Bouchercon Hiatus: The Greek Gods Redux Once Again

Jeff—Saturday

 

 

Tradition has it that during Bouchercon week--this year in Nashville--we re-post blogs from among our favorites of all time. This year I’m taking the easy way out and going with what MIE visitors continue to favor more than any other of my posts.  It’s one from January 28, 2012, titled “The Gods Will Be Back.”  I’ve no idea why it continues to draw such attention, unless of course the gods themselves are tuning in from across the ether for this mortal’s take on their family tree. 

BUT WAIT, as a special Bouchercon week offer to the first zillion readers of this column, I’m tossing in absolutely free a second Golden Oldie post. This one appeared on February 25, 2012, titled “A Visit With The Gods.”   

So, here’s “The God’s Will Be Back” followed by “A Visit With The Gods.”

 

I long for the day when the mention of Greece will once again first bring to mind ancient gods, epic tales, and a land and sea infused at every inch with the seminal essence of western civilization.   Someday that will happen, for financial crises are transient and gods are immortal, though not eternal—after all, they do need nectar and ambrosia to sustain them.

Ahh, yes, the good old days of true Greek gods quick and strong, knowing all things, capable of miraculous achievements.

It’s been a long while since I’ve read up on the ancient gods, and I must admit to often getting them mixed up, but I’ve just learned that my confusion puts me in illustrious company. 

Socrates (469-399 B.C.E.)

 

According to Alexander S. Murray’s Who’s Who in Mythology, even Socrates was confused by the varying number of seemingly same gods (one Aphrodite or two?) and multiple names for one god (Zeus in summer was called Zeus Meilichios, the friendly god, and in winter Zeus Maemaktes, the angry god).

Some think that’s attributable to disparate early Greek tribes who even after coalescing as a single race kept the original names for their separate gods despite obvious similarities to each other (Dione, Hera, Gaea, and Demeter). 

But call them what you wish, the essential purpose of the Greek gods was the same: their existence and interactions explained to mortals the natural order of things, e.g., the earth, the sun, the moon, the stars, the clouds, lightning, thunder, earthquakes, storms, waves, and on and on as needed.  

 

What made Greek gods so significant was that the essentially human form of the Twelve Olympian Deities of Mount Olympus and of the lesser gods living in other environs gave to those who worshipped them the sense that their deities could understand and relate to a mortal’s needs and fears. 

The mythological explanations offered by the carryings on of the gods largely centered upon the three supreme rulers of the world: Uranos, Kronos, and Zeus. 

The first to rule was Uranos.  He represented the heavens and, as the husband of Earth, brought forth life and everything on our planet. 

Uranos with Earth

His son, Kronos, ruled next as god of the harvest, ripening and maturing the forms of life brought forth by his father. 

Kronos and Rhea

And, lastly, ruled Zeus, bringing order and wisdom to the universe. 

Zeus overthrows Kronos (Van Haarlem 1588)

I think it’s safe to say that Zeus hasn’t been around for a while.  Or has he? 

Whatever, all of this impresses me, as it should every writer, artist, and musician who freely borrows from the tales of the gods in their own creations, albeit sometimes consciously oblivious to the source of their inspiration.  So much of what we think unique to modern culture is simply a new way of retelling of what ancient Greeks witnessed in their deities. 

I wish I had time now to say more.  But there will be later.  One must always make time for the gods.

***

Zeus

 

I’ve often wished there were a way to journey back to the heyday of the ancient Greek gods just to drop in, say “Hi,” and ask what they think of our current times over here in the New World...with particular interest in their take on politicians seeking to govern as if immor(t)als.

This, though, isn’t about current events; it’s about my interest in visiting Olympian deities and, in particular, one called “father of gods and men, ruler and preserver of the world, and everlasting god.”  In other words (courtesy of Alexander S. Murray’s Who’s Who in Mythology), I’m talking about the boss man himself: Zeus. 

