Demi Moore, Adrien Brody, Zoe Saldaña and the stars of “Shogun” and “Baby Reindeer” enjoy their moments of glory.

© Chantal Anderson for The New York Times

Following her story of the transformation of Hippomenes and Atalanta, Venus resumes the account of her affair with Adonis, whom she had warned of the dangers of lions and savage beasts.

John William Waterhouse’s The Awakening of Adonis was completed in 1899 but wasn’t shown to the public until the following year, when it was hung at the Royal Academy’s summer exhibition. One of a series of his works telling stories of classical myths, it received great critical praise. Although Waterhouse shows an early moment in Adonis’s affair with Venus, where she’s the active partner, he hints at the outcome with a small group of red anemone flowers by his side. Those contrast with the white anemones on much of the rest of the grass.

Annibale Carracci’s Venus and Adonis from about 1595, three centuries before Waterhouse’s painting, is a superb painting of Venus, her winged son Cupid, and Adonis. The latter has his bow in his left hand, and his hounds by his side, as if about to go hunting. Carracci shows Cupid with an arrow in his left hand, and there’s a small red wound between Venus’s breasts, implying this is the moment that she fell in love with Adonis.

Paolo Veronese shows a later moment in the relationship between Venus and Adonis (c 1580), with Adonis asleep on his lover’s lap, and Cupid fondling the hounds. You can hear Cupid’s mother whispering forcefully to her son, telling him to restrain the dog from rushing forward, licking the face of Adonis, and waking him up. Veronese, as with most later artists, dresses Adonis in red, symbolising the blood that will be shed when he dies.

Titian takes us further into Ovid’s story, in his earlier painting Venus and Adonis, from about 1555-60. With the young Cupid asleep, cradled in a tree, Adonis wants to go hunting. He has his spear in his right hand, and his hounds on leashes held in his left. But Venus is terrified of what will happen, restraining him and telling the story of Hippomenes and Atalanta.

Peter Paul Rubens skilfully reversed Titian’s composition in his Venus and Adonis from the early seventeenth century. Adonis is now trying to depart to the left with his back to the viewer, bringing the beauty of Venus into full view, and strengthening its triangular composition. It also provides a natural place for Cupid, holding onto Adonis’s leg to stop him from going to his death. Cupid’s quiver, left on the ground behind him, is a reminder of the origin of the relationship.

Once Venus had left in her chariot drawn by swans, Adonis flouted her warning, and took his hounds out to hunt wild boar. They quickly found the scent of one, at which Adonis threw his spear. The spear struck the boar a glancing blow, and it was able to shake the weapon loose. As the young man was running away in fear, the injured boar charged at him, and gored him deeply in his groin.

Adonis lay dying from his wounds on a patch of yellow sand as Venus passed by in her chariot, on her way to Cyprus. She heard his groans of agony, stopped, and found him almost dead in pools of his own blood. She tore her clothes in grief, beat her breast, and cursed the Fates. She resolved to make a permanent memorial to him in the form of the blood-red anemone flower, and his blood was transformed into those flowers.

The manner of Adonis’s fatal wounding is seen as poetic justice: those who live by the sword, die by the sword, and the retribution for his adulterous relationship with the goddess Venus, Vulcan’s wife, is to be gored in the groin. This was clearly no scene for the visual explicitness of a painting.

Hendrik Goltzius painted this breathtakingly foreshortened projection of the Dying Adonis (1609) on a square canvas stood on one corner, to frame the figure tightly. A token splash of blood on his thigh is matched by crimson anemone flowers, although Venus hasn’t yet arrived on the scene, and is at the apex, still in her chariot. Beside Adonis is his spear, although there’s no sign of blood on its tip.

In or just before 1614, Rubens made this oil sketch of Venus Mourning Adonis, a more complex composition with the addition of three Graces, and the young Cupid at the right.

Rubens’ finished Death of Adonis was completed in 1614, and retains the same composition. A rather portly Venus cradles her lover’s head as the Graces weep in grief with her. Rubens has been more generous with the young man’s blood, which is splashed around his crotch and spills out onto the ground, where the hounds are sniffing it. The fateful spear rests under Adonis’s legs.

I particularly like Cornelis Holsteyn’s Venus and Cupid Lamenting the Dead Adonis from 1647. Although he’s coy about showing much blood, his arrangement of Adonis’s body is novel, and his use of colour apt. Venus sheds real tears as she’s about to sweep her lover into her arms, and in the distance is the shadow of a wild boar with the hounds in chase.

Marcantonio Franceschini is one of the few artists to show The Metamorphosis of the Dead Adonis, in this painting from about 1700. Venus is sprinkling a jar of nectar over the corpse of her lover, and anemones are already bursting into bloom.

With that, Ovid closes book ten of his Metamorphoses.

From Nikki Glaser’s monologue and wins for “Emilia Pérez” and “The Brutalist,” it was downhill to all those pharmaceutical ads.

Debbie Kawam, as she was known in high school, was a cheerleader and a sunny presence. As the decades went on, she fell into an abyss.

Is reincarnation real? Is communication from the “beyond” possible? A small set of academics are trying to find out, case by case.

© Matt Eich for The New York Times

For years, Starbucks was the dominant coffee chain in China. Now rivals offering local flavors and cheaper prices are crushing the company’s bottom line in its second-largest market.

