===
Click here to start at the beginning.
===
I took her to art galleries and libraries. We stood looking at sculptures in the middle of a park. We walked through bohemian areas of town, and then took the bus out to the suburbs. We strolled along beside carefully mowed lawns, and watched children play-acting. We explored the less attractive parts of town, where women sold themselves to feed their children beneath giant graffiti murals. We walked that city till our feet ached, and then we sat at the top of a tall building and watched the lights come on.
We sat silent for a long time. Eventually, she sighed.
"OK, I give. What was the point of all of that?"
"You don't understand?"
She shook her head. "Unless it's something like the diversity of human life, and the fact that that diversity is only possible because of choice? Always assuming you're trying to make me feel better."
"You can take it that way."
"But it wasn't what you were going for?"
"Well, maybe, but it is more than that. You gave humans much more than just choice, Pandora. You gave them the ability to create."
She frowned.
"One follows from the other, you see. Look at that, out there. Those lights. This city, and all cities, are full of people finding ways to create. To make things from nothing. They tell stories. They make art. They grapple with science and find new ways of doing things. Prometheus gave them fire, but you gave them the ability to learn how to harness it properly. Without the choice, and without the obstacles you let loose, they wouldn't be able to do that."
"You're saying it was a good thing?"
"It's a bittersweet gift, to be sure. You showed them their mortality. By taking away fate as an excuse, you made them responsible for themselves, and for each other. Some of them hate you for that. It is a terrifying thing to know that life really is what you make of it. It scares them, because it means that they have to make something of it. There are many reactions to that. Some of them desperately accumulate wealth and power in an attempt to escape that mortality, and it results in injustices and imbalances. But others approach it as an opportunity to make something beautiful. You gave them that option."
She was intent on my face. I smiled.
"In many ways, you're the goddess of artists."
That made her laugh. "I've never thought of that. Without choice, without adversity, there would be no art."
"Not just art, Pandora. Their mortality makes them do things, feel things more intensely. Without it, there would be no love."
====
I left her there. walked away into that wild city, just another invisible bag lady. But there was a sense about her that was different - a sense of possibility.
Zeus will be mad when he hears about this, I thought. But it didn't matter too much. That story, and others like it, needed to be retold.
As I shuffled down an empty 3am street, lit by streetlights, I thought,with a smile, Maybe the world's about ready for a new 'Once upon a time'...
Sunday 8 June 2008
Monday 2 June 2008
Pandora's Gift (Part 7)
===
Click here to start at the beginning.
===
"And still you opened it?" I asked, surprised.
She looked askance at me. "He didn't only tell me what Zeus knew. He told me the rest too. And I think you know what I mean. I also think that's why you're here. Because you thought I didn't know."
"what did I think you didn't know?"
"That it was about choice. That box had all the evils of the world in it, yes. Disease, pestilence, plague, the works. And, of course, the infamous hope. But that's not all it had. It had choice. For mortals. Or, rather, the understanding that they have choice." She smiled wryly. "And all the accompanying drama."
"Ah." I smiled quietly. She'd gone part of the way. I just had to push her through the rest of it.
"So you deliberately gave them choice at the cost of everything else?"
She dropped her eyes to her now-cold coffee. "I have to admit, I have wondered sometimes if it was worth it. At the time, because of what Heph and I had talked about, it seemed like the right thing to do. It seemed that it was a worthwhile bargain. I had visions of people free of Zeus' tyranny, the tyranny of fate. People free to make their own lives. I thought..."
"You thought they'd thank you."
She nodded.
"But they didn't. Quite the opposite."
A tear fell.
"Still hurts you, doesn't it?"
She shrugged, dashed the tear away, and sat up straight.
"So maybe I chose wrong. At least I chose. They make some terrible decisions a lot of the time. But sometimes they get things right. And that's always beautiful to see. I do doubt my choice, but I don't regret having it, and sometimes that's enough."
I felt a pang of sympathy for this strong, broken girl. I stood.
"Come with me."
Click here to start at the beginning.
===
"And still you opened it?" I asked, surprised.
She looked askance at me. "He didn't only tell me what Zeus knew. He told me the rest too. And I think you know what I mean. I also think that's why you're here. Because you thought I didn't know."
"what did I think you didn't know?"
"That it was about choice. That box had all the evils of the world in it, yes. Disease, pestilence, plague, the works. And, of course, the infamous hope. But that's not all it had. It had choice. For mortals. Or, rather, the understanding that they have choice." She smiled wryly. "And all the accompanying drama."
"Ah." I smiled quietly. She'd gone part of the way. I just had to push her through the rest of it.
"So you deliberately gave them choice at the cost of everything else?"
She dropped her eyes to her now-cold coffee. "I have to admit, I have wondered sometimes if it was worth it. At the time, because of what Heph and I had talked about, it seemed like the right thing to do. It seemed that it was a worthwhile bargain. I had visions of people free of Zeus' tyranny, the tyranny of fate. People free to make their own lives. I thought..."
"You thought they'd thank you."
She nodded.
"But they didn't. Quite the opposite."
A tear fell.
"Still hurts you, doesn't it?"
She shrugged, dashed the tear away, and sat up straight.
"So maybe I chose wrong. At least I chose. They make some terrible decisions a lot of the time. But sometimes they get things right. And that's always beautiful to see. I do doubt my choice, but I don't regret having it, and sometimes that's enough."
I felt a pang of sympathy for this strong, broken girl. I stood.
"Come with me."
Friday 16 May 2008
Pandora's Gift (Part 6)
===
Click here to start at the beginning.
===
"I went at night," she said. "There were two reasons for that. One, I assumed, from what I'd heard about him, that Zeus was more likely to be preoccupied at night, so he'd be less likely to know what I was doing. And secondly, I didn't want to have to deal with that eagle."
She smiled grimly. "It was still pretty unpleasant, though. "
"Prometheus was, exactly as we'd heard, tied naked to a rock. It took me a very long time, and a lot of bribery, to find him, but I did. It wasn't a pleasant discovery. He was thin, his ribs sticking out of his skin in a way I had never encountered before. And he smelt. The smell was the horrific part. Suffice to say there wasn't a lot of cleaning going on. He was also, against all expectations, sleeping.
"I didn't want to touch him. He really was filthy. Fortunately, I had a staff I'd used to help me up the mountain, so I poked him with it gently, from a good metre away. He groaned. In that groan was clear all the pain and suffering he was undergoing, and I felt a pang of guilt disturbing him from the little rest he could get. But I knew he had the answers I needed, and so I poked him again, despite the pangs of conscience. This time he woke, and looked at me through bleary eyes. Against all expectation he knew who I was.
"'I suffer enough, rat,' he said, and closed his eyes. His voice was like sandpaper. Although I didn't know the description back then, it had a similar effect as nails on a chalkboard.
"'Please. I need your help.'
"He opened his eyes again.
"'My help? I have helped enough.'
"'I have water.' I had brought water as a purely compassionate move. I figured he'd be thirsty, tied to that rock. But now I realised I could use it as a bargaining tool if necessary.
"He grimaced. 'Do you seek to make it worse? I know what they made you for.'
"I sighed, unable to use the bargaining chip I'd just discovered I had, and walked over and dripped some water into his mouth, holding my breath against the smell, before moving away again hurriedly.
"'Ok. Listen to me. I also know what they made me for. To open your box. But I know I don't have to. I can choose. So, I am here to find out why they want me to open it. Or, more especially, why Zeus does. I have learnt a lot about him recently. He is not... what I thought he was. To be frank, I doubt his motives.'
"Prometheus chuckled rawly, and weakly motioned for me to continue with one bound hand.
"'I'm here because I want you tell me what's inside.'
"He was silent, in thought, for a long time. But eventually he told me."
Click here to start at the beginning.
===
"I went at night," she said. "There were two reasons for that. One, I assumed, from what I'd heard about him, that Zeus was more likely to be preoccupied at night, so he'd be less likely to know what I was doing. And secondly, I didn't want to have to deal with that eagle."
She smiled grimly. "It was still pretty unpleasant, though. "
"Prometheus was, exactly as we'd heard, tied naked to a rock. It took me a very long time, and a lot of bribery, to find him, but I did. It wasn't a pleasant discovery. He was thin, his ribs sticking out of his skin in a way I had never encountered before. And he smelt. The smell was the horrific part. Suffice to say there wasn't a lot of cleaning going on. He was also, against all expectations, sleeping.
"I didn't want to touch him. He really was filthy. Fortunately, I had a staff I'd used to help me up the mountain, so I poked him with it gently, from a good metre away. He groaned. In that groan was clear all the pain and suffering he was undergoing, and I felt a pang of guilt disturbing him from the little rest he could get. But I knew he had the answers I needed, and so I poked him again, despite the pangs of conscience. This time he woke, and looked at me through bleary eyes. Against all expectation he knew who I was.
"'I suffer enough, rat,' he said, and closed his eyes. His voice was like sandpaper. Although I didn't know the description back then, it had a similar effect as nails on a chalkboard.
"'Please. I need your help.'
"He opened his eyes again.
"'My help? I have helped enough.'
"'I have water.' I had brought water as a purely compassionate move. I figured he'd be thirsty, tied to that rock. But now I realised I could use it as a bargaining tool if necessary.
"He grimaced. 'Do you seek to make it worse? I know what they made you for.'
"I sighed, unable to use the bargaining chip I'd just discovered I had, and walked over and dripped some water into his mouth, holding my breath against the smell, before moving away again hurriedly.
