I had dinner the other night at one of my favorite places on
Mykonos, a bamboo-capped, white stone shack perched at
the bottom of a waning crescent moon beach close-by the old town. It’s called Niko’s Place but everyone knows
it as Joanna’s (to distinguish it from the better known and also delightful
Niko’s Taverna just off the old port).
It’s nestled in a cove on what once was the island’s most famous beach,
Megali Ammos, before new roads made dozens of other beaches readily
accessible.
For me, there’s no more beautiful spot for sunset than
Joanna’s. The sea shimmers in
combinations of gun-metal blue, silver, and gold against a backdrop of
vermilion skies and shadowy forms of distant islands. But for a lone white church with a blood red
roof on the tiny island of Baou at the entrance to the bay, nothing in view
suggests that the hand of man played a part in any of this––unless of course
you look sharply to the left or right.
But no one comes here to do that.
This is a place for remembering simpler times and watching a glowing
orange ball fade below the horizon.
On a clear day (as most are) you can see Tinos to the right,
Syros dead ahead, and a bit of Rhenia (or big Delos, as the locals call it) off
to the left. Delos is out there too,
around a bend to the left and less than a mile away. I wrote about Delos in my
very first Murder is Everywhere post.
It’s hard not to think of Delos as you watch the sunset. After all, Delos is where Apollo, god of the
sun, and his twin-sister, Artemis, the original divine personification of the
moon were born to their mother, Leto, out of her assignation with Zeus. Delos wasn’t Leto’s first choice for a
delivery room, because back then it was little more than a rock bouncing around
the Aegean Sea. But she had little
choice because Zeus’ wife (and sister—more about that here),
Hera, had the world fearing her jealous wrath, and only tiny Delos saw nothing
to lose in making a “You take care of me, I’ll take care of you bargain” with
Zeus.
Birth of Artemis and Apollo to Leto |
From the moment of Apollo’s birth, when golden light flooded
down upon Delos, the island prospered, so much so that it rose to emerge as one
of antiquity’s bastions of commerce and religiosity.
But Apollo didn’t stick around his birthplace very
long. Jealous Hera drove Leto away from
her children forcing Apollo to grow up quickly—in a matter of hours to be
precise (on a diet of nectar and ambrosia)—and begin a pilgrimage that launched
his myth, one of the oldest of all Greek myths and one of the few of entirely Greek
creation (as opposed to foreign influences).
Although Apollo’s exploits gave rise to his being known by
many different names and titles—Karneios, Hyakinthios, Pythios, Thargelios,
Nomios, Delphinios, Ismenios, Hebdomeios, Lykios, Musagetes, etcetera—they all
in one way or another derived from his link to the eternal operation of the sun
and all that the ancients attributed to it.
In much the same way Apollo’s sister, Artemis, found that the
qualities attributed to the moon—bringing fertility to the earth through cool,
dew filled nights and casting light into the dark night offering protection to
flocks and hunters—had her identified with those traits (fertility, hunting)
and called by names and titles linked to those perceived powers of the moon: Agrotora,
Kalliste, Diktynna, Britomartis, Eleuthro, Orthia, Limnaia, Potamia, Munychia,
Brauronia, Amarynthia, etcetera.
Adonis and Artemis |
As a duet, Apollo and Artemis might be best known for a
bloody, Bonnie and Clyde-style episode brought on by an affront to their mother
(and them) by the daughter of a king who boasted that her own children were “more
beautiful” than Leto’s. Talk about
perturbing the wrong folk. Artemis and
Apollo promptly punished the prideful mother (Niobe) by slaying all of her
children, Artemis by arrows the daughters, and Adonis by arrows the sons. In her anguish the mother turned to stone.
On the off chance I’ve written something that a buddy of
those Delosian twins might find offensive, please don’t come looking for me. You’ll want to talk to Alexander S. Murray who
wrote Who’s Who in Mythology. It’s his book that’s responsible for driving this
post…so help me gods.
Jeff—Saturday
I could have used that book on our recent travels. Will get it for next time! And will make note of your taverna - sounds like our kind of place.
ReplyDeleteI can guaranty you, J&J, that the taverna is your kind of place. As for the book, well, to be honest it's a rather obtuse, academic sort of presentation that has a lot of information but isn't laid out in the most user friendly manner. Check it out first to see if it suits your purposes. It does mine, for it gives me basic info I can spin into my tales...in a process that makes me think I'm a masochist at heart.:)
ReplyDeleteMustn't mess with those Gods, huh. But those pictures remind me why I always wanted to see Greece. Is there a Delos in your future books?
ReplyDeleteThat's a good motto, Lil:).
DeleteAs for Delos in my books, as you know, the first in my Chief Inspector Andreas Kaldis series, MURDER IN MYKONOS, had Delos playing a starring supporting role (no other way to say that) one that explored virtually the entire island in such detail that I've actually heard from guide friends that some folks carry the book while hiking Delos! That's a hard act to follow, though in my new book coming out it September (#5), MYKONOS AFTER MIDNIGHT, Delos' history is discussed in the context of its link since antiquity to Mykonos.
Still, never say never. Perhaps "Dracula on Delos." Nah, too believable. :).
A friend of my daughter's is named Artemis. She began calling herself Diana when she started school. When, in third grade the class studied mythology, Diana was a hit.
ReplyDeleteBeth
Hi, Beth. I sure hope that after making her announcement Diana nee Artemis took a bow.... Yes, I really said that.:)
ReplyDeleteJeff, I always love your greek god posts. The deity machinations never cease to interest me. I will even put up with intense feelings of envy about sunset dinners with spectacular views just to get those tales the wrath of the gods.
ReplyDeleteI really wish I had the time to do a book giving my take on the gods and their hustles. They'd fit right in with the LA crowd. On the envy side, I've found that when living on Mykonos it's not a bad idea to wear a mati (evil eye warder-offer) especially when trying to explain to friends back in the States how difficult it is to spend a day swimming in the Aegean and not get sunburned. OUCH, Annamaria, that look hurt!
DeleteI forgot that Apollo and Artemis murdered Niobe's children. As a child reading children's versions of the myths, that one made me so sad! Undoubtedly, I related to the children, not the mother.
ReplyDeleteBarbara
I think that's why my mother always said it's better to have good than attractive children:))
ReplyDeleteThe painting of Artemis Apollo and Leto is indeed very tranquil, it shows nothing but the pure essence of a relaxed motherhood that we don't see in modern times.
ReplyDeleteThanks for posting the picture