The Greek Myths

by Robin Waterfield

  “No one was home when we reached the cave. All around us were young sheep in their pens, separated by age, bleating for their mothers to come from the pastures. Soon they arrived, udders swinging from side to side with the weight of the good milk inside. Their master followed, whistling and clicking his tongue at them in the language they understood, and we caught our first sight of the hideous features of the Cyclops, with one huge eye filling the space above his nose. Once the entire flock was inside the cave, he rolled a massive boulder across the entrance to the cave. We were trapped! Then he took each ewe aside and milked her, before letting the lambs suck.

  “When he caught sight of us inside his cave the creature roared with displeasure. The men were panicking, but I strode forward and confronted the Cyclops. I said that we were survivors from a shipwreck, throwing ourselves on his mercy in the name of Zeus, patron of suppliants. He replied that he cared nothing for men’s rules of hospitality or even for the gods themselves. He proceeded then to scoop up two of my men and eat them, washing his gory meal down with buckets of fresh ewe’s milk. We cowered in horror at the ghastly sight, and were sickened by the sound of our friends being crunched in his mouth. If we didn’t escape soon, none of us was going to make it back to the ship.

  “Just before dawn, the Cyclops rolled the gigantic stone away from the entrance to the cave. He scooped up two more of my men for breakfast, and washed the vile meal down with milk, before going about his chores. He released the sheep from their folds and herded them outside, but blocked the mouth of the cave with the stone as he departed. We were trapped for the day.

  “In the Cyclops’ absence, we searched for some means with which to defend ourselves. Lying in the sheep pen was a long beam as broad as a tree trunk. We cut a section of this and sharpened one end to a fine point. We thrust that end into the fire, turning and hardening it in the blazing coals. Soon we had a weapon and a picked team to hoist the stake and help me thrust it home, into that single great eye in the forehead of the Cyclops. But we still needed to get past the massive stone in the entrance.

  “In the evening, when the sun began its slow descent, the Cyclops returned. He rolled away the stone and herded the ewes back inside, milking them and placing them with their young, as on the night before. He scooped up two more men for his gruesome supper. I stepped forward quickly with the great flask of wine before he could gulp the milk. I offered him a bowl filled to the brim with the sparkling liquid, and he drank deeply. He held out his bowl for more and asked me my name. ‘I’m Nobody,’ I told him as I refilled his bowl. He gulped it eagerly and took more again, bowl after bowl until he passed out on his side by the fire.

  “We sprang as one to the stake we had prepared and raised it up. We lunged forward as if we stood before the gates of a great city with a battering ram, determined to break open the bronze doors. The point sank through the giant’s closed eyelid and deep into the orb, sizzling like roasting fat when it runs off the skin of a spitted piglet onto the glowing coals below. The monster shrieked in anguish, so loudly that his neighbors, some distance away, called out in concern. ‘What’s the matter?’ they cried, and Polyphemus shouted back that ‘Nobody’ had attacked him, and so they left him alone to his fate.

  Odysseus and his men thrust the stake into Polyphemus’ giant eye.[82]

  “Our escape was not yet assured, and despite the searing pain of his blinded eye the monster squatted down at the mouth of the cave, hoping to catch us one at a time by feel as we tried to sneak past. But I conceived a plan to save us all. I ordered the men to grab some sheep from the surrounding pens. I lashed three sheep together for each man, burying the rope deep in their shaggy hair. The men clung on to the woolly undersides of the middle sheep, and were protected from the Cyclops” groping hands by the other two. I myself gripped for all I was worth to the underside of a huge ram. It worked! The suffering Cyclops suspected nothing as the beasts ambled from the cave, and continued his torrent of threats against us as if we were still inside.

  Odysseus clung to the underside of a great ram to escape Polyphemus’ wrath.[83]

  “Once we had cleared the cave, I untied the men from the sheep and we drove the herd down to the ship. As we headed back to the islet where we had left our companions, I hurled insults back at the Cyclops, igniting his rage. He tossed a boulder which landed near the bow, and its wave nearly washed us back to the point from which we’d set off. But the oarsmen cut the water with a will and we were soon out of range. I hollered back my true name as we sped away, and Polyphemus bellowed after us, calling down upon me the wrath of his father Poseidon. And Poseidon heard his son’s curses, and has tormented me ever since.

