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Doing the Laocoön with Kids in School |
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I ask them to pretend that a messenger came to warn Laocoön. When he arrived to find the sacrifice underway, he kept his mouth closed: it all turned to hash on his tongue. "You'll die, I'm afraid. Unheard. Troy collapses, blaming you. In fire." The yet-to-happen had. The nocked arrow sped, and the twang stiffened like Aegean brine. He stood there quietly and watched the snakes. |
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Well. But after all, it was destiny, there, that slithered up the strand. I tell them to think of their own messenger. Give him a home he loved, say in Phrygia, with bees and fragrant shrubs. Peril by land, sea hazard: you name it, he weathered them. It wasn't omens that silenced him, trickery by gods. Kids' games, tracks, a banker's sums: he watched the tide flip the page. |
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| Sometimes a lesson is just no good. I ask them what
they would feel as the snakes took refuge in Athena's lair, knowing how far they'd come; Priam will mourn, Troy burn, and they'll go home. Or anywhere: a moment can sink like a top into the whirl and things hum on. The crowd gaped where the three were. I want them to do more than leave and not say a word: to know, by that ruffled cove, we never arrive. |
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