On this day in 356 BC, the ancient world lost one of its seven wonders, a temple in Greece dedicated to the powerful and widely revered goddess of the Moon, Artemis. Today, the world is rising and shining as the Earth’s one natural satellite sets on the 50th anniversary of mankind first reaching that Moon. And just a few years from now, in 2024, a NASA astronaut will finally bring womankind into the celestial fold as she steps off the bottom rung of a ladder onto the dusty silver lunar surface as part of Project Artemis.
Artemis was the first of the twin offspring of Zeus and Titan-born goddess Leto. She was worshipped under many forms across the ancient Greek world, being associated with hunting, childbirth, fertility, the moon, and the overall power of nature in general. Her twin brother, the Sun god Apollo (whom she helped birth, her own entrance into the world being swift and painless, but her sibling’s causing her mother seven days and seven nights of suffering), may be Greece’s clear favorite today, but there is no doubt that ancient Greeks were willing and enthusiastic followers of the cult of Artemis. They feared her, and they loved her. They carved statues of her and put them on literal pedestales. They built whole gorgeous temples to her, and news of their import and beauty spread.
And then along came one violent man.
Herostratus was not content with his anonymity. He wanted to make a splash. Do something big. Go down in history.
Unable or unwilling to do so on his own merits, he decided to take something down in order to lift himself up.
So he slunk over to the Temple of Artemis one day and set fire to it. Burned the whole thing down. Destroyed the city of Ephesus’s beloved homage to the goddess, including the statue of Artemis herself. This man wanted to make a name for himself, and he felled the earthly marble body of this Olympian female ideal to secure himself his selfish wish.
The ancient Greeks were so outraged, they decided that beyond executing the arsonist, they would deny him his wish. They sentenced him to what would later be dubbed damnatio memoriae. His name could not be spoken or written by anyone, ever, under penalty of death. Herostratus would be denied the immortality and fame he so coveted.
Artemis and her destruction mattered more than the man who defiled her temple, and the ancient Greek authorities saw to protecting her and denying both cover and coverage to him.
There’s a lesson here for American judges, but that’s a diary for another day . . .
The point is: Artemis was defended.
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But Artemis was also forgotten. Apollo’s ascent continued while her own stalled. It was he, the Sun god, who soared to place of pride in the modern Greek mind. It was he, the Sun god, whose name emblazoned the patches of the men rocketing off our planet toward the heavens. It was he, the Sun god, whose missions touched down on the Moon. It was he, the Sun god, who went down in history.
What might Artemis think, seeing her brother’s name linked in glory and remembrance to her moon?
Perhaps something akin to what female NASA employees felt for more than a decade watching exclusively all-male crews launch skyward? Perhaps something like what the female members of mixed crews still feel being denied assignments on spacewalks? Perhaps something along the lines of what several generations of women and girls have felt seeing male astronauts get all the fun?
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NASA is now coming around on the topic of diversity in hiring. And not as a grudging capitulation to political correctness, thank goodness. No, the agency seems to have sincerely realized that good talent can come from anyone, anywhere, and to have embraced the spirit of inclusion.
This welcome shift was on full display in Washington D.C. this weekend, as a wonderfully diverse group of NASA representatives from departments all over the country greeted visitors to the festival commemorating the 50th anniversary of the Moon landing.
Not only that, the space agency recently announced their exciting new crewed (note: not “manned”) mission to bring humans back to the Moon, and they have made a bold promise: the next astronaut to return to the Moon, after a nearly 47-year-long absence, will be a woman.
The first woman on the Moon.
And the mission will be named Artemis.
Apollo’s twin, the firstborn goddess, will finally touch down on her Moon.
It will be a homecoming of sorts. A putting to rights. Artemis will reclaim her place. And she and whatever skilled brave woman flies with her to the heavens will show the world that the original He Who Must Not Be Named, the ancient Greek You Know Who, failed to keep her down. That women are a force to be reckoned with.
Yes, a woman will soon rise to the Moon. And when she does, she and Artemis will go down in history.