We have no ban on reading at the table in our house - if the reading is shared. How can good food and good stories be bad together? Besides, I find a combination of a good story and posh oil and vinegars means my children will eat platefuls of salad without complaint.
During the summer I read Sally Pomme Clayton and Jane Ray's lovely book Greek Myths: Stories of Sun, Stone, and Sea to them while they finished their tea. The reference to applause in that story reminded me of applause in the milonga.
There are different versions of the story of the musical competition between the god Apollo and the satyr Marsyas. Even the victory is not always clear - in some versions Apollo wins, in some Marsyas (briefly, at least), but in most of them (though not in Greek Myths), Marsyas dies in agony, victim of the jealous, vengeful god.
Over time, Marsyas has been represented in different ways because through the challenge or threat to power, and in the way he meets his end, Marsyas is a political figure. In some versions it is Marsyas who, with hubris, challenges Apollo. In that light by challenging a god Marsyas becomes a contributor to his own end. In a contrasting version it is Apollo or someone else who sets up the competition. Now Marsyas appears more an unwitting pawn or perhaps a knowing catalyst in a story that reveals Apollo's own weaknesses, leading him to torture and murder.
In one version of the Marsyas story, the competition appears to be going in Marsyas' favour until Apollo sings to accompany his lyre whereupon Marsyas complains that the addition of the voice is unfair. Apollo counters that using his voice is no different to Marsyas using his breath to animate his flute and if the one should be disallowed then so should the other, whereupon Apollo is declared victor.
Over time, Marsyas has been represented in different ways because through the challenge or threat to power, and in the way he meets his end, Marsyas is a political figure. In some versions it is Marsyas who, with hubris, challenges Apollo. In that light by challenging a god Marsyas becomes a contributor to his own end. In a contrasting version it is Apollo or someone else who sets up the competition. Now Marsyas appears more an unwitting pawn or perhaps a knowing catalyst in a story that reveals Apollo's own weaknesses, leading him to torture and murder.
In one version of the Marsyas story, the competition appears to be going in Marsyas' favour until Apollo sings to accompany his lyre whereupon Marsyas complains that the addition of the voice is unfair. Apollo counters that using his voice is no different to Marsyas using his breath to animate his flute and if the one should be disallowed then so should the other, whereupon Apollo is declared victor.
In some versions Apollo flays Marsyas for quarrelling. In other versions where the complaint is omitted, he is flayed because his better musicianship humiliates Apollo. Whichever version you prefer, although Marsyas dies, if legacy counts, it is Apollo who comes off worst, as is often the case with an abuse of power. The flaying of Marsyas, victim of Apollo's pique or jealous fury might make for great art (Titian) or rather gruesome poetry (Robin Robertson) but I prefer the ending in Greek Myths where in victory Marsyas is well-loved and inspires others. It is more subtle too because Apollo's presumption of victory in that story already shows his flaws. The flaying in the other versions only compounds them.
I am reminded of a recent conversation with a friend who made the point that the renegade is always killed in the end - and not only metaphorically. Christ most famously, Galileo managed to pull off his survival, but Giordano Bruno didn't. Gandhi stood up to the British although his assassination was by a Hindu nationalist. Perhaps most famously, Socrates, stinging gadfly who provoked thought in others was another who met a hastened end for speaking truth to power. It is no mere coincidence for me that the same man is also remembered for: "But I was never any one's teacher." (Apology, 33a).
In any mythological-type story, characters are archetypes, examples of types of people and as such are a way of seeing what might happen when these types interact under certain circumstances. Our interpretations of those interactions reveal truths about ourselves and others. It is not just about what happens overtly (in this case Apollo wins and Marsyas dies) but the longer legacy of that outcome because ideas persist for centuries. In this case, the idea might be those with power can be weak, fallible and cruel and the legacy of their actions can dog them - or any alternative reading you might care for.
In the real world Marsyas had an interesting afterlife . There was a statue of him in the Roman Forum, the area of public life - commerce, politics, law, religious worship, triumphal processions and gladiatorial sport. His statue was often found in the fora of other ancient cities. Some think it was a warning against arrogant presumption and pride. If you were wealthy and powerful with a position in business, law or administration you might set up a statue of Marsyas warning against hubris and the challenge to authority. You might even erect it to say, no matter what the circumstances, don't presume to win against authority, though it's hard to think of a better demonstration of hubris.
And yet, Marsyas was garlanded. "I warn you to know your place - but am garlanded." Does that not seem frivolous? Not only was the statue sometimes crowned with flowers it may have been sacred because a thief of that chaplet was once imprisoned. Courtesans gathered around the statue. Marsyas was in legend, a satyr, follower of Pan, god of the wild, of rustic music and the companion of nymphs. Pan himself was a son of Hermes, god of transition, of boundaries, of traveller. Or, he was a son of Dionysus (Bacchus for the Romans), god of wine, fertility, the theatre, ritual madness and religious ecstasy - all ways, one might say to pleasure but also to insight, of seeing further, or at least, differently. Marsyas has the air of the rebel about him and we need rebels not least to show the flaws in the established order. Is Marsyas a martyr, a rallying point, symbol of resistance, a symbol of truth against vested power and interest? But perhaps if you were an ordinary Roman you couldn't risk voicing that thought. Maybe a ring of flowers was a symbol of allegiance and as far as you could go.
The view of Marsyas is rather like the polarised views there are through history. Many years ago I talked with a kind Irishman about "rebels". "The patriots", you mean he said, smiling. William Wallace is another - rebel and renegade or patriot and freedom fighter depending on where you stood, where you still stand. Marsyas seems to stand between power and plebeian. Maybe he represents the idea that a challenge to authority can go either way. He reminds me of Janus, god not just of endings and beginnings, past and future but also of peace and of war.
I am reminded of a recent conversation with a friend who made the point that the renegade is always killed in the end - and not only metaphorically. Christ most famously, Galileo managed to pull off his survival, but Giordano Bruno didn't. Gandhi stood up to the British although his assassination was by a Hindu nationalist. Perhaps most famously, Socrates, stinging gadfly who provoked thought in others was another who met a hastened end for speaking truth to power. It is no mere coincidence for me that the same man is also remembered for: "But I was never any one's teacher." (Apology, 33a).
In any mythological-type story, characters are archetypes, examples of types of people and as such are a way of seeing what might happen when these types interact under certain circumstances. Our interpretations of those interactions reveal truths about ourselves and others. It is not just about what happens overtly (in this case Apollo wins and Marsyas dies) but the longer legacy of that outcome because ideas persist for centuries. In this case, the idea might be those with power can be weak, fallible and cruel and the legacy of their actions can dog them - or any alternative reading you might care for.
And yet, Marsyas was garlanded. "I warn you to know your place - but am garlanded." Does that not seem frivolous? Not only was the statue sometimes crowned with flowers it may have been sacred because a thief of that chaplet was once imprisoned. Courtesans gathered around the statue. Marsyas was in legend, a satyr, follower of Pan, god of the wild, of rustic music and the companion of nymphs. Pan himself was a son of Hermes, god of transition, of boundaries, of traveller. Or, he was a son of Dionysus (Bacchus for the Romans), god of wine, fertility, the theatre, ritual madness and religious ecstasy - all ways, one might say to pleasure but also to insight, of seeing further, or at least, differently. Marsyas has the air of the rebel about him and we need rebels not least to show the flaws in the established order. Is Marsyas a martyr, a rallying point, symbol of resistance, a symbol of truth against vested power and interest? But perhaps if you were an ordinary Roman you couldn't risk voicing that thought. Maybe a ring of flowers was a symbol of allegiance and as far as you could go.
The view of Marsyas is rather like the polarised views there are through history. Many years ago I talked with a kind Irishman about "rebels". "The patriots", you mean he said, smiling. William Wallace is another - rebel and renegade or patriot and freedom fighter depending on where you stood, where you still stand. Marsyas seems to stand between power and plebeian. Maybe he represents the idea that a challenge to authority can go either way. He reminds me of Janus, god not just of endings and beginnings, past and future but also of peace and of war.
The different ways Marsyas is represented or that his story is appropriated says so much about the teller. A work of art, a concept, a story that allows a variety of interpretation is one that fulfils one of the roles of art in life: to allow us to reflect on the kind of beings we are. The way we tell about something can say more than any actual facts. The story of Marsyas for me is a story of perspective, sister of empathy, both conduits for the kinds of truths we learn through the experience of others. Film, drama, fiction, stories, poems are facets of the same magic that allows us to swap our own perspective so that we may see through the eyes of another and learn from that experience.
The same happens when you dance in the embrace. You understand how your partner feels the music and wordlessly, you have, through the physical, the more-than-physical sense of who they are.
The same happens when you dance in the embrace. You understand how your partner feels the music and wordlessly, you have, through the physical, the more-than-physical sense of who they are.
