I have a penchant for believing in ideas that are on their face, absurd. For example, I don't believe that the universe actually exists in the concrete way we like to think it does.
I had purchased a book by a French author: Nicole Loraux as translated by Caroline Levine called The Children of Athena. It talks about the ancient Athenians as children of Athena because their creation myth involves the unrequited sperm of a god, Hephaistos dripping off Athena's leg into the fertile earth from which sprang the Athenian race. For those interested the technical term is: autochthony; the first born Athenian was Erichthonios.
I couldn't pronounce it either.
At any rate, after purchasing this book (not because of the naked women on the cover), I had what you might call certain worshipful thoughts about Athena, for whom I have always had a certain lustful affection.
I envied Odysseus's relationship with Her: Brilliance, so seductively close.
I dreamed I was in an agricultural country in ancient times. In the distance, men were harvesting a crop in the grain fields. I stood before the Palace of the Queen, ancient, stone and marble construction and I was escorted by an older woman into a small room to wait.
A short while later a very young blond girl walked into the room and began dancing, not really paying attention to me. She wore only a sheer white cape that fell from around her throat almost to the floor.
It is deliciously entertaining that the book explained that the Goddess conducts "personal" relationships with those she favors with visitations as a young girl.
I wonder if she visited Odysseus that way.
