chapter

IN THE CAVE OF CYCLOPS

Cast

Odysseus King of Ithaca

Shipmate One One of Odysseus’ men

Shipmate Two One of Odysseus’ men

Shipmate Three One of Odysseus’ men

Shipmate Four One of Odysseus’ men

Polyphemus Cyclops

Cyclops One Brother of Polyphemus

Cyclops Two Brother of Polyphemus

NARRATOR: After many adventures at sea, Odysseus and his men had moored their ship near a strange island. High on the hillside they could see a huge cave-mouth gaping in the side of the cliff. Some kind of crude pen had been built around the level area before the cave-mouth. From this pen they heard the bleating of sheep.

SHIPMATE ONE: Odysseus! Sheep! Whoever lives in that cave must have mutton and milk—and maybe even cheese.

ODYSSEUS: True. But living alone on this desolate island wouldn’t do much for a person’s social skills. Whoever lives there might be hostile.

NARRATOR: The men dug in the ship’s provisions and produced a huge skin of wine, its top tied with a golden cord.

ODYSSEUS: All right. We’ll go. We’ll take Maron’s wine to barter with. There’s nothing like a little wine to encourage friendly relations.

ODYSSEUS: Only a few of you come with me. We don’t all want to go. A crowd might scare this fool shepherd out of his mind. He’s got to be lonely—living alone on this rock with nothing but his sheep.

NARRATOR: The men debated excitedly amongst themselves—excited at the prospect of mutton, milk, and cheese. Their argument resulted in a few shoves, but at last the men cast lots to decide. Then Odysseus led the 12 winners up the hillside toward the mysterious cave.

ODYSSEUS: (shouting) Hello! Is anyone here? We are men from Ithaca! Friends!

NARRATOR: Only the bleating of the penned sheep was heard. Odysseus and his men passed into the gigantic mouth of the cave. When their eyes adjusted to the dimness within, they discovered that the cave was very high-roofed indeed, but did not go further than a couple of hundred feet before it ended in a blank wall. They also saw two more pens, one filled with sheep, and the entire floor was covered with a soft, flaky layer of sheep dung.

NARRATOR: Along the cave wall there were piles of cheese and the devices used in its making. The men rushed forward to partake of the cheese and the nearby jars of milk.

ODYSSEUS: Wait, men! We are not barbarians. We will ask our host’s permission first.

ODYSSEUS: What kind of fool would say no? We are his guests. Does he want to anger the gods? Even out here in the middle of the sea, men must respect the gods. Now be patient. He will be back soon enough. See? This pen has no sheep in it. He must have taken them out to graze.

ODYSSEUS: Fine. Eat. Our host will not care once I’ve explained our situation.

NARRATOR: While his men threw themselves upon these delicacies, Odysseus began to examine the cavern more closely. There was something strange about it. Everything within it seemed large—large bowls, large jars, a large hide lay over one portion of the dung-covered floor.

SHIPMATE ONE: Odysseus! I have an idea. Let’s drive these sheep to our ship and make our getaway before the master of this house comes home.

ODYSSEUS: Have you lost your pride? Have 10 years of war turned you all into barbarians? We’re Greeks—not a bunch of mannerless pirates.

SHIPMATE TWO: (talking through a mouthful of cheese) Bup we’ve stowen befowe.

ODYSSEUS: Think, simpleton! If he has this many sheep, what a wealthy man he must be! And if we steal his sheep, will he be willing to give us a present?

ODYSSEUS: Shh! Be quiet. Here he comes now. As usual, let me do the talking.

NARRATOR: The sound of an approaching herd neared the cave’s entrance. The men turned—their mouths dripping with milk and stuffed with cheese—and nearly choked in their terror.

A herd of sheep was pouring into the cave’s entrance, but the shock was the sight of the shepherd towering above them. The creature, strong in limb and clad in a large fur like the one that lined the floor, had to duck to make it into the cave. When he beheld his visitors, the one large eye in the midst of his forehead blinked in confusion.

ODYSSEUS: (sharply) Whatever you do, don’t panic. Let me handle this. Hospitality is on our side. We are his guests.

NARRATOR: Odysseus looked up—acting as if he had not noticed the giant standing there—and smiled.

ODYSSEUS: Oh, dear me! Where did you come from, sir? You gave me quite a start. We are sailors, and we stopped here on your island. We were just enjoying your hospitality here.

NARRATOR: He pointed toward the cheese and the milk. Odysseus’ men began to shyly move away from its vicinity.

NARRATOR: The men were shaking in their sandals, but Odysseus remained calm.

ODYSSEUS: Pirates? Of course, not. We’re soldiers sailing home from Troy. Now we’re here on your doorstep, begging your hospitality, hoping that you will honor the gods’ wishes, and give us gifts and lodging.

NARRATOR: As Odysseus spoke, the Cyclops braced his body against a huge stone that stood beside the cave-mouth. With enormous force he rolled it over the entrance.

