Ivan Yefremov - Thais of Athens

Then he gave to Thais a pair of earrings of astonishing craftsmanship, which she thought were most likely the last thing of value he had managed to keep over his long journey. The earrings were made of transparent pale green stone of uncommon strength and consisted of rings and miniature balls, one inside the other. The amazing piece of art had been carved out of a solid piece without the integrity of the stone being broken. The earrings dangled from gold hooks, jingling delicately and sounding like the echo of a distant wind over dry reeds. Tiny rosettes enclosed within the balls were made of faceted pieces of stone which were called “tiger’s eye” in the distant empire. They shimmered through the slits in the stone with a mysterious, moon-like light. The incredible artistry of that country’s stone carvers surpassed everything the Helenians had ever seen. It only convinced them further of the truth of the traveler’s story. The Athenians took time to marvel at the creation, but Thais was afraid to wear such a rarity too often.

The yellow-faced man surprised Lysippus and Thais by telling them a legend about the birth of the first creatures. He said they had come from an egg, dropped by the God of the Sky Tian’ into the Great Waters. Thais was very interested in the story because this legend closely resembled the Orphic teachings about the beginning of all beginnings.

Guan-Yin, the mother of mercy and knowledge, was equal in power to the male deities of Sky and Thunder. She was also similar to the Great Mother of Crete and Asia Minor.

In the end, the traveler saddened Thais with his conviction that all things in the world have two beginnings: Yang and Yin. All things of light, day and heaven were associated with the male beginning called Yang, while all things of darkness, night and earth were associated with the female beginning called Yin. Yin was obliged to obey Yang, for only then would life flow toward light and heaven.

Thais shook her head with disdain, then told the yellow-faced man that his empire would always exist at a lower level of spiritual development than those countries in which the female beginning was recognized as that of benevolence and creation. Besides, countries where the female population was oppressed had never been known for their valor or courage in war or their struggle against enemies. Enslavement of women was inevitably followed by the birth of men with souls of slaves.

Lysippus gently reminded the enraged Athenian of some of the names of Kibela, the great female goddess. For instance, he said, there was the Ruler of the Lower Abyss and Queen of Earth, which were consistent with the aspect of Yin. Thais retorted that the Great Mother had many guises. The problem was not in them, but in the consequences of societal structure which had been created by men attempting to establish their supremacy.

Much to the Athenian’s surprise, the yellow-faced man suddenly slumped. The piercing lights in his narrow eyes faded with sadness. He admitted that despite all the might of his country, the skill of the artists, and the hard work of the people, the Heavenly Empire was torn by civil wars and frequent external attacks from battle-skilled nomadic tribes.

The cruelty of their rulers made life intolerable. They distanced themselves from the lives of their people and were indifferent to disasters such as poor crops, floods and droughts. If they’d possessed more courage, this man and his compatriots would have long since revolted, overthrown the evil rulers, and eliminated cruel laws. The man lamented that all they needed was a little courage so they could escape from the country where they lived in crowded, suffering poverty, subject to injustice because of overpopulation. They needed at least as much valour as the weakest soldier in Alexander’s army. Through this admission, the Helenians realized that the legendary empire, while bearing a proud name, was no better than any other country ruled by tyranny.

Thais was completely undone by another of the traveler’s confessions. He told them he had been inspired by a legend about paradise. The legend said he should go west, to a land inhabited by Dragons of Wisdom and located within a circle of tall mountains somewhere in the center of Asia. He had crossed Central Asia and all of its rocky deserts and come to Mesopotamia, where western legends placed another paradise of perfect happiness. But he had found nothing like that which the legend had said existed. Instead, he discovered it was simply a fairy tale invented by European scholars in order to take their people out of slavery in Egypt and lead them to the east.

The yellow-faced man consoled himself with the truth that he might not have found paradise, but he had discovered a wisdom which was much different from the mindset of his native people.

Thais was reluctant to part from the traveler. The Athenian’s irresistible charm broke some of his reluctance, but he refused to draw any maps or mark any distances until he met with Alexander.

He confided in her that instead of paradise and Dragons of Wisdom, he had met kind, welcoming people. They lived in stone structures on the slopes of tall mountains at the origins of the greatest river of the Heavenly Empire, the River Blue. These people considered themselves to be followers of a great Indian wise man. The wise man taught them to always follow the middle way between two extremes, between good and evil, between light and dark. He advised this because he said all things in the world change with time. What was good today could become bad tomorrow, and evil could turn good overnight. The traveler wanted to stay with them and become their student, but they sent him further to the west, where nobody knew of the great countries of the east. They said there he would find a man who had power enough to unite East and West by using the wisdom of both. The traveler was to see that man, the great conqueror Alexander, and tell him of the paths and countries beyond the Roof of the World. But he was only to share this knowledge if Alexander turned out to be as wise and perceptive as they had heard.

“And what if he is not?” Lysippus asked quickly.

“Then I am not to tell him anything,” the traveler said evenly.

“They could find out by force,” the sculptor insisted.

The yellow-faced man chuckled disdainfully. “The road is long, the distances are tremendous, mountains and deserts carry no water and are swept by terrible winds. A small error in directions would only be discovered years later, but it would lead them astray by thousands of stadiums, toward their deaths.” He suddenly erupted into a broken, squealing laugh.

A huge caravan arrived in Ecbatana, dispatched by Alexander from the tallest range of Parapamizes. The mountains, their surfaces glittering with ice, stood twice as tall as Olympus and even more majestic. Much to their delight, when the Macedonian army, or rather the part of it led by Alexander and Ptolemy, reached the foot, they ran into ivy-covered hills. Among them lay the city of Nyssa.

In Alexander’s opinion, both the ivy and the name of the city proved that Dionysus had stopped here at the end of his journey to India. The local tribes weren’t dark but had a slightly coppery skin color. They did not look like the surrounding tribes and undoubtedly had arrived from the west. The Macedonians were struck by the sight of numerous herds of thriving livestock, especially the bulls, which were spotted, long-horned and enormous. The king immediately sent a caravan of these bulls to Macedonia.

When the caravan arrived at Ecbatana, three quarters of the animals were still intact. Thais ran to inspect the bulls, moved more by them than she had been by a letter from Ptolemy. She had to force herself to walk away from the splendid animals. They would rest for two months at a mountain pasture near Ecbatana before the next march to Tyre, followed by a sea voyage to Alexander’s homeland.