But before I wave goodbye and click those ruby slippers together (couldn’t find a reasonably priced pair of Hermes sandals), let me share a little background on how Zeus got to be Numero Uno.  And for you Wizard of Oz aficionados out there, don’t worry about Dorothy’s shoes whisking me off to Kansas instead.  I have it on the highest authority they’ve been re-programmed to route me to the otherwise inaccessible, cloud-shrouded Olympos of Thessaly.

 

Zeus’ upbringing certainly wasn’t what most normal folk would call traditional, unless of course you happen to be a fan of the Dr. Phil sort of stuff inhabiting weekday afternoon American TV. 

To begin with, his daddy (Kronos) and mommy (Rhea) were brother and sister.  But since his grandparents were the original paired begator (Uranos) and begatee (Gaea) of what love, via Eros (Cupid), had fashioned out of Chaos (the great shapeless mass at the beginning of the world) to prepare the world to receive mankind—that might be considered an extenuating circumstance under modern consanguinity laws. 

Eros and Chaos (by Treijim)

Besides, it was a substantial improvement over his grandparents’ marital arrangement.  Uranos, the husband of Gaea, was not her brother.  He was her son.  And when Uranos “mistreated” their children, Gaea sided with her son/grandson (Kronos) to destroy her husband/son (Uranos).  Got that?

But it gets better.  Zeus’ father (Kronos), alert to how children could treat their fathers, swallowed his first five children as they were born.  Zeus, the sixth child, only escaped because his mother (Rhea) deceived her husband/brother (Kronos) into thinking Zeus, too, had been swallowed. 

Kronos (Saturn) by Francisco De Goya

 

 

When Zeus reached manhood he enlisted the aid of his grandmother (Gaea) to convince his father (Gaea’s son/grandson) to yield up Zeus’ siblings, which Kronos did.  One was Zeus’ sister, Hera (Juno), the love of Zeus’ life … and later his wife.  Like father like son, I suppose.

Zeus had many affairs and fathered many children, at times in rather unorthodox fashion, but Hera was his only wife, as was the way in Greece.  Some say Zeus didn’t gallivant around as much as people liked to think, but gained his reputation innocently through an historical accommodation.  When the disparate tribes of Greece came together as one race, each brought with them their own Zeus stories, and all those separate tales were incorporated into one mythology that multiplied Zeus’ fathering experiences far beyond what any individual tribe had believed on its own.

If Zeus got Hera to buy that story, it’s good enough for me.  

Hera with Zeus

 

By the way, let’s not forget that all this played out for Zeus against the time of man on earth. 

At the beginning of Zeus’ rule it was the Silver Age of the human race.  Men were rich, but grew overbearing, were never satisfied, and in their arrogance forgot the source to which their prosperity was owed.  As punishment, Zeus swept the offenders away to live as demons beneath the earth.

Then came the Bronze Age, one of quarreling and violence, where might made right, and cultivated lands and peaceful occupations faded away.  Ultimately even the all-powerful grew tired of it all and disappeared without a trace.

The Iron Age followed with a weakened and downtrodden mankind using their bare hands to toil for food, thinking all the while only of themselves, and dealing unscrupulously with each other. 

Zeus had seen enough.

He brought on a flood that destroyed all but two members of the human race.  A husband, Deukalion, and his wife, Pyrrha, were spared and commanded by the gods to propagate a new human race upon the earth. 

Pyrrha and Deukalion by Andrea di Mariotto del Minga

 

That, folks, is supposed to be us. 

If I recall correctly, Zeus didn’t think much more of the new batch than he did of the ones he’d wiped off the face of the earth. 

But this is 2012, and the human race is so much different now than it was in Zeus’ day that we have absolutely nothing to fear from the big guy for the way we live our lives today. 

Right? 

Hmmm.  I really can’t wait to get going.  Honest.  But time travel these days isn’t as predictable as it once was (what with all those amateurs clogging up the astral planes) and I’d sure hate to pop in on Zeus on a bad day.  God(s) knows where/how I’d end up. 

 

On reflection, I think I’ll put those slippers away for now—at least until after the elections. Which elections, you ask?  Good question.  I’ll wait for a sign from the gods on high and let you know.

Jeff—Saturday

Help! We're lost!

And where are my muffins!

Wrong Conference!

