Love by any other name.

For some reason lately the concept of love and it's many variations has been flittering through my mind. Perhaps it's because I have that unfinished story about the gods of love sitting in my computer waiting for me to figure out how I'm pulling it all together at the end.

In doing the research for that story I learned something interesting about the Greek concepts of love. The language and the Pantheon of Greek gods showed that the Greeks recognized distinct differences in the type of love. They had different words for what we simply call love and different gods and goddesses to cover them.

We all know of Aphrodite who was the goddess of love and beauty. But the "minor" gods and the Greek language are far more interesting. Lust was governed by the very minor god Priapus. The Greeks did not revere this god greatly nor the type of "love" he ruled. The son of Aphrodite (daddy's identity ranges from Hermes to Pan to Dionysus and beyond), Priapus was the god of lust. He was taken far more seriously by the Romans and was believed to punish thieves. He is often depicted with a very large…well, not just large but grotesquely large male member.

The word eros in Greek meant passion and physical love. This is also the realm of the god Eros (Cupid). His golden tipped arrows created an obsessive physical attraction that could border on madness. His lead tipped arrows created not hate, but indifference. The son of Aphrodite and Ares, Eros was known for using his powers and his bow for revenge and his own amusement more than for the good of mankind.

Eros was a twin. His brother Anteros was the exact opposite. Anteros was the god of reasoned and returning love. His love was the mature and caring love that begins and ends in friendship, caring and compassion. Anteros was the god of agape love. Christianity has changed the meaning of this word to denote more of a love of God for mankind, but at it’s essence is the idea of a love that is fixed, constant and transcends the concerns of the physical nature.

As I said, I have a Work in Progress (WIP) that deals with the gods of love.

Excerpt:

“Please tell me you are Psyche,” said the low, pleasant voice. She turned and her eyes widened as she saw the man who stood there. The face of her Beloved was burned in her memory and this man looked enough like him to make her gasp. He leaned against the wall of a nearby structure and smiled at her. “A frightened young, pregnant woman looking confused and seemingly carrying all that she owns. Traveling in the company of two slaves, one big and brawny and one a mere boy? Looks like I’ve found you.” His shoulders were broad and his skin a deep golden color. His eyes were the color of raw honey and his smile inviting and sent a shiver up her spine. He was tall and his dark brown hair hung loosely around his face. Though the night was cold he wore only the Roman tunic that accentuated his well formed chest, the belt gathering the garment over narrow hips before it cut mid thigh. And they were marvelous thighs. Legs faintly sprinkled with fine dark hairs; powerful and strong legs that would drape themselves over a woman in the night and hold her tight to him as she slept.

Psyche reached out for Nelek’s hand and found it was trembling. He saw it too. Yuli was so frightened that he’d forgotten all about slaves and free women and had grabbed Psyche’s waist and buried his face in her cloak.

This man before them was no man. A light lit the golden eyes and spoke of power and greatness far beyond the mortal man. His light was maybe not so bright or impressive as her Beloved’s but that he was immortal was beyond doubt. His eyes held hers for a moment and a playful grin spread wider on his face. His eyes flared amber flames and she had the distinct impression of wings spread from his shoulders, black wings.

“Don’t be afraid,” he seemed to shrink instantly and the power that had terrified her pulled back inside the physical form. “You have a paper to show me, I believe?”

Psyche reached into the folds of her robes and pulled out the folded parchment. The man-god reached for it and took it from her, his hands large and narrow, long delicate fingers. He didn’t even glance at it, only held it a moment and then it was gone.

He looked at her and his smile softened. “I am Anteros.” At her blank look he shook his head and frowned. “Why is it everyone knows Eros, everyone knows that walking erection Priapus but no one knows Anteros.” When she could only shake her head and try to stammer that she was sorry, he held up his hand. “Don’t. I’ll tell you why no one knows who I am, it’s because mortals are selfish where love is concerned. Hell, the gods are selfish. Everyone thinks love just “happens,” that it is there and it will last forever because it is love. They walk around saying “love me, love me” but never think about the fact that love only prospers when it is returned. Eros himself, it is said, would not grow until after I was born to be his playmate. And I can tell you he was a puny little thing when we were young,” he winked at her conspiratorially. “Well, I, my little lady am Anteros, god of returning or opposite love. Not the opposite of love, but mature reflective love. What the Greeks call agape.”

