The Homeric Hymn (number 28) tells the story of Athena's birth. I begin to sing about Pallas Athena, renowned goddess, with bright eyes, quick mind, and inflexible heart, chaste and mighty virgin, protectress of the city, Tritogeneia. Wise Zeus himself gave birth to her from his holy head and she was arrayed in her armor of war, all-gleaming in gold, and every one of the immortals. was gripped with awe as they watched. She quickly sprang forth from the immortal head in front of aegis-bearing Zeus, brandishing her sharp spear. And great Olympus shook terribly at the might of the bright-eyed goddess and the earth round about gave a dread groan and the dark waves of the deep seethed. But suddenly the sea became calm, and the glorious son of Hyperion halted his swift-footed horses all the while that the maiden Pallas Athena took the divine armor from her immortal shoulders, and Zeus in his wisdom rejoiced. So hail to you, child of aegis-bearing Zeus; I shall remember both you and another song too. Hesiod (Theogony 886-98) tells how Zeus had swallowed his consort Metis (her name means wisdom) after he had made her pregnant with Athena; he was afraid that Metis would bear a son who would overthrow him. Zeus, king of the gods, first took as his wife Metis, who was very wise indeed among both gods and men. But when she was about to give birth to the bright-eyed goddess Athena, then Zeus treacherously deceived her with wheedling words and swallowed her down into his belly at the wise instigations of Gaea and starry Uranus.

These two gave Zeus this advice so that no other of the eternal gods might rule supreme as king in his place. For Metis was destined to bear exceptional children: first, the keeneyed maiden, Athena, Tritogeneia, the equal of her father in might and good counsel, and then she was to give birth to a son of indomitable spirit who would become the king of both gods and men. Variations in the story of Athena's birth have Hephaestus (or sometimes Prometheus or even Hermes) split Zeus' head open with an axe to facilitate the birth; some add to the dread awe of the occasion by having Athena cry out thunderously as she springs to life in full panoply. This myth (whatever its etiology may be in terms of the physical manifestations of the thunderstorm) establishes the close bond of affection between Zeus and his favorite daughter and allegorizes the three basic characteristics of the goddess Athena: her prowess, her wisdom, and the masculinity of her virgin nature, sprung ultimately not from the woman but from the male. The dramatic moment of the divine birth was immortalized by the genius of the sculptor Pheidias in the east pediment of the goddess' great temple, the Parthenon. (Parthenos, meaning virgin, was a standard epithet of Athena.) The theme of the west pediment was equally appropriate: the victory of Athena (by her token of the olive tree) over Poseidon for control of Athens and Attica (the details of which have been recounted in the previous chapter). The continuous Ionic frieze of the temple also bore testimony to the glory and prestige of the goddess. Frozen in stone, the people of Athens move as it were forever in stately procession as they celebrate the splendid festival of the Panathenaea in honor of their patron deity. Each summer, on the very day of Athena's birth (every four years the festivities were especially splendid), an embroidered robe (peplos) was brought in ceremonial state to the goddess. Men and women, young and old, on foot or on horseback, proceeded along the ordained route through the Agora up onto the Acropolis; with them were animals, implements of sacrifice, and all the paraphernalia of ritual. In the cella of the Parthenon itself stood a monumental statue of the goddess magnificently wrought in gold and ivory. Athena is often (but not always) represented in art with her attributes as a war goddess: helmet, spear, and shield (the aegis, on which the head of the Gorgon Medusa may be depicted). She is beautiful with a severe and aloof kind of loveliness that is striking. One of her standard epithets is glaukopis, which may mean gray- or green-eyed, but more probably refers to the bright or keen radiance of her glance rather than to the color of her eyes. Possibly, too, the adjective may be intended to mean owl-eyed, or of owlish aspect or countenance; certainly Athena is at times closely identified with the owl. The snake is also associated with Athena; one may, for example, appear coiled at her feet or on her shield. This association (along with those of the owl and the olive tree) suggests that perhaps Athena originally was (like so many others) a fertility goddess, despite the fact that her character as a virgin dominates the later tradition. Athena's title, Tritogeneia, is obscure, although conjectural explanations have not been wanting. It would seem to refer to a region sometimes associated with her birth, the river or lake Triton, or Tritonis, in Boeotia or in Libya. Some scholars see in this link the possibility that Athena was at least in her origins at one time a goddess of waters or the sea.

We are told that soon after her birth Athena was reared by Triton (presumably the god of this body of water, wherever it may be). Now Triton had a daughter named Pallas, and Athena and the girl used to practice the arts of war together. But on one occasion they quarreled, and as Pallas was about to strike Athena, Zeus intervened on behalf of his daughter by interposing the aegis. Pallas was startled, and Athena, taking advantage of her surprise, wounded and killed her. Athena was distraught when she realized what she had done; in her grief she made a wooden image of the girl and decked it with the aegis. This statue, the Palladium, was cast down by Zeus and fell into the territory of the Trojans, who built a temple to house it in honor. This Palladium appears in saga as carrying with it the destiny of the city of Troy. Athena, too, in honor of her friend took the name Pallas for herself. A more likely etiology is that the word Pallas means maiden and is but another designation of Athena's chastity, just as she is called parthenos, virgin, or (like Persephone) Kore, girl. Athena is a goddess of many specific arts, crafts, and skills (military, political, and domestic), as well as the deification of wisdom and good counsel in a more generic and abstract conception. She is, for example, skilled in the taming and training of horses, interested in ships and chariots, and the inventor of the flute. This latter invention was supposed to have been inspired by the lamentations (accompanied by the hiss of serpents) uttered by the surviving Gorgons after the death of Medusa. But Athena quickly grew to dislike the new instrument because her beautiful features became distorted when she played and so she threw it away in disgust. Marsyas, the satyr, picked up the instrument with dire consequences, as we shall see. Athena was worshiped along with Hephaestus in Athens as patroness of all arts and crafts. The famous story of Arachne bears testimony to the importance of Athena as the patroness of women's household arts, especially spinning and weaving. In Ovid's account (Metamorphoses 6.5-145) Athena has, of course, become the Roman Minerva.