 Can somebody tell me where we are??

Caro

Bouchercon Hiatus - The Name of the Lion

 Michael - Every other Thursday

Every year Murder Is Everywhere has a hiatus for Bouchercon, and we repost a favorite blog. I've chosen this one before. The San or Bushmen people have played an important role in many of our books and made a big impression on both of us. Since the San cultures and languages are fading over time, it's important to go back to documentation from the era when the cultures were still alive and able to be studied. That's why the Bleeks' work is so valuable. 

Wilhelm Bleek

Dorothea Bleek

Between 1870 and 1880, two linguists – Wilhelm Bleek and Lucy Lloyd recorded the stories and beliefs of five /Xam Bushmen or San.  By that time, the Bushmen of the southern region – south of the Orange River – were in decline, and it was clear that the /Xam culture would soon be gone.  Bleek had several of the /Xam live with him at his house in Cape Town and learned their language.  This was a remarkable feat for two reasons – firstly at that time there was essentially no written version of the language and its dialects, and secondly its structure involved the frequent use of five clicks each changing the meaning of what followed in the context.  The linguists had to develop a character set to represent these (and other) features of the language.  Thus the five special clicks are written /, //, ≠, ! and Θ.  The names of the five /Xam teachers who shared their customs and beliefs with Bleek and Lloyd in their own language (with the Western names they were given) are /A!kuηta (Klaas Stoffel), //Kabbo (Oud Jantje Tooren), Diä!kwain (David Hoesar), /Haη≠kass’o (Klein Jantje Tooren) and ≠Kasiη (Klaas Katkop).  The material was compiled in extensive notebooks.  Some forty years later one of Wilhelm Bleeks daughters – Dorothea Bleek – first published them.

One of the /Xam teachers

The interest in what is recorded for the ordinary reader is in the picture that it gives of a vanished culture and its beliefs.  The /Xam lived in semi-arid savannah conditions and shared the environment with all the big game for which Africa remains famous.  Of these none was more awesome and terrifying than the lion. Even today sitting in the (relative) safety of an open Land Rover in a game reserve, few things are more awe-inspiring than a lion roaring a few yards away.  And the casual glances they give you with big yellow eyes as they walk past seem to say, “You have the upper hand now, but things may be different later.”

Perhaps it's hardly surprising that the Bushmen attributed powers to lions that went way beyond their daunting physical prowess and co-operative hunting skills.  Lions understood human speech.  Owls and crows spied for them.  Worse still, they had swarms of flies which they could send out to listen to what people said and report back.  Thus, children in particular where warned to be careful not to insult a lion; it was best to euphemistically refer to “hair” ("Hair" was here, see there are "Hair’s" footprints) or to indicate the same with one spread open hand.  Then the flies wouldn’t know.  (Presumably flies don’t have enough intelligence to bring to learning such matters.)  Not only would owls report to the lions on where people where, they could also make the sun set quickly – taking away the light people needed to fight or escape.

It's hard to imagine living not only in nightly danger from these large predators, but also endowing them with demon-like powers.  Yet, with great courage, the /Xam would sometimes steal part of a lion’s kill, maybe even driving off an animal or two to do so.  But there is a do-as-you-would-be-done-by moral to that tale.  It was understood that part must always be left for the lions, otherwise they would track the thieves to their homes and demand a human in compensation.

Diä!kwain told the story like this:

            “Our parents used to say that if the lion did not find food at the place of the kill, he would be angry and say to himself, ‘Just you wait a bit; because you seem to have carried off all my food, I will do as you have done to me, I will follow your footprints, I will go and seize one of your men in his sleep and eat him.  For you seem to have forgotten that I, too, am hungry.”

(Customs and Beliefs of the /Xam Bushmen, edited by Jeremy C Hollman, Wits University Press.)

These stories and the many others that Bleek and Lloyd labored to understand and record, give us an insight into a time and a way of life that is now gone, in South Africa at least.  

I think we owe them a debt of gratitude.

IF YOU"RE AT BOUCHERCON, CATCH UP WITH STAN TOMORROW!

