On returning the Parthenon Marbles

On the 11th of June, 2012, Cadogan Hall was the stage for a debate hosted by Intelligence Squared on one of the most controversial political landmines between Great Britain and modern Greece: the Parthenon Marbles. The hall hosted a debate--two in favor, two against--the return of said marbles to Greece with the goal of convincing at least the audience of their standpoint. Speaking against the motion were Felipe Fernández-Armesto, a William P Reynolds Professor of History at the University of Notre Dame, and Tristram Hunt, broadcaster, historian and newspaper columnist, and the Labour MP for Stoke-on-Trent Central. Speaking in favor of the motion were Andrew George, Chair of Marbles Reunite, and Liberal Democrat MP for St Ives, and actor, writer, comedian, and broadcaster, Stephen Fry.

556 people watched the 45 minute debate. In a poll taken before the event asking audience members if they would like the marbles to be returned to Greece, 196 voted for, 202 against and 158 didn’t know. Then this happened:

 

The Parthenon Marbles, also known as the Elgin Marbles, is a collection of classical Greek marble sculptures, inscriptions and architectural members that originally were part of the Parthenon and other buildings on the Acropolis of Athens. Thomas Bruce, the 7th Earl of Elgin obtained a controversial permit from the Ottoman authorities to remove pieces from the Parthenon while serving as the British ambassador to the Ottoman Empire from 1799 to 1803.

 

The Parthenon Marbles acquired by Elgin include seventeen figures from the statuary from the east and west pediments of the Parthenon, fifteen (of the original 92) of the metope panels depicting battles between the Lapiths and the Centaurs, as well as 247 feet (75 meters) of the original 524 feet (160 meters) of the Parthenon Frieze which decorated the horizontal course set above the interior architrave of the temple. As such, they represent more than half of what now remains of the surviving sculptural decoration of the Parthenon. Elgin's acquisitions also included objects from other buildings on the Athenian Acropolis: a Caryatid from Erechtheum; four slabs from the parapet frieze of the Temple of Athena Nike; and a number of other architectural fragments of the Parthenon, Propylaia, Erechtheum, the Temple of Athena Nike, and the Treasury of Atreus.

 

As Stephen Fry explains during the debate, the legality of the purchase of these marbles is controversial at best. Yes, the documents were signed by the leaders of Greece at the time, but these were the occupation. As Fry so beautifully explains, it would have been like purchacing the Nightwatch from the Dutch during Nazi German occupation; the Nightwatch would not have rightfully belonged to the Germans at the time of purchase and I am quite sure it would have been returned to my country as soon as possible after the war. So, why are the Parthenon Marbles still in a British museum?

 

There are many reasons for and against returning the marbles to Athens, where a museum was opened in 2009 which would be capable of showcasing these precious items. I'm going to borrow Wikipedia for a list of the pro's and con's tied to returning the marbles:

 

 Rationale for returning to Athens:

• The main stated aim of the Greek campaign is to reunite the Parthenon sculptures around the world in order to restore "organic elements" which "at present remain without cohesion, homogeneity and historicity of the monument to which they belong" and allow visitors to better appreciate them as a whole;
• Presenting all the extant Parthenon Marbles in their original historical and cultural environment would permit their "fuller understanding and interpretation";
• Precedents have been set with the return of fragments of the monument by Sweden, the University of Heidelberg, Germany, the Getty Museum in Los Angeles and the Vatican;
• That the marbles may have been obtained illegally and hence should be returned to their rightful owner;
• Returning the Parthenon sculptures (it should be noted that Greece is requesting only the return of sculptures from this particular building) would not set a precedent for other restitution claims because of the distinctively "universal value" of the Parthenon;
• Safekeeping of the marbles would be ensured at the New Acropolis Museum, situated to the south of the Acropolis hill. It was built to hold the Parthenon sculpture in natural sunlight that characterises the Athenian climate, arranged in the same way as they would have been on the Parthenon. The museum's facilities have been equipped with state-of-the-art technology for the protection and preservation of exhibits;
• The friezes are part of a single work of art, thus it is nonsensical that fragments of this piece be scattered across different locations, just as it would be nonsensical, for example, to have pieces of the Mona Lisa scattered across different locations;
• Casts of the marbles would be just as able to demonstrate the cultural influences which Greek sculptures have had upon European art as would the original marbles, whereas the context with which the marbles belong cannot be replicated within the British museum.

 

Rationale for retaining in London:

• The assertion that fulfilling all restitution claims would empty most of the world's great museums – this has also caused concerns among other European and American museums, with one potential target being the famous bust of Nefertiti in Berlin's Neues Museum; in addition, portions of Parthenon marbles are kept by many other European museums, so the Greeks would then establish a precedent to claim these other artworks;
• Some scholars argue that the marbles were saved from what would have been severe damage from pollution and other factors, which could have perhaps destroyed the marbles, if they had been located in Athens the past few hundred years;
• Experts agree that Greece could mount no court case because Elgin was granted permission by what was then Greece's ruling government and a legal principle of limitation would apply, i.e. the ability to pursue claims expires after a period of time prescribed by law;
• More than half the original marbles are lost and therefore the return of the Elgin Marbles could never complete the collection in Greece. In addition, many of the marbles are too fragile to travel from London to Athens;
• Display in the British museum puts the sculptures in a European artistic context, alongside the work of art which both influenced and was influenced by Greek sculpture. This allows parallels to be drawn with the art of other cultures;
• The notion that the Parthenon sculptures are an item of global rather than solely Greek significance strengthens the argument that they should remain in a museum which is both free to visit, and located in one of Europe's most visited cities. The government of Greece intends to charge visitors of the New Acropolis Museum, where they can view the marbles (as of 2011 the price is €5).
• A legal position that the museum is banned by charter from returning any part of its collection.

I have made it clear before that I feel any piece of ancient Hellenic art should--at least on paper--be returned to their country of origin. I feel that way about all historical art. That doesn't mean I feel that all pieces should be physically returned to their country of origin; not even Greece needs al they pottery returned to them and every statue ever made; taking care of this classical art takes time, money, and space, and especially Greece right now would struggle to provide all three right now if the whole world suddenly gave back all their art pieces. That said, there are exceptions--like the Parthenon Marbles. these are so specific, so telling of history, that they should return to where they were first created. The Parthenon Marbles belong in Athens. The British Museum in London can put on display casts of the marbles, or a movie of the time they stent in Britain, or a 3D print. They wouldn't have to be removed from the museum all together, but these marbles--I feel--need to go home.

