Reeds and threads
Day 1: Family & Lineage
Parents | Siblings | Ancestors [Icarius & Periboea | Alyzeus, Leucadius, Iphthime | Andromeda, Perseus, Amyklaus] Characters: Penelope, Telemachus, Mentioned: Dodoroche, Icarius, Iphtime, Damasiclus, Polymelus, Odysseus, Tyndareus, Taygete and Philonoe.
Penelope, divine among women, daughter of Icarius, set aside her skeins and threads and spoke with winged words upon hearing the nightingale's melodious song: — I still remember the days of spring, when Karpos and Zephyros bring the sweet flowers of the season, and the daffodils, poppies, buttercups, daisies, and hyacinths never cease to bloom on the black earth of my father Icarius's house. I remember them so well that I, my dear son, will tell you the dishes your grandfather and my mother prepared on days like these. The prudent Telemachus then inquired. — Mother, with all due respect, is this the same story you tell me at this time of year? His mother laughed and at once sat him on her lap, lifting her son Telemachus with her pale arms, with the gentleness with which young women gather flowers. — Perhaps yes, perhaps no. Don't be exasperated by what the gods have instilled in my heart to tell you, so listen well, Telemachus, light of my life.
And seeing that his mother, as stubborn as an ox to the yoke, did not stray from her path, Telemachus, son of Odysseus, fell silent with a sigh.
"When the oak and the holm oak were covered with the pale foliage, proper to the season, we climbed towards Taygetes. Do you know what Taygetes is, Telemachus?"
— Yes, Mother.
— And what is it, O great knower of all that is visible and invisible? For I cannot continue my story if my son, son of the finest maned Danaus, my spirited lion and lord of the Cephaleni, does not know the most basic geography of Greece and the lands of Argos." A blush spread across Telemachus's cheeks, and he prudently replied: "A mountain more than 1,000 cubits high, overlooking the fertile Eurotas valley and its shores, even though it lies in the land of the Arcadians.
Penelope, queen of rugged Ithaca, responded with a smile:
— Excellent answer, light of my life, very good. Alas, vile son, you are not. It shows in your upright countenance and your cheerful eyes. But I will not prolong my speeches to praise you, for it is not good to inflate your ego, for the most satiated cattle are the first to be sacrificed, and you are quite puffed up.
Telemachus laughed as he grasped his mother's veil, trying to tear it off to observe her lovely hair and twirle it around his finger, and then, like a proud farmer at his work, he plucked the weeds from the fallow field. This was the custom of Telemachus, son of Penelope. But the Bassilea could not allow this to happen.
She carefully loosened her grip, forcing the infant's arms to her sides —Ill-born and ill-fated, the most stubborn of all children, did you not learn that your mother's hair is not to be touched? As if it were you who placed this veil on my hair! Come now, Telemachus, let me tell you my story, or I will tell Eurykleia, the nurse, to have her sandal ready." "You did well, Telemachus, to obey your mother, the most divine and wise of all the women of Argos.
Thus spoke, at last, Penelope, daughter of Icarus.
—When the oak and holm oak were covered with the pale foliage characteristic of the season, we would ascend to the eternal Taygetes, as was the custom. They said that one of my ancestors, the Pleiad Taygetes, had united with Zeus the Father, and from this union was born Lakedaimon, from whom we trace our lineage. Therefore, on the days when the snow begins to carve paths across the black earth, we would climb to visit her and offer wondrous libations in her name, for she, like a mother, guides and illuminates us, marking the safe beginning of our voyages and the start of the sowing season. After the sacrifice of the cattle and sheep, we would gather in a small clearing where my father and his brother Tyndareus, accompanied by bards and the sound of lyres, would recall how they overthrew their usurper brother and how they seized their rightful kingdom, later ruling together the lands of Lakedaimon. After this event, my oldest brothers, Alyzeus and Leucadius, swore an oath not to become enemies nor repeat their actions, for such thoughts in families as large as ours tend to take root faster than weeds cover the battlefield—the one where your father, the most beloved of mortals by me and the gods, finds himself in the fray on windy Troy, to return brimming with joy and bring back Helen, my cousin, in the black ships of the long-haired Danaans.
But boredom afflicted the patient Telemachus, who, with sighs, tried to hide his tedium. But Penelope, daughter of Icarius, is not short-sighted; she changed the story from her solemn childhood to more entertaining tales. She spoke thus with these winged words.
—Oh Telemakhos, the fussiest of children, it's true the story was long and tedious, but I thought you had a more rational and alert mind. But you are a child, and like them, you delight in the speed and pleasantness of stories. So listen to me now carefully, for this one is much shorter and lighter.
Noble Telemachus nodded, the gods pouring sweet sleep onto his eyelids, but Penelope, rich in wiles, did not know she who was beginning the new tale.
-- As children, we went to the clear currents of the Eurotas, where the dark and clear waters swirl and do not mix like oil and water. There is a small clearing of tender grass, cultivated by the Anthusoai, with hyacinthine hair, like your blameless father. Well, in this clearing we would take off our clothes and leave them lying on the thickets and rosemary bushes to soak up the scent. My brothers, your other uncles Polymelos and Damasiklos, moved in the water in different ways. Polymelos was like a wounded duck with a broken wing, while Damasiklos, on the contrary, moved like a fish that rises above the barren wasteland, similar to swallows in flight, soaring through the air. Then Iphtime, the dearest of my siblings, would not go near the water for fear that some invisible daughter of Eurotas might be pleased to carry her off, as happened to Philonoe with Artemis of the golden throne. As for me, your own mother, the water was indifferent to me, and it was the rushes and reeds that grow and sway on the riverbank that captured my attention. For they are like cords and threads, easy to work with when still green, and my mother, Dodorokhe to mortals, taught me how to spin them into bracelets, beads, and syrinxes for singing. My creations enlivened our stay, while Iphtime, ever cautious, always remained by my side, while my father, the blameless Ikarios, played the aulos in a clumsy manner, like a satyr intoxicated with sweet wine, going back and forth, and thus making us all laugh. Moreover, one day, among those when Zeus, father of all, allows the Dog to pour its heat across the Laconian plains, we climbed to this place, which remains green like the mountains nourished by Zeus's rains, with haste so that the foul miasma that arises at that time of year would not catch us. My father, exalted among mortals in his time, pitched his tent while the servants, proud, followed your grandfather's instructions. Our dear mother led us through the hills and valleys; hidden among the undergrowth was our resting place, far from our father, and slowly a mild breeze began to blow from among the fir trees, pleasant enough to refresh us. Mother stayed on the rock while Polymelos and Damasiklos did their thing. Iphtime, for her part, was already undressed and in the waters…
Then Telemachus' snores, like the roars of a lion, sought to destroy the thread of the tale, for the eternal gods had poured sleep upon his eyelids before, and he had not heard Penelope, divine among women. The daughter of Icarus, therefore, did not wish to awaken her son, who, like a fawn sleeping beside its mother, protected from all dangers, slept Telemachus, son of Penelope.
@weekofpenelope Thanks so much for this opportunity and hope that you liked it!
