Lena Corazon

Flights of Fancy

Category: Wicked Wednesdays

Odysseus and Penelope: A Love Steadfast and Enduring

Long as the day in the summer time
Deep as the wine dark sea
I’ll keep your heart with mine.
Till you come to me

– Loreena McKennitt, “Penelope’s Song”

I’ve had romance and myth on the brain for the past few days, the former because I’ve been busy devouring regency romance novels, and the latter because I’ve been watching documentaries about Joseph Campbell and the hero’s journey.

Greek Romance Sketches, by Kate Beaton

Somewhere in the bubbling cauldron that is my brain, romance and myth merged together, and I started thinking about my favorite love stories from Greek and Roman mythology.  The ancients are a passionate bunch; hatred and death tango side-by-side with love and romance.

As a child, I found that classical mythology challenged my notion of happily-ever-after, honed and sharpened from too many Disney films (I was actually slightly horrified after I watched Disney’s Hercules and then read the *real* myth. So much death!).  After a while, however, I came to appreciate this world where gods meddled and interfered (see: every myth ever written), and mortals were driven by their base instincts and egos.

All of this leads me to Homer’s Odyssey, one of my favorite epic poems.  Unlike poor Echo and Narcissus above, Odysseus and his wife Penelope do experience a happy ending.

The storyline is simple: Odysseus has spent 20 years trying to return to his home in Ithaka after the end of the Trojan War.  Along the way he manages to offend both gods and mortals (including Poseidon, who is enraged at the way Odysseus taunts and provokes the Cyclops), but through his wily intelligence, and the guidance of “grey-eyed Athena,” he manages to finally return home.

There he discovers that his home has been overrun by 108 (!) men attempting to win Penelope’s hand in marriage, as they believe him to be dead. Odysseus and his son, Telemachus, slay the suitors, and finally, the wandering warrior can be reunited with his wife.

It’s the reunion that makes my poor little heart stutter and my eyes mist up. Penelope is shrewd, and she challenges Odysseus to prove his identity.  In response he describes how he built their marriage bed with his own hands, fashioning it around an ancient olive tree:

An old trunk of olive
grew like a pillar on the building plot,
and I laid out our bedroom round that tree,
lined up the stone walls, built the walls and roof,
gave it a doorway and smooth-fitting doors.
Then I lopped off the silvery leaves and branches,
hewed and shaped that stump from the roots up
into a bedpost, drilled it, let it serve
as a model for the rest.  I planed them all,
inlaid them all with silver, gold and ivory,
and stretched a bed between — a pliant web
of oxhide thongs dyed crimson.

There’s our sign!
I know no more.  Could someone else’s hand
Have sawn that trunk and dragged the frame away?

Homer tells us that Penelope kisses Odysseus at last when he offers this sign, and in response, he weeps:

Now from his breast into his eyes the ache
of longing mounted, and he wept at last,
his dear wife, clear and faithful, in his arms,
longed for
as the sunwarmed earth is longed for by a swimmer
spent in rough water where his ship went down
under Poseidon’s blows, gale winds and tons of sea…
she too rejoiced, her gaze upon her husband,
her white arms round him pressed as though forever.

Swoon.  It’s just so romantic. 

I admit, I have a crush on Odysseus.  It doesn’t help that I read The Odyssey after watching Troy, where Odysseus was portrayed by Sean Bean (imagining Sean Bean building a marriage bed for his beloved with his own hands = hot).  But I digress.

Sean Bean as Odysseus in "Troy" (Source: The Guardian UK)

The more I think about it, the more I come to appreciate Penelope’s fortitude, intelligence, and strength.  Loreena McKennitt, one of my favorite singers, articulates these very qualities in “Penelope’s Song,” described as “a paean to steadfast love.”