POLYPHEMUS: Stranger, you must be a fool to waltz into my cave and tell me to fear the gods! We Cyclopes never blink at Zeus or any other blessed god. We are mighty sons of Poseidon, and we have more strength than all of the gods put together.

POLYPHEMUS: (coyly) But tell me, friend, where did you moor your ship? Up the coast a way or close by?

ODYSSEUS: Our ship? No, no. Poseidon smashed my ship upon the rocks at the head of this island. Now it lies at the bottom of the sea. Luckily, my men and I escaped the turbulent waters and washed up on your shore.

NARRATOR: Without warning, the Cyclops lunged out, grabbing one of Odysseus’ men in each hand.

NARRATOR: With terrible speed, the Cyclops smashed the men against the hard walls, knocking them dead like pups. Something red oozed out of their heads as he ripped loose their limbs and gobbled them up, piece by piece. No bit of them was left behind.

_Odysseus’ remaining men pressed themselves against the back wall of the cavern.

NARRATOR: The Cyclops grabbed up a huge jar of milk and guzzled it—washing down the human flesh. Then he reclined upon his bed of sheep dung and fell fast asleep.

SHIPMATE ONE: Now’s our chance, Odysseus! Let’s plunge our swords into his unholy heart!

NARRATOR: Some of the men drew their swords and advanced. Odysseus threw out a hand of warning.

ODYSSEUS: Hold, men! Bottle up your anger, and think! If we kill this monster, we will die too. Only he is strong enough to move the boulder that blocks the way.

ODYSSEUS: Have courage. A solution will present itself. Have I not gotten us out of tougher scrapes than this?

NARRATOR: Odysseus and his men huddled against the back wall of the cave and watched the giant slumber peacefully until morning. Odysseus spent the night turning plan after plan over in his mind.

_When at last morning arrived, the Cyclops yawned, stretched as he rose, and began to milk his sheep. He did all of this without giving Odysseus and his men a second glance, as if he had somehow forgotten about their presence in his home. Yet when he had finished these chores, his hands flew out again and two more men met a horrible fate.

POLYPHEMUS: (laughing) What a fine meal you’ve provided me, strangers! I was growing sick of milk and cheese.

NARRATOR: Pushing back the boulder from the door, the Cyclops drove a group of his penned sheep into the sunlight. As he slid the rock back in place behind him, he jeered at the men.

ODYSSEUS: Surely Athena will give me a plan. Her wisdom has never failed me before.

NARRATOR: Odysseus sat down to think. He scanned the cave for something—anything—that he could use to defeat the giant. There were the wicker baskets that the Cyclops used to make his cheese, the piles of sheep dung, the jars of milk. Only one thing held any promise: an enormous club the Cyclops had fashioned from a tree. It lay against the side of one of the sheep pens. Odysseus drew nearer to examine it.

NARRATOR: Odysseus drew his sword and hacked at the club. Wood chips flew easily from it.

NARRATOR: Under the instruction of Odysseus, the men hacked at the club, planing it down into a thinner pole—one that would be more easily lifted. Odysseus himself fashioned the end, sharpening it into a deadly point.

ODYSSEUS: Now, hoist it up, lads. We’ll sear the end in the fire to make it good and hard.

SHIPMATE FOUR: Won’t the Cyclops see what we’ve done when he comes home?

ODYSSEUS: That’s why we’re going to hide it. Bury it beneath the dung here on the floor.

NARRATOR: When this was done, Odysseus rose with a pair of dice in his hands.

ODYSSEUS: Now we cast lots—to see who will be brave enough to wield this weapon with me.

NARRATOR: The lots were cast, and Odysseus breathed a sigh of relief, for the men they fell to were the very ones he himself would have chosen.

_Soon the grating of the boulder announced the return of the Cyclops. He drove in his whole herd this time and closed the entrance behind him. The cave was full of sheep. When he had once again performed his chores, he caught hold of two more of Odysseus’ men and ripped them into edible chunks.

POLYPHEMUS: Tastier and tastier you strangers become. (burp) What is this?

NARRATOR: Odysseus was advancing toward him, holding one of his huge bowls filled with a strange, dark liquid.

ODYSSEUS: Here, Cyclops. Try this wine. Top off your banquet of human flesh. Even if you do not honor the commands of the gods, we do. Here is a gift to you—as our host.

NARRATOR: The giant snatched the bowl from Odysseus’ arm and slurped its contents. He greedily smacked his lips and flung the bowl back at Odysseus, who had to duck to miss it.

NARRATOR: Odysseus’ men rushed with the skin of wine to fulfill his request.

NARRATOR: As he continued to drink, his eye grew dull and his words slurred.

POLYPHEMUS: (drunk) Tell me your name, friend. (hiccup) Where did you get this delightful nectar of the gods?

ODYSSEUS: My name is Nobody. That’s my name—Nobody. So my mother called me, my father, and all my friends.

POLYPHEMUS: A strange name, but you men from far away are strange. Here is my gift to you, Nobody. I will eat Nobody last of all of his friends.

