One of the problems with being extraordinarily beautiful is that the constant admiration of others can go to your head. Narcissus, you see, was beautiful, make no mistake about it, but his beauty, as they say, was only skin deep.
Of course, he had only the opinions of his many admirers regarding his utter and complete wonderfulness because he wasn’t allowed to look at his own reflection. A prophet at his birth had said Narcissus would live forever if he never saw his own face. And who wouldn’t want a gorgeous guy like Narcissus to live forever?
That’s a rhetorical question, by the way. It turns out that quite a few people wouldn’t. See, Narcissus was very, very pretty, but he was also very, very full of himself. I mean, who wouldn’t be, with everyone always falling over him? Narcissus had learned early on to treat people as if their sole purpose in life was to tell him how perfect he was. You might go so far as to say he used them as mirrors, and only saw his own beautiful self instead of really seeing them.
Take Ameinias, for instance. Ameinias was a really nice guy—good-looking, smart, and athletic. A real dreamboat. And he had a huge crush on Narcissus. He followed him around, always trying to get his attention. He never seemed to mind when Narcissus treated him like dirt. Narcissus would go out with him, and then not call for days. The two never did anything Ameinias wanted to do, and they never played any of Ameinias’ favorite sports because Narcissus always had to be the best.
One day, though, Ameinias finally got a bellyful of this treatment, and he told Narcissus to cut it out. Narcissus was shocked! He couldn’t understand why Ameinias wasn’t happy being with him. Deep in his heart, Narcissus felt Ameinias was being selfish, but on the outside, his blue eyes welled up with tears. “Ameinias,” he said, “I’m hurt. How could you think so ill of me?”
Ameinias felt guilty. “No, it’s not that,” he replied. “It’s just . . . “
“Just what?” said Narcissus.” If that’s how you feel, I think we’re better off apart!”
“No!” cried Ameinias.
Narcissus’ eyes slitted in anger as he thought, “How dare he do this to me!”
“Yes,” he said out loud, his voice hard and bitter. “I think so.”
Ameinias was stricken. “I’d rather die than be without you,” he said.
Narcissus smiled. He had been thinking for some time that Ameinias just really wasn’t in his league. “Yes,” he said, “I can see how you would prefer that.” And he handed Ameinias his sword.
Hurt and confused, and feeling as if he had done something unforgivable, Ameinias ran himself through with Narcissus’ sword and died at the beautiful man’s feet. Narcissus stepped over him and kept walking.
And then there was Echo. Echo was a sweet girl. Conventionally pretty, she had one minor flaw: she talked too much. Jabber, jabber, jabber, all day long. Finally, Hera couldn’t stand it anymore, and she cursed Echo so that she could only repeat what other people said. As you might imagine, that pretty much shut her up because no one would ever talk around her for very long.
Echo had secretly been in love with Narcissus for a long time, but for obvious reasons could never tell him how she felt.
Then one day, as she was walking in the forest, she came across Narcissus, who was hunting. She hid behind a tree to watch him, but a branch on the ground made a loud crack as she stepped on it. Echo pressed herself against the tree and didn’t move.
“Who’s here?” Narcissus said. Echo put her hand over her mouth so no sound would come out.
“Who’s here?” he repeated, louder. It was no use. “Here,” Echo answered.
“Are you behind the tree?” “Behind the tree,” came the response.
Narcissus went to her, and his lip curled in scorn. “Oh, it’s you,” he sneered.
“It’s you,” she sighed.
She blushed with embarrassment as Narcissus smirked at her. “Well,” he asked, “what do you want?”
“You . . . want . . .” she replied, hearing the longing in her own voice.
“Do you?” he laughed. “You,” she whispered.
“You’ve got to be kidding. You think I could love you?”
“Love . . . you . . .” she whimpered.
“Too bad for you, then. That’ll never happen!” With that, he turned on his heel and strode off.
“Never . . . happen . . .” she cried, tears streaming down her face. How could he be so cruel? From that day on, Echo hid in the caves and was never seen again.
As it would happen, though, Nemesis was also in the forest and had seen everything. She had heard about what happened to poor Ameinias, too. Nemesis, as you know, has never been impressed by a beautiful face, and Narcissus was about to get his. Nemesis laid a curse on Narcissus so that he would only ever be able to fall in love with his own face. It was an easy enough curse because Narcissus had already done most of the work himself.
So it was that one day the beautiful Narcissus was sitting near a pond and noticed his own reflection on the glassy surface. Entranced, he sat by the lake, gazing at his own face. There, at last, was someone truly worthy of him! He couldn’t bear to part with his beloved reflection, so he sat there, enthralled, until he withered away, still in love with himself—the only person he had ever really cared about.