 

It's been a long fight to get the marbles returned, and so far, nothing has happened. As for the debate: the audience was asked to take the same poll after the debate. This time, the poll showed a majority of 384 voting in favour of returning the marbles. Where do you stand on the issue? And have your viewpoints changed after watching the debate?

• Sunday, November 17, 2013
  current affairs modern Greece Temples

Update on the Canadian chaplain situation

Remember back in October of last year, when I reported that Canada's Public Safety Minister let part-time non-Christian chaplains go? In a stunning display of inclusivity, the federal government cancelled the contracts of non-Christian chaplains at federal prisons across the country because Public Safety Minister Vic Toews isn't convinced part-time chaplains from other religions are an appropriate use of taxpayer money. As a solution to letting the part-time non-Christian chaplains go, the remaining full-time chaplains in prisons would now provide interfaith services and counselling to all inmates. Needless to say, that sounded like a bad plan to me.

By April, the situation was restored to much of its previous state in the face of a lawsuit reported on by The Wild Hunt. In a press statement, the government expressed that they were still looking to change the system:

"The federal government is restoring religious counselling services to some non-Christian federal prisoners in British Columbia, but officials deny they are reversing cuts made last year. [...] Instead, media relations adviser Sara Parkes said, the government is taking interim measures to meet the needs of inmates until they can roll out a revised plan for spiritual services."

Plans were then revealed that the entire chaplain service program would be out-sourced to a single provider, a decicion now decided upon. Canada.com reports that the system is getting a significant overhaul:

"The federal government has awarded a private company a $2-million contract to deliver religious counseling to prisoners, including minority faith services, as part of a system overhaul quietly rolled out over the last six months.

[...] Kairos Pneuma Chaplaincy Inc., a company started by a handful of current and former federal prison chaplains in direct response to the request for proposals issued in May, won the bid. Since October, about 30 full and part-time chaplains of all denominations, including Wicca and including many who worked in the federal prison system perviously, have been serving prisoners across the country, according to company president John Tonks.

There are still about 81 chaplains working in the federal prison system and those employed by Kairos only account for about 22 per cent of the total. Most, he said, are still operating under multiple individual contracts signed between various faith communities and the government. But as those contracts expire, he explained, their positions will be replaced under the single contractor. Kairos, which was among at least three bidders, has the contract for a year and will have to bid again as the changes roll out over three years."

On the backlash from the decisions made by Public Safety minister Vic Toews, Tonks said:

"[I]t became clear that the government “had to recant” on its plan to slash all part-time chaplains. It wasn’t just about Wiccans, he said, adding the move created a “crisis” within the prison system. There was “restlessness” among offenders over access to the faith leaders of their choice, he said, including among Quebec’s Protestant minority that was also serviced by part-time chaplains."

The new system affords more equity among chaplains across the country in terms of pay, benefits and pension, and according ot the article, there’s also more flexibility to balance the workforce in terms of the ratio of men to women and the various religious denominations.

Last year, the prison chaplain program was said to cost about $6.4 million, $1.3 million of which covered part-time chaplains. The new contract is $2-million worth, making this new decision a strong one in the name of savings, but perhaps a questionable one in terms of uniformity. We will have to see how this scenario plays out, and I will--of course--keep you updated.

• Saturday, November 16, 2013
  Christianity current affairs interfaith Paganism

PBP: Witches and witchcraft in the Odysseia

I am of the rather strong opinion that modern witchcraft has no place in Hellenismos--especially when that witchcraft is defined as acts which allow humanity influence over their lives and those of others, outside of the realm of the Gods. I call anything else 'praying', and if you need tools for that, than I take no issue besides the fact that it's non-Traditional--save for when it is. As a blogger with that opinion, I sometimes get asked 'but what about all the witchcraft in the classics?', and it's a good question. I shall attempt to explain today why I feel the two are not the same, and how these displays of magical abilities are actually proving my point for me. Before I do so, though, I want to stress that I take no issue with witchcraft itself; I practiced it for years--abide sporadically--and think it's a beautiful, powerful, thing. This post is about witchcraft in Hellenismos, nothing else.

The most famous witch in Hellenic mythology is undoubtedly Kirkê (Κιρκη)--better known by her Roman name, Circe. She is the woman whom Odysseus comes upon on the island Aiaia, who turns his men into pigs, and keeps Odysseus with her--and in her bed, no less--for a year before she helps him get back to his quest to return home. The account of Kirkê is one of the founding myths for the modern witch stereotypes: she is the evil temptress, free with her sexuality, and freeer with the magic that women possess by nature. She seduces Odysseus while beguiling his men, transforming them into docile animals--de-humanizing them, and stripping them of their masculinity. In the end, Odysseus overcomes her, and leaves, outside of her grasp forever. At least, that is the modern interpretation of her character.

Kirkê, in the time of Hómēros was not evil at all, yet she was dangerous. Like all men of his time, Hómēros understood very little of women, knowing mostly that they did strange things to the minds and body's of men when men laid their eyes upon them. Remember; ancient Hellas was a place where adult men and adult women rarely happened upon each other in a setting where they were allowed to interact. For men, women were almost an entitrely different species.

Kirkê, when looked at through the lens of ancient Hellenic society, is Odysseus' superior by far. It may seem a bit off-topic to go into this, but I must to make my point. Kirkê is the daughter of the Sun God Helios--which makes her a Goddess in her own right, but a more accurate term would be 'Nymph', putting her in control of nature. Her pedigree--by default--means that Odysseus can never master her, as Odysseus may be the favorite of the Gods, but he is not divine himself. Looking into the account in book ten of the Odysseia, there are a variety of ways in which Odysseus is established as respecting and enjoying Kirkê's influence in his life, and even more ways in which it is established Kirkê is his superior:

• Kirkê is of divine blood, while Odysseus is human
• Odysseus needs moly, a herb which acts as a potion, provided by Hermes in warning, to counter the effects of Kirkê's potion
• Kirkê is established as an expert in her craft, while Odysseus is unskilled enough to need the help of the Gods
• Kirkê is shown as a good woman--and a good wife--by stressing her expertise in crafts
• When Kirkê lifts her rod to Odysseus, he takes it as a thread, bringing out his sword to meet her--in short, he finds her powerful and worthy enough to percieve her as a threat
• The two come to an agreement and an oath which they can both live with, with the purpose of establishing thrust between them
• Kirkê is shown as keeping her oath--something very honorable in ancient Hellenic mythology and society
• Odysseus is shown enjoying the time he has spent with Kirkê, as equals
• Kirkê keeps her word, and lets Odysseus and his men go without harm; she even gives him good advice
• When she transforms his men back, they are younger and more powerful than before

So, what of her magic? Kirkê is a Goddess whose powers manifest through herbs; what she does to men is not much different as many other--more powerful--Gods do unto humans as well with just a thought; Hellenic mythology is full of humans who get turned into animals (or plants) for their protection, or for the protection of the God in question. It's important to note that in the Odysseia, Kirkê's 'victims' are happy and domesticated; they are friendly and curious to visitors and Kirkê alike.

Kirkê's superiority to Odysseus matters, because it takes her away from her being a 'temptress' and inherently evil. Being allowed to spend a year with her is an honor to Odysseus in the same way sexual advances of a (male) God upon a mortal was considered an honor--or at least a privilege of the deity in question. In fact; Kirkê's status over Odysseus takes her away from being a witch in the modern sense; she is a Goddess, and as someone lower in standing, Odysseus' wishes are something she can take into advisement but only needs to agree upon out of a sense of honor, not because her magical hold over him has broken. She never controls Odysseus--the moly establishes that--and they work out an agreement where they are on roughly equal footing, with Kirkê forever having the upper hand, but bound by her personal honor and oath to Odysseus. Her magic--her divinity--is made a moot point between them.

If we look at Kalypsô (Καλυψω), another Nymph-Goddess in the Odysseia, we can see the similarities between her and Kirkê, but also the obvious differences. Like with Kirkê, Odysseus makes Kalipsô swear an oath for his safety, but their truce is shaky one; Kalypsô is not a better witch, though, she is a worse woman. It is not her magic that Odysseus mistrusts, but her. Kalipsô is over-emotional and willing to push the boundaries of her oath whenever she can. Kirkê, on the other hand, is emotionally stable, and does not burden Odysseus with her sadness at his leaving. She helps him along, makes him and his men better, and offers advice and prayers to the Gods. Kalipsô only cares about keeping Odysseus with her, and she keeps him for a much longer period of time. She also curses the Gods for her faith in life. She is a trickster, and Odysseus does not trust her--but again, this is not to do with her witchcraft, but her person. By ancient Hellenic standards, Kalipsô is an undesirable woman due to her emotions and trickery, but it is separated from her powers, both in her character, as in the way she is viewed by Odysseus.

There are also male characters in the Odysseia who possess 'magic'. Aeolus (Αἴολος) is the son of Hippotes, who was the son of Mimas, who was the son of the first Aeolus, who, in turn, was the son of Hellen, the daughter of Deukalion and Pyrrha. He was the Keeper of the Winds in Hellenic mythology, and in the Odysseia, he is first welcoming to Odysseus and offers him the power of the winds. When he squanders it, however, Aeolus refuses any further help and nearly de-humanizes Odysseus by focusing on his humanity in a highly negative way--something Kirkê never needed to do, because her status was already well established--and so was his. Aeolus is technically human, but his power is established as divine, not magical by today's standards; in later works, he is even made into a minor God so the link between his powers and divinity is more obvious.Again, his personality is not tied to his power; Aeolus is a petty man, not because of his magic, but despite of it.

Proteus (Πρωτεύς) in the Odysseia is already a God, but Herodotos traces his line back to the kings of ancient Egypt. In the Odysseia, Proteus has the power to transform himself into frightening shapes--a trait he shares with many Gods who can and will change their shape at will--and thus his powers are not magical either, but divine.

In conclusion, the Odysseia gives plenty of reasons why the words 'witch' and 'witchcraft' are dangerous for modern interpretation. These powers--and those that use them--are established as divine, taking these powers fully outside of the realm of humanity. Yes, there was 'magic' and 'witchcraft' in ancient Hellas and its mythology, but not in the way we know it now; this was divine magic; a manifestation of a trait major Gods manifest with a thought. These lesser deities require a medium to manifest their powers--especially in the case of Kirkê and Kalipsô--but their powers are still the powers of a God. This is exactly why I feel we, as Hellenists, should pray to the Gods for any aid we might require, and blessings we would wish upon our lives; to practice magic ourselves would be to equate ourselves with the (minor) Gods, and Hellenismos is clear upon the status of humans: we are human, not divine. To practice magic, is to practice hubris, and that is decidedly dangerous in a Hellenistic context.

• Friday, November 15, 2013
  ancient Hellenic culture Calypso Circe herodotos Hómēros Magick Mythology 101 Odysseia Odysseus Pagan Blog Project

Do we celebrate the Pompaia?

The ancient Hellenic religion was practiced mostly outdoors. Especially state festivals were exposed to the elements--they had to be, as a procession to the site of the ritual was a large part of the gathering. The months of late fall and early winter are therefor relatively light on the festival agenda--Maimakterion, the month we are in now, wasn't even on the sacrificial calendar of Erchia, for example. This could have at least two other reasons: most of the harvesting was done, so food was assured or there was nothing that could be done to decrease the shortage, and with the fall of winter, warfare came to a halt; the seas were too rough to go on campaigns and it would soon be too cold to exist comfortably in a war camp. Seeing as these two reasons were the major ones to have festivals, these months are quiet ones. In the Athenian calendar, only two festivals are attested to take place this month, and both are very minor. Today, we speak of just one: the Pompaia.

Let start with something obvious we do not know: the actual date of the festival. We know it must be somewhere in the beginning of the month, but that is about it. The tenth is a decided upon date for a festival that was not originally celebrated by the people of Athens, but solely by its priests. Potentially, it was only celebrated by the priests of Zeus.

What we do know is that the Pompaia--like many festivals at this time of year--was linked to purification. It was one of the festivals that, by Classical times, had already lost much of its original meaning, but which was repeated year after year because it had always been repeated year after year--and in general these had been good years. Not having the rite on the calendar could have devastating effects, so it was performed.

Very few details remain: we know that the sacrifice was a sheep. Without further explination, it was most likely white. If the rite followed the standard practice of Hellenic ritual, the sheep was led to the altar--most likely that of Zeus (Meilichios)--in procession and then sacrificed. The animal was skinned and the fleece cleaned. At that point, a second procession took place--this time with the fleece. The fleece--the 'Diòs Koidion', as it was called, was said to have purifying and other magical qualities that would rub off on he who interacted with it, if he stood on it with his left foot.

