Homer's masterpiece is the story of the last year of the
cataclysmic war. Michael Hone's TROY is an adventure whose odyssey
spans from the genesis of the catastrophe to the eventual return of
the survivors, a tale recounted by Zeus to his favorite son,
Hermes. ''Was there ever a time when men and gods were the same,
Father?'' ''No, but there was a time when the lives of men and gods
mingled so closely that I suppose you could say they were the
same." ''When was this, Father?'' "Ago, Son." "Was that the Time of
the Heroes, Father? Of Agamemnon and Achilles, Paris and the Fair
Helen? Priam and Calchas?'' "Oh, Calchas could hardly be counted
among the heroes." Zeus placed his hand on his son's shoulder. The
sapling would become an oak, he knew. The moment would come when
Hermes would have to be told the truths that weighed on Zeus'
heart, the knowledge of which would mark the end of his boyhood. He
would have to he told of acts of dishonor, in hopes that he would
grow above committing such acts himself. Perhaps the telling would
lighten Father's burden, and dissipate the bloodguilt of his
bungling the lives of Cassandra and Hecabe and little Troilus,
guilt he would never admit to another being, be he alive or dead,
Mortal or Immortal. ''But yes, that was the Time." ''And not Since,
Father?'' ''No. They and we came to the conclusion that it was best
for us to go our own separate ways, and respect what Destiny
decided to be our mutual lots.'' ''Would you speak of that time,
Father?'' asked Hermes, his open face shining and intelligent. Zeus
had a multitude of sons, sons without number, but a boy has only
one father from whom he learns the ways of men, which are the ways
of the survival of the species. This Zeus knew, and although his
head was heavy with memories best forgotten, he nonetheless nodded
his assent. "I'm going to know about Man Hurrah " cried out Hermes,
and his eyes filled with tears. Zeus took his son to his den,
struck a large fire and ordered the heavens to bring forth snow,
enough to prevent the gods from returning to his palace, enough to
whiten the Earth and through its nacreous purity bring beauty and
peace. Father and Son sat before the fireplace, Wisdom on his
throne, Youth at his feet; and it was thus that Father Zeus told
his beloved son Hermes the story of the Great War for the city of
Troy.
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