Marilyn Myerson
This week we take another journey into the fanciful worlds imagined by Marilyn Myerson with a double bill of two somewhat unnatural tales. A sneak preview of each one is provided below. — Editor
I Go By Many Names
“I go by many names. I am the Boogeyman, the monster under your bed, I am the monster in your closet, the monster deep in your subconscious. You have never seen the real me: your imagination fails to capture my likeness. Still, in the marrow of your bones, you know me…you know I exist.”
Plants
“Once upon a time, the saga began, the world was unbelievably different from the one we now inhabit. In addition to we plant folks, there were sentient beings known as animals. Strange, lumbering smelly beasts, many of them. They were unable to make their own food supply – can you imagine?”
The Temple to Luna, Goddess of the Full Moon, was built in the sixth century B.C. by Emperor Augustus on the Aventine Hill, overlooking the Tiber. There were tumbled tiled floors, double curved stairs, high archways, views of the river on all sides, groves of olives and lemons. On March 31st, upon the completion, a ceremony was held. It is said that the Emperor had commanded Homer to write a hymn invoking Luna, which was to be sung by 27 girls. And the story goes that, when the hymn was sung, Luna rode across the sky in Her silver chariot drawn by two horses, one white, the other black, pulling the Full Moon.
I didn’t intend to write this story myself; I wanted you to do it. My plan for our Valentine’s Day issue was to share a song with you–a song I thought everyone knew–and ask you to tell the story behind its ambiguous lyrics. Like “American Pie” but on a much smaller scale. I hoped to publish at least two stories. One small problem emerged, though. Nobody I talked to had heard of the song. Nobody. Which led me to suspect I’d get very few responses to my challenge.
We like to end each year with an issue in which we look back at the stories, poems, articles, memoirs, and–well, whatever–that we’ve published during the past 51 weeks. And we have a staggering variety this time around.
We all know about Thor, the Norse God of Thunder. Big guy. Very strong. Ruggedly handsome. More than a little vain. Not always the sharpest knife in the drawer. But good hearted. We also know that he wields a powerful hammer called Mjollnir. But few know how he acquired Mjollnir nor what Loki, God of Mischief, had to do with its coming into his hands.