For everything they are, myths are mirrors—showing us something of our reflection when we study them, offering insights and often doubling as cautionary tales. Their ability to tell transcendent truths about human nature is what allows them to endure outside the context of the time in which they were written.
In a digital age, few Greek myths are as enduring and increasingly relevant as that of Narcissus and Echo. It follows Narcissus, a beautiful hunter who falls in love with his reflection and dies because he cannot stop staring at himself, and Echo, a nymph cursed by the gods to only be able to repeat the last words of others (instead of saying what she desires). It’s a story so iconic that it’s inspired personality disorders: the now-popular narcissism (extreme self-love or self-importance) and the lesser-known echoism (an extreme form of co-dependency).
Ovid tells the myth in Metamorphoses, which we now turn to.
(A) Narcissus and Echo: The Myth
When Narcissus is born, his mother is told by a prophet that he will live a long life if “he never recognizes himself.” Growing into an impressive youth, Narcissus becomes a hunter and his beauty is unmatched. Many a damsel courts him but none impress him.
One day, Echo—a nymph cursed by the gods, now incapable of doing anything but repeating the last words spoken to her—spots Narcissus walking through the woods and starts following this creature she’s quickly fallen for. She stalks him until he, being separated from his hunting companions, calls out:
‘Is there any one here?’ and Echo answers ‘Here!’ He is amazed; and when he has cast his eyes on every side, he cries out with a loud voice, ‘Come!’ Whereon she calls the youth who calls. He looks back; and again, as no one comes, he says, ‘Why dost thou avoid me?’ and just as many words as he spoke, he receives. He persists; and being deceived by the imitation of an alternate voice, he says, ‘Let us come together here;’ and Echo, that could never more willingly answer any sound whatever, replies, ‘Let us come together here!’ and she follows up her own words, and rushing from the woods, is going to throw her arms around the neck she has so longed for. He flies; and as he flies, he exclaims, ‘Remove thy hands from thus embracing me; I will die first, before thou shalt have the enjoyment of me.’ She answers nothing but ‘Have the enjoyment of me.’ Thus rejected, she lies hid in the woods, and hides her blushing face with green leaves, and from that time lives in lonely caves; but yet her love remains, and increases from the mortification of her refusal. Watchful cares waste away her miserable body; leanness shrivels her skin, and all the juices of her body fly off in air. Her voice and her bones alone are left.
Her voice still continues, but they say that her bones received the form of stones. Since then, she lies concealed in the woods, and is never seen on the mountains: but is heard in all of them. It is her voice alone which remains alive in her.1
With Narcissus’ rejection, Echo’s body withers and is absorbed into nature—only her repeating voice remains. The harsh rejections of Narcissus had claimed the spirit of yet another. Then one of the many rejected (unnamed by Ovid) lifts their hands toward heaven and sends up a prayer: “[L]et him not enjoy what he loves!”
Nemesis, the goddess of retribution, answers the plea. Taking her revenge on Narcissus for his sins of hubris, Nemesis sends Narcissus to a clear stream, where, seeing his reflection, he falls in love. Here’s how Ovid tells it:
Lying on the ground, he gazes on his eyes like two stars, and fingers worthy of Bacchus, and hair worthy of Apollo, and his youthful cheeks and ivory neck, and the comeliness of his mouth, and his blushing complexion mingled with the whiteness of snow; and everything he admires, for which he himself is worthy to be admired. In his ignorance, he covets himself; and he that approves, is himself the thing approved. While he pursues he is pursued, and at the same moment he inflames and burns. How often does he give vain kisses to the deceitful spring; how often does he thrust his arms, catching at the neck he sees, into the middle of the water, and yet he does not catch himself in them. He knows not what he sees, but what he sees, by it is he inflamed; and the same mistake that deceives his eyes, provokes them. Why, credulous youth, dost thou vainly catch at the flying image? What thou art seeking is nowhere; what thou art in love with, turn but away and thou shalt lose it; what thou seest, the same is but the shadow of a reflected form; it has nothing of its own. It comes and stays with thee; with thee it will depart, if thou canst but depart thence.2
With no regard for food, unable to peel his eyes away from himself for even a second, Narcissus starts talking to his reflection—slowly realizing something he was unaware of at first: he’s looking at himself and the love he is consumed by is one of self-love.
[W]hen I extend my arms to thee, thou willingly extendest thine; when I smile, thou smilest in return; often, too, have I observed thy tears, when I was weeping; my signs, too, thou returnest by thy nods, and, as I guess by the motion of thy beauteous mouth, thou returnest words that come not to my ears. In thee ’tis I, I now perceive; nor does my form deceive me. I burn with the love of myself, and both raise the flames and endure them.3
Staring into the water, Narcissus disturbed the water with his tears. Watching his form defaced by the ripples and starting to disappear, he cries out in a panic: “Whither dost thou fly? Stay, I beseech thee! and do not in thy cruelty abandon thy lover; let it be allowed me to behold that which I may not touch, and to give nourishment to my wretched frenzy.”4
Consumed by grief, Narcissus pines away at his “cruel” fate—tearing his toga from his body and beating his chest, slowly wasting “away by degrees with a hidden flame.” Each time the unhappy youth in his decay uttered an “Alas!” the phrase was repeated back to him by Echo. Slowly time takes its tool and Narcissus loses the glow of his youth.
Now fully wasted away, Narcissus takes one last look into the water: “‘Ah, youth, beloved in vain!’ and the spot returned just as many words; and after he had said, ‘Farewell!’ Echo, too, said, ‘Farewell!’”5 Laying his wearied head down on the green grass, Narcissus’ spirit passed into the Underworld. When others came to find his body and prepare for the funeral, his body was nowhere to be found; where he died, only a yellow flower with white leaves encompassing it in the middle remained.6
So ends the story of Echo and Narcissus.
