Xo orpheus fifty new myt.., p.1
Support this site by clicking ads, thank you!

Xo Orpheus: Fifty New Myths, page 1

 

Xo Orpheus: Fifty New Myths
Select Voice:
Brian (uk)
Emma (uk)  
Amy (uk)
Eric (us)
Ivy (us)
Joey (us)
Salli (us)  
Justin (us)
Jennifer (us)  
Kimberly (us)  
Kendra (us)
Russell (au)
Nicole (au)



Larger Font   Reset Font Size   Smaller Font  


Xo Orpheus: Fifty New Myths


  PENGUIN BOOKS

  KATE BERNHEIMER is the editor of the World Fantasy Award–winning anthology My Mother She Killed Me, My Father He Ate Me: Forty New Fairy Tales, as well as Mirror, Mirror on the Wall: Women Writers Explore Their Favorite Fairy Tales and Brothers and Beasts: An Anthology of Men on Fairy Tales. She is also the author of the story collection Horse, Flower, Bird, the novels The Complete Tales of Ketzia Gold, The Complete Tales of Merry Gold, and The Complete Tales of Lucy Gold, and several children’s books. The founder and editor of the literary journal Fairy Tale Review, she has spoken on fairy tales at the Museum of Modern Art, Harvard University, and the 92nd Street Y. She teaches at the University of Arizona and lives in Tucson, Arizona, with her husband, the writer Brent Hendricks, and their daughter.

  PENGUIN BOOKS

  Published by the Penguin Group

  Penguin Group (USA) LLC

  375 Hudson Street

  New York, New York 10014

  USA / Canada / UK / Ireland / Australia / New Zealand / India / South Africa / China

  penguin.com

  A Penguin Random House Company

  First published in Penguin Books 2013

  Copyright © 2013 by Kate Bernheimer

  Penguin supports copyright. Copyright fuels creativity, encourages diverse voices, promotes free speech, and creates a vibrant culture. Thank you for buying an authorized edition of this book and for complying with copyright laws by not reproducing, scanning, or distributing any part of it in any form without permission. You are supporting writers and allowing Penguin to continue to publish books for every reader.

  The selections in this book are the copyrighted property of the respective authors.

  Page 547 constitutes an extension of this copyright page.

  LIBRARY OF CONGRESS CATALOGING-IN-PUBLICATION DATA

  Bernheimer, Kate.

  xo Orpheus : fifty new myths / Kate Bernheimer.

  pages cm

  ISBN 978-0-14-312242-5

  ISBN 978-0-698-13626-7

  1. Mythology, Greek—Fiction. 2. Greece—History—Fiction. 3. Fantasy fiction.

  PS3602.E76.X6 2013

  813'.608037—dc23

  2013020128

  These selections are works of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the authors’ imaginations or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Contents

  About the Author

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Epigraph

  Introduction by KATE BERNHEIMER

  In the modern characterization of Orpheus, culled from diverging stories of antiquity, Orpheus is the best musician of all time—let’s make that the greatest artist. Orpheus could play the lyre so well that animals, rocks, and trees danced to his songs; he was so good at his chosen instrument that he even charmed Hades into letting his bride, who had died after falling into a pit of vipers, return to the world of the living. But Orpheus made one little mistake.

  ANTHROPOGENESIS AND NORSE CREATION MYTH

  Laura van den Berg

  Anthropogenesis

  Or: How to Make a Family

  The city was their home. Top floor of a narrow brownstone, no elevator, hallways as dark as caves. They lived near a train yard, where the tracks intersected like arteries. Twice a day, the passing trains shook their tiny apartment like a toy. It was not an extraordinary place, but extraordinary things would happen there.

  ARGOS

  Joy Williams

  Argos

  Perhaps you’ve read of me. I am the hound old Argos. I once belonged to the hero Odysseus some twenty-seven, twenty-eight hundred years ago. Homer granted me a few lines in his epic. He presented me then in a pathetic light.

