The Story of King Midas

Let's follow our favorite Roman poet Ovid through the story of good ol' King M. It all
starts as Dionysus is on his way to Timolus.

Dionysus is fleeing after he punished the women who murdered Orpheus, rock star
to the Greeks. (NB: Don't murder a god's favorite singerthey don't like it.)

Behind Dionysus comes a long line of followers, singing and partying as they go.
Among the followers is Dionysus's teacher, Silenus.

Silenus is a satyr: a short, chubby dude with goat legs and horns.

While traveling, Silenus gets super drunk and loses his way. (This sort of thing tends
to happen when you're drunk, so we don't recommend it.) Silenus wanders around
aimless and unsure what to do about it, until he bumps into a group of peasants.

The peasants take pity on the drunken satyr and help direct him to the palace.

(Other versions of the story suggest that Silenus actually found the palace on his
own, where he passed out in the rose garden. Still other versions say that Midas
lured Silenus to the palace and tricked him into drinking from a fountain full of wine.
Yeah, ancient Greeks often had trouble making up their mind.)

Back to the story: the peasants carry the drunken Silenus to the palace and hand him
over to King Midas. As it turns out, King Midas is a follower of the rituals of Dionysus,
which basically involve drinking lots of wine.

Midas recognizes Silenus as a member of Dionysus's group and immediately

declares a feast in honor of the satyr. The party lasts ten days, which is exhausting to
even think about.

After the party finally ends, Midas helps Silenus catch up with Dionysus.

Dionysus is so pleased to have his old teacher back that he offers to grant Midas one
wish. (Can we get us one of those?)

Midas thinks it over for a minute and then wishes that everything he touches from
now on will turn to gold.

Done and done.

Midas and Dionysus part ways, and the wine god continues his journey toward
Timolus.

Midas, meanwhile, goes around touching everything he can get his hands on.
Sounds kind of rash, but to be fair, if somebody told us that we could turn things into
gold, we'd probably go around touching a bunch of stuff, too.

And get this: it works. Midas grabs a tree branch, and sure enough, it turns into a
golden stick. He grabs a handful of dirt, and it turns into a fat, gold nugget.

Feeling awesome about his life (duh), Midas returns home.

And that's where things start to go wrong.

Imagine this: Midas gets home. He's had a long journey and he's tired. He hands his
travel cloak to a servant, brushes off his pants, and heads for the dining room. A man
needs food after a long trip, right? He orders the cooks to fry up some chicken and
bake some fresh bread.

Then he pulls up a chair and plops himself down at the table. The food comes. It
smells delicious. He grabs a slice of bread and takes a huge bite. Bam! The bread
turns to gold. Angry, Midas throws the bread away and grabs some chicken instead.
Bam! Gold.

He tries to gnaw at the food without using his hands, but when his teeth touch the
meat it turns to gold. He tries to drink some wine, but as he swallows it turns to liquid
gold in his throat.

Yeah, this isn't good.

At some pointbasically when he gets so hungry he can't stand itMidas realizes

what a terrible wish he's made. (Other versions of the story say that Midas doesn't
give up until he accidentally turns his daughter into a golden statue. Oops.)

Midas cries out to Dionysus, begging the god to take back his power. Dionysus hears
Midas and agrees to save him from the golden curse.

He instructs Midas to travel into the hills, to the source of the river Pactolus. Midas
obeys.

When he reaches the place where the river begins, Dionysus tells him to take a bath.
And sure enough, as Midas bathes, the power of the golden touch flows out of him
and into the water.

The water becomes speckled with tiny flakes of gold.

Midas leaves the river, free of his curse and feeling like a new man. In fact, he hates
the whole idea of money now.

Just one problem: he's a king, and kings always have money. So to escape the
burden of wealth, Midas decides to take a break from being king.

Instead he wanders the forest, worshiping the wilderness god, Pan.

But that's another story...