  “We rejoined our comrades. After dividing the herd fairly among the men, we made a sacrifice of the great ram which had carried me safely from Polyphemus’ cave, thanking Father Zeus for our lives and imploring all the gods for safe passage across the moaning sea. A great feast was prepared there on the shore near the ships, and we partook of the fine meats and fragrant wine until fatigue overcame us and we lay down to sleep. As rosy-fingered dawn began to glow gently in the east we set sail, hoping for the best.”

  Aeolus, the Laestrygonians, and Circe

  “Over and over again, in our joy at escaping from Polyphemus’ cave, we regaled one another with tales of the exploit. Next we made land on the floating island ruled by Aeolus, steward of the winds, whose six sons are married to his six daughters. On Aeolia there is unceasing feasting and celebration, day and night, and we were lavishly entertained in the palace for a month. When we left, Aeolus generously bestowed upon me a leather bag containing the swirling powers of the storm winds, so that only fair breezes might speed our voyage. Refreshed and hoping for the best, we set sail with gentle Zephyrus blowing astern.

  “But my men snooped in the cargo hold, eager to see for themselves if I might be concealing some fabulous gift given me by Aeolus. The fools discovered the great leather bag. They unwound the silver thong that sealed the sack, releasing with a great rush all the winds trapped inside. The storm that arose buffeted the ships back the way we had come. We found ourselves once more on the shores of Aeolia, but our welcome this time was not so warm. Aeolus blasted us with cold words, refusing further assistance to men who were so clearly out of favor with the immortal gods. So once more we set off, this time with heavy hearts.

  “For a week we sailed steadily on these strange seas, until we came to the land of the Laestrygonians, where the coastline forms a secure and well-sheltered haven for ships. The other vessels in our company sailed straight in, but I moored my ship outside the harbor mouth, and sent three men on ahead to discover what kind of people dwelled there.

  “It soon became clear that this was not a hospitable place. As soon as my men encountered the chieftain of the Laestrygonians, the mountainous man made his hostile intentions plain by snatching up one of them to be put aside for dinner. For the Laestrygonians were vile and gigantic cannibals. In shock and horror the remaining two men sped away from the place and sprang back aboard my ship. But the other ships were trapped in the harbor, and the Laestrygonians pelted them with boulders that they tossed as easily as a child skips a stone across the still surface of a lake. In the blink of an eye my crew was rowing with a will away from that cursed place. But we were the only survivors; all the other ships were lost. We sailed on, mourning our lost comrades, terrified lest fresh disaster strike.

  “Next we came to Aeaea, Circe’s isle. After beaching the ship on the shore, we ate and rested, and then I detailed my best men to investigate the area. The rest remained with me, to guard the ship and be ready to take to the sea in case of danger. We didn’t have to wait long before Eurylochus, the leader of the reconnaissance party, burst from the trees and ran down to the beach.

  “Pale and quaking with fear, he answered our anxious questions. The scouts had come upon a villa in a clearing of the wood. Strangely, there were wild beasts rendered tame, lions and wolves, wandering about the grounds. Th
ey wagged their tails and approached the men like dogs who greet their master after a long absence. From within the house they heard a sweet voice singing. They called out to the occupant and a beautiful woman emerged. It was the witch Circe, daughter of Helios and sister of Aeëtes, ruler of Colchis. The sorceress welcomed the new arrivals and offered them hospitality. All but Eurylochus heeded her friendly summons and entered. But none came out.

  “At this fresh disaster I grabbed my sword and made for the clearing Eurylochus had described. Near the villa a stranger crossed my path. It must have been a god, perhaps Hermes, for he offered good advice. He told me to beware of the food and drink that Circe would offer me as her guest. They were tainted by a potion that was designed to transform men into beasts. He gave me a dose of moly, a special antidote to the witch’s evil brew. Then clever Hermes, if that’s who it was, told me how to get the sorceress to release my men from her magic spell. I took his advice to heart and made my way through the trees to Circe’s villa. What I saw there shocked me to the point of despair.