"'Ok. Listen to me. I also know what they made me for. To open your box. But I know I don't have to. I can choose. So, I am here to find out why they want me to open it. Or, more especially, why Zeus does. I have learnt a lot about him recently. He is not... what I thought he was. To be frank, I doubt his motives.'
"Prometheus chuckled rawly, and weakly motioned for me to continue with one bound hand.
"'I'm here because I want you tell me what's inside.'
"He was silent, in thought, for a long time. But eventually he told me."
Thursday 15 May 2008
Pandora's Gift (Part 5)
===
Click here to start at the beginning.
===
"But you still opened it," I said.
She nodded. And changed the subject back again.
"But he understood. He knew how powerful it was. He knew that mortals having choice, free will, was necessary for us."
"You speak like you are one of them. Look what they've done with it!"
"Oh Athena! I know you're wise, but sometimes you're really dumb. They're flawed. Broken. They hurt and destroy and use their will for bad. Often. But they are also beautiful. And REAL in a way that you and I will never be. Because they have choice, and everything in their lives is affected by that."
"Sounds like you don't need me after all."
She grinned, a very unusual, room-lighting grin. "Hey, you came looking for me, remember." The grin faded, as fast as it had come. "I've had a lot of time to think about it."
"So... why'd you still open it, despite knowing that fate was nonsense?"
"That's what they always leave out of the story. They assume I didn't know what was in it."
===
She told me how she had started to wonder. After her conversation with Hephaestus, she knew that she could open it herself. But if Zeus had misled her about that, what else had he misled her about? So she left it for a day. And the day turned into a week. Which turned into two weeks.
Simply, she had started to wonder what was in it. And why it was so important to Zeus that it be opened. So she decided to find out before she opened it. So that she could better decide. She wanted to know, now that she knew she could decide, how to make the right choice.
She asked Epimetheus everything about it. Where it had come from. What he knew. But it seemed like all he knew about it was that his brother had given it to him for safe-keeping, and that he had told him in no uncertain terms that he must never allow it to be opened. Pandora began to realise that the one person who knew the answers was currently tied to a rock with an eagle eating his liver every day. Which was a bit of a problem. Nevertheless, she resolved to go and see him.
This part of the story was new to me. I had no idea that Pandora had ever spoken to Prometheus at all. And I certainly didn't know what he had told her.
Click here to start at the beginning.
===
"But you still opened it," I said.
She nodded. And changed the subject back again.
"But he understood. He knew how powerful it was. He knew that mortals having choice, free will, was necessary for us."
"You speak like you are one of them. Look what they've done with it!"
"Oh Athena! I know you're wise, but sometimes you're really dumb. They're flawed. Broken. They hurt and destroy and use their will for bad. Often. But they are also beautiful. And REAL in a way that you and I will never be. Because they have choice, and everything in their lives is affected by that."
"Sounds like you don't need me after all."
She grinned, a very unusual, room-lighting grin. "Hey, you came looking for me, remember." The grin faded, as fast as it had come. "I've had a lot of time to think about it."
"So... why'd you still open it, despite knowing that fate was nonsense?"
"That's what they always leave out of the story. They assume I didn't know what was in it."
===
She told me how she had started to wonder. After her conversation with Hephaestus, she knew that she could open it herself. But if Zeus had misled her about that, what else had he misled her about? So she left it for a day. And the day turned into a week. Which turned into two weeks.
Simply, she had started to wonder what was in it. And why it was so important to Zeus that it be opened. So she decided to find out before she opened it. So that she could better decide. She wanted to know, now that she knew she could decide, how to make the right choice.
She asked Epimetheus everything about it. Where it had come from. What he knew. But it seemed like all he knew about it was that his brother had given it to him for safe-keeping, and that he had told him in no uncertain terms that he must never allow it to be opened. Pandora began to realise that the one person who knew the answers was currently tied to a rock with an eagle eating his liver every day. Which was a bit of a problem. Nevertheless, she resolved to go and see him.
This part of the story was new to me. I had no idea that Pandora had ever spoken to Prometheus at all. And I certainly didn't know what he had told her.
Bad Bad Bel.
Yes, I know I have been veryvery bad about updating this. Things went crazy - a trip to Australia, two new jobs, and thesis panic. But I am trying hard to get everything back up and running again, and this comes first. So, very shortly after I post this I will be posting the next episode of Pandora. Many, many apologies for the ball dropping. :(
Friday 4 April 2008
Pandora's Gift (Part 4)
===
Click here to start at the beginning.
===
It had all gone fairly smoothly, and according to plan. Epimetheus was smitten. But, as much as Pandora wheedled and begged for him to let her peak into the box, it wasn't happening. Epimetheus was smitten, yes, but he wasn't stupid. Prometheus had told him not to open it, and that was good enough for him. No matter how Pandora fluttered her eyelashes, or sulked or pouted, he wasn't budging.
It was just as she was getting disheartened and frustrated, and ready to give up that Hephaestus went to see her. He found her sitting in the castle gardens, looking particularly downhearted and lost.
"Hi, lass," he said.
She grunted a pre-occupied greeting.
"You look down."
She sighed. "I can't do it, Heph. He's not going to give in. And..."
He sat down beside her. "This is me. What's worrying you?"
"I'm just..."
She glanced involuntarily at the sky.
Hephaestus chuckled, deep and rolling. "Don't worry. He's busy. There's a nymph in Crete he's gone to visit. He's not paying attention."
"It's just that... I am not sure it's right." She looked across at him, her brow knit. "I feel like... I mean I know it's fate and everything. It was all explained. But.. I don't... feel good about it." She threw up her hands in a gesture of frustration. "I can't explain."
"I know just what you mean."
"You do?"
He nodded. "But I can't explain it, either."
She raised an eyebrow (a habit which centuries would not overcome). "Can't, or won't?"
He sighed. "Not worth my job, kid. And, let's face it, no one else can do it." He smiled, trying to lighten the moment, but she wasn't having any of it.
"Heph. You... You're essentially my father. You owe it to me to help."
"Actually, I don't. But.. Look, it's something mortals have to figure out for themselves."
"But I'm not..."
"I know. Essentially you are not a mortal because you were never born. But you share their potentialities. Their possibilities. Even Zeus doesn't understand them all. But I do, because of... well, I guess because of the fire I made you from. So, in character, you are mortal enough."
"So... there is some potential I'm not using. Something which would enable me to get Epimetheus to open that blasted box?"
"Well, to get it open anyway. But it's more than just that."
"You're speaking in riddles, and I hate it. You gods! It's always these double meanings and roundabout ways of getting to things. After all, if Zeus wants the box open, why doesn't he just open it?"
"Why, indeed?"
she stopped suddenly. Looked at him with wide eyes. "He can't!"
Hephaestus said nothing.
"Am I right? He can't open it. I guess it has to be a mortal who opens it. That's why Epimetheus has to. That's why I can't just..."
She stopped as another wave of understanding hit her.
"But... I might be able to. You just said I was mortal in character. I've never tried because I was told to get him to do it. But why can't I just open it? I could stop manipulating Epimetheus, because believe me, I don't enjoy that. It would solve the problem, wouldn't it? The box would be open, Zeus would be pleased. No foul? Right?"
She paused as she noticed the look on his face. He was smiling, but something in his smile scared her. He looked so sad.
"What is it?"
"Well. Nothing you've said is wrong."
"But, you don't look happy. I thought you wanted it open? I thought it was a good thing."
"Why do you want it open, Pandora?"
"Well, because it's meant to be. I mean, Zeus said..."
Hephaestus snorted.
"What? He said it was part of the plan. That it needed to be opened, and I was to get Epimetheus to open it."
"That's it? Because Zeus says so?"
"Well, he is kinda the boss. Surely he knows what he's doing? And isn't it all fated anyway?"
"Firstly, it's quite an assumption to think he knows what he's doing. And secondly, if it's all so fated, why does he need you?"
As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he clamped a hand over it convulsively. "I mean... um..."
But it was too late. Pandora's eyes were wide with understanding. When she spoke her voice had changed. It sounded less like a frustrated girl, and more like the strong, smart woman he had created.
"It isn't, is it? Fated. We have..."
There wasn't even a word for it back then in the mortal world. Fate was the-way-it-is. Hephaestus, figuring he'd done the damage with the concept already, gave her the word.
"Choice."
Click here to start at the beginning.
===
It had all gone fairly smoothly, and according to plan. Epimetheus was smitten. But, as much as Pandora wheedled and begged for him to let her peak into the box, it wasn't happening. Epimetheus was smitten, yes, but he wasn't stupid. Prometheus had told him not to open it, and that was good enough for him. No matter how Pandora fluttered her eyelashes, or sulked or pouted, he wasn't budging.
It was just as she was getting disheartened and frustrated, and ready to give up that Hephaestus went to see her. He found her sitting in the castle gardens, looking particularly downhearted and lost.
"Hi, lass," he said.
She grunted a pre-occupied greeting.
"You look down."
She sighed. "I can't do it, Heph. He's not going to give in. And..."
He sat down beside her. "This is me. What's worrying you?"
"I'm just..."
She glanced involuntarily at the sky.
Hephaestus chuckled, deep and rolling. "Don't worry. He's busy. There's a nymph in Crete he's gone to visit. He's not paying attention."
"It's just that... I am not sure it's right." She looked across at him, her brow knit. "I feel like... I mean I know it's fate and everything. It was all explained. But.. I don't... feel good about it." She threw up her hands in a gesture of frustration. "I can't explain."
