Oh My Gods, page 32
Odysseus woke with a start when he heard what he thought were the voices of young women laughing in his dreams. He looked around and saw that he was lying in some bushes near a beach and that the sun was high in the sky. He saw that his clothes had been washed away by the storm and that he looked a fright, covered in brine and sand. Then he heard the voices again. He realized he was not dreaming, but that the boat he had made on Calypso’s island had brought him to some new land. He wondered if he would ever get home to Ithaca, for he knew his island well and this was not it, pleasant though it seemed. He decided it was best to approach the girls and ask if they could direct him to the ruler of the land.
Nausicaa and her friends gasped in shock when they saw a naked man coming toward them. He looked terrible, but the princess noticed something about him, some noble bearing that stopped her from running away in fright. She stood her ground and asked what he wanted. Odysseus complimented the young woman on her beauty, then asked if he might be given a few rags to cover himself along with directions to the local palace. Nausicaa ordered her maids to give the man some of her brothers’ old clothes and show him a stream where he could wash the salt and dirt from his filthy body. When he was done, she told him he was on the island of the Phaeacians, dear to the gods, ruled by her father, the wise king Alcinous. He was married to her mother, the excellent queen Arete, and had many warriors and ships at his command. She told him it wouldn’t at all look proper if she led a strange man back to her home, but he could follow the road and easily find the royal dwellings.
The princess and her companions then gathered their things and headed for home, while Odysseus considered what he should do. The girl seemed friendly enough, but he had been through so much at the hands of those who had welcomed him at first. Better to be cautious and not reveal too much until necessary. But he prayed to Athena that this would be the last stop before he found his way back to Ithaca. He asked the goddess to intercede and move the king to grant him a ship to sail home to his Penelope.
As Odysseus walked toward the splendid halls of Alcinous, he saw a little girl beside the path who offered to be his guide. She told him all about the wondrous island and the virtues of the king, though she warned him that the people, descended from the god Poseidon himself, were suspicious of strangers. Fortunately a thick mist had descended on them so that they walked toward the city hidden from view. The girl told him that he should first go to the queen and clasp her knees in supplication, for Arete was known to be more welcoming than her husband. As they entered the palace surrounded by rich orchards, the girl wished him well and seemed to disappear—a fitting exit for the goddess Athena in disguise.
Odysseus gathered his courage and walked into the throne room of the king. Before anyone had seen him, he fell down before the queen and grasped her knees. “Queen Arete, after many trials I come to you to beg for mercy. May the gods grant you prosperity and may your children be the pride of your life. As for myself, I ask only a ship to take me back to my native land. If you knew how far I’ve come and how much I’ve suffered, you would be kindly disposed to the man you see before you.”
The queen and king were surprised to find a suppliant appear suddenly in their court, but they knew the laws of hospitality and asked him to rise. They called for a chair for their guest and sat before him food and wine.
After he had eaten his fill, they asked the mysterious stranger who he was and where he had come from. Odysseus replied that he would prefer to withhold his name for the time being, but he could tell them that he was a man of some nobility who had been held for seven years on the island of Calypso, daughter of the Titan Atlas. He had at last escaped and come to their shores, seeking only a small ship to take him home to his native Ithaca. The king declared he would see that his visitor reached his home, but in the meantime let him rest in the palace. The next day they would have a wonderful feast to send him on his way. Odysseus thanked Alcinous and went to his chambers to sleep. Years of toil and troubles seemed almost at an end, if only he could make it back to Ithaca. He knew that he would face trials there as well, but at least he would be home.
The following evening the king held a great banquet in honor of his guest with all the nobles of the land invited. After platters of food had been served and goblets of sweet wine poured into the cups, the king called his bard Demodocus to come and entertain them. The company all rose to honor the blind singer, who bore the history and stories of their people. He knew many songs of lands beyond as well and plucked his lyre as he began. Everyone cheered as he sang of how Hephaestus had once trapped his wife, Aphrodite, in a net with Ares on Mount Olympus. Then someone asked for a tale of Troy and how the Greeks had taken that mighty city. Demodocus raised his voice with a song of the wooden horse built by the plan of the wily Odysseus and how the Trojans had dragged the ill-fated gift into their town. He told of how the Greeks had snuck from the belly of the beast that night and slaughtered the Trojans as the city went up in flames.
Odysseus sat listening to the words of the bard who sang as if he had been there himself. In his mind he saw again the horror of that night—brave men dying all around him as they tried to defend their families, mothers violated before their sons and daughters while the Greeks laughed, children screaming as they were thrown from the walls—all for the glory of war. He began to weep uncontrollably, sobbing as he fell to the ground, just like the women whose husbands he had killed that night before he dragged them off into slavery and shame. The Phaeacians watched him with great sympathy and gave him time to collect himself. Then Alcinous lifted him up and sat him gently in his own chair. He asked him again who he was.
“Great king, noble lady, kind people of Phaeacia. You ask who I am and what brought me to this land. It is a long tale full of pain, but if you want to hear it, I will tell you. I am Odysseus, son of Laertes, and I have suffered more than any man alive.” And with that, he began his story.
