- Arthur Bruso
- 10 hours ago
- 9 min read

June 20, 1952
What Theseus saw as he approached Greece, we saw this morning around eight, a sun very dangerous for the wax of Icarus’s wings. Engine trouble. Anchor in a high swell. Paul overhauls. We are still fifty miles from Candia. We start up again at ten. Patches of snow on the mountaintops.
One o’clock. We turn off the motor, which is overheating. These necessary and unpleasant stops (because of the swell) keep us from arriving before dark. We wait on deck.
Minos in love with Theseus. Pasiphaë still infatuated with her white bull and furious that her son is imprisoned because he has his father’s head. Phaedra, who calls her mother a cow, her father a pederast, and thinks of nothing but escaping from the island. Ariadne in love with Theseus; Icarus in love with Ariadne and tells her the secret of the thread; Ariadne tells it to Theseus in return for a promise of marriage. Theseus conspires with Phaedra to abandon her sister at Naxos, etc. A nice play, impossible to write because of the exhaustion I feel at the thought of my contemporaries’ extreme stupidity. The closer Orphée gets to the coast of Crete, the more clearly the play looms in my mind, and the more certain I am to give up – I have had enough of imbecile Europe.
Scenario: The journey of the twelve young men and the twelve maidens, taken to Crete to be “devoured by the Minotaur.” Endless journey, judging by ours. Atmosphere of a tuberculosis sanatorium. Since the monster is herbivorous, it is easy to see that the twelve maidens and twelve young men are destined to serve other appetites.
Jean Cocteau, Past/Tense the Cocteau Diaries Vol. 1
In this 1952 entry of Jean Cocteau’s diary, we get a glimpse of Cocteau’s thinking as he sails to Crete, bored and stuck on the yacht of his socialite patron. The yacht is having engine trouble because the swelling sea is forcing the engine to overwork. To compensate fighting the waves and keep the engine from overheating and causing major damage, it was necessary for the captain to stop the engine to allow it to cool, then move forward until it grew hot again. This necessary approach to saving the engine was causing an eight-hour jaunt to last nearly twice as long. To make the fitful journey less tedious, Cocteau begins to imagine a play based on the myth of the minotaur. Crete is the home of the mythological minotaur and for Cocteau it activates his imagination in the direction of the island’s most famous denizen.
What makes this particular passage from Cocteau’s diary singularly notable for me, is that in my copy an anonymous doodler drew a very competent illustration of the fabled minotaur Cocteau is referencing in his account of the day. The bull-headed monster is peeking out menacingly from behind the wall of the text block into the margin of the book. In the passage, Cocteau is managing a fairly coherent and irreverent outline of the play he has in mind. While the brief lines he writes are impertinent and charming, he has taken several artistic liberties with the accepted narrative of the myth. Unfortunately, he abruptly cuts off his reverie as he succumbs to his persistent frustration and anger at the human insistence on war and destruction. He is writing in his diary seven years after the end of WWII, and he is still outraged at the devastation and loss of human life caused by the war.
It would be quite a deviation for King Minos to fall in love with Theseus and perhaps a boon to gay storytelling, but the original myth gives a different take. Minos is a tyrant and quite smug about bringing mighty Athens to her knees. When he does spot the tall, handsome, and confident prince of Athens among the 14 newly arrived sacrifices to the minotaur (7 male and 7 female, not 24 as Cocteau asserts), Minos believes he has scored a coup against his enemy. As the victor of the war against Athens and as compensation and humiliation for the loss of his son in battle, Minos has ordered the brightest and most talented Athenian youth to be sent into the maze as sport and feed for the cannibalistic minotaur.
The minotaur itself was a product of the unholy union between Queen Pasiphaë, Minos’ wife and the sacred white bull Poseidon had sent to Crete as a sign that Minos was the true and able ruler of the island. Minos is the son of Europa who was seduced by Zeus in disguise as a white bull. To escape Hera’s jealous wrath over another of her husband’s infidelities, Zeus carries Europa off to the island of Crete where he safely marries her to King Asterion the ruler of the island. Europa already has had two other sons fathered by Zeus in addition to Minos. Understanding his duty to the mightiest of the gods, Asterion agrees to be their stepfather and wife of Europa.
Not being a true heir to the throne of Crete and in competition with his two other brothers, Minos asks Poseidon (the patron god of the island) to send a sign that he is the worthy ruler. Poseidon bargains with Minos, proffering a white bull (there is a theme here) rising out of the sea as the sign of Minos’ authority to the throne. There is a caveat, the miraculous white bull is presented as the asked for sign, but Poseidon has made it clear to Minos that it must be returned as a sacrifice in gratitude for the sign.
Upon seeing the white bull in the flesh, Minos becomes fascinated with its pristine color and its perfect form and decides to keep the bull and substitute a lesser animal for the sacrifice of thanks. Poseidon is neither fooled nor amused by Minos’ act of hubris. In retaliation for Minos’ covetousness of the sacred bull, Poseidon causes Queen Pasiphaë to develop an unnatural lust for the sacred white bull. A lust that is not satisfied until she mates with it.
From Queen Pasiphaë’s uncontrollable indiscretion is born the minotaur, a half bull, half human monster that craves human flesh. The minotaur is the physical manifestation of human greed, lust and hubris. When the gods make an agreement, a mortal cannot renege or change the terms of the agreement. The result will be ugly and dangerous.
