Hypatia and the Portent
PROLOGUE
Spanning the two decades of the 1950’s and 1960’s, NASA had been at the forefront of the “space race” with Russia for the dominance of space, after the latter had successfully launched the Sputnik into space on 4 October 1957. There was much at stake and the race was on to send a manned space mission to the moon. On 20 July 1969, Apollo 11 landed on the moon in the Sea of Tranquillity and Mission commander, Neil Armstrong, was the first person to step on the moon during that historical moment.
A hundred kilometers south of the area where Apollo 11 had landed in the Sea of Tranquillity, one could easily discern the crater and a system of rille named after the mathematician, astronomer, and philosopher, Hypatia of Alexandria, who died tragically during the early part of the fifth century. Best viewed a couple of days before the first quarter or a couple of days after the last quarter Moon the features are visible in a small telescope.
HYPATIA
The full moon had kept her awake for most of the night. As the sun rose, streaking the Mediterranean Sea with light, Livia sipped the cool spring water which Aleus, the factotum, has brought together with the town gossip that Hypatia had departed. That puzzled her – Hypatia would not have left Alexandria without first bidding her farewell.
She has known Hypatia these past four and a half years since Hypatia had taken her in as a refugee before settling in affordable rooms of her own, near the cramped dockside in this cosmopolitan city. When King Alaric had again sacked the eternal city, shortly before he had suddenly died a few months later, Livia had fled Rome. About seven years earlier, the imperial headquarters had been moved to Ravenna because of the marauding barbarians. Pagans saw the sacking of Rome as the work of Rome’s old gods and blamed the Christians. Pagan members of Rome’s senate were fearful of retribution from the Christians if they should dare to speak out against the atrocities being perpetrated.
Alexandria in the Eastern Territories of the Roman Empire was the obvious destination for, being still the center of learning for the great thinkers of their age, scientists, mathematicians, and poets from all civilizations, although the legendary Library was no more. It was said that the Library at Alexandria was accidentally destroyed by Julius Caesar during his Alexandrian campaign against Pompey. When the enemy had tried to cut off his fleet, he was forced to repel the danger by using fire, and this had spread from the dockyards and destroyed the Great Library. This had all supposedly happened over four centuries ago and like all urban legends, it persisted in the retelling of the details and grossly exaggerated claims went unchallenged.
The number of scrolls which had been lost in what appeared to be regular conflagrations in a city the size of Alexandria, was negligent as the most important and valuable documents which had been handed down through the ages were in the custody of the various churches. Those documents (mostly religious scripts) were the property of the churches and never left the premises – in fact, the most valuable documents were entrusted only to the heads of the churches. Fires were a common enough occurrence in most cities where building materials were highly flammable and it was of great concern to everyone, hence the city decree that all cooking areas must be situated outside a dwelling and that a bucket of water must be on hand at all times. But, people being what they are, seldom if ever adhered to this commonsense rule. The lesson to be learned from the burning of Rome over three centuries ago did not seem to have left a lasting impression. Many a neighbor had come to blows over careless fires which had caused damage to their properties.
Hypatia said that the enquiring mind couldn’t be destroyed and, therefore, the burning of books at the Library by the illiterate (as one rumor had it) was a futile exercise. Livia understood this as she had, over the years, read and memorized vast tracts of Ovid’s surviving work; no one could take that away from her. Poetry was to Livia as mathematics was to Hypatia: it was a balm for the mind to engage in these disciplines. Nothing relaxed Livia more than to pen poetry because, in the process of searching for the right words to express a thought, it opened her mind to the vast possibilities that life held. Hypatia was not as enthusiastic about humanity as a whole and they often ran in circles trying to convince one another of the importance of the subjects close their hearts. Hypatia, with her trained philosophers’ mind, easily trumped an argument, but graciously conceded that poetry served its purpose when a difficult concept had to be introduced to the audience – much like philosophers of old had written their theses in the form of epic poems. Hypatia’s strength laid in the fact that she knew her subjects well and as an exponent of Plato’s work, did not only advocate his teachings but also argued various points eloquently, making it even accessible to the non-philosophers of Alexandria. She was a popular orator. This was no mean feat as the intellectuals in Alexandria did not habitually mix with the populace at large.