NARRATOR: There was time for no more conversation, for the drunken Cyclops slumped over onto his side. When his head hit the floor, he vomited—wine with little bits of human inside. Odysseus and his men covered their noses from the stench of rotted flesh.

NARRATOR: The chosen men uncovered the sharpened pole, and Odysseus directed them to hold it in the glowing coals of the fire again to make it sure it would sear completely. Then, hoisting it high, they timidly made their way toward the sleeping giant’s head. His one eyelid flickered for a moment.

ODYSSEUS: Drive fast and hard, men. When you feel it penetrate, run and hide. He may kill us all in his madness if we do not. (shouting) Now!

NARRATOR: The men drove the point forward. The Cyclops barely had enough time to open his one groggy eye before the stake rammed into it. The eyeball burst, blood came boiling from around the point, the roots of the eye crackled, and a sickening sizzling sound filled the air.

NARRATOR: The giant wrenched the stake from his eye and flung it against the wall. One hand tore at his now-empty socket, while the other frantically swept the floor for his unseen enemies.

POLYPHEMUS: (growling) My eye! My eye! Nobody has done this to me! Nobody shall pay for this!

NARRATOR: As the Cyclops roared, running from side to side within the cave, groping madly about, Odysseus’ men covered their mouths to suppress their laughter.

ODYSSEUS: Not a sound, you fools! He’s still dangerous. We’re not out of danger yet.

POLYPHEMUS: Nobody! Hear my words! You and your miserable man-creatures might have blinded me—but my brothers live on this island as well. And you cannot escape their sight! They will heed my cries. They will come to my aid and crush your bones.

NARRATOR: The Cyclops fumbled for the boulder and rolled it away from the entrance. Then, falling upon his hands and knees in the threshold, he began to bellow:

CYCLOPS ONE: (distantly) What is the matter, Polyphemus? It’s the middle of the night.

POLYPHEMUS: Nobody—Nobody has tricked me. Nobody has harmed me. Nobody has taken my eye.

CYCLOPS TWO: Yes. If nobody has harmed you, you have nothing to worry about. (laughing) Stupid Polyphemus.

NARRATOR: The Cyclops sat firmly down, blocking the entrance. He extended his hands, blindly feeling either side of the cave mouth.

POLYPHEMUS: There is only one way in and out of this cave. You will have to crawl over me to escape. And when you attempt it, I will have you!

ODYSSEUS: (whispering) I have a plan for our escape. He will have to let the sheep out in the morning to graze. He probably plans to feel them as they walk by—to make sure they are sheep and not men. Cut some fibers from those robes over there and help me bind these sheep together.

NARRATOR: The men, who knew better than to question the mind of Odysseus, rushed to comply.

POLYPHEMUS: Quiet, my little ones. No need to be frightened. Soon these filthy man-creatures will be dead. Yes, then Polyphemus will have quite a feast.

NARRATOR: Three sheep were placed side by side and then lashed together. Odysseus and his men performed this task time and time again.

ODYSSEUS: One man will hang under the middle sheep. Then when the monster runs his hands over their fleece, he will not feel you.

SHIPMATE ONE: But Odysseus, we have no more rope. There’s not enough for your sheep.

NARRATOR: Odysseus turned to the nearby pen. Within was a large ram, the leader of the flock, covered in billows of fleece.

NARRATOR: By the time the rosy fingers of the dawn appeared in the sky, the sheep were bleating frantically. It was time for them to feed.

NARRATOR: The Cyclops rose from his spot, and the sheep—each tied to two others and bearing a man beneath—made their way between the giant’s legs. As they passed, he ran his hand along their fluffy coats.

NARRATOR: Clinging beneath the aged ram, Odysseus began to sweat. His weight was slowing the ram’s pace. At last he came beneath the shadow of the Cyclops, and the enormous hand descended.

POLYPHEMUS: Are you depressed by that filthy man-creature who has taken your master’s eye? If only you could speak, my ram, and tell me where that traitor is hiding, I would spill his brains for sure. Aye, that would do my heart good.

NARRATOR: His grip loosened, and the old ram continued its rambling gait out into the sunlight.

Odysseus saw that all of his men were free of their sheep. One man was sprinting down the hill toward the cape where the ship was moored.

ODYSSEUS: Men, let’s drive these sheep to our ship. We will get our guest-gift after all.

NARRATOR: Those men who had remained at the boat had feared the worst for their comrades and were thrilled to see Odysseus returning. Yet they were shocked to see how few of the original company returned. The sheep were driven onto the boat, and Odysseus at last took his place at the helm.

ODYSSEUS: Pull away from the shore! There’s plenty of time to tell the tale once we’re away! Shove off!

NARRATOR: The cave was visible up the hillside—the ridiculous form of Polyphemus hunching just inside. Odysseus could not resist one final jab.

NARRATOR: Polyphemus ran out of the cave, craning his neck to hear the voice once again.

ODYSSEUS: (shouting) What a blind fool! You tried to eat us up, but we escaped you. Zeus and all the gods have paid you back for your crimes, you piece of filth!

