







































COLUMBIA SOCIAL WORK REVIEW, VOL. XIX  |   83   

Choosing a Frame:
How Medusa Tells the 
Story of Trauma and 
Life After Trauma

EZRA YURMAN-WHYDE



84  |  COLUMBIA SOCIAL WORK REVIEW, VOL. XXI 

CHOOSING A FRAME

ABSTRACT

This paper names the elements of the Medusa myth that make it an 
uncanny allegory for trauma and examines the role of choice—both 
OH]PUN�JOVPJL�HUK�VɈLYPUN�JOVPJL·PU�[OL�[YLH[TLU[�VM�[YH\TH��0[�
JVUZPKLYZ�[^V�WLYZWLJ[P]LZ�VU�[OL�T`[O!�����4LK\ZH�HZ�H�JHW[P]L�
object to the hero in the myth and (2) Medusa as an autobiographer, 
the narrator of her own story, and a subject working to establish more 
control over her own experience. This myth translates to the social 
^VYR�ZWHJL��>OLU�H�JSPUPJHS�ZVJPHS�^VYRLY�HJ[Z�HZ�[OL�SPZ[LULY�VIZLY]LY�
HUK�H�WH[PLU[�HZ�UHYYH[VY�H\[VIPVNYHWOLY��[OL�ZVJPHS�^VYRLY�PZ�\UPX\LS`�
positioned to support the patient in reclaiming life after trauma.

Keywords: Medusa, trauma, autobiography, Freud, Herman, Cavarero



COLUMBIA SOCIAL WORK REVIEW, VOL. XXI  |   85   

EZRA YURMAN-WHYDE

The Gorgons turned men who looked into their living, 
venomous, snake-encrusted faces to stone. I wonder what 
might have happened if those men had known how to politely 
greet the dreadful chthonic ones (Haraway, 2016, p. 54).

To narrate is to edit and revise, to decide and imbue meaning. The 
narrator is the voice we hear, the voice which crafts our beginnings 
and endings and directs the process of mythmaking. The challenge of 
capturing one central myth of Medusa, sometimes called the Gorgon or 
Gorgo, lies in the transience of myth, with its various versions compiled 
through written and oral histories, each with details slightly adjusted 
[V�JYLH[L�H�UL^�T`[O��,HJO�UL^�T`[O�OHZ�H�KPɈLYLU[�TVYHS�VY�L[OPJHS�
alignment and narrative. 

Medusa’s name refers originally to her role as a mindful ruler and 
guardian (Gordon, 2014). Her myth, captured by such classical authors 
as Homer, Hesiod, Ovid, and Lucan, likely originates from the classical 
Greek period of 500 BCE-336 BCE (Silverman, 2016). It is the story 
of a beautiful, mortal woman who is raped and turned into a monster. 
Medusa, said to be even more attractive than Aphrodite, draws the 
attention of Poseidon, the god of the sea, who rapes Medusa in the 
[LTWSL�VM�([OLUH��;OL�]PYNPUHS��HZL_\HS�NVKKLZZ�([OLUH��VɈLUKLK�[OH[�
her temple has been desecrated, punishes Medusa by transforming 
her countenance from beauty to horror, giving her a head of snakes. It 
PZ�ZHPK�[OH[�HU`VUL�^OV�KHYLZ�SVVR�H[�4LK\ZH�^PSS�IL�WL[YPÄLK�PU�Z[VUL��
But the brave and cunning Perseus, the hero of the story, uses a mirror 
[V�ZOV^�4LK\ZH�OLY�V^U�YLÅLJ[PVU��)`�\ZPUN�OLY�WV^LY�HNHPUZ[�OLY��
he turns her to stone and is able to decapitate her. Perseus takes the 
head of Medusa and wields it as a weapon along his journey, eventually 
gifting Medusa’s head to Athena and saving a princess. The story 
ends happily in marriage between our hero Perseus and the princess, 
Andromeda. 



86  |  COLUMBIA SOCIAL WORK REVIEW, VOL. XXI 

;OL�JSPUPJHS�ZVJPHS�^VYRLY�ILULÄ[Z�MYVT�YLJVUZPKLYPUN�[OL�OLYV»Z�
perspective, particularly when approaching treatment with survivors 
of trauma. The clinical social worker may be tempted, consciously or 
\UJVUZJPV\ZS �̀�[V�PKLU[PM`�^P[O�[OL�OLYV»Z�UHYYH[P]L!�7LYZL\Z��^OV�ZL[�
V\[�[V�JVUX\LY�[OL�.VYNVU��PZ�H�TL[HWOVY�MVY�[OL�^VYRLY�ZL[[PUN�V\[�[V�
alleviate the psychopathology of trauma. The clinical social worker, no 
matter their good intentions, runs the risk of overexerting control in the 
treatment of trauma if the patient’s sense of choice is not paramount. 
Attempts to optimize healing, alleviate pain, prioritize treatment 
protocols, or evade the trauma dismiss the painful, yet necessary, 
process of the patient grappling with the loss of control they once 
experienced. In the treatment of trauma, hope lies in the ability of the 
clinical social worker to see the patient with open eyes, to align with the 
patient, to revisit dichotomies of self vs. other, and to understand the 
reestablishment of commonality as the ability to recognize oneself in 
another, to commune, and to feel seen. By considering the perspective 
of Medusa, the clinical social worker comes closer to understanding 
[OL�Z\Y]P]VY�Z�Z[VY �̀�HSSV^PUN�[OL�^VYRLY�[V�ILJVTL�TVYL�HKLW[�H[�
supporting the survivor in more fully stepping into their role as narrator 
of their own story, autobiographer charting their own narrative arc.

