While working on my novel, which involves ancient gods manifesting themselves here on Earth in modern times, I’ve had occasion to rewrite some of the ancient myths which lie behind many of these gods. This is to help the divinities to make more sense to modern readers.
There have been other books which place the old gods in more modern settings. Neil Gaiman’s American Gods is a good example. The gods are given contemporary garb and are in competition with newer gods. For younger readers there is the Percy Jackson series. I choose to keep the gods in their traditional roles but have their legends reflect modern discoveries. For example Ouranos (better known to snickering teens everywhere as Uranus) is an ancient Titan Who is millions of years old but in the story has already Transcended so He’s not seen in the novel, only mentioned.
Rewrites of myths are nothing new. In ancient times, such stories were originally told orally and would be altered to suit the audience listening to the tales. There was no centralized religious doctrine which would have standardized the legends.This is why you often see more than one origin for a god. Dionysus is most commonly portrayed as the son of Zeus by a mortal woman called Semele. But other stories have Him as the son of Persephone by Zeus, an origin which no doubt raised a few eyebrows as Persephone was the daughter of Zeus by Demeter Who happens to be a sister of Zeus.
The God Dionysus
Athena no longer springs full grown from the head of Zeus. Instead she is the daughter of Metis who was an earlier wife of Zeus. As a young goddess, She watches Her parents quarrel and become estranged over the War with the Titans, which Metis advised against. After Metis’s warnings are borne out by the massive disruption of global ecosystems and human societies which was the end of the Ice Age, She quits Her throne in disgust and Transcends which is when Hera becomes the new consort of Zeus.
Minor tales come in for a rewrite as well. The Graeae sisters were originally portrayed as immortal beings sharing one tooth and one eye between Them. This odd characteristic is thought by some to indicate that the single eye and tooth may have been a source of oracular powers. Since the stories have long since become detached from the cultures they were a part of, these details have lost whatever meaning they had. I rewrote the story in the following manner.
The Graeae were daughters of Ceto and Phorcys Who were sea gods. When They were born, the Graeae had Their teeth but possessed no eyes, only empty sockets. Their mother Ceto went to the god Hephaestus, asking the Master Craftsman of the gods if He would create eyes for Her children so They could see. Hephaestus crafted a set of eyes for each of the sisters and all was well for a while. But the sisters got careless with Their eyes, playfully swapping them around or juggling them. This eventually resulted in the eyes being lost or broken one by one until the Sisters had only the one eye left. When Ceto returned to Hephaestus for replacement eyes, He was infuriated over how carelessly His creations had been handled and refused to make new ones. So, to this day, the Graeae must make do with the one eye.
Hephaestus
The gorgons have a similar jumble of tales. In one, only Medusa has the power to turn Her victims to stone, the result of having violated the sanctity of one of Athena’s temples by having sex with Poseidon, which angered Athena, Who changed the once beautiful woman into a hideous monster. Other tales have three gorgons, Stheno, Euryale and Medusa, all born hideous with snakes for hair. Of the trio, only Medusa is mortal and can be killed, though no explanation of why she was mortal was given. I amended this by writing all three were immortal, but Perseus was given the great Harpe sword by his father Zeus. The Harpe sword is portrayed as a divine weapon, able to slay divinities as well as mortals and it was this he used to destroy Medusa.
Harpe sword of Zeus
Lastly comes Odin. Legends portray Him and His brothers as having killed Ymir, a primeval androgenous being, said to be the first giant. The divine siblings then dismember Ymir and create the world with His body parts. This has been rewritten as Ymir still being an ancient giant but living in already existing world. One of His roles was leader of the Wild Hunt. When He finally Transcended, He turned over control of the Wild Hunt to Odin, Who’s been conducting it ever since. And what exactly is the Wild Hunt? Well, it’s not what you might think.
Offering hospitality towards visitors is an old custom, common to every culture you could think of. In traditional cultures it was often considered a moral obligation. You needed to treat any visitor, either people you knew or strangers from a far off place with equal courtesy. Underlying it is the idea of treating others as you yourself would wish to be treated if you were in a strange place.
In ancient Greece, it was known as Xenia. In a time when conflict could be just an insult away, it was important to treat guests with generosity. You might never know who was sitting at your table as a guest. Folk tales gave accounts of what happened to those who either honored Xenia or violated it. Once Zeus and Hermes, disguised as mortals, tested the hospitality of a village. Looking like beggars they were spurned by nearly everyone except an elderly impoverished couple who welcomed the strangers into their home and shared what little they had with their visitors. The gods punished the other villagers by sweeping them away in a flood while sparing Philemon and Baucis because of their generosity.
