Writer: Nikita Gill
Publishing House: Ebury Press
Date of Publication: September 5th 2019
”They murmur, in the beginning of everything;
from the bones of Chaos, rose a girl
who built the universe, the stars,
the planets, all because she was looking
for a place to dance.”
What if the Olympians were given the chance to narrate their lives and the demands of Fate? What if the gods and goddesses, the women of mythology, were able to share their view on the legends that shaped Western civilization? What if every great goddess were holding a mirror reflecting the issues and the challenges women are made to face daily? What if the deities have survived and are now walking amongst us, shaking their heads when they witness the mess we have created in this world?
Nikita Gill has given them a voice, presenting them to us in a new light, with respect and acute insight into the human nature that lies in each deity, each Greek myth.
I don’t need to say more. The following extracts speak for themselves…
”Questions for the Daughters of Nyx
Apate, how do you bear it? The broken beat of betrayal coming from all the countless hearts you let your deceivers tear to shreds with their lies?
I remind myself that lies are often truth-shaped.
They’re only containers you must turn inside out
and shake till the truth tumbles out, wide eyed and confused,
blinking in a light it never thought it would see.
Nemesis, does revenge ever tire you? Do the cries you craft with your scythe ever soften your heart?
I was born to bring justice.
Not to feel pity for those who felt nothing but glee
while building palaces
out of the tears born from their treachery.
Keres, do you ever wish for a life free of the violent deaths you feed upon from the battlefields to the cities?
Not while people still bring us bodies.
Not while there are still corrupt old men
sending unknowing boys to their deaths.
Not while the truth is a fire everyone sees
and no one puts out.”
Everyone thinks death is about endings, but it had always been her guide and teacher, her black hounds at her heel in every city she visited, cemetery after cemetery full of ghosts eager to meet her.
Does a heart that is rotted cease to be called a heart? Is a mortuary truly just full of flesh? Or is it simply waiting for you, Hecate, queen of paradox, of crossroads, to breathe it into second life again?”
”People think Achilles lived by my waters.
They are wrong. My waters are what ensured
that he would die. You too will meet me one day.
My name is Styx and I am hatred personified.”