"I know just what you mean."
"You do?"
He nodded. "But I can't explain it, either."
She raised an eyebrow (a habit which centuries would not overcome). "Can't, or won't?"
He sighed. "Not worth my job, kid. And, let's face it, no one else can do it." He smiled, trying to lighten the moment, but she wasn't having any of it.
"Heph. You... You're essentially my father. You owe it to me to help."
"Actually, I don't. But.. Look, it's something mortals have to figure out for themselves."
"But I'm not..."
"I know. Essentially you are not a mortal because you were never born. But you share their potentialities. Their possibilities. Even Zeus doesn't understand them all. But I do, because of... well, I guess because of the fire I made you from. So, in character, you are mortal enough."
"So... there is some potential I'm not using. Something which would enable me to get Epimetheus to open that blasted box?"
"Well, to get it open anyway. But it's more than just that."
"You're speaking in riddles, and I hate it. You gods! It's always these double meanings and roundabout ways of getting to things. After all, if Zeus wants the box open, why doesn't he just open it?"
"Why, indeed?"
she stopped suddenly. Looked at him with wide eyes. "He can't!"
Hephaestus said nothing.
"Am I right? He can't open it. I guess it has to be a mortal who opens it. That's why Epimetheus has to. That's why I can't just..."
She stopped as another wave of understanding hit her.
"But... I might be able to. You just said I was mortal in character. I've never tried because I was told to get him to do it. But why can't I just open it? I could stop manipulating Epimetheus, because believe me, I don't enjoy that. It would solve the problem, wouldn't it? The box would be open, Zeus would be pleased. No foul? Right?"
She paused as she noticed the look on his face. He was smiling, but something in his smile scared her. He looked so sad.
"What is it?"
"Well. Nothing you've said is wrong."
"But, you don't look happy. I thought you wanted it open? I thought it was a good thing."
"Why do you want it open, Pandora?"
"Well, because it's meant to be. I mean, Zeus said..."
Hephaestus snorted.
"What? He said it was part of the plan. That it needed to be opened, and I was to get Epimetheus to open it."
"That's it? Because Zeus says so?"
"Well, he is kinda the boss. Surely he knows what he's doing? And isn't it all fated anyway?"
"Firstly, it's quite an assumption to think he knows what he's doing. And secondly, if it's all so fated, why does he need you?"
As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he clamped a hand over it convulsively. "I mean... um..."
But it was too late. Pandora's eyes were wide with understanding. When she spoke her voice had changed. It sounded less like a frustrated girl, and more like the strong, smart woman he had created.
"It isn't, is it? Fated. We have..."
There wasn't even a word for it back then in the mortal world. Fate was the-way-it-is. Hephaestus, figuring he'd done the damage with the concept already, gave her the word.
"Choice."
Thursday 3 April 2008
Pandora's Gift (Part 3)
===
Click here to start at the beginning.
===
"Can I ask you something?"
"You can ask."
"Did you love him?"
She spluttered on her coffee. We were sitting in a small, rather sleazy looking cafe next to the docks where I'd found her. An overweight man in a wife-beater who looked like he'd stepped out of a stereotype had leered at her when she ordered for about half a second, until she'd given him a look that shut him up and sent him bustling to meet her every demand. He probably didn't know himself what it was about this girl that had him wanting to keep her happy. I was amused to see she wasn't above using the gifts we'd given to get her way.
"Love him?" She played with her unused sugar packets absently. "I don't know."
I waited.
"I don't think so. I couldn't have, right? I mean, in the end, I..."
She trailed off, frowning into her coffee.
"In the end you betrayed him."
She looked up, hurt and a little shocked. "I didn't mean..."
"That's what you were thinking though, wasn't it?"
She frowned slightly. "I just meant that I didn't have any choice. Back then. You need choice for love, don't you?"
I laughed. "Most mortals would disagree with you there."
"That's because they don't understand what not having choice is really like." A pause. Her voice almost inaudible, "But Hephaestus did."
Click here to start at the beginning.
===
"Can I ask you something?"
"You can ask."
"Did you love him?"
She spluttered on her coffee. We were sitting in a small, rather sleazy looking cafe next to the docks where I'd found her. An overweight man in a wife-beater who looked like he'd stepped out of a stereotype had leered at her when she ordered for about half a second, until she'd given him a look that shut him up and sent him bustling to meet her every demand. He probably didn't know himself what it was about this girl that had him wanting to keep her happy. I was amused to see she wasn't above using the gifts we'd given to get her way.
"Love him?" She played with her unused sugar packets absently. "I don't know."
I waited.
"I don't think so. I couldn't have, right? I mean, in the end, I..."
She trailed off, frowning into her coffee.
"In the end you betrayed him."
She looked up, hurt and a little shocked. "I didn't mean..."
"That's what you were thinking though, wasn't it?"
She frowned slightly. "I just meant that I didn't have any choice. Back then. You need choice for love, don't you?"
I laughed. "Most mortals would disagree with you there."
"That's because they don't understand what not having choice is really like." A pause. Her voice almost inaudible, "But Hephaestus did."
Wednesday 2 April 2008
Poetic Interlude 2
In honour of my second sponsor. :)
(No, it's not meant to be you. I just tried to write something I thought you'd like.)
Jack of many hats.
He dances, merrily
flitting through trees
(streetlights?).
He hums
a toe-tapping
finger-snapping
mind-wrapping
tune,
quiet, insiduous.
He darts,
dash of colour,
flash of red diamond
blue diamond
green diamond.
Cane twirling,
Tails whirling,
Mist swirling.
He is story.
And myth.
And magic.
And laughter.
Trickster-god.
Player-man.
Grinning flash of teeth,
and he's gone.
Leaving a hint of song,
ideas floating,
story snippets,
waiting to be caught.
(No, it's not meant to be you. I just tried to write something I thought you'd like.)
Jack of many hats.
He dances, merrily
flitting through trees
(streetlights?).
He hums
a toe-tapping
finger-snapping
mind-wrapping
tune,
quiet, insiduous.
He darts,
dash of colour,
flash of red diamond
blue diamond
green diamond.
Cane twirling,
Tails whirling,
Mist swirling.
He is story.
And myth.
And magic.
And laughter.
Trickster-god.
Player-man.
Grinning flash of teeth,
and he's gone.
Leaving a hint of song,
ideas floating,
story snippets,
waiting to be caught.
Pandora's Gift (Part 2)
===
Click here to start at the beginning.
===
In the stories they paint her as a wilful, bored wife. Or worse, an evil, deceitful woman: the progenitor of all the banes of mankind. Given to man as a gift with a sting by Zeus. Pandora. The first female. They tell her in whiny tones. "But I wanna seeeee."
It wasn't like that.
The gist is right. Hephaestus, at Zeus' command, designed her to open that box. He used her to trap them. Turned their betrayal to folly. But he designed her wrong. Sure, the result was essentially the same. But he had never expected her to have a will. A mind. And the ability to use it.
He certainly hadn't expected to like her so much.
When she appeared at his castle, Epimetheus was enthralled. Pandora was beautiful. She was, after all, designed that way. Beautiful and witty and completely engaging. She had been given gifts by several of the deities. Aphrodite had given her beauty, not to mention other skills. Artemis had gifted her with endurance. Apollo had sungs songs into her ears, gifting her with music. I, in absence of wisdom, which comes only with experience, gifted her with a quick mind and the urge to learn. But it was her designer, Hephaestus who ultimately gave her the greatest gift. Only that was where all the trouble started.
When she walked up those stairs towards Epimetheus, and looked into his eyes as she bowed, submissive, and yet completely in control, announced herself his by Zeus' command, something in him broke. He wasn't stupid. Again, the legends paint him stupid. He wasn't. He knew she was a trap. He had heeded his brother's warnings and he knew that if Zeus had sent her, there was a catch. But looking into those smiling green eyes, he didn't care. Hephaestus had done his job well. Pandora was irresistable.
What people never bother to ask, is what she was thinking. She was formed, not born. She was given gifts by the gods to make her a more efficient trap. But Hephaestus loved her, like a father does. Which was what eventually led to him doing what he did. When she arrived there, she knew her task. She knew she was required to make Epimetheus open that box. She didn't know what was in it, and because she was new, she hadn't yet learned about Zeus' malicious angry streak, so it didn't occur to her to ask. She didn't yet know how vindictive he could be. Or how short-sighted.
I don't know why she did what she did. That was part of why I was here now. To find out her side of the story. And explain a little why we had all helped in the ways we did. Even the Goddess of Wisdom who, perhaps, should have known better.
Click here to start at the beginning.
===
In the stories they paint her as a wilful, bored wife. Or worse, an evil, deceitful woman: the progenitor of all the banes of mankind. Given to man as a gift with a sting by Zeus. Pandora. The first female. They tell her in whiny tones. "But I wanna seeeee."
It wasn't like that.
The gist is right. Hephaestus, at Zeus' command, designed her to open that box. He used her to trap them. Turned their betrayal to folly. But he designed her wrong. Sure, the result was essentially the same. But he had never expected her to have a will. A mind. And the ability to use it.
He certainly hadn't expected to like her so much.
When she appeared at his castle, Epimetheus was enthralled. Pandora was beautiful. She was, after all, designed that way. Beautiful and witty and completely engaging. She had been given gifts by several of the deities. Aphrodite had given her beauty, not to mention other skills. Artemis had gifted her with endurance. Apollo had sungs songs into her ears, gifting her with music. I, in absence of wisdom, which comes only with experience, gifted her with a quick mind and the urge to learn. But it was her designer, Hephaestus who ultimately gave her the greatest gift. Only that was where all the trouble started.