MEDUSA AS AN OBJECT IN PSYCHOANALYTIC THOUGHT

Medusa’s long existence in the clinical imagination consists mostly 
of plucking her from context, creating an image on which to project 
TLHUPUN��-VY�:PNT\UK�-YL\K��� �������H���[OL�4LK\ZH�T`[O�PZ�H�
TLHUZ�MVY�PSS\Z[YH[PUN�[OL�LɈLJ[Z�VM�[OL�MLTHSL�IVK`·WHY[PJ\SHYS`�
the mother’s body—on the male subject. For the male onlooker, 
Freud claims that the phallic snakes resting atop Medusa’s head are 
themselves “a mitigation of the horror, for they replace the penis, the 
HIZLUJL�VM�^OPJO�PZ�[OL�JH\ZL�VM�[OL�OVYYVY¹��-YL\K��� �������H��WW��
84-85). Freud’s framework positions Medusa as an object to be gazed 
\WVU��HU�VIQLJ[�\ZLM\S�VUS`�MVY�P[Z�LɈLJ[Z�VU�[OL�THSL�WZ`JOL��UV[�OLYZLSM�
a subject with an internal world. 

CHOOSING A FRAME



COLUMBIA SOCIAL WORK REVIEW, VOL. XXI  |   87   

Freud positions himself within a tradition of seeing Medusa as an object 
of horror. In tellings of the myth, Medusa’s decapitated head is said 
to bring about the birth of Pegasus, the winged horse, and the blood 
that drips from her head is said to fall to the ground, transforming into 
ZUHRLZ�[OH[�UV^�YVHT�[OL�KLZLY[�VM�3PI`H��/LZPVK�������������;OLZL�
iterations of the myth have historically taken up Medusa as a dead 
thing, not a person. Freud, too, is interested only in Medusa’s detached 
head. Freud’s male subject sees Medusa’s head and is reminded of 
OPZ�V^U�JHZ[YH[PVU�JVTWSL_��P�L��¸[V�KLJHWP[H[L�$�[V�JHZ[YH[L¹"�-YL\K��
� �������H��W�������(Z�H�SVJ\Z�MVY�THSL�WZ`JOVZL_\HS�KL]LSVWTLU[��
Medusa is made to symbolize an abject horror felt by a young boy 
ZLLPUN�OPZ�TV[OLY»Z�NLUP[HSPH��-YL\K��� ����������

-LTPUPZ[�[OPURLY�:HYHO�2VMTHU��� ���������JH[LNVYPaLZ�-YL\K»Z�HJJV\U[�
of Medusa’s head symbolizing the embodiment of the mother’s genitalia 
as fetishism, because the account deals primarily with the symbolic 
meaning of Medusa’s parts rather than her whole role as a character 
PU�[OL�T`[O��5V[�VUS`�KVLZ�-YL\K��� �������H��KLHS�WYPTHYPS`�^P[O�
4LK\ZH»Z�OLHK�J\[�MYVT�OLY�IVK �̀�¸I\[�[OL�ÄN\YL�OLYZLSM�PZ�J\[�H^H`�
from, among other things, her relationship to her two sisters” (Gordon, 
2014, p. 116). In his analysis of her parts, Freud names the various 
fragmented objects of Medusa “uncanny.” He states that “severed 
heads” and female genitalia provoke the experience of the uncanny 
"double take," or an experience of seeing something so similar to 
ZVTL[OPUN�LSZL��`L[�KPɈLYLU[��^OPJO�JH\ZLZ�\ULHZL·L]LU�OVYYVY·PU�[OL�
VUSVVRLY��-YL\K��� � �����I��WW������������

For the clinical social worker, Freud’s reductive reading of Medusa 
serves as a warning. By adopting a schema that aligns with the hero’s 
narrative, the clinician runs the risk of encouraging a framework which 
treats patients as clusters of symptoms (parts) and characterological 
traits to be overcome and changed (decapitated). Particularly in work 
with patients who have survived trauma, the popularity of trauma-
PUMVYTLK�THU\HSPaLK�[YLH[TLU[Z�HUK�[OL�THUKH[L�MVY�LɉJHJPV\Z�
progress to predicate reimbursability are at odds with the process of 
UHYYH[PUN!�[LSSPUN�HUK�YL[LSSPUN��YLLUHJ[PUN��TLHUKLYPUN�HUK�WH\ZPUN��

EZRA YURMAN-WHYDE



88  |  COLUMBIA SOCIAL WORK REVIEW, VOL. XXI 

WPJRPUN�\W�H[�KPɈLYLU[�WSHJLZ�[OHU�^OLYL�VUL�SLM[�VɈ��JYLH[PUN�UL^�
directions of memory and thought that previously lay dormant or didn’t 
previously exist. When the social worker ceases to see the patient as a 
human subject, instead favoring the proper operationalized intervention, 
the psychotherapeutic process becomes the actual uncanny thing—a 
forged replica, a capitalistic, hollowed endeavor that only hints at the 
original power of the therapeutic process that prioritizes connection.

MEDUSA AS A SUBJECT AND HER TRAUMATIC 
EXPERIENCE

Medusa does not have to exist solely as an object in clinical discourse; 
nor should she. I propose a clinical approach that, as psychologist and 
WZ`JOVHUHS`Z[�+VYPZ�:PS]LYTHU�W\[Z�P[��H[[LTW[Z�[V�¸ÄUK�H�SPILYH[PUN�
YLM\NL�PU�H�Z`TIVSPJ�ÄN\YL�^P[O�NYLH[�HUK�ÄLYJL�WV^LY�HUK�MYLLKVT¹�
(2016, p. 117). To grapple with Medusa as a subject is to see her as 
a person working through trauma. A reading of the myth that doesn’t 
account for her surviving a brutal rape is, to say the least, limited. A 
JSVZL�YLHKPUN�VM�4LK\ZH»Z�T`[O�VɈLYZ�[OL�VWWVY[\UP[`�[V�WYVTV[L�OLY�
subjectivity, agency, and choice–-an approach which can be applied in 
the clinical setting. 

