Andrew,
I have written three short stories/poems in different styles covering the life of our esteemed king with the golden touch. They follow below, along with hard copy in the post – should be with you tomorrow. I’ve tried to reflect as many aspects of his myth as I can – hence references to roses, greed and honour.
Hope you like them, in any case would appreciate your thoughts.
C
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A Boy Of Golden Ambition
The young boy who was yet to discover his destiny as king was laughing.
Midas, in Greece – a country far, far away played in his rose garden.
His friend Dyonisus had treasured Midas because of the way Midas treated Dyonisus. An exceptional boy was Midas – generous of spirit and kind in heart. Yet a young man with little to celebrate.
And much to learn.
Much to learn about the value of things.
The kindness of Midas to Dyonisus one night as Dyonisus fell ill was somthing Dyonisus never failed to remember.
And so in later times granted to Midas one wish. Midas’s strongest wish.
His answer ?
MIDAS: That everything I touch should turn into gold !
DYONISUS: Gold ? Gold ? GOLD ?? Of what value lies in gold?
MIDAS: Its beauty, Dyonisus. Its ability to charm, to turn a head, to unsettle one’s stomach with its preciousness. Gold carries with it a label of love of all that is treasured… And now I feel hungry….
DYONISUS: But the label of love came with the kindness you showed be when I was ill, you took me into your home, you fed me and watered me in the way my gardener tends to my roses. That is kindness. You sound greedy. One does not need gold. You yourself have shown me that.
NARRATOR: And later, in that rose garden Dyonissus thought, with his head in his hands.
DYONISUS: He wants gold. And the power to turn other treasures into it…
MIDAS: Mmmmm… Dyonisus, these apples are delicious…
DYONISUS: Very well. You saved me in my hour of discomfort, you tended my way back to good health and of wellbeing. Midas, I do not like what you have asked for. Gold shimmers and glistens, but the reflection you see in it is yours. Can you see that?
MIDAS: Yes. And I want to see more of it. My reflection in the glistening shimmer of gold is exactly what I wish to see.
DYONISUS: Very well. Midas, take my hand. I give you the power you seek. Everything you touch, from here on, will turn to purest gold.
NARRATOR: Dyonisus knelt and his mood changed.
DYONISUS: May it bring you happiness. I fear this power will not. You will be King one day.
MIDAS: Thank you ! But you speak nonsense ! I value your thoughts and will treasure your concern. But, gold ! With gold, you’re indestructible! Always believe it !
NARRATOR: Midas picked up his walking stick and as he did so, there was a puff of purple smoke! The walking stick from being a length of chopping wood, became a staff of warm and shimmering gold.
MIDAS: You see? Wonderful…
NARRATOR: And he walked away from his friend, Dyonisus. But was soon to learn that gold is really just a colour. And that wanting all to be gold is another way to say he was greedy…
Gold is valuable, gold is pretty and gold feels and is beautiful.
But what if everything you touched turned to gold…?
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THE MIDAS TOUCH
NARRATOR: Midas of Ancient Greece was now a man. And a King. And all that he touched had turned to gold, exactly as he had wished, years ago.
He went to visit his old friend King Dyonisus with a question.
MIDAS: King Dyonisus, What is precious?DYONISUS: What is precious, you ask?MIDAS: Yes. It seems to me a simple question.
DYONISUS: (Chuckles) Oh, and it is… ! And yet it isn’t.
MIDAS: It isn’t? Why not?
DYONISIUS: Well……. ‘Precious‘ you can say could mean many things. Let me ask you this. What do you hold dear? What feels most important to you ?
MIDAS: The things I feel important I can count on the fingers of one hand. Though I dare only touch my hand – no-one else’s. I have the Midas touch – everything I passover with my hand turns into beatuiful gold.
DYONISUS : There are many precious things in life. But let’s try to count. Shall we count them together?
MIDAS: Yes – if you’d like me to, I shall try with you.
NARRATOR: The two friends sat and thought long and hard about what was precious to King Midas. Dyonisus wanted to hand is friend an apple – but realised there is no use in a golden fruit; it may look delicious but you can’t eat it. He threw it to Midas instead.
MIDAS: One – my family. I believe that to be precious. I love them. My sister, my brother, my father, my mother…
DYONISUS: Good, good….. And next ?
MIDAS: Two – my friends the birds; the robin, the kingfisher, the peacock… birds of different colour, but all who love life on the wing.
DYONISUS: Excellent. You say you have more things which are precious?
MIDAS: Yes. Three – my feelings. They are precious.
DYONISUS: Your feelings? Tell me more, King Midas.
MIDAS: My feelings of… smell. I can smell the bread my grandmother made, fresh from the oven. I can see. I can see my family joining together eating the bread. I can hear. I can hear the laughter as we eat together. I can feel. I can feel the loving cudldle of my mother’s arms around my shoulder as we eat. Which reminds me I can taste. I can taste the fresh bread as we all dine together; it is a wonderful feeling.
DYONISUS: Your senses are indeed precious. What else?
MIDAS: I need comfort.
DYONISUS : Comfort?
