Inspired by Ancient Mythology

Along with the eerie literature and movies that were big influences for me as a child and early story-teller (Edgar Allan Poe, The Twilight Zone, etc.), I also grew up on what I loosely call ‘sword-and-sandal’ movies.

Officially, the term ‘sword-and-sandal’ refers to a popular genre of Italian knock-off movies emulating the big-budget epics of the 1940s to 60s, like Samson and Delilah (1949), The Robe (1953), The Ten Commandments (1956), Ben-Hur (1959), Spartacus (1960), etc. I use the term more literally: anything full of the sands of ancient times, sandals and togas and leather accoutrements, and, of course, lots of sword-fighting (not to mention chariots, triremes sailing the unknown seas, gods and goddesses toying with humans and the like). They were all wonderful adventures, transporting my parents and me on cold winter days to distant climes burning under the sun.

I remember a lot of those movies vividly and enjoy them to this day. Some of them may be your favourites as well: Jason and the Argonauts (1963), one of the pinnacles of Ray Harryhausen’s brilliant stop-motion special effects and still a great romp through ancient Greek legend; Ulysses (1954), with one of the greatest climaxes ever as Ulysses (the Roman version of Odysseus) finally returns home and proves who he is, vanquishing all of his wife Penelope’s miserable suitors; Land of the Pharaohs (1955), which literally had a “cast of thousands” – in one scene alone there were over 9,000 extras.

Those all stoked my enduring fascination with ancient legends, which have always been such rich fodder for writers and filmmakers. The super-popular and cult television series Xena: Warrior Princess, running from 1995 to 2001, made great use of ancient Greek legends, as well as those of more far-flung cultures, and made a personal appearance in my novels both for the Xena Club, one of the extra-curricular student clubs at Tempus College modelled after the titular character’s ethos of courage and doing what was right, and as the theme for the annual student-organized campus Halloween party.

A roster of characters from Greek and Egyptian legend make regular or guest appearances in my novels, from Thoth, the somewhat austere ancient Egyptian god of knowledge and writing, to the more earthy Silenus, the companion and tutor to the wine god Dionysus. Silenus wasn’t the most elegant or regal of ancient Greek figures. A notorious wine-drinker, according to the stories he was the oldest, wisest and most drunken of the followers of Dionysus. He was usually drunk, and had to be supported by satyrs or carried by a donkey. Silenus was described as, and was said in Orphic hymns to be the young god’s tutor, but while intoxicated, he was said to possess the power of prophecy.

The Greek ferryman of souls, Charon, began as a minor character when I first wrote him into Romy’s story, but I had so much fun with him that he quickly became a full secondary character, showing up on a lot of Romy’s journeys. That’s one of the gifts given to fantasy writers, that we get to play with both history and mythology to suit our wild imaginations.

Charon was a psychopomp, a being, spirit or deity who guides souls from the world of the living to the afterlife. On Greek vases, he was depicted as a rough, unkempt seaman, dressed in reddish-brown robes. He held his ferryman’s pole in his right hand and used his left hand to receive the deceased. The Roman poet Virgil went even further:

There Charon stands, who rules the dreary coast;
A sordid god: down from his hairy chin
A length of beard descends, uncombed, unclean;
His eyes, like hollow furnaces on fire;
A girdle, foul with grease, binds his obscene attire.

My mind imagined him as a rather weary and cranky fellow, still unkempt and ‘unclean’ (read ‘aromatic’), but able to improve his appearance when he chose to. He became somewhat enamoured of my heroine Romy, and their verbal exchanges became so entertaining that he was a natural for a greater role.

Another character from Egyptian mythology (in my novels, many of the old legends are true), the goddess Hathor, was well known for her relationship to fertility and sexuality, but one of her lesser roles was also as a psychopomp. This becomes critical in my novels to helping Romy retain at least some of her humanity as she’s forced to push herself deeper and deeper into her powers.

In the past few years, the Percy Jackson and the Olympians book series by author Rick Riordan has really taken off. I’m thoroughly enjoying Disney’s streaming series based on each of those five novels. Now, I haven’t read the novels myself, and can’t speak to the accuracy of their transition to the screen. I found a lot of criticism of the series on online forums, but personally I’m having a blast watching the episodes. The prior two movies were decent, but in the series there’s so much more opportunity to delve into the mythology behind it all, not to mention the visuals and wonderful artwork that bookends each episode. If you’ve been watching, are you a fan?

Author Riordan is a consultant on the show. He wasn’t happy with the movies but does like what they’re doing with the series, so that seems important. What I particularly love is the idea behind the books.

Riordan’s son has ADHD and dyslexia. He was studying the Greek myths while in second grade, and since his father had taught the subject himself at the middle-school level, he asked his dad to tell him some bedtime stories about the heroes and gods. Riordan said in an interview,

“When I ran out of myths, he was disappointed and asked me if I could make up something new with the same characters.

Off the top of my head, I made up Percy Jackson and his quest to recover Zeus’ lightning bolt in modern-day America. It took about three nights to tell the whole story, and when I was done, my son told me I should write it out as a book.”

Percy also has ADHD and dyslexia, but these exist because of his heritage as the forbidden son of a human woman and the god Poseidon. Percy struggles through elementary school for years, but at the age of 12 he finally learns the truth, and his differences begin to make sense.

There’s been criticism that the books make children feel excluded if they don’t fit the demigod mold, but from what I understand, many children with disabilities feel validated, and the stories sometimes even lead to self-diagnosis and acceptance. My feeling is that Riordan took his son’s disabilities and turned them into something positive and heroic, and don’t we all love hero/heroine stories?

The series spent over 780 weeks on The New York Times bestseller list, and by 2022, over 180 million copies of the books had been sold globally, translated into 37 languages and sold in over 35 countries, so clearly there’s something there that children enjoy and respond to. The first novel of the series, The Lightning Thief, is also quite popular on grade school curricula, and Riordan has put a lot of material about the mythology behind his stories on his website.

Ancient cultures developed believing that their stories about the world around them and the gods, goddesses and monsters that plagued them were all real. Though those beliefs have largely not held into the 21^st century, they are rich and intriguing. They continue to enthrall us today, and who’s to say that all of the writers who bring them to new life haven’t hit on some truth after all.