The frame with which the clinical social worker enters the therapeutic 
dyad tells its own narrative about the positionality of the worker and 
trauma survivor respectively. It is precisely the way of seeing self 
and other that has the capacity to empower and disempower and to 
promote commonality and separateness, connection and disconnection. 
The processes of telling one’s own story, working it out, and inhabiting 
a self-other relationship in which one tells and one listens serve 
as reparative acts that reintegrate the survivor’s sense of selfhood 
�Z\IQLJ[P]P[`��^P[OPU�[OL�SHYNLY�JVU[L_[�VM�[OLPY�^VYSK��;V�VɈLY�H�Z\Y]P]VY�
the choice of determining their own narrative is one attempt the clinical 
social worker can make to imbue power and promote commonality 
in the therapeutic dyad, and by extension, support the survivor’s 
reintegration into their everyday life.

CHOOSING A FRAME



COLUMBIA SOCIAL WORK REVIEW, VOL. XXI  |   89   

In analyzing trauma, we can consider post-traumatic stress disorder as 
a culmination of uncanny experiences. The symptoms of PTSD include 
YL�L_WLYPLUJPUN�[OL�[YH\TH�[OYV\NO�ÅHZOIHJRZ��ZVTH[PJ�YLWSPJH[PVU�VM�
the arousal state experienced during the trauma (hyperarousal), and 
reliving the event through nightmares. These symptoms are uncanny 
because of the unease they strike in their subject. By alluding to 
something familiar, the subject is forced to recollect the moment of the 
inciting traumatic event. Flashbacks are like memories, except they are 
disjointed relivings. Flashbacks are not integrated parts of self that serve 
the construction of a cohesive narrative; rather, they are fragmented 
and activating. They are involuntary jolts out of the present state. In 
Medusa’s myth, the scenes that move the hero’s narrative forward are 
WYLKPJH[LK�VU�TLU�HJ[PUN�VU�4LK\ZH!�MVY�L_HTWSL��4LK\ZH»Z�JH]L�PZ�
LU[LYLK�^P[OV\[�OLY�WLYTPZZPVU�I`�[OL�TLU�^OV�H[[LTW[�[V�JVUX\LY�OLY�

Constriction, hyperarousal, and intrusion are the major post-traumatic 
symptoms that an individual may experience in the aftermath of trauma 
(Herman, 2015). Hyperarousal, or having an “extreme startle response” 
and “intense reaction” to otherwise benign stimuli, is a striking concept 
when contextualized in the Medusa myth, especially when it comes 
to the example of Medusa’s decapitated head (Herman, 2015, p. 36). 
Her head, if we take Freud’s view, is a horror, a frightening object 
that induces a startle response in the eyes of the onlooker. A defense 
TLJOHUPZT�ÄYZ[�UHTLK�I`�4LSHUPL�2SLPU��WYVQLJ[P]L�PKLU[PÄJH[PVU��PZ�
KLZJYPILK�HZ�H�[^V�Z[LW�WYVJLZZ!�ÄYZ[��[OL�WH[PLU[�WYVQLJ[Z�H�WHY[�VM�
themself onto the other, and second, the other experiences “pressures” 
[V�MLLS�HUK�HJ[�PU�HJJVYKHUJL�[V�[OL�JHZ[�VɈ�WHY[��0ZZHJOHYVɈ��(��
�/\U[��
W., 1994, p. 593). For Medusa, the act of looking is her act of projecting 
onto men the symptoms associated with trauma, notably the “intense 
startle response” of hyperarousal (Herman, 2015, p. 36). While projective 
PKLU[PÄJH[PVU�PZ�UV[�JOHYHJ[LYPaLK�HZ�H�[YH\TH�YLZWVUZL�I`�/LYTHU��ZOL�
does detail the “involuntariness” of trauma responses, and notes that 
where there is involuntariness, there exist unconscious desires (Herman, 
2015, p. 41). Hurt, isolated, and traumatized, Medusa develops a 
desperate, unconscious desire to rid herself of Athena’s curse. She 

EZRA YURMAN-WHYDE



90  |  COLUMBIA SOCIAL WORK REVIEW, VOL. XXI 

attempts to project her own fear and hyperarousal onto her onlookers in 
an attempt to free herself from reliving the traumatic experience. 

Intrusion and its role in the lived experience of trauma appear when 
TLU�]PZP[�4LK\ZH»Z�JH]L�PU�HU�LɈVY[�[V�[HTL�HUK�JVUX\LY�OLY��;OLPY�
attempts to enter Medusa’s cave can be read as an allusion to the rape 
[OH[�ILNPUZ�[OL�T`[O!�HZ�YLLUHJ[TLU[Z�VM�OLY�[YH\TH��0U[Y\ZPVU�HUK�
constriction characterize Medusa’s responses to these men.1 Medusa is 
cast as the embodiment of her intrusive thoughts, faced with reliving her 
trauma each time a man forces himself into her cave. 

