Latest news with #mythology
The Herald
2 days ago
- General
- The Herald
Which god will wash away the sin of America's attack on Iran
Modernity is a hot mess right now, so it's possible that after the hustle of Moon Day you're taking things easy on Tiw's Day and might only read this on Odin's Day, or perhaps Thor's Day, before you reach Frigg's Day and then relax on Saturn's Day and Sun Day. But whenever you do read it, try to spare a thought for poor old Tiw and Frigg, once A-listers among the Germanic gods but now, without even a walk-on in a Marvel movie, relegated to being little more than the answers to pub quizzes. They're not alone, of course: there's a whole pantheon of divine has-beens, gods who were revered and beseeched by our ancestors but who are now little more than historical footnotes. Consider Baal, once the go-to god of the Canaanites on all matters climatic and agricultural, a being so powerful that his name meant 'Lord'. But things change, and as soon as the early Israelites decided monotheism was more of a vibe and retired all their gods except Yahweh, the one in charge of war and weather, Baal was kicked to the heavenly curb. It also didn't help that he was still being worshipped by the Philistines next door, and before you could say 'Holy rebranding!' the beloved deity formerly known as Lord had become Baal-zebub and then Beelzebub, one of the princes of hell. Over the weekend as I watched the pagan US president take a moment away from worshipping Mammon and himself to ask Yahweh to bless the US, Israel and the Middle East (because apparently Israel isn't in the Middle East), I was reminded of how transient our gods really are, perhaps because so many of their followers are prone to changing their entire set of beliefs when it suits their earthly interests.
Daily Mail
3 days ago
- Daily Mail
CRAIG BROWN: Acropolis now - off the beaten track in Greece
Your unmissable, essential Guide To The Greek Islands of ancient myth. KIOSK Measuring 3ft 6in by 7ft, Kiosk is the smallest of the Greek Isles, but comes surprisingly well-stocked with street maps, cigarettes, magazines and cheaper items of confectionery. The perfect holiday destination for those who prefer to stay in one place, and ideal, too, for those looking to buy British Sunday newspapers on the following Thursday. IKEA A range of hotels recently opened on the popular Isle of Ikea. 'It's a whole new concept in luxury accommodation, designed for guests in search of something that little bit different,' boasts the brochure. On arrival, guests are awarded a free set of Allen keys to help them assemble their bed, chair, table and shower curtains. Explanatory diagrams, complete with arrows pointing in all directions, are provided free of charge. The island of Ikea offers plenty of useful activities, from pick-your-own-fruit farms to restaurants in which customers are given coal and matches, a string of sausages and easy-to-assemble cooking utensils. Those wishing to embark on a sunset cruise around the bay may hire transport, but remember to allow two-to-three hours to inflate your lilo. TYPOS 'Welmoce To Typos Airpot' reads the banner that greets tourists. Well-placed signs direct visitors to Car Prak, Trans, Currants Exchang, Lungage Pig-Up and Dirty Free. There's plenty to do on the island, including water-spots, hopping and crazy glof. Hellcopter rides are heavily boked. Typos is an isle of cotnrasts, with indrustial cities to the nroth, and rolling pills to the south. Luxury accomodation is provided by the Majestic, a five-rats muxury hotel. PARANOIA With its palm trees regularly swaying a full 180 degrees in the wind and its waves offering a once-in-a-lifetime experience to the unwary bather, the sun-drenched Isle of Paranoia is a must for those craving adventure. Be sure to drive your hire car at breakneck speed along the famously zig-zagging northern cliff route. The highways agency has thoughtfully placed irregular gaps in the clifftop barriers for those who wish to edge that little bit closer to catch sight of the sea crashing on to the rocks below. The Isle of Paranoia is self-governed by the military, which enforces strict codes of behaviour. Shorts are to be worn only by those under six years of age; seniors apprehended in shorts and/or baseball caps will find themselves enjoying six hours in the picturesque stocks adjacent to the famous tomato market. Important note for all tourists: two exit gates are to be found in the Paranoia Airport arrivals, letting visitors decide for themselves whether to go through Something To Declare or Something To Hide. PATHOS How many of these have you spotted so far? Six must-see sights on Pathos: 1) A one-eyed, three-legged dog called Lucky. 2) Liz Truss, complaining that Donald Trump still hasn't returned her call. 3) A clown fighting back tears. 4) A visitor centre, closed for the holidays. 5) A town crier who has lost his voice. 6) Liz Truss, boasting loudly over a tumbler of retsina that Rudy Giuliani has asked her to make herself available for dinner in November, on the off-chance that Huw Edwards can't make it. ATMOS The historic market town of Atmos prides itself on its multi-storey car park, statue of a 19th-century deputy mayor in a suit and tie, and a shopping mall boasting H&M, Gap, JD Sports and Walmart. The town's three-star Hotel Reasonable offers a lunchtime buffet of food left over from the previous night's dinner, but with added parsley. On no account miss the annual Neil Sedaka festival, this year hosted by Rylan Clark.
Daily Mail
3 days ago
- Daily Mail
MAUREEN CALLAHAN: On-screen wardrobe malfunctions humiliate Carolyn Bessette in death... but in life, suicidal JFK Jr treated her far worse
It's time, yet again, to take another bite out of the mythological Kennedy family carcass. Several bites, actually.
