LitWit Challenge 2.4: Death by Tennis Ball
This is The Death of Hyacinthus, a painting by the Venetian artist Giambattista Tiepolo. His source is a tale from Greek mythology: the god Apollo has a discus-throwing competition with his mortal friend Hyacinthus. The god underestimates his strength; a discus strikes Hyacinthus and kills him. Except that there is no discus in this picture. There is a tennis racquet. Bottom right corner, see?
This week’s LitWit Challenge: In 500 words or less, tell us the story that you can glean from this famous painting. In short, What is happening in this picture? Your story need not have anything to do with the Greek myth, but someone has to be killed by a tennis ball. Bring on the melodrama. Post your entries in Comments on or before 11.59pm on March 27, 2010.
The winner gets a hardcover copy of Murder Is My Racquet, an anthology of tennis-related crime stories edited by Otto Penzler, and a hardcover copy of The Luncheon of the Boating Party by Susan Vreeland, a novel inspired by the Renoir painting.
The Weekly LitWit Challenge is brought to you by our friends at National Bookstore.
Answers to questions you might be asking, unless you wandered onto this site purely by accident >>>
March 22nd, 2010 at 04:38
Man under the arbor: ¡Caramba! This picture is so gay! I mean, two men paddling woody balls?
Man in black: Exactly? Did you notice that, too. And this guy here is wearing a fetch hat, a poncho, and a dress with a pattern that considerably slims the midsection? Queen, please?
Zephyr: Anybody can tell just from Apollo’s strategically-positioned open palm. Woot! Woot!
Man with pointy staff: I like the dying man’s sandals, which match his hand-crafted Italian belt, which sets off his torso and designer leather skirt beautifully.
Apollo: Dude. Why do you have to die when we’re 40-love?
Hyacinthus: Because you wanted to play in this cluttered tennis court, your serve is lousy, and the nice balls get invented in the ’70s pa, pare. That ball was kind of hard. Now let me die in this elegantly gay pose, on an esthetically crumpled orange Dolce & Gabbana sheet, no less, accented by this tasteful flower shrub. Farewell, jake. Ugh.
Apollo: Sheeeeet, man! Why do you have to die!
Zephyr: If my mother called me Hyacinth and we were living in the Philippines, I’d also want to die.
March 23rd, 2010 at 17:11
Death via Discus? Nay.
And so it was generally accepted that the death of Hyacinthus, a beautiful young sportsman admired by the god Apollo, was brought about by an accident during a discus throw. Legend tells of a story where Hyacinth, in his attempt to impress Apollo, attempted to catch the discus thrown by the god would instead miss and be fatally struck leading to his tragic death.
Legend suggests that the blame for such a tragedy lay with Zephyrus, god of the wind, whom it was speculated caused the discus to veer slightly off course at the last minute ultimately striking and killing Hyacinth.
Yet those who wish to know the real story behind this tragedy need to look no further than the tennis racquet and balls lying beside Hyacinth.
You see, Apollo was whispered to be a jealous god, and Hyacinth, beautiful as he was, was known to be a man so in love with himself that his vanity was said to have rivaled that of Narcissus himself.
It happened one sunny afternoon, Hyacinth noticed a pair of young males playing tennis by the side of the field where he and Apollo would regularly throw the discus and decided to join them instead of keeping his date with Apollo.
Hyacinth, fascinated by the grace involved in playing tennis, thought it a perfect opportunity to show off his magnificent body under the sun. So, he stripped of his upper garments that all might admire his fine physique and began playing tennis with the young men. The boys smiled and called out his name with every stroke and soon a small crowd had gathered.
Apollo who had just arrived was angered by the scene that greeted him and even more so for being stood up for their date so that Hyacinth could simply show off his body. Apollo, known to be one of the mightiest of discus throwers, instead picked one up one of the tennis racquets lying around and flung it straight at Hyacinth from a great distance with the handle of the racquet striking Hyacinth directly in the groin.
Apollo, who only meant to teach Hyacinth a lesson, was shocked by the power of his throw and immediately hurried to his friend’s side only to realize that a fatal blow had been struck. We can see the image of one of the young men in anguish at the back of the crowd as Hyacinth breathes his last.
Believe what you wish about the legend but the tennis racquet and balls scattered on the floor tell the real story.
March 27th, 2010 at 14:14
The picture is a scene from the ABS-CBN soap opera Rubi, which stars Angelica Panganiban. Also starring are Jake Cuenca, Shaina Magdayao, Deither Ocampo and Cherie Gil. Jake is the dying guy, Deither the one with his fist to his forehead, and Cherie Gil the bearded man.
Angelica was canoodling with Jake one afternoon in the plaza. They didn’t have motel money, so they brought with them their trusty orange bedsheet. The plaza is called Luneta.
