Review of the Swan Thieves and Discussion of Writing Site Wikio Experts

I've just written a review of Elizabeth Kostova's novel The Swan Thieves (a fine novel) on Wikio Experts, a writing site I joined recently.

The site works on similar principles to Demand Studios, in that, once approved, writers choose from a selection of titles to write and submit within a few days. Wikio Experts is a little different in that payment is a mix of revenue and outright payment, so that for some articles you will definitely get a set amount, say 5 Euros (the site pays in Euros), while for others, you can earn "up to" 15 Euros. It is early days so we'll see how it works out, but another site offering outright payment to non-US writers is very welcome. 

Joining Wikio Experts happens in two stages; you initially fill out a brief application form, then, if approved, you submit trial articles on the topic areas you want to write in and if the articles are accepted, you can then select articles to write. At a maximum of 400 words, the articles are not too onerous to write.

The selection of topics at Wikio is as random as at Demand Studios, but, at the moment, there seem to be much fewer titles available. With Demand, it is usually possible to find something doable, once you've scrolled through the weirdness and the impossibly (for me) technically specific, but, with Wikio, I wonder whether supply will meet demand. It seems like a good thing, on the whole.

Izanagi and Izunami

I've just published a new article on Hubpages Izunagi and Izunami A Japanese Creation Myth.
As I am most familiar with Greek mythology, I was particularly interested to notice the striking parallels between this  story and the Greek myth of Orpheus and Eurydice.

Like Orpheus, Izunagi goes in quest of his beloved dead wife, to the very land of the dead. Like Orpheus, Izunagi is told that he may get his beloved back as long as he does not look at her. When he does so, he loses all hope of their being reunited and she is condemned to remain in the land of the dead.

There are also correspondances with the story of Persephone, as, at first, Izunami says she will not be able to return because she has tasted food in Yomi, the House of the Dead. Later, Izunami is transformed into Yomotsu-o-kami, a goddess of the dead.

Another interesting correspondance that struck me, this time from the book of Genesis, is that Izunami, the primal mother is, like Eve held responsible for things going wrong because she spoke out of turn and took the initiative. Both stories contain elements seemingly intended to justify male dominance as the rightful norm, although of course throughout the centuries, some readers and listeners must have been provoked to read 'against the grain' and ponder the fairness of the tale being told. By appearing to offer answers, myth can prompt us to ask questions.

The Story of the Night by Colm Toibin Review

This is a novel set in Argentina in the 1980s about a young gay man called Richard who is half Argentinian and half English.
Following the death of his father, Richard is brought up by his proudly English mother, and as he comes to adulthood he continues living with her in their low rent apartment, working at an undistinguished job at a language school. He lives a quiet, somewhat lonely life, satisfying his sexual urges with furtive, anonymous visits to saunas.

Although the "disappearances" - the secret arrests, torture and probable murders of political dissidents goes on around him, he claims, in retrospect, to have very little awareness of this and is later shamed when angrily challenged that he must have known about the disappearance of a girl he studied with. He seems to move through his world in a kind of fog, to be curiously disengaged. Ironically, it is when he is caught up in the patriotic fervour of Argentina's war with Britain that he feels truly and proudly Argentinian. That he is both of Argentina and yet something of an outsider, speaking perfect English, with an English accent is what draws the attention of an American diplomatic couple Susan and Donald who find work for him, when he finally walks out of the hated language school. Although his life takes on a new dimension, he still remains within his mother's fusty apartment, which he neglects to alter in any way, though he feels embarassed on the rare occasions he brings anyone back. The apartment seems to symbolise some kind of refusal to grow up, to fully live in the world.

Through the first two thirds of the book, we watch Richard floating on the edges of power, of the changes that are taking place in his country, partly through his agency. He remains fairly apolitical, though he is sickened when Susan confesses that she and her husband were in Chile, during the time of Pinochet's brutal repression and did nothing. Through Richard's eyes we gains some interesting impressions of Argentina during that period, though always from a certain distance.

In the last third of the book, the tone changes, becomes more focused and gripping, as Richard finally becomes emotionally engaged and is astonished to experience love, happiness and vulnerability. Harsh realities intrude but he does finally repaint his apartment and we get the sense he is finally, fully alive fully himself.

A delicate, subtle, sad and romantic book, whose meandering progress mimics the drifting quality of the hero's life and somehow draws you deep into the world of this elusive individual.

Romulus and Remus

I've just published a new article on Romulus and Remus, basically giving an account of Livy's version of the story and briefly exploring the relevance it would have had to Livy, who had seen Rome suffer through years of civil war.

It's an interesting story that I might like to explore in more depth, at some point - why would a civilisation have, as their founding myth, the story of one brother killing another? It is remniscient of the story of Cain and Abel of course but also of the Romans' relish of the idea of their own nastiness. Their early history is full of stories of heroic men who put loyalty to the city above family ties, such as the Horatii, who killed their sister because she loved an enemy of Rome. By killing Remus, as he disrespected the walls of the city, in essence invading, Romulus was setting a precedent of protecting the city's boundariesat all costs.

I wonder if the killing of Remus could also be interpreted as a sacrifice to propitiate the gods at the founding of the city, or so that his spirit would be embedded as protector  - an idea that seems to lie deep in many ancient belief systems (or else I've been reading too much Peter Ackroyd on London or Alan Moore on Northampton.

I've started to read a book on the myth by T. P Wiseman Remus: A Roman Myth and I'll come back with a review.

The Bona Dea Scandal

Just written an article about the Bona Dea Scandal

An escapade by the young P.Clodius Pulcher, the aristocrat who, a couple of years later would become a radical tribune of the people. The individualism of the period of the Late Republic does fascinate me; men and women seem to have been able to do and say fairly much what they wanted, with little in the way of repercussions.
This is in contrast to the greater social control exercised by Augustus a generation later, with his marriage legislation which made people's personal lives became a matter for the criminal courts and his successor Tiberius, with his tribe of informers that made people afraid to criticise the powers-that-be. I wonder if anyone has written about Augustus' daughter Julia, politicising her promiscuity (always a loaded term!) as the action of an old fashioned, reprobate Republican, refusing to have her personal life legislated for. Something to explore, possibly. Of course the Late Republic was also a time of violence, instability and corruption and politicians used their daughters and sons as pawns in marriage alliances but still things seem more open and equal than under the dead hand of tyranny.

Hipparchia

Just had my article on the Cynic philosopher Hipparchia posted to History in an Hour.com. She's a fascinating character, who applies her understanding of Cynic philosophy to her own situation and decides that normal rules about women and what they could and couldn't do simply don't have to apply to her.

http://www.historyinanhour.com/blog/

Diogenes Laertius is a horrible writer (out of some kind of wierd, misplaced humour he feels the need to sometimes end his biographies of philosophers with nastly little poems about their deaths) but he offers an absorbing compendium of characters and anecdotes in his Lives of the Philosophers. His very lack of discrimination and his wholesale dumping of detail from his sources, some of which he clearly doesn't really comprehend himself makes him so invaluable as a repository.

http://www.perseus.tufts.edu/hopper/text?doc=Perseus%3atext%3a1999.01.0258


Really enjoying Gore Vidal's Julian at the moment - can't believe I never read it before.