Alexandria’s notorious reputation of having regular riots which the locals seem to relish in did not concern Livia as she, since meeting up with Hypatia, moved in the higher circles of the royal city quarters. It was rumored that the parabalanoi, a fraternity originally founded to care for the city’s poor and which duties later included the guarding of certain high-ranking clergy and church property, led some of the worst outbreaks of violence against the citizens of Alexandria, especially in the Lower City. Hypatia had dispelled Livia’s initial fears by quoting Plato whose teachings she embraced: ‘No evil can happen to a good man, either in life or after death.’
It never ceased to amaze Livia that two people with such diverse interests could have become such firm friends; being close in age, might have contributed to this, although Hypatia always shied away from the topic of her age. Livia being a woman of nearly fifty (a rarity in that day and age), she suspected that Hypatia was at least ten years older than her. Hypatia put her robust health down her strict diet regime; she did not eat meat like a barbarian and did not drink milk. She did include nuts and dates in her diet, which was customary of the Egyptian cuisine. Livia guessed that it might have been due to the influence on the household of her late mother, who she thought might have been a local Egyptian girl. No one seemed to know or talked about it – as though Hypatia had just fallen from the heavens to grace them with her presence. Hypatia was not a vain person. On the contrary, she dressed simply and spoke in a soft, engaging voice. She held that when one dropped one’s voice (unlike the inclination of most people to raise their voices in an argument), you would more likely be heard by the skeptics, as they needed to quiet their minds to be susceptible to new thoughts.
Maybe the prospect of death was the reason for Hypatia not addressing the issue of her age, although she has expressed on more than one occasion that the Soul could not be destroyed. Her mother had died during her birth. Livia had not met Hypatia’s father, but by all accounts, he did his best by her, raising her in an intellectual environment usually reserved for men and took her horse riding for exercise. He had told Hypatia that she had his Hellenic features and her mother’s keen mind. This was a compliment indeed at a time when beautiful young women were often conscripted as virgins to serve at the various temples of the gods. With the event of Christianity and the abolishment of the pagan gods by Constantine in the Roman Empire, this practice had thankfully faded into obscurity. Some did tend to view Hypatia as an oracle, but she discouraged this at every turn as she felt that it might put undue pressure on her to divine the future; something she did not practice. Life was precious to her and she believed that death was inevitable; the ultimate reward being the prospect to fuse with the One.
Livia shook her head to clear it of these depressing thoughts, but her unease could not be assuaged. She declined her breakfast of white bread and waited for her chambermaid to bring the olive oil for her grooming. She paced the balcony in her bare feet. She noticed that the Pharos of Alexandria had extinguished its furnace light because the mirrors were already reflecting brightly the early morning sun. A conversation a fortnight ago during the New Year celebrations at Hypatia’s house in the city came flooding back to Livia.
***
“Poetessa Livia, I summoned you to assist me in translating a poem which I have received belatedly only a few months ago from an erstwhile pupil and subsequent dear friend of mine, Synesius of Cyrene, with whom I have regularly corresponded over the years. He always addressed me as ‘The Philosopher’,” said Hypatia, smiling at this fond memory. “He was appointed the Bishop of Ptolemais five years ago. Before his death a year ago, Synesius used to often send me boring poetry which he would ask me to comment on. If I were, to be honest with him, I would have crushed the poor man’s ego.”
“I know exactly what you mean, Hypatia. Many a time I have to bend the truth when someone asked me to read their poetry and to give them an honest opinion. I don’t think that it is an honest opinion that they are after, but rather an acknowledgment of their efforts, however amateurish it might be.”
“But, at least, Synesius was an upstanding man in all spheres of life and no one could take that away from him. When he had taken ill, he had sent me a final poem which he had written. He had secreted it away among some official papers earmarked for the Governor of Alexandria, who in turn, had passed it on to me only recently. I don’t know why Orestes had held on to it for so long. It was like no other poem that he had sent in the past and in the case of Synesius’ death, it had turned out to be quite prophetic. I don’t mind admitting that this poem was far from boring and it rattled me. This stanza was set apart from the rest by the ornate script and decorated by a vignette depicting the Coat of Arms used by the Spartan kings from whom he was a descendant.” She recited the relevant verse for Livia’s benefit:
Successor king of Visigoths, new alliances drew –
betroths princess, beloved sister in political rows:
I now pass the baton to those men more hench.
Hypatia looked intently into her goblet, holding the jewel encrusted silver bowl somewhat awkwardly as though arthritic. She only ever drank water and being of Greek extraction, abhorred the Roman habit of imbibing wine cut with water – Hypatia thought that it dulled the senses whichever way you drank it. “I had word from out of Cyrenaica that Synesius had died shortly after Athaulf, the successor of King Alaric, had married princess Galla Placidia, sister to the Roman Emperor Honorius, in the midst of some or other political power struggle. Alaric had originally abducted the princess in a bid to force Honorius’ hand in battle. The timing of Synesius’ death, as he described in his poem, could not have been made clearer. I suspect that he had died of a broken heart after his three sons had died in quick succession a few years ago and the destruction of his beloved country. Having survived a shipwreck when young, and an earthquake later in life, the marauding hoards that destroyed his estate, were the final nail in his coffin …”
The aroma of bay laurel leaves simmering in olive oil, sweetened the air. ‘Maybe it is an infusion to ease the discomfort in her hands? The strict exercise regime her father, Theon, had imposed on her had, in the long run, proven to be detrimental to her health,’ Livia thought.
It was a humid afternoon due to late winter rains. Hypatia was comfortably dressed as usual in loose fitting androgynous attire with no concession to femininity. Livia has never seen Hypatia wear jewelry, not even in her short cut grey-streaked black hair. Her unlined face belied her advanced years. She favored laced up sandals, like the Roman garrison stationed in the town wore, stating that comfort came before vanity. Livia always felt overdressed when she visited with Hypatia and self-consciously touched the tortuous shell comb holding her blond hair in place off her high forehead.
The place has the ambiance of a museum with all the artifacts of a man of learning scattered around the house which Hypatia had inherited upon her father’s death. Hypatia had left everything as she had found it, including the large wooden table which contained many of the manuscripts that he had been working on, transcribing it for the Musaeum (Institution of the Muses); that part of the library which was still intact after the Great Fire of Alexandria. Livia wondered whether the scroll which enjoyed prominence of place on this large table was one of the many manuscripts which he had been commenting on. Hypatia used this previously private sanctuary to receive her scholars to continue discussions which arose during her lectures at the university, where she taught philosophy and astronomy as the head of the neo-Platonic school of Alexandria.
“Does this have something to do with that model I saw you contemplating a while back? You have tried to explain the mathematics involved, but it was beyond my limited education. Is this why you are feeling uneasy?” Livia looked intently at her friend in the dim interior, trying to gauge her mood. Hypatia did seem to have become morose while speaking of her friend’s death.
“I have come across some old scripts among my father’s work and I have attempted to build a model of the earth that moves around the sun in a circular orbit.”
“You and Theon Alexandricus had shared many interests, especially your mutual passion for astronomy and mathematics.”
As though Hypatia did not hear her friend’s interjection, she continued: “It might explain some of the anomalies surrounding the current model …”
“No, that cannot be true!” Livia said vehemently. “The Church teaches us that the sun revolves round the earth.”
Hypatia stifled a laugh. “Don’t worry, Livia, I will not include my findings in my public philosophical teachings. I am mindful of the fact that the church leaders are very sensitive regarding their position in society and anything that is beyond their ken might be seen as a challenge.”
“We’re living during dangerous times, Hypatia.”
Livia had warned Hypatia earlier to be more circumspect in her dealings with the clergy, especially Cyril, the Archbishop of Alexandria (a close friend of Theodosius II – now in his seventh year of reign). His feud with Orestes, prefect of Alexandria, had spilled over into widespread riots and wholesale murder of heterodox Christians, and the Jews were driven out of the city by thuggish monks; cloaked in black, they personified Mors. Hypatia had been unfazed by all this and went about her business as usual.
“I have considerable influence in Alexandria through my friendship with Orestes, but I am not immune from the vengeful actions of others.”
“Hypatia, you are not making any sense this morning. Why would anyone wish to harm you? You could not possibly have any enemies. We all adore you!”
Hypatia pulled the vellum scroll closer where it lay on the table between them. She untied the heavy red chord that bound it and rolled it open to reveal an elaborate astronomy chart. Taking center stage in this document was a poem of many stanzas. She could easily identify the verse that Hypatia had quoted by the family crest superseding the fist letter of the poem.
Livia leaned in closer to gain a better view and after a few minutes of concentration shook her head. “I see that Synesius had charted the heavenly bodies and had composed a poem in Dorian Greek, but I cannot comprehend the meaning of this even though I can read it.”
