From Telemachus, With Love

Father,

I forgive you all our years apart. I blame you not. I have read your adventures and misfortunes and indeed wept along too for your sorrows. Mother has told me so much of you and has not given up hope that you will return to us safely.

Yet even now she is in danger, father. Your household is overrun by vile men who would steal your wealth, your estate and your wife from you! Mother has bought some time - she has said that she must finish her weaving before she can consider remarriage. She weaves a little each day and then undoes her hard work each night. She is as cunning as you, father. But it will not take the wretched suitors much longer to see through her strategy.

Mother's Cunning Strategy
(http://www.betterlivingthroughbeowulf.com/penelope-weaver-and-novelist/)

Where are you now, oh my father? Are you still at the isle of Calypso? Did you not say that you longed to see us again? I long to lay eyes on you, my famous and heroic father of nimble wits. Father, I assure you, your homecoming would bring me immense joy! I would rejoice at your return. I pray you, oh my father, do not delay! Drive these parasitic suitors from your household and save your wife. We can be a family again, even after all these years!

We need you home, Odysseus my father.

I need you.

Assorted Misadventures

Dearest son,

I am weary. I haven't written to you for many months and I fear the words of Polyphemus hold true - my voyage has been cursed and I know not when I will be able to return. I am not the man I was when I left Troy, but a mere reflection of my former self.

There is too much for me to tell, so many sorrowful tales. I cannot write it all down, for to think of it will make me weep with regret, sadness and shame. I will try to tell you as much as I can, and maybe I will give you a full account when… that is, if I return.

Soon after we fled Polyphemus, we came to the island of Aeolus, the Lord of the Winds. He offered us a bag filled with the four winds that would blow our fleet home. With the winds we were brought within sight of Ithaca. I wept for joy and the fears I had felt almost melted away. We were within reach of Ithaca's fair harbour, but the greed of my men overcame them! Thinking that Aeolus' bag of winds contained something as trivial as wine, they opened it and we were swept back to Aeolus' island. He refused to lend us any more aid.

Our fleet came next upon the island of the Laestrygonians, a race of savage giants. They hurled boulders at our ships from the top of towering cliffs. All but my own ship and crew were destroyed by their assault. We mourned our companions, but could do no more than that, we were so helpless.

Circe's Sorcery
(http://www.necessaryprose.com/vases.htm)

Have you ever heard of the sorceress Circe? She lives on the island of Dawn, where we found ourselves next. I sent out a scouting party to search the island and cautioned them to be weary. The sorceress met them and enchanted them with her beauty. She invited them to sup at her table, but the food was infused with magic and they turned into swines.

Meanwhile, I grew impatient waiting for them and ventured into the island myself to locate them. I was met by Hermes, the god of travellers. He warned me of the trickery of the sorceress Circe, whom I would find on the island and gave me moly to eat so that I would not fall prey to Circe's magic. When I met the woman, I did as he bade me and demanded her to return my companions to their human forms. "Brave and cunning one," she said to me in honeyed tones. "I will do as you say, but only if you will become my lover." It was a steep price, I swear, my son. Nevertheless, I was obliged to accept her terms. I had already caused my faithful men much suffering and could not condemn them to this fate.

Accordingly, she reversed her spell on my men. They appeared even younger than they had been when she enchanted them. When they saw me, they ran forward and clutched my hands. Circe was greatly moved and invited us to haul up our ship and rest with her on her island for as long as we willed. The men that remained on our ship were as glad to see me return safely as if they were walking the soil of fair Ithaca once more. Only my crewman and kinsman Eurylochus objected  to coming into the home of Circe. He pointed his finger at me and cried, "Do you seek a witch's help to cause us even more suffering? It was your reckless folly that led our friends to their deaths at the hands of Polyphemus, Odysseus!"

The others of the crew stopped me from killing Eurylochus then and there. They suggested that he be left to guard the ship, but he relented and followed us in the end.

When we returned to Circe' household, she bade us forget the struggles we had faced and to strengthen and renew our hearts with food and drink.

Nevertheless, my heart throbbed within me and tears streamed from my eyes for the land I have not seen for many years, nigh on twelve, or so I thought for I had lost count of the winters. In my homesickness, I begged fair Circe to tell me how I might return to Ithaca, my kingdom. She was reluctant to advise me, but eventually I swayed her.


