Feminism in Greek Literature from Homer to Aristotle

Aristotle · en
The fables of Æsop are now a nursery classic, for, like the _Arabian
Nights_ and _Gulliver’s Travels_, they have been turned by the kindly
irony of time to a use which their authors hardly contemplated. But in
their Milesian shape there was always an underlying vein of satire, even
in the animal stories. The male animals, the eagle and the lion, are
brave and generous; the females, the fox and the weasel, are cunning and
treacherous.

Moreover, as we see in the Greek version of Babrius and the Latin
of Phædrus, separated though they be from the original by a gap of
centuries, there was a great deal of matter in the Æsopian stories which
was plainly misogynistic.

As examples, we may take from Babrius, Fable 10:

    A man fell in love with an ugly, dirty slave-girl, his own
    property, and readily gave her all she asked. She had her fill
    of gold: fine purple robes trailing at her ankles, and soon
    she began to rival the mistress of the house. ‘The goddess of
    love,’ thought she, ‘is the cause of all this’ and she honoured
    her with votive tapers, going every day to sacrifice and prayer
    with supplications and requests. But at last the goddess
    came in a dream while they were asleep, and appearing to the
    slave-girl, she said, ‘Do not thank me, or suppose that I have
    made you beautiful: I am angry with that fellow there, and so
    he thinks you fair.’

Belief in women’s beauty, we see, is mere infatuation, and so is belief
in their truth, as No. 16 shows:

    A country nurse once threatened a whining child: ‘Stop, or I
    will throw you to the wolf.’ The wolf heard the words, and
    supposing that the old dame was speaking the truth, waited
    patiently for the meal which he thought would soon be ready.
    It was not till evening that the child fell asleep, and the
    wolf, who had been waiting on slow hope, went off home very
    hungry, his mouth really agape. ‘How is it you have come home
    empty-handed?’ said his wife, who had been keeping house. ‘It’s
    very unusual.’ But the wolf replied: ‘What would you have? I
    have trusted a woman.’

No. 32 is a curious reminiscence of Simonides:

    Once upon a time a cat fell in love with a comely man, and
    glorious Cypris, the mother of Desire, allowed her to change
    her shape and take a woman’s body, one so fair that all men
    desired her. The young man saw her, fell captive in his turn
    and arranged to wed. The marriage feast was just prepared when
    a mouse ran by, and the bride, jumping down from the high
    couch, rushed after it. So the banquet came to an end, and
    Love, who had had a merry jest, departed too—for even he could
    not fight against nature.

No. 22 is more outspoken: