Essay on Odyssey
- Date:Jul 03, 2019
- Category:The Odyssey
I knew I was justified in having a bad feeling about that island. Here we go with Odysseus, on to this “deserted” island in order to find food and drink, and, imagine our luck, find a cave full of milk and cheese. I of course, wonder why there would be this great quantity of food left unattended, and worry that whoever owns all this food might be coming back for it. But Odysseus has rules of his own, and insisted we stay to enjoy the food as much as we can. “We can handle anyone who might heard their sheep along this lonely Island – why are you so afraid of little shepherds?!” he asked me when I suggested we move on.
I can understand that Odysseus is confident in his own prowess – as are we all. We fought ten long years in Troy, and have conquered the mightiest city in existence, fighting both God and man. And Odysseus himself was in the horse, slaughtering the Trojans and assuring our final victory. But confidence is one thing. Over confidence is another.
It turns out I was right to be afraid of those “little shepherds” who turned out to be not so little at all. Giant, hulking, one eyed brutes: the sons of the gods but smelling a damn slight worse than their sheep – these shepherds are Cyclopes! And we stay a few minutes too long, bam, blast! and we’re caught in the cave with a Cyclops killing us left and right, assuring us we’ll all be dead soon.
Of course, Odysseus got us out of it. Or least ways most of us, and himself. I would be anything I have that he’ll get back to Ithaca, but with the rate we’re losing crew, I’m not sure anyone else will make it there. But he’s cunning – confusing the Cyclops with his stories of being “nobody” – and he’s brave and he’s strong, using that huge stake to drive through the Cyclops’s one eye. It’s amazing to watch Odysseus go, he really is a hero. But I still worry that sometimes he can get in his own way, so much that we might all end up dead. Take when we were sailing away from the Island of the Cyclopes. We had blinded a Cyclops, dived around him to escape the cave, and by using a cunning plan of calling himself “nobody,” Odysseus had given us all time to escape. But right when we were almost in the free and clear, bloody Odysseus has to turn around and yell “I am not Nobody! I am Odysseus, son of Laertese, King of Ithica!” The entire crew groaned as he was making his boast – because we knew it meant trouble. Thos Cyclopes may be the ill-begotten disgusting sons-of-a-god, but as any parent knows you’ll do a lot to defend even your worst begotten son.
And that’s when all the trouble started. The wind would never go the right direction, the storms were constant, the ship was always lolling about and doing the worst thing. I’m sure during the last storm I saw the face of Poseidon laughing at us from the clouds – I think that Odysseus might have finally made an enemy that is too much for him. I know I wouldn’t have angered Poseidon while in the middle of a sea-journey. I’m sure Odysseus will be able to handle himself – the last thing I remember is him yelling orders, taking control of the ship – I’m sure he’ll make it out just fine.
Then, during that last storm, a flash of lighting, a rocking wave and I was thrown overboard. I’m not sure if anyone noticed I was gone until it was too late, but all I can see right now is pounding rain, lightning, and the shadow of a ship departing. Here I am, clinging to a barrel thrown overboard with me, not sure whether it will be the sharks, the sea monsters or the storm that do me in, with images of Odysseus’s amazing prowess flashing in front of my eyes. He is an amazing man, a true hero, pride of all of Ithaca. And I’m probably going to die because he couldn’t keep his damned mouth shut.