Although Penelope didn’t have to brave the retribution of gods and men for twenty years, she had to wait for twenty years, rearing a son, evading the suitors, and holding onto the belief that Odysseus lived.  I’m reminded of a passage from Jane Austen’s Persuasion, where Anne Elliot argues that women “love longest, when existence or when hope is gone.” She continues,

We certainly do not forget you so soon as you forget us.  It is, perhaps, our fate rather than our merit.  We live at home, quiet, confined, and our feelings prey on us. You are forced on exertion.  You have always a profession, pursuits, business of some sort or other, to take you back into the world immediately, and continual occupation and change soon weaken impressions.

"Penelope Unraveling Her Web," by Joseph Wright of Derby

While Penelope might have been confined, she isn’t completely helpless.  She uses her own techniques to thwart the suitors and to undermine their advances.  For example, she promises to choose a husband from among them only after she weaves a burial shroud for her father-in-law; however, she secretly undoes part of the shroud every few nights in an attempt to delay her decision and to buy herself more time.

Penelope a remarkable character and the perfect mate for a hero like Odysseus. They are lovers and partners; Homer (at least from my reading) makes it clear that they relate with one another as equals, and by the end, they are left in marital bliss — or so I like to imagine!

What are your favorite romantic couples from myth and legend? Do you prefer star-crossed and tragic lovers, or ones who manage to weather the odds and achieve a happy ending?

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Jumping Aboard the Lucky 7 Meme-Mobile

I won’t lie — I absolutely love watching memes spread through the interwebz like wildfire. The Lucky 7 meme has been particularly fun to watch, because there’s nothing like seeing snippets from other writers’ WIPs.

Thanks to the ever-wonderful Rachel Funk Heller and J.R. Pearse Nelson, Lucky 7 madness has made it to Flights of Fancy. These are the rules:

1. Go to page 77 of your current MS/WIP

2. Go to line 7

3. Copy down the next 7 lines, sentences, or paragraphs, and post them as they’re written.

4. Tag 7 authors, and let them know.

I’m posting 7 sentences from page 77 of PATH TO THE PEACOCK THRONE, my fantasy WIP that I worked on during NaNoWriMo 2011 (synopsis here). I have resisted my inner perfectionist’s urge to tweak/edit/overhaul the heck out of it (’cause seeing excerpts in raw form is part of the fun), so be gentle. 😀

I hadn’t realized how thirsty I was until the waterskin touched my lips, and then I was guzzling down the clear liquid greedily, splashing the rest over my face. Flynne watched, a bemused expression on her face at my enthusiasm. “You’re going to have to freshen up before we reach shore. You’ve clearly spent far too much time among us.”

I returned her grin, her words filling me with a strange mix of pride and regret. I wasn’t ready to leave the Diomedea, but then again, when had anything happened to me when I was ready? My father had been taken long before his time; my home, brother, and very identity had been stripped in a single swoop, no warning involved. This voyage over the sea had seemed like the whole and sum of my world, and yet it was just a short break in a much longer, and much more scary, journey, an interim of sorts.

To continue the chain, I’m tagging the following authors. Go to it, friends!

David Ludwig

Meg McNulty

Angela Wallace

Marcia Richards

Alana Saltz

Debra Eve

Ginger Calem

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Revisiting Hot Men of History

I’m spending the week gallivanting around town for spring break, so I’m revisiting one of my favorite posts. Enjoy!

-oOo-

I am a dork for history, and one of the side effects of this affliction is my tragic tendency to crush on men from the past. This is, I suppose, the epitome of unrequited love, second only to that other disorder, falling in love with fictional characters (a blog post in and of itself).

However, I’m not alone in this.  My high school American History teacher, for example, used to talk at length about her undying love for former U.S. presidents John Adams and Teddy Roosevelt, and over the years, my friends have confided their own hidden attraction to prominent historical figures, both famous and infamous. The internet has helped to reinforce my silly crushes, especially blogs like My Daguerrotype Boyfriend and Hotties From History.

