Ivan Yefremov - Thais of Athens

“Then by keeping knowledge from the lower castes, you take their ignorance upon yourselves? That of millions of people?” Thais asked suddenly.

The elder priest reeled back and the tall Indian’s eyes flashed in anger.

“It is no worse than you Helenians for not letting your slaves study,” the elder Indian replied. “There are so few of you who are free, and so many of them. Their numbers grow greater each day. That is why your world will soon perish, despite your great conquests.”

Lysippus had to stop the Athenian once again when she wanted to disagree. Thais paced herself, reasoning that each faith had its weaknesses. Attacking them might have been appropriate in a public dispute, but not in a peaceful conversation. Instead of arguing further, the Athenian finally dared ask a question that had tormented her for a long time.

“My teacher, the great artist Lysippus, reproached me cruelly for one misdeed and even distanced himself from me for an entire year. Beauty is the only thing that ties people to life and makes them both value it and struggle against its challenges, diseases and dangers. People who destroy, distort or ridicule beauty must not live. They must be destroyed like rabid dogs for they are the carriers of incurable disease. Artists are like wizards who bring beauty to life, but are also held more responsible than those who are blind, because they can see. That was what Lysippus told me three years ago.”

“Your teacher is entirely correct and in complete agreement with the law of Karma,” the dark-skinned priest said.

“Thus when I destroyed the beautiful palaces of Persepolis, I destined myself to terrible punishments in this and future lives?” Thais asked sadly.

“Are you that woman?” the Indians asked, gazing at their guest curiously.

After a long silence, the elder priest spoke. And his words, pronounced with much gravity and certainty, gave comfort to the Athenian. “Those who wish to rule build traps for gullible people, and for the rest of us because we yearn for miracles and all things unusual. Those who want to control people’s minds construct traps by playing numbers, symbols and formulas, spheres and sounds, giving them semblance to the keys of knowledge. Those who wish to control emotions the way tyrants and politicians do, especially emotions of the mob, build enormous palaces that humble people and take over their emotions. A man who wanders into such a trap loses his individuality and dignity. The palaces of Portipora, as we call Persepolis, served as just such traps. You correctly guessed as much and served as the weapon of Karma, as the evil contained in a punishment sometimes serves the good. I would acquit you of Lysippus’ charges.”

“I realized that myself and forgave her,” the sculptor agreed.

“And didn’t explain to me?” Thais reproached.

“I realized it not with my mind, but with my feelings. Only our teachers from India who know Karma were able to put it into words for us,” Lysippus bowed, pressing his hands to his forehead after the Asian fashion.

The priests bowed even lower in response.

Thais returned to her room earlier than usual that day.

Eris moved a small table with food toward her, waited for the Athenian to satisfy her hunger then beckoned to follow her, smiling only with her eyes. Moving in silence, she led Thais to a staircase that served as transition from the front section of the temple to the main tower. Artemis Acsiopena stood framed by two staircases on a wide pedestal in front of a deep, unlit niche. Rays of light fell from small side windows high above and crossed in front of the statue, making the darkness behind her appear deeper. Bronze glistened as if Artemis had only just emerged from the darkness of the night, following the tracks of some criminal. Ehephilos was sitting at the foot of the pedestal with his eyes raised to his creation in prayer. He was so deep in thought that he didn’t move and didn’t sense the women’s arrival. Thais and Eris stepped back quietly and returned to their room.

“You destroyed him, khalkeokordios, you copper heart,” the Athenian said angrily, as she glared at the black priestess. “Now he will not be able to continue sculpting.”

“He is destroying himself,” Eris said indifferently. “He feels as if he must sculpt me, like a statue, according to his desires.”

“Then why did you let him …”

“In gratitude for the art and for the glorious dream about me.”

“But a great artist cannot drag himself after you like a slave.”

“He cannot,” Eris agreed.

“Then what are his options?”

Eris shrugged. “I am not asking for love.”

“No, but you inspire it. You are akin to a sword undercutting men’s lives.”

“What do you wish me to do, Mistress?” Eris asked, using her former subservient tone. The Athenian read sad determination in the blue eyes.

Thais held her and whispered a few gentle words. Eris huddled against her like a younger sister, losing her goddess-like serenity for a moment. Thais patted her head and smoothed down the thick mane of her hair, then went to Lysippus.

The great sculptor became seriously concerned with the fate of his best pupil and took Thais to see the priests.

“You spoke of knowledge as salvation,” he began, once the four of them were settled in the round hall. “According to you, the suffering that exists in the world would have decreased many fold had people spent more time pondering troubles that originated from ignorance. This very accurate statement coexists for you with inhumane laws of the mystery of knowledge. However, in addition to one’s mind, there are also one’s feelings. What do you know of them? How can one conquer Eros? We are losing a great sculptor, the one who created the statue purchased by your temple.”

“If you mean the goddess of the night Ratri, she is not for the temple. She is only kept here before being sent forth to India.”

“We consider her the goddess of the moon, health and women, equal to Aphrodite,” Thais said.

“Our goddess of love and beauty, Lakshmi, is only one light side of the deity. The dark side is the goddess of destruction and death, the punishing Kali. Before, in the ancient times, when each deity was both benevolent and menacing, they were combined in the image of the night goddess Ratri, whom I serve,” the dark-skinned priest said.

“How can you worship only the female goddess if your gods send heavenly beauties to crush the might of scholars?” Lysippus asked. “In that respect, your religion appears evolved to me, for it places men on equal footing with gods, but it also appears primitive, because its deities use beauty as a weapon of unworthy seduction.”

“I do not see anything unworthy in such seduction,” the priest said, smiling. “After all, it is not a mere yakshini, a demon of lust, who carries it out, but a celestial beauty imbued with arts and high intelligence, much like her,” he said, glancing at Thais.

Mischief long contained suddenly took over Thais, and she directed a long, passionate gaze at the priest.

“What was I talking about?” the priest muttered, then rubbed his forehead, trying to remember. “Ah yes. There are two ways toward perfection and enlightenment, both of them secret. One is asceticism, a complete denial of all desires, a path of deep thought connecting the lower consciousness with the higher one. First and foremost it requires elimination of the merest thought of that which you call Eros. That is where a woman with her power is an enemy.”

“As in the Hebrew faith where she is the reason of the original sin, destruction of paradise and other troubles.”

“No, not like that. Besides, you apparently do not know the depth of their religion, which secretly follows Babylonian wisdom. You do not know Cabala. We do not have a personal god at the height of philosophy of the sacred Upanishads. There is only Parabrahman, the reality of all-encompassing Cosmos. In a similar way, there is no personal menacing Jehovah in Cabala, but there is Eyn-Soph, the endless and limitless existence. The absolute Truth appears in the form of a nude woman named Sephira. Together with the male beginning Hokma, wisdom, and female mind Bina, Sephira forms a threesome, or the crown of Kater, the head of Truth. Women are allowed into sanctuaries. The Kadeshim maidens are sacred in their nudity and dedicated to god, akin to our temple dancers, Finikian and Babylonian women, to say nothing of your priestesses of Aphrodite, Rhea and Demeter. There are many similarities between ancient faiths, originating from the same place and headed in the same direction.”