"You must seek Teiresias, the seer," she told me. "You must venture into the realm of the dead, into Hades, and ask of Teiresias the manner in which you may appease Poseidon, whose wrath you have stirred against you by the maiming of his son, Polyphemus."

I followed her instruction and journeyed into Hades, where there is much pain and suffering. I cannot bring myself to tell you of all the dead comrades and fellow warriors from Troy that I saw in those depths. It saddens my heart to think of them, so forgive me for omitting these from my letter. I will tell you that I met with Teiresias and he advised me as I had asked, although his words held grim warnings. I heard that you were safe and well, which cheered my heart, and that your mother has kept faithful to me, although she has had many an opportunity to turn away.

The Sirens' Tempting Song
(http://www.necessaryprose.com/vases.htm)

With a deeper pain in my chest than I had harboured when I entered Hades, I returned from it and to Circe. She told me how to get passed the Sirens, which I would have to pass on the next leg of my journey. The Sirens are creatures of the sea that lure men from their course with songs of knowledge.

I had my men tie me to the mast of the ship and they plugged their ears with wax. No matter how tempting the Sirens' songs, none of us could be allowed to fall victim. When we neared the Sirens, the ocean stilled so that not even the waves would drown out the melodies of the creatures. Circe's advice served us well, however, and we managed to pass this danger safely.

Not long after, once we were safely away from the Sirens, we had to guide our ship through a strait where there dwelt Scylla (a hideous and brutal sea monster) and Charybdis, who swallows ships and men into the depths of the sea. The waters of Charybdis swirled and frothed, boiled and tugged at the ship. We were terrified and tried to avoid the deadly mouth that seemed to open into the depths. As we fought against Charybdis, Scylla pounced and snatched up in her hands six of my strongest men. Artemios was among them, also Perimedes. They screamed my name in desperation, shrieked it in their agony. But I could do nothing! What do all my great deeds amount to when I cannot even save my friends, Telemachus? What could my fame buy me now? Scylla devoured them, still shrieking, and I covered my face with my hands. It was the most piteous thing I have seen in all my years, Telemachus - the demise of my friends, my brave and stalwart comrades.

Still mourning the loss of Artemios, Permiedes and the others, we came to the island of the shining Sun-god, Helios. Now, I had been told by Teiresias that I and my men would still have a chance of returning home if we avoided harming Helios' great herd of cattle. I was aware that we had to keep our hearts set on home and turn not from our path, but I was weary and fell into slumber. While I slept, my starving men slaughtered some of the cattle and ate. Outraged, Zeus struck our ship with a mighty thunderbolt. Our craft splintered and my men - oh, my friends and brothers! - perished. I alone was left alive, clinging to a beam of wood. I came again to Charybdis, but narrowly avoided being swallowed into its wicked depths.

Alone, heart-broken and in despair, I washed ashore onto this island on which I now rest. This is the island of the Nymph Calypso and she  has made me her lover also.

And yet I pine for Ithaca. I long to see her vineyards and fields, her city walls. I yearn to see Penelope, your mother, come out to me, arms held wide. I can barely imagine what you must look like now, my son, but you are far from the child I left so many years ago. I find myself with little hope that I should return now. Not while Poseidon, the Earthshaker, still bears ill-will towards me for blinding his son. But then again, I understand his pain as a father. It catches in one's chest and tears at one's heart. I would not live in the finest palaces or on the most beautiful of islands for a thousand years if I could have the chance to see you again, at least once.

I have striven to guide you and offer you wisdom from afar, but I fear that I have no more wisdom and courage myself. So pray tell me, my son, ought I to return? Would you rejoice to see me? Would it not be best for me to die here than to risk suffering more than I already have? Your once-great father is old and I fear that my strength has all but left me. But, Telemachus, if you were to assure me that my home-coming could in some way bring you joy, why, I would face any danger left in my path to reach you.

Dear son, I am not certain if I have ever told you these things so plainly - I love you, my precious, precious Telemachus.

The Worst Host Polyphemus

Every day I think of you, Telemachus. Sorrow upon sorrows! As I told you before, oh my son, I have indeed met many misfortunes. I pray you to forgive me the days we are apart, although I find little hope that I could ever make this pain of separation easier to bear.

