The Odyssey, Page 62

  BOOK 11

  1-137: So we launched our ship, and put the sheep aboard. and embarked, grieving. Kirke gave us a good tailwind . We rigged the tackle and sat down. We sailed all day: the wind and helmsman steered us. So we came to Ocean, near the Kimmerians' sunless realm. We beached the ship, unloaded the sheep, and advanced beside Ocean's stream till we reached the spot Kirke had described. Perimedes and Eurylochos held the victims while I dug a cubit-square pit, made libation three times, with milk and honey, wine, and water, then prayed to the dead with the promises Kirke had prescribed, including those to Teiresias (1-34). Then I took the sheep and cut their throats over the pit: the blood flowed, and the ghosts of the dead gathered from Erebos: brides, youths, careworn old men, battle-worn casualties still in their bloody armor, pressing in round the pit with eerie cries. I told my men to skin and burn the sheep that had been sacrificed, and to pray to Hades and Persephone. Then I drew my sword and wouldn't let the ghosts near the blood till I'd seen and questioned Teiresias. The first ghost was that of Elpenor, whom we'd left unburied in Kirke's house, with more pressing things on our minds. I asked him how he'd got there so fast, ahead of us. He said he'd been undone by some god and too much wine, had broken his neck and so come down to Hades. He now implored me, by my wife and son, to do right by him when we were back at Kirke's island of Aiaia. Burn me with my armor, he said, raise a burial mound, and fix my oar on top of it. All this I promised to do (35-80). The next ghost was that of my mother, Antikleia, still alive when I sailed for Ilion. I wept to see her, but still wouldn't let her near the blood before Theban Teiresias. But he, Teiresias, now came up, golden staff in hand, and he knew and addressed me, saying: Odysseus, why have you come down to this joyless place to look at the dead? Stand back from the pit, hold off your sword, let me drink the blood and speak the truth to you. So I stepped back and sheathed my sword. When he'd drunk the blood, he said: You want to know about your homecoming, Odysseus. Poseidon will make this hard for you: he is furious because you blinded his son. Yet you and your comrades may still make it home, through hardships, if, on the island of Thrinakie, you refrain from slaughtering the cattle and sheep of Helios. Should you harm them, you'll still reach Ithake, but after losing your ship and all your comrades, in a ship that's not yours, and find trouble at home--men devouring your possessions and courting your wife! You will take vengeance on them. When you've killed them, you'll still have to make a long journey abroad, carrying an oar, till you reach a land where men know nothing of the sea or ships, and don't eat salt with their food. A sign will be when you meet a man who thinks the oar you're carrying is a winnowing-fan. Then plant your oar in the ground, and sacrifice a ram, a bull, and a stud boar to Poseidon. Return home, and make lavish sacrifice to the gods. Death will come to you gently, from the sea, (see note ad loc.), when you've reached a comfortable old age and your folk are prospering round you. This is the truth I tell you (81-137).

  138-224: I said: The gods surely destined all this. But tell me this: my mother's spirit is sitting there, silent, near the blood, but isn't looking at me or speaking to me. How can she recognize me? He said: Easy: Those you let approach the blood will speak to you, those you don't will go back to Hades. Then he departed to Hades himself, having prophesied. I waited till my mother came and drank the blood. She at once knew me, and said: How did you get here while still living? It's a hard journey. Have you only now got here after much wandering from Troy? Have you not reached Ithake and seen your wife and son? (138-62). I said: Need brought me here, to hear Teiresias, prophesy. No, I've not yet got back home. But tell me, how did you die? Sickness, or Artemis' arrows? What about Telemachos and Laertes? Has some man usurped their control? And is my wife still in charge at home or has she remarried? My mother replied: Your wife remains true to you and laments your absence. No other man has yet taken your authority. Telemachos still holds your land and is accepted as a social leader. But Laertes stays out of town, lives meanly with his farmhands, misses you sadly, is getting old. And it was the same with me: I didn't die of sickness, no, but of longing for you (63-203). I tried to embrace her three times, but she slipped away like a shadow, and my grief grew. I said, why don't you stay for my embrace? Why can't we hug and lament? Is this some phantom, sent by Persephone? She said: No, this is how the dead are--no sinews left to hold the body together, fire destroys all, leaves only a shade, a dream! So hurry back to earth, and remember all this to tell your wife (204-24).

