Brooch of Clytemnestra
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THE BROOCH OF CLYTEMNESTRA By Kathleen T. Moorhead A Thesis Submitted to the Faculty of The Dorothy F. Schmidt College of Arts and Letters in Partial Fulfillment of the Requirements for the Degree of Master of Fine Arts Florida Atlantic University Boca Raton, Florida May 2006 THE BROOCH OF CLYTEMNESTRA by Kathleen T. Moorhead This thesis was prepared under the direction of the candidate's thesis advisor, A Papatya Bucak, Department of English, and has been approved by the members of her supervisory committee. It was submitted to the faculty of The Dorothy F. Schmidt College of Arts and Letters and was accepted in partial fulfillment of the requirements for the degree of Master of Fine Arts. SUPERVISORY COMMITTEE: Dr. Andrew Furman Dr. Thomas Sheehan Dr. Andrew Furman Chairperson, Department of English ~~~ofAru&Lette~ s 11 ABSTRACT Author: Kathleen T. Moorhead Title: The Brooch of Clytemnestra Institution: Florida Atlantic University Thesis Advisor: A. Papatya Bucak Degree: Master of Fine Arts Year: 2006 The Brooch of Clytemnestra follows the adventures Margaret O'Brien, age thirteen, encounters when her family returns to The United States after living in Venezuela for ten years. Set in 1963, in the fictional town of Desolasol, located on southeastern coast of Florida, the O'Brien family must cope with cultural, social and religious changes in order to adjust to life in the U.S. The story takes place over the course of one week in story present in Florida, and over the course of one year in story past in Venezuela. The protagonist, Meg, runs afoul of the gods, when she unwittingly incurs the wrath of Zeus, who, along with the Pantheon of Greek gods, is summering on the coast in Desolasol. Meg is a normal girl, without magical powers. However, to protect herself, and her family, she must become willing to stand up to Zeus. 111 Table of Contents Prologue ............................................................................................... 1 Friday ................................................................................................ 17 Saturday ............................................................................................. 59 Sunday .............................................................................................. 126 Monday ............................................................................................ 169 Tuesday ............................................................................................ 233 Wednesday ........................................................................................260 Thursday .......................................................................................... 279 IV PROLOGUE In the beginning was Chaos. Literally. The heavens, the earth, the oceans did not exist. Rather, the seeds of possibility for everything and nothing slumbered in an amorphous, seething darkness the ancients called Chaos. How order was imposed on Chaos is a disputed matter; some tellers of tales say the God and the Goddess of All Things conspired, while others whisper of a snake and an egg. Yet more tales blame the North Wind, saying he consorted with Nature. The optimists among us propose Eros, the God of Love, as the firstborn of Creation in a valiant, albeit tragically misguided, attempt to vanquish Chaos. That's what the Bard taught me, and I pass it on to you; Creation was born out of the desire for Beauty ... ''I'm feeling more the desire for a drink." Mr. Eckberg rolled his head, to get the kinks out of his neck. "This baby bard doesn't really grab me, y'know?" Chiron shrugged. "We're on vacation. This young damsel, Kalliope, is apparently a native. No one ever bragged about 'The Glory of Florida'. However, Zeus always is interested in, shall we say, sampling the local talent?" This was the Pantheon's first visit to Desolasol, known by the locals as D'Sol, a small town on the southeast coast of Florida in the United States of America. Since the narrow island lay between the Atlantic Ocean and the Intracoastal, it was possible to stroll from one side of the island to the other to view the surrounding waters flooded with light from the rising to the setting sun. Hence the name, meaning "sunrise to sunset" in Spanish, an apt description believed to have been bestowed by el Colonel Guillermo St. Teresa de Luis Hernandez, who stumbled upon the island and its native inhabitants when his ship was blown off course en route to the Caribbean. As a vacation spot, it made sense, Mr. Eckberg reflected. Exchange rates were good in the late summer of 1963 and it wasn't every town that had facilities large enough to house the entire Pantheon with the sub rosa delicacy Hera and Zeus preferred while on vacation. Fortunately, D'Sol, though small, had been modernized in the early 20th century by scions of the burgeoning automobile industry who also preferred to have their winter haunts provide an acceptable level of comfort, yet still avoid the notice of the northern scandal sheets. Mr. Eckberg moved his cigar to the other side of his mouth. "Nice