By Theseustoo
[Editor’s note: Short of reading time but I have picked out some nice pictures with the aid of a few key words.]

Oracle
Since the most ancient times the sovereignty of Lydia had belonged to the Heraclides; the dynasty which had been founded centuries ago by the god-like Heracles, whom the poets all say was the earthly son of the All-father; Almighty Zeus himself. However, the Lydian crown eventually passed out of their hands and through sheer chance it fell into the hands of the Mermnadae; the Lydian-born family of Croesus which had originally been founded by Gyges; Croesus’ own fifth ancestor.
This man had been the captain of the guard of the final king of the Heraclides dynasty, whose name was Candaules. This king had been so proud of his wife’s beauty that he had wished to confirm his belief that she was the most beautiful of all women. To this end he had persuaded Gyges to hide behind his wife’s chamber door before she retired, and spy on her as she undressed for bed. Unfortunately, however, he had been seen by the queen, who, in her desire for revenge, had eventually goaded him into murdering her husband, the king.
Thus Gyges usurped Candaules’ throne and stole his wife; putting an end to the Heraclides dynasty and removing the descendants of Heracles from power forever. The incident which had so outraged his queen, however, was in no way Gyges’ fault. In truth it was providence itself, rather than any base or ignoble ambition, which had prompted his action; and although at first there was a huge public outcry against the regicide, eventually the decision of the Delphic Oracle had vindicated him and the people of Lydia were persuaded finally to accept him as their monarch. Thus after several generations of Greek rule under the Heraclides, the throne of Lydia was finally returned to Lydian hands.

Mermaidae
Croesus, son of Alyattes, was the fifth Mermnadae King of Lydia; succeeding to his father’s throne at the age of thirty-five. Now, ever since Gyges had freed the Lydians from the Greek yoke, the Mermnadae kings of Lydia had wondered how they might revenge themselves for the indignities they had suffered during Lydia’s prolonged period of subjection to Greek occupation and rule. However, it would not be until the reign of the legendary and fabulously wealthy, King Croesus, that Lydia at last had the opportunity to do something about it. As often happens, revenge and ambition went hand in hand for Croesus; and as he grew in wealth and experience, so too grew both his desire for revenge and his ability to accomplish it; as a result, he developed imperial ambitions.
Turning his armies first against the Greek cities in Ionia and Aeolia, Croesus attacked Ephesus. When he laid siege to the city, the Ephesians made an offering of the whole city to their goddess, Artemis by stretching a rope from the town wall to her temple, a good seven furlongs distant from the ancient city. Unwilling to incur the wrath of the Ephesians’ dreaded and bloodthirsty goddess, Artemis; Croesus was thus obliged to spare the lives of the city’s inhabitants.
After this he made war on every Ionian and Aeolian state one after the other, on any pretext he could find or invent, regardless of how flimsy the excuse. Thus he eventually made himself master of all the Greek cities in Asia west of the River Halys, forcing them to become his vassals and tributaries until his interest in war and conquest waned after the tragic death of his son and heir, Atys, whom he mourned for two full years.
Eventually however, the news which had spread through the region like wildfire, of Cyrus’ meteoric rise to power in Persia, would drag the monarch out of mourning and return his wandering attention once again to the land of the living as Persia very suddenly began to expand the boundaries of her own empire, to eventually become the only force in Asia with both the numbers and the leadership to represent a threat to the Lydians. Lydia’s recently conquered and newly subjugated empire was now at its zenith; her warriors had a well-earned a reputation for being the best and bravest in all Asia at that time; as the power of the Assyrians had been effectively nullified generations earlier by the Median revolt.
When Cyrus’ rose to power, he soon conquered all of the smaller states around Media and Persia, which had hitherto been tributaries of Babylon and her Assyrian rulers. Asia was thus now effectively divided into two regions: the western region, consisting of all the Ionian and Aeolian cities to the west of the River Halys, now ruled by the fabulously wealthy Croesus; and the eastern region, which was now ruled by the upstart Cyrus of Persia who had overthrown the Medes who had hitherto ruled Asia ever since it was first conquered by Astyages’ father and Cyrus’ own great-grand-father, the bellicose Cyaxares.