  225-332: So we talked. Then the wives and daughters of famous men came crowding up, but I drew my sword and only let in one at a time. I questioned them all. I saw Tyro, who loved the river god Enipeus and was seduced by Poseidon, who revealed who he was, and told her to care for the splendid children from their coupling, then plunged into the sea. She bore Pelias and Neleus to him and had other children. Then I saw Antiope, who said she'd been had by Zeus and bore him Amphion and Zethos, who built seven-gated Thebai. After her I saw Alkmene, Amphitryon's wife, who bore great Herakles to Zeus, and Kreion's daughter Megare, who wed Amphitryon's son, and Oedipus' mother, Epikaste, who in ignorance wed her own son, who'd likewise killed his own father. He was fated still to rule the Kadmeians, though she hanged herself. And I saw Chloris, who, as queen in Pylos, wed Neleus and bore Nestor, as well as Pero, whom Neleus would only let marry the man who drove mighty Iphikles' cattle from Phylake. The seer Melampos did it, but Iphikles imprisoned him until he'd told him all Zeus' oracles (225-97). And I saw Lede, who bore Kastor and Polydeukes, who live and are dead on alternate days; and Iphimedeia, who also claimed to have been had by Poseidon, and bore the Titans Otos and Ephialtes, huge beings that died young after warring against the Olympians and attempting to pile Ossa on Olympos and Pelion on Ossa, but Zeus' son by Leto killed them both before they were fully grown (298-320). And I saw Phaidre and Prokris and Ariadne, whom Theseus tried to bring from Krete to Athens, but she before that was killed by Artemis. And I saw Maira and Klymene and Eriphyle, bribed with a gold necklace to forfeit her husband's life--but to list all the women I saw would take all night, and it's now time for me to sleep, either back in the ship, or here (321-32).

  333-464: So he spoke, and they were all silent, spellbound. Finally, Arete said: Phaiakians, what do you make of this man? Looks, bearing, mind-set? He's my guest, so don't dismiss him, or stint your gifts to him! He's in need, and we have plenty to spare! Old Echeneos supported this, but reminded them that the last word was with Alkinoos, who then said: I agree: she's right! But our guest should stay till tomorrow, and get all his gifts. Odysseus said: If you wanted me to stay a year, and would then give presents and convey me, that too I'd agree to! I'd win more respect at home! Alkinoos said: We don't take you for the kind of lying tale-teller that abounds these days! You have real grace and style, like a minstrel. But tell me, did you meet any of your war comrades from Ilion? The night's still young, and I could listen to you till dawn. Odysseus said: There's a time for talk and a time for sleep. But if you want to hear, there's the still more pitiful story of those comrades of mine who survived the war but perished on their return through the wiles of a wicked woman (333-85). Now Persephone dispersed the ghosts of women, and up came the ghost of Agamemnon, surrounded by the ghosts of men who'd died with him in Aigisthos' house. He knew me, and reached out to me, but the old strength wasn't there, he was a shade. I wept for pity, and said: Agamemnon, how did you die? Shipwreck? Enemies on land, when you were lifting their cattle or battling for their cities and women? (386-403) He said: None of these. Aigisthos and my accursed wife killed me at a feast they gave for me. My comrades were slaughtered like hogs at a wedding feast. We lay there, and the floor ran with blood. Klytaimnestra killed Priam's daughter Kassandre as she clung to me, crying piteously. I died reaching out past Aigisthos' sword. My bitch-wife turned away, didn't even close my eyes or mouth as I died. Nothing more awful than a spouse-murdering wife! Shame on her! And I was looking forward to seeing her and my children again!(403-54). I said: How Zeus has used women's wiles t
o afflict the house of Atreus! First it was Helen, and now your wife! He then warned me, saying: So, never be over trusting, even of your own wife! Yet she'll not cause your death. Penelope is loyal and true. Remember how we left her, with a baby at her breast? You'll embrace them both when you get home! More than my wife let me do!

  But when you return, land secretly: there's no faith in women! And is my son still alive? Do you have news of Orestes? I said: Why ask me this? I don't know if he's alive or dead (455-64).

