Stories of the Styx 3

By Patrice Martinez

In artwork "Stories of the Stix", by Patrice Martinez, we find the protagonist Apohibos  in the the underworld, after his decapitation. He is condemned to spend eternity with forty nine nymphs and fiftieth Hypermnestra, who is destined to watch other forty nine nymphs to fulfill their duty correctly. Their duty is filling of a tank of water. Since the vases to carry watter has a holes in their bases, nyphs have eternal, never ending hard job - they are spilling water while trying to fill tank.
     Apohibos starts to narrate them stories about his terrestrial life. He was a sailor so he narrates his numerous adventures. He is hopping that story telling will lead him and beautiful nymphs to Champs - Elysees (ancien Greeks' paradise). In his stories we meet, together with humans, gods, half-gods, nymphs, witches, dwarfs and other mythological creatures. Mister Patrice Martinez shows again his deep and wide knowledge of antic world. Because of his anthropomorphic gods he riminds me of modern days Homer. On the other hand, his idea of shortening time by telling stories overwhelmingly reminds me of Boccaccio and his Decameron, only here we have not ten but only one story-teller. I hope his artwork will approach this amazing classical, ancient world that is actually the source of our civilisation to younger generations who avoid "fat, old, boring books" and in best case read short versions on network.
Nevertheless, every story is interesting and attracts and our attention. l find this book easy for reading, understendable and keeping reader's attention from cover to cover. Deffinitly worth of reading.

• Language: English
• Publisher: BadPress
• Release date: Mar 21, 2018
• ISBN: 9781547521715

Book preview

Patrice Martinez

Stories of the Styx

Volume 3

Phanès-editions

ISBN 979-10-91877-59-6

Illustration: John-Singer Sargent - The Danaids -

Intellectual Property © August 2016 second edition of Phanès-editions

Martinez Patrice

01, allee des Monts d'Olmes 31770 Colomiers (France)

PREAMBLE

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Pouahh! What a stench! I had scarcely sunk my Spartan sandals into the slime of the swamp, and a nauseating odor was rising from that murky morass, whose greenish bubbles were bursting there; beneath the surface of the turbid waters of the obscure Tartarus, in which strangely-shaped beings slid, causing waves to look like an ephemeral Greek letter lambda - a worthy symbol of the Spartan army. By instant, these dark creatures of sepulchral waters came to tickle my calf. Let me introduce myself: Aphobos, king of thieves and gloomy miscreant. My name is perhaps not strange to you, you may have followed my ... misadventures (Tales of Styx 1 and 2), and the last one still makes me smile: not long time ago – before just a few drops of clepsydra - I had met an ugly, dirty, and wicked Hecatonchire, his character was rather dullard. I escaped by telling him extravagant stories, from my a little crazy mind ... However, that did not exclude me from remaining held captive ad aeternam in the den of the god Hades, in this place where you are condemned for deeds you have committed during your lifetime, a murder or mischievous misdeeds ... The Scythian executioner's axe had fallen on my neck, causing a beheading that I will never forget. And as if that was not enough, during this ephemeral time that is considered life, you find yourself damned for ten thousand years again, under a dozen stadiums of the bark of our old mother Gaia, the Earth ... with companions like the Larvae, Shadows, Hecatonchires and Titans of Tartarus, this vast marshy expanse populated by monsters and others condemned for serious mistakes ... What a bad luck!

Well, that's not all, now I'm trying to reach the virtuous fertile plains of the Champs-Élysées and that's another history. Here, about history, here is one that I discern on the horizon (if we can talk about horizon, in this place so tormented) ... A few steps from the cadaver that was once my body, I see a Swarm of beautiful naiads all busy pouring water into a jar ... Let's see what it is and if this new meeting can satisfy my ego...

About twenty cubits from my poor carcass, I saw these beautiful young women lean over a trickle of water, fill their hydrie1, climb the rock and pour the contents into a huge container, and as soon as they had transferred the water, these nymphs with an alabaster complexion came down again, circled the pit of the underworld and plunged their clay containers back into the earthy ripple of the brook, then began again their infernal carousel ... At the base of the enormous reservoir, the water came out of it by a small hole, and these ladies did not seem to be bothered by this watery escape, which began to swell the stream. A few steps from the jar, leaning against a side of the cave, the most beautiful girl has devoted herself to wool spinning. The whiteness of the cotton fabric contrasted with the dark surroundings of Tartarus,