ARTEMIS

O’Connor offers a portrait of the Wild Goddess of the Hunt as probably the last of the Olympians you’d want to cross.

Born without labor pains (unlike her twin brother, Apollo) and a picture of gap-toothed charm as a child, Artemis grows into a lissome young white hunter with a ferocious glare beneath blonde bangs and a short way with all who offend her. Acteon learns this when he spots her bathing and is transformed into a deer to be torn apart by his own hounds, as does Queen Niobe of Thebes after she sets herself up as a replacement for the twins’ mother and sees all 14 of her children slaughtered. To keep temptation at bay and her sworn virginity intact, Artemis ultimately even has an arrow for her soul mate, the peerless hunter Orion—himself born, so the tale goes, from a bearskin on which Zeus, Poseidon, and Hermes “all, uh, micturated” (“Fun with words, kids,” O’Connor comments in an endnote). He is portrayed here as a brown-skinned  hunk with a herculean physique. Though the Olympians here are, by and large, a pale lot, groups of humans and demigods display some variation in hue. Artemis and Atalanta in particular show rather a lot of skin, but artful hand placement and angles of view keep things PG.

Admire her—from a distance—and don’t dis her or her mom.