  BACCHANTES

  Sabina Murray

  The Sisters

  From the start, it was a mistake. Carson Bakely was an earnest student, but he possessed a mediocre intellect, and, frankly, I wasn’t sure what to do with him. He showed up during office hours one sunny afternoon when I had been left to my book—all the other graduate students were no doubt filling the outdoor seats at the Cambridge bars—looking freshly scrubbed and ready for some assignment.

  BAUCIS AND PHILEMON

  Edward Carey

  Sawdust

  I remember them, though I was only a child. They would always be together. If you looked out for them you might see them on a street corner, or you would come across them at dusk leaned up against a tree, heaving and muttering.

  BROWNIES

  Maile Chapman

  Friend Robin

  I knew well that my mother had been wanting to move closer to me for some time, so when she took a fall on the sidewalk outside her senior apartment complex back east I broke her lease and brought her to Nevada.

  THE CALIPH OF ONE THOUSAND AND ONE NIGHTS

  Text and Illustrations by David B.

  The Veiled Prophet

  CANDAULES AND GYGES, AS TOLD BY HERODOTUS

  Elanor Dymott

  Henry and Booboo

  It would be eight years before he told her he’d killed them. Or at least, before he told her he held himself responsible for their deaths, which at the time were put down to natural causes: dehydration, the heat of the sun, overexertion.

  COYOTE MYTHS

  Shane Jones

  Modern Coyote

  After the doctor gave them the choice, they took their baby home.

  “He’s here,” said Ben, into the phone. “They let us leave.”

  CRONOS

  Aimee Bender

  Devourings

  The ogre’s wife was a good woman. She was not an ogre, but she was ugly, by human standards, and she had married the ogre because he was strong and productive, and together they had made six small ogre children. The children all took after their father.

  DAEDALUS

  Ron Currie, Jr.

  Labyrinth

  Once there was a boy whose father built a labyrinth.

  This is a different story from the one you know. This father didn’t build the labyrinth to imprison a half-man, half-bovine monster. He didn’t build it to appease a king. No one’s going to fashion wings out of feathers and wax, and no one will plummet into the ocean to demonstrate the price of hubris.

  DAEDALUS

  Anthony Marra

  The Last Flight of Daedalus

  The villagers watched as he touched down on sand. Shoulder-sore, sun-pink, his arms caged in wooden shelves of feathers, he was not the harpy, not the geryon they had feared. He wore his beard in the style of Minos.

  DAPHNE

  Dawn Raffel

  Daphne

  And so it came to pass that Daphne grew weary of being a tree. For centuries, Daphne had been grateful for her wooden status, and had even come to quietly enjoy Apollo’s visits, during which he swore abiding adoration.

  DEMETER

  Maile Meloy

  Demeter

  When they divided up the year, Demeter had chosen, for her own, the months when the days start getting longer. It was easier that way. It meant that she delivered her daughter back to her ex-husband in the late, bright Montana summer and she could handle it then, most of the time, with a little pharmaceutical help.

  DEMETER AND PERSEPHONE

  Willy Vlautin

  Kid Collins

  Walt Collins is at the Fitzgerald playing blackjack when his sister, Lorna, waves to him from across the table. She has her five-year-old daughter Cora with her. She also has a black eye and a dried line of mascara down her cheek.

  ERIS

  Gina Ochsner

  Sleeping Beauty

  She might have been considered pretty. The other girls in Yakutsk Children’s Home #5 told Lena that she was. Full lips, dark flashing eyes, violet like a storm gathering over the ice. Lena would be prettier if she wasn’t so angry, Director Laskaya said to the girl from time to time.

  GALATEA AND PYGMALION

  Madeline Miller

  Galatea

  It was almost sweet the way they worried about me.

  “You’re so pale,” the nurse said. “You must keep quiet until your color returns.”

