Living in the midst of agriculture gives me a new ear for ancient Greek stories. Many of them deal with the needs of pastoral people. Take the labors of Heracles, for example, many of which provide some aspect of service in the interest of farmers and herdsman [I feel like a nerd saying the Gr. name "Heracles" even though I know the Roman versions of the myths were ostentatious bastardizations. So be it.] The labors of the hero include stable cleaning (a.k.a. shitkicking), cattle rustling, and predator control, as well as more predictable feats like dragon slaying. When I was first reviewing these tales I wanted to compose a 13th labor where Heracles has to corral 1500 chickens who have jumped their coop, but to my delight the story is already there, in his quest to disperse the Stymphalian birds. Schwab describes these monstrous avains as capable of "piercing even a brazen curiass with their beaks." I can only interpret this flock to be an unruly mob of barnyard cocks, only recently bred from East Asian jungle fowl. So the hero Heracles was merely inflating the experience of your typical farm kid who is assaulted by his family's rooster when he goes to throw out grain.
To finish this post, allow me to share my observation that the Greeks had a strong inclination to go out and subdue the wilderness rather than harmonize with it. The labors of Heracles and exploits of other heros are motivated by an impulse to control and dominate wild life. I should hardly be surprised by this since it is the general thrust of our whole Western culture of which ancient Greece is one major wellspring. However up to this reading of Schwab I had typically thought of the wilderness conquistador mentality as something that came to us mainly through the xxxxxxxx Bible. It is hard to reconcile my disdain for this mindset with the admiration I have for the archetypical personae of some of the Olympian gods, especially Dionysus, Apollo, and Athena, whose image I hang around my neck.

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