Whence my tears when I read the ancient Greek myths? What makes the very foundations of the western canon so close to my heart? Every page I turn strikes me as familiar. Even more, it seems to me that I was there when the story took shape, and I cannot but rejoice at the recollection of names and places nearly forgotten over so many centuries. Jason was my mate, of course, as was Odysseus, whose father was among the Argonauts. Not surprisingly, I take my mother’s Greek roots, tenuous as they are beyond her family name, as the proof positive. Yes, my ancestors were indeed there when the myths hatched, and they are still alive in my brain. On some reflection, though, the mystery is perhaps hardly a mystery at all. The Greek myths were shoved down my throat when I was a kid, and I resisted the force-feeding with all my might. Only an idiot would rejoice at all the readings that came my way in school. Year after year, the teachers were relentless. But memories of so many Greek myths, as well as the Roman ones, still survive in the nooks and crannies of my brain. Names and places are still there, albeit buried under many a layer of debris. Whence my tears, I guess. My feet forever firmly on the ground, I am rather happy to see another mystery dissolve in front of my bleary eyes.

Addendum (July 1, 2016)

On my last reading of this piece, which I came across entirely by chance, yet another explanation of my tears comes to mind. Namely, the Greek myths mark the very beginning of what is now known as the western civilization. Only three millennia later, it is in shambles already. The same holds for the so-called eastern civilization that is only a couple of millennia older. All told, both civilizations, which have become deeply intertwined during the last millennium, are as shallow as shallow can be. In retrospect, all was in vain over some two-hundred generations. With the ravages of climate change lurking ahead, it will take untold millennia for new civilizations to start taking root, let alone bearing palatable fruit, such as the ancient Greek myths. And homo sapiens is likely to go through many more cycles of this ilk before a civilization worthy of that name comes along at long last, assuming that it ever will. A brazen assumption, this! In the meanwhile, there will be mayhem over and over again. Piles of corpses will stretch all the way to the bloody horizon. Whence the tears, I reckon with quite some delay. For all my bluster, I am a homo sapiens still. And a touch sentimental specimen, too.