For fun, I offer a selection of my Top 4 Hot Men of History:

"Alexander Hamilton (1757-1804) in the Uniform of the New York Artillery" by Alonzo Chappel (1828-1887)

Number 4 on my list is Alexander Hamilton (1755-1804), also known as the gentleman whose face graces the United States’ ten dollar bill.  He was a smarty pants, co-authoring the Federalist Papers with such luminaries as John Jay (the first chief justice of the Supreme Court) and James Madison (the 4th president of the U.S.). The Federalist Papers were a series of essays defending the American constitution, published during the Revolutionary War, and continue to be cited by constitutional lawyers and judges today.

Hamilton was also the country’s first Secretary of the Treasury. As part of his job, he helped to construct the Bank of the United States, the first central bank in the country’s history. He also helped to establish the national mint, which created a single currency for the whole country (as opposed to the hodgepodge of over 50 currencies being used in the latter part of the 1700s). I still haven’t quite forgiven Aaron Burr for killing Hamilton in a duel.

Yes, I hold grudges against historical figures. Don’t judge me.

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Wicked Wednesdays: The Suavest Angel of Them All

The Bishop's Wife

(Image via RottenTomatoes.com)

Each week for Wicked Wednesdays, I like to share something that I love, virtues as well as vices. Today, given that we are well in the midst of the holiday season, I’d like to talk about my favorite Christmas film: Samuel Goldwyn’s 1947 classic, The Bishop’s Wife, starring Cary Grant, Loretta Young, and David Niven. There are many wonderful Christmas movies from the “Golden Age” of Hollywood (Miracle on 34th Street, It’s a Wonderful Life, Holiday Inn), but I think this is one of the unsung classics from the period.

The film tells the story of Henry Brougham, a cold-hearted bishop (Niven) too blinded by ambition to pay attention to his wife (Young), their daughter, or the people who have supported him. His goal — to build a glorious cathedral — consumes all of his passion and energy, and distracts him from his faith in god and everyone around him. In a form of “divine intervention,” an angel (Grant) is sent to restore the bishop’s faith, and set him back on the right path.

If the storyline sounds somewhat familiar, that may be because it was remade in 1996 as The Preacher’s Wife, starring Denzel Washington and Whitney Houston. In my opinion, the remake was only so-so (although Denzel is mighty fine to look at). As with so many movies, there is nothing like the original.

There’s so much to love about The Bishop’s Wife. For starters, the cast is phenomenal — the leading actors bring quite a bit of star power with them, and the supporting cast, including Monty Wooley, Elsa Lanchester, and Gladys Cooper, add to the magic. Cooper is particularly memorable as the icy, materialistic Mrs. Hamilton, the wealthy widow who is helping the bishop to finance the cathedral, but who insists on using her financial contribution to micro-manage the project and control the bishop. Even better is the script, which manages to be funny and heart-warming all at once, without slipping into overly-saccharine sappiness.

Of course, it is Cary Grant who steals my heart, and given the strength of the cast, that’s saying a lot.  As Dudley, Grant is his usual suave, debonair self, inserting himself into the bishop’s household with easy grace and a twinkling smile. In many ways, Dudley reminds me of a male Mary Poppins, emerging out of nowhere to brighten the lives of everyone around him. In the opening scenes alone, he rescues a baby in a runaway stroller and helps a blind man cross the street, and the good deeds continue throughout the film.

A bit of eyecandy, because I cannot resist:

Looking too dashing for his own good (source: The Elegant Age)

Reading Loretta Young's palm (Source unknown)

As an angel, Dudley also helps to restore the faith of those around him. One wonderful example comes about half-way through the movie, with his story about divine inspiration and Psalm 23, “The Lord is My Shepherd.”

For those of you who enjoy classic Hollywood, I highly recommend watching this film. It is filled with many more gems, including the most charming ice-skating scene I’ve ever seen in my life. I could say so much more, but I’d rather not give away too many spoilers. However, I will leave you with this clip, which is probably my favorite moment in the entire movie: the performance by the real-life Mitchell’s Boys Choir, singing “O Sing To God” by French composer Charles Gounod.

