TFBT: Homer's Chorus

After completing The Ancient Greek Hero in 24 Hours,  I came to appreciate the performance aspect of The Iliad.  In addition;  I read Tobias Anthony Myers paper "Models of Reception in the Divine Audience of the Iliad.”  As a consequence, I now envision "The Iliad" as a Broadway show on the road.   

Achilles is the star of the production.  Homer is the lead writer, director and often the onstage narrator.  The whole thing is produced by Zeus for the amusement for his overly large extended family.  They occupy the private boxes high up in the theatre.  Several of them have walk on parts.  All of them constantly comment about the action on stage, so loudly that we in the cheap seats far below can here. 

The only people in the theatre we don't hear are the general audience.  But is that right?  Admittedly, I am a Frankie Fan (Rocky Horror Picture Show Fan)and that colors my opinion of how a live performance works.  But still what pop singer doesn't ask the crowd to join in the chorus?  There are parts of the liturgy that my pastor doesn't have to actually say because the rest of us unasked are saying in along with him.  Who doesn't "hiss", "boo" and go "Awe!" at a melodrama.  How hasn't watched a friend viewing their favorite film silently voicing every moving line?  

Did the crowd sit quietly through the Catalogue or cheer for their home town?  Aristotle says the audience wept, could they have stopped themselves from lamenting?  Any chance they were Homer's chorus.

TFBT: And Nothing Will Ever Be the Same

Hour 25 is a Community Development project sponsored by Harvard’s Center for Hellenic Studies.  Each Friday one of our members proposes a topic to share with the rest of the 1000 registered users.  It is a chance to get to know one another better and do a little bonding.  Hmm, bonding?  If, I may quote Detienne and Vernant, “bonds are the privileged weapons of “metis”.  (That’s a little classicist humor there.  I will try to stop myself in the future!)  Anyway, the topic for this week is “milestones”.

I started to respond with a list of incredible moments in my life as sharp in my memory as a break-taking landscape in the just- risen, naked sun.  Too many came, too many moments when afterwards I can truly say like Riff Raff , “And nothing will ever be the same.”  So I skipped to the last of my milestone moments; this moment that I live right now.    

I followed Dr. Gregory Nagy for years.  First, through his articles at JSTOR and his very accessible books.  My favorite is The Best of the Achaeans.    With a shiver of anticipation I discovered his filmed lectures on-line one day.  Dr. Nagy began recording and posting his lectures and reading assignments on-line long before it was the thing to do.  I followed him and Kevin McGrath through two years of pre-recorded offerings at Harvard pretending I was in the enthusiastic audience, amongst people who shared my interest in classical studies.  Clearly my dream was to actually attend Harvard, but…

Then along came The Ancient Greek Hero in 24 Hours.  Called HeroesX for short.  It was, is and will be a massive on-line open classroom (MOOC).  The first round included 30,000 participants.  Weekly we read 4-6 hours, watched sometimes a dozen video clips, wrote essays, took tests and participated in an on-line forum.  It was literally my dream come true.  I told everyone about it.  In particular my friend Alan. 

Alan, now retired, and I attend the same church and once worked in the same office.  During Monday morning coffee breaks we would discuss the sermon and scripture readings from the day before.  One of the techniques taught in HeroesX is called “close reading”.  This form of analysis greatly improved my understanding of scripture and our conversations.  So, Alan would always ask what was happening at “Harvard”.  Alan heard about HeroesX a lot, because after the first version ended, I immediately signed up for the second version of the class.   

But all good things must come to an end.  In the fall HeroesX ended again, Alan retired, my family went to Maui for the Christmas and promptly in January I attended a professional conference I utilized for retirement planning.  As I finalized my new year’s resolutions, a letter came from the Center for Hellenic Studies.  (If you want to hear God laugh, tell Him your plans.)  It announced Hour 25; an opportunity for graduates of HeroesX to continued their studies together.