In fact, a sheep skin was used in the Eleusian Mysteries in this faship to absolve those who had a lot of guilt to carry around--or a lot of grief. The Homeric Hymn to Demeter mentions her sitting down in a chair covered by a fleece, and there is also artwork of initiates shrowded in a fleece.

The sheep skin was most likely not connected to Zeus at the start of the practice; as we have seen, it had much stronger ties to other deities. The Pompaia rite simply called for a sheep skin. The connection with Zeus most likely happened through assimilation: the rite fell in a month where people prepared for winter and where the weather got harsher. As such, Zeus had a major impact on the inhabitants of Athens; he controls the weather after all. The sheep from which the skin was used became sacrificed to Him as an appeasement, and then the ritually charged skin made its way through the city.

In the same fashion, the kērukeion (κηρύκειον)--better known as the kaduceus--the snake-entwined staf that was the symbol of Hermes, was carried through the city. Most likely Hermes was not part of the actual rite; the kērukeion, like the Diòs Koidion, was a powerful symbol which was used to offer protection and purification to the city now winter was upon them. After all, the kērukeion was said to ward off all evil--and the cold, dark, days of winter most certainly had those. Hermes was added through the procession solely by association, but it is doubtful that He also recieved an animal sacrifice.

The Pompaia--meaning 'to exorcise'--was not popular, and in general these minor festivals were performed by the priests, for the city, without its inhabitants taking part. A small group of priests most likely walked the city with the objects and those who came upon the group would have said their prayers, spoke their wishes, and paid their respects. Yet, they were not included in the ceremony. This rite fell to the priests, so they could ask the Gods to continue placing their blanket of protection over the city.

So, what is a modern Hellenist to do with this festival? Little, I think. I will sacrifice a libation of diluted red wine to Zeus, gift Him a bit of wool, and pray that the Gods watch over my city and my family in the dark months to come. That is all I would see an ancient Hellenic family do at this time of the year. So yes, I will celebrate the Pompaia, but most certainly not as it was celebrated in ancient Athens.

• Thursday, November 14, 2013
  ancient Hellenic culture Athens Erkhia festivals Hellenismos 101 Hermes Zeus Zeus Meilichios

Constellation Ophiuchus: the snake-holder

It's been a while since I last tackled a constellation. Sorry about that. I am happy to announce we have reached the 'O''s, which means there are just fourteen left after this one, and thirty-two behind us. There will, however, be a bonus at the end. The constellation Ophiuchus (Ὀφιοῦχος) has has had its stars interpreted in a number of ways throughout the years, and the Hellenic-era interpretations are mostly lost to us. Hyginus is our primary source on this constellation, and he was a Roman man. Lets hope he built upon existing opinion.

Ophiuchus has known many interpretation, but was almost solely called 'Serpent-holder'. In the night's sky, he is located above Scorpio, and holds in his hands a serpent which coils about his body. Hyginus, in his 'Astronomica' gives us five possible men this snake holder could represent: Karnabon, Herakles, Triopas, Phorbas, and Asklēpiós. I will let Hyginus speak for a moment:

"Many have called him Carnabon, king of the Getae, who lived in Thrace. He came into power at the time when it is thought grain was first given to mortals. For when Ceres was distributing her bounties to men, she bade Triptolemus, whose nurse she had been, go around to all the nations and distribute grain, so that they and their descendants might more easily rise above primitive ways of living. He went in a drgon car, and is said to have been the first to use one wheel, so as not to be delayed in his journey. When he came to the king of the Getae, whom we mentioned above, he was at first hospitably received. Later, not as a beneficent and innocent visitor, but as a most cruel foe, he was seized by treachery, and he who was ready to prolong the lives of others, almost lost his own life. For at the order of Carnabon one dragon was killed, so that Tiptolemus might not hope his dragon car could save him when he realized an ambush was being prepared. But Ceres is said to have come there, and restored the stolen chariot to the youth, substituting another dragon, and punishing the king with no slight punishment for his malevolent attempt. For Hegesianax says that Ceres, for men’s remembrance, pictures Carnabon among the stars, holding a dragon in his hands as if to kill it. He lived so painfully that he brought on himself a most welcome death.

Others point out that he is Hercules, killing in Lydia near the river Sagaris a snake which kept destroying many men and stripping the river banks of grain. In return for this deed, Omphale, the queen of that region, sent him back to Argos loaded with gifts, and because of his bravery he was placed by Jove among the constellations.

Some, too, have said that he is Triopas, king of the Thessalians, who, in trying to roof his own house, tore down the temple of Ceres, built by the men of old. When hunger was brought on him by Ceres for this deed, he could never afterward be satisfied by any amount of food. Last of all, toward the end of his life, when a snake was sent to plague him, he suffered many ills, and at last winning death, was put among the stars by the will of Ceres. And so the snake, coiling round him, still seems to inflict deserved and everlasting punishment.

Polyzelus the Rhodian, however, points out that this is Phorbas, who was of great assistance to the Rhodians. The citizens called their island, overrun by a great number of snakes, Ophiussa. In this multitude of beasts was a snake of immense size, which had killed many of them; and when the deserted land began finally to lack men, Phorbas, son of Triopas by Hiscilla, Myrmidon’s daughter, when carried there by a storm, killed all the beasts, as well as that huge snake. Since he was especially favored by Apollo, he was put among the constellations, shown killing the snake for the sake of praise and commemoration. And so the Rhodians, as often as they go with their fleet rather far from their shores, make offerings first for the coming of Phorbas, that such a happening of unexpected valor should befall the citizens as the opportunity for glory which brought Phorbas, unconscious of future praise, to the stars.

Many astronomers have imagined that he is Aesculapius, whom Jupiter [Zeus], for the sake of Apollo, put among the stars. For when Aesculapius was among men, he so fare excelled the rest in the art of medicine that it wasn’t enough for him to have healed men’s diseases unless he could also bring back the dead to life. He is said most recently, according to Eratosthenes to have restored to life Hippolytus who had been killed by the injustice of his stepmother and the ignorance of his father. Some have said that by his skill Glaucus, son of Minos, lived again. Because of this, as for a sin, Jove struck and burned his house with a thunderbolt, but because of his skill, and since Apollo was his father, put him among the constellations holding a snake.

