Pythagoras the Mathemagician Read online

  Pythagoras

  the Mathemagician

  Pythagoras the Mathemagician

  Copyright © 2010, by Karim El Koussa.

  Cover Copyright © 2010 Sunbury Press. Front cover image by Alecia Nye.

  NOTE: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever. For information contact Sunbury Press, Inc., Subsidiary Rights Dept., 2200 Market St., Camp Hill, PA 17011 USA or [email protected].

  For information about special discounts for bulk purchases, please contact Sunbury Press, Inc. Wholesale Dept. at (717) 254-7274 or [email protected].

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  FIRST SUNBURY PRESS EDITION

  Printed in the United States of America

  October 2010

  ISBN 978-1-934597-16-3

  Published by:

  Sunbury Press

  Camp Hill, PA

  www.sunburypress.com

  Acknowledgments

  Many have contributed their efforts to this historical novel. It is indeed my honor to acknowledge Mr. Jamil Ghaleb, an artist, painter and musician, for reading this novel and presenting me with his honest and truthful comments; Dr. Sami Makarem, Ph.D in Philosophy, and Professor of Arabic Literature at the American University of Beirut, for his valuable advice on the contents.

  And last but not least, I should also express my appreciation to Editor Claudys Claude Kantara for her excellent comprehensive editing and literary input. Great thanks to Ms. Wasilia Yapur for revising the text in its English form and commenting on it.

  A loving thanks to my friends: Elena Ramia, Fouad El-Hajj, Nouha Yammine, Corine Jabbour, Charles Frangie, and Vera Abu-Mehrez, for their individual support and care.

  I am also grateful to Mr. Lawrence Von Knorr, the Publisher who had given me a great opportunity to publish my novel in the USA. Special thanks also go to the staff at Sunbury Press.

  Karim El-Koussa

  Ehden, August 1, 2010

  “A thought is an idea in transit”

  Pythagoras

  c 570 BC – c 495 BC

  Preface

  Back in the old times, in the faraway distant past, from the shadows of days and nights, Humanity emerged by a strange deed of the scheme of life to evolve into tribal and restricted social structures. These small, incomplete societies developed later on into great civilizations; some of which prospered into nations that rose like the glorious Sun from the East.

  Egypt, the mysterious Land of Ham, with all its magnificent pyramids and temples, formed a main part of this Ancient World, along with the remote Mesopotamia, also called the Land of the Winged Gods, and the mystical India or what was known as the Land of the Yogi-Magus. Not too far away, an equally great and ancient civilization, evolved to mark the history of mankind and change it forever – it was the Phoenician nation.

  A nation of love, peace, and harmony, this great civilization harbored neighbors and foreigners besides the original inhabitants of the Land of Canaan. They all cohabited in an authentic spirit of fraternity.

  Originally widespread, the Phoenician Land stretched out from the ancient city of Ugarit, in the North, to El Arish of Egypt, in the South. Whereas to the East stood majestic mountains and vast plains overlooking, to the West, the Great Mediterranean Sea.

  One of the most attractive places in the ancient world, the Phoenician land welcomed people from different cultural, religious and social backgrounds. The land bloomed with this amalgam of variety that cohabited peacefully, forming a cohesive human bouquet.

  This ideal society did not last however, as ambition and greed forcefully led tribes and nations to the Land. In the 14th century BCE, Indo-European tribes, such as the Hittites, invaded the Phoenician nation, as did the People of the Sea around 1200 BCE. Semitic tribes, like the Assyrians, brought on their shares of violence as well around 700 and 600 BCE.

  Cruel nations lurked like voracious vultures in wait of the death of their prey; a prey that bled profusely; a sacrifice offered to the gods for mankind… and the agonizing nation wondered in crucial pain: what kind of gods would allow such agony; such satanic killing and barbaric destruction.

  Invasions and wars eroded the Land, reducing its size dramatically to extend then from the South to Mt. Carmel and from the East to the Mountains of Loubnan (Lebanon) and the plains of Galilee. Ugarit, in the North, remained an essential part of the Land, whereas the Mediterranean Sea, in the West, became just a Phoenician lake.

