To the ancient Greeks, the gods were as much a part of history as the
men commanding armies, and the kings who declared war. Myth, legend,
and history were all interchangeable ideas -- interchangeable truths.
The gods lived and breathed and walked among their people, delivering
very strange and indecipherable brands of justice. Men had incredible
strength, and lived tragic, grief-stricken lives fighting against monsters, half-man and half-beast. There was romance, and
adventure, and no dearth of impossible obstacles to be overcome, and we
still tell those stories today. Some of us still want to believe they
happened.
Archaeologists and historians still hope to
find the proofs of Homer's epics. We comb through the ruins of Troy,
hoping to find some evidence to match a war that lasted a decade, led by
a coalition of kings and princes. We dig up the remains of palaces and
name them for the heroes said to have hailed from the lands nearby.
Because surely a story that has survived for so long, passed down from
generation to generation, memorized and recited and learned again, must
have some significance, some reality embedded in its heart.
Maybe
we don't know exactly when these heroes lived, or where, or how. Maybe
we'll never find any definitive proof outside of the myths we still
have, passed down from one generation to the next. Maybe the most
important part of it is isn't about the archaeological record at all.
Maybe the most important part is simply that they lived -- and we still
remember.
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