Sunday Bloody Sunday - Crime Fiction as Social Commentary: Exploring the ways crime novels can, covertly or overtly, tackle the social issues of our day.

Friday, August 30, 2024: Time: 8:00-8:30 AM: Room: Canal CD

Stanley Trollip/Michael Stanley - moderator

Robert Rotstein, Lisa Black, Julie Carrick Dalton, Michael Bennett, Jeffrey Siger

________________________________

Look What You Made Me Do: Bad guys - the heroes of their own story.

Friday, August 30, 2024: Time: 12:30 – 1:20 PM: Room: Bayou AB

Bruce Johnson - moderator

Dana Haynes, T. Jefferson Parker, Tod Goldberg, Stanley Trollip (Michael Stanley), Brad Taylor

The Sweetness of Figs

 Sujata Massey

Fall is almost here, but nature is having a last hurrah. In Maryland and the states nearby, farmstands are loaded with corn and tomatoes. Peaches are ripe and a second harvest of raspberries looms. For me, the fruit that’s calling out the loudest is the simple brown fig.

 

Figs are said to originated in Asia Minor, an area in Turkey’s north: a meeting place for European and Asian travelers. The fruit can be grown from a cut twig—so it was easy to propagate and spread worldwide. In Baltimore, Maryland, many Italian and Greek immigrants planted fig trees on the small patches of land outside their rowhouses and cottages. As their trees grew, they shared branches with neighbors.

 

This practice even continues today. On Deepdene Avenue, a small street filled with small Victorian cottages, my neighbors Prem and Anand admired a robust fig tree across the street. Their neighbor gave them a cutting. Ten years later, their own handsome fig tree towers over the roses and vegetables growing in their back yard. Hundreds of figs are produced each year: more than enough for them and the local birds. This meant that yesterday, Prem and Anand walked Deepdene with bags of figs that they dropped to ten households. They’ve made me and other friends feel welcome to come and pick figs when I want. 

 

The average fig tree takes three to five years to start bearing fruit; and some can live as long as 200 years. In the novel by Eli Shafak, The Island of Missing Trees a beautifully sheltering fig tree is one of the story's narrators. She is a cutting transported from Cyprus to England, where she is planted and tended by an immigrant family who holds pain of the past. 

Very likely the brown Turkey fig came to India via traders or during the Mughal Empire, because you can find sweets and chutneys made from the fruit in India. However, South Asia has its own indigenous fig tree: the mighty and mystical banyan. A bright red-pink variety of figs grows in thick clusters on banyan trees (Ficus Benghalensus) that are enjoyed by birds, not humans. 

The fig tree that’s now native to my neighborhood is the aforementioned brown Turkey fig, a fruit that does not require wasp pollination. Thus, these are considered “vegetarian” figs as opposed to “carnivorous” figs like Smyrna and San Pedro that have the remnants of dead wasps inside. But don't be frightened! The insects have been almost absorbed by enzymes and are both invisible and don't affect taste.

 

What to do with an over-abundance of figs? Prem freezes her figs in plastic bags and uses later for baking. Here we are together, and a closeup of Prem's famous fig cake.

In the past I’ve frozen several small fig-almond meal cakes, and they’ve defrosted nicely.  This year, I decided I wanted to make fig chutneys. It’s simple enough to wash the figs and chuck them into a pot with a small amount of onion, ginger, sugar, vinegar and spices. What emerged tasted a lot like a classic sweet mango chutney. 

 

Two days later, Prem had more figs for me.  I altered the recipe slightly to be more like hers: including half of a tart Granny Smith apple. The result was a different texture and the sweetness was cut very slightly. Either chutney is delicious on a cheese sandwich or a charcuterie board, if you’re not using it alongside grilled meat or on a plate alongside curries, rice and dal. Small amounts of chutney can be used in marinades, glazes, and dishes like chicken salad. Chutney freezes well and makes a meal taste like early Fall sweetness, no matter the time of year.

