The Curse Fulfilled

Book XII of the Odyssey

So far, this book of the Odyssey has moved me the most. First the utter horror of Skylla (and I can’t see what Odysseus could have done differently) and then, finally, throwing themselves on the mercy of the gods.

I haven’t actually been very impressed with the leadership of Odysseus so far. He’s good at getting out of scrapes but not so good at avoiding them in the first place. He seems to have trouble trusting his men, and they return the favor, since he has a tendency not to keep them in the loop. So when I got to this chapter, I was expecting more of the same. I knew his men would bring down the curse on themselves by eating the cattle of Helios on the island of Thrinakia. Of course, that would be Odysseus’ fault because he wouldn’t tell them what they needed to know, like with the bag of wind.

But that’s not how it happened. His crew knew. And decided to risk eating the cattle anyway.

But shouldn’t Odysseus have told them they’d make it otherwise? Well… the way I read it, that wasn’t in the prophecy. Correct me in the comments if I’m wrong. Odysseus was told that he’d lose everyone if they ate the cattle, but he wasn’t told that they were sure of making it back otherwise. In fact, he was specifically told it was going to be a rough trip either way. So I can’t really blame Odysseus. His crew, at this point, knew the score, hoped the gods would relent, and lost.

And I can’t blame them for their hope.

So I wrote this poem.

Loss of the Crew

Back on Kirke’s isle the cairn is built,
Elpenor’s oar atop, his bones below,
Loaded, advised, we sail.

Forewarned and safe, my shipmates, deaf, pass by
The siren’s songs: that vale won’t hold their bones.
Deadly straits are next.

Kharibdys, to left, sucks sea to black abyss,
Then spews it o’er both Skylla’s cliff and hers.
Gruesome Skylla strikes.

Row on! The six-headed monster snags six men,
Three rows of teeth each torso hooks, limbs flail,
“Odysseus!” their final cries.

Skylla, wingless, her catch to cave pulls back.
Men’s arms reach out as gullets swallow down.
No greater pity ever pierced me through.

Dread and horror filled, on Thrinakia they swore
The fatal meat to leave. Till storm trapped
All the stores were gone.

They knew.
	Midst rites, libations, promises, prayers.
Better to drown fast than starve slow.
They ate, they hoped, we sailed.

Zeus struck, they got the death they chose.
I landed shipwrecked on Calypso’s isle.
Poseidon’s curse fulfilled.

Cremation of Elpenor by Theodoor van Thulden, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons