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Prometheus tricked Zeus into choosing the bones, and we got the steaks and chops and ribs and the deliciously damp offal, much to the god’s irritation, although you do have to wonder how the all-seeing one could have been deceived. It was here that Prometheus and Zeus came to an agreement about which parts of an animal should be sacrificed to the gods, and which retained by people for their own consumption. Dagli Orti/De Agostini Picture Library via Getty ImagesĪ short way west from Corinth is the village of Sicyon, once known as Mecone.
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While he was at it, Theseus cleared the route of murderous bandits, so I suppose we have him to thank for the ease with which we can now cruise along the glittering coast. And gazing down from these heights, you can see the route that Theseus took by foot, from his home in Troezen, a young man setting out to meet his father for the first time, King Aegeus of Athens. Oedipus was in Corinth, living happily with the people he thought were his parents, before he set out for Thebes hoping to avoid his fate. You can visit Corinth, even today, and climb to the summit of the citadel high above the old city (taking in the views to the Gulf of Megara far below, with its canal and the distant rumble of the modern town), and you can sit in the ruins of the temple of Aphrodite, just a stone’s throw from the sacred spring that erupted when Pegasus, the flying horse, struck the ground with his hoof. Thebes and Athens are just a day’s walk apart, and yet (like every city of the ancient Greek world) they had their own stories and founding legends, even if they shared a pantheon of Olympian gods.
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The fragmented terrain is said to be why the ancient Greek style of fighting emerged, and why they spent so much time at sea, and why their main foodstuffs were olives and fish, and why when the population grew they left to form colonies in other, less aggravating landscapes. The tortured topography of Greece, with its towering mountains and isolated valleys, means that everything is impossibly local. Konstantinos Tsakalidis/Bloomberg via Getty Images Of course they were, because how else could the immense honeycombed slabs have been slotted together, if not with the irresistible muscle power of one-eyed monsters? Or you can clamber to the top of the ruins of Tiryns, whose walls were built by Cyclopes. But you can still visit Mycenae, the city of gold, and stand at the Lion Gate in the place where King Agamemnon stood after his return from Troy, and imagine his wife, Clytemnestra, greeting him with smiles and murder in her heart. Of course, the stories were just as often swept in from outside Greece, or brought back, or merged and cross-pollinated with other stories from other places. It is thrilling to be able to visit the places where the Greek myths emerged. What we do know is that the man’s name was Erysichthon, and he was a king (or perhaps a prince) and he lived in Thessaly, a region in north eastern Greece that is still lushly forested, at least in parts, despite centuries of intensifying exploitation. The myths are slippery and change their shapes and meaning, to suit each age, although the message of this one seems clear… and uncomfortably topical.
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In fact, like all these ancient stories, there is more than one version. This all took place a long time ago (no one knows when). And then, at last, with his estate in ruins and his stomach burning, lusting for food he didn’t need, useless, empty, ceaseless consumption, when everything else was gone, the man had no choice but to eat himself. He consumed everything in the house, his horses too, corn, mules, wheat, bread, fruit, even the house cat. The man woke hungry, and started eating, and called out for food, and more food, but however much he ate, it was never going to be enough. He felled the tree anyway, and that night Demeter sent Hunger to him, a creeping, emaciated being that latched onto the man’s open mouth, and breathed an unassuageable need for food into his stomach and guts and deep into his veins. But the man would not step away, not even when he reached the largest, most sacred tree of all, and the goddess of the harvests, Demeter herself, appeared to warn him not to touch it. So he went to the sacred grove, where the tallest trees grew, and he and his servants swung their axes, until the nymphs who lived there begged him to stop, because when their trees died, so did they. There was once a man in Greece who longed to build himself an immense banqueting hall, where he could sit and feast all day and night. Education Images/Universal Images Group via Getty Images