The Wanderer King

“What you fear is what you find.” I’ve experienced this, and it is a theme in myths such as Oedipus Rex of Ancient Greece…

Long ago, in a faraway land, King Laetes and Queen Jocasta prayed for a baby. After years of hope and grief, a son was born. “I name you Oedipus,” Jocasta whispered, nuzzling his rosy cheek and marveling at his bright eyes and soft curls. Like new mothers do, the young queen suddenly knew she only cared for one thing—her son’s happiness—and she would die to protect it. 

On Oedipus’s first birthday, the wise women who spun the threads of Fate came in the night and whispered a dreadful secret: "This boy shall grow to slay his father, and wed his mother." 

King Laetes was stricken with terror. He dared not keep his perfect son, yet he could not bear to kill the boy in cold blood. Through tears he brought Oedipus to a faraway mountain and gave him to a servant, bidding him to leave the child for the wolves and crows. The guilt ate away at the King until he could no longer eat or drink. 

The servant carried baby Oedipus out beneath the cold stars and left him shivering and wailing for his mother. 

But fate is cunning and will not be cheated.

A kindly shepherd found the crying babe, tended his wounds where crows and wolves had bit him, and carried him to the faraway land of Thebes. There, a king and queen raised him as their own, passing a law forbidding discussion of the prophecy, on pain of death. 

Under the shepherd’s care, Oedipus grew tall, clever, and proud. Despite the law, whispers of his dark fortune found him. So Oedipus set out upon the road to escape such horrors. 

On a narrow path he met a tall old king, who despite his dignified air, became enraged when the youth did not step aside for him to pass. The youth’s anger flared as well, and with one blow, he cut down the king where he stood.

As King Laetes fell, he cursed the gods and the wise Fates who had tried to warn him. He cursed Queen Jocasta for birthing such a boy. Finally he cursed himself for ignoring the poor Fates who had just tried to help, and begged the gods for a swift death. His wish was granted. 

Thus was the first part of the prophecy fulfilled—though the youth did not know it.

Oedipus traveled on until he came to a city in mourning, tormented by a monster. The beast was a Sphinx, with the wings of a bat and the face of a cruel young maiden. She asked all who passed a riddle. Those who failed she tore apart with her claws. But the youth was clever; he answered rightly, and the Sphinx shrieked and threw herself from the cliffs, breaking her bones on the jagged rocks. 

The people rejoiced. They crowned Oedipus their new king, and they gave him the hand of their widowed queen in marriage. It was a quiet wedding, the citizens' joy dampened by the damage the Sphinx had wrought.

And so, the second part of the prophecy was fulfilled. 

For a time, Thebes prospered. But then, sickness came. Crops withered, babies wasted and died in their parents’ arms, and the people wailed that the gods were angry. Oedipus, desperate to protect his people, hunted for the cause. He questioned every man, woman, and child, and at last, the old shepherd was brought forth. Trembling, he told the tale of the baby on the mountainside, whom he had spared from a cruel death. 

Oedipus turned pale, his skin suddenly cold and clammy—he knew instantly that he was the child doomed from birth. He had slain his own father, and his queen—his bride that he loved more than life—was his mother. As her eyes met his in horror, she ran to the nearest cliff and threw herself into the ocean. 

Wild with grief, Oedipus blinded himself with pins of gold, crying that he would never again look upon the cursed light, the light that his parents would never see again, the deceiving light that had shone from his bride’s eyes moments before his dreams rotted and crumbled before him. Even the solace of death was denied to him. He would live out his days as King to the people who needed his protection, forever haunted by the ghosts of his past. 

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We cannot help what we fear...but can we work to avoid it, or does trying only bring it closer to home?