"Wherever the Dionysian prevailed, the Apollonian was checked and destroyed.... wherever the first Dionysian onslaught was successfully withstood, the authority and majesty of the Delphic god Apollo exhibited itself as more rigid and menacing than ever."
-Nietzsche
For the sin of wearing the Coat of Christ in the presence of the Emperor, Pontius Pilate was sentenced to death. Upon hearing the news, Pilate took a knife and slew himself, rather than die the ignoble death of a villain. His body was cast into the Tiber, awakening the evil spirits who dwelt within and creating such consternation that the Romans 'drew out the body in derision' and had it sent to Vienne.
Apollo and Dionysus watched as the wooden ship eased its way up the Rhone in the dead of night. They remained motionless as the soldiers tied a millstone to Pilate's body in anticipation of a final journey to the bottom of the great river. As the soldiers relaxed with their new wine in old wine skins, a singular silence fell, revealing through the tolling of a bell that the moment was now. With the last chime dissolving into the starry heavens, the gods stirred and the great betrayer sank beneath the surface. Slowly he sank at first, yet gathering pace until, trapped by stone and black mud, all motion ceased. Almost at once the great river shuddered as the ill spirits of the water revealed themselves in waves of such ferocity that the vessel above splintered into a thousand parts.
The men aboard became absorbed by the ferment and swam for their lives, fighting the lashing rain and currents in a desperate bid to reach the safety of the shore. By dawn the twelve survivors hauled themselves up the bank and fell exhausted beside an old, shattered millstone. The body of Pilate lay just a few feet away, unmarked but broken. Silence returned. The curse was lifted, the gods had triumphed, and Vienne would now be a place of music, life, wine and intoxication.
Karura took his place at the top of the ancient theatre, sensing all too keenly the struggle to create order from chaotic fate. The terror and ecstasy of life seem to require meaning and yet in grasping some interim meaning, the terror and ecstasy are lost. Sitting here in this ancient realm of the gods, Karura determined to create himself anew. His autonomy demanded it. His life required it. Washing his hands of responsibility would not suffice.
Later he would work his way to the front of the crowd in order to be an integral part of the revelry. For now, Karura was content to allow his neighbours to smile tolerantly. His long held ambition of discussing Jean Paul Sartre in his original language was as far away now as it had been when he was a teenager. He was on safer ground discussing the music, but in his element constructing paper aeroplanes for his new young friend to throw anonymously towards the musicians far below.
Stochelo took to the stage and Apollo smiled. It was for this that he had stirred all those years ago. Karura eased his way to the font of the crowd where, wine in hand, he abandoned everything to the music of the gods. Dionysus too was pleased. Tonight meaning permeated the air, grasping at Karura's lungs with every breath he took; clinging to his body. Tonight, Karura danced with the gods.
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| Pilate's Tomb - Vienne |
The men aboard became absorbed by the ferment and swam for their lives, fighting the lashing rain and currents in a desperate bid to reach the safety of the shore. By dawn the twelve survivors hauled themselves up the bank and fell exhausted beside an old, shattered millstone. The body of Pilate lay just a few feet away, unmarked but broken. Silence returned. The curse was lifted, the gods had triumphed, and Vienne would now be a place of music, life, wine and intoxication.
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| The Roman Theatre - Vienne |
Later he would work his way to the front of the crowd in order to be an integral part of the revelry. For now, Karura was content to allow his neighbours to smile tolerantly. His long held ambition of discussing Jean Paul Sartre in his original language was as far away now as it had been when he was a teenager. He was on safer ground discussing the music, but in his element constructing paper aeroplanes for his new young friend to throw anonymously towards the musicians far below.
Stochelo took to the stage and Apollo smiled. It was for this that he had stirred all those years ago. Karura eased his way to the font of the crowd where, wine in hand, he abandoned everything to the music of the gods. Dionysus too was pleased. Tonight meaning permeated the air, grasping at Karura's lungs with every breath he took; clinging to his body. Tonight, Karura danced with the gods.