Intrusive thoughts and the compulsion to repeat behaviors assign the 
survivor the role of the repeater. The survivor plays out the trauma over 
and over again, just as Medusa involuntarily kills anyone attempting 
[V�JVUX\LY�OLY��;OLPY�Z[VUL�JVYWZLZ�Z[YL^U�HJYVZZ�OLY�JH]L�HYL�
reminders of every attempt to enter her. Here we glimpse constriction, 
VY�¸WHYHS`ZPZ�VM�[OL�TPUK¹!�[OL�¸MYVaLUULZZ¹�VM�4LK\ZH»Z�KLZ[PU`�VM�
KLZ[P[\[PVU��/LYTHU��������WW����������6]PK��������������OPNOSPNO[Z�
these monuments to Medusa’s trauma when describing Perseus’s 
LU[YHUJL�PU[V�[OL�JH]L!�¸(JYVZZ�[OL�ÄLSKZ�HUK�HSVUN�[OL�[YHJRZ�OL�OHK�
ZLLU�[OL���Z[H[\LZ���VM�TLU�HUK�VM�ILHZ[Z�[YHUZMVYTLK�[V�Z[VUL�H[�[OL�
sight of Medusa” (p. 170). She becomes a link in the chain of her own 
J`JSL�VM�]PVSLUJL��0UJHWHISL�VM�ZLSM�KLÄUP[PVU�VY�]VS\U[HY`�HJ[PVU��ZOL�
becomes unreachable, a woman whose gaze can never be met–-that is, 
WHYHS`aLK��Z[\U[LK��HUK�T\JO�SPRL�[OL�WL[YPÄLK�Z[H[\LZ�VM�TLU�

Herman notes that navigating the legal, familial, and social services 
systems in the aftermath of trauma can be retraumatizing if the 
survivor’s sense of agency is not upheld. In the aftermath of Medusa’s 
rape, she is punished by Athena, who attributes the trauma to 
Medusa’s beauty. Once again, we see that Medusa, as the survivor, 
is considered only as an object and is blamed for the trauma forced 

��0U[Y\ZPVU�KLHSZ�^P[O�^OH[�1\KP[O�/LYTHU�JHSSZ�[OL�¸PUKLSPISL�PTWYPU[¹�VM��VY�Ä_H[PVU�^P[O��
[OL�[YH\TH[PJ�TVTLU[��WW����������;OL�WOLUVTLUVU�VM�JVUZ[YPJ[PVU�PZ�KLÄULK�I`�[OL�
¸U\TIPUN�YLZWVUZL�¹�VY�^OH[�/LYTHU�X\V[LZ�9VILY[�1H`�3PZ[VU�HZ�UHTPUN�H�¸WHYHS`ZPZ�VM�
the mind” (pp. 35-45).

CHOOSING A FRAME



COLUMBIA SOCIAL WORK REVIEW, VOL. XXI  |   91   

upon her. Medusa, in the aftermath of her trauma, is denied by Athena 
[OL�VWWVY[\UP[`�[V�]VPJL�HUK�KLÄUL�OLY�YHWL�VU�OLY�V^U�[LYTZ��0U�[OL�
absence of choice and connection, Medusa projects her trauma onto 
V[OLYZ!�^OLU�4LK\ZH�[\YUZ�OLY�^V\SK�IL�JVUX\LYVYZ�[V�Z[VUL��ZOL�
recreates a set of circumstances strikingly similar to her own. In one 
scene, Perseus displays Medusa’s head to freeze his foe, Nileus, in 
IH[[SL!

¸;V�OH]L�Z\JO�H�OLYV�HZ�TL�MVY�`V\Y�RPSSLY���T\Z[�Z\YLS`�JVUZVSL�`V\�
HTVUNZ[�[OL�]VPJLSLZZ�ZOHKLZ�¹�)\[���OPZ�ÄUHS���^VYKZ�^LYL�J\[�VɈ�
HZ�OL�ZHPK�[OLT��;V�Q\KNL�I`�OPZ�VWLU���SPWZ����`V\»K�Z\WWVZL�[OH[�
OL�^HU[LK�[V�ZWLHR��I\[�[OL�ZV\UKZ���JV\SKU»[�ÄUK�H�^H`�[OYV\NO��
�6]PK��������������W������

;OL�OLHK�VM�4LK\ZH�MYLLaLZ��Z[PɈLUZ��HUK�ZPSLUJLZ��7LYZL\Z�Z[VWZ�OPZ�
foe from speaking mid-sentence, demonstrating the power of Medusa’s 
gaze to take away others’ agency through the act of silencing. Deprived 
of having the chance to speak for herself, she prevents others from 
speaking, even post-mortem.

:JOVSHY�VM�MLTPUPZ[�UHYYH[P]L�[OLVY`�;LYLZH�+L�3H\YL[PZ��� ���������
explores subjecthood through the Medusa myth and posits that by 
inheriting the hero’s narrative from classical mythology, we restrict our 
^H`Z�VM�ZLLPUN�^VTHUOVVK��+L�3H\YL[PZ��� ���������[HRLZ�\W�:[LWOLU�
Heath’s assertion that seeing oneself through the other is a formula for 
Z\IQLJ[OVVK��4LK\ZH�PZ�W\YZ\LK�HZ�[OL�OVYYPÄJ�VIQLJ[�WHY�L_JLSSLUJL��
the thing to be slain. As men approach her, they hold a preconceived 
UV[PVU�VM�^OH[�[OL`�^PSS�ÄUK��;OL`�HYL�VU�LKNL��SVVRPUN�HYV\UK�L]LY`�
corner, expecting danger in their own state of hyperarousal. Hesiod 
�����������NVLZ�HZ�MHY�HZ�[V�KLZJYPIL�4LK\ZH�HZ�¸\UHWWYVHJOHISL¹�
(p.12). Upon noticing the presence of men, Medusa looks. She cannot 
ZLL�[OLZL�V[OLYZ�ZLLPUN�OLY��MVY�^OLU�ZOL�SVVRZ��ZOL�ÄUKZ�OLYZLSM�
looking at stone, no one there to greet her gaze. Heath states, “If 
the woman looks, the spectacle provokes, castration is in the air, the 
4LK\ZH»Z�OLHK�PZ�UV[�MHY�VɈ"�[O\Z��ZOL�T\Z[�UV[�SVVR��PZ�HIZVYILK�I`�

