Here she is – in all her classic sculptural splendor, the leading lady of legend for millennia: Sappho herself. Fabled poetess of fifth century B.C.E. Greece, her passionate leap from the Leucadian cliffs into the Ionian Sea provoked, they said, by despair over unrequited love. On a recent trip through Greece and Turkey my colleague Joe Yogerst, captured her now serene image when visiting Istanbul.  

Sappho’s fame in her own time came from her poetry. Over time, her impetuous and dramatic expression of despair at the indifference of the boatman, Phaeon, grew to legend, transcended national boundaries, crossed time and landscape and is now a feature across the globe.

When Leland found Mark Twain’s account in Life on the Mississippi, of Winona’s near fatal leap from a peak above Lake Pepin, we didn’t know we were embarking on a quest that would range from here to ancient Greece, across the westering American frontier, and to remote island nations of the Pacific and the Indian Ocean.  Nope. We just laughed at Twain’s sardonic account and his description of the raconteur who told the tale.

But the quest beckoned and off we went – to find a string, a reason, a common thread for the tales of passionate love so compelling that life without it was not possible. It took a while to get from Lake Pepin in Wisconsin to Cape Leucadia in ancient Greece – but the crumbs were scattered across the millennia, across continents.

Over the centuries her story never faded from cultural memory. Indeed, her woeful saga inspired other romantic tales: Romeo and Juliet was one such tale. But so was the story of lovely Frida, a country lass from the west of England; and the interfaith lovers in eighteenth century Spain who met their fate at La Peña de los Enamorados near the city of Antequera, Málaga Province in Andalusia.

We found many images of Sappho over the centuries.  Her plunge was a favorite theme of nineteenth-century artists. Pictures of Indian maidens actually jumping off cliffs are rare. However, in Gadsden, Alabama a 9’ tall bronze statue created by the Baroness Suzanne Silvercruys commemorates the leap of Noccalula.

Google alerts most often bring up the Leaps at Rock City, Tenn, Jamaica’s Leap above Cutlass Bay, and (recently) Trincomalee Harbor in Sri Lanka. Road (or sea, or air) trip anyone?

The first account that we found in the new United States was reported by Zebulon Pike (yes the Pike the mountain in Colorado was named for). Before his western explorations, in 1805, he was commissioned to find the source of the Mississippi. As they waited out the weather one night, the grizzled Scottish trapper/trader guide regaled them with tales, one of which was about a young Sioux woman who was being forced into a loveless marriage. Rather than submit, she cast herself from the heights above Lake Pepin (full circle back to Mark Twain!). Pike’s journal of his expedition up the Mississippi was reviewed by the The Baltimore Repertory (Jan. 1811).

Pike’s brief mention of the Sioux woman’s leap from the cliff along Lake Pepin was quoted in full. Then followed a comparison of the Indian legend in the wilderness of Jefferson’s Louisiana Purchase with a 2,700-year-old classical legend.. . . . . “It was thought that ancient Greece alone had her Leucadian rock; and the desperate leap of Sappho had consecrated it in the eyes of all the enthusiasts of love in succeeding generations. Who would have supposed that the rocks of the Mississippi were destined to be its rival . . .?

Lover’s Leap Legends, p. 47

• 

• 

• 

• 

• 

• 

• 

• 

 

---

Lens & Pen Press is having a half-price sale for all titles. Lover’s Leap Legends, Damming the Osage, Mystery of the Irish Wilderness and others are now available on our website at www.dammingtheosage.com for half the original price, postage paid.