The Story of Icarus
The story of Icarus is one that permeates modern culture. From Hamilton to Percy Jackson, most people are familiar with the Greek myth that became the modern metaphor – boy gets wings, flies too close to sun, wax holding wings together melts, boy falls into ocean, boy dies. And of course, Daedalus’ heart is broken. But I think there’s more to the story of Icarus than what we know.
I first heard about the tale through someone, somewhere, mentioning it sometime. Then, my parents bought me the aforementioned Percy Jackson series, introducing me and the rest of my generation to Greek mythology. Then, I eventually grew up and researched it on my own, because I like history and I’m a masochist, and those two are invariably connected. And over time, given the popularity of the expression and me relating to it increasingly more, I became intricately familiar with the story of Icarus.
To substantiate on the story, it starts with Daedalus, brilliant inventor, and his son, Icarus, imprisoned by King Minos because he built a cow fursuit for Minos’ wife, on a tower that conveniently had sky access. Anyway, eventually they break free with bronze wings held together by wax that Daedalus constructed, being a brilliant inventor and all. Daedalus warns Icarus that if he flies too high, the heat of the sun will melt the wax, the feathers will come off, and Icarus can’t swim. If he flies to low, the sea foam will wet the feathers, they will grow heavy, and Icarus still can’t swim. Anyway, Icarus loves the feeling of flight, flies closer and closer to the sun, thinks himself greater than Helios the sun god, who may or may not have countered by melting said wax. Either way, the wax melts, Icarus falls and drowns, Daedalus buries him and flies on to Sicily alone. And that’s where the story ends.
So, what makes this story from ancient Greece of all places so relatable that I got the sudden jolt of motivation to write this? I think it’s a great metaphor for life. You push yourself too hard, fly too close to the sun, and you’ll love the feeling of overperforming and overachieving. But that doesn’t last forever, or at least I couldn’t keep it up forever, and eventually you pull an Icarus and drown. You relax too much, fly too close to the water, and the sea foam will be nice and cooling, and you’ll feel physically relaxed, and you won’t have to deal with stress or expectations or any of many burdens. But that doesn’t last forever either, and suddenly you have to put in more and more effort to stay airborne, and eventually you can’t anymore, and you pull an Icarus and drown. And it’s tragic because the only way to survive is to tread a narrow gradient of constant mediocrity, and I don’t want to be mediocre. So what’s the core of this story? At the end, through all the brilliant sunbeams and sea-stained breezes, what does the story of Icarus mean?
Whenever I think of the story of Icarus, I think of the same question. How did Icarus feel in those fleeting moments? Those moments where he had yet to feel the consequences of his actions? Where he felt greater than a god? How much would you sacrifice to have that feeling? Unparalleled power has always drawn me in, and suddenly Icarus’ decision, to ignore Daedalus’ advice, to throw it all away for those few fleeting moments? He knew the consequences, even if he cared little for them. Was it a conscious choice, or was it an error in judgment caused by the presentness of the moment? Why couldn’t it be both? I think Icarus, caught up in the moment, caught up in the present, not thinking past the next few seconds, flew too close to the sun of his own free will. Did he want it? Did he want to live a few seconds as a god, or to live a lifetime as a mortal? Which would you choose? Which should you choose? Which do you choose?
Ultimately, the story of Icarus is one of many Greek myths – fantastical, tragic, and morally grey. Icarus made his choice, and subsequently met his consequences. But what about us? Do we fly too close to the sun and melt the wax between our wings? Do we stray closer to the sea and soak the feathers upon which we fly? Or do we silently swelter through the intermediary of mediocrity? Regardless, it’s a story that means a lot to me, and I hope that whenever you think about the story of Icarus, you think about more than the modern metaphor we know.