Neither Good Nor Bad: How Prometheus Stole Fire for Humankind



  Neither Good nor Bad:

  How Prometheus Stole Fire for Humankind

  by Lowell Uda

  Copyright Lowell Uda 2013

  Cover Design by Lowell Uda

  Cover Image by bebenov/ShutterStock:

  Table of Contents

  Neither Good nor Bad: How Prometheus Stole Fire for HumankindGlossary

  Brief Bio of the Author

  Where to Find Lowell Uda Online

  Neither Good nor Bad:

  How Prometheus Stole Fire for Humankind

  Out of mud the Titan Prometheus made men. In Phocis, on the banks of the Cephissus River, he molded them in the likeness of Olympian gods--some like Zeus, God of the Heavens, some like Hades, God of the Underworld, and some like Poseidon, God of the Seas. Zeus' daughter Athena, Goddess of Wisdom, breathed life into them.

  ''You had better watch out, now," said Athena. "Zeus will be angry."

  Athena hoped that Prometheus, who was clever and wise, and who could foretell the future, knew what he was doing. She knew that anticipating the outcome of Zeus' war against the Titans, Prometheus had abandoned his own kind to help Zeus and the Olympians. In gratitude for his clever council and help in defeating the Titans, her father had gifted Prometheus with the task of peopling the earth with creatures for the amusement of the gods. These creatures may in some way resembled the gods, Zeus ordered, but none may be exactly like the gods.

  Athena had observed that her father's gratitude went only so far. And indeed, when he asked what Prometheus had done that day, and Athena told him, Zeus was furious. "Damn him!" said Zeus, thundering about the heavens. He picked up a thunderbolt and slammed it against the walls of Olympus.

  "But, Father," said Athena, "look at them. Prometheus calls them men, but they are like naked little ants. They live in caves. They eat worms."

  "Damn him! He's made men like gods!" insisted Zeus, undeceived.

  ''They have a bit of the lion in them." He roared, showing that he had a bit of the lion in himself. '"And a bit of the deer, a bit of the cow, and a bit of the serpent, and a bit of the fox and dog!" He transformed himself into each of these animals. "The monkey and the owl, the dove and the vulture!" He picked up another thunderbolt from beside his throne and slammed it against the walls of Olympus.

  Zeus' crippled son Hephaistos, a clever smith who wore a shield over one eye, was fashioning a needle by the fire. Grumbling, the hot needle still in his hand, he hobbled over to his father's throne. "You make so much noise," he said, "I can't hear myself think!"

  "Mind your own business," said Zeus, "or I'll throw you over the walls of Olympus again and break your other leg!" He sat down on his throne of black marble and gold, clenched his tremendous hands and roared angrily.

  "Be not like the lion," muttered Hephaistos, hobbling back to his fire. "Be like the owl."

  "Come back here, you one-eyed, crooked, disjointed, sniveling thing!" shouted Zeus. "What do you mean, 'Be not like the lion.' Explain yourself!"

  Laying down his needle, Hephaistos hobbled back to his father's throne. Zeus laughed.

  "Prom-me-me-me-theus' m-m-men," Hephaistos stuttered, "o-o-only look like g- g- gods."

  Zeus roared.

  "B-b-but they do-do-don't have h-h-heav'nly fff-fff-fffire." Tears rolled down Zeus' heavy cheeks. His belly shock. Cruelly, he was laughing at his stuttering son, whom he himself had crippled.

  "Father!" said Athena, trying not to laugh herself, for she was wiser than Zeus, and understood why Hephaistos stuttered in the presence of his father. "Father--Hephaistos is right. Prometheus' men live in caves. They eat worms. They don't have fire. They are not like gods."

  Zeus roared even louder, shaking the heavens with all his laughter.

  "Damn him!" he said.

  2

  When he heard from Athena that Zeus was angry at him, Prometheus laughed. He sat down on a huge boulder, around which the men he had created were grubbing happily for worms, and laughed and laughed. Prometheus' brother Epimetheus, who was guarding the box in which Prometheus had imprisoned all the evils that might plague men, such as war, Hatred, Greed, Pain, Disease, and Blind Hope, said, nervously:

  "Don't laugh so loud, Prometheus. Zeus may hear you."