NARRATOR: The two kings stopped awhile and drank glasses golden lemon tea while they thought. King Midas had a glass which turned instantly to gold on his touch.
MIDAS: (SIGHS) Yes, my friend, I need comfort. Gold is beautiful, it rings with the colour of the garden and it seems to others to be valuable and dear. But no longer do I deem it as precious as once I thought.
DYONISUS: And how is comfort precious ?
MIDAS: Comfort is precious because nothing else matters without it. If I had no comfort I would not have a way to enjoy everything I have spoken about. Comfort can be a hug, a tasty meal, something – anything – to remind me of the people I love and who love me, the flavour of the feeling of friendship, the sound of togetherness and the sound of the voices who speak well of me.
DYONISUS: Wonderful, and you are quite right. Comfort is in the feeling of protection.
But you said you had another. The last of your hand’s fingers.
MIDAS: Yes. And It is Gold, my master.
Pause.DYONISUS: Gold ?MIDAS: Yes. Gold. Gold shines as I cannot. Precious would I be at the touch of Gold. My ears listen; to beautiful music and the golden voice of friends, my mouth tastes delicate golden flavours and delicious meals, my nose can smell most wondrous scents and shades of golden honeydew and honeysuckle, dripping with the milk of golden hope. My eyes see visions of perfection; golden birds, bees and dragonflies. But gold I need to touch. That to me – all of that – is comfort.
DYONISUS: King Midas. Hear me. Tell me why…?
MIDAS: Because I touch everything I want. And everything I want becomes gold.
NARRATOR: In Midas’s sadness the friends wanted to hug. But couldn’t.
DYONISUS: (sternly) Speak, Midas. Years ago I granted you a wish, when after my illness you spoke of your desire to have everyting at your touch to become gold. And against my judgement I granted you that wish.
MIDAS: You did, King Dyonisus.
DYONISUS: Your mother, your pet animals, friends and books. Are they not more precious to you than gold?
MIDAS: Of course. I could not bear to be without reading, nor without the company of my pets – and especially without the love of my mother. So I cannot touch them. I canno’t speak to them for fear they may change to gold and not give me the comfort I need – and wish to give them.
DYONISUS: You have been greedy, King Midas. Greedy. One wish you asked for, and one wish you were granted. What is done cannot be undone. This you must learn to live with. But teach your learnings to others in your circle. Gold is metal. Gold is colour. but gold cannot bring you happiness as you thought it could.
MIDAS: I understand.
NARRATOR: Midas had learned. And vowed to tell to the people he loved in Ancient Greece of his story.
All that is golden does not glisten .
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THE SADIM TOUCH
( ESTABLISHING MUSIC: SOLEMN GREEK THEME )NARRATOR: In Greece, thirteen hundred years ago, King Midas of Pessinus was growing old.
In his life he had been granted the abitiy to turn everything he touched into gold, bringing him riches beyond imagination. He made gifts of such wealth and beauty for his friends and his family, but it bought him little happiness.
His best friend, King Sadim, one day came to see him.
SADIM: “I’m sad, King Midas” said Sadim( MUSIC STOPS )( FX: THE SOUND OF PEACOCKS ARE HEARD )
MIDAS: “Sad aboutwhat?”, asked his friend.
SADIM: “Everything of gold I touch turns wrong”.MIDAS “Explain.” said King Midas.
SADIM “The statue you gave me – my golden rabbit – is now alive; a simple creature,”“The Crown which knows I’m King Sadim and was on me placed by your trusted servants has merely became a simple hat of cotton.”
“And my necklace of fluted gold and which rang its rosy ring around my neck is now on my touching just a line of string.”
“I now no longer have to my name a Golden Statue, A Golden Necklace nor a Crown of Gold.”
“Instead I have a hat of cloth. I have a rabbit and I have a length of simple string. What use are these to anyone?”
( GENERIC BUT SOLEMN GREEK MUSIC RESUMES ) NARRATOR Sadim crouched in contemplation, thinking.Midas thought too, being careful not to touch his friend on the shoulder, though so much he wanted to, and said:
MIDAS “Your rabbit. Is not your rabbit more beautiful in movement, hopping and twitching and breathing in our air than it was standing, still in golden silence?“Your hat. Could not your hat protect you and keep you warm from the wind and the rains far better than any crown of gold?”
“And as for your thread of string, what use is a golden necklace when one wishes to tie together the simple things one truly treasures? “
NARRATOR King Sadim pondered awhile.And The King Sadim rose to his feet, aware that treasure – the things in life which he enjoyed more than any others – were his, for nothing.
And he was grateful.
And King Midas thought too.
( MUSIC STOPS )MIDAS “All that glistens is not gold, King Sadim. Riches are to be treasured but richness can be found in everything you can see, hear, smell, taste – and touch. “
NARRATOR The two parted unable to embrace for fear of King Midas turning his friend Sadim into gold.But as he left King Sadim stopped, paused, and to King Midas replied:
SADIM “Thank you my friend, King Midas. I realise that. And now I know all that’s gold does not glisten”.
( MUSIC : CLOSING GREEK THEME ) ————————-
Chris Head