When she walked up those stairs towards Epimetheus, and looked into his eyes as she bowed, submissive, and yet completely in control, announced herself his by Zeus' command, something in him broke. He wasn't stupid. Again, the legends paint him stupid. He wasn't. He knew she was a trap. He had heeded his brother's warnings and he knew that if Zeus had sent her, there was a catch. But looking into those smiling green eyes, he didn't care. Hephaestus had done his job well. Pandora was irresistable.
What people never bother to ask, is what she was thinking. She was formed, not born. She was given gifts by the gods to make her a more efficient trap. But Hephaestus loved her, like a father does. Which was what eventually led to him doing what he did. When she arrived there, she knew her task. She knew she was required to make Epimetheus open that box. She didn't know what was in it, and because she was new, she hadn't yet learned about Zeus' malicious angry streak, so it didn't occur to her to ask. She didn't yet know how vindictive he could be. Or how short-sighted.
I don't know why she did what she did. That was part of why I was here now. To find out her side of the story. And explain a little why we had all helped in the ways we did. Even the Goddess of Wisdom who, perhaps, should have known better.
Monday 31 March 2008
Pandora's Gift (Part 1)
"I thought I might find you here."
The girl turned, suspicious. I smiled, trying to waylay her fears, but she didn't relax at all. I sighed, inwardly. This may not be as easy as I'd hoped.
She looked younger than I knew she was, looked no more than in her mid 20s. Dyed black hair pulled back in a clip, clumsily. A Sandman t-shirt and jeans. An old scuffed pair of doc martins.
"Well, you look the part, anyway," I said.
She raised an eyebrow. "What part is that?"
I ignored her question, and took a seat next to her on the dock. She had been looking out over the harbour, something I had learnt she did often these days. Our grapevine is extensive; if you really want to find one of us, you pretty much always can. Eventually. She had taken me a while though.
She was still looking at me, bemused. Her emerald eyes betrayed her age. Her real age, that is. I wondered how any human could look at her, and not feel the anger and guilt that hid behind them
"I've been looking for you."
She sighed. "OK. I'll play. Which one are you? You can't be Aphrodite, cos she's always... well.. pretty. I'm pretty sure you're not Artemis. You'd have found me faster. So, I ask myself. Which God goes in the guise of a bag lady?"
I chuckled. "The one who is most seldom recognised. And found in strange places. The one that would come to Pandora to help her 'learn her place'."
That eyebrow raise again.
"'Wisdom arises in the unexpected'."
"Ah." She looked out over the water again. "Tough gig."
"Do you think?"
"Not so much space for you in this day and age."
"There never was, dear. But I am not here for the mortals today."
"You're going to teach me my place. I got it. Curiousity killed the cat. Women can't be trusted. Believe me, I got the memo. Loud. And. Clear."
"But you didn't. And neither did many of the mortals who tell your story."
She mumbled something under her breath.
"What was that?"
She looked straight into my eyes.
"I said, They never get it right, anyway."
**Thus begins the second story of my little Greek Myth project. I hope you enjoy this one as much as many of you seemed to have enjoyed the last. I have decided, for now, to keep things simple. For each donation I recieve, I will post a poem dedicated to the sponsor (it will be person appropriate depending on how well I know the person). Also, all sponsors are able to suggest a myth they'd like to see me write about, if they want to. (To the one person who has sponsored already: feel free to do this whenever and if you wish.) Also, I present an option to sponsors that I will place a links bar on the sidebar of this blog with your name (if you want), and a link to your (or any other you wish) website. Again, to the person who sponsored last week, let me know if you want to use this. Otherwise, I have started the third story, and am well into it. But for now, enjoy Pandora. :) **
The girl turned, suspicious. I smiled, trying to waylay her fears, but she didn't relax at all. I sighed, inwardly. This may not be as easy as I'd hoped.
She looked younger than I knew she was, looked no more than in her mid 20s. Dyed black hair pulled back in a clip, clumsily. A Sandman t-shirt and jeans. An old scuffed pair of doc martins.
"Well, you look the part, anyway," I said.
She raised an eyebrow. "What part is that?"
I ignored her question, and took a seat next to her on the dock. She had been looking out over the harbour, something I had learnt she did often these days. Our grapevine is extensive; if you really want to find one of us, you pretty much always can. Eventually. She had taken me a while though.
She was still looking at me, bemused. Her emerald eyes betrayed her age. Her real age, that is. I wondered how any human could look at her, and not feel the anger and guilt that hid behind them
"I've been looking for you."
She sighed. "OK. I'll play. Which one are you? You can't be Aphrodite, cos she's always... well.. pretty. I'm pretty sure you're not Artemis. You'd have found me faster. So, I ask myself. Which God goes in the guise of a bag lady?"
I chuckled. "The one who is most seldom recognised. And found in strange places. The one that would come to Pandora to help her 'learn her place'."
That eyebrow raise again.
"'Wisdom arises in the unexpected'."
"Ah." She looked out over the water again. "Tough gig."
"Do you think?"
"Not so much space for you in this day and age."
"There never was, dear. But I am not here for the mortals today."
"You're going to teach me my place. I got it. Curiousity killed the cat. Women can't be trusted. Believe me, I got the memo. Loud. And. Clear."
"But you didn't. And neither did many of the mortals who tell your story."
She mumbled something under her breath.
"What was that?"
She looked straight into my eyes.
"I said, They never get it right, anyway."
**Thus begins the second story of my little Greek Myth project. I hope you enjoy this one as much as many of you seemed to have enjoyed the last. I have decided, for now, to keep things simple. For each donation I recieve, I will post a poem dedicated to the sponsor (it will be person appropriate depending on how well I know the person). Also, all sponsors are able to suggest a myth they'd like to see me write about, if they want to. (To the one person who has sponsored already: feel free to do this whenever and if you wish.) Also, I present an option to sponsors that I will place a links bar on the sidebar of this blog with your name (if you want), and a link to your (or any other you wish) website. Again, to the person who sponsored last week, let me know if you want to use this. Otherwise, I have started the third story, and am well into it. But for now, enjoy Pandora. :) **
Thursday 27 March 2008
Poetic Interlude 1
In honour of my first sponsor (Thank you! I hope you like it, since you inspired it!):
Pond.
I remember coolness,
the comfort of wet.
Days spent sitting leaf-bound,
musing,
the taste of flies.
The taste of flies being delicious.
Calm. Long sun-drenched afternoons.
Swimming, easy and languid.
Simplicity. This is why I am.
To swim.
To sing.
To leap, spreadeagled against the sky.
To rejoice in rainfall.
Then, a flash of gold, and a favour.
And the awareness of desire.
The encroachment of awareness.
The pang of encroachment.
I don't tell him,
for the sound of the breaking iron,
for the long years of waiting,
for the faithfulness.
I don't tell her,
for the smiling kisses,
for the shining eyes,
for the loving touch.
How I miss the calm,
the cool,
the wet.
Pond.
I remember coolness,
the comfort of wet.
Days spent sitting leaf-bound,
musing,
the taste of flies.
The taste of flies being delicious.
Calm. Long sun-drenched afternoons.
Swimming, easy and languid.
Simplicity. This is why I am.
To swim.
To sing.
To leap, spreadeagled against the sky.
To rejoice in rainfall.
Then, a flash of gold, and a favour.
And the awareness of desire.
The encroachment of awareness.
The pang of encroachment.
I don't tell him,
for the sound of the breaking iron,
for the long years of waiting,
for the faithfulness.
I don't tell her,
for the smiling kisses,
for the shining eyes,
for the loving touch.
How I miss the calm,
the cool,
the wet.
Metapost
Hi there faithful readers. ;)
As you know, if you read the very first post, this blog is something of an experiment in cyber-funded creativity. Me trying to see if I can make some kind of money out of putting my stories out in the world. If you are reading this, you get to be my experimental audience, on whom I try to see if I can make this work.
Several of you have helped enormously already by getting the word out. You've linked to me on your own blogs. I believe some of you have been plugging me on facebook. And I thank you for spreading the word, because without readers this will never work. Those of you who came here via one of those people, yay! Thanks for coming! Please feel very free to tell your friends. *grin*
However, Belgatherial's Hearth has been in existence for over two weeks now, and I have yet to make a cent on donations. I have had a fair number of "wow, this is awesome"s (even from complete strangers! (Hi, thanks for popping round. Please keep coming back - oh, and tell all your friends. ;P)), which suggest that the writing is pretty decent, and I am getting more hits than I thought I would, so people are reading, they just aren't donating. So, I have been toying with a number of ideas for trying to encourage the donation thing to happen.
So, if you were on the verge of donating, which of these things would push you over to pressing the button? This is a purely hypothetical, and there are no obligations at all. I'm just looking for a little feedback. :)
Some of the things I have thought of doing:
* Not starting the second story until I get a certain amount in donations. Yay! Bribery. Of course the evil side effect is no-one ever donates and the whole project slides into disuse.... Which would suck, since the next story is ready and waiting to go. Of course, I do have various odds and ends I could throw your way until we hit the target, and I would make it a fairly managable target. How about NZ$50? What if I posted something tid-bitty, like a poem, or flash fic, each time anyone donates anything, even $1, and once we hit $50, I'll start on Pandora?
