Mt. Helicon, we must assume, was the original Humanities Research Center. At least the nine Mousai, or" Mindful Ones," had tenure there. They began in a fairly undifferentiated, we might almost say interdisciplinary, way, but visiting scholars introduced a little entrepreneurial competition. So the nine daughters of Zeus were made to fit into, if not departments, then specialized consultan-cies: Calliope (Heroic Epic), Euterpe (Flutes), Terpsicore (Lyric Poetry-Dance) and Erato (Lyric Poetry-Hymns), Melpomene (Tragedy), Thalia (Comedy), Polyhymnia (Mimic Art), Urania (Astronomy) and, of course, Clio (History). Naturally, they were judges and examiners in most of the important international competitions. They kept standards high, and some competitors suffered from their objectivity, notably, the Sirens, who were obliged to retool or become redundant. Originally, the Muses were associated with springs and pools. Running water inspired; still water reflected. But with specialization came institutionalization, and they ended up in museums. Consultancy outside museums had its problems. It usually ended up in a blank stare, which was called" being amused."'At the other extreme was the intense young man Narcissus. He actually went to Mt. Helicon, trying to escape a pretty young plagiarist named Echo, who had the annoying habit of repeating everything everybody said. He paused by the still waters, made a reflection, fell in love with it, and was transformed into a flower. Reflexivity can do that.

Clio, being firstborn, always had a superior air. She was depicted crowned with laurels and usually held a trumpet in one hand and a book in the other. Ref-erences, it seems, have always been important. Clio's name meant" Glory." There has always been an expectancy that history blows somebody's trumpet.'