“So who are we now?” asked Angelica.
“You be Anna Kournikova and I’ll be Julio Iglesias.”
“You mean Enrique. I don’t fornicate with old men.”
And so they role-played in the plaza, beside the bushes and the white statue. Little did they know that Angelica’s impersonations of Kournikova’s grunts as the latter hits a tennis racquet could be heard miles away.
“I hear Anna Kournikova’s grunts,” related Shaina to Deither.
“Kournikova in the Philippines? Ridiculous. Besides, she hasn’t played in the WTA for a while.”
“Explains why she’s in the Philippines.”
Cherie walked in and handed her prized wooden racquet to Shaina. “Make Kournikova sign it for me, please.”
“Sure. We were going to look for Kournikova anyway.”
The tennis fans headed to the plaza to get Kouirnikova’s signature on the racquet. With the help of Deither’s bionic ears, they were able to locate the source of the powerful grunts.
The two discussed how best to politely ask for a signature from a tennis player under the sheets. Overhearing them, Jake gagged Angelica with the tennis ball they were using as props to shut her up, and revealed himself. He played along with the idea of him with Kournikova.
“Wassup?!?”
“Where is Anna Kournikova?” asked Shaina.
“What?”
“I thought I heard kournikova’s grunts from under the sheet.”
“Kournikova in the Philippines? Ridiculous.”
“Let me see.”
At that moment Jake appeared to faint on the sheets and guarded Angelica with an awkward pose. “Go away, Shaina. I’m busy.”
Pissed at Jake for telling her to leave, Shaina threw the racquet on the ground and walked out.
“Dude, what the hell was that?” Deither couldn’t believe Jake would do that to Shaina, and so he put his fist to his forehead and raised his other arm to show his disbelief.
Cherie walked in to find the two in such an awkward position, so she immediately put on a fake beard as a disguise. Finding her racquet on the ground, Cherie was enraged. Luckily, the other people who had rushed to the plaza to determine the source of the grunts were there to stop her. As for Angelica, well, that’s her angel taking her soul to heaven.
March 28th, 2010 at 17:38
Too bad I missed the deadline, I had the beginnings of an idea for this contest. Didn’t have time to write it, though (I only got as far as ‘Communists surround them’).
March 30th, 2010 at 17:09
Giambattista Tiepolo actually created this painting as a sign of his guilt for having murdered his tennis buddy. Using the story of Hyacinthus was only a metaphor for the heinous crime that he committed which went down like this: Out of his rage because of his having lost a match/bet with his tennis buddy, Tiepolo killed the guy with not only one, not only two, but three tennis balls (as is evidently seen in the picture — there are two balls in the lower right side and one in the lower left). Three times did Tiepolo swing his racket with a tennis ball each time with all his might to kill his tennis buddy, who was begging for mercy after the match, when he saw the murderous gleam in Tiepolo’s eyes. The balls were hit with such force that they addled the tennis buddy’s brain and led to the malfunction of his locomotor skills, leaving him to die in such a gay manner (as portrayed by Hyacinthus in the picture). After Tiepolo’s rage had subsided did he realize the gravity of what he had done, and he never quite forgave himself after that. He always wanted to be reminded of the crime that he did, that ultimately he created this painting, and painted the statue with the fierce pose at the uppermost left part pointing directly at the viewer as a symbolism that it was he, Tiepolo, who committed murder, murder by tennis balls.
March 30th, 2010 at 17:10
*statue at the uppermost right part
March 31st, 2010 at 22:37
Act III, Scene 9. The Bottom.
It’s the bottom of the ninth, and nobody knows what’s going on. The Shirtless team huddles around their fallen champion; Hyacinth has drooped elegantly into the corner. Communists surround them.
Apollo: What are you doing?! The Brazilian Bourkas have hit three holes-in-one since you decided to take a nap!
Hyacinth: Gerald, is that you?
A: Who — Oh, has he been at the mead again? I swear, this would be the third Grandmaster title that we WON’T win because you keep on raiding the bishop’s minibar.
H: Oh Coach, hi. You won’t believe how right you were about the mead. And the holes-in-one. (Gasps painfully, burps.)
A: Hyacinth — Is this the end? (Chokes up.) I have a confession to make.
H: You weren’t planning on turning me into a flower, were you?
A: … No, but that’s not a bad idea. I was gonna say that the Shirtless team only took you on because you blind the opponents with your marmolean torso, as thus. (Gestures at petrified satyr.) Also, I think you’re hot.
H: Dude, we’re lovers… (Expires.)
Zephyr/Referee: The Shirtless team wins for creativity, with a score of Love.
Communist 1: Tennis hasn’t been around long enough to have coherent rules.
Communist 2: But communism has had a long tradition in human history.
~Song and dance~