PROLOGUE

Life is strange. One moment the handsome shepherd Paris is minding his own sheep, carving his lover Oenone's name on the bark of trees, and the next moment he is told that he alone must judge who is the fairest of the divine goddesses. Say what?

Life is strange, and that's no myth.

All three finalists tried to bribe the hapless judge (see Part I). Hera offered to make Paris the richest man on earth and king of Asia. Grey-eyed Athena told Paris that she could transform him into the wisest and most handsome mortal ever, not to mention make him victorious in all his battles.

But Paris chose Aphrodite, radiant goddess of love, for she whispered in his ear that the most beautiful mortal would be his, and her name was Helen. Without second thought he awarded my cousin Aphro the golden apple of Eris, setting the stage for the Trojan War.

You know the drill by now - Grab a cup of  your favorite nectar, curl up in a real comfy chair and let's go find out how the reckless love of two vain mortals caused the utter destruction of one real cool city...

PARIS GOES TO TROY

By choosing my cousin Aphrodite over Hera and Athena, Paris incurred the simmering hatred of the two losers. At the time, Paris was still only a poor shepherd, but the goddesses knew of his royal lineage and destiny, and hand-in-hand they went off to plot the destruction of Troy.

Poor sportsmanship, if you ask me.

It wasn't long after the judgment that King Priam of Troy sent his servants to bring back a bull from the herd of Agelaus. The bull was to be one of the prizes at the annual funeral games celebrated in honor of Priam's "dead" son, Paris.

Ok, ok, so Paris wasn't dead; But Priam didn't know that! You'll recall that Agelaus was King Priam's chief herdsman, a softie who couldn't quite bring himself to carry out Priam's order and kill baby Paris, instead adopting and raising him as his own son. (see Part I or scratch your head in wonder)

Needless to say Priam's servants chose the champion bull, Paris' favorite. As they were leaving Paris ran after them, shouting that, if they were to take his prize pet, he wanted a shot at winning him at the games. Paris was bound and determined to go to Troy and none of Agelaus' desperate entreaties could convince him to change his mind. Seeing that Paris could not be swayed, the concerned Agelaus decided to accompany him to Troy.

The boxing matches took place directly in front of the throne of King Priam, commencing at the end of the chariot race. Paris competed in the fights, and astonished the spectators by managing to win the gold crown against much bigger and better-trained opponents. What he lacked in skill he made up in sheer courage and determination. The King was impressed.

Basking in the glow of the unexpected win, Paris next entered the foot-race, much to the amusement of the blue-bloods. Now, you must understand that King Priam's sons ruled the foot-race...one or another of them always won, so it was understandable when Paris' declaration of participation was met with guffaws.

"Yo, Hector - the fool shepherd wants to run in the foot-race! He couldn't beat the sons of Priam if Hermes himself lent him his winged shoes! Har-har!"

Well, the joke was on them. Paris came in first with ease, which so exasperated Priam's sons that they challenged him to another race, reciting to their father a litany of lame and whiny excuses to justify how a mere shepherd was able to trounce their royal behinds.

"Our shoelaces broke right at the start of the race, dad!"

"But sons, everyone runs barefoot..."

The humbled princes demanded a rematch. No problem. Paris also won the second race, by an even longer margin. That's three gold crowns, for those of  you keeping score at home...Talk about a hat-trick!

Much akin to modern athletes, the spoiled brats did the expected - Humiliated by this public defeat, they assigned guards at every exit, with instructions to prevent Paris and Agelaus from departing the stadium. Then Deiphobus and Hector, two of Priam's oldest sons, ambushed Paris and attacked him with their swords.

Now, Paris was brave, but he wasn't stupid..."He who fights and runs away lives to fight another day", and all that...Realizing that he was outnumbered and out-armed, Paris leapt for the sanctuary of Zeus' altar. That's when his stepfather Agelaus rushed towards Priam and shouted out that the youth "about to be slaughtered at the altar of Zeus was the King's own long-lost son!"

Oh my. Queen Hecabe was summoned and, once she was shown by Agelaus a royal rattle found in Paris' hands, she confirmed his identity. Cassandra chimed in that this indeed was her brother, who would be the cause of Troy's destruction, but as usual, nobody paid her any heed. Poor Cassie.

You can imagine the fireworks when the Triple-crown winner's identity was established. Can you say pandemonium? The joint went nuts! Paris was carried triumphantly to the palace, and the mother of all parties ensued. At the huge celebratory banquet, rich sacrifices to the gods were offered in thanks for the safe return of the prince.

