Heraean Games: Female Olympics

When Ancient Greece Banned Women From Olympics, They Started Their Own | Atlas Obscura

Much like their modern counterpart, the Olympic Games in ancient Greece wasn't exactly a level playing field for women. It's true that women of all ages were allowed to enjoy the festivities and exhilarating athletic events in cities throughout the Peloponnese states, including Delos and Athens. But the Games in Olympia in the land of Elis—the city where the Olympics originated—retained its traditional, sacred ban of women. Elis decreed that if a married woman (unmarried women could watch) was caught present at the Olympic Games she would be cast down from Mount Typaeum and into the river flowing below, according to Greek geographer and travel writer Pausanias.

During these ancient times, women lived much shorter lives, were excluded from political decision-making and religious rites, and were forced into early marriages after giving birth to several children. Despite the societal inequalities and oppression, women in Greece wanted to play—so they started their own Olympics called the Heraean Games.

“Every fourth year,” Pausanias wrote in 175 A.D., “there is woven for Hera a robe by the Sixteen women, and the same also hold games called Heraea.”

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Someone Else's War

From the Australian:

Someone Else's War blends documentary evidence with imagination in bringing Stambolis to life, but even without the fictional darning the facts of her story are extraordinary enough. Born illegitimate in 1904, she was reared by an independent-minded seamstress who served the Greek royal family. Despite a good education and hopes for university, at 17 she married Michael, 15 years her senior and living in Australia. Coming with him to his fish shop in Sydney's Pyrmont she gave birth to a succession of children including Kafcaloudes's mother, Nellie.

But the relationship proved problematic, partly because of personal tragedies and partly because of a frustration within Olga, who craved a broader, more vivid canvas than the deep-fat fryer existence she had bought into through marriage. For reasons that are revealed later in the book, Olga left her family in 1936 and moved to Athens.

The novel-based-on-fact path is never a totally felicitous one as most people are doggedly devoted to distinguishing truth from fiction. Kafcaloudes manages this obstacle-strewn journey admirably in most instances, signalling direct quotations from the diary clearly and embroidering soberly in a tone that blends well with the older voice. While the truth within these highly dramatic and heart-stopping fragments may not always be verifiable from other sources, they form a narrative that Olga was determined to record for an unknown posterity.