Certain people have said that he holds the snake for the following reason. When he was commanded to restore Glaucus, and was confined in a secret prison, while meditating what he should do, staff in hand, a snake is said to have crept on to his staff. Distracted in mind, Aesculapius killed it, striking it again and again with his staff as it tried to flee. Later, it is said, another snake came there, bringing an herb in its mouth, and placed it on its head. When it had done this, both fled from the place. Where upon Aesculapius, using the same herb, brought Glaucus, too, back to life. And so the snake is put in the guardianship of Aesculapius and among the stars as well. Following his example, his descendants passed the knowledge on to others, so that doctors make use of snakes." [II.14]

The snake that is being wrangled by our mystery man is actually not part of the constellation Ophiuchus: it's a separate one named Serpens, which we will get to a little later on. Linked to Serpens, the constellation Ophiuchus wasn't known under that name in ancient Roman times, but took the title 'Serpentarius', which also means 'Snake-Holder', or 'Snake-Bearer'.

The Sun passes through the constellation between November 30 and December 17, which is why some astrologers consider Ophiuchus to be the thirteenth sign of the zodiac. It is, however, not included in most astrological zodiacs, and the saying confuses sign with constellation. The constellation is visible at latitudes between +80° and −80°, and best visible at 21:00 (9 p.m.) during the month of July.

• Wednesday, November 13, 2013
  Asklēpiós astronomy Constellation series Ptolemy

The God Graveyard, revisited

A little short of two weeks ago, the AHA Wisconsin put up a display of (paper) tombstones with names, images, year of birth, year of death, and a short description of many popular Pagan and Non-Pagan Gods. Needless to say, this did not go over well in the Pagan community. Many Pagan blogs, including many in the Hellenistic community, have picked up the story, and the blog post has been commented up 170 times at the time of writing, which is about 170 times more than most of the other blog posts. Most of these comments are from Pagans and range from respective disagreement to all-out attack. The few voices in favor of this display were easily drowned out. I wrote my thoughts on the display here.

I have been keeping my eye on the blog, hoping for a reaction from the AHA members themselves. I am still really interested in hearing about the how's and why's of this display, because while I think I understand the fundaments of it, it was still a badly thought out plan. Yesterday, Sam Erickson, who holds the Outreach Chair in AHA, posted a comment on the reaction the display garnered as part of a larger update:

"This display was placed on Bascom Hill last Wednesday, October 30th. The halloween-themed graveyard featured hundreds of "gravestones" of gods that are no longer worshiped in large numbers as they once were. We then posed the simple question: how long will the gods of today last?

The response to this display was stunning. For more than a day, we were the top link on the subreddit r/atheism. We were also picked up on the popular blog The Friendly Atheist, and many other news sources. These sites combined led to nearly 150,000 views on our blog post and a 26,000% increase in activity on our Facebook page.

Our display even grew angry responses from many pagans around the world! Because it's not a proper atheism display unless you piss a lot of people off..."

Well, if I didn't feel insulted before--which I didn't, by the way, because the display wasn't meant as a dig towards Pagans--I sure feel that way now. From what I gather, atheism refers to the rejection of belief in the existence of deities. I think that's a valid view; it's not mine, but I understand it. As far as I am aware, being an atheist does not give you license to belittle and make fun of those who have faith, and this reaction reeks of both.

In my opinion, 'pissing a lot of people off' should never be a goal of an action you partake in, and even less should it be a goal of your organization. To state proudly that you have seen your numbers go up and then downplay the reason why these numbers went up so much is not only immature, but also unethical. You see, it's fantastic that you have seen a 26,000% increase in activity, but most of it was due to annoyance, outrage, and even anger. So how, exactly, is this a good thing?

I don't make fun of atheists. I don't judge them, I don't look down on them, I don't try to convert them into believers. Why would I? All I would appreciate in return is the exact same courtecy. This is something that seems beyond the AHA at this time.

I must make a note of many of the wonderful atheists who commented on the God Graveyard post made by the AHA. While some of them agreed with the initial display, they mostly spoke up against the condemnation that appeared in said comments by fellow atheists.

The AHA makes note of their Facebook page, which has even more posts along the lines of the one on the blog. It also has a few more lines of explination about the display itself, hidden away in the comments. This one, for example, in response to critisism about the display itself:

"The object of this exhibition was certainly not to insult anyone, and we're sorry if you felt that it was insulting to you. If anything, we wanted to bring to light the many, many alternative gods and goddesses that have been worshiped over the years. Some people forget that Jesus, Allah, and Yahweh aren't the only options, and that what you believe is certainly not universal. I hope you see where we're coming from, and of course we support everyone's right to believe in whatever deity they chose. 

In our culture, we talk about Greek and Roman myths, but not as an attempt to disparage or insult the people of those cultures. What is myth to someone can of course be considered true by someone else, and we absolutely don't judge anyone by that. Our only goal here was to make people think, and come to their own conclusion. If you've done that, and are happy with your beliefs, then more power to you."

And this one, for example, in reply to the question of 'what constitutes a 'dead god', especially if people still actually worship them?' :

"While we admit that, due to time constraints, we didn't really talk about how to define a 'dead' god before making all of our gravestones, we still believe we were justified in including the gods that we did.

Our sign said "Once worshipped by entire civilizations, now only myths." Perhaps we should have said "now considered myths". The fact is that every god that we included was once worshipped by an entire civilization, but those civilizations have since died, and their gods are now no longer worshipped at all, or by nowhere near as many people as before.

As atheists, we believe ALL gods are myths, but we chose to only include the gods that are now considered myths by the majority of human beings. The Judeo-Christian, Hindu, Islamic, etc gods are undoubtedly at the height of their worship, and thus can be considered "the gods of today". We then posed a simple question: looking at all these gods that were once worshiped widely, but have since ceased being worshiped altogether or at least lost a significant amount of followers, how much longer will the current gods 'live' or remain in the mainstream?

Thank you for your concern. We did not mean to offend anyone, and will take a decidedly different approach when it comes to wording our signs next time we put on this event in an attempt to not offend anyone."

The AHA is entirely unapologetic, downplaying the impact of their display and placing blame on those of faith for taking offense to something the AHA should have realized in advance would cause offense. The last comment on there about the God Graveyard dates back to November 1, when many Pagans had not discovered the news of the display yet. Once the negative comments started pouring in, the AHA became silent. It might have just been unfortunate timing on their part, but perhaps even they realized it would be a sad move to brush off the outrage of various faith groups over a badly thought-out display. Until yesterday, of course.