* Offering some kind of perk for donors. I'm not entirely sure what though - any suggestions? One of the things I thought of is a bonus epilogue. I'd write an epilogue to Eternity Touch which only donors get.
* Offering some kind of extra. Like printing and binding each story all pretty like at the end and sending it by mail to those who want it. Problem is, this would be pretty expensive to do, since I'd inevitably be sending internationally, and would have to charge accordingly. I am fairly crafty though, so I could make it look really good. If there's any interest I'll do some actual research into how much it would cost to do and send. Would any of you be interested in something like that, and if so, how much would you be willing to pay for it?
* Other forms of donation? (I'm really unsure this would work at all, but it crossed my mind, so I'll put it here). I have a wishlist for the books I need and want to write my thesis. Allowing people to donate by sending a book instead? The thing about this is it would probably be more expensive than if they just donated, and they clearly aren't doing that, so I dunno.
* Allowing donors to pick the next myth with which I deal. If you donate, you are able to tell me what to write about. Pick a myth for the next story I do (On a first come, first served basis). Multiple sponsors for the same myth would get equal bragging rights. ;)
* Creating a Donors' Link section on the sidebar, where I would acknowledge your contribution, and link to whatever website you choose. (Your own, or something you wish to support)
* For those of you on LJ, 'Song suggested it may help to be on LJ. In other words, as of the next story, I would double post to there as well, so you wouldn't have to follow a link, the story would just pop up on your friendslist.
So. Which of these do you, as the readers, think would be most effective?
As you know, if you read the very first post, this blog is something of an experiment in cyber-funded creativity. Me trying to see if I can make some kind of money out of putting my stories out in the world. If you are reading this, you get to be my experimental audience, on whom I try to see if I can make this work.
Several of you have helped enormously already by getting the word out. You've linked to me on your own blogs. I believe some of you have been plugging me on facebook. And I thank you for spreading the word, because without readers this will never work. Those of you who came here via one of those people, yay! Thanks for coming! Please feel very free to tell your friends. *grin*
However, Belgatherial's Hearth has been in existence for over two weeks now, and I have yet to make a cent on donations. I have had a fair number of "wow, this is awesome"s (even from complete strangers! (Hi, thanks for popping round. Please keep coming back - oh, and tell all your friends. ;P)), which suggest that the writing is pretty decent, and I am getting more hits than I thought I would, so people are reading, they just aren't donating. So, I have been toying with a number of ideas for trying to encourage the donation thing to happen.
So, if you were on the verge of donating, which of these things would push you over to pressing the button? This is a purely hypothetical, and there are no obligations at all. I'm just looking for a little feedback. :)
Some of the things I have thought of doing:
* Not starting the second story until I get a certain amount in donations. Yay! Bribery. Of course the evil side effect is no-one ever donates and the whole project slides into disuse.... Which would suck, since the next story is ready and waiting to go. Of course, I do have various odds and ends I could throw your way until we hit the target, and I would make it a fairly managable target. How about NZ$50? What if I posted something tid-bitty, like a poem, or flash fic, each time anyone donates anything, even $1, and once we hit $50, I'll start on Pandora?
* Offering some kind of perk for donors. I'm not entirely sure what though - any suggestions? One of the things I thought of is a bonus epilogue. I'd write an epilogue to Eternity Touch which only donors get.
* Offering some kind of extra. Like printing and binding each story all pretty like at the end and sending it by mail to those who want it. Problem is, this would be pretty expensive to do, since I'd inevitably be sending internationally, and would have to charge accordingly. I am fairly crafty though, so I could make it look really good. If there's any interest I'll do some actual research into how much it would cost to do and send. Would any of you be interested in something like that, and if so, how much would you be willing to pay for it?
* Other forms of donation? (I'm really unsure this would work at all, but it crossed my mind, so I'll put it here). I have a wishlist for the books I need and want to write my thesis. Allowing people to donate by sending a book instead? The thing about this is it would probably be more expensive than if they just donated, and they clearly aren't doing that, so I dunno.
* Allowing donors to pick the next myth with which I deal. If you donate, you are able to tell me what to write about. Pick a myth for the next story I do (On a first come, first served basis). Multiple sponsors for the same myth would get equal bragging rights. ;)
* Creating a Donors' Link section on the sidebar, where I would acknowledge your contribution, and link to whatever website you choose. (Your own, or something you wish to support)
* For those of you on LJ, 'Song suggested it may help to be on LJ. In other words, as of the next story, I would double post to there as well, so you wouldn't have to follow a link, the story would just pop up on your friendslist.
So. Which of these do you, as the readers, think would be most effective?
Wednesday 26 March 2008
Eternity Touch (Part 12)
===
Click here to start at the beginning.
===
I was terrified. The four of us in a bare room. A table and four chairs. She stood, shaky, but calm, as one who has made a decision after much time. I had no idea what she would say. I had spent the last six months playing it out in my mind, trying to guess her decision. I would think that she would pick the world, but then I would think of the hold Hades had over her, and would immediately second guess myself, and in the end be forced to admit that I quite simply could not predict my daughter.
"Persephone." Zeus used that name as if it were a title.
She looked him in the eyes, direct, unflinching.
"Zeus."
"You have decided." It was not a question. It was a command.
"I have."
He inclined his head for her to continue.
She glanced across at Hades. He was not looking at her, but was fiercely examining his hands stretched out on the table. She looked at me. I tried to smile, but was certain that it was a weak attempt. Then she looked at Zeus again.
"You have cursed me worse than I was before." Her tone was factual, with no accusation. "I must choose a life without the world, or one without…" Her eyes flashed across to Hades, who still would not look at her. She could not finish the sentence. She swallowed, and continued. "I have no choice but to accept it. And I have decided. I choose the world."
I didn’t recognize the small sound of joy as coming from myself. I closed my eyes in relief. Looked up at my daughter. She was looking at Hades. His hands were clenched now. A small drop of blood appeared on the table below one of them. I barely heard Zeus' response.
"So be it."
#
I see him from time to time. But it is not enough. It is always like that first time. Suddenly there as I walk down a street. Jeans and a t-shirt. But he never touches me. I got used to the longing. I have even become able to control it. But after his first visit it came back so strongly, that I told him he wasn't to touch me any more. I long for his touch, when I am with him. I guess it is like a drug. I can't give in to the desire - the price is too high. And in the absence of the physical contact, we have become friends. It is strange to think of, but I believe he really does miss me.
I catch my mother watching me from time to time. As if she is checking to make sure I am not aging. She knows when I have seen Hades. And although she says nothing, I think she resents it. We are not as close as we once were.
I am getting used to it. The span of time ahead of me scares me when I allow myself to think of it. I still can't comprehend the true meaning of eternity. No time limits. No means of escape. But most of the time I don’t think of it. Just keep moving.
Forever is a fearful word. But I imagine I will get used to it. It will take time. But I have plenty of that.
Click here to start at the beginning.
===
I was terrified. The four of us in a bare room. A table and four chairs. She stood, shaky, but calm, as one who has made a decision after much time. I had no idea what she would say. I had spent the last six months playing it out in my mind, trying to guess her decision. I would think that she would pick the world, but then I would think of the hold Hades had over her, and would immediately second guess myself, and in the end be forced to admit that I quite simply could not predict my daughter.
"Persephone." Zeus used that name as if it were a title.
She looked him in the eyes, direct, unflinching.
"Zeus."
"You have decided." It was not a question. It was a command.
"I have."
He inclined his head for her to continue.
She glanced across at Hades. He was not looking at her, but was fiercely examining his hands stretched out on the table. She looked at me. I tried to smile, but was certain that it was a weak attempt. Then she looked at Zeus again.
"You have cursed me worse than I was before." Her tone was factual, with no accusation. "I must choose a life without the world, or one without…" Her eyes flashed across to Hades, who still would not look at her. She could not finish the sentence. She swallowed, and continued. "I have no choice but to accept it. And I have decided. I choose the world."
I didn’t recognize the small sound of joy as coming from myself. I closed my eyes in relief. Looked up at my daughter. She was looking at Hades. His hands were clenched now. A small drop of blood appeared on the table below one of them. I barely heard Zeus' response.
"So be it."
#
I see him from time to time. But it is not enough. It is always like that first time. Suddenly there as I walk down a street. Jeans and a t-shirt. But he never touches me. I got used to the longing. I have even become able to control it. But after his first visit it came back so strongly, that I told him he wasn't to touch me any more. I long for his touch, when I am with him. I guess it is like a drug. I can't give in to the desire - the price is too high. And in the absence of the physical contact, we have become friends. It is strange to think of, but I believe he really does miss me.
I catch my mother watching me from time to time. As if she is checking to make sure I am not aging. She knows when I have seen Hades. And although she says nothing, I think she resents it. We are not as close as we once were.
I am getting used to it. The span of time ahead of me scares me when I allow myself to think of it. I still can't comprehend the true meaning of eternity. No time limits. No means of escape. But most of the time I don’t think of it. Just keep moving.
Forever is a fearful word. But I imagine I will get used to it. It will take time. But I have plenty of that.
---END---
Tuesday 25 March 2008
Eternity Touch (Part 11)
===
Click here to start at the beginning.
===
I railed and cursed and berated and even begged him but he would not listen. And when she came back, there was something in her eyes. Something that went beyond fear. A decision being made every moment of her day. A decision by which she would decide how to spend her eternity. It was strangely disquieting. Mortals often believe they make that decision. Religious fervour, prayer, repentance - all ways in which mortals fool themselves into thinking that the choice is theirs. But it is not. Except in this one case - and it was nearly more than she could take. One night I found her sitting quietly with tears running down her cheeks. She looked up at me as I walked in.