  "Oh, let him," said Prometheus. "Zeus is indebted to me. And I can foretell the future, and see what lies before me."

  "Zeus is not all that indebted to you," said Athena. "He may feel indebted now, but he won't always feel that way. He forgets when it's convenient."

  "When Zeus was fighting Old Cronos for his throne," said Prometheus, defiantly, "who foresaw the outcome, and abandoned his own kind, and fought for and advised Zeus, and brought the war to a quicker end?"

  Wise Athena was silent.

  "I did!" said Prometheus. "They would have destroyed the world! And when the war was over, and Zeus and Hades and Poseidon were ready to fight each other--for the universe!--who stepped in and advised them, and prevented further destruction? Who persuaded them, with wisdom and patience, to cast lots, and to share the sovereignty?"

  "Shshsh. You did," said Epimetheus, glancing nervously toward Olympus.

  "I did!" shouted Prometheus. "Now Zeus is God of Heaven, Poseidon God of the Seas, and Hades God of the Underworld. And that isn't all! Do you remember, Athena, Zeus' headache--the one he had about the time you were born?"

  "I don't like to hear that story," said Athena. "You better not tell it."

  Prometheus laughed. "Zeus had such a pain in his head. 'Ohhhh,' he moaned, 'Ohhhh!' Hephaistos, and even Hermes, couldn't stand the noise anymore, and at their request, I took up Hephaistos' ax and chopped a hole in Zeus' head. In fact, I split it open. And out popped you, Athena, Zeus' headache, his brainchild."

  "It isn't funny," said Athena. "I let Zeus tell that story only because it's advantageous."

  "But it's true!" said Prometheus, still laughing. "I was there... "

  "If I did not admire your cleverness and your wisdom," said Athena, "I would be angry with you." And she flew off toward Mount Olympus.

  Prometheus stopped laughing. He was suddenly quite still, and sober. "Come," he said. "Sit."

  "I hope," said Epimetheus, "that Athena admires your cleverness and wisdom enough not to tell Zeus all those things you said." He set the box of evils down on the boulder and sat down beside Prometheus.

  "I am going to show them how to make string," said Prometheus.

  "String?" said Epimetheus. "Why string? Zeus--"

  "There are a lot of things you can make and do with string."

  "But--"

  "I know what I'm doing, Epimetheus. I can foresee enough of the future to know what I'm doing."

  And Prometheus showed the men he had created, who were grubbing happily for worms beside the boulder, how to make string, and what to do with string. And in the months and years that followed, he taught them other things as well, and their uses.

  He taught them to read the stars, and discern the seasons. He showed them the connection between the moon and the sea and all watery things. He invented numbers, and taught men how to count--to divide things into kinds and numbers--to add, subtract and multiply. And after they knew numbers, and how to apply them, Prometheus taught them letters, and how to record the past, the present, and their guesses at the future. He taught them to sing and dance, which they felt like doing every time the season changed or they slew a deer or a boar with the crude weapons Prometheus had taught them to make. They learned to dig for ore--iron and gold--and to value its hardness or softness.

  3

  "Damn
him, damn him, damn him!" stormed Zeus on Olympus. Long and loud he thundered. "Prometheus' men are getting more and more like the gods! Prometheus loves men more than he loves the gods! Prometheus loves men more than he loves the gods! Damn him, damn him!" Gathering up his lightning bolts, he threw them at everything around him. He smashed them against the walls of Olympus. He smashed them against the earth. CRASH! CRASH! CRASH! "DAMN HIM, DAMN HIM, DAMN HIM!"

  And on earth, everyone heard Zeus. They heard him thundering, Doom, doom, doom! Doom--moom--moom! Doom! Doom! Doom hoom--hoom--hoom! DOOM HOOM! And they shied from his lightning bolts. They cowered in their caves. They were afraid of the great god Zeus.

  "They have slain a deer," said Epimetheus, "and they would like to speak with you."

  "But why?" asked Prometheus.

  "See, they have slain a deer and skinned it."

  "I can see that," said Prometheus.

  "Well," said Epimetheus, "they would like to make a sacrifice to Zeus--to appease him. And wise and