So, by now, I am a little pissed off; I still feel they had the right to put up those grave markers, but at least own up to unwittingly insulting the believes of many. Don't take a stab at them after the fact. I don't say this often, but I mean it today: dick move, AHA, dick move. Lets hope this sudden claim to fame does not lead to more provoking displays just for the sake of hits. Ethical behavior is not religious, but social, and the AHA would do well to remember that.

• Tuesday, November 12, 2013
  current affairs Hellenic Reconstruction interfaith Paganism personal

"Atlantis" recap (1.07): The Rules of Engagement

Readers! Are you excited? I am excited! It's shaping up to be an action packed episode: for those new to Atlantis (but I suggest you start with episode one if you are), all you need to know in order to enjoy this episode is that Jason is our hero, Hercules and Pythagoras are his loyal friends (even when that's a pretty life-treathening position to be in), Jason is epically in love with princess Ariadne and awkwardly professed this to her while he thought she was passed out. Ariadne's father, King Minos, is a bit of a tool, but he has a kind heart and no idea his wife and Ariadne's stepmother is a conniving witch (in the 'I-use-magic-to-get-my-way'-way) who would like nothing better than to have Jason dead so she doesn't have to deal with his interference in marrying her stepdaughter off to Heptarian, who seems to genuinly like Ariadne, but the power that comes with marrying her much more. In the non-Jason part of the Atlantis universe, Hercules screwed up horribly last week and tried to magic his beloved Medusa into loving him--which ended with Medusa nearly dead through magical illness, Hercules transformed into a pig, and with only one way out for Jason: agree to kill Ariadne's stepmother Pasiphaê in return for a reversal of the previously mentioned afflictions. Huh, I guess everything is about Jason after all.


We kick the episode off with a libation to Poseidon in the palace of King Minos. He is announcing Ariadne's betrothal to Heptarian--who tries valiantly to convince Ariadne this is a good thing. Ariadne looks about ready to cry. Minos announces 'a pankration' in honor of the two while Pasiphaê gives it the barest minimum of effort to convince Heptarian that Ariadne will come around. When his spirits don't lift instantly, she informs him that it doesn't really matter what Ariadne thinks, feels, or wants: this is happening. The queen is certain that Ariadne is isolated, without friends or allies, and by herself she does not have the strength to oppose her father (and stepmother).

Pankration, by the way, is a rough contact sport; a combination of boxing and wrestling. The only things you could not do were biting and gouging an opponent's eyes, nose, or mouth with fingernails. Everything else was allowed. Deaths happened. Pankration was not a free-for-all, though; fighters were in excellent form, and there were a large variety of fighting stances and techniques. In fact, many of these are still known, or have been reconstructed and especially in modern Greece, pankration is a sport you can take part in today. The terminology 'a pankration' is grammatically incorrect, simply because it would indicate one fight, not a competition. As a bonus bit of information: it is said that Herakles and Theseus invented pankration, and that Theseus used it to defeat the Minotaur. I see what you did there, Atlantis.

Anyaway... on the other side of town, in the oikos currently shared by Pythagoras, Hercules and Jason, Hercules delivers the good news: there will be 'a pankration', which means free food and booze! It's the happiest day of his life! Pythagoras--knowing full well what the ocassion is, and about Jason's feelings about said ocassion--tries to shush Hercules, but it's too late: Pythagoras is forced to break the bad news to Jason and Jason is heartbroken. This short exchange also reveals some of the 'Atlantis' rules of pankration: 'two bareknuckle fighters, one knife in the sand, and the first to draw blood, wins'. I have a feeling anyone practicing pankration today is not going to recognize anything of their sport in the coming scenes.

Hercules reminds Jason he is insanely out of Ariadne's league--to which I say: he is one to talk--before Pythagoras gets him to shut the hell up and ingages in some damage control with his friend. He's not very effective: there is not much to say, after all.

The next morning, Hercules awakes from hibernation to find Jason and Medusa exchanging a note in the agora. The note makes its way to Korinna, who takes the note to Ariadne, who is in her chambers. I'm happy to see Medusa and Jason are still talking, and also: yay, Korinna. Welcome back to my TV screen. Ariadne accepts and reads the note, asking if anyone else knows about this and Korinna says no one does. Ariadne hands the note back and whispers 'Jason wants to meet me' just as the queen enters the room. That was so close to being busted, it wasn't even funny anymore. Korinna tries to sink through the floor while Ariadne tries for normalcy, and Pasiphaê sees through the ordeal in a second. She demands to see what is in Korinna's hand, and the poor girl just about dies on the spot. She hands the note over to Pasiphaê--there is no other choice. Korinna gets taken into custody for treason and a tearful Ariadne tries to get Pasiphaê to show leniency towards Korinna. Pasiphaê says she will: if Ariadne cuts Jason out of her life for once and for all. It is not proper for a betrothed woman to skulk about with a boy like this. Ariadne is shattered.

That night, Jason visits the temple of Poseidon and the Oracle's right hand man--and priest of Poseidon--shows Jason to Ariadne. Jason fumbles through a declaration of love, which Ariadne cuts off, knowing full well what she has to do to save her friend, Medusa, and Jason himself. She cries as she tells him that she has a duty to her people and Poseidon, and Jason asks her if that duty is to marry someone she does not love. Yes, Jason. That's the way it was in ancient Hellas--especially for women, and especially for women of royalty. Ariadne tells him that she only agreed to meet him so she could try to make him understand that she has to bow to her fate as he should to his. Whatever the cost. In what is probably the sweetest declaration of love I have seen in a while, Ariadne tells Jason that 'if the choice had been hers alone, she would not leave him for one moment'. Yet, as it stands, the choice belongs to everyone but her and Jason, so she will do as she must. She tells him to leave, and tells him that if he truly loves her, he will not make this harder. He hands her his father's bull's horn necklace and she tells him she needs no token to remember him before accepting the necklace and running out.

Once she gets to her room, she breaks down into tears and cries into the door, only to be spooked by Pasiphaê, who was waiting for her to return. The queen is satisfied that Ariadne did the right thing, and promises to release Korinna right away. Ariadne fingers the necklace and cries. When Pasiphaê invites her into her embrace, Ariadne runs into her open arms and clings to her for dear life. Pasiphaê tells her it will get better, but Ariadne can only cry. As a personal note, I think Ariadne realizes her stepmother is right about one thing: as a princess, Ariadne is obligated to do what is right by her people, no matter the cost to her person. While she--and I--may not agree with Pasiphaê's choice of a husband (mostly because he is only there to ensure Pasiphaê will have an influence on the throne when her husband steps down or dies), Pasiphaê knows the rules of royalty well, and as a mother, it is part of her job description to teach these rules to Ariadne.