EZRA YURMAN-WHYDE



92  |  COLUMBIA SOCIAL WORK REVIEW, VOL. XXI 

OLYZLSM¯�¹��HZ�JP[LK�PU�+L�3H\YL[PZ��� ���������W���  ���

Attached so closely to her trauma, Medusa is denied a life in which 
she is able to contextualize her traumatic experience within a broader 
\UKLYZ[HUKPUN�VM�OLY�PKLU[P[ �̀�0UZ[LHK��ZOL�ILJVTLZ�KLÄULK�I`�OLY�
[YH\TH��JH\NO[�HUK�JVKPÄLK�PU�OLY�V^U�T`[O��0U�[OPZ�Z[H[L��ZOL�PZ�
Z[YPWWLK�VM�OLY�HNLUJ �̀�HSVUL��\UHISL�[V�L_WLYPLUJL�[OL�Z\IQLJ[PÄJH[PVU�
born from seeing another see her. In framing Medusa as the monster 
and the men who come to tame her as the heroes, we are enabling a 
practice of limited perception and perpetuating the narrative of Medusa 
as a monster. That is, we are preserving her isolation, framing her as 
V[OLY�HUK�HZ�[OL�VIQLJ[�VM�[YH\TH�WLYZVUPÄLK���

Medusa’s is the canonical gaze that turns others to stone; it is therefore 
the gaze that cannot seem to see itself. If Medusa were to look at 
herself, would she not turn to stone? Without the capacity to gaze upon 
OLYZLSM��ZOL�JHUUV[�VɈLY�OLYZLSM�H�SV]PUN�NHaL��JVU[LTWSH[L�OLY�V^U�
narrative, acknowledge her own fragility, or place herself within the 
context of the life she has lived. Without selfhood and the capacity to 
JVTT\UL�^P[O�OLY�^VYSK��4LK\ZH�PZ�H�ZLYPLZ�VM�ÅHZOIHJRZ��JH\NO[ULZZ�
incarnate, repeatedly reliving her trauma. 

Without the ability to see her whole self or to see herself through 
the eyes of another, Medusa is limited, if not completely inhibited, 
in her ability to gain self-awareness of her positionality in her world. 
Psychoanalyst Robert Bosnak (2007) writes of the necessity of narrative 
[V�JVU[L_[\HSPaL�HUK�H[[HJO�\Z�[V�V\Y�V^U�Z[VY`!�¸,UKSLZZ��Z[LYLV[`WLK��
Ä_LK�YLWL[P[PVU�PZ�[OL�L_JLW[PVU��HUK�Z\JO�[YH\TH�^PSS�UV[�YLH[[HJO�[V�
the Renaissance patchwork of states, but will remain a body drifting 
in space” (p. 46). The ability to weave one’s experiences into the 
patchwork that is their life story is paramount for integration and healing 
from trauma. 

)VZUHR��������KPɈLYLU[PH[LZ�UHYYH[P]L�TLTVY`�MYVT�[YH\TH[PJ�TLTVY �̀�
^OPJO�PZ�[OL�[PTLSLZZ��HOPZ[VYPJHS��LS\ZP]L��H[`WPJHS�ÅHZOIHJR�[OH[�[OL�
American Psychiatric Association (2013) names as a criterion in the 

CHOOSING A FRAME



COLUMBIA SOCIAL WORK REVIEW, VOL. XXI  |   93   

diagnosis of Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. He writes, “Flashback-type 
TLTVY`�PZ�JVTWSL[LS`�KPɈLYLU[�MYVT�[OL�KPZJ\YZP]L��UHYYH[P]L�TLTVY`�VM�
ordinary waking consciousness” (Bosnak, 2007, p. 46). He goes on to 
explain that the Greek word for revelation is apokalupsis (apocalypse). 
The earth-shattering revelation of meaning, Bosnak purports, is not 
MV\UK�PU�[OL�ÅHZOIHJR��0UZ[LHK��[OL�Z[HY[SL��[OL�\UJHUU �̀�HUK�[OL�[LYYVY�
ILSVUN�[V�[OL�YLHST�VM�[OL�[YH\TH[PJ!�[OL�YLHST�VM�4LK\ZH��/LYTHU�
(2015) takes up the notions of memory and time in her explication of the 
ZVTH[PJ�HZWLJ[Z�VM�[YH\TH��KLZJYPIPUN�[OL�X\HSP[`�VM�[YH\TH[PJ�TLTVYPLZ�
as “frozen” in time (p. 37). She goes on to describe the uncanny, 
H[LTWVYHS�X\HSP[PLZ�VM�YLLUHJ[TLU[Z��/LYTHU�Z[H[LZ�[OH[�YLLUHJ[TLU[Z�
have feelings of “involuntariness,” that they are “driven, tenacious” 
PU�JOHYHJ[LY��HUK�[OH[�[OL`�M\SÄSS�H�¸YLWL[P[PVU�JVTW\SZPVU¹�HUK�¸KLH[O�
instinct” (2015, p. 41). Medusa’s reenactments and embodied traits of 
O`WLYHYV\ZHS��JVUZ[YPJ[PVU��HUK�PU[Y\ZPVU�L_LTWSPM`�[OL�¸ÅHZOIHJR�[`WL¹�
memories that Bosnak (2007) describes as not integrative, because 
there exists in them no revelation of meaning (p. 46). The act of gazing 
upon oneself to know oneself does not occur, because we do not see 
V\YZLS]LZ�PU�H�ÅHZOIHJR"�^L�ZLL�^OH[�OHWWLULK�[V�\Z��0[�PZ�H�YLWL[P[P]L�
Z[\JRULZZ!�[OLYL�PZ�UV�NVPUN�MVY^HYK��UV�UL^�RUV^SLKNL��UV�TV\YUPUN�
or grieving—only a reliving of what was.