ODYSSEUS: Not Nobody, you fool! If anyone asks who has blinded you—what tiny man was able to defeat the mighty Cyclops—tell them it was Odysseus: Odysseus, son of Laertes, who did it! (laughing)

NARRATOR: At the sound of Odysseus’ true name, the Cyclops’ fury boiled over. He realized he had been had. Ripping loose a nearby hilltop, the Cyclops flung it toward the faraway sound of Odysseus’ voice.

NARRATOR: The hilltop hit close—too close—and the spray nearly knocked the men to the deck.

NARRATOR: Polyphemus fell to his knees and scratched the flesh of his face with his ragged fingernails.

POLYPHEMUS: Father Poseidon! God of the sea-blue mane! Master of the Earthquake, hear my cry! Odysseus has blinded me! If Polyphemus is truly your son, grant me my wish—never let Odysseus, son of Laertes, see his home again.

NARRATOR: The ground below the Cyclops began to shake—an underground cry of rage—and the seas around Odysseus’ ship churned.

NARRATOR: Despite the foreboding these words brought to Odysseus’ mind, he turned to comfort his men. No curse could stand between them and Ithaca. The ship sailed on, and soon the moaning of the Cyclops was lost among the sounds of the sea.

DISCUSS

How does Odysseus’ pride get the better of him?
What is Odysseus’ greatest weapon? Explain.

WRITE

Rewrite this encounter from the Cyclops’ point of view. Give Polyphemus a chance to explain his actions.

Creature Feature: Cyclopes

A Cyclops is a one-eyed giant whose title literally means “wheel eye." The Cyclopes (sy-klo-peez), which refers to more than one Cyclops, were the first children of Uranus (Father Heaven) and Gaea (Mother Earth). The parents, deeming the Cyclopes too hideous to ever see the light of day, chained them in the deepest part of the Underworld to rot for eternity and set out to create their second batch of children, the Titans. When the Titans gave birth to the gods, and the gods revolted against them, Zeus came to the rescue of the Cyclopes and freed them from their subterranean prison. In thanks, the Cyclopes fashioned Zeus an almighty weapon—the thunderbolt. They also created a trident (three-pronged spear) for Poseidon and a helmet of invisibility for Hades. With these weapons at their disposal, Zeus and the gods defeated the Titans and banished them into the depths of the Earth where the Cyclopes had once been kept. Polyphemus and his brothers are lesser creatures than the original Cyclopes and claim Poseidon the sea-god as their father. It has been theorized that the Greeks developed the concept of a one-eyed giant after discovering an elephant skull. The large central nasal cavity in the skull looks like an enormous eye socket.

Sing to me of the man, Muse, the man of twists and turns
driven time and again off course, once he had plundered
the hallowed heights of Troy.
Many cities of me he saw and learned their minds,
many pains he suffered, heartsick on the open sea,
fighting to save his life and bring his comrades home.
But he could not save them from disaster, hard as he strove . . .
Launch out on his story, Muse, daughter of Zeus,
start from where you will—sing for our time too.
(Homer, 800 B.C./1996, p. 77)

These lines begin the Odyssey—a 12,110-line-long epic poem, a pillar of Western literature, and a nearly 3,000-year-old adventure story. Almost everyone has heard of the Odyssey, a work referenced everywhere from the Odyssey minivan, to James Joyce’s novel Ulysses (Ulysses is Latin for Odysseus), to the common term odyssey, meaning a long journey. Although there are film adaptations, novelizations, and books like the one you are reading now that retell the Odyssey, the best way to experience the epic poem has been and always will be actually reading it. Unlike the Iliad (Homer’s other epic poem about the Trojan War), which can drag in places, the Odyssey clips along at a brisk pace and reads more like a modern novel—never failing to entertain. The poet Homer, just as he captured the nature of war in the Iliad, perfectly captures the excitement of a magical sea voyage:

Suddenly wind hit full and the canvas bellied out
and a dark blue wave, foaming up at the bow,
sang out loud and strong as the ship made way,
skimming the whitecaps, cutting toward her goal. (Homer, 800 BC/1996, p. 106)

Like the other veterans of the Trojan War, Odysseus sets out homeward for Greece from Troy, yet unlike the others, he spends 10 long years lost on the seas, tossed this way and that by Poseidon, held captive by supernatural females, and constantly hampered by the foolishness of his men.

The Greeks who lived after Homer analyzed his two great poems in and out. Even though they highly prized the human intellect, wily Odysseus was not necessarily their favorite character. Achilles and the other heroes of the Trojan War received top billing, and although Odysseus was noted for his wisdom, some criticized him for being cowardly. After all, even the Greeks had to admit that sneaking out of a wooden horse and slaughtering sleeping Trojans was not a noble way to win a war. And whose idea was that? Odysseus’. In fact, it was the Iliad, not the Odyssey, that earned a central place in Greek society as the text that defined what it meant to be Greek. Great men quoted its lines, treated its characters as real historical figures, and lived their lives according to its values. Young men were expected to learn whole passages by heart and recite them on command. Alexander the Great even slept with a copy of the poem under his pillow. In contrast, the Greeks viewed the Odyssey as an entertaining fantasy, the lesser work of a great author, but not the same instructional manual for being a man that the Iliad was.