The next morning, Pythagoras tries to sleep through Jason's work-out. He eventually fails and goes into the living room annoyed, taking the knife Jason's been throwing into a table from him with a death glare. Jason takes it back after telling Pythagoras about the disasterous meeting he had with Ariadne. When Pythagoras says it's good that it is now a closed chapter, Jason throws the blade into the table once more. "Not yet," he says, and we cut to a bunch of impressive looking men dropping an olive branch into a bowl in front of the king and queen and swearing before Poseidon they will fight fairly and until the end. They get sprinkled with water--which I am just going to take as khernips--and King Minos accepts their pledge. It seems we are swearing in men to fight in the Pankration competition. I can see where this is headed, and indeed--there is Jason, making the same oath. Pasiphaê is worried, and pissed off.

Back at the oikos, Jason has told his friends what he has done, and they are far more worried and pissed off than Pasiphaê. They tell him this will not win him Ariadne, and that it might cost him his life. Jason explains he isn't doing this for Ariadne: he says he is doing it for the money. Pythagoras tells Jason the startling truth: Heptarian has been a pankration fighter since he was a little boy, and he has never lost a match--not one. That prize money (and Ariadne's heart/hand/rest of her body) is truly a long shot.

The friends agree that if Jason is, indeed, going through with this stupendoes plan of his, he will at least need the proper training. Out in the forest, Hercules throws down a knife and he, Pythagoras and Jason circle it. Pythagoras explains that the goal is to get to the knife first. Jason thinks this is going to be a cakewalk, but within seconds, he has had his hand whipped, gotten distracted by Pythagoras yelling to look behind him, and a swift kick in the groin by Hercules. While Jason sinks to his knees in anguish, clutching his privates, the two men stand by, worried about the 0-3 score Jason can note down. Before long, it's 0-9... but then he manages to at least get the knife once. Ten percent success is not going to be enough in the competition, though.

In the palace, an old man named Stymas (David Sterne) has a delivery for  Pasiphaê. You can tell this is not going to be a good thing by the fact that it is night. Also: just as a note, an Hellenic queen without her serfs or husband, meeting a man in her chambers would have been completely unheard of in ancient Hellas. Heck; her own husband would have most likely never seen the inside of her chambers whilce she was around. That's the least of my worries though--Stymas comes to deliver a slow working poison: one dose and within weeks, the subject will develop headaches, within months, hair loss and confusion, and eventually, an irriversable coma. Pasiphaê accepts the poison and makes sure Stymas will never, ever, tell anyone about this. I hate on Pasiphaê a lot, but Sarah Parish--the actress who plays her--is excellent. In this episode especially. She is making the stereotypical evil stepmother/queen into a three dimentional woman--and while part of that is thanks to the writers, most of it is due to Parish' acting abilities.

The next morning, the pankration competition starts. Medusa, Pythagoras, and Hercules are in the audience, but far apart. Pythagoras spots Medusa and waves, upon which Medusa leaves. Hercules is crestfallen. In the arena, lots are being drawn to see who will fight whom in the first round. A knife is placed in the center of the area and we get our first fight between Heptarian and an unnamed fighter. Heptarian is a good fighter, a strong wrestler and overall a smart opponent. When his enemy grabs the knife, he breaks his wrist and takes the knife. He stabs the poor sod and leaves the battlefield. Hercules calls him a cheat, and the audience clearly doesn't like Heptarian much.

In the second battle, Jason fights another unnamed fighter, who is stupendously fast. The man grabs the knife before Jason can even come close, and Jason has to pull out his best moves not to get cut. What follows is a struggle for the knife for Jason, and a struggle to keep it for the other man. Jason gets lucky; he manages to win... but then falls down in the sand with a badly injured arm.

Back at the oikos, Pythagoras tries to assess the damage when there is a knock on the door. Medusa is there with some herbs for Pythagoras to heal with. Hercules opens the door and it is awkward. Very awkward. Medusa is stiff and sad, and Hercules stands in the doorway like a mute fool, which only serves to make the situation worse. He does know how to fix Jason's dislocated shoulder, which earns him some credit with everyone, including Medusa. She does, however, make it clear that they are not on speaking terms yet.

In the palace, Pasiphaê and Heptarian are plotting Jason's demise and discussing today's pankration fight. The queen tells him to reign it in with the needless stabbing, but Heptarian doesn't seem too bothered. They happen upon Ariadne, who treats Heptarian with the respect a betrothed deserves, and Pasipaê tells Heptarian that she knew the girl would come around eventually. Now, if Heptarian will just get a grip on his anger and jealousy until he is king (read: until she has poisoned the current king into an early grave), their plan will work out just fine.

Pasiphaê brews Minos a death cocktail, which he drinks in one go while worrying if the people--and his daughter--are enjoying the pancration competition. Poor, naive, king... he thinks his wife is looking out for him. I actually feel for Minos.

At the oikos, Hercules takes care of a feverish and sleeping Jason, while Medusa keeps an eye out. The two bond over Jason's injury and his desire to fight. When Hercules tells her of Jason's delusion of winning Ariadne's hand through winning the competition, Medusa agrees that it's never going to happen. It's hopeless. Hercules says that when you are in love, there is no such thing as hopeless. Medusa--realizing this is no longer about Jason and Ariadne--shifts her weight and tone of voice, and tells Hercules to get some rest while she takes over. Hercules says he shouldn't leave him, and Medusa's spunk comes back a little when she questions if Hercules doesn't trust her. He quickly assures her that is not what he meant and she says she knows while giving him the first smile in days. Medusa decides to keep Hercules company if he refuses to leave.

Hercules covers Jason up and Medusa asks why he is doing all of this. Hercules says that when he was Jason's age, he thought he was the best, the fastest, the strongest... but he never was. Hercules says that Jason is actually the real deal, and he has to do everything in his power to ensure Jason lives up to that potential. It's a sweet moment, and Medusa obviously appreciates the honest and kind Hercules more than the jovial one.

The next morning, Heptarian kicks the living daylight out of another poor opponent, but manages to restrain himself from going in for the kill after he wins. He neatly cuts the man and then helps him up. The crowd appreciates it. Jason's next fight is a bit of a struggle, but he makes it through. Jason and Heptarian fight time and time again, and both continue to win. Jason's sore, though. Very sore, and Ariadne can see he's punishing himself. She goes to visit him in the dungeons under the arena. She begs him to bow out. She doesn't want him to die. He plainly refuses. Knowing there is nothing she can do, she tells him that she hopes the Gods will be with him and leaves.