  464-540: Now the ghosts of Achilles, Patroklos, Antilochos, and Aias came up. Achilles said: Odysseus, how dared you come down among the phantoms of the dead? I said: I came to learn my future from Teiresias, whether he'll foretell my homecoming, for I'm still enduring sorrow and haven't got back yet, whereas no one's luckier than you, Achilles, then or now! We honored you when you lived, and now you rule the dead! He said: Never try to reconcile me to death! I'd rather be a day-laborer on earth than king of the dead! What news of my son? Did he become a war leader? Or of my father, Peleus? Do men disrespect him because he's old? If I had the strength that was mine at Troy, I'd soon pay out such men! (464-503). I said: No news of Peleus, but your son, Neoptolemos, was a great fighter. I brought him from Skyros. He was always among the foremost fighters, and killed many; his advice was always prompt and good. He distinguished himself in the Wooden Horse; and after the war he went off with his share of booty, the handsomest man there after Memnon. Achilles now strode off, glad that his son had done so well (504-40).

  541-640: The others asked about those dear to them--all except Aias, who stood apart, still wrathful with me because of the victory I'd won over him in the contest for the arms of Achilles. I wish now I'd never won, over so noble a man as Aias! To him I now said: Still furious with me even in death? The gods made those arms accursed! A tower of strength we lost in you! It was all Zeus' fault! Oh, come here and listen! But he said nothing, went on down to Erebos (541-68). Then I saw Minos giving judgment, and Orion herding wild beasts, and Tityos spread out hugely on the ground, vultures pecking at his liver, after his rape of Leto; and Tantalos standing in water amid fruit but unable to eat or drink; and Sisyphos hopelessly pushing that great rock up a hill (541-98). Then I saw mighty Herakles, glaring round, an arrow ready to shoot, who said to me, weeping: Are you suffering as I once did, laboring for a lower man than myself? Once he sent me to fetch the hound of Hades, and that I did, helped by Hermes and Athene. With that he went back into Hades. I was hoping to see others, such as Theseus and Peirithoos, but the eerie cries of the dead scared me: I was afraid Persephone might send the Gorgon's head against me. So I went down to the ship, and we embarked and set sail, back by Ocean's stream (599-640).

  BOOK 12

  1-72: When we returned from Ocean to Aiaia, we beached our ship and waited till morning. Then we went to Kirke's house to collect Elpenor's body and give it proper burial. We heaped up a burial mound and set his oar on the top of it, as he'd told us to. Kirke meanwhile welcomed us with food and wine, saying: Eat now, and tomorrow you'll set sail. I'll now tell you the route and its problems to save you from making unanticipated errors! We agreed. So we feasted that day. At night, when the others lay down to sleep, Kirke took me aside and made me tell her all that had happened. I did so (1-35). Then she said: Now listen to me. First, you'll come to the Sirens. Those who hear them never see their families again. They sit in a meadow among the rotting bones of their victims. Knead wax for your rowers' ears, and have them row on past the Sirens. But if you want to hear them yourself, make your men tie you to the mast and ignore your pleas to untie you. Next, you will have a decision to make. You'll come to a narrow strait. On the one side are the terrible Wandering Rocks: no ship but one, Jason's Argo, ever navigated through them, but all were wrecked; and Argo only made it with Here's aid (36-72).

  73-126: On the other side are two headlands, one with a high, permanently cloud-covered and unscalable peak. Halfway up is a cave, facing the dusk--the way you must steer. No man could shoot an arrow up from his ship that would reach that cave. In it lives Skylle, a yelping monster with twelve legs and six necks, on each neck a head with three rows of teeth. Up to the waist she's hidden in the cave; with her upper parts, she goes fishing for big creatures such as dolphins. No crew has ever got past her without her snatching a sailor from their ship (73-100). The other headland is lower (though they're within bowshot of each other), and there's a large leafy fig tree on it, and beneath is the whirlpool Charybdis, that thrice daily sucks in the water, and thrice spews it out again. Don't be there when she sucks it in! Nothing could save you! Instead, hug close to Skylle's headland and get past as quickly as you can: better to lose half a dozen rowers to Skylle than all perish. I asked her: Isn't there any way I could both escape Charybdis and stop Skylle from snatching my men? She said: Skylle's immortal: there's no defense against her but flight. Get past as fast as you can, and pray to her mother, Kratais. That at least will stop her making a second sweep at your men (101-26).