  Yet, the Land would not die, nor would the soul of the Phoenicians. These fierce survivors prevailed, faithful to their God, the Most High Al-ELYON, and to the mission of love and peace He had inculcated in their minds from their earliest beginnings, and down through their social and religious development. In fact, on the walls of their temples, the doctrine shone in everlasting wordings, instructing them to plant Love and Peace all over the face of the Earth. That was the bona fide mission that kept their spirit alive.

  As a matter of fact, the Phoenician Society was a social order whose members practiced what they preached. They lived lives of justice and freedom and conveyed knowledge and wisdom to others. The Society truly longed for Immortality.

  And so, in order to keep the legacy of this outstanding nation well alive and immortal, a Phoenician genius appeared in the course of history to change it forever. His teachings in philosophy and his religious doctrine came about to shape western philosophical thought and all world religions.

  Without him, where would the great Greek philosophers Socrates, Plato, and Aristotle be?

  His name was Pythagoras and his ministry spotlighted mathematics and magic. He was Pythagoras the Mathemagician.

  And the descendents of this exceptional Phoenician nation are the Lebanese of today.

  PART I

  .1.

  The Mediterranean World

  The chronology of Time marked the years around 575-570 BCE on the Mediterranean coast. Flat stones, perfectly aligned in a structural design, paved the long pier of one of the most important and earliest harbors in the world; Saydoun (Sidon). This Phoenician city reached its peak around the 12th and 10th century BCE, playing a spiritual, scientific and economic key role in the Mediterranean culture. Such major impact has prevailed through times until the present date.

  Tradition conveyed that the name of that coastal city related to Saydoun, the elder son of Canaan; father of the Phoenician race. A powerful figure of his time and a charismatic leader with a magnificent vision, Saydoun had built the city in his name, nearly three thousand years BCE.

  This port city carried its name that correlated to the act of fishing, as well; having been one of the most vital food sources for the inhabitants of that area. In fact, the majority of the Saydonians had acquired a solid reputation as successful fishermen, whereas the minority in the city was regarded as great fishers of men.

  On the long dock, stood the lovely Parthenis, her eyes to the horizon reflecting on the past. The orange–red globe of the Sun, shrouded by thin layers of clouds, blended with the Phoenician waters. A flock of sea gulls flew by and their shadows drew swift forms on the beach. The palm trees swayed softly: silent witnesses to the confident departure of the majestic Phoenician vessels. Heading in all directions, they exported wisdom and knowledge, along with their national products of purple linen c
lothes, metalwork, wine, salt, perfume, cereal, and glazed faience. The traders exported to the world the most refined jugs of glass and clay, as well as engraved vases and exquisite jewelry that Saydoun manufactured on a grand scale. The world ahead would also be expecting their raw materials of pine and cedar wood considered by Europe, Africa and the Americas to be of great value.

  On their way back, the traders would import gold, iron and lead from the western coast of the Black Sea; copper from Cyprus; precious stones from India and the Far East; ivory from Africa; papyrus from Egypt, silver from Spain; and lead and tin from the land of the Britons. They would also bring in, among other products, precious ebony, silk, horses, spices, amber and incense.

  The Mediterranean Sea, once described as the Phoenician waters, was like a beehive where ships sailed in and out in an eventful yet systematic rhythm. Within all that apparent chaos, there was a certain hidden order that confused Lady Parthenis at the harbor. Her big brown eyes reflected admiration towards the harmonious maneuvering of the sailors taming the great crashing waves; the sound of which reached her like a musical hum. Sweet yet strong, the scent of the salty water filled her with a strange, stimulating sensation.

