This is not a nepenthe.
There's this really lovely word. Nepenthe. It sounds like a whisper an it means "not-sorrow". It was the potion Polydamna gave to Helen for her sadness. Some people thought it was only fictional, others thought it might be opium. I think my favorite people thought it was coffee, which makes this quote from The Odyssey extra funny to me.
A drink of this,
once mixed in with wine, would guarantee no man
would let a tear fall on his cheek for one whole day,
not even if his mother and his father died,
or if, in his own presence, men armed with swords
hacked down his brother or his son, as he looked on.
As a huge fan of coffee, I do feel that this might be a slight exaggeration of its magical properties..
Nepenthe is also a type of carnivorous pitcher plant. It grows on vines nearly fifty feet long with pitcher-esque flowers that hang down like fruit. The pitchers themselves can be over a foot long– large enough that some plants have tasted real mammal meat, not just bugs and frogs. They look otherworldy and beautiful. They look like something I would never touch. When I see them, something in my brain sets off an alarm– Caution! Poison!
They're not poison. In fact, they're safe and non-toxic. Even the enzymes the nepenthe uses to digest its prey aren't likely to do much more than give a mouth-curious dog an upset tummy. Of course, if your pet is small enough and the nepenthe is big enough, you may have a whole different kind of problem. So, not poison, but still dangerous.
Nepenthes weren't given what was necessary the way others flowers were. Other flowers were able to feed from the soil, sun, and rain. Nepenthes and other carnivorous plants had the bad luck to grow in bad soil. They had to learn to how to grow teeth to stay alive.
The most haunting bit of knowledge I have about nepenthes and other carnivorous plants is this: The prey willingly enters. Everything about their little bug lives tells them the nepenthe is safe. It has the right smell, the right colors, and the right taste. It's a perfectly constructed trap. The nepenthe says to the fly, "I have everything you want. I am everything you want. Please, please, come inside."
And so the fly does. After all, it would be rude to turn down such a nice invitation. Especially when the nepenthe has dinner cooking and it smells so good.
So, he steps in and, like Alice following the rabbit, the bottom drops out of the world. Gravity drags him down. Maybe he'll be lucky and drown in a pool of tears at the bottom. Or maybe he'll spend his final days watching the sky as the digestive enzymes slowly turn him into something he can't understand.
That's what all traps do, isn't it? We fall for them because we think they can save us. We think it's finally our lucky break. Finally someone who can see our worth. Finally, something that can take away our sadness. Finally, it's our turn. And by the time we realize we're trapped, maybe we don't even recognize ourselves anymore.
I'm doing something new and something old. I'm once again trying to make this blogging thing work. That's old. And I'm working on a story for a series called Friday The Thirteenth Stories. That's new to me. There are thirteen authors writing thirteen stories, each independent of each other. There are a few connective images and easter eggs in every story, but they're each alone, in their own little pitcher on the vine. Safe as Houses should go up for pre-order on April 13th and be released on Friday, June 13th.
I want to admit that I'm very nervous about this. I hope you like it. And if you don't, I hope you'll excuse my wish for a draught of nepenthe. I'll probably settle for coffee.
Sources
https://www.sarracenia.com/faq/faq1000.html
https://www.hellenicaworld.com/Greece/Literature/en/Nepenthe.html
https://www.thespruce.com/carnivorous-plant-varieties-4159595
https://livetoplant.com/is-nepenthes-pitcher-plant-safe-for-my-pets/
The Odyssey by Homer