“What you are looking at is my rendezvous with the Keres? which Synesius had foretold,” Hypatia said matter of fact. “Please memorize the poem, because I will not leave this portent for my enemies to find – they might be tempted to act on it. Man tends to gravitate towards chaos and discord, especially if confronted with anomalies. We all need to discover Life as it unfolds – not a moment sooner or later. If, however, people gained knowledge before they have learned and understood all the necessary preceding lessons, it will lead to chaos. We only have one short moment in which to leave our mark on time and the chance will never come around again.”
“Pity you never married, Hypatia. Having children is the natural order of things and for them to continue your legacy, even if you would have married a widower with children; although I never had children by my husband before I divorced him. I hope he is happy in Rome. As a typical Roman man, he loved his mother more than me …” Changing the subject, Livia asked her: “Is Cyril still pursuing your hand in marriage?”
“After Theon’s death ten years ago, I briefly entertained the idea of marriage, but it is too late now; I’m too advanced in years. Besides, I cannot bear children. Cyril now knows the truth.”
“Has it put paid to his amorous intentions? It has been a difficult secret to bear. Now that your secret is in the public domain (you can be sure that Cyril will use it for his own dubious advancement) I no longer need to be fearful that I might slip up and expose you, my dear friend.” Livia hoped that Hypatia would speak up and relieve her of the burden of this confidence. But, now it seemed that she was about to place yet another burden of secrecy on her. Livia wondered how all this would end as she reached for the water pitcher to refill her glass as the servants have been dismissed when they were seated in this room.
“Yes. The truth will eventually out; it always seems to catch up with one when least expected. It had cost you your peace of mind and had robbed me of possible happiness in this lifetime.”
“You have said on a previous occasion that true happiness is beyond the physical world and our perception determines our truth; this truth would set us free.” Livia was still not convinced by this philosophical argument.
“We all possess the seed of happiness within us and in that respect, we can attain freedom from misery by focusing our energies on living simply and partaking of victuals as and when our bodies required it. Excess of any kind, even worldly possessions, cannot assure the ultimate happiness which is our birthright. It is neither ideal to be excessively happy, nor to be unduly sad. We should strive for a higher sense of consciousness. This simple truth will validate one’s life and set one free.”
“How would I know if a claim is valid?” Livia usually felt rather obtuse when Hypatia launched into one of her philosophical dissertations, but throughout their friendship, she was loathed to let on about her ignorance and let Hypatia speak her mind. Livia got the impression that she needed a less scholarly ear to act as a sounding board, something Hypatia did not get during the lectures she delivered at the University of Alexandria, often as not being challenged about her views and mathematical theories which she shared with her unruly students (the girls being the worst culprits).
“Let me explain: A door left ajar, is both an exit and an entry; our perception determines the truth and the reality thereof. This space is determined by the demarcation of the doorframe. Without the doorframe, we would not perceive it as anything other than merely another space. Furthermore, how we utilize that vacant space is predetermined by our knowledge of what this door signifies. That is why mathematics is paramount in the understanding of reality and truth – similar to the model you referred to earlier. If a theorem can be quantified by known facts, then it follows that it is valid. Only then can knowledge be obtained and expanded upon.”
“The Christians are teaching us that if we do not adhere to their secular rules, we would be punished in the afterlife. The church leaders only seem to be happy to have us pagans quivering in fear. On this point, I want to ask you about something which I have recently overheard. Maybe you would know more about it seeing as you are welcomed by the magistrates as an equal …”
“You know my feelings about instilling fear into the populace: No one should live under the constant threat of an unproven punishment in the afterlife. Ruling people by fear is as abhorrent as using physical violence against the body. The only thing one should fear is ignorance. But, we are digressing, Livia. As I said: Please try to memorize the poem.” Hypatia handed her the script and started to recite the poem by heart. Perspiration was beading on Hypatia’s forehead with the passion it was invoking.
‘Beware the Ides of March’ still rings true.
The State and the Church will come to blows.
From a chariot, The Philosopher they wrench.
Mere minion of the church that day would rue.
Jealousy rules supreme and the virgin’s blood flows;
the scapegoat stripped by oyster shells and altar drench
at the holy place where they uncover valid clue:
Son of Hermes and Aphrodite no longer crows.
On a pyre, the broken limbs burn with sweet stench.
Hypatia took a sip of water and it appeared as though she has decided to skip some of the verses. She continued in a subdued manner:
In a tranquil sea, men would walk – Apollo’s ship and crew.
Starlike heavenly bodies - Pharos adorn her waist in bows.
Nocturnal Lepidoptera would immortalize this wench.
