The Tenth Muse

Meet the Word Witch Sappho

“someone will remember us
I say
even in another time”
― Sappho, If Not, Winter: Fragments of Sappho, Anne Carson

With her ink and poems, Sappho, the Word Witch, the Poetess, cast a spell across time that we might remember her. Through her flame-found fragments, we do. Today, the poet Sappho is known for her eroticism, her feminist perspective, and as a Queer icon from the days of antiquity.

Her poems are that of love spells.

Sappho was born in approximately 620 BCE, most likely to an aristocratic family on the island of Lesbos. She was honored and praised by figures such as Plato, and her face was placed on coins and statues. Although little is known about her life, her name conjures up that of “Poet,” and she was known as “The Poetess.”

Amongst the lines left to us, passed notes from another era, you can find ceremonial affirmations of Eros (perhaps read at wedding ceremonies) and hymns to Aphrodite in her poetry. Her words are found on archeological vases and pottery. She is considered one of the first Poets to write from a first-person narrative; instead of giving voice to the Gods, she speaks about personal desires.

“...gracious your form and your eyes as honey: desire is poured upon your lovely face Aphrodite has honored you exceedingly...” - Sappho, If Not, Winter: Fragments of Sappho, Anne Carson

Though we remember this Word Witch, we only know her for her words that survived being burned. All that remains are four complete poems and a handful of fragments passed through time.

Yet, even with scraps, many poets, publishers, scholars, researchers, readers and writers have explored her work, breathing new life into the lines and honoring this ancient woman. Her final resting place is unknown, and how she passed through the veil is also a mystery, but the myths say that her ashes were sent out to sea to be scattered to the four corners.

She is both a historical figure and a creative ancestor, something more amorphous; she is the origin of Sapphic and the etymology of Lesbian. She is still the tenth muse, urging us Word Witches to keep going, writing, and loving in our own unique and unbounded ways.

“Ode to Aphrodite”

Deathless Aphrodite of the spangled mind,
child of Zeus, who twists lures, I beg you
do not break with hard pains,
O lady, my heart

but come here if ever before
you caught my voice far off
and listening left your father’s
golden house and came,

yoking your car. And fine birds brought you,
quick sparrows over the black earth
whipping their wings down the sky
through midair—

they arrive. But you, O blessed one,
smiled in your deathless face
and asked what (now again) I have suffered and why
(now again) I am calling out

and what I want to happen most of all
in my crazy heart. Whom should I persuade (now again)
to lead you back into her love? Who, O
Sappho, is wronging you?

For if she flees, soon she will pursue.
If she refuses gifts, rather will she give them.
If she does not love, soon she will love
even unwilling.

Come to me now: loose me from hard
care and all my heart longs
to accomplish, accomplish. You
be my ally.

(Sappho, If Not, Winter: Fragments of Sappho, Anne Carson, 2–5)