The Myth
BACCHUS, on a certain occasion, found his old schoolmaster and foster-father, Silenus,
missing. The old man had been drinking, and in that state wandered away, and was found by
some peasants, who carried him to their king, Midas. Midas recognized him, and treated him
hospitably, entertaining him for ten days and nights with an unceasing round of jollity. On the
eleventh day he brought Silenus back, and restored him in safety to his pupil. Whereupon
Bacchus offered Midas his choice of a reward, whatever he might wish. He asked that
whatever he might touch should be changed into gold. Bacchus consented, though sorry that
he had not made a better choice. Midas went his way, rejoicing in his new-acquired power,
which he hastened to put to the test. He could scarce believe his eyes when he found a twig
of an oak, which he plucked from the branch, become gold in his hand. He took up a stone; it
changed to gold. He touched a sod; it did the same. He took up an apple from the tree; you
would have thought he had robbed the garden of the Hesperides. His joy knew no bounds,
and as soon as he got home, he ordered the servants to set a splendid repast on the table.
Then he found to his dismay that whether he touched bread, it hardened in his hand; or put a
morsel to his lip, it defied his teeth. He took a glass of wine, but it flowed down his throat like
melted gold.
In consternation at the unprecedented affliction, he strove to divest himself of his power; he
hated the gift he had lately coveted. But all in vain; starvation seemed to await him. He raised
his arms, all shining with gold, in prayer to Bacchus, begging to be delivered from his
glittering destruction. Bacchus, merciful deity, herd and consented. "Go," said he, "to River
Pactolus, trace its fountain-head, there plunge yourself and body in, and wash away your
fault and its punishment." He did so, and scarce had he touched the waters before the goldcreating power passed into them, and the river sands became changed into gold, as they
remain to this day.
Thenceforth Midas, hating wealth and splendour, dwelt in the country, and became a
worshipper of Pan, the god of the fields. On a certain occasion Pan had the temerity to
compare his music with that of Apollo, and to challenge the god of the lyre to a trial of skill.

The challenge was accepted, and Tmolus, the mountain god, was chosen umpire. The senior
took his seat, and cleared away the trees from his ears to listen. At a given signal Pan blew
on his pipes, and with his rustic melody gave great satisfaction to himself and his faithful
follower Midas, who happened to be present. Then Tmolus turned his head toward the Sungod, and all his trees turned with him. Apollo rose, his brow wreathed with Parnassian laurel,
while his robe of Tyrian purple swept the ground. In his left hand he held the lyre, and with
his right hand struck the strings. Ravished with the harmony, Tmolus at once awarded the
victory to the god of the lyre, and all but Midas acquiesced in the judgment. He dissented,
and questioned the justice of the award. Apollo would not suffer such a depraved pair of ears
any longer to wear the human form, but caused them to increase in length, grow hairy, within
and without, and movable on their roots; in short, to be on the perfect pattern of those of an
ass.
Mortified enough was King Midas at this mishap: but he consoled himself with the thought
that it was possible to hide his misfortune, which he attempted to do by means of an ample
turban or head-dress. But his hair-dresser of course knew the secret. He was charged not to
mention it, and threatened with dire punishment if he presumed to disobey. But he found it
too much for his discretion to keep such a secret; so he went out into the meadow, dug a
hole in the ground, and stooping down, whispered the story, and covered it up. Before long a
thick bed of reeds sprang up in the meadow, and as soon as it had gained its growth, began
whispering the story, and has continued to do so, from that day to this, every time a breeze
passes over the place.

THEME OF WEALTH AND GREED IN

KING MIDAS
Bet you didn't see this one coming.
"Uh, gee Mr. Dionysus. I guess if I could pick anything, well I wish I could TURN STUFF
INTO GOLD."
D'oh.
Humor aside, greed is the real deal in the story of King Midas. And the million dollar question
stands: is greed good or bad? Both? Or Neither?

Midas is a generally nice guy. He takes Silenus in. He throws Silenus a party. He helps
Silenus get back on the road. So it seems only right that he be rewarded for his good deeds,
right? But he goes and screws it up.
In Ovid's version of the story, it's not super clear why Midas wishes for gold. Ovid just says
that Midas "was never very judicious," meaning he lacks common sense. Other versions of
the story straight up say that he's greedy and loves gold more than anything. Either way, the
guy makes a terrible wish and ends up begging to be saved. And sure enough, all he has to
do to get rid of his punishment is take a bath.
Man, if we could get out of any punishment just by taking a bath not too shabby.
So greed gets Midas in a good bit of trouble, but then he manages his way out pretty easily,
too. What are we supposed to make of that?