A similar attitude exists in India, where it is explicitly assumed the visitor might be a divinity in disguise and should be treated accordingly. The Odyssey depicted a variety of tales exhibiting the benefits of Xenia. It also showed what would happen if Xenia was violated. The cyclops Polyphemus not only failed to show any hospitality to his visitors, he even devoured several of them with relish before being blinded by the wily Odysseus.
In the novel I’m currently writing, a character is introduced and has an unusual experience which unbeknownst to him involves a bit of Xenia….
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Officer Joseph Burrows munched on his roast beef sandwich, occasionally popping in a large wedge of potato fry. He had settled his chunky frame at one of the outdoor tables set up in the tiny park a few blocks from the station. The seat was hard as a rock but he wasn’t going to sit in it long enough to make his hip ache. Just long enough to chow down and then scoot back to work. As usual the take-out fries were good if a bit salty but they always cooled too quickly. He wished there was a good way to keep them warm. The cardboard container they were in just didn’t cut it. Maybe he should bring one of those insulated plastic containers his wife used. Just something to hold the heat in while he ate them. Maybe Keith was willing to eat cold fries but he sure as hell couldn’t. Keith could eat pretty much anything without even hiccuping. He wasn’t on duty today though so Joe would have to toss the cold ones. He hated wasting them but there was just no way he could eat them. They’d sit like a lump of lead in his stomach for the rest of the day if he did.
The rookie assigned to him should be starting today. Jacob Armstrong was tall, lean, with auburn hair and the kind of light complexion that would burn like a torch if he stood out in the sun too long. Fresh out of the police academy, he was bright eyed and bushy tailed, obviously raring to go. Joe always looked forward to showing the new kids the ropes. They’d start out so wet behind the ears they’d leave a puddle behind them but he’d guide them along, correcting any misconceptions they had, watch them fumble a bit but then pick it up little by little. The new kid looked so clean cut, Joe was surprised he didn’t squeak when he walked. But he suspected Jacob was sharp enough that he would probably catch on quick. The department always assigned the most promising ones to him. Whatever rough edges he had, Joe would expertly trim off, buffing and honing him. With any luck he’d leave a good officer behind to take his place. Damn, he’d miss all this once he retired.
A passing taxi honked its horn repeatedly, the driver leaning out the window glaring at the vehicle in front of him, swearing and giving the classic New York City salute with a tobacco stained digit. Joe shook his head. He knew the guy, having cited him a few times for illegal parking. Once of these days he was going to wave his finger at the wrong guy and then all hell would break loose. People were so damn short-tempered these days. With any luck Joe would already be drawing his pension by then. I’ll have to remember to warn Jacob about that moron so he’ll know to watch for him. Joe took another bite of the roast beef.
An enormous black bird soared down and landed on the concrete barrier near him, shaking its feathers out as it settled down. Joe’s eyes had a little difficulty focusing on the thing at first. Jesus, that’s not a crow, it’s a raven. He thought, as his eyes finally adjusted to the size of the bird sitting just five feet away. A feeling of unreality settled around him. Christ, he’s a big mother. I didn’t realize they got that big. He looks like he could take on Uncle Sam’s eagle. The raven stared at him intently, black eyes shining with ageless intelligence, then looked down at the package of fries.
“Hungry.” It croaked unmistakably. “I’m hungry.”
It took a moment for Joseph to remember to swallow the piece of sandwich he had been chewing on. The feeling of unreality increased. Okay, Joe my man. A giant raven just asked you in perfect English for a handout. What are you going to do? Well, there were several options, running off screaming being one of them. But this was New York City. The Big Crazy Apple. There was only one thing he could do.
“You can have the fries. I’m not going to be able to finish them.”
“Thank you.” replied the raven, Who hopped down and quickly polished them off. Once done He flew off. Joseph watched Him for a moment, powerful wing strokes taking the bird, if that’s what it was, rapidly out of sight. He finally shook his head. The wife will never believe it. Never. Hell, I don’t believe it. He had the odd feeling he had just been tested in some way though he wasn’t sure what the test was for. Probably one of those things he’d have to wait on until he got to the Pearly Gates before he found out the answer. Finally he laughed and finished his lunch.
Hugin, resuming His journey around the world, burped. In spite of the Age of Iron, it was nice that some mortals still had respect for otherworldly beings. Most humans would have just run or tossed a rock at Him. This one had responded correctly, with generosity, which pleased Him and would no doubt please His Lord as well. But He probably shouldn’t have eaten those fries. It felt like they were going to sit like a lump of lead in His belly the whole trip.
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So always show courtesy and generosity to whoever or whatever you meet. You just never know….
A few weeks ago I posted a fragment
of the novel I’m working on. We saw some of the gods both opposed and
in favor of the god Dionysus and His actions. Here is part two.
…..Launching Himself into the air,
Coyote streaked towards the south. Once He was gone, Manannan shifted
Himself to the Otherworld and entered the quiet park where Athena was
busy working over Her loom.
