The writer was moved by the story behind Leda and the swan.
He reread the saga. There seemed to be so much in it… this ancient myth from a foreign land. He pondered over both the violence and the sensuality of the thing. He was amazed at the duplicity of what took place in such imagined events. He was tempted to write a short piece, a short story, if you like, to bring these happenings into modern day life. Was he dealing with politics or economics or some other area of human endeavour that lends itself to any lack of scruples? As was so often the case, his choice of setting was hampered by the multiplicity of it all. Could a modern version of something so fantastical and captivating, yet quite lascivious, do justice to the original. He had to ask himself whether this topic should be treated with any degree of respect.
As for the swan itself, such a beautiful and gracious bird, what had made the fantasist choose this to be symbolic of those dominant powers that sway such social actions, and come to bear so heavily on the lives of people? The writer asked himself, what is this lovely creature being made to actually represent here? Does this old story from a time where myth and legend played such a prominent role in men’s affairs need to be dealt with, after all this time? He thought for a while about the relative importance of dealing with such things.
Should his simple style of writing about events that are based on common day-to-day matters that influence the lives of everyday people be given preference? Does this approach in fact take on a relevance and significance that in itself is more in keeping with everyday life?
He thought about the swan.
Was he prepared to go there?
His answer. No.