But wait, all is not well. The priests of Apollo appeared in the midst of the revelry, freaking out because Paris was still alive. Party-poopers!

Remember, these seers were the same ones who had warned Priam that his infant son must be killed or else mighty Troy would burn. They had been under the false impression that the baby had been destroyed. The oracles now demanded that Paris be immediately executed.

Bummer. Hate when that happens. But Priam would have none of that, telling his priests to be gone. "Better that Troy should fall, than that my wonderful son should die!" he answered, according to uncle Homer.

Famous last words, or what...

PARIS LEAVES FOR SPARTA

The Trojan matchmakers all wanted a piece of Paris, for he was the only one of Priam's sons yet to marry, and damn was he ever handsome! But Paris would shoo them away, saying that he placed his trust in Aphrodite alone. He began plotting how to get to Sparta so that he could meet his destiny, the splendid and unrivaled Helen.

Well, well, well....I'm here to tell you that it's a tangled web spun by the Fates, those old crones...Guess who shows up unexpectedly at Troy? None other than Menelaus, King of Sparta and husband of Paris' obscure object of desire.

It seems that a terrible plague was ravaging Sparta and the Oracle of Delphi had uttered that heroic sacrifice must be offered at the tombs of a couple of Prometheus' sons, Lycus and Chimaerus. The tombs were near Troy, and Menelaus had stopped for directions. How unlike a man...

Sly Paris wasted no time in befriending Menelaus, going so far as to ask that he be invited to Sparta, where he could be purified by King Menelaus for the accidental killing of young Antheus with a toy sword.

(Yes, a toy sword...Don't ask...Someone should have told those ancient Greeks to make toy swords out of wood instead...Oh my...)

Menelaus graciously agreed to Paris' request. Bad move. Bad, bad move. Following the advice of Aphro, at once Paris commissioned a fleet to be built for him, with its flag-ship sporting a figurehead of an Aphrodite holding a miniature Eros. Cute.

Aeneas, son of Anchises and a cousin of Paris, accompanied him. As the ships were about to sail away, wild-haired Cassandra and her brother Helenus foretold the catastrophe that the voyage would cause, but do you think anyone would believe them? No. Even King Priam ignored his prophetic children.

Paris' lover, Oenone, came to bid him a fond adieu, and tears streamed down his face when he kissed her goodbye. "Come back to me if ever you are wounded," she told him, "because I alone can heal you."

Cool. Nice to have an ace in the hole. Assisted by a favoring breeze sent by my cousin Aphrodite, the fleet soon reached Sparta, where they were hospitably received by Menelaus and were feted and feasted for nine days. Let's just say the banquet was anything but, well, Spartan...

Enter Helen. Amidst all the clamor, her appearance stilled the packed room. Those who beheld her for the first time instantly fell in love with her, and those who had seen her before, fell in love anew. The woman was stunning. The woman was truly stunning.

Paris presented her with glittering gifts, which he had brought for her from Troy. She blushed as their eyes met.

What a handsome stranger! she thought... sure wish my man Menelaus would lose the soldier garb and dress like this prince...wouldn't hurt if he took an occasional bath, too! Damn, but this Paris stud sure smells good!

Nice work, Aphrodite.

Paris did not try to disguise his adoration, much to the initial discomfort of Helen, who was certain that Menelaus would suspect that she encouraged his passion. For days she tried to ignore Paris' soulful glances, loud sighs and shameless signals. To no avail. She even found the words 'I Love You, Helen!' traced in wine on the table top.

But Menelaus was a jovial and obtuse sort, who suspected nothing. Emphasis on the 'obtuse', I suppose...Seriously, if you're married to the most beautiful woman alive, wouldn't you be a little less trusting of other men's motives vis-à-vis your wife? Especially handsome strange princes from Troy who brought his wife glittering gifts of gold?

Not Menelaus, the oaf...someone should have warned him to beware Trojans bearing gifts...

Matter of fact, when a bit of business came up on the tenth day, cheerfully he sailed off to Crete, leaving Helen to entertain their Trojan guests.

And entertain them she did...Cousin Aphro had seen to that. The very night of Menelaus' departure Helen boarded the flag-ship and eloped with her Trojan prince, leaving Menelaus a short "Dear Yanni" type letter:

"Dearest Mene,

I asked you to take me to Paris in the spring, and instead you sprung Paris on me. Sorry, hon, but the man's a stud! As much as I tried, I couldn't help falling in love with him. He's a god!