When last I wrote, I related the tale of the languid Lotus-Eaters, who do no toil and live only to gorge themselves on the dream-fruit of the lotus. Once I looked upon these men in disdain, but now I only pity them. They are not so deserving of disgust as the repulsive monster that my crew and I met next.

The night was murky with a heavy fog. The silver sheen of the moon barely pierced the mist and the stars were obscured. We could not navigate with any ease. The cloud of fog veiled the island so that we could not see it and only knew of it when our keel grated gently against its shore. Thank the gods we were not cast upon the rocks on that night and the seas were fair, though it was a small mercy. Our good fortune that night did not hold even through the next few days.

We awoke with the rosy light of dawn, the sun's fingers stroking the clouds and bathing the sea in its red glow, as if an omen of the blood that would stain us if we lingered - a warning we did not heed.

Free ranging flocks of goats grazed further inland and it pleased us to kill some for our stores. We became aware of the signs of the island's inhabitants throughout the day - we heard the clamour of deep voices and saw the tendrils of grey smoke wafting up into the sky.

"Come," said I to the men of my own ship, who had been with me for these ten years. "Let us discover more about these people. Maybe they will offer us aid and welcome us. And even if they are not so hospitable, are we not men? Should the risk of danger hinder us from undertaking adventures that will glorify and honour us? We, who have survived the greatest war of our time, need not fear the unknown." Our spirits thus roused with pride, my men and I set off to explore the island.

Oh, that my prideful spirit would not rule over my senses and my heart! My pride served me as Achilles' lust for glory served him and has bought me little more than misery. If I had foreseen what would befall us on this island, I would not have dared bring our ships to land on its loathsome shore! But I did, and I curse my own words, for they encouraged my men to follow me in my foolishness and thus meet their end.

When we followed the trail of smoke, we happened upon a cavern, within which a flock of sheep was penned. I was curious and desired to explore the vast cave. Forcing our way through the bleating flock, we found crates of rich cheese and of milk.

"Ought not we take this as plunder, Odysseus?" one of my men, named Artemios, asked of me. "We should not linger here long, by my counsel, for we have been long away from our families in Ithaca."

"Nay," I replied. "That would be base robbery, my friend."

So I spoke, but no sooner had the words left my lips than the light from outside was suddenly obscured. Startled, we turned to face what had come. A hulking figure stood at the mouth of the cave. Its naked grey skin was as rough as raw leather and its single eye appraised us menacingly. It was the son of mighty Poseidon, the fearsome Cyclopes Polyphemus.

Know this, my son. Although the Cyclopes are sons of the great god of the ocean, of earthquakes and of horses, they are far from godly creatures. They dwell in caves, they do not toil. Each is a law unto itself. They are not like us men in many ways. Even so, I hoped for the courteous treatment a guest may expect from their hosts.

He rolled an enormous slab of stone over the mouth of the cavern, thus enshrouding us in pitch black darkness. When he had lit a fire and milked his many ewes, he said in his growling voice, "Strangers, who might you be? Where do you hail from over the highways of the sea?"

We were very much shaken by the suspicion in his voice, for he seemed to think that we were pirates of the seas. I was fast to reply, although it took great strength of will for me to force my voice not to quaver. "We are Achaeans," said I. "We are bound for Ithaca, but have lost our way." I explained to him the course of our travels and how we came to be travelling at all. I told him of our involvement in the armies united under Agamemnon at Troy. Finally, I requested that he show us the generosity and entertainment that a host is obliged to show his guests.

I trust that you, Telemachus, understand what it is right for a host to do for his guests. Of course, I have not been able to teach you such matters myself, but I hope that you have been in the company of descent men in my absence and know of this.

Polyphemus knew not and cared not. "You are a simple fool, stranger, or come from far off!" he guffawed, the ugly laughter echoing deafeningly against the chamber walls. "The Cyclops do not fear the gods" - I had so boldly called on the name of Zeus when I had asked for Polyphemus' generosity - "or fear the wrath of them. We are stronger and mightier than they, little man. What has become of your ship?"

Simple fool he called me, but I thank the gods I am more than that. I could see the ill-intent in his eye and told him that our ship had been destroyed, driven by Poseidon against the treacherous rocks.