In the arena, Heptarian is having a really, really, hard time winning his match. He makes it through, eventually, but is so mad at his opponent that he kills him on the spot. The crowd chews him out, while they love Jason. It's clear that in Jason's next fight, they are rooting for him. That said, Jason's opponent is huge and made of pure muscle. Jason is struggling--really, really struggling--but managed to get a cut in eventually. Hercules is overjoyed and hugs Medusa who is standing next to him. He realizes right away what he is doing and releases her. Hugging Pythagoras instead, Medusa looks a little wobbly.

In the arena, there are only two people left: a battered Jason, and an equally battered but much more prepared Heptarian. Both get purified with khernips and it is announced that tomorrow at dawn, the fight between them will take place.

At home, Hercules and Medusa make dinner while Jason and Pythagoras talk battle strategy--well, Jason talks battle strategy, Pythagoras tries to get it through Jason's thick skull that Heptarian simply cannot loose. Not because Jason can't win, but because Heptarian is the servant of Poseidon, and betrothed to the king's daughter. Yes, the prize is the hand of the princess--as is customary--but if Jason does not throw the fight, all of them will be dead before sunset tomorrow. This is a fight Heptarian was always supposed to win. There is no way Jason will be allowed to marry Ariadne; this fight was to show Heptarian's worth as a future king, nothing more. Jason must loose.

Ariadne is praying in the temple of Poseidon with Jason's necklace in hand. She comes upon the right hand man of the Oracle. I am starting to feel really guilty for having no clue what the character is called, but Ariadne finally inform us that his name is Melas (Ken Bones). At any rate, Melas asks Ariadne for whom she was praying and after a little fib, she tells him she was praying for Jason and asks him to do the same. He says he already has.

In the dungeons before the fight, Medusa and Pythagoras look on as Hercules helps Jason prepare for his final combat. Medusa smiles when she realizes Hercules really does care about Jason. Pythagoras agrees and they watch as Hercules gives Jason the last bit of mental preparation he can get in. Jason is looking a bit worse for wear, but shakes Pythagoras' hand, hugs Medusa, and steps into the arena. Ariadne looks like she is sitting on hot coals when the knife is planted and then they are off.

Jason literally bites the dust the second they come for each other, and endures a horrible beating at the hands of a far more skilled Heptarian. The adrenaline kicks in eventually, and he manages to overcome a shocked Heptarian. Instead of cutting him, though, Jason does what he knows is the right thing: he gets off of his opponent, drops the knife, and turns his back to Heptarian and his eyes towards Ariadne. Heptarian, enraged, grabs the knife, gets up, and longs to plant it in Jason's neck. Jason--rightfully so--says that if he does that, the crowd will hate him forever. Realizing he can't kill Jason, Heptarian drops the knife and raises Jason's hand in triumph. It's a draw.

Ariadne finally exhales the breath she has been holding in, Pasiphaê looks like she swallowed a bug, and it seems King Minos is finally realizing something more is going on than a nice contest of men beating the snot out of each other. Heptarian warns Jason that his luck will run out eventually and stalks off, leaving Jason in front of a confused king, an angry queen, and an overcome princess.

Thankfully he does not have to remain there for long: the next scene takes place in the dungeons and Jason is sitting on a bench, depressed, with his friends around him taking care of his injuries--Hercules the physical ones, Pythagoras the mental ones. Ariadne shows up to check up on Jason and the men make themselves scarce. She gives him back his necklace--because she must, not because she wants to. She questions why he did not kill Heptarian and thanks him once he explains. She says he has given her strength and kisses him fleetingly. It seems the next step is up to Ariadne--something foreshadowed at the start of the episode.

It's a step she takes right away: she visits her father, who is walking the halls with Pasiphaê and Heptarian. She comes out with the news: she can't marry Heptarian. She says the Gods made their will clear today. Pasiphaê tries to shush her, but her father lets her go on. Ariadne explains how losing a fight he was set up to win--with his experience, track record, and the favor of the Gods--showed that the Gods do not look favorably upon this union. Heptarian is livid but holds it in. King Minos asks Ariadne if this is what she sincerely believes. She says it is, and manages to keep a straight face through it. King Minos then says that they need to bow to a wisdom greater than their own: the engagement is off. Pasiphaê tries to sway her husband, but the role of women in ancient Hellas finally shows and the king brushes her off without a second thought. Right away, he goes to fetch the priest of Poseidon to make all of this right. Heptarian runs after him, but with his lower statues, I doubt he'll get much accomplished. This leaves Ariadne and a flabbergasted Pasiphaê in the hallway--a woman who has just seen her carefully laid plans smashed into smithereens. Ariadne looks a little pale. Pale, but happy. Ariadne warns Pasiphaê that she is not afraid of her, that she is not afraid of anyone. The queen calls her stupid--even more stupid than she had always imagined--and Ariadne walks off.

Jason, Pythagoras, Hercules and Medusa are walking home through the Streets of Atlantis, discussing Hercules' prowess as a pankration fighter. Pythagoras and Jason are convinced Hercules has never actually entered a fight, but Medusa is sure he has. She has heard many times of the strong, fast, and agile Hercules who won match after match and was the greatest fear of all the contestants. She grabs Hercules' hand and drags him off. Hercules says he doesn't deserve her and Medusa says "life's not fair, is it?" and does not let go of his hand. It seems those two are on!

In the palace, Queen Pasiphaê has taken her revenge on Ariadne: as Ariadne is drawn to the window by the sound of gathering people in the courtyard, she sees a group surrounding a figure on the floor. It's Korinna. Ariadne tries to hold back tears while Pasiphaê explains to her that Korinna took her own life. For a second, Ariadne believes her in her grief, but then her brain kicks in and she realizes that Korinna would have felt no guilt at doing what was the best for the woman she served. She would never have killed herself. Putting two and two together, Ariadne sets her jaw and walks off while Pasiphaê looks smugly out the window at the dead servant girl who I am really going to miss. Bye Korinna, you were really sweet, and loyal, and I am sure Ariadne and Jason won't let Pasiphaê get away with your murder.

Next week on Atlantis: we are in a desert, then a cave. We meet the Furies, and Pythagoras turns out to have a brother who does not look a bit like him.

• Monday, November 11, 2013
  ancient Hellenic culture Atlantis recaps