Even though Queen Pasiphaë birthed a flesh-eating monster, she still harbored maternal feeling toward her progeny. She was never comfortable with Asterion (she named the beast after her father-in-law) being bull-faced and difficult to keep under control. Still, she was also acutely aware that the only reason that this brut of a child survived was because of its royal blood, and that it served Minos as a way to keep the conquered Athenians terrorized and under his oppression. In the outline of his unrealized play, Cocteau is correct that Queen Pasiphaë was angry at the imprisonment and treatment of her son, but she also understood that it was the only way to hide the royal abomination and keep the citizens of Crete safe from its cannibalistic nature.
Cocteau adds Phaedra into his minotaur drama. Phaedra is a daughter of King Minos and Queen Pasiphaë, but she is not featured in the minotaur myth at all. He is reusing a line from his 1949 play Rinaud et Armide that he found sharp and humorously vulgar that pares down her parent’s legacy. Calling Queen Pasiphaë a cow reduces her to the mating receptacle for the white bull. Accusing her father of pederasty aligns with ancient sources that accuse Crete under King Minos’ rule of inventing institutionalized pederasty. To control the population on an island with limited space, it is claimed by Aristotle* among others that Minos encouraged same sex relations between men, and to have embedded the practice into Cretan law. It is true that Phaedra, like her sister Ariadne, viewed their native island as more of a prison that they desperately wanted to escape from, than a paradise they hoped to rule.
Ariadne is the true love interest in the myth of the minotaur. It was she who set her sights on Theseus as soon as she saw him among the Athenian youth sacrifices. While his attractiveness, height, and confidence were appealing, it was his status as a prince that mostly caught Ariadne’s attention. She could be a princess in Athens, keep her rank, and leave the confines of her claustrophobic island. However, it was not Icarus as Cocteau would have it, who Ariadne went to for the solution to help Theseus maneuver the maze. It was his father Daedalus, the designer and builder of the maze who gave her the string that Theseus should drop behind him in order to trace his way back. As Mistress of the Entrance to the Maze, Ariadne had access to the human sacrifices. It was easy for her to slip the ball of string and a knife to Theseus. She did not do this out of pure love for Theseus. She made him promise to take her with him on his return to Athens and make her his queen. Besides being desperate to leave the confines of Crete and her tyrannical father, she understood that what she was doing was an act of treason. He father would not go easy on his daughter’s act of rebellion.
Theseus agreed to Ariadne’s demands, not because he returned her feelings of love, but because he needed Ariadne’s help to overcome the minotaur and release the hold Minos had on his people. In some ways he found Ariadne repellant. She was pushy and demanding. Additionally, she was purported to be a follower or even a priestess of Dionysus the god of wine, which in ancient times was often a euphemism for a lover of drink. So, Theseus used Ariadne’s ardor toward him to his advantage to navigate the maze and kill the minotaur to free Athens from the tyranny of Minos.
Although it may offer more intrigue than the original myth, Theseus did not conspire with Phaedra to abandon the irksome Ariadne on the island of Naxos as Cocteau imagines. Theseus was only too ready on his own to relieve himself from his empty vow to Ariadne. As agreed, and out of pity for her treason, Theseus took Ariadne with him as a passenger when he made his escape from Crete. Stopping at the safety of the island of Naxos for rest and supplies for the ship, the crew and passengers also celebrated escaping the horror of the minotaur. When it was time to set sail again and continue to Athens, Theseus took advantage of Ariadne’s deep, intoxicated slumber to leave the intolerable situation of Ariadne’s demands behind.
As a heroic figure, Theseus’ abandonment is difficult to justify. A prince as perfect in body, mind, and deed would never simply solve his dilemma of Ariadne by abandoning her in a foreign land. The storytellers offer reasonings that try to ease the offense of desertion. He was ordered by another god such as Dionysus or Athena to leave her behind, or bad weather while reboa#pashrding the ship prevented Theseus from getting her on board. Whatever the motivation, the usual ending is happy for Ariadne, she is found by the god Dionysus, and he marries her and she becomes cause for a “new constellation” when Dionysus throws her wedding crown into the sky. Of course, for the cynical this can also be interpreted that Ariadne become more of a drunkard after her abandonment and treachery by Theseus.

By adding the image of the minotaur as part of the Cocteau’s diary entry, the anonymous draftsperson brings not only a sense of the countenance of the half man – half bull monstrosity, but also how it may have terrorized the lost sacrificial youth by its lurking behind the next wall of the maze, by drawing him stepping out from behind the wall of text.
The minotaur is a symbol of all the fears and terrors we have when we navigate the unknown. It is a composite of all the imagined boogie men that we assume will thwart our progress as we try to move forward in life. We never know what we will encounter in the dark halls of fate or how we will vanquish the demons we are sure to find there as we grope our way to the center where the reward is supposed to lay. We cannot rely on a string to backtrack out of the maze, because life only moves forward. Our confidence and bravery may fail us in our attempts to inch our advance into the unknown. We have no Ariadne to goad us into the darkness. We may succumb to the minotaur at any turn, but there is no way but onward into the maze.
*Aristotle, The Politics, Book II, Chapter 10 (Bekker numbering 1272a 22–24).
Arthur Bruso © 2026