"How is it possible to choose?" she asked softly. "You, or all the rest of the world…"
I had no answer for her. I could not. I knew what I wanted her to choose. I knew, though I hated to admit it, that I was entrapping her at every opportunity. I had always known what a terrible thing free will could be, but had never witnessed it first hand like this. I knew I wished for her to stay.
And I knew she wouldn’t.
#
I thought it would be an easy choice. When I was first told, my heart leapt. I could stay with him - next time there would be none of this six month long desire, this desperate need to be touched by him. But then I began to think about it carefully. Began to consider what I was missing. To live my eternity, never growing old, never changing, forever in this illusory world he had created. Never to see my mother. Or the sun. Ever again.
Forever is a terrifying word when you are suddenly faced with it and all its implications.
But to go back, and have all that. And be faced with that longing for him. All the time. Forever.
I couldn't do it. It was Hell on the one hand, and hell on the other. A worse curse than the first one.
Hades tried to make it easier. He would give me space for days, but then he would arrive, alive with passion and an angry, all-consuming hunger, and I was trapped all over again. And we would sit, naked, in each other’s arms, and he would breathe raggedly into my ear. And I would shake my head, and say, "to give this up… but Hades, all that world…" and fall silent again at the impossibility of the decision before me.
But eventually, when the day came, I knew what I had decided. The allure of forever was too strong.
Click here to start at the beginning.
===
I railed and cursed and berated and even begged him but he would not listen. And when she came back, there was something in her eyes. Something that went beyond fear. A decision being made every moment of her day. A decision by which she would decide how to spend her eternity. It was strangely disquieting. Mortals often believe they make that decision. Religious fervour, prayer, repentance - all ways in which mortals fool themselves into thinking that the choice is theirs. But it is not. Except in this one case - and it was nearly more than she could take. One night I found her sitting quietly with tears running down her cheeks. She looked up at me as I walked in.
"How is it possible to choose?" she asked softly. "You, or all the rest of the world…"
I had no answer for her. I could not. I knew what I wanted her to choose. I knew, though I hated to admit it, that I was entrapping her at every opportunity. I had always known what a terrible thing free will could be, but had never witnessed it first hand like this. I knew I wished for her to stay.
And I knew she wouldn’t.
#
I thought it would be an easy choice. When I was first told, my heart leapt. I could stay with him - next time there would be none of this six month long desire, this desperate need to be touched by him. But then I began to think about it carefully. Began to consider what I was missing. To live my eternity, never growing old, never changing, forever in this illusory world he had created. Never to see my mother. Or the sun. Ever again.
Forever is a terrifying word when you are suddenly faced with it and all its implications.
But to go back, and have all that. And be faced with that longing for him. All the time. Forever.
I couldn't do it. It was Hell on the one hand, and hell on the other. A worse curse than the first one.
Hades tried to make it easier. He would give me space for days, but then he would arrive, alive with passion and an angry, all-consuming hunger, and I was trapped all over again. And we would sit, naked, in each other’s arms, and he would breathe raggedly into my ear. And I would shake my head, and say, "to give this up… but Hades, all that world…" and fall silent again at the impossibility of the decision before me.
But eventually, when the day came, I knew what I had decided. The allure of forever was too strong.
Monday 24 March 2008
Eternity Touch (Part 10)
===
Click here to start at the beginning.
===
It was strange to see him again, after all those centuries. I think that what happened between us might have been love, had we been mortals. He was silent for a long moment when I arrived.
"Hello Zeus."
He nodded a greeting. "Demeter."
"It has been a long time."
"Indeed."
There was a long silence. Then he spoke, his voice carefully even.
"You know why you are here."
"I know Hades has made... a request."
"He wishes your daughter to be made immortal."
I nodded, unable to speak. I hated that once again the fate of my daughter lay in those bitter angry hands. Zeus shook his head gently at me.
"This has gone on for a long time."
"Yes, Zeus." I tried to keep the anger out of my voice.
"Perhaps too long now."
"Yes." Of course too long, I thought. It was too long already after the first time.
"You understand that I was much angered."
This time I could not even muster a response.
He sighed. "But nevertheless, perhaps I was a little hasty."
Perhaps indeed! And it took him so many centuries to arrive at this conclusion, so much pain. So many times...
"So I will grant Hades' request."
I stiffened. "What does she think of this?"
"She thinks she has no say in the matter. And to be fair, your daughter is a bright girl. She doesn't really."
I had to ask. "Why grant his request Zeus? Why now, after all this time?''
"Because I like her, Demeter. Because I think this has gone on long enough." He paused, and I was suddenly scared. "Because Hades must learn that there is a limit to what he can take for himself."
I knew there was a catch. Suddenly, with the certainty of a mother, and I had to ask, though I dreaded the answer.
"What is the condition, Zeus?"
He smiled, a cold hard smile. "You know me well, still, Demeter. Yes, there is a condition. She will be immortal. But the curse is lifted. She must choose her place. The world, or the Underworld. Not both. She may have the next six months there to decide, and then I will have an answer from her."
Click here to start at the beginning.
===
It was strange to see him again, after all those centuries. I think that what happened between us might have been love, had we been mortals. He was silent for a long moment when I arrived.
"Hello Zeus."
He nodded a greeting. "Demeter."
"It has been a long time."
"Indeed."
There was a long silence. Then he spoke, his voice carefully even.
"You know why you are here."
"I know Hades has made... a request."
"He wishes your daughter to be made immortal."
I nodded, unable to speak. I hated that once again the fate of my daughter lay in those bitter angry hands. Zeus shook his head gently at me.
"This has gone on for a long time."
"Yes, Zeus." I tried to keep the anger out of my voice.
"Perhaps too long now."
"Yes." Of course too long, I thought. It was too long already after the first time.
"You understand that I was much angered."
This time I could not even muster a response.
He sighed. "But nevertheless, perhaps I was a little hasty."
Perhaps indeed! And it took him so many centuries to arrive at this conclusion, so much pain. So many times...
"So I will grant Hades' request."
I stiffened. "What does she think of this?"
"She thinks she has no say in the matter. And to be fair, your daughter is a bright girl. She doesn't really."
I had to ask. "Why grant his request Zeus? Why now, after all this time?''
"Because I like her, Demeter. Because I think this has gone on long enough." He paused, and I was suddenly scared. "Because Hades must learn that there is a limit to what he can take for himself."
I knew there was a catch. Suddenly, with the certainty of a mother, and I had to ask, though I dreaded the answer.
"What is the condition, Zeus?"
He smiled, a cold hard smile. "You know me well, still, Demeter. Yes, there is a condition. She will be immortal. But the curse is lifted. She must choose her place. The world, or the Underworld. Not both. She may have the next six months there to decide, and then I will have an answer from her."
Thursday 20 March 2008
Eternity Touch (Part 9)
===
Click here to start at the beginning.
===
It's uncanny how fast a person can get used to things. It wasn't even a year since I had been taken by Hades, yet when my mother said that Zeus wanted to meet me, the idea wasn't as strange as it could have been. Of course, that may have had something to do with how distant everything seemed except the desire to see Hades again. But still, you really oughtn't to be so nonchalant about meeting the king of the gods. Especially when you know what an easily angered god he is.
The thing about the gods which still amazes me is how ordinary they look when you meet them for the first time. Of course, it's not real. I mean, what you see isn't really what they are, but still. They can take any form they like, but they never seem to make themselves particularly striking. (Except for Apollo, but he's just vain.) Zeus was no exception. He just looked like a sweet, harmless, grandfatherly type. It's deceptive. You find yourself thinking, what a sweet old man. Meanwhile he has so much power he doesn't really know what to do with it.
I gather he liked me. We had tea (if you can believe that!), and chatted like normal people. He wanted to know how I felt about the situation. I had to refrain from telling him how desperately I wished to be back with Hades. He wanted to know if Hades had been kind to me. And how my mother was doing. It was strangely surreal - like you imagine visitation rights of fathers to be. Although Zeus wasn't my father. That, clearly, was part of the problem. And at the end he asked me what I thought he should do.
"You do know that Hades has asked me to make you immortal?"
He asked in the same tone of voice as he would have asked if I took sugar with my tea. My head spun with the possibilities of immortality.
"Well, yes…" My mother had told me this much, but I was uncertain what I was meant to say about it.
"What do you think of that?"
"Well, to be frank…." I trailed off for a moment. "I don't really know. I mean, that's quite a serious proposition."
He chuckled.
"You could say that." He looked at me keenly for a moment. "Do you love him?"
I faltered. Was this desperate desire love?
"Well, I'm not sure. I enjoy his… company, certainly. But love him? I'm not sure that it's possible for a mortal to love the king of the Underworld."
He laughed this time. I hadn't meant it to be funny, but gods are strange that way. I shook my head in bewilderment.
"To be honest, I don't think I can answer that. And I don't think I can tell you if I want to be immortal. And, to be really frank, I don't think what I say is going to make the slightest difference to what you decide."
He laughed a third time.
"I like you, child." He stood up, suddenly all business. "I will talk to your mother about it."
And that was all. Dismissed, as at the end of an interview. In retrospect, I suppose that was what it was, although I had no idea what I was being interviewed for. Had I known, perhaps I would have gone about it differently. Or perhaps not. It's hard to tell.
Click here to start at the beginning.
