Mythology at Macy's

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Pet theory #1027: The epic and tragic impulses that created the Iliad and Greek tragedy endure today in movies, some books, and even some lives. They manifest in unconventional forms as well. To wit:

Sports: Sports is soap opera for men (and many women). Baseball, for example, has narrative built into every level of play, from a single at-bat (a great pitcher-batter duel in which the batter fouls off pitch after pitch) to the 80+-year Curse of the Babe. Stories extend from an inning, to a game, to a season, to the lifetime of a club.

Shopping: Have you ever had a friend (probably a woman if it’s a high-end store, probably a man if it’s a bargain) tell the story of a great shopping moment? It has all the elements of a great quest: a journey, often with multiple waylays, taking the seeker farther and farther from home; seemingly insurmountable obstacles; urgent time constraints; a woman of steel whose own determination is combined with a miraculous (divine?) intervention to end in triumph---or whose near-victory is tragically thwarted by fate, leaving her empty-handed and attending the next day’s wedding in an old fuchsia prom dress.

Example, albeit a minor one: Last weekend Jay and I were on our way to see Beowulf at the mall cinema, but first had to stop inside the mall for a salad. Walking from the parking garage to the mall, we were extremely chilly, having underestimated the drop of temperature after sundown. We’re eating our salad when the resolution comes upon me: Why should we suffer? We’re in a MALL, damnit. We only have 20 minutes before we have to be at the theatre, but I think we can do it. My inner Odysseus (the smart, crafty one) grasps that JC Penney is the store of our dreams: not too far on the same floor, a wealth of choices, and cheap prices. We stride purposively down the hall, Ajax-like. Upon entering Penney’s I immediately spot a not-too-light, not-too-heavy argyle sweater for Jay for $19.95. Swoop. I send him to the men’s dept. register, with instructions to meet me at the store entrance in 10 minutes. For my part, I’ve been wanting a red peacoat for the winter. I go into the women’s department and head for the coats. I’m hurrying down the aisle, and there, straight ahead of me, is one single red peacoat. Surely, it can’t be my size, of all the possible sizes? But yes, it is! I grab it, run to the fitting room, and put it on. Perfect except for the sleeves, which are too long, as I’m a “Petite” and this is a “Regular.” Still, I can get that altered. So out I march off to the register, but on the way I see that there has miraculously appeared ANOTHER red peacoat on the same empty rack. Well, what the chances, but I have to check. Yes, it is in my size but PETITE! The gods are so favoring me today; I am totally Achilles. It’s bought, paid for, and we plop down in our seats at the cinema just as the previews begin.

What is it about these little triumphs, these little instances of things going Just Right, that are so thrilling? As we saunter down the sidewalk in our toasty new items, there’s a feeling that the world is good, we are bathed in serendipity, we are blessed, and all’s right with the world. Of course, we’re not blessed, there’s no serendipity, and the universe can come crashing down and smack us to the floor with no warning. All over, things are awful. But still, it’s not so wrong to indulge one’s sense of safety and luck. What do we wish for each other, for those we love and those we don’t even know, except the blessing of those very sensations of being safe, protected from on high, that someone has an eye on us and wants things to go well? So I say to myself: Enjoy your nice red coat, with its perfect hue and its woolly warmth. It’s cold outside.
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