I find that the hardest thing about living for millenia, as I have, is that each generation tends to forget what happened to the one before it. Each new crop of young adults feels like they are the first one ever to feel the angst of a lost love, to feel the regret of a damaged friendship, to feel the outrage of betrayal. Little do they realize that their parents, and their parents before them, and their parents before them have all gone through the same thing.
Perhaps the reason for this is that we tend to forget our common history. Or maybe it's that we have a tendency to rewrite history. The players and history-makers of the past fade into caricatures of what they were, becoming clear cut heroes and villains rather then real people with vices and virtues both.
A case in point: Cupid.
Now, in today's world, everyone thinks Cupid was this cute little baby with tiny wings that ran around shooting people with heart shaped arrows to induce romantic love. Nothing could be further from the truth! Cupid was a full grown male god who had a, shall we say, lust for life, if you'll pardon the pun. You see, I had the fortune of meeting him myself when I spent a summer in Greece studying lunar enchantments with Hekate, and I can tell you, that boy was a rake!
The first time I saw Cupid, he was dressed in a deep blue tunic that was several sizes too small, showing off a great deal of his shapely thighs and the barest hint of his rounded bottom. He was a very handsome young man who obviously knew he was gorgeous and flaunted it.
I happened to be on my way to the baths when a blue blur crashed into me, knocking me to the floor. As I disentangled myself from the knot of limbs I was trapped in, I heard a boyish voice say, "My deepest apologies, Master," for that was my title back in those days, "I did not see you there."
As I climbed back to my feet, my eyes met the eyes of the most beautiful young man I had ever seen. His eyes were a light grey and the skin of his arms and legs, which I could see quit clearly, was tanned and smooth. His dirty blond hair was a bit long, falling to his shoulders, his bangs covering one eye as he stared back at me. And what can I say about his lips? They were pouty and ripe, almost as if he were waiting to be kissed.
"That is all right, young man," I responded with a huge smile. "No harm done," I chuckled as I rubbed my right elbow. To this day, I could have sworn I had shattered that damn thing, the pain was so intense.
Well, needless to say, after introductions were made, we made our way to the baths, as that was his destination as well, and during our time together there, we became fast friends. One thing led to another, and the next thing I knew, I was in the middle of an erotic affair.
Now, I am not one to kiss and tell, but let me just say that when I tell you he stabbed me repeatedly with his long arrow and its heart shaped tip, I'm not referring to the ones in his quiver, if you know what I mean.
Our sordid affair ended finally when Aphrodite sent him on a mission to punish a luckless woman named Psyche, some poor girl who had angered the Goddess of Love. I swear, that selfish cow totally ruined the romantic evening we had planned with her "revenge shall be mine" issues. Far be it for her to think about other people once in a while. It was always me, me, me with that one.
Bitch.
And you may not be aware, but back then, quality lubrication oils didn't have a long shelf life. I knew immediately that everything would have to be scrapped, which was a pity in that I had prepared a sensuous meal and arranged for music. Orpheus himself had agreed to create a romantic mood for us with his legendary lyre, provided he got to stick around and watch Cupid and me in our lovemaking, the old lecher. Well, I figured that my plans would just be postponed for a bit and that everything could easily be arranged for another night,
Well, that night never came. You see, Cupid, rather than following Aphrodite's twisted plan, fell in love with the young heifer Psyche and forgot about me completely. Feckless youth. And worst of all, I heard through the grape vine that he was pleasuring Psyche with some of the techniques I had taught him.
Meh.
Well no matter. It's water under the bridge.
I suppose in the long run everything worked out for the best. I was able to concentrate once again on my study of magic, Cupid eventually married the bitc...er, I mean young woman, and everyone lived happily ever after.
Well, at least I did.
Psyche eventually faded away as most of the elder gods did over time, not that I was sorry to see her go. And Cupid? Well, you remember that silly baby myth which gets told every year? There is actually enough belief behind it to have kept him alive down through the centuries. The last I saw of him, he was modeling, ironically enough, in an underwear shoot for Valentine's Day undies. He was even holding a little heart shaped lollipop! Now how delicious is that?
No. I'm serious. He is still quite delicious.
An excerpt from The Memoirs of Dr Mandragora: From the Maudlin to the Macabre
by Dr Mandragora
