People, young and old, always loved telling the stories of Greek mythology. They told them long before they were able to grasp the script, and since then, they have never stopped telling them. In the cold countries of the north, they tell the stories, near the fireplace. But in the south and warm countries that do not know winter, they say them in the countryside, during the long warm nights. From an island to an island, to the Aegean, to the Ionian, passed the fable tellers, following the winding trails on the mountain slopes of Crete and the Peloponnese. They traverse as far as Asia and the Black Sea coasts. Eagerly welcomed in the villages. There is no feast at the fairs without their voice being heard. There is a place for them even in the races, where young people compete in power, stumble, throw the javelin, stretch the bow, or walk by riding chariots. When everyone is sweating from the summer heat and the cloud rises from the hooves of the horses and the runners and the larynx is all dried, then the rasps rise. And they start to say some old legend, accompanying their words with the lyre chords.
Some ancient writers claim that behind mythical Theogony, there are historical truths that, over the centuries, had become legends that folk made myths. According to this theory, a Scythian king lived in the ancient times, the Akmon, who overcame Phoenicia and who, when he died, his people deposited him and called him the Most High. The son of Akmon was Uranus, who, after the death of his father, took the kingdom and continued the conquest campaigns: he overcame all of Greece and the Mediterranean Sea and set up his throne in Crete. From there, always continuing his campaigns, he went all over Western Europe to Iberia, today Spain, and conquered it. But he was so cruel and so despicable that his own sons were distracted. Their mother, Titaia, who most liked her son Cronus, because he was the most daring of all, helped him and thus he took the kingdom by denying his father. The Ocean at that time ruled Libya and did not take part in the apostasy. Read more
Once upon a time, before the Universe was born, a giant egg was in the vast space. And one day, the egg cracked and opened. A winged spirit came out, lifting up the top of the shell and pushing the other half under his feet. The Uranus shell, the Earth below. And the first spirit that came to the world before all else was Love. With his own grace, Uranus loves the Earth, gives her light and warmth, throws her in autumn and spring, the warm rains that prepare the crops and the flowers. And the Earth gives it its love, making all the seeds germinate and the juice climbing on the branches. To love it, it changes tirelessly ornaments, and the leaves are tenderly green at first with subtle nuances, reaching autumn in the golden brightness. The Greeks never imagined that this beauty of the world came to luck. And since people feel so well, Nature should have a similar soul to the human. Read more
People and Gods
For the Greeks, people are not totally different from the gods, who they have as their ancestors. Everyone is from the same generation and from the blood of Heaven. Gods and people are the children of Heaven. But the mortals are somewhat deafened relatives. They have less power and confidence than their ancestors. They leave faster and they are lost while the gods are staying. However, somehow, some succeed in re-discovering the heavenly spark within them and conquer immortality. These are the heroes. Their achievements and their value take roots in memory, and when their mortal life ends, they find immortality among the gods.There were still other legends to explain the birth of the people. Most often, with changes in name and place, the history resembles that of Foronas of Argos. Read more
Creation of Mythology
So they have been passed down the years. Either peacefully or with violence the kings came and went in city states who are dead today. Tiryns, Mycenae, ancient Argos, Iolkos, Sparta and so many others. In those times, everything was a useful material for fiction writers: the wars and the misfortunes in the families of the strong ones, the states that were destroyed or fled, all gave them the opportunity to create their stories. Nothing, in any place, was inexplicable from a legend, both the shape of a rock and the tradition in a sacrifice. Hearing them there was no mystery left anymore, even in the sky.