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Last of The Mycenaeans
Tuesday, 8 January 2013
Monday, 7 January 2013
Last of the Mycenaeans: the Book
Have you read this book? It's worth a read, you know. A short description follows. If you have read it, then please leave a comment. It will be treated on its merits (and none of us can ask for more than that). Don't forget to have a look at the LotM Companion.
If you have images, links or stuff that would be of interest to other readers, please, post it as a comment on this blog and we'll add it to the Companion (with attribution, of course).
Anyway, warning, sales pitch follows:
1150 B.C.
Angeioplastis was a potter; an ordinary man. Last of The
Mycenaeans follows Angei, his wife, Amorfia, and his lover, Iereia, as they
live through the decline and collapse of their ancient Greek civilisation.
The Mycenaeans occupied Greece and dominated their region
for a thousand years. They famously conquered Troy. They built splendid palaces
and constructed massive walls to protect their wealth.
Then, mysteriously, within a few short years, the Mycenaean citadels
fell, their palaces burned and their civilisation vanished - without leaving
evidence in the archaeological record of an invader or conquering army.
“Cold winds blew
across an empty land; the two hundred year long ‘Greek Dark Ages’ had begun.”
Last of The Mycenaeans places the characters in a context:
the set of social relationships and sexual practices current in their Bronze
Age society.
It follows the personal journey of Angeioplastis, the
potter, through lust and love, marriage and loss, from conservative to radical.
Crippled in mind and body from battle and slavery, the potter changes. By nature
he is a conservative man, inclined to overlook the extravagances and
shortcomings of the ruling class for the greater good. In time his observation
of injustice leads to a Fabian view, favouring gradual change until, finally stripped
of all he holds dear by the rulers, he declares:
“They have taken too
much, this time.”
He has become a vengeful revolutionary. His journey is not
complete, however, until he tastes the ashes of revenge in the cold light of a
new dawn. Even as smoke rises from a collapsed civilisation, human optimism
remains. He resolves to preserve the memories of his time as paintings on his
pottery, for, as he believes:
“Where there is
memory, there is hope.”
But was it hope
without justification? He was, after all, last of the Mycenaeans.
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