  127-225: Next, you'll come to the island of Thrinakie. On it are the cattle and flocks of Helios Hyperion: seven herds of each, and fifty head in each herd. These are immortal and don't breed. They are herded by nymphs, daughters of Helios and Neaira. If you leave these untouched, you'll be all right. But if you harm them, you'll lose your ship and all your comrades, and get home late and in trouble (127-40). By now it was dawn, and Kirke went back up the island. I went to the ship, roused my men, and we embarked and set sail. Kirke gave us a good tailwind. We sat and let the wind and helmsman steer us. Then I told the crew what I'd heard from Kirke about the Sirens: wax for their ears, and me tied to the mast. As we approached their island, the wind fell. We furled the sail and rowed. I cut up wax, warmed it, and put it in my men's ears. They then bound me to the mast. The two Sirens saw us, and sang, calling me to come to them, for they knew everything, on this earth, including the saga of the Achaians and Trojans. My men bound me tighter and rowed on (141-96). When we were out of earshot they removed the wax and untied me. But soon we saw spume and surf and heard a thunderous sound, and my men became scared and stopped rowing. I went among them, warned them of dangers greater than that from the Kyklops, but said we'd overcome these too. So, they were to sit firm and row fast, and hug the headland close, stop the ship being carried over to the other side. But I said nothing about Skylle, in case they panicked and stopped rowing (197-225).

  226-302: Now I forgot one strict command of Kirke, that on no account should I arm myself. I put on armor, and took two spears, and stood on the foredeck, thinking that thus I'd spot Skylle soonest. But I couldn't see her anywhere. So we sailed into the narrow strait. Skylle lurked on one side; on the other Charybdis sucked and spewed the water, with seething and bubbling and high spray, like a boiling cauldron, when she spewed, and a terrible roaring, with the exposure of the black muddy bottom, when she sucked. While we were dodging destruction from her, Skylle reached down and seized six of my men, all shrieking to me as she whirled them aloft, and devoured them, the most horrible thing I ever saw in my wanderings (226-59). When we got clear of Skylle and Charybdis, we soon reached Helios' island. I heard the cattle lowing while still at sea and remembered Teiresias' warning. I said to my men: Both Teiresias and Kirke told me to avoid terrible danger at Helios' island, so row on, don't land there! Eurylochos said: You're iron-hearted, Odysseus! We're worn out and sleep-starved: here we could land, make a good supper, and rest. But you're making us wander on into the night! And we might well be wrecked by a gale! No, let's put in here, and we'll be rested for tomorrow. Everyone agreed, and I realized some god had it in for us. I said: I'm one man, I can't argue with you all. But swear a great oath that you won't kill any sheep or cattle on the island, but make do with the food Kirke gave us (260-302).

  303-453: They swore the oath. We moored near a freshwater spring and disembarked. We made our supper. Then, after weeping for the comrades we'd lost to Skylle, the men bedded down. Late in the night Zeus sent a great storm. In the
morning, we dragged our ship ashore and into a cave. I repeated my warning about not touching Helios' cattle. But an east wind arose, and for a month we got nothing but strong east and south winds. When all our stores were eaten, my men tried fishing and fowling but were near to starving. I went up the island and prayed to all the gods for a way out, but all they did was put me to sleep (303-38). Meanwhile, Eurylochos addressed the men, saying: Starvation is the most wretched kind of death. Let's drive off the best cattle of Helios! If we ever get to Ithake, we'll build Helios a fine temple! If he's angry with us and wrecks our ship, I'd rather drown quickly than have a lingering death from starvation! They agreed, and they drove off the cattle. Then they sacrificed and roasted them (339-65). Coming back after I woke, I smelt the cooking meat. Zeus, it was to my ruin that you lulled me asleep, I cried. The word soon reached Helios that his cattle had been slaughtered. He addressed the gods, saying: Zeus and you other gods: Take revenge on Odysseus' comrades who slew my cattle! If they don't requite me in full, I'll stop shining on earth and go down to Hades! (339-83). Zeus said: Helios, don't stop shining on gods and men! I'll blast their ship with a thunderbolt, shatter it to bits! (This I heard from Kalypso, who said Hermes had told her.) When I got to the ship, I cursed my men, but it was too late, the thing was done, the cattle were dead. There were portents: the hides crawled, the meat bellowed on the spits, there was a sound of lowing. Six days my crew feasted on Helios' cattle. On the seventh, the wind dropped, and we went aboard and sailed. But when we were out of sight of land, Zeus sent a fearful tempest. The mast fell and killed the helmsman. A thunderbolt followed, shattering the ship and hurling the crew overboard. I straddled mast and keel, and was carried off by the gale (384-425).The wind shifted to the south, and I was carried back to Skylle and Charybdis. I sprang up and clung like a bat to that fig tree, but couldn't get a grip anywhere, so waited till Charybdis spewed up keel and mast again, and rode them. On the tenth day, I reached Kalypso and Ogygia. That's where I started my story yesterday (426-53), so I'll stop there for now.