To my father for having transmitted his love of classical mythology to me
In a book published two years ago, entitled Triangoli diabolici indagine su un archetipo del male (Diabolic triangles Investigation of an archetype of evil) , among others, is written:
“Jealousy is an omnipresent sentiment. Moreover, it is one of the main declinations of the human soul, which has been found since the dawn of time and is substantially detached from historical and social conditions. It is of no coincidence that classical mythology represented and typed it”1.
And the concept is better defined further on:
"In the myth .................., jealousy is the midwife of tragedy and of blood".2
Here we take this feeling for granted, always susceptible to alarming deviations, it represents the other face of love: both one and the other state of the soul, preeminently they move human actions and, within the myth, even the Gods themselves.
The war of Troy, with its enormous burden of pain and death, begins right from a love triangle whose sides are: Helen, "femme fatale" ante litteram of the Homeric legend; Paris, hero with a classic virile charm; Menelaus, pale ruler of Sparta, overwhelmed by the continuous confrontation with his valiant brother Agamemnon.
The meeting between these characters activates a destiny that is filled with pathos: Paris, son of King Priam is madly in love with Helen, and runs away with her; Menelaus, Helen's former husband, blinded by jealousy and lust for revenge, declares war on Troy, beginning a ruinous tragedy that will last ten years.
Around this central nucleus, infinite events are linked to each other by the invisible Fate who comes to life, now tangling now dissolving: unfathomable and mysterious, a true deus ex machina of Greek mythology, Fate exceeds, with its absolute determinism, even the will of the gods.
Like the Iliad, to which Cristian's writing refers, as with all the myths of antiquity, far from simply proposing an invented story, he has fulfilled the same function that today is assumed by psychoanalysis. Dense with symbolism, in fact, the myth dug deep into the human soul triggering them to become aware of their hidden drives and freeing them from the slavery of the unknown.
The love triangle therefore comprises the underlying dynamic – he-she-the other – on which infinite variations are implanted, according to a space-time scenario that never repeats itself in its fundamental instances. And this happens as much in real life as in artistic re-enactments, especially in theater, cinema and literature.
The story of Helen, Paris and Menelaus therefore represents "an archetype", a primary model that recurs in the complex logic of human feelings. To the point of being considered the archetype of absolute evil.
It is not strange then if the Homeric plot, despite the passage of entire centuries, each time returns to enthrall and involve.
A few weeks ago, all of a sudden, this very fluid and captivating piece by Cristian urged me to turn my mind to the lost pleasure of "listening to stories", that ancestral childish disposition of following mythical stories, from the fantastic narration of grandparents, to the compelling plots of fairy tales and legends.
I began to read and continued until the end, without taking a breath, often pausing on the pages because, continuously, names and situations were linked to innumerable details that had been long submerged in my crowded memory. The tightened synapses regained their height leading me to readings that seemed to have been forgotten.
So I returned joyfully to my years in high school, when, among students, they joked mocking the intricate and improbable events of this noisy acolyte, made up of characters and divinities who, between malice and passions, often touched the fascination of madness.
Yet, imprisoned in spite of ourselves between books and old benches, we would never have admitted then that, after all, those events had won us over. It might happen that, at the end of the lesson, an intense curiosity remained to know the implications of that story that we dealt with solely as a scholastic duty.
Those who claim the Homeric poem is nothing more than the harmonious and poetic result of a tradition handed down orally are right: the conflicts and situations reported in it adhere too closely to earthly existence.
With this fictionalized version of the Trojan epic, it seems that Cristian proposes winking, between the inviting and the amused. A sort of game … almost a bet.
He seems to already know that the readers will remain, despite themselves, caught up in the plot and that, like children placed before a fairy tale, at the end of each chapter they will ask with irrepressible curiosity:
“And then?”
Mottola, 10 June 2009
In the time when humans, gods and heroes were the only true masters of their time, intertwining their lives, confusing their work, assimilating and sharing their feelings, fate revived, as it had already done millions of other times, as it does every day despite our being unaware and as it will do until the final day of human existence, the historical, fantastic and mostly intimate story that has marked and conditioned the natural course of history with it extraordinary action, dynamic narrative, epic plot, psychological implications, and eternal indelible values.
