Shmoop’s crack team of P.I.s recently broke into the offices of Dr. Logos, noted therapist to the gods. The following is a transcript of a particularly unsuccessful session he had with Medea.
Medea: I don’t know why I’m here.
Dr. Logos: You wouldn’t believe how often I hear that.
Medea: I’m perfectly well balanced.
Dr. Logos: Your goddess, Hecate, would differ with you on that notion.
Medea: I love my goddess, but sometimes she can be pretty bossy. What’s her problem? She’s the goddess of witchcraft, not minding-everybody-else’s-business.
Dr. Logos: Your grandfather, Helios, is worried about you as well.
Medea: He’s been such a busybody ever since Apollo took over his job of carrying the sun across the sky. I guess that’s what happens when you don’t have a life of your own to worry about.
Dr. Logos: He cares about you very much. He did give you your dragon-drawn chariot so that you could escape Corinth, after the, um, incident.
Medea: Don’t say it like that.
Dr. Logos: I’m not sure what you mean.
Medea: Don’t say “incident” and look at me like I’m some kind of criminal.
Dr. Logos: Medea, to be frank, many would consider your history of homicide to be the actions of a criminal. According to my records, you were responsible for the death of your own brother, King Pelias, King Creon, Princess Glauce, and your own children.
Medea: I didn’t come here to be judged.
Dr. Logos: I’m not here to judge you.
Medea: Okay, so I killed a few people when I was alive. So did all of those Greek heroes living the good life over in Elysium. Achilles, Theseus, Heracles, my awful ex-husband Jason—they all killed tons of people. Why am I always thought of as some kind of awful witch?
Dr. Logos: I think you know why, Medea.
Medea: What? Because I killed my kids? Heracles killed his kids, too! And what happened to him? They made him a GOD! I hate this. I hate everything. They were always out to get me. They hated me in Greece because I was foreign, because I was a witch, because I was a powerful woman! I wish I knew the spell to destroy them all. If I could, I’d summon an army of dragons to devour everyone and everything.
Dr. Logos: I’m hearing that you are angry. Is that right?
Medea: Gee, what gave that idea? Seriously, where did you get your degree?
Dr. Logos: That isn’t pertinent to our discussion.
Medea: Do you even have one?
Dr. Logos: We’re getting off topic. I’m sensing that you have a considerable amount of animosity toward men. Tell me, what was your relationship like with your father, King Aeetes?
Medea: It was great until Eros and Aphrodite made me fall in love with Jason. Dad never forgave me for helping that loser get the Golden Fleece. I shouldn’t have done it. How could I be so stupid? Jason was such a clueless hero. He never would’ve gotten that Fleece without me. I should’ve let the fire-breathing bulls turn him to cinders. Oh, how I wish the dragon’s teeth had chopped him into pieces. It would’ve been so marvelous to see the dragon that guarded the Fleece crunch that pathetic Greek in his jaws. Death, DEATH, DEEEEEEATH!
Dr. Logos: Well, alrighty then... I think that’ll be all the time we have for today.
Dr. Logos: Out of time... sorry.
Medea: Oh, so I pour my heart out, and you just kick me out?
Dr. Logos: I’m sorry, but I have another appointment.
Medea: How dare you reject me?
Dr. Logos: Now, now...
Medea: You men are all the same.
Dr. Logos: If you would like to schedule another appointment, my secretary...
Medea: Oh, I’ll be back! But I’ll be back riding a dragon! Then we’ll see!
[The door slams.]
Dr. Logos: Maybe I really am bad at this.