Here's where my writing started to shift from non-fictional prose to fictional myth.
After writing Fatherdom, I immediately became enamored with the idea of writing a shadow companion piece. Fatherdom was a meditation on Order and I felt I needed to explore Chaos with the same devotion. I figuratively (and later literally) wanted them to mirror one another.
The prose of Hellas is different from Fatherdom, in that is "the Eros to its Logos." Or rather the emotion to its logic. Because some things are better felt, or lived in, the piece shifts to more of a myth style piece than just non fiction philosophy.
Because it was a book of Chaos I felt it was to be expected that the chapters are out of order, the formatting is nontraditional. In fact, the whole thing is quite disorienting, and that was the point.
Sound odd? It is— but it's not all in vain. Hellas is steeped in Greek myth and mirrors one of the oldest Babylonian myths ever contrived— Inanna's Descent.
Descent narratives are not uncommon in mythology. Inanna was the first of many, there were multiple Greek narratives, Egyptians as well. In fact, it was also touched on in the Resurection of Christ.
Were these myths simply an infatuation with returning from death or was there something more symbolic in these allegories? There are multiple interpretations Inanna's tale. I like to think that many descent tales symbolically tell a natural psychological phenomenon that we all experience but perhaps can't identify with laymen terms, so instead we tell tales to feel interconnected on the matter.
Call it a "depression," call it "despair," Hellas is a meditation on godlessness and nihilism, paradox and dissolution, yet cryptically calls out our tendency to repress our shadow.
Like, Fatherdom, Hellas is fueled by my passion for Ancient Alchemy. But unlike Fatherdom which attempts to postulate a catharsis of Order, Hellas seeks clarity in complete disintegration.
The time in which I wrote the book I was quite invested in synchronicity and mystical happenstance. It is potentially the most visceral creative work I may ever produce. I challenge you to take the descent into Katabasis— the descent into the psychological sea of the mind!
Perhaps, burning away all false order is the only way to see what truly remains.