Assyrian
It was Cyaxares who had finally driven out the horde of Scythian invaders whose incursion into Media had caused a twenty-eight year interruption in their on-going revolutionary war with the Assyrians. Eventually the cunning of Cyaxares had prevailed; he had all of the Scythian leaders murdered at a treacherous feast; after which the rest of the invaders were chased right out of Asia. The Assyrians too, were then finally defeated and forced to flee from their capital city, Nineveh, until that too was taken by the Medes.
The remainder of the Assyrian nobility then fled to Babylon where they established a government in exile in what was now their final remaining stronghold, behind her high and famously impenetrable blue-glazed walls.
*** ***** ***


I’ve just sent Gerard an email with the story of Gyges attached, atomou, just for you!
🙂
Editor’s Note: The story of Gyges is now posted. Also, Lydia’s photo has been updated.
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I love the pun: Mermaidae/Mermnadae. Aussie rhyming slang?
Oh, incidentally, this was also an example of the differences in morals between the Greeks and the rest of the world -particularly, that of the East: Whereas the Easterners would find the sight of a naked person (male or female) as shameful, the Greeks loved it and welcomed it. The wrestling arenas, the bordellos… The Spartans, of course, insisted upon it! Different morals, different politics, different way of life.
OK. I’ll shut up now!
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I leeeerv Lydia. Lydia Bella Slava is my favourite heroine in the classics. She won my heart and soul from the first moment I clapped eyes on her name!
Poor Candaules, though! What an idiot. People might not know that there exists the word “candaulism,” directly related to the old king’s fetish -or is it a psychosis of some sort?- whereby the man wanted to boast that much of the beauty of his conquest that he’d have his mates hidden in shady corners to take a glimpse of his conquest in the nuddy!
Perhaps, Theseus could pause a minute to tell us the full story on that little event. It’s a charming tale. This little story, to diverge a little from it and to discuss the differences between the two Historiographers, Herodotus (out of whom this tale comes) and his successor and almost contemporary (they might have even met at some point in life) Thucydides, this tale, I say, is often used to show the difference between the two guys: Herodotus would give the blame for this event (as all events) to the gods, Zeus, mainly, whereas, Thucydides would never do so. The latter was a serious writer of History and would always look for proof, evidence, eyewitnesses, etc. The deeds of men were their own deeds and the gods would be left out of the picture. He was, after all, trying to record the most important series of events in the true history of his race. The Peloponesian War, (aka the war between Athens and Sparta.)
Plato also makes mention of Gyges (Candaules’ successor) and says that Gyges used a magical ring which would make him invisible, like the gods and that’s how he got the throne from Candaules.
Forgive me Theseus, if I’m chomping bits out of your story or sending you off in all sorts of other paths. I’m a hungry and undisciplined boy some times! By all means extract revenge next time I’m telling my tale!
But that is the problem, isn’t it? The tales are so vast, with so many paths and alleyways to choose from that eventually one must sacrifice one lot of stories to tell another to its conclusion. Just those two books alone are a huge treasure chest of stories, let alone all the other equally enchanting books. A life time is simply too short!
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Revenge? For what atomou? For asking questions? It would be a stupid person indeed who would insist on revenge for such a thing… and indeed your questions are my teachers!
Besides, I believe, along with Euripides, that revenge is always folly and that desire for revenge springs from an insufficiency or pettiness of spirit…
Of course, having said that, I intend to throw as many ‘curly’ questions your way as I can! Is that a revenge? Or a reward?
😉
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Leeeeeerv them curlies, theseus!
I can think of nothing more heavenly than sipping a cup of Greek coffee and a shot of ouzo, in the company of friends, by the sea shore, pondering over curlies! “Imagine,” we’d stimulate each other, “what Odysseus saw, looking into the vast ocean, from the colonaded porch of his palace, AFTER he had purified his home from the attrocious sins committed by his wife’s suitors and (to use Homer’s own word) the sluts that helped those suitors. Bliss was behind him, adventure, probably worse than that he had suffered at war for ten years and at sea for another ten years, lie before him. Was the wine- blue sea beckoning to him or warning him?”
