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Chimeras and Gadflies – Of Hubris Fallen

In the Antalya Province of southwestern Turkey, there is a natural phenomenon situated along the hiking trail called Lycian Way in the Olympos National Park. There, the yanartaş (or, flaming rock, in Turkish) occur. The area is marked by some two dozen vents of methane gas emissions group into two separate patches.  The fires never go out. This area has been cited as the possible location of the ancient Mount Chimaera, in what was once Lycia. It is also supposed to be the birth of the Chimera myth.

Chimera by artist Andy Park

Chimera by artist Andy Park

In ancient time, the chimera was a horrendous monster which was reputedly a combination of several creatures.  The great poet Homer depicted her as having the head of a lioness, with the head of a goat protruding from her back and her tail being a deadly serpent. Now that, my friends, is a nasty creature.  Add to this lovely depiction the fact that the chimera, like a dragon, breathed vicious gouts of lethal fire.

In previous columns, here at The Green Room, I’ve spoken about how all notable demigods seems to be born into lives of dangerous adventure or downright terrible fates. Well, you will happy to note that today is no exception.

Bellerophon was the son of King Glaucus and the grandson of Sisyphus (a clever and dangerous man in his own right who will grace the halls of The Green Room shortly). Back to the hero of our tale: Bellerophon.

Bellerophon was described in the Iliad as “the greatest hero and slayer of monsters, alongside of Cadmus and Perseus, before the days of Heracles.” His story begins as many do in the old words: with a banishment.

It’s never clearly stated as to what the exact crime committed by Bellerophon was; he either killed his brother or a sneaky enemy.  Regardless, his actions got him exiled from Corinth, his hometown, and sent to King Proteus of Tiryns. King Proteus, by virtue of his position, wiped the slate clean for our young hero. Soon thereafter – we all know how darned sexy these heroes were! – the wife of the king, Anteia, grew to fancy the strapping young lad. Bellerophon, for whatever reason, blew off the queen to his own detriment. She was upset at being ignored by our hero and claimed, to the king, that he had ravished her nonetheless.

Now, King Proteus was like most folks of that day and age: superstitious. He feared angering the Kindly Ones (the Erinyes, vengeful creatures born of the droplets of blood from the castrated genitalia of Uranus as it was tossed into the sea by the titan Cronus) by killing a welcomed guest. After much contemplation, he sent Bellerophon to the plains of the river Xanthus in Lycia with a closed, folded tablet to King Iobates (Proteus father-in-law).

King Iobates welcomed the young messenger and feasted with him for nine days prior to opening the tablet.  When he did, he was stunned at the message: “Pray remove the bearer from this world: he attempted to violate my wife, your daughter.” On reading this, the king was also fearful of angering the Erinyes, and so sent Bellerophon on what he considered a fatal task: kill the Chimera, which resided in nearby Caria.

There was a seer in Lycia, named Polyeidos, who forewarned Bellerophon that he would need to capture the Pegasus in

Bellerophon vs. the Chimera

Bellerophon vs. the Chimera

order to defeat the Chimera. The seer told Bellerophon that, in order to secure the services of the winged horse, he should sleep in the temple of Athena.  Therein, our hero dreamt of Athena. In the dream, Athena admired the youth’s struggles and presented him with a golden bridle, telling him that he should use it to tame the Pegasus. When he awoke, Bellerophon found the bridle lying next to him.

Our hero knew that he would need to approach the Pegasus as it drank from a well (described to him by Polyeidos), the Pirene, on the citadel of Corinth, the city of Bellerophon’s birth. He performed the task well and mounted his new steed, flying off to face the Chimera.

Upon facing the Chimera, Bellerophon quickly saw that this was a fierce and terrible creature and he could not defeat it, even upon Pegasus. The hot flame breath of the Chimera prevented him from getting close enough to do any real damage. Then our hero got an idea. He got a large block of lead and affixed it to the tip of his spear.  He then charged the Chimera head-on.  Just before he was forced to break off his attack, Bellerophon managed to shoved the spear into the Chimera’s throat, lodging it there.  The ferocious heat of the animal’s breath caused the lead to melt and block its esophagus, suffocating the beast.

Bellerophon returned in victory to Lycia; however, King Iobates refused to credit the hero’s tale.  A further series of dangerous and daunting tasks followed, until Iobates was forced to admit the courage and abilities of the young hero. He allowed Bellerophon to take his daughter’s (the younger sister of Anteia) hand in marriage.

One would think that “they all lived happily ever after” would be a fitting end to this tale, but we are still speaking of demigods, are we not? Rarely do such “heroes” achieve such tranquility in their lives.

With Bellerophon’s fame came a growing hubris within the man. He came to believe he should be able to fly to Mount Olympus, the realm of the gods. Needless to say, Zeus was less than thrilled with this man’s arrogant presumptuousness. So, as Bellerophon attempted to fly high up to Mount Olympus, Zeus sent a gadfly to sting the flying horse, who threw his rider in reaction. Bellerophon flailed and fell back to the earth, as Pegasus continued his flight to Olympus.  (Pegasus was then used by Zeus as a pack horse for his thunderbolts.)

Bellerophon, who had fallen into a thicket of thorn bushes, barely survived and lived out the remainder of his life in misery as a blind and crippled man, on the Plain of Aleion (“wandering”), grieving for his lost life of fame and comfort, never straying near any of man’s gathering places.

While gathering the information on Bellerophon and his defeat of the Chimera, I came across some interesting little facts:

  • Bellerophon is a computer program used by geneticists and molecular biologists to detect invalid “chimera” genetic sequences.
  • A fictional drug in Mission: Impossible II is named Bellerophon and is the only cure for the Chimera virus.
  • Bellerophon astride Pegasus, as the first “Airborne” warrior, is the traditional symbol of British Airborne forces.
  • Bellerophon is the name of one of the planets in the “verse” in one of my favorite  science fiction TV series ever: Firefly. (Long live Joss Whedon!)
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The Hurting and The Rising

I have to admit, I’ve been somewhat addled of late. I have been outlining and writing the latest novel in my Progeny series and one of the things that I was most concerned about was I did not think I had an appropriate ending to the series.

WritingWhen we as writers sit down and bang out an idea, it is so much more than just a basic notion.  We have to have the details of the characters involved, the underlying theme of the tale, all the little pieces that make up the whole. To say that this can be a daunting task is the understatement of the century.  There are times when we will have this awesome idea and the pieces just won’t fit together, no matter how we try. 

We could force it, of course, but that would never work. Readers are smart. They see those false hurdles a mile away, and they can be quite unforgiving.  We must tell the story in the best possible manner, a manner which pulls the reader along without dragging them by the scruff of their neck. We have to tell the tale so that the reader wants to follow along, to step in the MC’s footsteps and feel what they feel, experience what they experience. The reader wants to hurt along with the characters, to understand why they hurt and feel that empathy, that compassion that makes us all human.

I’ve been struggling with the story in this second book, for several reasons. For one, I’ve learned a hell of a lot since I wrote the first book. I’ve gotten to know quite a few other writers, I’ve attended a writing conference and I have taken to studying the works of others that I’ve been reading with a more clinical eye. As well, I’ve been writing more. Not just fiction, but blogging more and trying to share some of the knowledge I’ve garnered over the years of preparing to write the story of Alexis, the daughter of Night.  My love of mythology is being put to good use and being put to the test.

More than this, my knowledge of the human condition has been put to the test and the writing of this story has forced me to take a deeper look at who we are and who we can be as humans and as individuals. Without understanding why we do what we do, why people do what they do, we cannot as writers relate a story in words that will touch those deep dark secret places of the human soul. This understanding comes with no little self-examination.  Looking into your own soul is a damned fine start to understanding the human condition. Not shying away from the hurt that has been caused to you, by you, is a perfect manner in which to observe and further understand why people do what they do.

The hurting that we go through, the pain that we experience over the course of our life, physical and emotional and psychological, is the bridge to our humanity. If we never experienced pain and suffering, how would we truly learn about ourselves? How would we ever learn to rise above that hurt? How would we grow? I should think that, without such travails, our growth would be particularly stunted.

This has been my concern over the last couple of months, as I develop more fully the continuation of Alexis’ story. My worry is that I am not going to properly relate the hurting and the rising that this character needs to go through in order to become a better her, so to speak.