We gladly set sail from Troy that day so long ago and the wind drove our ships west to the Thracian lands of the Cicones, allies of the Trojans. There my warriors and I sacked one of their cities and killed the men, but kept the women and children as slaves. I shared everything with my comrades and urged them to sail before more Cicones came, but they wouldn’t listen, sitting on the beach drinking all the wine they had stolen until they fell asleep. The next morning the neighboring Cicones rode out of the mist and cut them down. We struggled to raise our bronze weapons against them, but they were too fast on their chariots and forced us to flee. Many men who had fought at Troy for ten years died that day because of their foolishness.
A storm blew us away from there with winds that tossed our ships for two days and nights. We were exhausted when the sun finally showed us the Peloponnesus on our starboard side. The gale had carried us just where we wanted to go—almost home! I might have seen my family soon afterward if another storm hadn’t hit us then, far worse than the first, driving us for nine days into unknown seas. On the tenth morning we reached the land of the Lotus Eaters. I drew the ships up onshore to collect fresh water and sent three scouts inland to see who might live there. When they didn’t return, I set off myself with a group of armed men ready for a fight. But the natives of that land meant us no harm. They welcomed us all and offered us the honey-sweet fruit of the lotus to eat. Some of my men tasted it, then lost their desire to journey home. All they wanted to do was stay and eat the lotus fruit forever. I grabbed these men by the throats and forced them back to the ships against their will, then ordered all the ships to cast off immediately and row away from that coast.
The spirits of my men were low as the ships sailed to another unfamiliar shore. It was a desolate land with rough inland hills and wild goats roaming everywhere. We found anchorage in a small harbor there and set about catching goats for our supper, then made a fine meal and slept through the night in peace. When dawn came once again, I left most of my soldiers on the beach and headed away from the shore with only a few warriors to see what kind of men inhabited the land. We hadn’t gone far when we saw the entrance to a cave in the hillside with a large stone rolled away from its mouth. There were sheep pasturing nearby, larger than any in Greece. I took a skin of wine and entered the cavern, hoping to trade for food, but found no one home. The rest of my men soon discovered cheese drying on racks and spring lambs penned in the corner.
We made ourselves at home and built a fire to roast a sheep, then feasted on cheese and awaited the return of the shepherd. Late in the day, just as the sun was setting, we heard something large approaching the cave and quickly put out the fire. The creature that entered was like nothing I had ever seen before. He was a giant, taller than three men standing on top of each other, and had a single, enormous eye in the center of his forehead. He entered the cave, then rolled the huge stone across the entrance so that nothing larger than a mouse could escape. My men and I hid quietly in a corner while he milked his sheep and set aside the curds in the wicker racks for cheese. But then after he had lit his fire, the monster saw us huddled in the shadows.
“Who are you?” he demanded.
“We are Greek sailors,” I answered, “making our way home from Troy. May it please Zeus, who watches over all guests, we would like to trade with you for food and be on our way.”
“You are a fool,” said the giant. “I am Polyphemus, a Cyclops, the son of Poseidon, and I care nothing for Zeus.” With that he reached out and grabbed two of my men by their legs and smashed their heads against a stone as if they were puppies. He tore their limbs from their bodies and ate everything raw before our eyes, even the bones and entrails. We cried out to Zeus for justice, but the Cyclops ignored us and fell asleep among his flocks. I thought about stabbing him dead with my sword—but then who would move the stone away? We were trapped in a cavern with a monster who was going to kill and eat us all.
After a sleepless night for my men and me, the Cyclops left the next morning, putting the stone carefully in place to seal us in. We tried everything to move that rock, but it was no use. While my men wept and prayed to the gods, I sat down and considered what we might do. Just before sunset, I hit upon a plan and told my men to pour some of the wine we had brought into one of the Cyclops’ bowls. When the giant entered that evening and closed us in once again, I spoke to him.
“Mighty Polyphemus, son of the great god Poseidon, receive this gift from our hands. It is wine, made by human hands, but a gift from the gods.”
The monster took the bowl and drained it in a single gulp, then demanded more. After a second bowl, he asked my name.
“I will tell you my name,” I said, “if you promise to give me a gift. My name is Nobody—that’s it—Nobody.”
“A strange name,” said the Cyclops. “All right, Nobody, my gift to you is that I will eat you last!” Then he laughed as he grabbed two more of my men and devoured them like the first. With that he fell over in a drunken stupor and snored so loudly the cave shook.
“Courage,” I whispered to my men. “Now we will have our revenge.”
I ordered them to take a long wooden pole and sharpen it, then harden the point in the fire. When all was ready, I climbed on a rock above the sleeping Cyclops and plunged the stake through his heavy lid deep into his single eye. The monster awoke screaming in agony, then groped his way to the stone and rolled it away from the door just enough to shout to his neighboring Cyclopes.
“Help me!” he cried. “Nobody has attacked me! Nobody has blinded me!”
From the distant hills came cries in response: “Shut up, you fool! Stop making so much noise. If nobody has hurt you, why are you bothering us?”
