I love the ancient world. I did my degree in Ancient History because I didn’t know what else to do and I thought I might as well do something that I enjoy.

The ancients, particularly the ancient Greeks, were incredibly rich and articulate thinkers. They created a pantheon of flawed gods, who are relatable because, while they might be powerful, there’s something human in their fragile egos.

There’s a certain myth that’s been rattling around my head lately – the story of Tiresias, the Greek prophet who lived as both a man and a woman.

I encountered him first when I was studying Sophocles’s “Oedipus Rex”.

According to one version of the myth, Tiresias was asked by Zeus and Hera to settle an argument: who enjoys sex more, men or women? Tiresias, having experienced both, replied that women do – by a landslide. Hera, in a fit of divine pique, struck him blind for his trouble.

Zeus, perhaps feeling guilty or just appreciating a good honest answer, gave Tiresias the gift of second sight to compensate. So, Tiresias loses his literal vision but gains insight – a metaphor if ever there was one for what happens when you speak an unwelcome truth about gender and embodiment to power.

It’s hard not to see Hera here as a kind of mythic patron of respectability – a goddess who, despite being routinely wronged by the patriarchal order, fiercely defends it. Rather than challenge the system that causes her pain, she becomes its enforcer. Her rage is real, but it’s misdirected: not at the powerful, but at the those whom she can hurt with impunity. Tiresias, the truth-teller, becomes the target.

The parallels don’t need spelling out. Let’s just say: some things never change, even on Mount Olympus.