Be sure to run over and check out Anny Cook, Amarinda Jones and Sandra Cox. They always have something interesting to say.

Defending The Honor of The Average Male

First the contest plug, then the rant...


Eternally Yours Contest

What could you spend an eternity doing? What is your passion? Your hunger? Your deepest desire?





Each day beginning February 5 and running through February 14 one of the ten authors will complete the line, "My darling I could spend eternity…" on either their blog or website. Collect all ten answers and e-mail them to anny@annycook.com with Eternally Yours in the subject line to win some hot, romantic books. There will be three lucky Valentine winners.

The prizes –
1st prize--5 books
2nd prize--3 books
3rd prize--2 books

Entries must be in by February 16 at midnight EST. All books and prize winners will be drawn randomly.

Sandra Cox Silverhills
Mona Risk To Love a Hero
Brynn Paulin Tribute For the Goddess
Bronwyn Green Mystic Circle
Cindy Spencer Pape Stone and Earth
N.J. Walters Seduction of Shamus O’Rourke
Elyssa Edwards Mating Stone
Amarinda Jones Shades of Gray
Kelly Kirch Time for Love
Anny Cook Honeysuckle

Also note that some of these authors will be participating in a lovely chat at Love Romances Cafe from 1pm to 8pm on February 4th to kick off the contest. If you haven't already joined, what are you waiting for? Trust me, you don't want to miss this contest.

Now the Ranting shall begin.

I find myself flabbergasted, disappointed and angry on behalf of the men in my life. While recently reading an erotic romance I ran across the following line:

“To men, physical love and emotional love are one and the same.”

This was the advice of a mother to a daughter when her daughter expressed her concerns that her mate/husband had not told her he loved her and spoke of love only as an action verb. I had a visceral reaction to this comment.

I don’t say this to brag or to seem like an expert, but I’m usually spot on about guys. They seem so simple to me —not intellectually but in terms of understanding what they are thinking and saying. I have a coworker who literally runs her dates past me for approval. A friend of mine commented, after reading my novels, that my male characters are among the most realistic he’s seen and that he could identify with them even if it was a romance novel and not his usual fare. It seems I only fail in his esteem when it comes to relating the man’s thoughts during sex, which my friend says are generally very basic and not very romantic. I must admit this flaw is intentional, I'm writing for women readers as a rule.

Perhaps the writer meant that men express emotional love physically. They do. Men are very driven by the physical. Absolutely. And as women are no longer taught to fear and feel shame over their own sexuality, needs and desires, we are also becoming more rooted in the physical. Look at the skyrocketing rise of erotic romance. Such things were beyond comprehension fifty years ago. Men might sneak naughty magazines but women? Never. Look at the number of women who are openly engaged in extramarital sex, premarital sex or “no way in hell I’m marrying this dude, but let’s have some fun” sex.

Back to my point. Men are physical, and we as women understand that a great deal of how they express what they feel is done physically. Often the time men best know how to and feel comfortable expressing their love and affection for their partner is during sex or sex play. This does not mean that men don’t know the difference between physical lovemaking and emotional love. It does not mean that they are one in the same. To claim such cheapens all male/female, and especially male/male, relationships. It is this attitude that perpetuates the idea that gay male relationships are merely about the physical act of love, making it easy to marginalize their relationships and make their needs and feelings base, crude and unimportant.

It is insulting. It is insulting to men and to those who love them to say that the men’s emotional loving is the same as the physical. Can you honestly say you don’t know a man who doesn’t know the difference between a hard on and love? Look at the clichéd excuse for infidelity, “Honey, it didn’t mean anything. It was just sex.” Men understand the difference. They feel the difference. To claim otherwise demeans them.

It demeans the men like my dad who spent twenty-five years at the side of his wife. Raised to be a “man” he doesn’t show affection where anyone else can see. But when she died from heart disease as he knelt by her bedside, the tears falling from his eyes don’t come because he is sorry he will miss her in his bed, but because his heart is breaking.