Butterfly, Owl & Eagle: AthenaMariePrima

[RascalPuff]

THE BUTTERFLY, OWL & EAGLE

Athena Marie Prima

A Novel-Journal, by K. B. Robertson

Copyright © 1981, ‘85, ‘99 & 2007

Prologue

Le Chrysalis
Although this story occurs among and upon the thresholds of some of Europe’s most sophisticated people - especially women - it is not an inquiry after these or a compendium of refined persons, but rather a brief, however specific sojourn with and among a small circle of particularly distinguished friends, circa 1959 through ‘62, including a year 2000 Epilogue; with an updated Addendum.

This story unfolds in dozens of Mediterranean ports, hundreds of miles apart, its three geographical focal points are Naples, Italy, and the French southern - northern Italian - Riviera. Among numerous other ancient family sanctuaries is included a particular triangle of modestly described ‘family cottages’ - very large houses, actually. Each different, yet having the same elegant white masonry and stone exteriors, having been built and inhabited by the same family for centuries.

Mother Mediterranean:
There is an undated legend that the isle of Corsica is the Right Hand of God, the finger of which points to the coastal intersection of the borders of the southern French and northern Italian Riviera; approximately at the location of Spezia, Italy. But then the Italians of Portofino and Genoa insist that the deified Corsican finger points at them. The only certainty is, if Corsica is indeed a finger of God, or just another island peninsula, it does point in the direction of the source of the argument, across 100 kilometers of the north-central Mediterranean’s Ligurian sea.



The subjected popular story with its followers is divided, even within its own ranks. Theirs’ is the question of what God’s reason might be, for pointing the area out - the French-Italian Riviera confluence. It may be a praiseworthy location, or, perhaps God is annoyed with the place. So goes a colorful and persistent Mother Med legend. Its cited indecision here is referenced to a metaphorical bottle of ancient yet unbruised wine stored on one of the seven hills of Italy's capital city of Rome. This record is the first opening and sharing of that figurative vessel and its yarn spinning, 'novel-journal' formatted contents.
Whether or not the blessed geographical if not deified digit is pointing in accusation or praise, is a panoramically stimulating question, at least as old as Thracian cartography. A fisherman’s Tarot. The crucible of an approximately equal number of culturally accusatory and complimentary legends. Long before Christ was a God or Jehovah a pup. Preceding Homer's Odyssey and the history of Herodotus.

South of these Rivieras is Napoli. Where this story can be said to have begun, in early 1959. The record begins with a viewing of some of its protagonists a year before any of them are even vaguely aware of their future bonds, with the mixed praiseworthy and accusatory consequences thereof.

Literary authorities maintain that the function of a novel is to entertain, and the function of a journal or text book is to edify. This novel-journal format respectfully defers to the dual purpose of conjunctive entertainment and edification.

The Pact
That: ‘When life loses its value, and is taken for naught, this is to be avenged.'
- Kara, the Defender.
Excerpt from HEAVY METAL (the movie, and the mission)

Athena, the Greek Goddess of Wisdom & War

Chapter One

LE CONTES AND THE FISHERMAN
Southern Italy, March 1958
This afternoon, the Cardinal from Rome will conduct the annual, Vatican sponsored Good Luck blessing of Port Messina’s fisher people and their boats. The conglomerate, festivity decorated fishing vessels began to arrive here days ago, from dozens of local and remote, Sicilian and southern Italian ports; with more arrived today than yesterday, and so on, for the past week.

About 30,000 cheerfully reverent land based fishing industried families and friends have gathered in the course of this morning and incumbently early afternoon. Loosely assembled and camped out on picnic tables and improvised blankets upon this grassy shore, surrounding a series of U-shaped docking and mooring locations.

Most of the presiding fishing vessels will soon sail into the Tyrrehenian Sea, NNW of Sicily; from the toe of Italy’s geographical boot - right where the mainland is legendarily said to be cartographically kicking Sicily out of the Italian Family - at the Sicilian port of Messina, on the same Straits.

