The Stones of Hermes: Explorations

BRILLIANT GODS, a five-volume cycle, begins with a non-fiction essay about Greek Polytheism, an ancient religion still valid today. Each of the other four books is a moral tale, focusing on a single god or goddess. THE STONES OF HERMES is the first of these fictions. September, 1786: Two French ships on an ambitious voyage of discovery drop anchor at a lonely outpost of the Spanish Empire. French sailors and scientists mingle with Spanish soldiers and priests. Some mingle with Indians. The French find largely what they have been trained to find. But First Officer Robert de Clonard discovers something more. Three surprising texts come into his possession--a mystical parable, an unknown Gospel, and a critique of Genesis. Clonard is fascinated by these texts. Each offers him a unique way of thinking about God. THE STONES OF HERMES is not a novel. The journey here is intellectual. By its end, no one will take monotheism for granted or polytheism for dead.

From the age of ten I tried to reconcile what I learned in school with what I learned in church. Science gave me a convincing way to understand physical reality. A Christian upbringing gave me inspiring stories that saw the world in a wholly different light. Although each approach was compelling in its sphere, the two often disagreed about matters of fact. One could not believe both at once. At Oberlin, at Berkeley, and in the college towns that followed, I wondered if this conflict might be irresolvable. Two things looked to be certain. The scientific model, while always evolving, values a single method consistent across cultures. By contrast, religions vary widely in their notions of evidence as well as in their claims. I began to compare the paths to religious truth, first looking west, then east. In the 1970s I took my first trip to Greece, visiting many classical sites and collections. Back home, I paid more attention to mythology. In museums, I sought out classical art. I devoured books on ancient religion. I returned to Greece for research. Forty years later, I know that scientific knowledge and spiritual knowledge can exist amicably together, each reinforcing the other, because they have done so before. Such a conclusion derives from scholarship but even more from direct experience of the art, architecture, and literature of the Greeks.