  A soft breeze wafted her flax blue tunic and the pink veil around her head shaped the curves of her face whose softness mirrored her mid-twenties. Her elegant hand touched the sapphire necklace around her fine neck, nervously, as she sighed deeply for patience. Her husband was scheduled to arrive today from Greece, and his two-week long trip had felt like an eternity to her. A Surian (Tyrian) merchant, her husband Mnesarchus[1] constantly sailed the Mediterranean Sea aboard his ship; Astarte, the Lady of the Sea, represented by an impressive statue of a siren at the front.

  And here it was, emerging proud and confident among the other boats. Parthenis smiled in relief, then with pride. Splendid, the Lady of the Sea revealed, gradually, its upper human figure. As the Astarte navigated closer and closer, the lower fish form of the statue came to sight. The vessel finally docked at the pier to release, and moments later, dozens of voyagers disembarked on the already busy port. Parthenis watched them with interest as they stepped out hastily. She could detect the artists among the merchants from their colorful attire. Their cheerful expressions denoted their relief at reaching their destination safely. These travelers belonged to different Mediterranean countries, and, as she always did when in the port, she examined them with pleasant curiosity.

  Soon, she grew impatient at not seeing her husband. She stretched her neck, her eyes searching, and then she smiled widely at the man rushing to her. She admired his long, curly mane and his tanned, bearded face that gave him the look of a man in his early forties. His bluish-purple tunic, wrapped by a brown leather belt at the waist, shaped his stout shoulders. His patent force and enthusiastic appearance overwhelmed her with a feeling of expectation. Edging nearer, he went down on his knees and kissed the ground of his homeland. His eyes brightened warmly at her advanced pregnancy, lifted up to hers in love and then back to the round form of the new life her insides nurtured. His hand reached to it. He touched her, ever so softly, ever so tenderly, confusing her by such an unusual public display of emotion.

  “I can feel him moving,” he finally blurted out overwhelmed. “Our baby boy… moving in a harmonious rhythm inside you, my dear. How beautiful!”

  She blushed and gave him a timid smile. Her hand joined his on her belly. With her other hand, she caressed his thick wavy hair.

  “A boy? What makes you believe that, dear?” Her soft question teased him.

  His smile broadened with a steady confidence that expressed his male satisfaction. He leaped to his feet, grabbed both her hands in his and said, “Beloved Parthenis, I carry with me great news! I will tell you it all on our way home.”

  He led her through the crowded port and, once on the quieter boulevard, he brought her, by the shoulders, closer to his side to continue walking at a calmer pace. Dusk was falling peacefully on them.

  “I met a friend of mine, a Greek merchant, upon my arrival in Athens,” Mnesarchus said, finally. “I told him about your pregnancy and he was truly delighted by the good news. He advised me to consult the oracle of the Temple of Apollo in Delphi; one of the most famous Temples in all of Greece. Well, dear, I did! And the priestess told me that we will have a son!” Mnesarchus announced with a cheerful tone of pride.

  “Oh dear!” Parthenis exclaimed with a frown of disapproval.

  A firm believer in the Phoenician God AL, she doubted that followers of gods, other than hers, could possibly predict the unknown. This information could very well be just a deception. Anxiety and curiosity left her mystified.

  She probed for more, “Mnesarchus, my love, I want you to be honest with me. Your words left me wondering. Please tell me! Do you really believe in the prediction of that priestess? I mean… how is it possible, really, that she could discern the unknown? You are very well aware that her religious beliefs are different from ours!”

  “Oh Parthenis, I’m telling you what she told me! I believe in what I heard. You should have seen that priestess. It seemed to me… hmmm, how should I put it? It really seemed to me as if she moved through a great mist far, far away beyond this world as if she was communicating with something invisible… an invisible power! You should accompany me on my next trip, and see for yourself. That, of course, if you wish.” He looked at her inquiringly.

  She stopped and gazed pensively at the sea sending its soft waves along the beach.

  “Where about is Greece?” She asked, suddenly excited at the prospect of a trip with her husband to that exotic land she had heard so much about.

  Delighted, Mnesarchus turned to point towards the northwest. Standing there for a while, the couple held hands. Parthenis rested her head on his shoulder, closed her eyes, and took a deep, long breath.

