Mighty Jupiter, God of Gods, king of sky and storm, was set to be married. Like everything Jupiter desired, his wedding would be a grand affair. And as you might imagine, dear reader, the guest list was staggering.
Not only did Jupiter invite his family and friends, along with gods and goddesses, mortals and monsters, but he’d also summoned most of the cosmos. The sun and moon would be present (for it was an all-day, all-night celebration), and even those who preferred sea or tree to earthbound living would be in attendance.
The royal guest list included the birds and also the bees. Merfolk watched from the shores while herds of mountain goats and wild horses packed the luxurious stables at Mt. Olympus. In the garden, snakes and lizards conversed with mice (even predators knew better than to anger a god on his wedding day), and one by one, people and creatures arrived at the golden gates and took their seats as Jupiter said his vows.
However, amidst the hustle and bustle of his wedding day, Jupiter learned that one of his good friends was missing: the tortoise. All other reptiles had arrived, but not a single tortoise was in sight. Jupiter wondered why the tortoise, out of all the animals, wasn’t there to congratulate him or compliment his beautiful bride. Why didn’t he deliver a toast, offer blessings for the newlywed’s future, or have the grace to send a gift in place of his absence?
The audacity.
When Jupiter realized the tortoise had snubbed him, he went to the creature for answers. Surely, he had a good reason for not showing.
But when Jupiter asked the tortoise if he’d received an invitation to his magnificent royal wedding, the tortoise responded, “Yes, of course.”
Jupiter asked if the tortoise knew the way to Mt. Olympus, for it was no short trip. The tortoise responded, “Yes, of course.”
He asked if the creature understood that all the other animals in the world attended the wedding. The tortoise responded, “Yes, of course.”
Exasperated, Jupiter threw up his hands and demanded the tortoise explain his absence. Did he have something better to do? What could be more important than a wedding, where mortals, gods, and creatures from all walks of life danced and sang, ate and drank, partied and reveled, until finally falling down into a blissful, exhausted heap?
The tortoise shrugged. “That sort of thing does not appeal to me,” he said. “I meant no harm by my absence. Spending time in crowds is of no interest to a tortoise, and I prefer to stay home.”
Up until this point, Jupiter had remained calm, but he could not relate to the introverted tortoise. Upon hearing his last response, Jupiter flew into a rage. He grabbed hold of the wind and scattered it, screaming in all directions. He threw thunderbolts into the sky and hid the sun’s warmth beneath a heavy layer of clouds.
Jupiter decreed that if the tortoise loved home so much, then home is what he would have. As punishment for dismissing the wedding as if it were just another day, Jupiter cast a spell on the tortoise.
With a flick of Jupiter’s wrist, the tortoise became bound to his house, forced to carry it upon his back until the end of time.
Jupiter meant his spell to be a curse, but on closer inspection, it was actually a blessing. To this day, the tortoise has never complained about the post-wedding curse, because if you ask him, there truly is no place like home.
.
This retelling was inspired by the myth of Jupiter and the Tortoise by Aesop’s Fables.