Polyphemus reached out his fat-fingered hand and caught up two of my men. They cried out in alarm and fear, but I was powerless to save them. "Unlike you, stranger, I am not under the power of the gods. The gods cannot prevent me from harming you and your men, if I so will it!" the Cyclopes boasted and, before we could do more than shout out in anguish and fear, he had dashed our comrades' heads against the rocks. He tore them limb from limb and devoured them, flesh and bone alike.

I fell to my knees in horror, paralysed by the utter hopelessness I felt at the sight.

Once he had eaten his gruesome dinner, he fell into a deep slumber. Snarling with anger, Artemios drew his sword and was about to launch himself at the sleeping giant, murder in his welling eyes. I grabbed him by the shoulder and hauled him back.

"Still!" I hissed. "Do not be a fool! If you slaughter him in this way we will be trapped here and die in darkness! Have you the strength to remove the door-stone?" I turned and addressed the rest of my men also. "Courage, men of Ithaca!" I said. "We have been greatly wronged, but we must be patient and crafty if we are to have our revenge on this beast. We have faced danger before. I pray you, hold fast to your bravery."

We wept through the night for our lost comrades, but a plan had to be made if ever we were to escape. The next morning, Polyphemus took his sheep out to the pastures and closed us in the cave once more.

"Have you a plan, Odysseus?" Artemios whispered. "You have made yourself known throughout the known world for your cunning strategies. Do not fail us now, I beg of you."

Casting about the cave, we found a still-green log of wood, about the size of a great ship's mast. I evaluated the log carefully and I considered what could be done with it. Could it perhaps be used to prise the door-stone open? Could we perhaps use it to injure Polyphemus in some way without killing him? I had to decide quickly, or else the Cyclops would return and we would lose another day and more men.

I detailed my men to smooth the pole, so that all of them were involved. Understand, my son, that it is important to encourage and depend on your men, but also to act with them so that they respect you and your judgement. One day, I have no doubt, you will be a great leader of men. Therefore, allow me to advise you that working together is essential. I, too, prepared the log for its purpose. While my men smoothed the wood, I sharpened one end of it so that it was as sharp as a spear. When this was done, I hardened the wood in the fire. It was difficult to hide our new weapon, but we secreted it in sheep dung.

"Let us draw lots to decide which of you will help me to maim this brute," said I to my men. The lot fell on four brave and worthy men, Artemios among them. We then awaited the return of the worst host, Polyphemus.

We were not long in waiting. He came back, ushered in his sheep and rolled the boulder into its place. He set about milking his sheep, and we waited for the right moment. Without warning, Polyphemus snatched up two more of our friends and did to them what he had done the previous night. The blood soaked the earth as the red rays of dawn had bathed the sky just the day before.

"Cyclops," I said boldly, stepping forth. I took from my belt a flask of the rich red wine that we had stolen from the Ciconians and poured it into a bowl, unwatered. "You have killed my friends and have acted in a manner unfitting a host, but I pray you, taste the wine that I brought with me as an offering for you, that you may treat us more kindly in future. It is a sample of the best vintage from the cargo of our now destroyed ship."

Polyphemus, never suspecting a trick, laughed at my seemingly foolish request. Nevertheless, he snatched the bowl from my hand and drank deeply from it. He was indeed impressed with the taste.

"Although we have our own wine here, from the grapes of our vineyards, never have I tasted such a wine as this, little man!" He thrust the bowl towards me and commanded, "Pour me some more!" I did as he said and he drained the bowl three times. Drunk with the strong liquid, he leaned towards me. "What is your name, little man," he said, "that I might give you a gift as a host to a guest?"

The Blinding of Polyphemus
(https://www.college.columbia.edu/core/content/blinding-
polyphemos-laconian-black-figure-cup-c-540-bce)

A cunning thought slipped into my mind and I hastened to say, "All who know me call me Nobody."

Polyphemus laughed unpleasantly. "I promise I will eat Nobody last of all!" he said mirthfully. Then he collapsed, overcome by the strong drink he had so greedily accepted.

A word of warning, Telemachus. Wine can bring pleasure and make good fellowship, but it can also be dangerous, confounding the mind and misleading the senses. I advise you not to be like the wretched Polyphemus when you drink wine.

Returning to my tale… Now that Polyphemus was sleeping soundly under the influence of the mellow vintage, I beckoned my four accomplices to my side. We hefted the weighty log and I struck its point in the ash of the fire to heat it. When it was about to catch fire, we angled it up and plunged it into the Cyclops' eye. While Artemios and the others pushed it with their might, I drilled it in so that the eye sizzled and crackled, blood spilling over Polyphemus' face.