Ovid’s sequel to the story of Pygmalion’s marriage to his former statue is a darker tale of incest, transformation, and obstetrics in the arboretum, resulting in myrrh and the unique birth of Adonis.

Pygmalion’s great granddaughter Myrrha was cursed by the Fates and blighted in love. Although she had many suitors, she fell in love with her father, King Cinyras. Ovid relates her long soliloquy in which she wrestles with her own mind over this. When her father asked her what to do about her suitors, she first stayed silent, then burst into tears, eventually confessing that she wanted a husband like her father.

That night she lay awake in bed, her mind in turmoil, until resolving that her only solution was suicide. She tied a noose around a beam in her bedroom, and was just about to hang herself from it when her old nurse came in. Eventually, Myrrha confessed to her shameful desire, and her nurse promised to arrange the matter for her.

When the festival of Ceres came, Cenchreis, Myrrha’s mother, was busy with her duties, allowing the nurse to arrange Myrrha’s liaison with her father. The nurse ensured that Cinyras had plenty to drink, and promised him a night making love to a girl as young as his daughter. Later that night, the nurse took Myrrha to her father, and put her to bed with him, making her pregnant. Myrrha and her father continued to sleep together night after night, Cinyras still oblivious of who his partner really was. Eventually, he brought in a lamp so that he could see her, and was shocked to discover his own daughter.

He drew his sword to kill her, but she fled and wandered in the desert until it was time for her child to be born. Myrrha then called on the gods to help her, but wanted to neither live nor die. She was transformed into a myrrh tree, providing the precious resin myrrh from the sap generated from her tears of grief.

Adonis, the child who had been growing within her, was then delivered by Lucina, goddess of childbirth, and laid on soft leaves by the Naiads to be anointed with his mother’s myrrh.

This classical fresco from the Golden House of Nero in Rome shows Lucina presenting Venus, who stands clutching the top of a myrrh tree, with the newborn Adonis.

Possibly one of Titian’s earliest works, although this is disputed and even Giorgione has been credited, this cassone panel of The Birth of Adonis probably dates from 1505-10. At the left, Myrrha and her father Cinyras lie together, although this would of course make certain his knowledge of her identity. In the centre, a baby is delivered from the woody womb of Myrrha as a tree, in multiplex narrative.

At about the same time, Bernardino Luini painted his fresco account of The Birth of Adonis (1509-10), which also adopts multiplex narrative to explain the origin of Myrrha’s pregnancy. In the foreground, the couple are shown together, and at the top left the miraculous birth has just taken place. In an alternative reading, the couple in the foreground could be Adonis as a young man, with the goddess Venus as his lover.

Over a century later, this wonderful panel was painted, showing The Birth of Adonis and Transformation of Myrrha. This was possibly after Luigi Garzi, although again its origin remains disputed. Reference to Myrrha’s dark past has been concealed, and she is here shown as a chimera between woman and tree, with the infant Adonis just delivered by a whole team of midwives and maids. The helper at the right wears a coronet with the crescent moon on it, signifying the goddess Diana. On the left side of the tree, one of the other helpers is holding up a tray with a small container of myrrh to anoint Adonis. In the foreground, a wingless putto is laying out a napkin for the infant.

One artist painted this story repeatedly: Marcantonio Franceschini, a Baroque painter in the Italian city of Bologna.

This version of Franceschini’s The Birth of Adonis probably dates from around 1685-90, and is now in Dresden. Myrrha is a distinctive cross between tree and woman, and a couple of satyrs are laughing in the bushes behind her. Two young women are rather pointedly looking in amazement at the origin of Myrrha’s baby. In the centre, Adonis is being given by Diana, with her crescent moon, to Venus, who stars in his later life, and is already admiring his beauty.

Franceschini’s later version from around 1692-1709 is now in Vienna, and arranges a similar composition into vertical format. Here Diana is handing Adonis over to another goddess, possibly Venus, who is preparing to assume the role of wet-nurse. Behind them, the two women looking in amazement appear to be less anatomically engaged, and Pan and a satyr are providing some celebratory music. The napkin-bearing putto is here a winged Cupid.

Apart from a slightly later painting by Boucher, which I have been unable to illustrate here, those seem to have been the last paintings of this disturbing story of the origins of myrrh and Adonis, until recently.

Contemporary artist Rafael Metz’s The Transformation of Myrrh and the Birth of Adonis (2006) shows only the final part of the story, as the infant is being cradled by another woman, under the chimeric tree of Myrrha with its ornate and decorative branches. Myrrh resin is already exuding from the bark.

首先，你需要知道安装的PHP版本的完整包名。可以使用dpkg命令列出所有安装的包，然后找到PHP的版本。

dpkg -l | grep php

找到要卸载的PHP版本对应的包名后，使用apt-get remove命令进行卸载。例如，如果要卸载PHP 8.2，可以执行以下命令：

sudo apt-get remove php8.2*

如果你还想删除配置文件，可以使用apt-get purge命令：

sudo apt-get purge php8.2*

最后，运行autoremove来自动删除不再需要的依赖包：

sudo apt-get autoremove

温馨提示：确保在卸载PHP版本之前，不要影响到系统运行或其他服务依赖PHP的运作。如果你不确定，可以先进行测试卸载，通过添加–dry-run选项来模拟执行卸载命令：

sudo apt-get remove --dry-run php8.2*