GLIMPSING HEALING THROUGH NARRATIVE 
REINTEGRATION 

A central complication of trauma is determining when something 
traumatic ceases to control the survivor and at what point the survivor 
is able to integrate their traumatic experience into the patchwork of their 
greater life experience. Symptoms of trauma look a lot like the healing of 
[YH\TH·\UJHUUPS`�ZV��/LYTHU��������WVZP[Z�[OL�ÄUHS�Z[HNL�VM�YLJV]LY`�
for trauma survivors as reconnection. Empowerment is the core 
experience of recovery, and this stage of reconnection is characterized 
by a readiness to incorporate the lessons of one’s traumatic experience 
into their life. The importance of agency and choice is highlighted 
in Herman’s work concerning the stages of recovery for survivors of 

EZRA YURMAN-WHYDE



94  |  COLUMBIA SOCIAL WORK REVIEW, VOL. XXI 

[YH\TH��ZWLJPÄJHSS`�¸[OL�JOVPJL�[V�L_WVZL�VULZLSM�[V�KHUNLY�¹�^OPJO��
she states, can be understood as “another reenactment of trauma” (p. 
197). The distinction between the stuckness of some reenactments and 
[OL�MYLLKVT�VM�[OPZ�ZVY[�PZ�[OL�]HYPHISL�VM�JOVPJL!�¸HU�H[[LTW[�[V�THZ[LY�
the traumatic experience” that is “undertaken consciously” (Herman, 
2015, p. 197). This conscious reenacting is a reclamation of one’s own 
SPML·YLJSHPTPUN�[OL�[YH\TH[PJ�HUK�YLKLÄUPUN�P[�VU�VUL»Z�V^U�[LYTZ·H�
WYVJLZZ�VM�ÄUKPUN�HS[LYUH[L�LUKPUNZ�[OH[�HYL�KPɈLYLU[�MYVT�[OL�[YH\TH[PJ�
TVTLU[�P[ZLSM��0[�PZ�HU�HZJYPW[PVU�VM�UL^�TLHUPUN�IL[^LLU�ZPNUPÄLY�HUK�
ZPNUPÄLK�

Particularly for clinical social work, a therapeutic narrative reclamation 
VɈLYZ�[OL�WH[PLU[�[OL�JOHUJL�[V�YLLU[LY�[OL�YVSL�VM�UHYYH[VY�VM�[OLPY�V^U�
life. The philosopher Adriana Cavarero (2000) establishes a methodology 
for narrative reclamation by illustrating how the act of silencing is the 
preluding act to one taking on the role of narrator, in which one must 
YLTHPU�X\PL[�MVY�[OL�V[OLY�[V�ZWLHR��VY�[OH[�VUL�T\Z[�ZPSLUJL�PU�VYKLY�[V�
IL�OLHYK��>P[O�[OPZ�WLYZWLJ[P]L��^L�TH`�X\LZ[PVU�[OL�PU]VS\U[HYPULZZ�VM�
Medusa’s repetition compulsions and cast them instead as intentional 
reenactments—attempts to regain her voice and narrative. 

0U�H[[LTW[PUN�[V�KLÄUL�[OL�Z\IQLJ[P]L�L_WLYPLUJL��[^V�JLU[YHS�X\LZ[PVUZ�
HYPZL!�¸who is speaking,” and “who is listening?” According to Cavarero, 
[OL�HJ[�VM�H\[VIPVNYHWO`�ZLY]LZ�[V�LTWV^LY�I`�VɈLYPUN�[OL�VWWVY[\UP[`�
for the narrator (self) to practice self-determination through the crafting 
of their own story. Cavarero (2000) writes, “[T]o tell one’s own story is 
to distance oneself from oneself, to double oneself, to make oneself an 
other” (p. 84). This means seeing oneself in one’s memory and using 
recollection as a “separated mirror” (Cavarero, 2000, p. 84). We gaze 
upon ourselves to know ourselves. It is the distance from ourselves that 
allows us the space to see with clear eyes, not in fragmented parts, 
but as a whole. It is through the practice of autobiography that we are 
VɈLYLK�[OL�VWWVY[\UP[`�[V�YL^YP[L�ILSPLMZ��HZJYPIL�UL^�TLHUPUNZ��ZLL�
ourselves without judgment, bear witness to our own fragility, and, in 
LɈLJ[��[V�SV]L�V\YZLS]LZ!

CHOOSING A FRAME



COLUMBIA SOCIAL WORK REVIEW, VOL. XXI  |   95   

(Z�[OL�ZH`PUN�NVLZ!�3V]L�PZ�ISPUK·UV[�ILJH\ZL�P[�[\YUZ�\WVU�
the invisible, but because it is without judgment with respect to 
that which others see. It experiences another type of gaze—a 
NHaL�[OH[�JVTLZ�MYVT�[OL�HNVUPaPUN�L_WLYPLUJL�VM�ÄUP[L�ILPUN»Z�
appearance, in its constitutive fragility. (Cavarero, 2000, p. 112)

*H]HYLYV�KLÄULZ�[OL�SV]PUN�NHaL�HZ�ZLLPUN�PU�ZWP[L�VM�VY�SVVRPUN�WHZ[�
judgment. There exists an intentionality to the loving gaze in choosing 
to see the other despite preconceived judgment. Medusa’s myth holds 
potential for this kind of seeing. Precisely as Herman (2015) describes 
healing from trauma, awareness of reenactments is essential to healing. 
Intentional reenactments, when repeated over and over again, are small 
steps toward re-working and re-wiring ourselves into subjects who, 
[OYV\NO�WYHJ[PJL�HUK�[PTL��JVTL�[V�HJX\PYL�H�JLY[HPU�JVTTHUK�V]LY�
our experience. We slowly and untidily become the narrators of our 
lives again. We can see the instance of the men’s stupor as the moment 
that the role of narrator and protagonist transfers to Medusa. Medusa’s 
intent to be seen and heard is what freezes the men. Medusa’s act of 
being seen, turning her enemies to stone, and silencing them gives her a 
chance to reclaim the role of narrator and heroine.