With that Polyphemus sank down on the cave floor and rolled the stone back in place. He tried to find us with his hands, but we moved too quickly for him. At last he settled into sleep in front of the door, whimpering from the pain even in his dreams.
The next morning the bleating sheep woke the Cyclops as they cried to be let out to pasture. I told my men each to grab quickly the underside of one of the animals and hold on if they valued their lives. Then Polyphemus rolled the stone away again and stood by the entrance, allowing only one sheep at a time to exit. He carefully felt each one to make sure it was not a man, but he didn’t bother to search underneath. Holding our breath, we all made it out of the cavern clinging to those wonderful sheep.
My men were overjoyed as we ran back to our ships, still anchored in the little harbor. As they rowed away, I could see Polyphemus stumbling down the path to the shore crying out that the man who had blinded him had escaped. My warriors all urged me to keep quiet, but I couldn’t help glorying over the stupid monster: “Hey, Polyphemus, you filthy cannibal, be careful you don’t trip and hurt yourself! Maybe now you’ll learn to treat your guests with respect. And by the way, my name isn’t Nobody, you silly creature, it’s Odysseus, son of Laertes, raider of cities and hero of Troy.”
The Cyclops threw giant stones at us, but they splashed harmlessly off our stern. Then he fell to his knees and sent up a prayer to Poseidon, calling down a curse upon me: “Father, if I am really your son, grant to me that Odysseus, son of Laertes, may never reach his home. But if it is his fate to do so, at least make sure that day is far off and that he returns home alone, a broken man.”
So Polyphemus spoke—and Poseidon heard his prayer. Oh, that I had kept my mouth shut as we sailed away from his island! But I foolishly gave him my name to use in his curse and have suffered for it since.
From the land of the Cyclops, we came to a beautiful island with sheer rock cliffs reaching to the sky. This was the home of Aeolus, lord of the winds, whose hall was scented with the sweet smell of roasting meats all day long. He hosted us for a full month as I told him of the long war at Troy and all that had happened since. Then as we departed, he gave me a sack made from the skin of a full-grown ox, holding winds from all the corners of the earth, but the west wind he let loose to blow us home.
Nine days we sailed our ships from his island and on the tenth Ithaca was in sight! But since I had manned the rudder the whole time, I could stay awake no longer and fell into a deep sleep. My men had grown envious of the gift Aeolus had given me, thinking it was a bag of silver and gold. They took it while I slept and loosed the cord holding the top. The winds that erupted from the skin tossed the ships about in a hurricane and blew us far away from our home. Soon we found ourselves back on the island of Aeolus. Humbled, I went to the halls of the king and pleaded for another fair wind to send us to Ithaca, but he scorned me and sent us away empty-handed for seeking a gift twice. Thanks to the folly of my crew, we were as far from home as ever.
Six days we rowed through calm seas and on the seventh came to the land of the Laestrygonians. Darkness never falls there, but sunset and sunrise meet each other every day. We sailed into a deep harbor and found the palace of Antiphates the king. The people were giants, but they all seemed friendly and welcomed us to their halls. Then when the king entered, he snatched up one of my men and tore him to pieces for his dinner. The other Laestrygonians came running from every side and speared my men like fish for their meal. Some of us fought our way back to the harbor, but only my ship sailed away from that cursed land, one of the twelve that had sailed from Ithaca many years before.
We were sick in our hearts for our murdered comrades, but still we journeyed on. Lost and alone on an unknown sea, we spied another island and pulled up on the beach, tired to our bones. The next morning I climbed the cliffs above the ship and saw smoke rising from the heart of the island. I sent my comrade Eurylochus inland with almost two dozen armed men to see what kind of people lived on these shores and if they might help us. It was no more than a few hours later when he came running back alone to the ship and told us to launch our craft quickly into the sea. I tried to make him calm down and tell us what had happened, but he was overcome by fear. At last he said they had come across a palace in the woods with gleaming bronze doors. A beautiful woman surrounded by tame beasts opened those doors and bade them enter, but he stayed behind, sensing a trap. Alas, the others drank the wine she offered and turned into pigs.
I told my crew we were not leaving. We had lost too many men already and would make our stand here on this island. I forced Eurylochus to lead me back to the palace and then sent him away to the ship. It was then that the god Hermes, sent by Zeus, appeared to me and told me I was about to enter the halls of the great witch Circe. He gave me a magical herb to eat and said it would protect me from the witch’s brew, then he vanished.
Circe met me at the door surrounded by her pets and welcomed me inside, then gave me a goblet and told me to refresh myself with her sweet wine. I drained the cup in one gulp, then threw it on the ground as I raised my sword to Circe’s throat. She was incredulous that I had not been transformed into a pig, but swore by the gods she would change my men back and help me on my journey. I spared her life and watched as my men regained their human form. Circe then offered me the hospitality of her home and called her lovely nymphs to fetch the rest of the men from the ship. We had been through so many trials that they welcomed the touch of the lovely maids and the ample food and drink of Circe’s house—a feast that flows on forever.