Over the centuries, both poems have remained popular, but in the modern world the Odyssey has nudged its way ahead of the Iliad. It may be that people’s tastes have changed over time. The Iliad is all about war and death and glory; the Odyssey is about journeys, home, friendships, and family. Another possible reason for this preference change is the charm of Odysseus. Most people cannot easily identify with the Iliad’s protagonist Achilles, the world’s greatest warrior whose nymph-mother dipped him in the River Styx to make him invincible. After all, we are normal, vincible people. We may want to be Achilles, but we are more like Odysseus. Odysseus is an everyman, an ordinary character, and we can also identify with his mission. He is not on a quest to slay a monster, conquer a kingdom, or find a treasure; he is a tired, middle-aged man who just wants to return home to his family.

Modern audiences enjoy an underdog story. Odysseus is somewhat short, not the strongest, not the fastest, and definitely not the richest (his home in Ithaca is a simple place), yet his mind proves to be his greatest asset. Homer describes Odysseus as the “man of twists and turns." There is no mythological character who puts his mind to better use than Odysseus. As you know, Odysseus’ mind power triumphed over the Cyclops, a creature with more brute strength than you could shake a stick at (but maybe not “jam a stick into"). In a David-and-Goliath moment, Odysseus proves that the bigger they are, the harder they fall.

It is important to know at least something about the Iliad and the Trojan War before reading the Odyssey. Because the war spanned 10 years, the abbreviated play-by-play below is a bare-bones outline of the conflict:

• While visiting Sparta in Greece, Prince Paris of Troy elopes back to his homeland with Helen (the most beautiful woman in the world).

• King Menelaus, Helen’s husband, rallies all of the kings of Greece to cross the sea to Troy and get her back.

• During the war, Achilles is the greatest warrior for the Greeks, and Prince Hector (Paris’ older brother) is the greatest warrior for the Trojans.

• Shortly after, Prince Paris kills Achilles by shooting him in his only vulnerable spot, the heel. Paris is killed soon after.

• Odysseus and Ajax, Achilles’ cousin, argue over who should get Achilles’ amazing Hephaestus-made armor. Agamemnon, the commander of the united Greek army, decides that Odysseus should get it. Ajax is insulted and kills himself, but not before going insane and murdering a few cows.

• To end a war that still will not quit, Odysseus engineers the idea of the Trojan Horse.

• The Greeks pretend to sail away while Odysseus and a detachment of men hide inside the giant wooden horse that appears to be a tribute to the sea-god Poseidon.

• The Trojans discover the horse, take it for a god tribute, and wheel it inside the city so that it will bless them instead of the Greeks.

• The Greeks sneak out of the horse at night and completely annihilate the Trojans. Most of the royal family of Troy is murdered or taken into slavery. Helen is taken back to Greece by Menelaus.

By the time Odysseus encounters Polyphemus the Cyclops, he and his men have already made it through several obstacles on their ill-fated journey home. (It will eventually take Odysseus 10 years to get home. That makes 20 total years he’s been away: 10 at the Trojan War, 10 getting home.) One of these obstacles is the land of the Lotus Eaters, where all of the inhabitants eat of the intoxicating lotus plant and forget everything else.

Nine whole days
I was borne along by rough, deadly winds
on the fish-infested sea. Then on the tenth
our squadron reached the land of the Lotus-eaters,
people who eat the lotus, mellow fruit and flower.
We disembarked on the coast, drew water there
and crewmen snatched a meal by the swift ships.
Once we’d had our fill of food and drink I sent
a detail ahead, two picked men and a third, a runner,
to scout out who might live there—men like us perhaps,
who live on bread? So off they went and soon enough
they mingled among the natives, Lotus-eaters, Lotus-eaters
who had no notion of killing my companions, not at all,
they simply gave them the lotus to taste instead . . .
Any crewman who ate the lotus, the honey-sweet fruit,
lost all desire to send a message back, much less return,
their only wish to linger there with the Lotus-eaters,
grazing on lotus, all memory of the journey home
dissolved forever. (Homer, 800 BC/1996, p. 214)

The effect of the lotus flower is so addicting that Odyssey has to literally drag the men back to the ship and tie them to their rowing benches.

There are only two witches in all of Greek mythology. You have already met one, Medea; the second was her aunt, Circe, the daughter of the sun. When a party of Odysseus’ men go ashore on the island of Aeaea to scout for supplies, they discover Circe’s house, a villa circled by tame wolves and lions. The beautiful witch greets them kindly and invites them in. Her nymph attendants offer the men food and drink, and while they drink their drugged drinks, Circe touches them each with her wand—transforming them into pigs. One suspicious man who did not enter Circe’s house runs back to the boat to tell Odysseus what has happened.