***
This was as much as Livia could remember of the poem. She was shocked at the brutal scenarios it had depicted and had instinctively recoiled from the rest of the poem. There was no time to ask Hypatia questions because a visitor had arrived and she had excused herself. Livia had gone straight home and had instructed Aleus to bring her watered down wine infused with herbs. He had raised his eyebrows in an inquiring manner because the wine in the amphora was kept strictly for guests, but he didn’t quibble.
Thinking back on their last conversation, Livia wondered whether the rumor she had heard about the new supreme church leader, St Augustine of Hippo, had anything to do with Hypatia’s sudden departure. He had been very vocal in his condemnation of mathematicians and their supposed evil influence on the Christian community, forewarning his flock of ensuing Hell.
She has decided to call on Orestes – if anyone should know the details of Hypatia’s unexpected departure, it would be him. Livia chose a simple white dress, embroidered shawl, and little jewelry. She did not wear a philosopher’s cloak like Hypatia did when she went about the city instructing people in philosophy. Alexandria might not be the capital of the Eastern Territories, but even here women pride themselves in dressing tastefully. Putting in a hair comb, she noticed a number of gray hairs at her temples—she would have to suffer the pain later on of pulling them out.
Livia instructed Aleus to bring the chariot to the front of the house. She did not venture out into the streets on foot as the Lower City was no place for a lady, but it was all that she could afford. After she had divorced her no-good husband, she had to rely on selling off the few bits of good jewelry which she possessed – if she had to rely on her poetry for an income, she would have starved to death. Hypatia had arranged for her to teach a few classes in classical languages at the university, which brought in some welcome cash.
When Livia stepped out of the door, the stench of the slops from the numerous surrounding dwellings assailed her nostrils. She held her sent-infused warp to her nose to mask the smell. A beggar woman was fighting off some youths while she tried to eat a crust of bread which, by looks of it, was scrounged from the gutter. Livia averted her eyes. To make eye contact with the locals might lead to unwelcome confrontation; something she did not have the time or energy to deal with now. She was acutely aware that her rent was due, but with the whole city still being in a festive spirit the past two weeks since the New Year celebrations, she did not expect the rent collector to be knocking on her door soon.
She hoped that Hypatia was only gone for a short holiday as she had done on occasion in the past – Athens being a favorite destination to recoup after the hectic schedule of the academic year which ended the day before New Year’s Day.
They were soon weaving their way expertly through the backstreets of Alexandria, avoiding the throng in the market square. Orestes’ house faced onto the market square. At the side entrance, where she had sent Aleus to inquire if the prefect was at home, he was eventually turned away without much further ado.
Livia sat for a while contemplating her next line of action when a servant girl slipped out of the side door and after furtively looking around the square, approached the chariot. Livia drew the curtain a fraction wider open. The girl informed her that her master had hurriedly left town after the murder. She was burning to ask the girl what murder she was referring to, but it would have been unseemly to gossip with a servant. She would have to content herself with sending Aleus later on to the market to inquire about the details. Aleus handed the girl an as – an unnecessary extravagance Livia thought, but maybe she would not have to spend too much time convincing him to return later. She did notice the look of approval that he had cast over the girl’s young frame. ‘Oh, to be young again,’ she thought as she indicated to him to return home.
A few days after the Manuralia?, Livia learned that it was Cyril who was spreading the rumor that Hypatia had left for Athens, where she had studied when still a young woman. A more disturbing rumor was that of Hypatia having been brutally murdered. It said that she was kidnapped by monks, led by a lowly church cleric, Peter the Reader while driving her own chariot home, as was her habit. She had been dragged into the Caesarion church and stripped naked. With ostrakois?, they had flayed the flesh off her in a murderous frenzy and had hauled her mutilated body to Cinaron, burning her on a pyre while still alive.
Livia recalled Hypatia’s poem. The shock at finding her to be a hermaphrodite was the trigger for this particular brutal attack. She was saddened that Hypatia’s secret was revealed in such an atrocious manner. Hypatia had stood firm against the judgment of her detractors. Ignorance was exploited by those who were inferior in the face of reason.
EPILOGUE
Three months later, by chartered boat, Livia joined Hypatia’s students in the mass exodus out of Alexandria to Athens. With the two Titans, representing Church and State, openly clashing, no one’s life was sacred. She had gifted all her earthly possessions to Aleus, who had served her loyally for nearly five years since her arrival in Alexandria, as she had made initial preparations to return to her own roots in Naples. This detour to Athens served her also to pay tribute to Hypatia’s Hellenic roots.
