How to Tell a Story
Cecrops, the half-snake king of Attica, presided over a contest of the gods to see which one would be patron of his vibrant, thriving city. Poseidon and Athena each wanted the prize, and it was decided that whoever bestowed the best gift upon the city would receive the gift of the citizens’ worship. Poseidon struck his mighty trident upon the ground, and from that spot flowed a spring. Cecrops’s people rejoiced until they discovered that the spring ran salty. As her gift, Athena planted a seed that grew into an olive tree, providing food, shade, and oil to burn. Cecrops chose Athena as the winner, and the city came to be known after her as Athens. Poseidon, a sore loser, flooded much of Attica under a sea now known as Erekhtheis.
My daughter Q, just a week from turning 12, tells me this story in front of what’s left of the Erectheum, a temple on the north side of the Acropolis in Athens dedicated to this mythical contest between Poseidon and Athena. An olive tree grows vigorously in front of the bright ruin, its leaves copious and narrow and sharp like a regiment’s spears. The Acropolis sits high up more or less in the center of Athens, and looking west we can see for miles, out to where the ocean meets the land and even further still to where the ocean meets the sky. I imagine the Greeks standing watch here for warships coming in for them, heavy with soldiers and ambition.
A sign informs in several languages that this particular…