  * * *

  The couple reached the paved alley leading to the souk. Palm trees, on both sides, made their promenade more enchanting, as did the soft light of the oil lamps that hung on the road’s pillars. The night had fallen by then; yet the shops, productive still, conducted their business with the same dexterity. Some merchants engaged in stocking their newly imported merchandise under the curious eyes of eager buyers.

  Most imported metals would reach the factories, directly at the outskirts of the souk, and even farther away to the legendary industrial unit of Sarepta (Sarafand). Located fifteen kilometers south of the city, the factory and its skillful artisans continuously produced fine chiseled works of art.

  Saydoun had gained a vast reputation for its social and medical services, some well advanced, like dental treatments. Phoenician doctors in the city had come up with an ingenious concept of twisting pure gold wire around loose teeth to hold them firmly in place. Spirituality assumed a role in the medical field as well. The Saydonians took pride in their curative god Eshmun; known as the god of medicine. Originally an ordinary man, Eshmun had turned into a god because of his power to heal through the gifts of nature.

  Both, natives and foreigners enjoyed the vivacious city. It seemed as if life pumped vigorously in the hearts of the people, in the fauna and flora, inside the houses and on the streets. Life vibrated energetically everywhere!

  Music drifted from the right corner of the plaza. There, an aged musician sat on a flat stone, playing his lyre with a young flutist standing at his side. Charmed, people gathered around them. Some sat right there on the floor. Others stopped to listen. Enchanted smiles expressed the mood that the musicians contributed to create for the pleasure of the citizens and visitors. The breeze of the night wafted around the delicious smell of food, tempting many towards the nearby tavern. In fact, Phoenician cuisine was favorably reputed all over the Mediterranean.

  “Don’t even think about it! I have prepared a special dinner for you at home!” Parthenis teased her husband, whose eyes had widened at sight of the restaurant.

  He laughed out loud then brought her hand to his mouth for a resounding kiss that
made her blush with pleasure. “Let’s go home then,” he proposed with enthusiasm and turned her around towards the exit of the souk.

  She giggled as she tried to match his fast steps. She then slowed down gradually, her eyes caught by the magnificent sight of a colorful array of flowers.

  “Mnesarchus!” She called him back and stopped in total admiration at the display of the florist and the captivating aroma that drifted from that diverse arrangement. A particular flower took her breath away.

  She heard her husband whispering tenderly in her ears, “The white rose of course.”

  She nodded with a grin and watched as Mnesarchus dropped a coin in the hand of the florist, drew out the rose and offered it to her. She gazed at it for a while, lifted her loving eyes to him in thanks then kissed him softly on the cheek.

  His eyes warmed in hers then, speechless, he grabbed her arm to walk towards the residential area. They made their way, uneventfully, through the houses of limestone, all similarly shaped, in both rectangular and cubical forms, with open windows on the sides.

  Upon spotting her home, quite different from the general lots, she smiled with tender pride at her husband’s achievement. Different from that of his neighbors, he had constructed his house with stone and roofed it with Cedar wood. He had made it a point to expand his backyard with a bountiful garden. While most people could not afford to have their houses built in the same way, Mnesarchus had dedicated all his efforts and smart trading to afford his growing family a trouble-free life.

  As soon as they were home, she marched decisively to the wooden pillar in the middle of the house and lit the oil lamp, there steadily suspended. She turned a discreet look at her husband dropping at once on the couch. She refrained from commenting on his weariness, cautious not to hurt his male pride. She instead rushed to set the dinner that she had previously prepared in anticipation of his homecoming. In fact, she had most of it primed and ready to serve the husband she loved so dearly. She warmed the stew of meat and vegetables and a delicious aroma rose at once. Freshly picked for the meal, the vegetables and fruits she set on the table appealed at once to her husband’s senses who leaped to his feet the moment she turned to him an inviting smile. They settled at the wooden table, elegantly wrought by a Saydonian carpenter. From the window, draped with an elegant purple curtain, the moon appeared to smile at the peaceful reunion of the couple.