The journey from packing the contents of my life in a moving van to needing only two suitcases for a move abroad is long and winding. It’s telling that those two suitcases are the equivalent of what I first brought with me as I left my childhood home.
The root of transcendence is in trees, which predates the wooden structures that define the places in which we worship today. Without transcendence we are aimless creatures, so what happens when the trees and those places disappear?
An unfortunate fact is that mythology is no longer shared ‘round dancing fires. Instead, its tales are told within sterile classrooms. They languish in our past fragments as a class we took without the fireside perspective that suggests we might actually be living them.
Thankfully, Madeline Miller knows how to stoke a flame. Song of Achilles, a retelling of the life of Achilles, gestated for ten years before earning for Miller the Orange Prize and a loyal following. She admits to stealing from Plato as others have before her, but there is a difference. She lovingly dredges the depths of humanity rather wallow in it.