shoulders, though. She come with the house?" "This is a magnificent mansion," Chiron laughed. "I suppose you'd rather have a caddy?" "That's one tough course," Mr. Eckberg mused. He and Chiron stood on an eastern balcony of the mansion, looking out on the ocean. The golf course twisted alongside the Intracoastal, across the street. If he peered around the comer of the balcony, Mr. Eckberg could see the tee box for the murderous ih hole, where the previous day he'd sliced four balls into the water. The recollection did not put him in the mood to listen to the local bard telling her tale on the stage erected at the far end of the Grand Hall. A gleaming dark green, veined, marble floor, led up to and stretched off the sides of the stage. Two rows of channeled columns, carved from contrasting white marble with green and black veins, marched around the perimeter of the entrance hall. By a trick of perspective they seemed to come closer and closer together as they receded 2 in the shadows. The columns' capitals were lost in the gloom of the vaulted ceiling where indiscernible whispers fluttered. On either side of the colonnade ~ marble staircase, with deep steps, curved from the second floor balconies down into the entrance hall. Its balusters were intricately carved figures of men, women, animals and creatures from legend. Three point sconces holding unlit candles chaperoned the lovelies cavorting murkily in tapestries on the walls in between doorways outlined in obsidian arches that seemed to open onto hallways running off the entrance hall, although in the half-light it was hard to tell. Rustling sounds indicated the mansion was coming to life again as siestas, official or otherwise, gradually came to an end. The whispers filtering through the clubhouse most often concerned themselves with the banquet scheduled for later in the week to celebrate the end of summer and signal a return of the Pantheon to Mt. Olympus . .. .It was the desire for Beauty inspired the God and the Goddess to dance on the swells of the darkness. Sparks from their dancing feet caused fire to erupt from the depths of the void, showers of sparks streaming into the skies, rising to create the Heavens, lighting the way for the sun and the moon to follow. The light cast by those celestial orbs penetrated the troughs of the swells; the stalwart rays of the sun drawing forth rough hewn mountains, upthrust. .. "Upthrust? pftt - that's it! " Mr. Eckberg flicked his tail. "A grown centaur can only take so much. Next trip we bring a real Bard with us." A tearful gasp came from the proscenium as Mr. Eckberg realized, too late, his voice was clearly transmitted by the vaulted ceiling. Kalliope threw a drape over her head and began to wail. Accusing faces turned towards the balcony. 3 "Most ungallant, Bob." Chiron chuckled. "Now apologize prettily." Mr. Eckberg gritted his teeth. "A thousand pardons. Please continue," he waved his arm, and muttered under his breath, "someplace else." ... UPTHRUST crags, expanding plains while the fey silver cast by the moon shadowed glades and slumbering forests, rivers newly coursing, searching, yearning for lands stamped by the sun. And the God and the Goddess danced on, while the lights of the Heavens swayed and the Earth trembled and quaked. And as the firmaments rose, the darkness fell, fell, fell. When at last the God and the Goddess rested, the darkness cooled in swirls around their feet and the God and the Goddess laughed to feel the coolness against their heated skin. They wriggled their toes in delight, sending forth ripples swirling tiny white froths over the water reflecting blue from the Heavens, green from the Earth while the darkness fell, fell, fell, pooling through the Earth and through the Ocean to gather finally in secret caves, in hidden depths and beyond, there waiting until such time as it would be called forth again. And the God and the Goddess rested, well pleased with the Beauty surrounding them ... "How are Hera and Zeus managing these days?" Chiron inquired. "I hear the peace is fragile." "When is it otherwise?" Mr. Eckberg shrugged. "There was an episode ... one that could have, probably would have, passed us by if it hadn't been for Amphitrite." Chiron squinted at the sky, and fingered his beard. "Amphitrite? Can't place her." 4 "No reason you would, she's new - one of the lovelier, and cleverer, of the Nereids. She caught Poseidon's eye, then fled fetchingly enough, apparently, since he I married her." Mr. Eckberg cleared his throat, "Revels in her position of Zeus' sister-in- law at every opportunity." ... While they slept they dreamed together a dream of twelve Giants who sprang forth, eager to explore the new world lying before them. When the God and Goddess awoke they found the Giants disporting themselves in the wanton manner of heedless children; throwing boulders tom from cliffs into the Ocean, uprooting trees to hurl at each other in the virgin forests. The God left off his slumbers with the Goddess and leapt into the fray, ripping entire mountain tops from their summits and flooding valleys, so anxious was he to show that he was Lord over the Giants.