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PARTISAN REVIEW
the window as she walked down the street in her enticing red dress,
exaggeratedly swaying her hips for his benefit and turning every few
steps to smile and wave. They were going to see each other very soon.
When she turned the corner, he closed the window reluctantly and
went to pack, whistling softly under his breath. How neatly have all
things fallen into place, he thought. He had felt happy and untroubled
ever since that night when the vision of Ino's triumphant face had upset
him so much. Of course, today, bending over his suitcase in the sunlit
living room of the girl he was going to marry, he did not find the wind
seller in the least terrifying, rather mildly ridiculous and perhaps
pitiable, like some unsightly atavistic growth. Suddenly he recalled the
joke someone had made about Kadmos a week ago. Now that he won–
dered about it, the name did have a familiar ring, as of something duti–
fully learned and immediately forgotten in some dusty classroom of his
childhood . He glanced around Angeliki's shelves and in a moment saw
a bulky volume of co ll ected myths, hiding behind an ugly pink seashell
that he remembered buying for her at a cheap souvenir stall during their
first trip to Aegina.
Pulling the book down, he flipped through its lengthy index. Yes,
indeed, here was Kadmos, wedged between Jocasta, the unfortunate
mother of Oedipus, and Kakia, the unpleasantly named goddess of vice.
The story, he saw quickly, was no different from many other tales of
ancient heroes wading their uncertain paths in and out of the gods'
favor. A legendary founder of Thebes and a reputed inventor of the
a lphabet (of course, he knew that!), Kadmos had distinguished himself
so much that Zeus had given him Harmonia, Aphrodite'S divine daugh–
ter; but when shortly thereafter the king had neglected to perform some
sacrifice, the same Zeus, angered by his disrespect, had turned both him
and Harmonia into giant serpents. The gods surely were fickle, thought
Constantine with amusement and was just about to go back to folding
his shirts when a familiar name flitted past the corner of his eye.
"Among the children of Kadmos and Harmonia, the most famous were
Semele, the mother of"-no, no, that's not it, a line below, yes, here it
is-"and Ino."
The a bsurd coincidence made his heart feel suspended for a moment.
Then his eyes flew to the top of the next page. "Born a mortal, Ino, the
wife of Athamas, King of Thebes, angered Hera by raising Dionysus
...." Impatiently he skipped a few lines full of obscure dealings
between jealous divinities, until he came upon the last few sentences.
"Chased by her murderous husband along the cliffs, Ino in desperation
leapt into the sea to her death, but Zeus took mercy upon her sufferings
