The Parthenon

Photo by Hans Reniers on Unsplash

The Parthenon is something I came across in the world of books (on history of architecture). Multiple times. A row of Doric columns silhouetted against an azure sky. In a state of ruin. Far removed in time from its original purpose, it seemed to retain an austere beauty that caught my attention. So, I added Greece to my travel wish list. I wanted to know how I would feel, to look up at this beautiful structure, knowing its history. The travel has not happened as yet, but from what I have read up so far, the story goes something like this - 

Decades and centuries ago, Athens became the birthplace of democracy after the Persians had been defeated in the Peloponnesian War. In the words of Pericles, it became 'the land that celebrates philosophy, science and reason, and allows its people to live well while exercising their duty and rights to be fully human'. Almost a century later, when they built the Acropolis as a testimony to their democracy,  the guiding principle was an ingenious blend of logic and spirituality.

The Parthenon, a temple dedicated to Athena, the goddess of wisdom, was considered the crowning glory of the Athenian Acropolis. The point of the entry from the Propylaea falls along the path of the sun's journey from East to West (marked in yellow). The buildings in the Acropolis including the Parthenon, were placed on a 12th of a segment of a circle. The number 12 not only had a sacred connotation in Greek mythology, but this specific arrangement of the buildings enabled a view of the maximum possible surface area from a single point(indicated in blue).

The structures in the Acropolis were built with the Pentelic marble from the nearby Mount Pentelicus. It was a 'flawless white marble with a uniform faint yellow tint.' The marble blocks were attached using iron clamps inserted into grooves carved out in the blocks. Archaeologists have discovered that molten lead was poured onto these grooves over the clamps to prevent them from corroding and protect them from seismic shocks. 

Yet another interesting example of their ingenuity lies in the illusion of perfectly straight lines in this building. In reality, both the horizontal as well vertical lines bulge in the middle. It has been speculated that the bulge in the horizontal lines could have been introduced to ensure the drainage of rain water. But the more favored theory is that it was consciously incorporated as a visual refinement to compensate for any distortion of the building when perceived by the human eye. Either way, they managed to achieve flawless proportions and fine balance. This distinctly demonstrates their single-minded attention to details. It could be the very reason the Parthenon must have survived the 2000 odd years of earthquakes, fire, gunpowder explosion and looting. 

Our present begins to make more sense as we uncover the mysteries of the past. At the same time, it helps us better our future. There is a large team of people from various backgrounds working on the restoration of the Parthenon. I like to believe that they wonder at the marvel that Parthenon is, just as Pericles had predicted. But the sceptic in me is also curious about the flaws and negatives, if there were any, hidden amongst the multitude of conspicuous and subtle positives. After all, their democracy was not entirely without fault. The Athenians, who considered Athena as the patron of their city, did not allow its women to vote. People captured in wars were enslaved. Undoubtedly, these went against their principle of the right to be fully human. But much as I tried, I came across nothing that contradicts the Parthenon's claims to perfection. Maybe time had succeeded in painting over the ugly parts of the history, leaving behind a specimen rich in Greek imagination and inventiveness.

It was built it in less than a decade, without any architectural blueprints or tools that we'd recognize today. Inadvertently , we have assumed that our techniques and resources are far better than our ancestors'. Were we to delve deeper, there are speculations to the contrary. Archaeological evidence points to a very organic, living approach, evolving every step of the way, that we, probably should practice more of today. Attention to detail is often forgotten in our mad rush to meet the ever-shrinking deadlines. Quantity and profits trump quality. In the present state of things, the idea of any work we do, surviving the test of time like the Parthenon, seems impossible. This leaves us with a pertinent question - won't it help to take pointers from such worthwhile examples to build our everyday lives?