In honor of the XXII Olympic Winter Games, this post will be devoted to the history and symbolism involved in the Sochi Games. So, enough claptrap about ghosts for now. Let's talk Olympics...
Although the exact date of their inception is unknown, it is widely believed that the Olympic Games began in 776 B.C. It may have been earlier, but that is when the records begin. Upon completion of his twelve labors (or so the story goes), Hercules founded the Games. The Games were originally held in Olympia, Greece, at the sanctuary of Zeus. Hercules was the half-human child of Zeus, the father god. He was also the god of sky and thunder. Zeus, not known for his fidelity, had an eye for his great-granddaughter, Alcmene. The beautiful Alcmene, unlike Zeus, was a model of fidelity. However, tricky Zeus impregnated Alcmene by coming to her disguised as her husband, Amphitryon, who had foolishly left her alone while he was away at war *.
In theory, all hostilities between warring city-states were supposed to cease during the Games. However, the ancient Greeks, just like their modern counterparts, did little more than give a nod to this ideal. One aspect of the treaty that was upheld was the right of safe passage for travellers. These pilgrims, making their way to the competitions, were believed to be protected by Zeus. Therefore, their persons were held inviolate as they passed through hostile lands.
According to legend, it was Prometheus who formed mankind from a block of clay. Later, his sympathy for the suffering of humankind led him to risk eternal damnation by stealing fire from the gods. In the theater of the Caucasus, Zeus chained Prometheus to the rocky crags of Fisht Mountain. Each day, a mighty eagle, the emblem of Zeus, tore out and ate the liver of Prometheus. At night, the eagle, known as Suna, would retire to his giant nest as the liver of Prometheus regenerated by the light of the moon*. The dawn would greet Prometheus, newly made whole, so that he might endure being torn apart once again. Aeons turned before Suna was killed and Prometheus was freed by Hercules.
This year, the stars aligned for the XXII Olympic Winter Games to be held in Sochi, Russia. And how fitting that the flame should burn so bright in that setting. Millenia ago, Alexander the Great travelled those same lands. Sochi is a winter resort town snuggled against the foot of the Caucasus Mountains. In that place, trees grow to be thousands of years old. And new life was breathed into ancient creation myths.
No one wins easy in a place so rich in beauty and ancient mysteries. The ice was mean. And the snow turned to slush rather than be molded into a usable half-pipe. Sochi birthed monumental performances and spectacular falls. The brilliant sunsnow of Rosa Khutor did not carry the competitors. They had to fight for every inch. In that place, glory had to be earned. It proved my theory that every ounce of excellence comes with an equal measure of b.s.
As the competitors converged on the banks of the Black Sea, the Year of the Horse lost no time making its entrance. In the opening ceremonies, we were off to the races. A troika of three lighted horses pulled a great ring of fire across the arena. It was meant to signify the end of winter. I hoped it meant the end of the stagnation we all endured during the Year of the Snake. Anyway, it was appropriate for the Year of the Horse. Horses like to make an entrance. They are big, bold, and beautiful.
Inside Fisht Olympic Stadium, the opening cremonies were a whimsical re-telling of times gone by interspersed with the avant garde finery of the modern age. But, there was a glitch. Five snowflakes were supposed to open into five interconnected rings, but the final one failed to open. Welcome to the Year of the Horse. Things may move fast, but we should definitely expect the unexpected. To attain perfection maybe there should always be one small imperfection. I don't know, but this one caught the world's attention. It spoke volumes.
The commentators dismissed it as "just one of those things that happens." But I didn't buy it. This glitch had symbolic import. Maybe that is why it stuck in the craw of the commentators. I heard it mentioned several times. What did it mean? Maybe nothing, maybe something. Given the events that have taken place on the world stage during the course of the Games, it does seem to be a bit of an omen.
It bothered me. Immediately, I knew how I would interpret the same spread if I saw it drawn from a deck of cards. Circles are representative of the Sun. Great achievements, cooperation, and blessings all flow from circles. But four circles and a star? And a red star at that. Red is strongly associated with fire, aggression, and lust for power.
If it was a person sitting before me, this is what I would say: There is trouble brewing beneath the surface. Something important is being withheld. Has money gone missing? Hold on to your hat because an unpleasant change is coming. Unity will most likely be sacrificed for personal gain. It just goes to show that no matter how tightly you hold the cards to your chest, something can slip out.
For all their fierce intensity and stylish execution, the Sochi Olympics seemed to suffer from a bad case of circlephobia. The most obvious example would have to be the snowflake glitch in the opening ceremonies. But what about the medals? The medals were beautifully rendered objets d' art. They were also anything but traditional. According to the official website*, "The sun's golden rays deflected (sic) through a prism of snowy mountain tops and the warm sea and frosty ice living side-by-side are embodied in the medals." Stylish? Yes. Sexy? Yes. But circles? Definitely not.
If I had been awarded one, I would be like: Wow! This is beautiful, but where is the rest? Beautiful pieces of cut glass do not fetch the same price as gold (or silver or bronze). Most Olympians are probably not worried about what their local hock shop will give them for their medals, but it's the principle of the thing. The medals were half-moons of diamond shaped glass contained within spheres of precious metals. But they were not spheres complete unto themselves. Personally, I think someone saved a buttload of money on the cost of their precious metals.
In addition, the host country always offers a symbolic dove of peace during the Opening Ceremonies. Or, in this case, a shuttlecock. Maybe it was a jellyfish. Honestly, I couldn't tell. Don't get me wrong, the presentation was beautiful, but the lampshades with their dangly cords did not read as doves to me. Perhaps I'm just nitpicking, but the dove of peace is important. It hearkens back to the origin of the Games and the idea that the (Greek) world should take a break from war and come together in the spirit of peace and honest competition. Oh well, it didn't work then and we still can't get our collective minds around this idea. However, if you're going to honor the tradition, then it's important to not take so much artistic license that the intended meaning is lost.
I have an idea. Why not just release some doves into the stadium? I guarantee it would be cheaper than creating dancing jellyfish. So what if someone gets pooped on? It's good luck. And we could all stand to stop taking ourselves so damn seriously. I think anyone who got pooped on by a dove of peace should get an honorary free pass to the events. Or maybe get their rooms comped. Now that would be some good fortune!
*wikipedia.org
*The liver is the only major human organ which has the capacity to significantly regenerate itself.
*Sochi2014.com
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