What are your favorite films to watch during the holiday season?

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Wicked Wednesdays: The Importance of Community, And Blog Awards

Today’s Wicked Wednesday post is a little late, but it was one of those days where everything else seemed to take precedence to blogging. But according to my clock, it is still Wednesday, so here we are. Today, I’m thinking about the magical, wonderful online community of writers, and passing out shiny new blog awards!

Finding my way to the online writing community is probably one of the best things to happen to me. Not better than, say, finishing college or getting into graduate school, but pretty darn close.

See, I’ve always been something of a loner. It wasn’t necessarily by choice; I was labeled the Smart Kid in elementary school, and never really grew out of it. As many of you might know, becoming the Smart Kid is akin to social suicide: the cool kids think you’re lame, no one wants to hang out with you, and everyone assumes that you’re nothing more than, y’know, a pulsating brain in a chair — no personality, no wants or needs, just a vat of intelligence that’s there to dispense information.

“Lena, what’s the answer to number 3? Lena, will you do my homework for me? No? But you understand this book so much better than I do, and…”

No, I’m not bitter. Seriously, guys, I swear.

Anyway, as a result, I didn’t get much more social than hanging out with my tiny cadre of fellow outcasts during lunch breaks. I spent most of my time alone, immersing myself in make-believe worlds of books, poetry, and creative writing. That solitude became my refuge, and after a few brushes with clingy, toxic friendships in high school and college, being alone seemed far preferable than anything else.

But humans are social creatures, and we crave connection and intimacy with others. I tried to go it alone after my writing partner and I “broke up” after 5 years of working together (the relationship rather imploded in the messiest and most painful of ways). After close to to years of writer’s block, though, it became really clear to me that the Silent-Loner-Writer thing just wasn’t going to work. I didn’t want to collaborate again, but I needed people. I needed feedback. Better yet, I needed non-grad students who I could talk to about writing and books, about things that weren’t anchored in the dysfunctional dynamics of academia, or my thesis topic, or the other old conversations that make grad student gatherings feel so suffocating.

I started this quest for community just over 1 year ago, when I signed up for a Livejournal account and started poking at the world of fan fiction again. A month or so later, I broke up with my boyfriend of almost 2 years, and the imperative to write and connect became even stronger. I latched onto writing communities on LJ, and while that helped a bit, there were only a handful of people who were involved and committed.

Fast-forward a bit, to May 2011, when I accidentally stumbled upon A Round of Words in 80 Days. When I say “stumbled,” I do mean it. One of my LJ friends linked to the Plot Whisperer, and I went peeking at her site. I started poking at her blogroll, and eventually I found one that was talking about some ‘ROW80 check-in.’ I followed that link, and lo! History was made.

ROW80 led me to an amazing network of supportive, engaging, creative, and wonderful people. It also pushed me to dust off my long-defunct Twitter account so I could hang out over at the #ROW80 hashtag. In turn, Twitter opened the doors to the #myWANA crowd, and to an unbelievable treasure trove of blogfests, writing challenges, writing blogs, fun communities… Really, I could go on and on.

If someone had told me last November that, in a year, I’d be furiously writing my way towards winning NaNoWriMo, I would have laughed in their faces. If that same person had added that I’d have over a dozen flash fiction pieces and three novels in-progress to my credit, I would have laughed even harder. And if that strange, bizarre, crazy person also said that I’d have over 600 followers on Twitter and a Google Reader bursting at the seams with amazing blogs written by people I would call friends, I would’ve checked them for mental problems.

But it happened, improbably enough, and as we speed ever closer to Thanksgiving, I find myself more grateful for this community than ever. My mother, who knows me better than anyone, told me recently that this is the happiest I’ve been in ages. I know it’s due in large part to the enthusiasm, support, and genuine caring that I’ve found from all of you. So consider this blog post a sort of love letter to all of you, dear friends and readers.