“Imagine,” we’d go on, “having seen the sirens and heard their song! Would you want to go back? Or Circe, or Capypso? Would you risk it? Fate had it all sort it out for him if he stayed in Ithaca, by the side of his faithful wife, Penelope and his loving and brave son, Telemachus. Peace, tranquility, serenity of soul. His previous night in his rooted bed with his wife was the first blissful night he’d had for over twenty years. Yet, could he cope with that, for the rest of his life?”
And then, there is a task he must perform: He must go until he finds a place the inhabitants of which know nothing of the sea and mistake an oar for a winnow-fan. There he must perform a sacrifice of thanks to Poseidon, who, though was extremely angry at Odysseus for killing his son, Polyphemus, the Cyclops, he nevertheless allowed Odysseus to traverse his vast waters and get home…
Kazantzakis said no way, Odysseus was not a peace-loving man; his mind was ever-turning, ever-wondering, wandering, ever-hungry, thirsty, restless, reckless, wild… so he sent him off to a new adventure. Another twenty four songs, another 33,333 verses, each 17 syllables long.
“God,” his Odysseus finally yells as he was stuck on steep iceberg hanging by the tips of his fingernails, with winds strong enough to open graves, “God, rip the flesh from my body and let me be just spirit! Pure spirit!” By then he had met all the main gods, from Buddha to Jesus, to Don Quixote. Which god was in his mind?
What do you reckon, theseus? Would the sea be beckoning to you or would it be warning you. And would you take any notice of what the sea was doing anyhow? Before you answer, take a sip of coffee and then a sip of ouzo, swish it around in your mouth so that its fumes can enter every corner of your brain. Do that slowly and carefully before you answer.
Hope your foot is well! My young one was also involved in an accident with her scooter, had her leg in a “vice” for months and yesterday she slipped on our floor, which I had just mopped but was still dry. Poor kid, her knee gave her hell!
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Sorry to hear about your daughter, atomou; she certainly has my sympathy.
As for myself, my foot is gradually improving, I suppose… I’m going into hospital tomorrow (Tuesday) to have all the scrap metal taken out of it (well, most of it at least!) Then they’ll put my foot in a ‘moonboot’ (whatever one of those is!) and with any luck I may be just marginally more mobile than I currently am…
Dunno about your question re ‘if I were Odysseus’ having just returned home… I’d want to stay for a while, but, having learned the lessons provide by the Lotus Eaters and Circe, I would be very wary of the danger of too much domestic ‘bliss’, which can very easily weaken a man. The ‘comforts of home’ are perhaps only for women and old men…
But I’m sure that even if I were to succumb to the tempting comforts of home, that as I sat on the beach sipping my ouzo and coffee, that I would undoubtedly get some very severe bouts of ‘itchy feet’… Once a wanderer, always a wanderer!
😉
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The question whether Odysseus would stay or go off again is also a question of comparisons: that of him being the adventurer and his wife being the one who stayed home. Did she, in fact, have more tortuous adventures to deal with than her husband?
Odysseus has angered Poseidon and so, his glory as a victor of the Trojan war (he was, in fact, instrumental in that victory) was turned into a ten year long torment, losing also also his men.
Penelope had done nothing wrong, yet she had to suffer the presence of the despicable thirty suitors for almost just as long. Her longing for her husband alone would have been torment enough, let alone the constant harrasment of these wrotters. She also had to raise a son and take care of the aging parents and parents-in-law.
So who got the better or worse deal?
The other interesting things is that neither wanted Odysseus to go off to war. You might remember, when Agamemnon’s envoy to Ithaca came for him, he pretended to have gone mad, so as to escape the conscription. Still fuming over Helen’s rejection!
He yoked a donkey and an ox to his plough and then began sowing his field with salt. Palamedes, worked out what Odysseus was up to and put Telemachus, Odysseus’ baby son, in front of the plough. Odysseus, of course, steered his plough away and so little trick fell apart.
So, neither wanted to leave Ithaca but both had to deal with the consequences.
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atomou, I love the way you remind me of even the most obscure tales regarding the Trojan War… I’d almost forgotten this interesting piece of trickery by Odysseus; one of his rare, unsuccessful ruses…
😉
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This is a lovely juxtaposition: Theseus’ tale of ancient Greek myths and Voicec’s cats and a modern-day Lydia.
A lesson in classics , and I’m smiling!
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