Sappho's Leap by Erica Jong

Author:Erica Jong [Jong, Erica]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Fairy Tales; Folk Tales; Legends & Mythology, Historical
ISBN: 9781480438880
Google: tWvfAAAAQBAJ
Barnesnoble:
Goodreads: 18527887
Publisher: Open Road Media
Published: 2003-01-01T05:00:00+00:00

14

The Coming of Pegasus

Her pure delight in holding the branch of myrtle

And the flower of the rosetree,

Moved me as she sang,

Tossing her long hair

Over her bare shoulders

And beautiful back….

—ARCHILOCHUS

IT WAS EARLY EVENING. The amazons were assembled in the same ominous apple grove where Praxinoa had her breast cut. Invisible cicadas sang and birds chirped on the low-hanging boughs. From time to time a heavy apple fell from a weighted bough. The queen had called this convocation so I could read my epic to the assembled throng. Even the ravished maidens were there, with bound ankles and wrists. The sailors who had been caught ravishing them were also prisoners and had been dragged out of the prison caves wearing their wooden and bronze shackles.

Praxinoa was there, sitting among the priestesses who had attended me in my writing cave. She held hands with our guide Penthesilea. On her face was the most beatific expression I had ever seen her wear. She was happy. Why, then, was I so uneasy?

The whole floor of the grove was littered with rotting apples, which gave a deep but not unpleasant aroma. To this was added the perfume of applewood fires and incense. The air was heavy and so was my heart. Yes, I was happy that Praxinoa seemed so happy, but I still had my misgivings about her conversion to the amazon cause and I wondered how I would ever weather the loss of still another loved one. As the sun set below the horizon, as oil lamps were lit and tended, I wished Alcaeus were here to guide me and I wished my darling Cleis were in my arms. The amazons did not believe in clinging motherhood, but what I wouldn’t have given for a bit of clinging now!

I began to recite the history of the amazons from earliest times. The words poured out as if I believed them—and of course, in many ways, I did. I believed in the power of women to make their own lives. I believed in women’s strength and ingenuity. So I recited with deep conviction. But as I read from the papyrus the priestesses had prepared, I realized that not all the lines were mine. Where I had attempted humor, it had been deleted. Where I had attempted wordplay, it had been changed to literal statement. Where I had joked, there was only seriousness. Everything was so heavy-handed! Nevertheless, the queen appeared delighted. She laughed and sighed and clapped her hands. She repeated several lines after me. The convocation and reading appeared to be a great success.

When I came to relate the visitation of Pegasus to the land of the amazons, there was a noise overhead. The sky was so cloudy that at first it was not possible to see what was happening. The sounds might have been thunder or the rumbling of a far-off volcano. I went on with my presentation without daring to look up. I described the immense iridescent wings of Pegasus, his golden hooves and his wild fire-colored eyes, his mane and tail of stars.

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