“Coyote saw Takannaaluk give Dionysus
two pieces of Ares’ Armor, the greaves.”
“I suspected as much. The yarn just
took on a darker color while I was weaving.” Athena paused in Her
work and scowled at the Tapestry. “I’ll have to adjust my strategy
a little.”
“Takannaakuk isn’t the only one who’s
sympathetic to Dionysus. I’ve spoken with a few minor divinities Who
hope for a chance to ride on His coattails, as humans say.”
“And I’ve spoken to some who either
prefer remaining neutral, waiting to see which way the wind blows or
refraining because They have no ability to fight.” replied Athena.
Manannan watched as She plucked out a few threads and adjusted a few
more. She then sat back and surveyed the results. The son of Lir
thought the pattern looked good but given the complexity of what
Athena was weaving, He knew that might be deceptive. The sound of two
ravens croaking outside the pavilion drew Their attention. A figure
in a ragged cloak and drooping hat approached, His shoulders sporting
two sleek ravens.
“I for one will no longer remain
neutral.” Said Odin, stepping into the pavilion. “Indeed, I
regret now not adding My voice to Yours when You tried to dissuade
Him.”
“What made you change your mind?”
asked Athena.
“I finally cast the Runes to see what your brother’s rise might portend. What I saw wasn’t good. It makes me wish I had Transcended with the others. Ragnarok was a myth created by humans but if your brother continues to rise unopposed, it will likely become reality.”
“Enough have told me They loathe my
brother and intend to fight Him that I fear you are right,
All-Father. Right now They are too busy arguing among Themselves as
to who should lead the battle. While They squabble, my brother grows
stronger. It will make the battle that much harder for Them.”
“Some of Them approached me asking if
I would conduct the Wild Hunt against your brother. I refused Them of
course. The Wild Hunt is not meant for warfare but is only done out
of the most dire necessity, when negative energies have built up to a
catastrophic level and need to be safely discharged. It hasn’t
reached that point – yet.” Odin’s single eye flared in anger. “Any
one of Them could have struck down Dionysus when they had the chance
but didn’t bother because They held Him in so much contempt. Now They
realize Their mistake and are scrambling to make battle plans.”
“Dionysus knows this, which is why He
searches for the Armor. He has no fighting ability but the Armor
would make him nearly indestructible. If only Ares had come willingly
instead of being dragged kicking and screaming by my Father into the
Otherworld, I would have been able to get the Armor in my possession.
Then it would have been a simple matter to give It to Pele or
Sethlans to melt down once and for all. There’s no other Armor which
comes close to what Hephaestus forged. Only Sethlans approaches Him
in ability and He has already indicated He stands against Dionysus.”
“Hmph! I can’t picture Ares willingly
Transcending.” said Manannan. “He might have given you an
argument on what to do with that Armor. What finally did happen to
Him?”
“Ares refused to Transcend and
attacked Zeus in an effort to break His power so He could return to
the ordinary world. Our Father slew Him with Artemis’s Bow and
Arrow.” replied Athena, heavily. “Dionysus saw all this and never
forgot it. That’s why He searches for the Armor. He fully expects me
to make a strike against Him as Father did against Ares.”
Odin’s ravens suddenly began croaking
loudly and Athena’s owl bristled its feathers as it spread its beak
in a fierce hiss. The three gods turned to look at what approached.
At first all that could be seen was a
black shadow moving along the cobblestone path. But as it drew near,
the gentle light given off by the the pavilion began to illuminate
it. Mannanan sensed Odin shudder and heard Him mutter in a low voice.
“…And I thought Hela was ugly….”
She Who walked the path was evidently
sharp eared enough to hear Him, for a dry rattling laugh floated
towards them.
“Yes, I am no beauty, All-Father.
Death is often ugly especially to those never touched by it.”
She was hideous. Dressed in a blood red
robe thrown back revealing Her skeletal body, She clutched a scythe
in one bony hand and a sack brightly decorated with colorful skull
patterns in the other. She did have some flesh, tendons and ligaments
holding Her form together. Two shriveled breasts dangled from Her
near fleshless chest. Scarlet orbs burned in the depths of Her eye
sockets.
“Mictecacihuatl?” Even Athena
seemed uncertain about the identity of their visitor now standing at
the foot of the pavilion.
“Santa Muerta, they call Me now.”
“One of the Aztec gods?” Said
Manannan. “I thought you all perished in the Catastrophe.”
“Not all. Most of My brethren lost
coherence when Their followers died from disease and genocide but a
few of Us managed to cling to existence when populations stabilized.