Polyphemus shouted out in dumb pain. He tore the makeshift spear from his blinded eye and screamed out to his fellows for aid with brutish voice. I urged my companions towards the sheep and we hid among them.

Outside, we heard the voices of the other Cyclops. "Polyphemus?" they shouted. "What ails you? Are you being attacked or robbed? Who is doing this to you?"

The blinded giant bellowed, "Nobody is attacking me!"

I would have laughed, but the severity of the situation stilled my mirth.

Sneaking out of Polyphemus' Cave
(http://www.necessaryprose.com/vases.htm)

The other Cyclops left in disgust at the apparently unnecessary roars of their fellow. In his torment, Polyphemus groped towards the door-stone and thrust it aside. Now the mouth of the cave was uncovered, but I had to think of a way that I and my men could sneak past him without being recaptured and killed.

"Men," I said quietly. "Grab hold of the wooliest sheep and cling to their bellies. We may be able to pass him in this way."

They did as I told them and in this manner, hidden in the fleece of Polyphemus' own sheep, we slipped through the injured Cyclops' fingers. We fled back to the ships, but as we ran we heard Polyphemus' spiteful cry. "My father Poseidon will curse you, Nobody!" he screamed bloodcurdlingly. "You will be long in returning to your beloved home shore! But as I promised, you will be the last to die, Nobody!"

I ordered my men to set sail without delay. Polyphemus' words echoed in my ears and I wondered at them. I still wonder. Have I sealed my own fate? Will I be cursed to stay from you for even longer than I have already been? Will you think me dead? Will my beloved Penelope turn from me and marry another? My victory over Polyphemus is tainted with this dread.

Oh, my son, I pray that these things are not true and that some day soon I will see the young man of my own flesh that you are. Telemachus, Penelope - I love the both of you and will strive to reach you with all my strength and will!

Telemachus, I offer you this wisdom: be cunning, but also be gracious to your guests.

Cicones and the Lotus-Eaters

Telemachus,

The misfortunes that have kept me from you be cursed! I truly believed my return voyage from the war would be brief and that I would soon greet you, would soon enfold you in my arms with a heart-felt embrace. I weep to think that my homecoming has been further delayed. I will relate to you the sorry events that augmented my journey home and have swept me further from my beloved family than I can bear to think about.

We left Troy with a fleet of twelve ships, our chests swelled with pride over our victory, our hearts filled with joy and set for home. I regret it now, but at the time we judged it well advised to plunder the land of the Ciconians, who had allied themselves with the repulsive Trojans. To punish our enemies, we slaughtered their men, and took their women and treasures for our own. Once the Ciconians had been thus punished, I urged the men that we ought to leave, but this is where the misfortunes began, Telemachus.

My soldiers refused to go, too engrossed were they in feasting and enjoying the Ciconians' wine to heed sound counsel. The Ciconians, meanwhile, called on the aid of their neighbours, regrouped and attacked us so unrelentingly that we were forced to cut our losses and put to sea in shameful flight. My army was greatly diminished and the victory-glow that had brightened our eyes when we departed from Troy, that damned city Ilion, faded from our spirits.

After we left the Ciconians, we were driven by a strong wind for nine days - some of my men claimed that the storm was sent by Zeus, but I wonder at the reason why he should beset us in this manner. The storm swept us into waters that I do not believe many eyes of men have seen nor feet of men wandered. Here we came to the island of the Lotus-Eaters, men of little care. They eat the fruit of the strange lotus plants day in and day out, a dreamy look in their eyes, as if they are living in perfect content. They offered us the fruit of the lotus and some of my men, intrigued by their listlessness, accepted the fruit. Those of them who ate the honey-sweet fruit of the lotus became strange. They were unwilling to leave and thought not of their wives and their homes. They desired nought but to remain with the Lotus-Eaters, to feed on the lotus and to forget all else.

Their nonsense was unnerving. We were obliged to take them by force back to the ships, for if we did not they would not have stirred and would have stayed in that land of hazy dream and snaring sleep for all their days.

It may have been better for us all to have been thus enthralled by that unearthly fruit, Telemachus, for our misfortunes only grew worse from that day forth.

I offer you this wisdom: be discerning.