Why care about that shield? I will get another, just as good

After his victory [against the Spartans], Aristomenes [king of Messenia] dedicated his shield at the sanctuary of Delphi, where Pausanias claims to have seen it personally.

"Upon it is an eagle with wings outspread so that they touch the rim."

Aristomenes had lost that shield in the battle, and went to considerable effort to retrieve it. This was because the shield of a heavy infantryman was a bulky object, and the first thing that one discarded when running away. Aristomenes wanted to avoid the implication of cowardice.

His contemporaries elsewhere in Greece were less bashful. The contemporary poet Archilochus lost his shield as he fled a lost battle, and he remarked of the fact:

“Some Thracian now has the pleasure of owning the shield, I unwillingly threw into the bushes. It was a perfectly good shield,

but I had to save myself. Let it go. Why care about that shield? I will get another just as good.”

Philip Matyszak, Sparta: Rise of a Warrior Nation

Cupping my hands to my ears

An unusually bright moon woke me up, by shining in my face, and it would not let me sleep again. I dressed and went out for a walk.

It was 4:30 in the morning and the world was white with frost. We walked out of the farm, the dog and I, and up a steep incline to the crest of the nearby hill. The sky was perfectly clear, and the stars shone bright and butter-fat, and there was no wind at all.

Here and there, far away, gleamed the lights of distant farms. Right in front of me hung Orion, the Great Hunter, and to the right, The Pleiades, whom Old Norsemen compared to frosted fur.

The dog scented a fox and took off into the night. I cupped my hands to my ears to listen for her and slowly turned around on my heel. When you cup your hands like this, you hear exceptionally well. Any normal human can hear a fox cackling and point out the direction from which the sound comes. But when you cup your hands to your ears, you can hear exactly both direction and distance — that fox was in that copse of trees, maybe a mile away.

Slowly, as I turned, I took other sounds in: an owl hooting maybe a mile off; a car driving in a village four miles away (!) — I heard it before I saw the long beam of its lights lighting up briefly some trees on a distant hill. And then I heard the water gurgling in a stream maybe half a mile away.

Akhenaten: Elves Among Us

Marfan syndrome is a rare multi-systemic genetic disorder that affects the connective tissue. Those with the condition tend to be tall and thin, with long arms, legs, fingers, and toes. They also typically have overly-flexible joints and scoliosis. Bob Brier, Egyptologist, thought that perhaps this was the solution to the mystery of the appearance of Akhenaten: perhaps the pharaoh simply had the Marfan syndrome and, instead of worrying about his oddity (as many would do) decided that it was a sign that he had been chosen.

I think the answer is a psychological one. But how do you confirm a psychological theory about someone who has been dead for 3,000 years? I thought that if I talked to people with Marfan’s syndrome I might see how it affected their lives. How did they feel growing up different? Did they feel left out? Were they shunned?

A geneticist colleague working on Marfan’s syndrome suggested I talk to a New York chapter of people with the syndrome. I called the organizer of the group, Julie Kurnitz, to see if I could attend their meeting and try out my theory on them. I would give a brief slide lecture about Akhenaten and ask for the group’s reactions.

Most of the people who attended the meeting were women, many would blend in with any crowd; their physical characteristics were not extreme. But some could have been sisters of Akhenaten. Julie has classic Marfan features; she is tall with an elongated chin, narrow eyes, long thin arms, fingers, and toes, unusual features but not freakish. If anything, Julie is a handsome woman. Even before talking with the group, I revised my view of Akhenaten: he wasn’t a freak. You can look different without looking freakish. None of the women in the group had physical features that were shocking.

Julie introduced me to the group and I began talking about Akhenaten and showing slides. After the second slide, I began to hear a lot of “Yups,” and “Wows.” As I continued with slides of the elongated hands and feet of the royal family, there were even more exclamations—”Marfan toes!” They had found a kinsman from ancient Egypt.

After my talk I asked if any of the women had been treated differently when they were growing up, felt left out, had been shunned. And if so, how they had reacted. One woman said that as a child she was always told to stand in the back to hide her long hands when a family photo was taken. Another young woman with close-cut hair and wire-rimmed glasses told a similar story and then provided the insight I was looking for. She said she rebelled and did everything she could to accentuate her appearance, wore capes and strange clothing and bizarre makeup. Who knows what she would have done had she been king of Egypt.

Reading this has given me quite jump. You see the girl on the right? I was once in love with a girl who looked just like that!

Bob Brier, The Murder of Tutankhamun