It was a good though bitter lesson for Us, not to base all Our power
on the sacrifices the mortals used to make to us. Now my power begins
to grow once more.” Her dry chuckle sounded again. “Death is a
constant after all. And the devotion of My new followers has become
important to Me. However your half-brother threatens that. He brings
the danger of chaos which could wipe out what gains I have managed to
make. You should have killed and flayed Him when you had the
opportunity, Athena.”
“That…is not My way.” replied
Athena, a wry twist momentarily appearing on Her mouth. “I prefer
strategy to brute force.”
“As You will.” replied Santa Muerta
with a shrug. “However I have brought something which might help
out Your strategy.”
So saying, She opened the sack She held
and dumped out its contents. Two golden gauntlets fell to the ground.
Mannanan stepped forward and took them up, bringing them to Athena.
“I thank you.” Said Athena gravely.
“May I ask how you managed to come by them?”
“They were found by some tomb robbers
who attempted to melt them down for the gold. When the gauntlets
failed to melt, they became frightened and brought them to a follower
of mine, an up and coming drug lord. He fancies himself the next
Pablo Escobar and dabbles in the occult. He saw at once their
otherworldly nature and presented them as a gift to Me after
summoning Me in a ritual. The offering pleased Me, so needless to
say, his affairs will be prospering in the future.”
Manannan wondered what kind of ritual
would draw such a one as Santa Muerta, but decided it was better not
to ask. As one who slipped regularly between the Otherworld and the
ordinary realms, He often helped guide the confused spirits of those
who had just died on their transition into the Afterlife, seeing His
efforts as a benefit to humans. But He never ruled over any of the
realms of the Dead such as Arawn, Hela and their visitor did. While
many of these realms were pleasant and comforting to those who had
passed, some were dark and fearsome, reflecting the nature of the
souls who had fallen into them. Given the frightful appearance of
Santa Muerta, She likely ruled one of these latter realms.
“So far only the outer parts of
Ares’s Armor have been found.” Said Odin. “It’s the Helm and
Cuirass, the main parts of the Armor that concern Me. Have no sign of
them been seen?”
“Not by I.” replied Santa Muerta.
“But a soul I recently collected had a memory of seeing golden
armor such as you mention when he was in the Middle East. Whether it
belonged to Ares or was simply mortal armor was impossible to
determine. Regrettably he could not recall where exactly he had seen
it. The trauma of his death was too great to retain the memory.”
“Athena, there’s so much violence
and turmoil in that place, so much so that it makes Me wonder.”
said Manannan. “Would the Armor cause any of that?”
“No. Human warfare is self-generated.
What’s happening there is the result of ordinary human meddling. The
Armor would not affect that. Its energies are passive in nature. So
unfortunately We can’t use it as a barometer for locating the
remaining fragments.”
“I will question some of the other
souls who have arrived in My realm.” Said Santa Muerta. “Because
many who come to Me have died by violence, their memories are often
fragmented. But a few do arrive intact so I will see if any who
visited that region have any memories which might help You.”
Santa Muerta turned and left the same way She came. Athena’s owl finally smoothed its feathers and Odins’ ravens who had quietly grumbled the whole time She was present, fell silent.
“An unorthodox ally.” remarked
Manannan.
“She helps us for Her own reasons.”
answered Athena. “In Her own grim way, She promotes harmony as She
knows it in the realm that is Her proper domain. She shepherds the
souls who enter her realm rather than torment or devour them as
demons would. She doesn’t try to remake worlds to suit Her taste.”
“But She might try to extend Her rule
to other Underworlds.” said Odin. “More than a few are empty of
any ruler. I know Hades has Transcended and so have a few Others. If
no one assumes command of these places other than a few pitiful
demons trying to raise Themselves up, She will likely expel Them and
take on rulership Herself. She bears watching, I think.”
“Perhaps.” replied Athena. “But
that’s a concern for the future. My brother is the great worry now.”
“True enough.” replied Odin,
straightening. He lifted the two ravens off His shoulders and sent
them flying in opposite directions. “I will return to Asgard and
watch for further developments. Some of the Others may see an
opportunity for advancing Their own agendas so We will need to beware
of that. I don’t know about You but I don’t really want any more
surprises.” So saying He exited the pavilion and vanished.
“I’ll go to New York City and do a
little spying for You.” Said Manannan. “That seems to be where
Dionysus is centering His activities.”
“I agree.” nodded Athena. Then Her
lips curved in amusement. “By the way, did You make good use of
those porcupine quills I gave You?”
“I did, Great Avatar of Wisdom.” Grinned Manannan happily. “I most certainly did.”
The
above text is not carved in stone by any means and I may rewrite
parts of it. The process of writing is for the most part inspiration
rather than anything planned. As new ideas bubble up, the preceding
words will be edited or deleted. Sometimes I don’t even know what I’m
going to write until I actually sit down and start typing. Stay
tuned.
