Are there any other Homestucks who also love the Ancient Mediterranean or is it just me.
"Without love, it cannot be seen."
I did my graduation thesis on the evolution of the cult of Dionysus!
-- The Butch
Oh fuck yes, I wish I knew more about the Dionysian cult I do love the ancient mystery cults.
"Without love, it cannot be seen."
I think my reading of Homestuck trends pretty classisist--I think Mind and Terezi in particular are really obviously influenced a lot by Themis, I could *make* an argument for Nepeta as Artemis/Hunter Goddess, and Gamzee/Purplebloods in particular *scream* Dionysus to me in such a way that it practically defines how I view the Rage aspect.
If Gamzee wasn't the likeliest for Yaldabaoth assignment in the troll session I'd be 100% sure his Denizen is Dionysus. I'm also interested in the places where cult worship of Dionysus seems to overlap with early cult worship of Christ--it colors my reading of Karkat and Gamzee as intermingled messiah and dark messiah of distinct but interrelated cults of worship.
I don't know how *accurate* any of my knowledge about Dionysus or the classics is because its largely based off just Reading Stuff Online, but I have a lot of fun thinking about it. I recently read two fiction books related to Dionysus, too:
Natasha Pulley's The Hymn to Dionysus, which is a kind of retelling of the myth of Dionysus a la Song of Achilles, by way of an M/M romance. I had a *lot* of fun with this one as a yaoi lover.
And The Secret History by Donna Tart, which is about a college student joining wrapped up in a classical greek college program that consists of literally just one teacher and like five students, and promptly getting wrapped up in a murder conspiracy related to the student's dionysian cult reenactment practices and the world's absolute *most* murderable guy since Gamzee Makara. Two really different stories, both very interesting.
'"I thought this was a love story," you say.
Your Lola's insistence has remained with you since the beginning, and you say these words in a quiet manner, with a shrug, as if to let these performers know it is fine, it does not matter that much, this thought—that maybe the definition of what a love story is could be stretched to include all that has up till now taken place. You say it like an apology. Like it is a thing to be apologized for.
A runaway child, charging through the porcelain shelves:
I thought this was a love story. I had hoped this was a love story.
You say it with shame, embarrassed at having said it, wishing you could take it back.
You say it, worried that you have betrayed some secret part of yourself that does not wish to be exposed—
an old gremlin in you, sick and yearning. You say it with hope.
Timid, and without conviction.
The hope of someone who knows they are about to wake from a dream to a reality they do not understand. The pub awaits, as does your empty bed.
I thought this was a love story.
You regret having said it; as if you know it will lessen the quality of the tale. Rob it of its smoke and shadow. But still, you say it.
And this moonlit body smiles. And from the wings the patting of the drums slowly builds, and the curtains behind the dancers rise. Because you are right, this moonlit body tells you;
This is indeed a love story. Down to the blade-dented bone.'
-You, in the Inverted Theater - The Spear Cuts Through Water
"I don't care if the best I can hope for is half of what I want. I'm not here for a realistic outcome. I'm just going to fight! Forever! With perfect greed! Until I get everything!"
-Saturn, Heaven will be Mine
