_The Louvre, Paris_]
We have now learned by repeated instances that the Greeks had such
definite ideas of their deities that their statues were as readily
recognized as if they represented actual persons. The sculptors followed
types accepted by tradition as the best embodiment of the characters
they stood for. So especially with Zeus, Athena, and Hera, and so again
with Aphrodite. She must be supremely fair, with a beauty less austere
than that of the maiden Athena, less regal than that of Hera, and more
fascinating than either.
We see then at once that the beautiful figure of our illustration must
be Aphrodite, or Venus. In looking at her we think, not of wisdom, or
force, or power, but just of beauty. She stands resting the weight of
her body on one foot, and advancing the other with knee bent. The
posture causes the figure to sway slightly to one side, describing a
fine curved line. The lower limbs are draped, but the upper part of the
body is uncovered, and in some mysterious way the sculptor has imparted
to the marble a seeming softness as of real flesh. The head is as
exquisitely set as a flower on its stalk. The parted hair is drawn back
in rippling waves over the low forehead.
The eyes are not very wide open, having something of a dreamy languor.
"Melting eyes" are indeed characteristic of Venus, and an analytical
critic has explained that this effect is produced in sculpture by a
"slight elevation of the inner corner of the lower eyelid." The nose is
perfectly cut, the mouth and chin are moulded in adorable curves. Yet to
say that every feature is of faultless perfection is but cold praise. No
analysis can convey the sense of her peerless beauty.
The statue originally stood on the Greek island of Melos, where it was
discovered in 1820 in this broken state. Many wise heads have been
puzzled to know the position of the missing arms. Some have thought that
the goddess carried a shield, and others have fancied her holding the
traditional apple. There have also been many discussions as to the date
of the work. Now if the statue had been made in the fifth century B. C.,
the goddess would have been fully draped; if in the fourth century,
entirely without drapery. Our sculptor then belonged to neither of these
periods, and combined the characteristics of both. It is a fault on his
part to have placed the drapery in an impossible position, whence in
actual life it would immediately fall of its own weight. Yet we do not
think of such criticisms when we see it. The beautiful body rising above
the drapery reminds us of the myth of Aphrodite emerging from the sea
foam. Her beauty is a union of strength and sweetness, a perfect
embodiment of a nature at harmony with itself and its surroundings.