I finished Stephen Fry's Mythos last week. His rambunctious style of story-telling definitely grows on you.

I guess the thing that surprised me most was the geographical extent of the Greek world that frames the myths. It covers not just what we now know as Greece and Cyprus, but also Turkey, parts of Syria, Iraq and Lebanon, northern Africa, the Balkans, Albania, Croatia, and Macedonia.



It even stretches as far as the Caucasus, a region that will be the focus of a shadow journey to come.

I remember the monument in Batumi where Medea holds aloft the Golden Fleece.

The fleece came from the flying golden ram sent by Nephele, a nymph made out of clouds by Zeus in the shape of the goddess Hera (don't ask -- it's a long story). The animal was sent to rescue Nephele's children, Helle and Phrixus, whom their wicked stepmother was trying to kill. Helle unfortunately fell off the ram, into the bit of sea now known as the Hellespont. Phrixus and the ram made it to Colchis (an ancient region in the western part of modern Georgia).

The fleece of the ram, guarded by a dragon, became the object sought by Jason and the Argonauts. Depending on the version you read, the dragon was either killed by Jason or put to sleep by the witch Medea.

I don't think I grasped any of this when I saw the monument last year.

Also in Georgia, but we didn't get anywhere near it, is Mount Kazbek, which is reputed to be the place where Prometheus was condemned to be eternally chained to a rock as a punishment for gifting human beings with divine fire. It's a Georgian eagle or aetos kaukasios (though some accounts say it's a vulture) that eternally feeds on Prometheus' ever-regenerating liver (or heart). Fortunately, Heracles overcomes the bird during his 11th Labour.

Unknowingly for the most part, we travelled through many other scenes of Greek myth.

Corinth, which we passed on our way from Patras to Athens, was originally called Ephyra, and was established by the ghastly but wily Sisyphus. He even managed to trick death (twice), and was punished by having to push a boulder eternally uphill (he gets almost to the top only to have it roll back down again -- always).

The Aegean Sea, which we sailed en route from Piraeus to Chios, was where the god Poseidon built a huge palace of coral and pearl.


The kingdom of Lydia extended east from the city now called Izmir. Another ghastly guy, Tantalus, ruled here -- he whose punishment for serving up his own son on a platter for the gods was to have the fruit he desperately needed to satisfy his raging hunger and thirst always, tantalizingly, out of reach.


Colophon, about 15 miles northwest of Ephesus, was the home of Arachne, who foolishly challenged the goddess Athena to a weaving competition, in which she depicts the gods in less than flattering guises. Athena beats her with a shuttle, whereupon Arachne hangs herself in despair. Athena, who respects her talent, despite her audacity, turns the body into a spider. According to Fry: "It was not a punishment as some would have it, but a prize for winning a great competition, a reward for a great artist. The right to work and weave masterpieces in perpetuity."


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One of Fry's stories recounts the fate of Pyramus and Thisbe (star-crossed lovers turned in death into confluent rivers).

This, of course, is the bit of amateur theatricals that's embedded in Shakespeare's A Midsummer Night's Dream, which I saw in Stratford way back in the summer of 1981... I found it delightful. Airy, whimsical, but also wistful. I speak in my diary of coming away with a feeling of loss: "It truly was all a beautiful dream, that's floated away, and left us richer, yet aching and bereft."

MND was probably first performed in 1595/96 -- not that long after the London theatres were forced to close for two years, from 1592, because of the plague... Truly, there's nothing new under the sun.

Because of its contrasting Greek settings -- the city of Athens (representing rules, authority, and restrictions), and the surrounding woods (representing "a mysterious, surprising and riotous escape, ... a place where mischief lurks behind every corner") -- I decided to revisit the play, by way of a boisterous performance on Youtube featuring a company called Shakespeare by the Sea.

It was as entertaining as ever, although I guess the contemporary me worries a bit about the way the posh folks take the mickey out of the "rude mechanicals".

And, of course, Shakespeare may or may not have drawn directly on Greek sources...

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To round off with, there's borderless food...

We've treated ourselves a couple of times since we've been in Norwich to food deliveries from The Mediterranean.

Strictly speaking, this is Turkish food.

But both Greek and Turkish sources testify to the kinship of these cuisines, so I'm not going to worry too much.

Apparently, "the first archetype of kebab-related ruins dated back to 17th century BC in Greece... So, the kebab may be regarded as part of a common culture in the Mediterranean and Middle East region.”

We certainly enjoyed ours over successive Saturdays: a yogurtlu lamb shish one week, and an adana the next, plus delicious salads flavoured with things like sumac and pomegranate, and awesome meze.


So... Stephen Fry, William Shakespeare, English takeaways... My next "Englishman in Greece" is going to be Byron...