An episode in an unremembered tale,

Its beginning lost, its motive and plot concealed,

A once living story has prepared and made

Our present fate, child of past energies.

 

The fixity of the cosmic sequences

Fastened with hidden inevitable links

She must disrupt, dislodge by her soul's force

Her past, a block on the immortal's road,

Make a rased ground and shape anew her fate.

 

A colloquy of the original Gods

Meeting upon the borders of the unknown,

Her soul's debate with embodied Nothingness

Must be wrestled out on a dangerous dim background:

Her being must confront its formless Cause,

Against the universe weigh its single self.

A Colloquy of the Olympian Gods

 

There are four very great events in history, the siege of Troy, the life and crucifixion of Christ, the exile of Krishna in Brindavan and the colloquy with Arjuna on the field of Kurukshetra. The siege of Troy created Hellas, the exile in Brindavan created devotional religion (for before there was only meditation and worship), Christ from his cross humanised Europe, the colloquy at Kurukshetra will yet liberate humanity. Yet it is said that none of these four events ever happened. ~ Sri Aurobindo: Thoughts and Aphorism: Jnana 40

 

One of the great events in history is the Siege of Troy, a real event that took place a little more than three thousand years ago. In it the soul of a new nation was born and with it began a new civilization. From the ashes of Troy arose Hellas, mighty and wise and perfect in fullness. In that war participated not only the heroic warriors but also powerful gods and goddesses. It was a willed event, and there seems no doubt about it. But there were fit and capable instruments also to bring it about, into reality. Even today we owe such a great deal, that we begin to wonder if such a gift could come to we small mortal creatures at all. Nine years went by and it was the last year of the siege. Chryses the priest of Apollo was offended and the Greek army was afflicted by a plague let loose by the god. But, in a side story, the defeatless Achilles was sulking and refused to put on his armour, refused to rush into the battle. Agamemnon, the leader of the front, pleaded Thetis, Achilles’s mother, to intercede with Zeus with a strategy to give upper hand to the Trojans, making it imperative for Achilles to step in. It worked. Here is Thetis in a colloquy with Zeus: (from an Internet translation)

 

Meanwhile, Achilles, divinely born son of Peleus,

sat down in anger alongside his swift ships. Not once

did he attend assembly where men win glory

or go out to fight. But he pined away at heart,

remaining idle by his ships, yearning

for the hue and cry and clash of battle.

Twelve days later, the company of gods came back

together to Olympus, with Zeus in the lead.

Thetis did not forget the promise to her son.

She rose up through the ocean waves at daybreak,

then moved high up to great Olympus. She found Zeus,

wide-seeing son of Cronos, some distance from the rest,

seated on the highest peak of many-ridged Olympus.

She sat down right in front of him. With her left hand,

she clutched his knees, with her right she cupped his chin,

in supplication to lord Zeus, son of Cronos:

"Father Zeus, if, among the deathless gods,

I've ever served you well in word or deed,

then grant my prayer will be fulfilled.

Bring honour to my son, who, of all men

will be fate's quickest victim. For just now,

Agamemnon, king of men, has shamed him.

He seized his prize, robbing him in person,

and kept it for himself. But honour him,

Zeus, all-wise Olympian. Give the Trojans

the upper hand, until Achaeans respect my son,

until they multiply his honours."

Thetis finished. Cloud gatherer Zeus did not respond.

He sat a long time silent. Thetis held his knees,

clinging close, repeating her request once more:

"Promise me truly, nod your head, or deny me—

since there's nothing here for you to fear—

so I'll clearly see how among all gods

I enjoy the least respect."

Cloud gatherer Zeus, greatly troubled, said:

"A nasty business.

What you say will set Hera against me.

She provokes me so with her abuse. Even now,

in the assembly of immortal gods,

she's always insulting me, accusing me

of favouring the Trojans in the war.

But go away for now, in case Hera catches on.

I'll take care of this, make sure it comes to pass.

Come, to convince you, I'll nod my head.

Among gods that's the strongest pledge I make.

Once I nod my assent, nothing I say

can be revoked, denied, or unfulfilled."

Zeus, son of Cronos, nodded his dark brows.

The divine hair on the king of gods fell forward,

down over his immortal head, shaking Olympus

to its very base. The conference over, the two parted.

The deed was done. Events started rolling with epic speed. But all was not well, and there was a quarrel in the House of the Lord:

 

In Zeus' home the Olympian gods began to quarrel.

Then that famous artisan, Hephaestus, concerned

about his mother, white-armed Hera, spoke to them:

"A troublesome matter this will prove—

unendurable—if you two start fighting

over mortal men like this, inciting gods to quarrel.

If we start bickering, we can't enjoy the meal,

our excellent banquet. So I'm urging mother,

though she's more than willing, to humour Zeus,

our dear father, so he won't get angry once again,

disturb the feast for us. For if Zeus,

the Olympian lord of lightning, was of a mind

to hurl us from our seats, his strength's too great.

But if you talk to him with soothing words,

at once Olympian Zeus will treat us well."

Hephaestus spoke, then stood up, passed a double goblet

across to his dear mother, saying:

"Stay calm, mother, even though you are upset.

If not, then, as beloved as you are,

I may see you beaten up before my eyes,

with me incapable of helping out,

though the sight would make me most unhappy.

It's hard to take a stand opposing Zeus.

Once, when I was eager to assist you,

Zeus seized me by the feet and threw me out,

down from heaven's heights. The entire day

I fell and then, right at sunset, dropped

on Lemnos, almost dead. After that fall,

men of Sintes helped me to recover."

As he spoke, the white-armed goddess Hera smiled.

She reached for her son's goblet. He poured the drink,

going from right to left, for all the other gods,

drawing off sweet nectar from the mixing bowl.

Then their laughter broke out irrepressibly,

as the sacred gods saw Hephaestus bustling around,

concerned about the feast. All that day they dined,

until sunset. No one's heart went unsatisfied.

All feasted equally. They heard exquisite music,

from Apollo's lyre and the Muses' beautiful song

and counter-song. When the sun's bright light had set,

the gods all went to their own homes. Hephaestus,

the famous lame god, with his resourceful skill,

had made each god a place to live. Olympian Zeus,

god of lightning, went home to his own bed,

where he usually reclined whenever sweet sleep

came over him. He went inside and lay down there,

with Hera of the golden throne stretched out beside him.

The feast was on, and the Greek Immortals laughed even as they dined, and to them the Muses sang pleasing songs. The lame god did the trick. God’s in His Heaven and all’s right with the world—tells us Robert Browning. But is it so? One wonders!