I'll be gone when you return from Crete. Don't take it personally, Mene dear, but I've discovered that money can't buy happiness...a girl needs some passion once in a while, and you just don't do it for me, big guy. Sorry.

No longer yours,
Helen of Troy (nee Sparta)

PS: can you kindly forward to Troy that red lace lingerie, you know, the one that reveals everything...I'm in a bit of a hurry to leave, and I can't seem to find it...I just KNOW Paris will love it...thanks!

Ouch! Hate when that happens. Oh my...

Menelaus was going to Troy, alright, but he wasn't going armed with red lace lingerie only! Along with the underwear, he was bringing a thousand ships, manned by a myriad of foul-tempered Greeks!

And they weren't coming for a tea party. No sir. This was war...

THE ESCAPE

You see, Helen wasn't content simply eloping with her Prince Charming. Even though she abandoned her nine-year old daughter Hermione, she brought along her son Pleisthenes. Oh yeah...she made sure to clean out most of the palace treasury, including ripping off all the gold from Apollo's temple. Helen also took with her five serving women, to attend to her daily needs. Now, if only Mene would forward that red lingerie...

Bummer. Talk about adding insult to injury. As grandpa Hesiod was fond of saying, "Helen got the elevator, Menelaus got the shaft..."

Mind you, there were countless theories submitted regarding the scandal. Some claim that Helen wanted nothing to do with Paris, rejecting his amorous advances, so he had to forcibly kidnap her while she was out hunting. Yet others insist that Paris carried out a surprise raid on Sparta and took Helen, or even that with the help of Aphrodite he disguised himself as Menelaus and thus deceived her into sailing off with him.

Another funky account of the story was that Zeus ordered Hermes to steal Helen and to entrust her to King Proteus of Egypt. Meanwhile, the Trojans were really sent a phantom Helen, fashioned from clouds by Hera, with the sole purpose of provoking the war.

Wrong! The truth of the matter is, Helen was just as much in love with Paris as he with her. She required absolutely no coercion to abandon husband, child and home without second thought, if only she could be with her handsome prince. End of story. My "godfather" Zeus told me so, one late night down at Thanasi's Olympus Greek Restaurant.

Zeus also told me that they wasted no time in consummating their affair. At the first port of call, which was the island of Cranae, Helen gave herself to Paris, and there was no turning back.

Before reaching Troy the fleet sailed to Sidon and Paris was hospitably met and entertained by the local king. Paris repaid the king by robbing and murdering him in his own banquet hall. What a jerk! It was outrages like that which gave Trojans a bad name! I guess ripping off all of Menelaus' fortune wasn't enough...

While they were splitting up the rich booty down by the shore, Paris and his gang of pirates were attacked by a group of Sidonians, who quite understandably were perturbed that their king had been murdered before the dessert had been served. It was baklava, wouldn't you know it...

The Trojans inflicted severe damage upon the Sidonians, but much blood was spilled and Paris lost two ships before they made their getaway. Afraid that Menelaus was pursuing them, Paris and Helen then spent several months in Phoenicia, Cyprus and Egypt, before finally reaching Troy.

Now, that's what I call a honeymoon...

HELEN OF TROY

When they finally reached Troy, Helen was welcomed as if she were a goddess. Mesmerized by her divine beauty, the Trojans opened up their hearts and city to her, and celebrated her wedding to Paris, even though legally her divorce papers from Menelaus had not been finalized, so to speak. Rumor had it that the Greeks were on their way to Troy to deliver the paperwork, but in the meantime it was party-time in ol' Troy town!

Enchanted by Helen, all of Troy had fallen in love with her. Even King Priam swore an oath never to let her go. Alas, the price for this oath would be the loss of the King's children, his city and his people. Cassandra alone spoke out about this, but once again, her words fell on deaf ears. Poor Cassie. She got no respect.

Thus Helen of Sparta became Helen of Troy. But as the Trojans danced the Hokey Pokey at the raucous wedding, the Greeks had gathered at Aulis, determined to get back their rightful property, and teach the upstart Trojans a lesson or two.

Helen of Troy. The face that launched a thousand ships. She bore Paris three sons, all of them tragically killed while still infants when a roof collapsed. But a child of Paris did live - An elder son by Oenone, named Corythus. One of the few Trojans unhappy with Helen's arrival, Oenone in jealousy had sent her son to the Greek camp.

His mission? To guide the avenging Greeks to Troy.

The Trojan War had begun!

MYTH OF THE MONTH

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