Even though Odysseus has no idea how to save his men or keep himself from the same fate, he strikes out for the witch’s house. On his way, the god Hermes appears to Odysseus and gives him a magical herb called moly that will protect him from Circe’s transformative magic. When Odysseus arrives at the house of Circe, the witch greets him as she had previously greeted his men. A herd of swine has joined the tamed animals of the household. Circe offers him drink, which he takes, but before he drinks, he sprinkles the moly herb over it. The witch is amazed when Odysseus does not transform as she had expected. She is even more shocked when Odysseus draws his sword and threatens her with it. Realizing that the man before her must be beloved by the gods, the witch begs for mercy, promising to restore Odysseus’ men to their rightful forms. Instead of leaving the island, Odysseus and his men decide to stay with Circe and her nymphs for a time. Odysseus chooses to become Circe’s lover and remains on her island for almost a year.

DISCUSS

If Odysseus truly desires to reach his home (and his wife), why does he choose to stay on Circe’s island much longer than necessary?

MYTH-WORD

The word circle is closely related (according to some, derived from) Circe’s name.

At last Odysseus and his men tire of the continuous feasting at Circe’s house. Circe advises Odysseus that before continuing his journey, he must first sail to the border of the Underworld and consult the soul of Tiresias, a famed blind prophet. Following the witch’s suggestion, Odysseus sails to the very edge of the world, and going ashore on the unearthly ground he finds there, he digs a trench and sacrifices a ram and a black ewe so that their blood fills it to the brim. Sensing the fresh blood of the animals, ghoulish figures appear on the horizon—souls from Hades—and crowd in close around Odysseus’ offering. The silent spirits frighten the adventurer by pressing in so closely, and he swings his sword, warding them off from the blood until the soul of Tiresias arrives.

The blind prophet finally appears and comes forward to drink of the animal blood. Once he has done so, the soul of the prophet regains the power of speech. Tiresias tells Odysseus that he still has many more dangers ahead and will only reach his home when he regains Poseidon’s favor. He also comforts Odysseus by telling him that he will not die upon the sea.

After his prophecy has been delivered, Tiresias fades away and many more familiar faces from Odysseus’ past press forward and drink of the blood in order to tell their tales. The ghost of Agamemnon appears and tells his old friend how he died: The king had arrived home in Greece, only to be murdered by his wife and her lover. He tells Odysseus: “The time for trusting women’s gone forever" (Homer, 800 BC/1996, p. 265).

Achilles is there, too, among the dead, and Odysseus hails his mournful spirit by praising the honor the warrior won in life.

But you, Achilles,
there’s not a man in the world more blest than you—
there never has been, never will be one.
Time was, when you were alive, we [Greeks]
honored you as a god, and now down here, I see,
you lord it over the dead in all your power.
So grieve no more at dying, great Achilles. (Homer, 800 BC/1996, p. 265)

Achilles does not agree with Odysseus’ evaluation of his glorious life. It is better to be a slave and see the sun, the hero laments, than to be the greatest king in Hades. Achilles asks Odysseus pressing questions about his elderly father, Peleus, and his son, whom he never had a chance to see grow up. “Oh to arrive at father’s house—the man I was," the spirit of Achilles mourns, “for one brief day" (Homer, 800 BC/1996, p. 265). The warrior Ajax is there, too, behind his cousin Achilles. Odysseus tries to hail him, but Ajax refuses to speak. He still holds a grudge against Odysseus over Achilles’ armor.

The most shocking ghost Odysseus encounters is that of his mother, Anticlea, who has recently died of grief over her son’s absence. She tells Odysseus that his wife Penelope still waits for him and has not taken another husband. Three times Odysseus desperately tries to embrace his mother.

Three times I rushed toward her, desperate to hold her,
three times she fluttered through my fingers, sifting away
like a shadow, dissolving like a dream . . . (Homer, 800 BC/1996, p. 256)

Heartbroken and disturbed after conversing with many famous souls, Odysseus returns to his ship and sails back to Circe. The witch sets a course for him: He must first make it past the dreaded sirens, creatures whose song is irresistible. These creatures—whom no man has seen and lived to tell about—lure sailors to their island, never to return. To save Odysseus and his crew from this fate, Circe instructs Odysseus to plug the men’s ears with beeswax. The witch gives Odysseus further instructions about the obstacles he will face after the Sirens and sends him and his men on their way.