 

Fig Chutney (makes approximately 2 cups)

 

1 ½ tablespoons neutral oil such as avocado, sunflower or canola

½ tsp cumin seeds

¼ tsp fennel seeds

¼ tsp mustard seeds (yellow or brown)

½ cup finely chopped red onion or shallots

1 tablespoon grated or finely chopped gingerroot

Approximately 25 figs, washed, stemmed and cut in half

½ teaspoon garam masala powder (homemade is great, and I like the brands Frontier and Spicewalla)

¼-1/2 teaspoon red chili flakes*

¾ teaspoon fine salt

3 tablespoons brown sugar (I use coconut sugar or jaggery, Indian unrefined cane sugar)

½ tablespoon vinegar (apple cider, sherry or wine vinegar, or plain all work fine)

½ cup water

 

1. Heat a stainless steel or ceramic-interior medium sized cooking pot or Dutch oven to medium heat. When warm, add the oil, followed by the seeds. T
2. When the mustard seeds start to pop, add the chopped onion and ginger. Sautee until soft (but not browned).
3. Add the figs and all the spices, sugar and vinegar and the ½ cup of water. Sautee uncovered, stirring occasionally, on a low flame. Toward the 20-minute mark, you'll notice the chutney becoming dry. Add a few tablespoons of water to avoid burning and break up the fig halves with your wooden spoon. Cook approximately 25 minutes or until the hot mixture resembles a thick chutney. Turn off heat, cool, and put in a clean jar. Refrigerate and eat within the next 3 weeks. Freeze chutney in plastic containers or bag for later use.

 

 

 

*Chili flakes can be omitted entirely or substituted with other items you may have on hand. Try a chopped fresh red chili, a whole dried red chili, chili crisp, or cayenne powder. In every case, start with a small amount and taste the chutney in the last 5 minutes of cooking time to see if you want to add more of a kick.

 

Fig-Apple Chutney Variation: To the recipe listed above, add one half-cup of small-diced Granny Smith apple, or another tart cooking apple. You can cut the figs to 20—or even less. Do as you like, because chutney is most forgiving.  

Here are pictures of the chutney as it starts out in the pot, followed by chutney that is ready for bottling.

Wandering Spirits and Ghostly Gatherings (& missing Bouchercon)

Ovidia--every other Tuesday
It's Bouchercon Week! Even though I’m not anywhere near Nashville, I already imagine (and miss) all the conversations that will be going on in the Bouchercon Bar.

Because that's where everyone goes to meet up with writers present and past...

This is my attempt at putting Nero Wolfe and Hercule Poirot together, in case you can't tell.

Right now, I'm trying to meet an end of August deadline, which is largely both why I'm a) not in Nashville and b) not writing!
Thinking about mystery readers and writers congregating, exchanging and feasting on ideas, being entertaining while being entertained, makes me imagine Wendell Thomas’s Cyd Redondo swapping stories with Kwai Quartey’s Emma Djan as Detective Kubu checks out the quality of nuts.

Maybe because gatherings of that sort are happening here in Singapore now--it's the Ghost Month, the time when the gates of hell open and spirits return to be entertained by getai performances and indulge in food, incense and other burned offerings.

At least that's the intention.
There was an incident over the weekend when police were called to a public getai performance that drew a live audience of over three hundred. Getai (literally 'song stage') are loud, garish, over the top performances. But most locals know better than to complain, being mindful of the first row of seats--always left empty as they are reserved for spirits and deities
Apparently a complaint about excessive noise in a residential/ tourist area was made. This being Singapore, two police officers showed up ASAP.

Again, this being Singapore, the police officers left after checking the organiser's permit and the show went on as usual.

After all, MP Muhammad Faishal Ibrahim was not only present, but performed a Hokkien song ("我问天") which got the audience singing along.
Around here, even if you don't believe in hungry ghosts, you have to pay respect to Members of Parliament!

But I wonder what the returning ghosts make of today's Singapore.

Much as I wish I could be at Bouchercon, there are some consolations here. For one, the Trumpet Trees all over Singapore are blooming right now.

These are some of the trees along the park connector running by Ulu Pandan Canal. It's one of my favourite walks, all the more so right now.

I'll get back to edits now--I hope all of you heading to Bouchercon have a Wonderful time!