As part of this mutual lovefest, I am passing out blog awards! It seems as though I’ve been accumulating them over the past few weeks, hoarding them up because I haven’t had the chance to pass them along, but I am sending them along at last. 🙂

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Wicked Wednesdays: Literature and The Adventuring Academic

Today kicks off Wicked Wednesdays, which is much more tame than it might sound at first.  Wednesdays will now be the day when I blab about guilty pleasures and oh-so-pleasant vices, broadly conceived.

Today’s topic: books about scholars!

For as long as I can remember, I’ve loved books about intrepid academics who leave behind the dusty archives of the day-job, only to find themselves embroiled in the midst of heart-pounding adventure.  It is, perhaps, wishful thinking on some level.  As a PhD student in sociology with a (un?)healthy obsession with historical archives, I harbor the hope that one day, my pursuit of knowledge might take me on a voyage or two of my own.

When it comes to literature, I find that academics make wonderful protagonists.  By nature, they’re curious, intelligent, and good at digging for clues.  Better yet, they don’t quite know how to stay away from potentially dangerous objects, because, y’know, the drive for knowledge is all-consuming.  They also have the potential for fish-out-of-water hilarity — just think of what happens when a staid and stodgy scholar is yanked out of her comfort zone (classroom, library, well-furnished office) and thrust into life-threatening danger.

Here are my top 5 favorite books starring academics:

5. A Wizard in Rhyme, Christopher Stasheff

Christopher Stasheff’s A Wizard in Rhyme series was one of my first books I read featuring a scholarly protagonist. The books fell into my hands during my freshman year of high school, passed along by my friend Ella once she learned that I was a fellow fantasy lover. The main character, Matt, is a English PhD student working his way through a thorny dissertation when a series of strange runes leads him into an alternate universe, where speaking in rhyme is the key to wielding magic.  With a brain filled with poetry and verse, he finds himself an unlikely hero, inadvertently battling the forces of evil in order to free an imprisoned queen.

Stasheff’s novels are filled with humor and adventure, along with a dash of romance, which I love. My only regret is that Stasheff seems to have abandoned the series; the last book published was The Feline Wizard, in 2000.

4. Spell of the Highlander, Karen Marie Moning

Right, I admit it: I have a huge weak spot for romance novels involving harried, overworked academic gals (this has nothing, I repeat, nothing, of my own personal fantasies bound up in this, I swear). Moning, who writes some of the best bodice-rippers starring brawny, kilt-wearing, Scottish alpha men, earned my undying love and devotion when she wrote Spell of the Highlander, featuring anthropology PhD student Jessi St. James.

Jessi’s world changes when she accepts a package sent to her dissertation advisor: a strange mirror that just happens to house a ninth-century Scottish Druid who is, of course, sex on legs.  This book is not about scholarly hunts for knowledge (unless, er, you count carnal knowledge?), but my list would be sadly incomplete without it. 😉

3. The Physick Book of Deliverance Dane, Katherine Howe

I stumbled upon this book in the bargain section of my local Borders during its going-out-of-business sale. I’d never heard of it before, but the blurb hooked me immediately with the magical words “Harvard graduate student,” “Salem witch trials,” and “unearth[ing] a rare artifact of singular power.”

Connie Goodwin, Harvard graduate student and main character, discovers a strange old key hidden in the bookshelf of her grandmother’s abandoned home. The key contains a slip of paper with the name “Deliverance Dane” written upon it, and Connie finds herself obsessed with uncovering this mysterious woman’s identity. Her search is ultimately bound up with her own family’s history and her identity, and involves plenty of digging about in archives, along with more than a few brushes with danger.

As an aspiring scholar-novelist, I was quite happy to learn that Howe, who has a PhD in American and New England Studies herself, began writing the book while studying for her doctoral qualifying exams. She also drew on her own family history for inspiration (her bio notes that she “is a descendant of Elizabeth Proctor, who survived the Salem witch trials, and Elizabeth Howe, who did not”).

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