The Guardian
6 days ago
- Entertainment
- The Guardian
Poem of the week: The Song of Arachnid by Gillian Allnutt
The Song of Arachnid Webs are small and spacious as simplicity, See-through as a summer's day, old-fashioned as A slip of butter-muslin, girlhood's own, or A cotton hanky. We are poor predators, love to catch the light As it falls from the air, invaluable as What is not yet born, an acrobatic dot And carry one. It's Our Arachnid, ancestor, mother of all Of us, mother of gorm and of gormlessness Among women. Humble herself in origin, Hard she works through us. Nothing can cut the umbilical cord that Calls us back to her, her bellyful of thread Paid out and yet perpetual, her silken Sac where we began. She is alone, outwith the worn orb web of The world. She's woven into the wherewithal Of her own imagination, her mantle Of maternity. She is alone and she is loved among, as No-one else in all her anonymity. One foot on the mountain, one foot on the web's Her way, as she says. The legend of the weaving contest between the goddess Minerva (Pallas Athene) and the humbly born Arachne, is told by Ovid in Metamorphoses. The goddess is infuriated by Arachne's ingratitude for her talent, and horrified by the scenes of un-godly behaviour her magnificent weaving depicts. After Minerva has ripped up Arachne's work and beaten her with her shuttle, Arachne slips a noose around her neck. Minerva spares her life, but Arachne doesn't avoid punishment: 'Her whole body became tiny. Her slender fingers stuck to her sides as legs, the rest is belly, from which she still spins a thread, and, as a spider, still spins her ancient web.' In this week's poem, from Gillian Allnutt's new collection, Lode, Arachne becomes Arachnid, mother-spider and deified leader of her tribe. The ode that crowns Arachnid's annual festival offers the tribe's gratitude 'to her and to their own being in her', Allnutt's endnote tells us. Ovid's Arachne was rude and scornful about old age when Minerva appeared to her disguised as a grey-haired woman with a stick. Allnutt's poem doesn't only transform Arachne; it hands power to the singer-speaker, an elder of the tribe. Celebrating Arachnid's power, she affirms her own. Allnutt, who describes herself as a cultural Christian rather than a Christian poet, brings traces of Christian theology into her feminist and matriarchal narrative. Arachne's redemption is through humility, signalled in a delicately homely first stanza: 'Webs are small and spacious as simplicity / See-through as a summer's day, old-fashioned as / A slip of butter-muslin, girlhood's own.' 'Webs' (importantly plural) represent simplicity, openness, respect for tradition. Once defiant in the self-assertion of young genius, Arachne/Arachnid is restored by her spider-smallness to her true imaginative resources. Imperfection is admitted. Spiders are 'poor predators [who] love to catch the light / As it falls from the air': like all life-forms, they're devourers. Perhaps they're especially like artists and writers in seeing their prey not as meat but as moving light. The winged creatures such arachnids trap become their means of self-creation, the wonders of addition: 'What is not yet born, an acrobatic dot / And carry one.' Arachnid is always reborn, always mother. Her celebrant utters a gasp of thrilled discovery in the enjambment of verses two and three: 'It's // Our Arachnid.' Certain phrases in verse three evoke the rhythmic murmur of the prayer, Hail, Mary. But Allnutt's goddess is wonderfully, humorously, earthed. She's no 'Mother of God'. As 'ancestor, mother of all / Of us' Arachnid is also 'mother of gorm and gormlessness / Among women.' 'Gorm' may be a northern dialect word for 'understanding'. Understanding, of a deep, grainy, common-sense kind, is what registers in the poem. Its opposite, the more familiar 'gormlessness', is the less ideal aspect of 'simplicity'. Its use echoes the poem's refusal of unthinking praise – the kind of praise Minerva expected from Arachne. The children of the spider-goddess are imperfect, too. But they are still the offspring of a divine mother, the 'worn orb web' of earth, yet 'woven into the wherewithal / Of her own imagination, her mantle / Of maternity.' Allnutt refreshes her diction with inventive interweavings: little grammatical 'reversals' such as 'Hard she works through us' and words with an antique patina: 'silken', 'mantle', 'outwith', 'wherewithal'. Her alliterative music is a mnemonic web that reminds us that the tribal song lives by its orality. There are often whispers of end-rhyme. The tiny versatile spider of the word 'as' recurs in verses one, two and six, signalling resemblance, duration and motion – the thread that is 'paid out and yet perpetual'. In the last stanza, antithesis arrives at a more intriguing synthesis. The spider-goddess is 'alone and [she is ] loved among, as / No-one else in all her anonymity.' The quality of being 'among' others and 'anonymous' – but unique – becomes a specific tribute in the line, 'One foot on the mountain, one foot on the web's / Her way'. The reference is to Lilian Mohin's 1979 anthology of British feminist poetry, One Foot on the Mountain. A poetry anthology is an apt symbol of collectivism and individuality. And this particular anthology importantly 'mothered' the art and politics of its female contributors. Lilian Mohin is remembered here by Cherry Potts, who in turn went on to found the Arachne Press. Celebrating these poetic Mothers and their work, The Song of Arachnid presents the ecology of a feminised, maternally attentive cosmos in which weaving and mountaineering can both be 'her way' and its generous, ecofeminist vision is enhanced by the celebration of real-life poetic mothers. The Song of Arachnid was written for the Hardwick Park Festival of Minerva.
Daily Mail
7 days ago
- Daily Mail
MAUREEN CALLAHAN: There's a savage truth of JFK Jr and Carolyn Bessette's marriage... that America's legacy media STILL refuses to admit
It's time, yet again, to take another bite out of the mythological Kennedy family carcass. Several bites, actually.