  GOD AND SATAN

  Manuel Muñoz

  The Hand

  The town held twenty churches, large and small, north and south, east and west, on both sides of the railroad tracks. The Baptists and the Mennonites had dark glass doors and triangular arches, the walls of polished stones. The First Christian, a marble and cement façade made yellow by the rains. The Episcopalians, a tiny one-room with a red door glimmering through the winter fog.

  GOLEM AND PYGMALION

  Benjamin Percy

  The Dummy

  She was pretty enough for a man. That’s what people said about her. Short feathery hair. Shovel of a jaw. Eyes that seemed to squint with no sun.

  HADES

  Kate Bernheimer

  The Girl with the Talking Shadow

  My shadow learned to walk when I learned to walk, and her first word was also my own. When I lost my teeth, she lost her teeth too. The Tooth Fairy left me a quarter; my
shadow left me her teeth—under my gums. Over time they grew in.

  HUMAN PENTACHROMATS

  Edith Pearlman

  Wait and See

  Lyle stares at a lemon.

  How does the lemon appear to Lyle? The rough skin is what he has been taught to call yellow, and he knows many modifiers of that word—pale, bright, dull; he knows also metaphoric substitutes: gold, butter, dandelion, even lemon.

  ICARUS

  Georges-Olivier Châteaureynaud

  An Occasional Icarus

  Don’t think I write to be believed. At this point in my life, I couldn’t care less. Besides, there’s no chance anyone would buy my tale. If someone tried to lay it on me, I’d just shrug. Shrug all you want, then. What follows is true down to the very last word.

  KILLCROP

  Victor LaValle

  Killcrop

  Someone in the apartment was screaming. Had been screaming for a while now. Was it him? No. He didn’t think so. How could he scream underwater? Underwater was how he felt. Sunk. Waterlogged. Drowned.

  THE KRAKEN

  Ben Loory

  The Squid Who Fell in Love with the Sun

  Once there was a squid who fell in love with the sun. He’d been a strange squid ever since he was born—one of his eyes pointed off in an odd direction, and one of his tentacles was a little deformed.

  LAMIA/CHILD-EATING DEMON, GREEK

  Elizabeth McCracken

  Birdsong from the Radio

  “Long ago,” Leonora told her children, and the telling was long ago, too, “I was just ordinary.” Of course they didn’t believe her. She was taller than other mothers, with a mouthful of nibbling, nuzzling teeth, and an affectionate chin she used as a lever. Her hair was roan, her eyes taurine.

  THE LOTUS EATERS

  Aurelie Sheehan

  The Lotus Eaters

  Artesia jumped the fence into the broken-down-to-crap miniature golf course, and then came Pog, and then Pete and the other girl. The world was a gorgeous chocolate brown, a gleaming purring soft color that also glittered.

  THE MAENADS AND SINBAD THE SAILOR

  Elizabeth Evans

  Slaves

  We lived in caves, on battlefields, in fortresses, schoolhouses, Hollywood, meadows, the Old West, cabins, huts, boxcars, castles. We knew our aptitude for gathering berries, being orphans, starring in movies, disarming witches, fleeing armies, teaching school, working in offices with typewriters and carbon paper, nursing soldiers, tending bar, building with twigs and bigger sticks.

  MAHABHARATA

  Max Gladstone

  Drona’s Death

  War rages on, and Drona is its heart.

  Some songs tell of good wars, kind wars, wars where, when the fighting’s over, you sit alone in the woods and breathe and think, this was good, this thing I’ve done.

  MONSTERS

  Sheila Heti

  So Many-Headed Gates

  Soon, all the trains fell apart. Then all the planes did. Then all the plants did. When the planes and plants and trains had been destroyed, it was time for him and I to show ourselves to each other in our true colors. After all, there was no natural beauty to distract us from each other now.

  EDITH HAMILTON’S MYTHOLOGY

  Kelly Braffet and Owen King

  The Status of Myth

  The day he was born, the Steelers won the Super Bowl. And that’s why, every year, our hero eats a football-shaped cake at his Super Bowl party. For many years, his mother made the cake; then, for a few years, the task fell to assorted girlfriends and other designated female intercessionaries.