  “My good comrades were all together. They were penned into a sty, and all had been transformed into pigs. They rooted and snuffled the ground, or rolled in the soft mud, grunting and squealing. But clearly they still retained their wits, because when they caught sight of me they raised a terrific din in their attempts to warn me off, or to plead for their release. With anger in my heart I strode forward and called out to the occupant of the house.

  “The radiant Circe emerged and bid me welcome. She led me to a chair, and offered me a golden cup. It contained her potion, of course, but I had taken the antidote, so with an internal smile I drank it down. She was astonished that it had no effect upon me. Following Hermes’ advice, I drew my sword and made as if to strike her, and she cowered in fear and confusion. Seeming humble and submissive, she invited me to her bed—another trick, for she bound men with her sexual charms, but Hermes had told me what to do. After making her swear that she would play no more tricks, I happily accepted her invitation, for it was only if she was sexually satisfied that she would release my men.

  Hermes supplied Odysseus with an antidote to Circe’s magic potion.[84]

  “After we had enjoyed the sweet delights of love, she reversed the spell cast upon my men, and they were restored to themselves. As soon as the men back at the ships learned the good news, they joined us. We remained for a year on Circe’s isle as her welcome guests. And the lovely nymph and I found comfort together, but never did her charms erase from my heart the memory of my own dear wife Penelope, or my longing to be reunited with her.

  “The men too began to yearn once more for their homes, and I appealed to Circe for aid in our time of need. The sorceress revealed to me what she knew of the trials that lay ahead for us. I and my men were to journey to the underworld, the dark realm where the shades of the dead pass eternity. Once there I was to question Theban Teiresias, who alone of all who dwell in Hades’ halls retains his wisdom unimpaired. As I lay beside her in the soft bed, the beautiful witch told me how I was to summon the dead so that the seer would approach and tell me all I needed to know.

  “When shining-haired Dawn arose in the east I called my men together in the hall of Circe’s villa and announced our departure. There were shouts and laughter as the men made ready, gathering their gear and preparing to return to the ship beached on the shore. One of my men was on the roof, sleeping off the several flagons of wine he had consumed the night before, and he woke unsteadily to the noise below. Bleary-eyed and off balance, unlucky Elpenor fell from the roof and broke his neck. My comrades and I knew nothing of it, so we left him behind when we departed. His body lay there, unburied and unmourned, with his shade lingering uneasily at the edge of the underworld.”

  The Underworld

  “Divine Circe called forth a following wind as her parting gift, and we cut a wake through the foam-topped swell. I gathered the men on deck and announced our destination. They responded with exclamations of disbelief and fear, their hopes of heading straight for home dashed in a moment. Were we really sailing for the ends of the world and the home of the dead? But we remained true to the course I set and at last arrived on the far western shore of the great Ocean which encircles the world. The men and livestock disembarked, and I chose a ram and a black ewe that Circe had added to our stores, elements of the ritual necessary for calling up the shades of the dead.

  “When we reached the place the witch had described, I knelt down and with my trusty sword carved a shallow trench. Into it I poured the proper libations of honey, milk, wine, and water. I sprinkled white barley over all, and made prayers and invocations. I slit the throats of the victims, and the blood flowed into the narrow trench and sank down into the thirsty earth. Instantly the place was swarming with the insubstantial spirits of the dead, agitated by the presence of the blood and greedy to partake of it. But I held them back with my brandished sword. In the meantime my men went about the business of preparing the sheep and ram for sacrifice as burned offerings to fearsome Hades and august Persephone, dread rulers of the underworld.

  Hades and Persephone rule the dead, yet they also govern the cyclic renewal of life.[85]

  “The first of the dead to approach me was unlucky Elpenor, my own comrade who had lately fallen from the roof of Circe’s house. I exclaimed in surprise at the sight of him, and after he had told me his sad tale I promised to return to Circe’s isle and see to his burial.