It was the beginning of autumn when Livia finally moved into a small waterfront house in Naples and was still in deep mourning for her friend when she heard the disturbing news from out of Hispania.
Ataulf, the king of the Visigoths who had succeeded Alaric five years ago, had been brutally murdered by a slave who he had employed. Soon after King Altauf’s marriage to princess Galla Placidia, the couple had settled in Hispania, the main olive producing region in the Roman Empire. The assailant was a former slave of a military leader who Ataulf had ordered killed a few years back, and he had now wrecked revenge for his late master’s death by stabbing Ataulf to death as he bathed. Ordinarily, Livia would not concern herself with political issues, if this incident did not bring one of the stanzas of Synesius’ poem to mind:
Displaced bride followed her husband, blood true blue,
where olives harvested and a net the fisherman tows:
Servant loyal to enemy, at bathing, revenge clench.
‘Would this madness never end?’ Liva thought. Rumors were rife in the Empire that Cyril, though implicated in Hypatia’s murder, was never punished. It angered her that someone could abuse his position of power without retribution of any kind.
Trying to lighten her mood, Livia attempted to recall the poem that had proven to be a harbinger of death. She instinctively felt that the one verse had stood out from the rest and that it held a glimmer of hope for the future. What could ‘starlike heavenly bodies’ and the Pharos possibly have in common? Something in the heavens, but not the sun, which reflects light like the mirrors did in the daytime in the dome of the Pharos. Synesius wrote the poem in Dorian Greek, so it could have been a Greek word that might have held significance for Hypatia. If memory served Livia right, the Greek word for ‘starlike’ is ‘asteroeid?s’. That was it: Asteroids! Livia thought that the last line of the stanza could only mean a moth, a ‘nocturnal Lepidoptera’. That would be a great honor if a living creature would be named for Hypatia.
She knew that Apollo was associated with music, poetry, and prophecy, but could not hazard a guess at the connection to Hypatia. Livia wondered whether she would live long enough to solve the riddle of Apollo’s crew walking in a tranquil sea.
Whatever the answers might be, Livia felt consoled at the thought of meeting her dear friend again in eternity when their spirits would unite with the One.
__________________________________________________________________________
With reference to the poem:
Asteroid: [Gr., meaning ‘starlike’]. On 1 July 1884, a very large main-belt asteroid was discovered by Russian astronomer Viktor Knorre, working out of Berlin. It was named 238 Hypatia (alternative name: 1947 HA), with an orbital period of 4.96 years. It is classified as a C-type asteroid.
In 1892, Kirby classified a moth (order: Lipidoptera; family: Arctiidae), by the genus: Hypatia.
There are two lunar features named for Hypatia: An irregular crater (simply named ‘Hypatia’) and a system of rilles. The crater is medium-sized, measuring 41km x 28 km, and is located 4.3°S and 22.6°E of the meridian. ‘Rimae Hypatia’ is located north of the crater, just one degree south of the equator, and is 180km long. These features are 100km south of the area where Apollo 11 had landed in the Sea of Tranquillity – best seen a couple of days before the first quarter or a couple of days after the last quarter Moon, the features are visible in a small telescope.
Glossary of terminology:
?Keres (Greek mythology): Keres is also used to describe a branch of paganism that follows the goddess Nyx. When applied in this way, Keres is taken to mean “daughters of Nyx”. Mors/Letum was the Roman equivalent of the Keres (the latter originally meaning “death by violent means”).
?Manuralia fell on Ides of March and it involved a scapegoat, perhaps to signify the end of the old year.
?ostrakois: The Greek word which literally means “with or by oyster shell”, but the word was also used for brick tiles on the roofs of houses, and pottery shards.
?The author’s interpretation of the events, with reference to the section in the poem:
‘ Son of Hermes and Aphrodite …’
Hermaphroditos: Son of Hermes and Aphrodite, who became one with the nymph Salmacis. [‘hermaphrodite’ is derived from this]
Hermes: 1.(Greek mythology) Son of Zeus and Maia; represented ads messenger of the god, god of science, commerce, eloquence, etc., identified by the Romans with Mercury. 2. Hermes Trismegistus (‘thrice-greatest’), the name given by Neo-platonists to the Egyptian god Thoth, regarded as the author of all mysterious doctrines and especially of secrets of alchemy.
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