Minerva turned her mind to Arachne's destruction, for she had heard that her fame as a worker in wool equaled her own. Arachne's birth and position brought her no distinction- it was her skill that did. Idmon of Colophon was her father, who dyed the thirsty wool with Ionian purple; her mother, who also was of low birth like her husband, had died. Yet their daughter, Arachne, for all that she was born in a lowly family living at lowly Hypaepa, pursued her quest for fame throughout the cities of Lydia by her work. The nymphs of Tmolus often left their vineyards, the nymphs of Pactolus often left their waters-to see and wonder at Arachne's handiwork. Nor was their pleasure merely in seeing her finished work, but also in observing her at work, such delight was in her skill. Whether at the beginning she gathered the unworked wool into balls, or worked it with her fingers and drew out lengths of fleece like clouds, or with swift-moving thumb turned the smooth spindle, or whether she used her embroidering needleyou would know that Minerva had taught her. Yet she would not admit this; jealous of her great teacher she said, "Let her compete with me; if she wins I deny her nothing." Minerva disguised herself as an old woman, whitehaired and supporting herself upon a stick, and spoke as follows: "Not everything that old age brings is to be avoided; experience comes with the passing years.

Do not despise my advice! Let your ambition be to excel mortal women at weaving; give place to the goddess and pray for her forgiveness for your rash words! She will pardon you if you pray." Arachne glowered at her; leaving her half-finished work and with difficulty restraining herself from blows, she openly showed her anger by her expression, as she attacked disguised Minerva with these words: "You old fool, enfeebled by advanced old age. Too long a life has done you no good! Keep your advice for your sons' wives (if you have any) and your daughter. I can think for myself, and you need not think your advice does any good-you will not change my mind. Why does not the goddess herself come? Why does she refuse to compete with me?" Then Minerva cried: "She has come!" and throwing off her diguise she showed herself as she was, the goddess Minerva. The nymphs and women of Lydia worshiped her divine presence; Arachne alone felt no awe. Yet she blushed; a sudden flush stole over her face in spite of herself and as suddenly faded, like the red glow of the sky when Dawn first glows just before the heavens begin to whiten with the sun's rising. Obstinately she held to her course and rushed to destruction in her foolish desire for the prize. Jupiter's daughter resisted no more; she offered her no more advice; no more did she put off the competition. Ovid goes on to describe the weaving contest. Each weaves a tapestry at her loom with surpassing skill, depicting scenes from mythology. Minerva displays her contest with Neptune for the lordship of Attica and adds four subordinate scenes of mortals who challenged gods and were turned by them into other shapes. The whole was framed by an olive-tree motif-"with her own tree she concluded her work." Unwamed by the lessons of Minerva's legends, Arachne depicted scenes of the gods' less honorable amorous conquestswhere Jupiter, Neptune, Apollo, Bacchus, and Saturn deceived goddesses and mortal women. As she completed her tapestry with a design of trailing ivy, Minerva's anger burst forth. Ovid continues: Minerva could find no fault with the work, not even Envy herself could. Angered by Arachne's success, the golden-haired goddess tore up the embroidered tapestry with its stories of the gods' shameful deeds. With the boxwood shuttle she beat Arachne's face repeatedly.

In grief Arachne strangled herself, stopping the passage of life with a noose. Minerva pitied her as she was hanging and raised her up with these words: "Stubborn girl, live, yet hang! And-to make you anxious for the future-may the same punishment be decreed for all your descendants." With these words Minerva sprinkled her with the juice of a magic herb. As the fateful liquid touched her, Arachne's hair dropped off; her nose and ears vanished, and her head was shrunken; her whole body was contracted. From her side thin fingers dangled for legs, and the rest became her belly. Yet still from this she lets the thread issue forth and, a spider now, practices her former weaving art. This story also illustrates the moral earnestness of this warrior maiden that is often only too apparent. Her character is usually impeccable; unlike another virgin goddess, Artemis, to whom men made advances, although at their dire peril, Athena remained virtually unapproachable sexually. The attempt of Hephaestus on her honor (in the early saga of Athens in which Athena inevitably must play an important role) confirms the purity and integrity of her convictions. It would be a misconception, however, to imagine Athena only as a cold and formidable virago who might easily elicit one's respect but hardly one's love. This Valkyrie-like maiden does have her touching moments, not only in her close and warm relationship with her father, Zeus, but also in her devout loyalty and steadfast protection of more than one hero (e.g., Telemachus and Odysseus, Heracles, Perseus, and Bellerophon). Either alone or coupled with Apollo, Athena can be made the representative of a new order of divinity-the younger generation of the gods championing progress and the advanced enlightenment of civilization. It is Athena as the agent of Zeus who brings the Odyssey to a close by answering the primitive demand for blood evoked by the relatives of the suitors and establishing the divine and universal validity of the justice meted out by Odysseus. In Aeschylus' Oresteia she is on the side of Apollo for the acquittal of Orestes through the due process of law in Athens before the court of the Areopagus (which the goddess is said to have created), appeasing and silencing, presumably forever, the old social order of family vendetta represented by the Furies.