  “Just then the Theban prophet Teiresias approached. He recognized me, and when he had drunk the blood he revealed for me a homeward voyage filled with yet more dangers. Poseidon would dog my trail, intent on revenge for the blinding of his son, the Cyclops Polyphemus. In forbidding tones he warned me to control my men, especially when we came to Thrinacia, where the cattle of the all-seeing sun graze the wide green pastures of that island.

  “As if all this weren’t bad enough, the seer went on to tell me that my arrival home, after so many years of suffering and homesickness, would also be fraught with trouble. My home had been invaded by a band of insolent young nobles, eager to consume my wealth and woo my queen. He predicted that I would set things right in the end and there would be a reckoning for the suitors, but warned that my wanderings would not be over even then.

  “In order finally to appease the wrath of Poseidon, he told me, I was to travel far, carrying with me an oar, seeking a people who knew not the sea. I would come to a place where the oar was identified as a winnowing shovel by some unknowing soul, and there I was charged to erect a shrine to the earth-shaker.

  “Only then could I make my way safely home. The one piece of good news he shared with me was that I would meet my life’s end in great old age, at my own hearth, surrounded by my loved ones. Then he departed, making his way back through the crowds of mirthless dead.

  Teiresias drank the sacrificial blood while Odysseus fended off the ghosts.[86]

  “I saw the shade of my beloved mother Anticlea, and she spoke briefly with me. I had not known she was dead. Though I wanted desperately to hold her in my arms, just once more, my hands grasped nothing but the insubstantial air, and her ghost moved away finally to join the other wandering shades. Other great women and men approached, and after I let them taste of the blood, they spoke to me.

  “Of those who addressed me it was Agamemnon, son of Atreus, who came forward first. He shared with me the tragic story of his homecoming, how his scheming wife Clytemestra and her lover Aegisthus murdered him in his own bath, before the oars of his black ships had even begun to dry. And he told me how they took the life of ill-starred Cassandra, his war-prize, and killed all his loyal companions too. The once-great king held my eyes and warned me to approach my home shores secretly, even in disguise, and not reveal myself until I knew what I was facing. I took his advice to heart. For some time we stood together, though separated by the shallow trench of dark blood, and we reminisced over lost comrades-in-arms, many of whose shades milled about before me, anxious to drink and exchange wo
rds with a living man.

  “There was Ajax of Salamis, who still begrudged me the arms of Achilles, and refused to speak to me. The Greek heroes Antilochus and Patroclus drew near, and then Achilles strode forward and took a sip. Recognizing me, he demanded to know what tricks I was up to now, making my way to the underworld while still a living man. Was this not the crowning exploit for any hero? ‘Not so,’ I replied. ‘For no one is recognized as a greater hero than you. You were admired as the greatest of the Greeks in your lifetime, and now you have high honor among the dead.’

  “But Achilles replied in sorrow that he would prefer to be a peasant laborer in the world above than king of the listless dead. Nevertheless, I was able to console him somewhat with news of his son, Neoptolemus. With words that cheered the mournful shade I described to Achilles the bravery of his son at Troy. At the end of the war, with his plundered wealth loaded into his ships he set sail from the wind-swept shores of Troy, and made for the Thessalian coast. There, on the advice of Thetis, he burned his ships and continued over land for home. As far as I know, I told him, he rules now in Phthia, home of the valiant Myrmidons. Achilles’ shade thanked me for my words and strode proudly off, a new spring in his step.

  “I saw too the ghosts of others, famous or infamous. There was Tityus, who paid a dear price for lusting after Leto. His vast bulk is lashed to the ground, and there, with arms outstretched he exposes his belly to the vultures that daily peck away at his liver. Tantalus too I spied, tempted as he is unceasingly by food and drink that remain forever out of reach. Cunning Sisyphus of Corinth was there, laboring at his endless task, a punishment for his transgression against the immortal gods. For it is a fool who takes the gods in heaven lightly.