A Portrait of the Artist at the Center of the World

A Portrait of the Artist at the False Center of the World

Earlier, we’d hiked all over the side of Mount Parnassus exploring the ruins at Delphi. Sheila was dual major in French and Greek and she had a burning desire to experience the ancient world of Greece. I was mainly just ecstatic over the sweeping vistas. We had Delphi mostly to ourselves and spent hours seeking the exact spot of the Omphalos, the center of the world that Zeus had established by releasing two eagles from opposite ends of the earth and marking where they met. We roamed over the terraces and temples, steeping ourselves in the ancient wisdom of the oracle in letters carved around the door of the temple, “Gnothi seautón,” Sheila said. Know thyself.  “Medén ágan.” Nothing in excess.

Why do people not talk about the third pronouncement carved at the entrance? Engia pára d’ate? It’s more cryptic, more open to interpretation. “Make a pledge and mischief is nigh,” or “certainty brings ruin,” or “give surety, get ruin,” surety sometimes interpreted as pledging one’s body against a debt –– a caution against indenturing oneself––or marrying; or perhaps it’s a warning against the fundamental problem of human nature: being cocksure of one’s own ideas.

A Portrait of the Artist at the Center of the World