Now with a sharp sword I sliced an ample wheel of beeswax
down into pieces, kneaded them in my two strong hands
and the wax soon grew soft, worked by my strength
and Helios’ burning rays, the sun at high noon,
and I stopped the ears of my comrades one by one.
They bound me hand and foot in the tight ship—
erect at the mast-block, lashed by ropes to the mast—
and rowed and churned the whitecaps stroke on stroke.
We were just offshore as far as a man’s shout can carry,
scudding close, when the Sirens sensed at once a ship
was racing past and burst into their high, thrilling song:
“Come closer, famous Odysseus—[Greece]’s pride and glory—
moor your ship on our coast so you can hear our song!
Never has any sailor passed our shores in his black craft
until he has heard our honeyed voices pouring from our lips,
and once he hears to his heart’s content sails on, a wiser man.
We know all the pains that the Greeks and Trojans once endured
on the spreading plain of Troy when the gods willed it so—
all that comes to pass on the fertile earth, we know it all!"
So they sent their ravishing voices out across the air
and the heart inside me throbbed to listen longer.
I signaled the crew with frowns to set me free—
they flung themselves at the oars and rowed on harder.
Perimedes and Eurylochus springing up at once
to bind me faster with rope on chafing rope.
But once we’d left the Sirens fading in our wake,
once we could hear their song no more, their urgent call—
my steadfast crew was quick to remove the wax I’d used
to seal their ears and loosed the bonds that lashed me. (Homer, 800 BC/1996, p. 276-277)

DISCUSS

Why does Odysseus leave his own ears unplugged?
How is the test of the Sirens similar to the test of the Lotus Eaters?

ANALYZE

Homer does not describe the Sirens’ appearance, but later myth-makers described them as half-woman, half-bird creatures similar to the Harpies. Others said they were mermaid-like creatures. (In every case they were described as female.) How do you picture the Sirens? Is it more or less effective to leave their appearance ambiguous? Explain.

MYTH-WORD

Our word siren is derived from these mythological creature. In contrast to the mythic sirens, most modern sirens serve as a warning instead of bait for a trap and use a “song" that is shrill and loud instead of melodic.

Before the traveler leaves the witch’s isle, Circe warns Odysseus of a treacherous strait he must navigate. Two monsters live in this narrow seaway. Three times a day, a gigantic underwater monster, Charybdis, opens its gullet, sucking the surrounding waters into the vortex of its mouth. When the terrifying whirlpool subsides, Charybdis then sprays the consumed water high into the heavens, destroying whatever has fallen into its clutches. If a ship keeps close to the rocky edge of the strait in order to avoid Charybdis, it faces another monster named Scylla, a creature with six dog-faced, snake-necked heads, who picks sailors off the passing ships as an easy snack. Those who pass through the strait must choose between the twin terrors—between Scylla and Charybdis.

Odysseus sets sail. He and his men soon approach the strait that houses Scylla and Charybdis. They hear the roar of the whirlpool far away. Odysseus warns his men to row close to the shore. Although he plans to tell them of the threat of Scylla, he realizes that this would only terrify them further, so he keeps this knowledge to himself. The whirlpool monster appears ahead, sucking the sea down into its belly. The crew rows hard to shore, keeping the craft as close to the rocks as possible, avoiding the swirl of the current. As they do, Odysseus keeps his eyes on the cliffs overhead. He knows Scylla is lurking there. Perhaps they will escape her notice.

At that moment Scylla strikes. Six rowers disappear from their posts in the same instant. The crew, covered with their comrades’ blood, stare helplessly as the six terrifying heads of Scylla swallow her captives down raw, barely chewing with her razor sharp teeth. “Row! Row!" Odysseus yells. “Before the monster takes us all!" With one final burst of speed, the ship passes through the strait—beyond the reach of Scylla and Charybdis—and out of danger.

DISCUSS

Is it fair that Odysseus did not warn his men about the danger of Scylla?

FUNFACT

According to another myth, it was actually the sorceress Circe who was responsible for creating a monster out of Scylla, who had once been a beautiful maiden. Circe grew jealous of Scylla’s beauty and transformed the girl into a hideous beast.

MYTH-WORD

“Between Scylla and Charybdis" is a saying that refers to a challenging situation where there are two possible solutions and neither one is pleasant. This saying is similar to “between a rock and a hard place."

Circe had warned Odysseus that if he did in fact make it past the strait of Scylla and Charybdis, he would come to the isle of Helios, her father. Odysseus and his men should not harm the cattle they find there, for these were Helios’ cattle. If Odysseus and his men harmed them in any way, the gods would take revenge.

Once Odysseus and his men are through the perilous strait, the island of Helios comes into view. Odysseus knows they should simply sail on by, but his men beg him to stop. They are hungry and exhausted from the day’s work. He reluctantly agrees with a warning: “Do not touch the golden cattle of this land."

His men obey, and they camp on the island for the night. In the morning they find the winds blowing against them. Many days pass in this way; the wind continues to blow against their port, and they cannot sail. Supplies grow short, and Odysseus’ men begin to hungrily eye the shining cattle that graze on the nearby hillside. When Odysseus goes into the hills one day to call out to the gods, the men snap: They slaughter the cattle of Helios and cook their golden meat. Even on the spit, the cattle continue to moo, and the cuts shine as the men gulp them down. When Odysseus returns and sees what has been done, he knows they are all doomed.