Some of the larger boats here will soon depart and venture through the Gibraltar Straits into the open North Atlantic. Traveling as far as south Newfoundland and Nova Scotia to take on, eviscerate, salt and/or refrigerate mackerel and ‘the beef of the sea’ - codfish from the cold black, world famous reward of ‘New England’s Grand Banks.’

A Swell Fishing Place
More than distance made such expeditions prohibitive to most European based cottage industried fisherman inside the Pillars of Hercules; more recently called Gibraltar Straits. Due west from there the North Atlantic deep carries on, way past the Azores, across the Great Piddle Dee Dee, to the Grand Banks proper. North by northeast of the North American continental shelf, where the Atlantic becomes a relatively shallow pasture in the upper left hand corner of the cartographically represented Gulf Stream reinforced Sargasso Sea. Due north of which lies the characteristically fog-bound Grand Banks shallows, surrounded by deep sub oceanic valleys; birthing great culminating briny mountains, the equivalent of permanently gale driven, politely round-topped swells even when there is little wind. With a one pennant Gale Force wind of only 20 knots these seas are hazardous to all small craft. With a two pennant Gale Force of forty knots, they are deadly, curling and breaking, white-capped fishing boat killers, accountable to the continental North American shelf and the deep trans-oceanic rollers rising up when they encounter the subjected shallows.

The ever culminating Gulf Stream Current’s northbound choppy-lump stacks up, coming home on the surface from the deep, as formerly gentle round topped swells roll into and are thrown as snowy bearded, curling white-caps, up and over the relatively shallow Grand Banks area of North Atlantic Fishing Heaven: the intrinsically dynamic oceanic prices paid for enjoying the best harvests of as many fish as there may be in any of the other six major seas.
La Mar Norte is notoriously temperamental and capricious here; the very tempestuous North Atlantic at large, is named after the legendary ‘Lost Island of Atlantis’ it’s voraciously obscure self. Strongly rumored - of two possible locations - to be on or near this very continental sub oceanic shelf. The other considered location of Atlantis is tentatively speculated to be deep inside the Mediterranean Sea, across the Aegean reserved Grecian Isle Chain, where Mother Med hunkers up to the Middle East - west of Turkey and east Of Greece. The Lost City Of Atlantis may be between those two land masses just south of the Bosporus Straits separating southernmost Europe from the Middle Eastern Orient. Or, somewhere near or within the North Atlantic’s Grand Banks. There are responsible schools of thought that say there was an Atlantis in both - otherwise disputed - locations.
No one - not even Herodotus or Plato - has ever been sure, since the place disappeared, exactly where Ms. La Mar may have drop-zoned the contentiously elusive setting. She is said to have been fairly annoyed - stirred up, at the time. The cataclysmic event, recorded as having occurred in 1628 B.C. (Gezundheit?).

(Continued)
http://forums.delphiforums.com/Waboose2/

[labelwench]

I began reading your work some time ago and then life directed me elsewhere. I have doubled back on my track and just finished reading Chapter II - Eagle Eggs.

Is this your own childhood you are describing?

Is this an autobiography?

I am somewhat confused by it being described as a Novel-Journal. Perhaps you could clarify what category of writing you have presented, to aid me in better understanding your work?

Thank you in advance, for I am certain you will make matters clear to myself and other readers who may be wondering similarly.

[labelwench]

Chapter Four, Eagles Nest, now read.



Some mature subject matter, 'professionally' dealt with.

[RascalPuff]

I began reading your work some time ago and then life directed me elsewhere. I have doubled back on my track and just finished reading Chapter II - Eagle Eggs.

Is this your own childhood you are describing?

Is this an autobiography?

I am somewhat confused by it being described as a Novel-Journal. Perhaps you could clarify what category of writing you have presented, to aid me in better understanding your work?

Thank you in advance, for I am certain you will make matters clear to myself and other readers who may be wondering similarly.

Thank you so much for your interest, Lorrina. : )

Yes and no - that is, it's generally autobiographical, with considerable 'artist's license' - to enhance the 'recreational reader's interest' factor.

Please let me know what you think of it - en toto - whenever you may read the entirety.