It all began on a brisk spring morning…
The sun of day, long awaited by mortals and immortals, rose on the mountains of Thessaly.
Finally the divine wings of Hermes, god of luck and travel and messenger of the gods, rested exhausted on a comfortable seat of ebonite, after having delivered the happy invitation throughout creation. Meanwhile, little Eros, god of love, took advantage by playing with the caduceus, in the heartbreaking expectation of hitting the two young spouses who everyone was now awaiting. The world celebrated the wedding feast of Thetis and Peleus.
Thetis, or Tethys, was the most beautiful of the fifty nymphs who were daughters of Nereus, the old god of the marine abysses. Her youth and her bewitching ways had also caused the father of the gods, god of heaven and earth, to lose his head, Zeus, who, despite already being married to his sister Hera, goddess of abundance, used to loose himself in faithless escapades with the most beautiful maidens in the world.
It happened that, just when Zeus, in disguise, was about to mate with Thetis, Hermes arrived in time, bringing an urgent missive to his father: the Titan Prometheus, who had been chained by Zeus for years on a cliff in the Caucasus for having stolen the divine fire and given it to humans, had to report something that if ignored would cause the supreme god to lose the throne and his primacy on Olympus.
Thus, the divine seducer swooped down like a thunderbolt on Prometheus and promised to end his captivity and the atrocious torture to which he had been condemned if the latter immediately revealed what was threatening his throne and had troubled his sleep continuously. And while he was making a solemn oath, he liberated a huge, majestic, impressive eagle in flight, which came with its claws against the vulture that had meanwhile come from the east. Throughout the day that dismal bird devoured the liver of poor Prometheus, abandoning its victim in the hours of night, during which the abdominal organ, by divine will, fatally and cruelly recomposed itself, ready to be devoured the next day. That was the infinite punishment that had been decided by the father of the gods.
Only after the raptor's beak fell to the ground and the eagle returned to its lord's feet did Prometheus raise his exhausted head and, while a light drizzle wet his dry lips, did he accept the compromise dictated by his executioner, revealing that if Zeus conceived a son with Thetis, he would do to his father what his father had done to his grandfather.
At this admonition, the father of the gods was stunned, the sky thundered, a thunderbolt ripped the earth open and the overflowing waters of the Pontus reminded Zeus of the heinous means by which, in the mists of time, he had killed his father Cronus removing him from the throne of thrones.
Prometheus was immediately freed and Zeus renounced Thetis forever ruling that no being of a divine nature could ever join with the daughter of Nereus, who would marry a humble mortal, the strongest of princes then living, Peleus, son of Aeacus, king of Thessaly, the one who after a thousand vicissitudes had managed to seize the golden fleece during a feat while following Jason and the other 54 Argonauts, that had been brought together by the centaur Chiron, the one who, although mortal, would have fought as a god, the one who was most devoted to Zeus and would watch over his future wife day and night at the cost of his own life.
This is why, despite the heterogeneous nature of the spouses, the wedding being prepared was blessed by humans as well as by the gods, that is why the wedding witnesses were Hera and Zeus in person and that is why gods and goddesses from all around the Earth, sea and sky flocked to Mount Peleus to celebrate the sensational event.
Finally, escorted by Apollo's golden chariot, the two spouses arrived and among a thousand celebrations they took their place at the center of the table set with the most exquisite delicacies on the Earth; immediately at their side sat the divine witnesses and then Poseidon, god of the sea, Hades, god of the underworld, his wife Persephone, goddess of spring and summer luxuriance; Apollo, god of the sun and the arts; Ares, god of war; Athena, goddess of wisdom and fortitude; Aphrodite, goddess of beauty; Artemis, goddess of hunting; Hermes; Demeter, goddess of the crops and fertility of the earth; Hephaestus, god of fire and industriousness; Themes, goddess of justice; Irene, goddess of peace; Aeolus, god of the winds; Dionysus, god of wine and games, and so on, up to all the rulers and notables of the Earth.
Everything had been taken care of down to the smallest detail, everything was perfect, indeed divine, happiness was clearly visible in the eyes of all the guests and love in that of the spouses, even before Eros had stretched his bow and let fly his fatal arrows towards them.