Soon enough the winds stop, and the ship takes to sea, yet they do not sail far before a raging storm overtakes them. Helios has informed Zeus about the death of his cattle. As the black clouds boil overhead, the Lord of the Gods himself aims a thunderbolt at Odysseus’ tiny craft. In a spray of planks and salt water, the ship is destroyed. Men fly into the brine. Only Odysseus survives—clinging to the single surviving piece of his vessel.

DISCUSS

Do Odysseus’ men deserve to die?

ANALYZE

In a previous episode of the Odyssey, Odysseus and his men visit King Aeolus, an earthly king to whom Zeus has given the power of controlling the winds. As a present, King Aeolus traps into a bag all of the winds of the world—except one, the wind that will blow Odysseus and his men directly back to Ithaca. Odysseus keeps the bag of wind a secret from his men. They are almost back to Ithaca when Odysseus’ men steal the bag while he sleeps and, thinking that it must be filled with treasure, open it. All of the violent winds of the world are released in a fit of tornadic fury, and the ship is blown far off course. How is this episode similar to that with the cattle of Helios?

Shipwrecked and wave-tossed, Odysseus washes up on the beaches of Ogygia, the island of a “lovely-braided" sea nymph named Calypso. Enamored by the handsome mortal, Calypso takes Odysseus prisoner and keeps him as her lover for 7 years.

In the nights, true,
he’d sleep with [Calypso] in the arching cave—he had no choice—
unwilling lover alongside lover all too willing . . .
But all his days he’d sit on the rocks and beaches,
wrenching his heart with sobs and groans and anguish (Homer, 800 BC/1996, p. 157)

Even though Odysseus is living out a deserted-island fantasy with a beautiful female, he misses his wife, son, and home. At last the goddess Athena, Odysseus’ Olympian ally, appeals to her father Zeus for Odysseus to be freed from the nymph’s island and allowed to at last return home. Zeus agrees and sends Hermes to deliver the unpleasant news to Calypso: “Release him at once . . . steer clear of the rage of Zeus! Or down the years he’ll fume and make your life a hell." (Homer, 800 BC/1996, p. 156). The nymph responds indignantly, stressing the irony of the situation:

Hard-hearted
you are, you gods! You unrivaled lords of jealousy—
scandalized when goddesses sleep with mortals,
openly, even when one has made the man her husband . . .
You gods, you train your spite on me
for keeping a mortal man beside me. The man I saved,
riding astride his keel-board, all alone . . .
And I welcomed him warmly, cherished him, even vowed
to make the man immortal, ageless, all his days . . .
But since there is no way for another god to thwart
the will of storming Zeus and make it come to nothing,
let the man go—if the Almighty insists, commands—
and destroy himself in the barren salt sea! (Homer, 800 BC/1996, p. 156)

Calypso recognizes the double standard at work here; the male gods of Olympus can take lovers, even ruin their lives, but when the female deities do so, they are rebuked and their love destroyed. In spite of her indignation, she honors the will of Zeus. Odysseus at once begins work on a new ship, and when it is completed, leaves his immortal lover (and his own chance of immortality) behind.

To the Greeks, one of the most shocking things about the Cyclops Polyphemus is the fact that he was such a horrible host! It seems strange, but the Greeks held the obligations of a host to be most sacred. In the Greek religious system where there weren’t many laws to live by, “Thou Shalt Be a Good Host and Guest" was one of the few commandments. Zeus himself commanded it, and plenty of Greek myths tell about the horrors that befall those who murder or dishonor their guests. It was the duty of every host to give anyone, even complete strangers, a good meal, a warm bed, and in some cases, a guest-gift. In a time when there were no inns and many people traveled the roads on foot, this type of law ensured the safety of the traveler. If hosts violated their duties or guests dishonored their hosts, then they risked the wrath of Olympus. (So you can imagine how much wrath eating your guests would stir up!)

Part of Odysseus’ cleverness is that he defeats the Cyclops by performing his half of the guest-host relationship. Odysseus offers Polyphemus the strong wine as a return gift, a thanks-for-the-hospitality gift that guests often gave their hosts (even though the monster has given them nothing but cruelty). Polyphemus doesn’t catch on, and the Greeks—like us—feel no pity for him when he gets a red-hot stick jammed in his eye. He got what was coming to him for being such a horrible host.

In the next chapter, you will read about another violation of the sacred Greek host-guest relationship. The Odyssey shifts from Odysseus and his men to show what is happening to Penelope and Telemachus, his wife and son, in his absence. A group of suitors have shown up to Ithaca, Odysseus’ island kingdom. All of them want the hand of Queen Penelope—or more accurately, they want control of Ithaca. Everyone believes that Odysseus is dead, but Penelope holds onto the hope that he lives. To ward off the suitors, Penelope makes excuse after excuse. In the meantime, she must honor the host-guest tradition and provide them with lodging and food. The suitors, a bunch of impolite thugs, take advantage of her hospitality and basically hold the Ithacan household hostage. In contrast to Polyphemus, who was a horrible host, these suitors are violating the guest end of the bargain by their actions. Like the Cyclops, they may get what is coming to them, but you will just have to wait and see . . .