Then, it hit me. One remarkable and leagues-deep resolution to my concerns. I found an ending that would serve as a fitting finale. Now, my concern is: can I pull it off?  It’s more complex and involved than I had originally planned.  I mean, after all, I set out to write a fun, fantasy adventure tale – basically a coming-of-age tale.  Not, mind you, a young adult novel, but something  bit more elevated than that.  I love the YA field and have read more than my fair share of such wondrous novels. What I wanted to do was to step up into the next level of young adulthood and see how late teens, early twenties adults would handle being thrown into a whirlwind of confusion and dangerous adventure. Alexis is a hell of a girl. Keats is one of my favorite characters. But, they are not children. They need serious adventure. Serious consequences. They need the hurting and the rising that we all, as adults, eventually go through (no matter how large or small the occurrence).

Now that I’ve gotten the idea, I can no more ignore it than I could stop breathing…or, stop writing.

I believe my next step is to run the idea by a couple of my trusted author buddies and see what they think.  Perhaps I am nuts to attempt something so “big”. Yet, how will I know my own capabilities if I do not test them fully? How will I give the readers the best that I can give them if I don’t try?

Dream big. Go big, or go home. Do it and do it right.

Right?

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Tide of Shadow

Red TomeI thought I would share the prologue of the second novel in my Progeny series today. It still needs a little work, but I feel it is evocative enough to deal with any commentary. :)


PROLOGUE

Carlos called no particular place home yet this location came as close as any. The day had waned and twilight was creeping in on the dilapidated ruins of the West Park Asylum in Surrey. Carlos, young and mocha-shinned, lingered here, in the silence of ruins, among the broken ovens and rusted frames of one of the long-unused stainless steel kitchens which sat in situ beneath the rows of skylight windows overhead. The baby blue of the atmosphere miles above shifted to a darker, navy blue as dusk closed in. Carlos knew Samuel would be here soon. He had seen it. What he had not seen, and could not for some reason, was what happened next. This fact, against his ability to foresee the future, worried him to no end. Such a blank spot in his own future had happened only once before, and that incident he chose not to dwell upon.

He shuffled closer to the center of the room, away from the deepening shadows which crept down from the walls and edged nearer to his position. The smell of the stagnant water that lay puddled beneath a leak in one of the skylights mingled with the rusty aroma of the chipped and crumbling red brick walls encasing the expansive space. Carlos noted the smells, once familiar and safe, now held a sense of foreboding that sent a chill tracing the length of his spine.

He felt the unnatural altering of the room’s temperature and wrapped his arms around himself in a less than comforting hug. The shadows mutated by the tall swinging doors through which the staff once entered and exited the kitchen. The darkness elongated, flowed against the natural shift of the failing light, and stretched outward toward Carlos. He watched as the peculiar tide of shadow then rejoined with the main body and deepened, forming an ink spot against the lighter tones of shadow.

The ink spot congealed and formed into a silhouette, which then sculpted itself into a tall, dark man who appeared to be in his mid-twenties. He had a scruff of days-old beard, the outline of a goatee thicker and darker than the rest, and not a hair on his head. Whether the baldness was by choice or genetics, Carlos could not tell. The man stepped from the shadows and closed on Carlos, who backed away, maintaining his distance from the man.

“You do me an injustice, Oracle,” the man said to Carlos, feigning offense and calling the boy by his disliked nickname. “I mean you no harm.”

“You lie,” Carlos replied, continuing the dance to keep his distance from the man.

“Do I?” Samuel stopped and stared. “Do you know who I am?” Carlos nodded. Samuel pursed his lips and nodded once in return. “I see. So, you have some idea of what I want?” Another nod. “Excellent. Then we should get down to business.” In the blink of an eye, Samuel melted into the shadows that surrounded them and faded from sight.

Carlos twirled in circles searching for any sign of Samuel’s reappearance. He darted for the swinging doors only to have the foreboding demigod emerge from the shadows, blocking his path.

“This is an interesting place,” Samuel stated, his hands clasped behind his back. He wore a dark blue jean jacket that fell open in front to reveal his black t-shirt. The jacket matched his jeans and, as he walked about the room, his engineer boots clomped on the cold concrete floor. “Did you know that this hospital could house upwards of two thousand patients at the height of its capacity? It even had its own railway for a period of time. But, that was removed by 1950. Can’t really tell it was even here any longer. Time decays all.” The man opened his arms in a sign of innocence, continuing to stroll in a circle around Carlos, his heavy boots always touching the shadows stretching out from the walls. “I told you, Oracle. I’m not here to harm you. However, if you test my patience again by attempting to leave before giving me what I want, my objectives may shift accordingly. Do we understand each other?”