A scent of nectar and ambrosia inebriated and spread in the air each time the two cupbearers, Ganymede, son of King Tros, and Hebe, goddess of youth, served all the guests in turn.
Apollo, urged by his father, called upon the Muses (Clio, Euterpe, Thalia, Melpomene, Terpsichore, Erato, Polyhymnia, Calliope and Urania), as well as the Graces (Aglaea, Euphrosyne and the other Thalia) and began to sing the deeds of Peleus, accompanied by the zither.
The sound of that divine instrument enchanted all present and resounded all around the Earth until Iris the deaf and ugly goddess of discord heard about it, the only goddess who had not been invited to the banquet. The previous day, she had attempted to break into the divine gathering but was escorted by Eros and Dionysus who unknown to Poseidon were hidden with the Nereids and the Oceanids.
Even Ares, who after having argued animatedly with Irene had withdrawn with Aphrodite, noticed that suspicious shadow and, grasping her by the throat, made the unwanted goddess tumble all the way down the western side of Mount Pelion, telling her not to return.
But the singing of Apollo and the festive shouting of the participants increased Iris's anger and indignation to such an extent that the latter devised a diabolical plan that would have the most unexpected and unpredictable consequences…
Discord went to the ends of the Earth, where Atlas, brother of Prometheus, had been relegated to support the heavenly vault having been guilty of having participated in the war of the Giants against Zeus. In the garden of the Hesperides, the daughters of Atlas, where the trees with golden apples grew; employing trickery Iris gathered the most beautiful apple and immediately returned to Thessaly with it.
She arrived at the banquet when the celebrations were drawing to a close and the guests, one by one, were showing off the gifts brought for the spouses: Poseidon gave Peleus two beautiful horses, Balius and Xanthus, the fastest in the world, gifted with speech and prophesy, Hera gave Thetis a magnificent peplum decorated with embroidery, Aphrodite offered a bronze cup and a golden diadem, Athena a golden flute, Hermes a bronze and ivory chariot, Chiron a heavy spear with a bronze point.
So, while everyone admired the features of those wonderful gifts, Iris managed to introduce herself into the party and hide in a dark corner where no one could see her but close enough to be able to throw the "apple of discord" on the table, now almost cleared, that she had stolen from the daughters of Atlas.
Although he was not very lucid because of the 99 ounces of wine he had drunk in the competition with Dionysus, Zeus was the first to notice the apple; he knew those fruits well and, before all the others inevitably looked at that extraordinary fruit, he ruled: "it is from the garden of the Hesperides!"
Suddenly everyone were enthralled, including the bride and groom, by that apple that caught the eye at the center of the table and someone assumed it was another gift for that unforgettable wedding.
Again it was Zeus who noticed there was an inscription on that fruit, but the wine he had drunk prevented him from distinguishing the letters well and then he sent the apple to Athena, the most learned among the gods, asking her to read the inscription for everyone. Athena did not hesitate and read the curious message: "To the most beautiful", and returned the fruit to her father so that he could decide who it was for.
She was certain her husband would have no doubts, and made no effort to present the reasons of the bride and first goddess in order to grasp that extraordinary gift. Immediately afterwards Aphrodite intervened, reminding Zeus that it was not by chance that the title of goddess of beauty belonged to her. Finally other goddesses and nymphs came forward, all with reasonable arguments, but in the end the third candidate gathered around Athena who, in addition to possessing a statuesque physicality, also boasted an indisputable inner and intellectual beauty.
Even Zeus expressed his embarrassment with this contest and, when the murmur grew dramatically to the point of dispute, he uttered a powerful cry like a hundred lightning strikes, silencing everyone. Irate and staggering, he took a few steps away from the banquet, leaving the burden of choice to Themis, goddess of justice.
Themis, in turn, after having convinced all those present that everyone had their own good reasons and that nobody there was able to judge objectively because, for one reason or another, they were emotionally involved, acting on the assignment received, she ruled: "The choice touches Paris of Mount Ida, who is the most beautiful among men".
Only then, Zeus, who could not wait to rest to rid himself of his accursed hangover, expressed his paternal approval of the sentence and decreed the matter definitively closed.
So, after several years, when Paris achieved his maximum youthful beauty, the three candidate goddesses, preceded by Hermes, in their turn departed for Mount Ida.
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