===
It's uncanny how fast a person can get used to things. It wasn't even a year since I had been taken by Hades, yet when my mother said that Zeus wanted to meet me, the idea wasn't as strange as it could have been. Of course, that may have had something to do with how distant everything seemed except the desire to see Hades again. But still, you really oughtn't to be so nonchalant about meeting the king of the gods. Especially when you know what an easily angered god he is.
The thing about the gods which still amazes me is how ordinary they look when you meet them for the first time. Of course, it's not real. I mean, what you see isn't really what they are, but still. They can take any form they like, but they never seem to make themselves particularly striking. (Except for Apollo, but he's just vain.) Zeus was no exception. He just looked like a sweet, harmless, grandfatherly type. It's deceptive. You find yourself thinking, what a sweet old man. Meanwhile he has so much power he doesn't really know what to do with it.
I gather he liked me. We had tea (if you can believe that!), and chatted like normal people. He wanted to know how I felt about the situation. I had to refrain from telling him how desperately I wished to be back with Hades. He wanted to know if Hades had been kind to me. And how my mother was doing. It was strangely surreal - like you imagine visitation rights of fathers to be. Although Zeus wasn't my father. That, clearly, was part of the problem. And at the end he asked me what I thought he should do.
"You do know that Hades has asked me to make you immortal?"
He asked in the same tone of voice as he would have asked if I took sugar with my tea. My head spun with the possibilities of immortality.
"Well, yes…" My mother had told me this much, but I was uncertain what I was meant to say about it.
"What do you think of that?"
"Well, to be frank…." I trailed off for a moment. "I don't really know. I mean, that's quite a serious proposition."
He chuckled.
"You could say that." He looked at me keenly for a moment. "Do you love him?"
I faltered. Was this desperate desire love?
"Well, I'm not sure. I enjoy his… company, certainly. But love him? I'm not sure that it's possible for a mortal to love the king of the Underworld."
He laughed this time. I hadn't meant it to be funny, but gods are strange that way. I shook my head in bewilderment.
"To be honest, I don't think I can answer that. And I don't think I can tell you if I want to be immortal. And, to be really frank, I don't think what I say is going to make the slightest difference to what you decide."
He laughed a third time.
"I like you, child." He stood up, suddenly all business. "I will talk to your mother about it."
And that was all. Dismissed, as at the end of an interview. In retrospect, I suppose that was what it was, although I had no idea what I was being interviewed for. Had I known, perhaps I would have gone about it differently. Or perhaps not. It's hard to tell.
Wednesday 19 March 2008
Eternity Touch (Part 8)
===
Click here to start at the beginning.
===
I had hoped she would survive it better. She was the strongest of my daughters - the most hot-headed and self-assured. I had often, watching her as a child, thought that maybe she would come back to me still herself. Or at least more like herself than the others had. And at first it looked like she had. She smiled warmly and hugged me. The first couple of days we were as close as we had ever been. We spent every moment together, and I confess I allowed myself to think that maybe this time it wouldn't be so bad. But barely a week had passed before she started acting like the others had. Hours spent staring out the window, or going for walks by herself. The crying behind her closed door. And that blank look in her eyes that made me know she wasn't hearing anything I said. Once again, Hades had taken my daughter from me, even in the time that she was with me. What I didn't know, was that this time, she had made an impact on the all-powerful god of the Underworld in return.
#
It was awful. I can't describe it. That longing to be with him, to have him touch me. It was worse than anything I had ever experienced before. I imagine it is what it's like to be deprived of a drug you are dependant on. It wasn't just missing him. It was more than that - it was like a physical need, like hunger, or thirst, or suffocation. Even now, it happens sometimes. It wasn't an emotional need; it was more primal than that - more demanding.
I could tell how it hurt my mother. I could see it. And yet, I couldn't help it. It was as if I could see her hurt only through a veil - it wasn't quite real to me. And it just got worse. As the weeks passed, it became overriding. Almost unbearable - except for the small light of the knowledge that I would be back with him soon. It got to a point where that was all I was aware of - when I would be back with him. During those six months I came to know how like a drug he was - an addiction I couldn’t break. There are no support groups for people addicted to the touch of a god.
#
I missed her. It was crazy. I had never missed them before. It wasn't that I loved her. I couldn't have - gods don't really fall in love, despite what the stories may tell you. We can't afford it. I just... missed having her there. And that was what started the problem. I could have just left it alone - I knew Zeus regretted the curse. And instead of leaving it well alone and taking what I already had, I got greedy, and gave him the excuse he needed.
I went to him and asked him to make her immortal. I told him that this one was different - she was worthy of being one of us, and I thought that the curse had gone on long enough. He was intrigued. I suppose it was strange - Hades, who never asks favours on behalf of others, Hades, who takes what he wants without help from anyone else, actually asking Zeus for a favour. And on someone else's behalf too! Little wonder that he thought for so long about it. Little wonder that he decided he wanted to meet her. Demeter was very angry - she couldn't forgive me for bringing one of her daughters in contact with Zeus again - especially not after what had happened the last time. What she didn't know was that I was as unhappy about it as her.
Click here to start at the beginning.
===
I had hoped she would survive it better. She was the strongest of my daughters - the most hot-headed and self-assured. I had often, watching her as a child, thought that maybe she would come back to me still herself. Or at least more like herself than the others had. And at first it looked like she had. She smiled warmly and hugged me. The first couple of days we were as close as we had ever been. We spent every moment together, and I confess I allowed myself to think that maybe this time it wouldn't be so bad. But barely a week had passed before she started acting like the others had. Hours spent staring out the window, or going for walks by herself. The crying behind her closed door. And that blank look in her eyes that made me know she wasn't hearing anything I said. Once again, Hades had taken my daughter from me, even in the time that she was with me. What I didn't know, was that this time, she had made an impact on the all-powerful god of the Underworld in return.
#
It was awful. I can't describe it. That longing to be with him, to have him touch me. It was worse than anything I had ever experienced before. I imagine it is what it's like to be deprived of a drug you are dependant on. It wasn't just missing him. It was more than that - it was like a physical need, like hunger, or thirst, or suffocation. Even now, it happens sometimes. It wasn't an emotional need; it was more primal than that - more demanding.
I could tell how it hurt my mother. I could see it. And yet, I couldn't help it. It was as if I could see her hurt only through a veil - it wasn't quite real to me. And it just got worse. As the weeks passed, it became overriding. Almost unbearable - except for the small light of the knowledge that I would be back with him soon. It got to a point where that was all I was aware of - when I would be back with him. During those six months I came to know how like a drug he was - an addiction I couldn’t break. There are no support groups for people addicted to the touch of a god.
#
I missed her. It was crazy. I had never missed them before. It wasn't that I loved her. I couldn't have - gods don't really fall in love, despite what the stories may tell you. We can't afford it. I just... missed having her there. And that was what started the problem. I could have just left it alone - I knew Zeus regretted the curse. And instead of leaving it well alone and taking what I already had, I got greedy, and gave him the excuse he needed.
I went to him and asked him to make her immortal. I told him that this one was different - she was worthy of being one of us, and I thought that the curse had gone on long enough. He was intrigued. I suppose it was strange - Hades, who never asks favours on behalf of others, Hades, who takes what he wants without help from anyone else, actually asking Zeus for a favour. And on someone else's behalf too! Little wonder that he thought for so long about it. Little wonder that he decided he wanted to meet her. Demeter was very angry - she couldn't forgive me for bringing one of her daughters in contact with Zeus again - especially not after what had happened the last time. What she didn't know was that I was as unhappy about it as her.
Tuesday 18 March 2008
Eternity Touch (Part 7)
===
Click here to start at the beginning.
===
It was strange how fast I got used to it there. Except for that first time, he never showed me Hell proper. I was kept in luxury - captivity, yes, but it was a pleasant prison. And I gathered that the story was true enough that I would be home with my mother in six months. At first the time passed slowly. But Hades was an attentive husband, and gradually I got used to him being my only company. In fact, I became strangely addicted to him. And I don't just mean the sex, although that was undoubtedly a vast part of the addiction. There was something else - something about him. Something immensely magnetic.
I suppose you could think that because he is a god it is not surprising that he was magnetic. But it wasn't that. I don't think he knew he was doing it at all. He wanted me to be comfortable and content, certainly. But I don't think it ever occurred to him to worry about whether I was happy there. And I certainly don't think it was anything like love. Despite what the legends may say, there is far too much unfamiliar territory between a mortal and a god for any kind of real intimacy.
I seemed to bewilder him, and that too surprised me. I thought that there would be nothing I could do that he wouldn't expect. I asked him about it once, and he answered that it was because of "that blasted free will", and refused to talk about it further.
The other thing that was weird about him was that he was very polite. That sounds silly. But I can't think of another word. I mean, let's face it, he could have magicked me into being perfectly content to sit in a cell and be his sex-toy if that were what he wanted. But he was impressively diffident, and gentle, and remarkably... British, I suppose would be the best description. Like Hugh Grant.
Unless he was angry. Then he was terrifying. As we neared the end of the first six months, he got more and more short tempered. I tried not to say anything to anger him. Not that he ever hurt me. But he didn’t need to - I knew he could snap me like a twig if he chose, and that was terrifying enough.
I remember once, he was pacing, up and down, up and down. Eventually, it got too much.
"Relax, Hades. Just sit for a moment."
He simply exploded. He flung the table across the room (his strength was terrifying in itself). Wordless books burst against the walls.
