The Southern Review, March 22nd, 2003
Hieronymus and the Lion Legends grow slowly and askant the truth: time confounds them or entwines their heroes like vines so that they'll bear a single flower. The slave Androcles, spared in the arena by the lion who remembered his kindness, for instance, served as the hero for a story which I witnessed first, in an earlier year, when Hieronymus and I traveled north from Rome to secure some sacred texts. We traversed an open field surrounded by forests, and paused for lunch. I watched a caterpillar crawl comically up a stick, as suddenly a lion burst into our midst, its Pangs bared, its tail ...
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