Carlos watched Samuel’s eyes, dark and unblinking. He nodded in surrender and moved back to the center of the room and sat cross-legged on the cold concrete floor. Whatever his fate may now be, he was flying blind. Just like everyone else who was not the child of Apollo.

“Fine,” he said to the man. “I think I know what you want, but—“

“Allow me to enlighten you,” Samuel said, returning his hands to clasp behind his back. “I want to know about the Tome. The Red Tome. How do I find it?”

“I don’t know,” Carlos replied.

“I don’t believe you.”

“It’s true. I have no idea where it is.”

“Ah,” said Samuel, a smile creeping across his scruffy face, “but, I did not ask you where it was. No. I asked you how I find it. I know all of your little fortuneteller tricks. You can see so much.” Samuel paused in his movement and faced Carlos. “Try for me, Oracle. Try and do not fail.”

 Carlos realized what Samuel really wanted. The fear of what the request could mean drove cold chills down Carlos’ spine. He wasn’t even certain he could do what the man was asking. Even if he did, he was almost positive that it would be his last look into the future. He watched as Samuel tilted his head toward him, the man’s thoughts turning dark over what would be his next steps should Carlos refuse. Taking a deep breath, the son of Apollo nodded at Samuel and closed his eyes. He concentrated on slowing his breathing, difficult with such threat staring down at him. Nevertheless, he attempted to relax, to open his mind, to focus his thoughts.

Carlos’ head lolled down, chin to chest, as he swayed side-to-side seated upon the cold concrete. A hum emanated from him as he began to sing-song words as they came to him from some distant possibility, some future that may or may not occur. “Retrieve the Tome from nothingness and see,” he sang, “that what was the future shall never be.” The words echoed through the disused kitchen. Carlos’ eyes fluttered as he began to return from his precognizant trance.

“Hmnh,” Samuel murmured, his lips once again pursed in thought. “Interesting.”

Carlos opened and closed his eyes, clearing his head of the fuzziness which came as part and parcel of his visions. He noticed Samuel was pacing around the edge of the room once again, his eyes never leaving Carlos for more than a second or two. Carlos stood in order to face him, just as the man stopped and peered with purpose at him.

“You know who I am, so you have a clue as to what I am capable of. Correct?” Carlos nodded in response, afraid to say anything. Samuel returned the nod. “I ask you to be fully aware that my goal in coming here was not to do you any harm. I stated as much earlier. I will move on about on my journey, leaving you to your pitiful, solitary life here. However,” he continued, “should you find it necessary to inform any other person, living or dead, about our little visit, I will shift my priorities. At that point, make no mistake, my goal will be to do as much harm to you as I possibly can prior to releasing you from your so-called life. Do I make myself perfectly clear?”

Carlos nodded with enthusiasm as Samuel stepped back into the shadows and melted away into darkness, leaving the oracle to slump his shoulders in relief and apprehension. Samuel was on the same path as Alexis. Carlos knew that Alexis was not your average demigod. Still, she was young and inexperienced. He hoped that the daughter of night would survive the coming confrontation with Samuel. Not many did when crossing the son of Hades.

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Stealing Girls – A Demigod Tale

I remember when I was young; I never got into so much trouble as when I was running with my best bud.  Double trouble! That seems to have been the case with a couple of guys in Greek mythology, as well.

Pirithous was the son of Zeus and was the King of the Lapiths in Thessaly. Pirithous one day heard of some rumblings about this other guy, Theseus, who was supposedly so brave and strong in battle.

Kings were not usually known for their humility or peaceful manners. Pirithous was no different. He set out to rustle (steal) Theseus’ herd of cattle from Marathon, and did so successfully. Of course, Theseus set out after the thief. Eventually, the two met face to face and took to battling one another.  The fight was fierce and awesome. The two fought until they were both so impressed with one another that they took up a lifelong oath of friendship. (How many of us guys have encountered similar situations?)