We see Medusa’s intentionality in the climax of her battle with her 
heroic counterpart. Perseus uses Medusa’s own gaze against her 
to freeze and decapitate her. But there must be time between these 
two moments, freezing and decapitating, because as art critic and 
[OLVYPZ[�*YHPN�6^LUZ�HZRZ��¸OV^�JHU�7LYZL\Z�J\[�VɈ�[OL�OLHK�VM�H�
Z[VUL�Z[H[\L&¹�6^LUZ��� ���������[VVR�\W�[OL�3HJHUPHU�JVUJLW[�VM�
suture�HUK�YLUHTLK�P[�[OL�¸4LK\ZH�LɈLJ[¹��W������!�[OL�WYVJLZZ�VM�
WZL\KV�PKLU[PÄJH[PVU�PU�^OPJO�[^V�[OPUNZ�HYL�ZLLU�HZ�VUL�I\[�HYL�PU�
MHJ[�ZLWHYH[L��P�L���[OLYL�PZ�H�KPɈLYLUJL�IL[^LLU�ZLLPUN�ZVTL[OPUN�HUK�
[OL�[OPUN�P[ZLSM���6^LUZ�PKLU[PÄLZ�[OL�TVTLU[�4LK\ZH�ZLLZ�OLYZLSM�
PU�[OL�YLÅLJ[PVU�VM�7LYZL\Z»Z�TPYYVYLK�ZOPLSK�HZ�LU[PYLS`�KPɈLYLU[�MYVT�
the moment when she turns herself to stone. If Medusa is not in fact 
[\YULK�[V�Z[VUL�\WVU�ZLLPUN�OLY�YLÅLJ[PVU�PU�7LYZL\Z»Z�ZOPLSK��ZOL�TH`�
have seen herself in the shields of her assailants all along. Through 

EZRA YURMAN-WHYDE



96  |  COLUMBIA SOCIAL WORK REVIEW, VOL. XXI 

this reading, Medusa is imbued with a freedom, an agency, and a 
satisfaction in seeing herself. If she can see herself, her capacity for 
inhabiting the role of narrator lives on. She owns her willingness to be 
seen.

ANOTHER KIND OF GAZE

;OL�4LK\ZH�LɈLJ[�HSSV^Z�[OL�YLHKLY�VM�[OL�T`[O�[V�NSPTWZL�
PU[LU[PVUHSP[`!�H�KLJPZPVU�PZ�THKL�^OLU�4LK\ZH�ZOV^Z�OLYZLSM��0M�[OL�HJ[�
VM�ZLLPUN�OLYZLSM�HUK�VM�ILPUN�ZLLU�HYL�ZLWHYH[L�MYVT�[OH[�X\PU[LZZLU[PHS�
TVTLU[�VM�Z[PɈLUPUN��[OLYL�L_PZ[Z�H�TVTLU[�VM�[PTL�MVY�H�KLJPZPVU�[V�IL�
made—a moment for Medusa to make “the choice to expose [her]self,” 
that is critical to her reentry into communing with the world (Herman, 
2015, p. 197). 

Medusa can be our heroine, pushing forward her own narrative. Gordon 
�������^YP[LZ�VM�4LK\ZH�HZ�[OL�¸ILH\[PM\S�ÄN\YL�B^OVD�JHU�VUS`�^VUKLY��
X\PaaPJHSS`¯^P[O�H�ZTPSL��H[�[OL�MY\Z[YH[LK�TLU�^OV�^V\SK�[\YU�OLY�
beautiful hair into snakes, and her into a monster” (p. 123). Medusa 
Z[\WLÄLZ�VUS`�^OLU�ZOL�HSSV^Z�OLYZLSM�[V�IL�ZLLU��7LYOHWZ��PU�SVVRPUN�
at her straight on, we glimpse Medusa looking at herself in a state of 
recollecting, as Cavarero (2000) suggests—distanced enough from 
herself, telling and retelling her own story. We glimpse a woman trying 
to put pieces together. Medusa is compelled by involuntary actions until 
[OL�Z\[\YL��VY�4LK\ZH�LɈLJ[��PZ�L_WVZLK�HUK�\UKVUL!�\U[PS�^L�ZOPM[�V\Y�
MYHTL�HUK�ZLL�OLY�^P[O�KPɈLYLU[�L`LZ��(UK�^OH[�VM�4LK\ZH�L_WLYPLUJPUN�
herself being seen through the eyes of another who is not afraid, not 
fetishizing her, but instead gazing upon her with “another kind of gaze,” 
gentle, without judgment, and intent on preserving her sense of choice 
(Cavarero, 2000, p. 112)? A tender gaze that said I’m here with you? 
What if Medusa could experience this communion with another? She 
might be “as the drop of rain in the sea” (Herman, 2015, p. 236). What 
potentiality would exist for her then? 

Commonality with other people carries with it all the meanings 
of the word common… It means having a feeling of familiarity, 

CHOOSING A FRAME



COLUMBIA SOCIAL WORK REVIEW, VOL. XXI  |   97   

of being known, of communion. It means taking part in the 
customary, the commonplace, the ordinary, and the everyday. 
(Herman, 2015, p. 236) 

Herman (2015) emphasizes the necessity for survivors of trauma 
to focus on the development of desire and initiative, as well as 
commonality, in the process of reintegration. Telling one’s story is itself 
an act of searching for common experience. Narrative is bridge-building, 
allowing one to escape the isolation of traumatic experience. There is 
WV[LU[PHS�MVY�ZVTLVUL�VJJ\W`PUN�[OL�WH[PLU[�YVSL�[V�ÄUK�OVWL�PU�[OLPY�
own choice to decide when, how, and for whom they become vulnerable 
or show themself after trauma. Herman (2015) posits that healing is 
H[�SLHZ[�PU�WHY[�K\L�[V�[OL�PUKP]PK\HS�Z�HIPSP[`�[V�HJX\PYL�H�T\S[P[\KL�VM�
experiences—some mundane—after a trauma, which serves to help 
YLJHSPIYH[L�VUL�Z�ZLUZL�VM�HU�HWWYVWYPH[L�Z[YLZZ�YLZWVUZL�[V�Z[PT\SP��

A clinical social worker who consciously or unconsciously emulates 
the decapitation of Medusa is one that promotes functioning in social 
and institutional systems founded on patriarchal power structures. The 
YHTPÄJH[PVUZ�VM�JVU[HPUPUN�[OL�\UJVU[HPUHISL�PU�OVWLZ�VM�WYVTV[PUN�
acceptable modes of functioning for systems that are designed to 
VWWYLZZ�Z[PÅL�ZLSM�KLÄUP[PVU�HUK�JOVPJL��0[�PZ�4LK\ZH»Z�PU[LYSVWLYZ��HUK�
by extension, viewers who adopt the hero’s narrative, who objectify and 
mitigate the anticipated horror they perceive in Medusa. It is Perseus’ 
success in avoiding the act of facing Medusa head-on that enables him 
[V�KLJHWP[H[L�OLY��;V�SVVR�OLHK�VU�PZ�ZVTL[OPUN�KPɈLYLU[��/V^�[OLU�JHU�
the clinical social worker approach Medusa with clear eyes and a loving 
gaze rather than with the impulse to contain and manage? 

Medusa’s myth suggests that instead of being tempted to soothe all 
wounds, to rescue, and to make the trauma go away, the clinical social 
^VYRLY�OHZ�H�K\[`�[V�ZLL�[OL�WH[PLU[�HZ�HɈLJ[LK�I`�[OLPY�[YH\TH�I\[�UV[�
KLÄULK�I`�P[��HZ�ZVTLVUL�^OVZL�HJ[PVUZ�TH`�[LZ[��TH`�W\ZO�H^H �̀�HUK�
may try to imbue those around them with feelings that are not their own. 
;OPZ�PZ�[OL�WH[PLU[�^VYRPUN�P[�V\[��ÄUKPUN�[OLPY�]VPJL��JHSPIYH[PUN��HUK�
learning to see themself and their world anew. As clinical social workers, 

EZRA YURMAN-WHYDE



98  |  COLUMBIA SOCIAL WORK REVIEW, VOL. XXI 

we are alongside our patients, attempting to always expose the Medusa 
LɈLJ[��JVU[PU\HSS`�TV]PUN�[V^HYK�[OL�ZWHJL�PU�IL[^LLU�[OL�^VYSK�
and our understanding of it. It is in this space that the most important 
aspects of trauma treatment—choice, awareness, and intention—are 
seen.

REFERENCES

American Psychiatric Association. (2013). Diagnostic and statistical manual of mental 
disorders (5th ed.). American Psychiatric Association.

Bosnak, R. (2007). Embodiment: Creative imagination in medicine, art and travel. Taylor 
and Francis.

Cavarero, A. (2000). Relating narratives: Storytelling and selfhood. Routledge.

De Lauretis, T. (2003). Desire in narrative. In M. Garber & N. J. Vickers (Eds.), The Medusa 
Reader (pp. 198–200). Routledge. (Original work published in 1984)

Freud, S. (2003a). Medusa’s head (J. Strachey, Trans.). In M. Garber & N. J. Vickers (Eds.), 
The Medusa Reader (pp. 84–86). Routledge. (Original work published in 1922)

Freud, S. (2003b). The uncanny (D. McLintock, Trans.). Penguin Books. (Original work 
published 1919)

.VYKVU��7����������4LK\ZH�YLJHWP[�\S�H[LK!�-YL\K��MLTHSL�NLUP[HSPH�HUK�[OL�¸J\U[�YV]LYZ`¹�
at CU. Psychoanalysis, Culture & Society, 19(2), 113–126. 

Haraway, D. J. (2016). Staying with the trouble: Making kin in the chthulucene. Duke 
University Press.

Herman, J. L. (2015). Trauma and recovery. Basicbooks.

Hesiod. (2003). The shield of Herakles (R. Lattimore, Trans.). In M. Garber & N. J. Vickers 
(Eds.), The Medusa Reader (pp. 11–12). Routledge. (Original work published c. 700 
BCE)

0ZZHJOHYVɈ��(���
�/\U[��>����  ����;YHUZMLYLUJL�HUK�WYVQLJ[P]L�PKLU[PÄJH[PVU� Contemporary 
Psychoanalysis, 30, 593-603. 

2VMTHU��:����������;OL�LUPNTH�VM�^VTLU!�>VTLU�PU�-YL\K»Z�^YP[PUNZ��*��7VY[LY��;YHUZ����0U�
M. Garber & N. J. Vickers (Eds.), The Medusa Reader (pp. 165–167). Routledge. (Original 
work published 1980)

Ovid. (2004). Metamorphoses (D. Raeburn, Trans.). Penguin Books. (Original work 
published c. 43 BCE - 17 CE)

CHOOSING A FRAME



COLUMBIA SOCIAL WORK REVIEW, VOL. XXI  |   99   

6^LUZ��*����������;OL�4LK\ZH�LɈLJ[�VY��[OL�ZWLJ[HJ\SHY�Y\ZL��0U�4��.HYILY�
�5��1��=PJRLYZ�
(Eds.), The Medusa Reader (pp. 203–209). Routledge. (Original work published 1984)

:PS]LYTHU��+����������¸4LK\ZH!�:L_\HSP[ �̀�WV^LY��THZ[LY �̀�HUK�ZVTL�WZ`JOVHUHS`[PJ�
observations.” Studies in Gender and Sexuality, 17 (2), 114–125.

EZRA YURMAN-WHYDE