(B) Narcissus and Echo: The Ego in a Digital Age
With the myth fresh in our memory, we are now prepared to visit three concepts: (1) narcissism; (2) echoism; and (3) balancing the two tendencies.
(1) Narcissism
Having its origins and personification in Narcissus, the term narcissism as we now understand it was popularized by Sigmund Freud as part of his 1914 paper titled On Narcissism: An Introduction. With the rise of social media, which has only served to amplify energies in us there from the beginning, narcissism also seems to be on the rise.
One study out of Swansea University suggested that the excessive use of social media (particularly the posting of selfies) is associated with a subsequent increase in narcissism by an average of 25 percent. The study also suggested that those who post on social media excessively displayed a 25 percent increase in narcissistic traits.
Of course, this raises a couple of questions: what exactly is narcissism and how do we identify it? Given it’s more of a character trait than a diagnosable disease, it’s not exactly easy to identify at first glance. Psychology Today offers these as some of the signs you’re dealing with a narcissist: a grandiose sense of self-importance; a belief that one is special and can only be understood by special people; a need for excessive admiration; preoccupation with fantasies of success, power, brilliance, beauty or ideal love; a sense of entitlement; exploitation of others; lack of empathy; envy of others or belief that one is the object of envy; arrogant behavior.
It’s an uncomfortable exercise, but anyone trying to be great at something staring honestly at this list will see at least a handful of these traits in themselves. Don’t worry, reader who is now worried they might be a narcissist, we’ll come back to this.
(2) Echoism
Set opposite Narcissus is Echo—the nymph who has no expression or self outside Narcissus—whose fate is as equally undesirable as Narcissus’. She is hollow and completely dependent on Narcissus for her external identity.
Echoism isn’t a formal personality disorder diagnosis but is often associated with co-dependency in relationships. People with echoist tendencies often find themselves in relationships with narcissists and suffer from a pattern of passivity. They tend to have trouble speaking up for themselves, typically out of fear of abandonment. And thus they are doomed to suffer the lonely existence of an invisible self—slowly suffocating on the bottled-up dreams and desires that are never released out into the world.
Anyone with people-pleasing tendencies has seen the spirit of Echo at work inside them.
(3) Sailing Between Scylla and Charybdis
With both Narcissus and Echo, the question is not whether they live in us; it’s a question of to what extent have they grown in us. Both potentials are in everyone. And both represent unappealing extremes on opposite sides of the same spectrum. One is doomed by a head that’s too big and another by a chest that’s too small. But both suffer the same fate: they wither away without ever really living.
It’s a cautionary tale for us in a world where technology makes it easier than ever to feed the energies of Narcissus and Echo inside us—sometimes simultaneously. Social media has not only given us the tools to become totally self-absorbed but it’s also opened up the world of completely outsourcing our identity to the outside world. It’s somehow managed to push our essence out to the extremes and, if we’re not careful, it leaves nothing of substance in our center. Though on opposite sides of the spectrum, both Narcissus and Echo have an empty existence.
The trick, of course, lies in sailing between Scylla and Charybdis—we must be secure in self without becoming consumed by self. We must try to have enough self-esteem to speak up but avoid having such an exaggerated self-love that we become totally self-absorbed and miss out on the reason for living at all: to spend in serving and in companionship with others.
How do we strike this balance? Well, if you find out, let me know. At various times in the last two years of starting my writing journey, I’ve watched myself exist too far in both directions. Just before I moved to Austin and started writing, I rarely posted on social media and never shared my stories. But like Echo, felt like I was suffocating on my own voice.
Over the last two years trying to build a personal and writing brand, I fear at times I may have swung too far in the direction of Narcissus. Occasionally, I’ll catch my ego getting in the way and catch myself too absorbed with self-promotion and self-interest, forgetting that the point of this whole thing (writing books and blogs about philosophy and mythology, building a gym, posting fitness-related content, etc.) in the first place was supposed to be about serving others; instead, I always seem to find a way of making it about building the kingdom of me.
It’s usually a random recollection of the myth of Narcissus and Echo that reigns me back in and causes me to take a step back to re-orient. If I find Narcissus in the driver’s seat, I know I need to change something up about what’s getting my time and attention. Am I giving things outside of myself—my community, my friends, my family—proper attention? Am I finding ways to serve them against my self-interest?
Attention is the rarest and purest form of generosity. - Simone Weil
We can never kill the Narcissus inside completely. Both he and Echo will live inside us as long as we do.
It’s not about trying to eliminate every shred of them; it’s about setting up guardrails that keep them within the zone of appropriate balance. Developing a regular cadence of checking in with yourself and honestly asking: in what ways is Narcissus showing up in my life? In what ways is Echo? How do I correct any imbalances?
I’m not sure it’s a balance we can ever completely nail. But that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t try.
o—o—o
P.S. Rainer Maria Rilke wrote a poem titled Narcissus that I’ve been trying to unpack for a while. I have a few theories but if you have any insights, I’d love to hear them! Poem below.
Narcissus by Rainer Maria Rilke:
Encircled by her arms as by a shell
she hears her being murmur,
while forever he endures
the outrage of his too pure image…Wistfully following their example,
nature re-enters herself;
contemplating its own sap, the flower
becomes too soft, and the boulder hardens…It’s the return of all desire that enters
toward all life embracing itself from afar…
where does it fall? Under the dwindling
surface, does it hope to renew a center?
Ovid, Metamorphoses, Fable VI.
Ovid, Metamorphoses, Fable VII.
Ovid, Metamorphoses, Fable VII.
Ovid, Metamorphoses, Fable VII.
Ovid, Metamorphoses, Fable VII.
Ovid, Metamorphoses, Fable VII.