So, remember when I mentioned that I always got into more trouble when running with a buddy?  Well, our two heroes came up with a wacky pledge to steal away with daughters of Zeus.  Hey, if you’re going to do something, you might as well go big, right? Theseus set his sights on the most beautiful woman known at the time, which was none other than Helen of Sparta – you know, “the face that launched a thousand ships?”

Together they set off and kidnapped Helen who, mind you, was only thirteen years old at the time.  Theseus planned to keep her until she became of age. The two left Helen with Theseus’ mother, Aethra, and set off to garner their next prize: Persephone. Pirithous had one-upped his friend by choosing not only a beautiful demigoddess, but also a married woman. The dangerous bit was that Persephone was married to none other than Hades, the lord of the Underworld.

The men set out for the underworld. There they encountered Hades, himself, who pretended to offer them hospitality and invited them to a great feast. However, as soon as the pair sat down, snakes coiled around their feet and the stones upon which they sat grew and attached themselves to their thighs. They were trapped.

Hades

Hades

You just don’t mess with Hades. Even though the greatest demigod hero ever, Heracles, managed to free Theseus from the stone, when he attempted to free Pirithous, the earth itself began to shake and shudder. The man had simply committed too great a crime, trying to steal the wife of one of the great gods for his own bride.

In addition to the eternal captivity of his friend, when Theseus managed to make it back to Athens, Helen’s twin brothers, Castor and Pollux (otherwise known as the Dioscuri) had come and taken Helen back to Sparta. The brothers had also kidnapped Aethra, as well as Pirithous’ sister Physadeia. The two women became handmaidens to Helen and eventually followed her to Troy (but that is a tale for another day).

So, what was the most dangerous thing you ever did while running with your best friend?

 

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Werewolves and Stars

We’ve seen how dark and tragic the tales of demigods can be in Greek mythology. Alas, today’s tale is no different. (Surprise!)

It seems that pretty much all of the demigods born of divine unions are destined to live difficult if not tragic lives. One would think that the offspring of the ruler of the gods, Zeus, would have it a bit easier.  Nope.  Take this tale for instance.

Artemis is one of the most widely revered of all of the Greek goddesses; in fact, some believe that she even predates the original Greek mythos. She was the virgin twin sister of Apollo, and served as the goddess of the hunt, the wilderness, wild animals, virginity and young girls. Like her brother she was unmatched her abilities with a bow and arrow. Her retinue consisted mostly of fauna and nymphs.

One of these nymphs was named Callisto, and she was a hottie, indeed. I suppose nymph is only a partially appropriate title, as Callisto was a princess. She was the daughter of Lycaon, the King of Arcadia (we’ll get to him shortly), and she took a vow of chastity upon joining Artemis’ retinue. But, all that begins well does not end well in the mythos of the Greeks.

Zeus lusted after Callisto and realizing he could not have her as himself, he disguised himself as Artemis, gained Callisto’s trust and then seduced (some say forcibly took) the girl. The result was two-fold: Callisto gave birth to a son named Arcas, and Hera (Zeus’ wife) and Artemis were so enraged (misplaced though it may have been, that they turned Callisto into a bear.

Hera would have done the same to Arcas, but Zeus stole the child away and hid him in the area of Greece ruled over by the boy’s maternal grandfather, Lycaon. Lycaon was not a particularly sane individual.  Arcas lived in safety until his grandfather, one day, placed him upon the burning alter as a sacrifice to the gods.  He railed at Zeus, “If you think you are so clever, make your son whole and unharmed.”

Needless to say, Zeus was pissed.  He did, indeed, make Arcas whole and safe again and then turned his anger upon Lycaon, turning him into the first werewolf.

After this event, Arcas became the new king of the land now called Arcadia in his honor. He, like his mother, became a great and revered hunter in the land.  One day he was out hunting and encountered  his mother (in bear form), who immediately recognized him and moved to embrace him. Arcas, of course, had no idea that this bear was hi mother and he moved to kill her with his bow and arrow.

Zeus, seeing this, took pity upon the two, preventing Arcas from killing his mother. He decided to place them together forever, in the heavens, where they remain today, as the constellations Ursa Major and Ursa Minor, the big and little bears.

Werewolves and stars, the tale of a demigod.