During the sharing of the peace a few Sundays ago, Alan and I finally got caught up.    I mentioned Hour 25.  “Bill” he says to me, “This is beyond a dream come true for you, isn’t it?”  Awed at the notion I numbly nodded in reply.   In regard to my retirement plans, he asked if Hour 25 would lead to a second career.  I said no, and then hesitated.  “Bill, a new door has opened in your life.  Opened just a few inches and you don’t know what fully lies on the other side.”

All I could think as I returned to my pew was; “And nothing will ever be the same.”

VftSW: A Hotshot's Life

I dreamt last night of hanging out with some hotshots.  Hotshots are wildland forest firefighters.  They are elite handcrews; the shock troopers of the firefighting land management agencies.  I was one once, I often dream of those days.  In the dream, out the window the heavy black smoke of a grass fire raced along the Southern California landscape.  In my dream these hotshots whined about fighting this fire.  In reality no hotshot would ever say that. They are all gungho.   

This dream on my mind I hiked towards work through the heavy mist of an Alaskan morning.  As I pushed through the alders alongside the neighbors immaculate lawn, my thoughts drifted to the “Lupus-Canus”, tar-black and brown bears of yesterday’s training session.  While stepping carefully through the creek and tall grass, I heard a growl.  I stopped there in the shadows and studied the "muskegs" ahead of me carefully; nothing but mud, moss and bottomless pools.  I began reciting aloud to announce my presence to the wilderness “The Jabberwocky”.  Only as my mouth sang out the words, my thoughts raced ahead to “the claws that catch, the jaws that bite” and I switched to my daily prayers. 

Crossing the watery world in no haste, I mused about the many places I visited as a hotshot and world traveler, that I wrote and imagined and all the glorious things and places I read about.  I live a glorious life. To use an old hotshot expression; “I’ve been around the world three times and Heber state fair twice.”  I memorized many things for occasions like this out alone in bear country;  “Jabberwocky” by Lewis Carrol which was clearly a poor choice, the inspiring “King’s Ring” by Tilton, the “Lord’s Prayer”, the hymn “Joyful, Joyful!”, the hope-promising song, “Velvet Darkness” from “The Rocky Horror Picture Show” ,  “bits of poetry fallen from the lips of slave girls” and “A book of verse beneath the bough, a jug of wine, a loaf of bread and Thou.”   The last bit I came across is an interesting way back in my hotshot days.

Our tradition in those glorious summers was to party-hardy Friday night, rising early Saturday and drive down to Oak Creek for a barbeque among the Red Rocks.  We would return in time to drink wine while watching the “Rocky and Bullwinkle” Show on television.  That is, I watched Rocky and Bullwinkle; everyone else took a nap before we headed out for the evening.  So one episode, Bullwinkle is taking a bath.  The tub is full of suds and toys.  When he finishes he puts his toys away, pulls the plug and begins drying off.  When he glances a little later at the tub, it’s drained but one little toy boat remains.  Bullwinkle doesn’t recognize it.  So, the boys (that’s Rocky and Bullwinkle) try to figure out whose it is.  It’s a little boat with big red chunks of glass on it.  Someone finally points out that isn’t glass, those are rubies.  At the same time Rocky realizes that the boat has a name, there on the bow is engraved the “Omar Khayyam”.  So Rocky says, “That must mean that this is…”  Several of the characters say they won’t touch this line with a ten foot pole.  So he takes a deep breath and says, “This must be the ruby yacht of Omar Khayyam.”  All the other characters groan.  What?  I glance around at my fellow hotshots all of whom are asleep.  Now Flagstaff is a college town right?  My fellow firefighters were mostly college educated.  But it took three weeks of asking before I found someone who could tell me about the poet Omar Khayyam’s masterpiece “The Rubaiyat”  And this hotshot’s wonderful life has been all the better for it.

And the growling?  As I crossed Mitkof Highway, I heard it again, under my rain coat!  It was my stomach!  Too much coffee!