You know, I’ve been thinking a lot about the Palestinian conflict recently. My heart goes out to all the innocent victims, men, women, children. I could have been them, I’m not special. I am just very, very lucky.
So I found myself thinking about the concept of war. Which is one of the oldest things in the world. It’s sad, very sad that while facing something slightly different from us, one of our first instincts was to fight it and eventually kill it.
And I’ve been thinking about one of the most ancient wars we have a record of, the Trojan War, which might have happened or not, but there are some details that make it look very, very real.
I’m sure you heard of this passage: the final goodbye of prince Hector, the greatest Trojan warrior, to her wife Andromache and their son Astyanax, before going to fight in duel with the strongest greek warrior, Achilles.
He leans in to kiss the newborn in his wife’s arms one last time, but is unable to do it because of his helmet. While he laughs with Andromache, Astyanax is frightened and starts to cry.
The beauty of the whole scene elevates this poem to something completely different from what it was supposed to be, but this little moment, this moment alone is absolutely heartbreaking.
Think about how Astyanax doesn’t even recognize his father. And how the helmet he didn’t even try to take off keeps him from showing affection to his only son.
A small, powerful image of how dehumanizing war can be.
How the most righteous, loving man can turn into an unrecognizable shadow.
And it takes really, really little for that to happen.
Maybe it’s stupid, I don’t know. I was just thinking about it.
Thinking about how many children cried their eyes out, and screamed until their lungs were soaking in blood, at the sight of those men.