Though The Lightning Thief by its very nature concerns gods, Riordan nevertheless goes to great lengths to humanize (and add a humorous aspect to) every god, goddess, and mythical being in the novel. From Medusa’s roadside fast food restaurant and sculpture garden to Dionysus’s obvious displeasure at being forced to run Camp Half-Blood and remain sober, all the gods and monsters read as distinctly human—just with magical abilities and a great deal of power. By humanizing the gods in this way, the novel is able to make the case that it’s extremely important to recognize a person’s (or a god’s) humanity, offer them respect, and treat them kindly. It also shows that while gods may have outsize powers, in important ways, they’re not so different from the mortals who worship them. This in turn begins to explain why the stories of Greek gods and goddesses are so relatable, and why these stories have persisted for millennia.
Percy first begins learning about the Greek gods and goddesses in school. In school, the gods and goddesses are just characters in stories to Percy, and so they seem fundamentally unknowable. This has to with the fact that as far as Percy is concerned, the gods and goddesses are entirely fictional. It also stems from the fact that in the stories, the gods and goddesses are mere archetypes, not necessarily fully fleshed-out individuals. Because of this, it’s a major shock for Percy when he stumbles upon Camp Half-Blood and learns that the Greek gods he thought were just stories aren’t just alive and well; Mount Olympus has traveled from place to place as the epicenter of Western civilization has moved over the years. Though it started in Greece, it later traveled to Rome and in Percy’s present day, Mount Olympus is on the 600th floor of the Empire State Building in New York. By tying Greek mythology to Western civilization as a whole, the novel makes the case that even if this particular polytheistic belief system no longer holds sway as religion in the present day, it nevertheless is alive and well in terms of culture. Chiron, a centaur who posed as Percy’s Latin teacher at Yancy, insists that the Greek-style architecture that crops up all over the Western world is a testament to the staying power of these stories. In other words, even if one doesn’t believe in the gods themselves, the gods’ sway over Western culture is impossible to ignore.
Percy, however, must come to terms with the fact that the gods he thought were just characters are actually real beings with thoughts, feelings, rivalries, and alliances all their own. While he initially follows his friends at Camp Half-Blood as being as reverent as possible of the gods and goddesses, his quest helps him to see that the gods aren’t just beings to be revered—in important ways, the seem almost human and thus can (and in some cases, should) be treated or thought of just like any other person. This is most telling when Percy, Grover, and Annabeth enter the Underworld. They feel wildly unprepared to take on Cerberus, the three-headed dog who guards the gates of the Underworld—but they soon discover that the stories about Cerberus didn’t exactly get his personality right. He may be a fearsome beast, but he also loves rubber balls and clearly doesn’t get enough playtime or exercise. By playing with Cerberus, they learn that he’s not just a terrifying monster—he’s a dog, first and foremost, and he might not be so mean if someone were to give him the attention he wants. The same thing happens when Percy meets Hades: Percy can tell that while Hades might be the keeper of the Underworld and is therefore thought of as an evil deity, he’s not all that bad. He simply yearns for recognition from his brothers Zeus and Poseidon, and in an ideal world, he’d like to get out of the Underworld now and then—a desire that Percy can understand entirely. Most importantly, Hades follows through on his promise to return Percy’s Mom to him when Percy returns Hades’s helmet, something that solidifies Percy’s conception of Hades as a decent, if somewhat scary, guy.
Through these experiences, Percy doesn’t begin to view the gods as any less powerful or important, but he does begin to recognize the necessity of not seeing them just as otherworldly, divine beings. They may be that, but they’re also parents learning how to be parents, lovers figuring out how to see each other behind their spouses’ backs, and siblings constantly negotiating their relationships to each other. Through this, the novel makes the case that even the most terrifying and powerful entities are, at the end of the day, human—and should be treated as such: with respect, dignity, and compassion.
Godliness vs. Humanity ThemeTracker
Godliness vs. Humanity Quotes in The Lightning Thief
“Will Grover be okay?” I asked Chiron.
Chiron nodded, though he looked a bit troubled. “Old Dionysus isn’t really mad. He just hates his job. He’s been...ah, grounded, I guess you would say, and he can’t stand waiting another century before he’s allowed to go back to Olympus.”
“You mean the Greek gods are here? Like...in America?”
“Well, certainly. The gods move with the heart of the West.”
“The what?”
“Come now, Percy. What you call ‘Western civilization.’ Do you think it’s just an abstract concept? No, it’s a living force. A collective consciousness that has burned bright for thousands of years. The gods are part of it.”
“That’s the only way to know for sure: your father has to send you a sign claiming you as his son. Sometimes it happens.”
“You mean sometimes it doesn’t?”
Annabeth ran her palm along the rail. “The gods are busy. They have a lot of kids and don’t always...Well, sometimes they don’t care about us, Percy. They ignore us.”
Just when I’d started to feel accepted, to feel like I had a home in cabin eleven and I might be a normal kid—or as normal as you can be when you’re a half-blood—I’d been separated out as if I had some rare disease.
I felt so relieved I wanted to cry, though I didn’t think that would be very heroic. Grover was the only friend I’d ever had for longer than a few months. I wasn’t sure what good a satyr could do against the forces of the dead, but I felt better knowing he’d be with me.
“I appeared on my father’s doorstep, in a golden cradle [...] You’d think my dad would remember that as a miracle, right? Like, maybe he’d take some digital photos or something. But he always talked about my arrival as if it were the most inconvenient thing that had ever happened to him. When I was five he got married and totally forgot about Athena. He got a ‘regular’ mortal wife, and had two ‘regular’ mortal kids, and tried to pretend I didn’t exist.”
I thought maybe Annabeth and I both had the right idea. Even here in the Underworld, everybody—even monsters—needed a little attention once in a while.
Immediately I knew that’s where I wanted to go when I died.
“That’s what it’s all about,” Annabeth said, like she was reading my thoughts. That’s the place for heroes.”
But I thought of how few people there were in Elysium, how tiny it was compared to the Fields of Asphodel or even the Fields of Punishment. So few people did good in their lives. It was depressing.
“More security ghouls,” he moaned. “Traffic problems at the judgment pavilion. Double overtime for the staff. I used to be a rich god, Percy Jackson. I control all the precious metals under the earth. But my expenses!”
[...]
“Problems everywhere, and I’ve got to handle all of them personally. The commute time alone from the palace to the gates is enough to drive me insane! And the dead just keep arriving.”
“Hades will be mad at both Zeus and Poseidon, because he doesn’t know who took this. Pretty soon, we got a nice little three-way slugfest going on.”
“But they’re your family!” Annabeth protested.
Ares shrugged. “Best kind of war. Always the bloodiest. Nothing like watching your relatives fight, I always say.”
The middle Fury, the one who had been Mrs. Dodds, stepped forward. Her fangs were bared, but for once she didn’t look threatening. She looked more disappointed, as if she’d been planning to have me for supper, but had decided I might give her indigestion.
I realize Hades must’ve built his palace to resemble this one. He wasn’t welcomed in Olympus except on the winter solstice, so he’d built his own Olympus underground. Despite my bad experience with him, I felt a little sorry for the guy. To be banished from this place seemed really unfair. It would make anybody bitter.
I got the feeling Poseidon really didn’t know what to think of me. He didn’t know whether he was happy to have me as a son or not. In a strange way, I was glad that Poseidon was so distant. If he’d tried to apologize, or told me he loved me, or even smiled, it would’ve felt fake. Like a human dad, making some lame excuse for not being around. I could live with that. After all, I wasn’t sure about him yet, either.