"How dare you order me!" he roared. "Do you think you are anything more than a mortal? Are you so arrogant as to command the gods?"
And he raged. It went on for what felt like hours. Eventually he stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him, bringing down an entire shelf of books with the impact. Hours later, when I had restored order to the room, he returned, proud and beautiful. The closest he ever came to an apology was the intense tenderness with which he would touch me after such outbursts. I gather he could never quite bring himself to apologize to a mortal, not even one he had taken as a lover.
And then the six months were over. I should have been thrilled. I mean I was happy. But not as happy as I had expected to be. I had no idea, however, what the next six months would be like.
Click here to start at the beginning.
===
It was strange how fast I got used to it there. Except for that first time, he never showed me Hell proper. I was kept in luxury - captivity, yes, but it was a pleasant prison. And I gathered that the story was true enough that I would be home with my mother in six months. At first the time passed slowly. But Hades was an attentive husband, and gradually I got used to him being my only company. In fact, I became strangely addicted to him. And I don't just mean the sex, although that was undoubtedly a vast part of the addiction. There was something else - something about him. Something immensely magnetic.
I suppose you could think that because he is a god it is not surprising that he was magnetic. But it wasn't that. I don't think he knew he was doing it at all. He wanted me to be comfortable and content, certainly. But I don't think it ever occurred to him to worry about whether I was happy there. And I certainly don't think it was anything like love. Despite what the legends may say, there is far too much unfamiliar territory between a mortal and a god for any kind of real intimacy.
I seemed to bewilder him, and that too surprised me. I thought that there would be nothing I could do that he wouldn't expect. I asked him about it once, and he answered that it was because of "that blasted free will", and refused to talk about it further.
The other thing that was weird about him was that he was very polite. That sounds silly. But I can't think of another word. I mean, let's face it, he could have magicked me into being perfectly content to sit in a cell and be his sex-toy if that were what he wanted. But he was impressively diffident, and gentle, and remarkably... British, I suppose would be the best description. Like Hugh Grant.
Unless he was angry. Then he was terrifying. As we neared the end of the first six months, he got more and more short tempered. I tried not to say anything to anger him. Not that he ever hurt me. But he didn’t need to - I knew he could snap me like a twig if he chose, and that was terrifying enough.
I remember once, he was pacing, up and down, up and down. Eventually, it got too much.
"Relax, Hades. Just sit for a moment."
He simply exploded. He flung the table across the room (his strength was terrifying in itself). Wordless books burst against the walls.
"How dare you order me!" he roared. "Do you think you are anything more than a mortal? Are you so arrogant as to command the gods?"
And he raged. It went on for what felt like hours. Eventually he stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him, bringing down an entire shelf of books with the impact. Hours later, when I had restored order to the room, he returned, proud and beautiful. The closest he ever came to an apology was the intense tenderness with which he would touch me after such outbursts. I gather he could never quite bring himself to apologize to a mortal, not even one he had taken as a lover.
And then the six months were over. I should have been thrilled. I mean I was happy. But not as happy as I had expected to be. I had no idea, however, what the next six months would be like.
Monday 17 March 2008
Eternity Touch (Part 6)
===
Click here to start at the beginning.
===
You see, only part of the myth is true. Yes, I am the goddess of spring. Yes, I do control the seasons. But her father wasn't Zeus. In fact, her father wasn't a god at all. Back then, I told Zeus she was his so that he'd get her back for me - that first time. He was so angry when he found out that I had lied. He couldn't understand the absolute fear and despair of a mother knowing her beautiful daughter is stuck in the Underworld. He couldn't understand the madness - I would have done anything to get her back, even lie to the king of the gods. And it worked. Well, at first. It wasn't an ideal arrangement, having to give her up for half of the year. And Hades is a wily old god. I knew beyond doubt, although she never actually said as much to me, that she missed him during the months she spent with me.
It was Hades who first noticed that she was aging. He came to me and asked me about it. The daughter of two gods would be immortal - aging simply wouldn't happen. I suppose I knew it would come out. I knew she would age - admittedly slower than most, due to being my daughter, but just as irrevocably and unstoppably as any other mortal. When Zeus found out, he was furious. I think he had grown to love her, in his own way, and to be told that not only was she not his, but her father had been a mere mortal was more than he could stand. Oh, how he raged at me. It still sends shivers through me to think of it.
Thus, the curse.
The story would play itself out over and over again for all time. The first Persephone, as is the way with mortals, eventually grew old and died. Hades was strangely moved by her death - far more so than I had expected. And soon after her death, I found myself pregnant. And it all started all over again. Zeus claimed it was to maintain the seasons, but I am sure it was more out of anger. I am also sure he could have revoked it and saved us all a lot of pain, but that would have proved that it was simply an act of malice, and Zeus never admits a mistake.
The strangest thing is that I have tried to avoid the pregnancy. But each time, as my daughter gets old and nears death, one way or another, I find myself pregnant again. And always by a mortal father. And losing her always hurts, although I know from the day she is born that it is coming, and I know that I will get her back for half of each year. It still hurts every time. Maybe it’s because she is never the same that first time she comes back.
Click here to start at the beginning.
===
You see, only part of the myth is true. Yes, I am the goddess of spring. Yes, I do control the seasons. But her father wasn't Zeus. In fact, her father wasn't a god at all. Back then, I told Zeus she was his so that he'd get her back for me - that first time. He was so angry when he found out that I had lied. He couldn't understand the absolute fear and despair of a mother knowing her beautiful daughter is stuck in the Underworld. He couldn't understand the madness - I would have done anything to get her back, even lie to the king of the gods. And it worked. Well, at first. It wasn't an ideal arrangement, having to give her up for half of the year. And Hades is a wily old god. I knew beyond doubt, although she never actually said as much to me, that she missed him during the months she spent with me.
It was Hades who first noticed that she was aging. He came to me and asked me about it. The daughter of two gods would be immortal - aging simply wouldn't happen. I suppose I knew it would come out. I knew she would age - admittedly slower than most, due to being my daughter, but just as irrevocably and unstoppably as any other mortal. When Zeus found out, he was furious. I think he had grown to love her, in his own way, and to be told that not only was she not his, but her father had been a mere mortal was more than he could stand. Oh, how he raged at me. It still sends shivers through me to think of it.
Thus, the curse.
The story would play itself out over and over again for all time. The first Persephone, as is the way with mortals, eventually grew old and died. Hades was strangely moved by her death - far more so than I had expected. And soon after her death, I found myself pregnant. And it all started all over again. Zeus claimed it was to maintain the seasons, but I am sure it was more out of anger. I am also sure he could have revoked it and saved us all a lot of pain, but that would have proved that it was simply an act of malice, and Zeus never admits a mistake.
The strangest thing is that I have tried to avoid the pregnancy. But each time, as my daughter gets old and nears death, one way or another, I find myself pregnant again. And always by a mortal father. And losing her always hurts, although I know from the day she is born that it is coming, and I know that I will get her back for half of each year. It still hurts every time. Maybe it’s because she is never the same that first time she comes back.
Sunday 16 March 2008
Eternity Touch (Part 5)
===
Click here to start at the beginning.
===
She was pleasing. Remarkably so. I think it was then that I really knew that she was different, that there was something about this girl that was going to surprise me. Afterwards I sat watching her. She recovered quickly. Much quicker than I was accustomed to. She sat up and looked me straight in the eyes for a long time.
Eventually, she said, very slowly, "And now?"
"Make yourself comfortable," I replied. "You'll be staying a while."
She was silent for a long time. Then she calmly re-clothed herself and sat in a chair opposite me. She frowned.
"OK. So if I'm Persephone," she glanced at me, still disbelieving, "then my mother is Demeter, right?"
I nodded.
"The goddess of spring and suchlike?"
I nodded.
"As in the Greek myth?"
I nodded again.
"But that's crazy!" she exclaimed. "It's a myth, for fucksakes!!"
"You really are a foul-mouthed creature, aren't you?" I replied.
She dismissed the objection with a wave of her hand. "Look. Last time I checked we were slap-bang at the beginning of the twenty first century. And call me crazy, but that's no place for Greek myths to be playing themselves out."
"You're crazy," I replied.
"Don't try and be funny," she snapped.
I sighed. I had been right. She was a difficult one.
"Ok," I acquiesced, "let me try and explain this to you…"
Click here to start at the beginning.
===
She was pleasing. Remarkably so. I think it was then that I really knew that she was different, that there was something about this girl that was going to surprise me. Afterwards I sat watching her. She recovered quickly. Much quicker than I was accustomed to. She sat up and looked me straight in the eyes for a long time.
Eventually, she said, very slowly, "And now?"
"Make yourself comfortable," I replied. "You'll be staying a while."
She was silent for a long time. Then she calmly re-clothed herself and sat in a chair opposite me. She frowned.
"OK. So if I'm Persephone," she glanced at me, still disbelieving, "then my mother is Demeter, right?"
I nodded.
"The goddess of spring and suchlike?"
I nodded.
"As in the Greek myth?"
I nodded again.
"But that's crazy!" she exclaimed. "It's a myth, for fucksakes!!"
"You really are a foul-mouthed creature, aren't you?" I replied.
She dismissed the objection with a wave of her hand. "Look. Last time I checked we were slap-bang at the beginning of the twenty first century. And call me crazy, but that's no place for Greek myths to be playing themselves out."
"You're crazy," I replied.
"Don't try and be funny," she snapped.
I sighed. I had been right. She was a difficult one.
"Ok," I acquiesced, "let me try and explain this to you…"
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