  NARCISSUS

  Zachary Mason

  Narcissus

  Beautiful rooms full of light and fire and everyone pretending not to look at me. I was much desired, by rich boys with their hearts breathily on their sleeves, rich men’s wives d’une age certain in rather a lot of kohl, urbane and athletic Athenians who spoke of friendship and excellence, spendthrifty wine-factors whose chins trembled when I breathed on them.

  ODYSSEUS

  Michael Jeffrey Lee

  Back to Blandon

  I was given a very warm welcome when I returned home after my trip abroad. In fact, as my ship pulled in, a small crowd gathered right there on the dock, waving their hands and handkerchiefs, crying excitedly, and smiling in my direction.

  ODYSSEUS

  Davis Schneiderman

  The Story I Am Speaking to You Now

  These are the first words of the story I am speaking to you now: —Once, in the beginning of robots—

  OEDIPUS

  Imad Rahman

  The Brigadier-General Takes His Final Stand, by James Butt

  The Brigadier-General wears a frayed bathrobe in a mildewed, smoky nonsmoking hotel room, someplace Midwestern, perhaps Ohio, someplace cheap, perhaps Econo Lodge. To get here you drive through the series of pocketed communities that fray the outskirts of these usual someplaces, someplaces that are like industrial cities that were once more industrious cities.

  ORPHEUS AND EURYDICE

  Heidi Julavits

  DARK RESORT

  Let’s assume there’s a man on a beach because there is. Let’s assume he is a husband because he’s wearing a wedding ring. Let’s assume he’s just been married because he fiddles with this ring perpetually, and as he’s on a beach, let’s assume he’s made the terrible mistake of going on a honeymoon.

  PARADISE

  Karen Tei Yamashita

  Mystery Spot: 95065

  Santa Cruz is someone’s paradise. Funny thing for a Brazilian to say. Don’t those handsome naked bronzed people from the Southern Hemisphere live in Paradise? What about their paradise? And what about the Surfer Dude and the Lighthouse, beacons guarding our ­looking-­glass world, long ago left to us by the Hawaiian Duke Kahanamoku. Our ­looking-­glass paradise. Paradise Lost.

  PERSEPHONE

  Emma Straub and Peter Straub

  Lost Lake

  Eudora Hale spent the warm months in Fairlady with her mother, and the cold months in Lost Lake with her father. That’s how it seemed, at least. Now that she was old ­enough—­nearly ­thirteen—­Eudora knew that whatever the time of year the sun would never reach Lost Lake the way it did Fairlady. Some parts of the world were difficult to find, even for beams of light.

  PHAETON, FROM OVID’S METAMORPHOSES

  Kevin Wilson

  What Wants My Son

  I got to choose the meeting place, so I picked the mall. I tried to think of the one location my dad would most hate, and this was all I could come up with. It made me so mad, as I sat there in the food court, not eating because I wanted him to pay for it, because it hit me that the worst place actually would have been the apartment where Mom and I live.

  POSEIDON

  Laird Hunt

  Thousand

  One town got a god who carried another town inside of him which locals were sometimes allowed to enter, never to return. Another town got a god shaped like a loaded pincushion who had to be placed on a shelf out of reach of adults and ­long-­armed children because what looked like pins were not pins and what looked like cushion would bubble the skin and boil the eyes and make the bones burn.

  ­POST-­APOCALYPSE

  Manuela Draeger

  Belle-­Medusa

  The other night, someone knocked on the door.

  It was late. It was very dark and very cold. Throughout the entire evening, I had listened to the silences and the noises reverberating above the city, in the towers and the crumbling houses, in the empty streets.

 
Add Fast Bookmark
Load Fast Bookmark
Turn Navi On
Turn Navi On
Turn Navi On
Scroll Up
Turn Navi On
Scroll
Turn Navi On
183