Greek mythology

The Story of Minos and the Minotaur

At a Glance

  • Central figures: Minos, king of Crete and son of Zeus; Pasiphae his wife, daughter of the sun god Helios; the Minotaur, their monstrous half-man half-bull offspring; Daedalus, the Athenian craftsman; Theseus, prince of Athens; and Ariadne, daughter of Minos.
  • Setting: The island of Crete and the palace of Knossos, during the age of heroes; the wider Aegean world over which Minos held naval dominion.
  • The turn: Minos prays to Poseidon for a white bull to confirm his right to rule, promising to sacrifice it, then keeps the animal for himself - and Poseidon punishes him by making Pasiphae desire the bull.
  • The outcome: Pasiphae bears the Minotaur; Minos hides the creature in the Labyrinth beneath Knossos and forces Athens to feed it seven young men and seven young women every nine years, until Theseus kills the beast and ends the tribute.
  • The legacy: Minos is later killed in Sicily by the daughters of King Cocalus while hunting the fugitive Daedalus; the Labyrinth and the name of Minos endured as bywords for inescapable power and divine punishment.

Poseidon sent the bull from the sea, white as sea-foam, and every man who saw it understood that it was not an ordinary animal. Minos had prayed for exactly this: a sign from the god, visible and undeniable, that the throne of Crete was his by divine right. The bull walked out of the water and shook the salt from its coat. Minos looked at it and could not bring himself to cut its throat.

That hesitation cost him everything.

The Son of Zeus and Europa

Minos was not an ordinary king. His father was Zeus, who had crossed the sea in the shape of a bull to carry off Europa, a Phoenician princess - the god wearing the animal’s form long before any animal would be used to shame his son. From that union came Minos, and from Minos came a maritime empire that held the Aegean Sea as a private possession. He ruled from Knossos, on Crete’s northern coast, and the cities of Greece paid him tribute or faced his fleet.

His wife was Pasiphae, daughter of Helios the sun, which made the royal house of Knossos twiced touched by divinity and no safer for it. Great bloodlines do not protect a man from the gods. If anything they attract the gods’ attention, and the gods of Hellas are not gentle when they choose to notice you.

The White Bull and the Broken Vow

Poseidon heard the prayer and answered it with the bull, and the understanding between them was plain: a sacrifice. That was the cost of divine favor. Minos knew this. He stood on the beach with the animal in front of him and chose otherwise, sending to the altar a lesser bull from his own herd, an ordinary creature, worth nothing as an offering to a god who had just parted the sea.

Poseidon noticed.

The god’s response was not fire, not flood. It was something more intimate: he turned the desire of Pasiphae toward the white bull, so that the queen of Knossos burned for the animal her husband had been too proud to kill. This was the particular cruelty of divine punishment in Hellas - it found the place that would cause the most ruin and pressed there, and the wound it opened was always the king’s own pride reflected back at him in the worst possible form.

Daedalus and the Hollow Cow

Daedalus was the greatest craftsman alive, an Athenian exile whom Minos had brought to Crete for exactly the kind of problem that cannot be solved without genius. He had built things for the palace at Knossos that no other man could have built. When Pasiphae came to him with her affliction, he built her a hollow wooden cow, covered in real hide, fitted so that she could conceal herself inside it and be left in the fields where the white bull grazed.

The plan worked. Pasiphae conceived. Daedalus had done his job.

What Daedalus had also done was make himself complicit in the queen’s humiliation of the king - or rather in the god’s humiliation of the king through the queen - and Minos, when he understood what had happened and what role his craftsman had played, would not forget it. Daedalus had a long memory for solutions and a short one for consequences.

Pasiphae gave birth to a son. From the waist down he was a man; from the shoulders up, the thick neck and heavy head of a bull. He was the Minotaur - the bull of Minos - and he was strong from the beginning, and he fed on flesh.

The Labyrinth beneath Knossos

Minos could not kill the creature. It carried royal blood. He could not release it. It would destroy whatever it touched. The solution he chose was architecture: he called on Daedalus again and told him to build something from which nothing, once inside, could emerge. Daedalus built the Labyrinth beneath the palace - a maze of passages folding back on themselves in patterns that made no sense from within, corridors that seemed to lead forward and returned you to where you had been, galleries that narrowed to dead ends, turnings that bred new turnings. The Minotaur went into the center. The Labyrinth closed around it.

It was still hungry, and it needed feeding.

When Athens lost a war to Minos - or, in some accounts, when the death of Minos’s son Androgeos on Athenian soil gave him cause for war - the terms of peace included a tribute. Every nine years, Athens would send seven young men and seven young women to Crete. They would enter the Labyrinth. The Minotaur would find them in the dark.

Two tributes came and went. Athens mourned and paid. On the third cycle, Theseus, son of the Athenian king Aegeus, put his name among the fourteen.

Ariadne’s Thread

Theseus arrived in Crete as a tribute and caught the eye of Ariadne, daughter of Minos and Pasiphae. She was old enough to understand what happened to Athenians in the Labyrinth. She was in love with Theseus, or decided she was, the moment she saw him. She went to Daedalus - who had built the maze and knew better than anyone that a man without guidance would wander it until he starved or until the Minotaur found him - and Daedalus told her what to give the hero: a ball of thread.

Tie one end at the entrance, he said, and let it out behind you as you walk.

Ariadne brought the thread to Theseus. She told him to tie it at the door and unwind it as he went deeper in. She told him that if he killed the Minotaur and followed the thread back, she would be waiting, and she wanted his promise that he would take her away from Crete.

Theseus promised. He went in with the thread in one hand and his sword in the other.

The Killing of the Minotaur

The Minotaur was at the center, where it had always been. It had eaten and it would eat again. It was the shame of the palace, the punishment of the gods, the secret that everyone on Crete and half of Greece already knew about - all of this locked behind stone in a dark from which nothing returned. Theseus fought it. The accounts do not linger on how, exactly; what matters is that the Minotaur died, and Theseus followed the thread back through the passages, through the turnings, out the entrance.

He had done what he came to do. He took Ariadne and the surviving Athenians and sailed.

The Fate of Daedalus and Minos

When Minos discovered that Daedalus had given Ariadne the means to help Theseus, he imprisoned the craftsman and Daedalus’s son Icarus in the Labyrinth itself. Daedalus solved the problem the way he always solved problems: he built a way out that did not exist before. He made wings of feathers and wax, enough for two, and he and Icarus flew up out of the maze and over the sea. He told Icarus not to fly too high. Icarus flew too high. The sun dissolved the wax and the boy fell into the water and drowned, somewhere south of Samos in the sea that still carries his name.

Daedalus flew on to Sicily and took refuge with King Cocalus. Minos spent the years that followed hunting him. He traced Daedalus by a riddle - a spiral shell, which only Daedalus could thread - and followed the solution to Cocalus’s court in Sicily. The daughters of Cocalus did not want Minos taking their guest. They killed him in his bath, the great king of Crete, boiled alive in water that should have been warm and welcoming.

The Labyrinth outlasted him, and the name of the man who built it, and the name of the creature at its center, and the name of the hero who followed a thread back to the light.