In 1300 BC – a woman so beautiful existed, that she brought a civilization down with her beauty. It wasn’t only her cunning ways, or sleeping with the right men (although she was married to a a few kings); and it wasn’t even accusations of smuggling nuclear weapons of mass destruction or spying for the enemy (althought she’s done THAT) – that caused the furor. It was simply her promiscuity. Her name was Helen and she is still everywhere. The Greeks called her dreadful and delicious. Her cult, one of beauty has left us with an unattainable standard of beauty, so pure it caused war. Although mostly, it all had to do with how materialistic the Bronze Age society was. There was no money, only object themselves had any tradable value (money was stamped out for the first time in the second half of seventh century BC, by the Lydians). Until the beginnings of capitalism as we know now, beauty carried inherent value within it – a pretty woman was worth an island. This story takes place in the cusp – before the Trojan War, but after Paris has judged her most beautiful, and stole her away from her Greek husband and the Buccaneers swarmed their ship in the seas.
Perhaps the story was lost because no one was there to remember and to retell it to the children, or maybe Paris buried the stone on which the story was drawn in their backyard. So Helen and Paris are on a boat sailing to Troy. They have been on the boat for three days now, their plan to reach the private coast of a Greek island, somewhat derailed by a storm. Paris, proud of his newly found uxorial bliss yet terrified of the fallout with the deities and Helen’s first husband (who was known as a fierce warrior), got drunk on mead last night. With the high sun of noon, he was just beginning to reconcile his mind to the time of day to that of the direction of the ship in the Polyphloisbic Sea.
Paris had a lot to drink and wasn’t yet completely sober, but the troubling thoughts remained – the ex – husband yet to deal with, who was left without Helen, his most prized possession – the most beautiful woman. As he thought about it more, the sun started to bake the back of his neck and the back of his shirt quickly became soaking wet. Added to the discomfort was the occasional stray salt water, which seemed to bite at the skin. Of coarse, Helen looked as beautiful as ever – no weather could dampen her looks, her shine rivaled the sun, thought Paris.
He was happy that Helen was his, a possession among other things: next to imported Ivory beads from Greece, amber from the Baltic, pottery from Crete, and foodstuffs from Lebanon, and wine from Greece! They ate well too: there was domestic cattle, salted game and fish; pomegranates, almonds, pine nuts, ostrich eggs and other delicacies only the ancient knew of and enjoyed.
But the happiness of the lovers was short lived on the boat. The sun was rising, the ship was sailing to their new home but Helen couldn’t shake a nagging feeling that something was amiss. And so as those things go, the nagging feeling became an action. Helen was also worried that Paris married her to get closer to her father – Zeus, in order to align himself favorably with the imortals.
We don’t know exactly how it happened but during the previous’ night’s feast, when the moon was looming high above ship in quiet waters, Paris called Helen a fat bitch in front of his Troy buddies. The problem was that Helen refused to see the joke in it, which he clearly meant it as one, since she was the most beautiful, and he already gave her the apple, and why can’t she just accept that as that?
Helen glared back at Paris across the vessel, she clearly hasn’t forgotten the slight: “You know Paris, I am so sick of this…I certainly didn’t leave the luxury of Greece to be treated like this! And your guards keep hitting on me, although THAT’s really not their fault”.
Paris was speechless but not for long, and a long argument ensued. After all – he was the judge of the contest, he was superior in his thinking, warring and even writing prowlers. He fancied himself a bard and was even working on his greatest hits album for the next sacrificial season. Most beautiful or not, he wanted to show Helen that he won’t be bullied in this relationship. The truth was that that is exactly what Paris setting himself up for, he was as cowardly as they came, a politician without real bite. He chose Helen and now he was carrying it all through, stuck with her on the boat and with a lot of people pissed of at his luck.
Just then, as they were both thinking their separate thoughts, a guard called them to their daily meal(in those days guards acted as many things to their prince – butlers, drinking buddies, warring partners, and even consolatory referees. They sat down to dinner; Paris helped himself to his second glass of wine of the day – should you be really drinking that? Asked Helen superiorly, as one would if one was judged more beautiful than the immortal goddess of beauty… Then just as she was angry at first, Helen burst into tears and ran into her chambers crying over Paris’ words. There a hand maiden already awaited her with a towel and a milk bath. Helen plucked herself in and continued crying…. this was simply terrible and all Paris’ fault. The expectation Helen had of luxury and renewed devotion seems as fragile as her own mindset. The slightly bipolar princess vowed to set the prince straight.
The next time Paris and Helen came onto the deck, the sun was at its Aegean sunset – and the deep green of the water reflected and blinded with pinks, oranges and yellows – spectacular view. Clearly both Helen’s beauty and the seascape shared a weakness for the dramatic. Once again the spectacular view gave Helen a renewed belief that life could be perfect, but for a brief moment, she knew she still had work to do on Paris. She didn’t shave her head as an adolescent and grow it back out as a sign of transition into womanhood, only to lose it all on this stinking boat! Both Helen and Paris made jovial remarks about the fun festivities that awaited them upon the end of the journey, they vowed to sacrifice a thousand cows to Aphrodite – for a better life, but neither of them could quite fix the other in the way that would pass for perfect. They’ve only just met last Friday.
It was Helen who brought up the offensive F word first:“I can’t believe you called me FAT, when I have sacrificed everything for you!” Helen was clearly a bully, like a pit-bull with lipstick she attacked Paris. Helen smiled through her tears (which didn’t ruin her make-up) “I just can’t believe how STUPID men are, and how stupid you are in particular…. as a man” This was offensive for two reasons, because of syllogism of Paris being only a mortal, while Helen was at least partially divine and because she picked on his sore spot: Paris considered himself a god! This did it….It’s as if their fighting had a natural effect – the winds picked up the crashing waves drowned out most the words in their fighting. Only the really perceptive guard could hear how frustrated Paris soon grew. By midnight they moved their fight into their night chambers: but nothing seemed resolved or getting anywhere close to it: Paris poured himself another mead, while Helen was not giving up on her point: After all, she asked “ You judged me the most beautiful and this is ALL entirely your fault!” It was unclear if she meant the current situation of them being slightly lost at sea (despite Paris’s excellent navigational skills) , or the future foreshadowing of the Troy war, which would change the course of history forever ( and could probably be also traced back as the main cause of the ALL geographical conflict today).
But Paris just couldn’t take it. Despite his lyrical inclination, and ability to fall in love with MOST beautiful women, he wasn’t the best at expressing his true feelings. He kept emotions inside, until raging, slamming doors and ripping out curtains, he climbed onto the deck of the boat and into the stormy sea. Helen watched him from the safety of the cabin as Paris, chugging his wine and grunting dove into the sea.
The rationality of that decision aside, Helen was petrified. Not because she lost another husband, but because she was worried that if Paris hurt himself, then her expanding waistline will be the least of her worries – as his guards would probably kill her. Without thinking, Helen jumped into the water after her beloved one…Paris awoke on the Rocky beaches of troy – what now constitutes Greece. Helen was gone, dissipated into her element of water, back with her family of gods and goddesses. Suddenly, without anyone to fight with or call fat, Paris felt very lonely.
annakriger 