Valerio Manfredi - Odysseus - The Return

I’d wanted them with me, thinking they would help me explore a new land, meet peoples and animals unknown to them, face danger if necessary. . and that this would suffice to pull them out of their stupor and indifference. I was wrong. And yet, even as the cavern echoed with the belching of the monster who had stretched out to sleep, I wasn’t sorry I’d done it. I was certain that a man worthy of his name would not give up his memories, forget the faces of his wife and children, reject the land where he was born. Only a coward could leave all that behind in exchange for a life without purpose or meaning. But I was tormented by the ignominious end they’d come to, by the thought that their remains would be digested and expelled by that fetid creature. Deprived of funeral honours, the flames of a pyre and the final rites. Horror gnawed at my heart.

That was the worst night, so atrocious that sometimes I think it was a nightmare, one of those that can kill you because it’s more real than reality is. In those unfamiliar lands, different beyond any imagining, I’d become accustomed to the thought that what I had once considered reality no longer existed; it had been replaced by a turmoil of feelings and passions without beginning or end, without place or time. Possible and impossible became one and the same thing, and time became like the route of a ship that, having lost its bearings, sails in a wide circle while the helmsman believes he’s following a straight course because there is no land in sight and the stars aren’t shining and everything is shrouded in fog.

We spent the night there. My comrades clung to one another in fright and dread and I was certain they were cursing me, in their hearts.

I, alone, gripped my sword. I wanted to slip up on the monster and stick it into his neck all the way to the hilt and then twist it to cut off his airways and make his blood flow and fill his gullet, but I knew that if we killed him we would perish as well. That’s why the cyclops could fall asleep without worrying about us. Once we ran out of food, our last day would soon follow, because there was no way out of the cave. The entrance was sealed off with an enormous boulder that not even the strength of one hundred men would be able to budge. The only other opening was a hole at the top of the cavern that the smoke rose out of, but it was too high up. Unreachable. It was then that my mind came to my aid, or perhaps it was the goddess Athena who inspired me, without letting herself be seen or heard. The one thing I could be sure of was that my thinking was much more wide-ranging and complex than the monster’s and that I could find a way to render him incapable of harming us but not deprive him of his strength: without it, we would never again see the light of day or breathe in the open air.

I crept near my comrades then and said: ‘Don’t lose hope. I’ll save you all.’

‘How’s that?’ said one of those who had eaten the red flower. ‘There’s no way to escape.’

‘Yes, there is. He can only look in a single direction. We have to split up so that while he is looking one way, the others can flee. All we have to do is survive until tomorrow night.’

I managed to convince them to get a little rest. I watched over them as a father watches over his own children. In my heart I was plotting the ruin of the cruel monster who had scoffed at the laws of hospitality and scorned Zeus himself, the protector of all guests. I prayed in the deep silence of the night: ‘Great Zeus, you who keeps wayfarers and guests from harm, allow me to avenge the horrible deaths of my comrades! They escaped the perils of war in the bloody fields of Troy only to die an abominable death in this savage land.’

My prayers said, I slumped against the stone wall of the cavern, in the shelter of a crag, and tried to get some rest, without abandoning myself to sleep.

I was jolted wide awake by the voice of the cyclops, muttering as he tumbled from his bed, and the pounding of his footsteps as he neared the back of the cave. The ground shook under his feet. I saw my comrades’ eyes fill with terror again, but they acted as I had urged them to, separating into two groups. At first, things went as I had predicted. The cyclops was forced to turn his head from one side to the other constantly and he could not seize any one of the men, but then he became enraged by the situation and turned his entire attention to one group alone, driving them into a corner.

Their eyes wildly sought me out, but at that moment I was as helpless as they were. The giant snatched up two of them and ripped off their limbs one by one as they screamed in horror, and then he devoured their mangled trunks. These two had eaten of the flowers as well, and the effects somehow still lingered in them. They had remained isolated from the others, frozen with fear. I could not hold back my tears. They ran down my cheeks as the heart in my chest howled like a rabid dog.

Once he’d finished his meal, the wild man, his round eye staring, separated the lambs from the sheep and then removed the enormous boulder and stood at the opening so none of us could get out. Only the sheep were allowed through, led by a large ram. When they had all scampered out, on their way to grassy pastures, he followed, wedging the big boulder behind him. We were plunged into darkness again, save for the ray of light streaming in through the opening in the ceiling.

I gathered my companions and said: ‘Listen to me. We’re all sickened by what we’ve seen, but I promised that I would save you and I will keep my word. You must promise to obey me, to do what I order you to do. We’re still an army of Achaians and we can win against a miserable beast that feeds on human flesh.’ That is what I said, but my mind was empty. I could not devise any strategy for escape from the horrible fate that seemed to await us all.

I cast my eyes about, desperate for a solution, and made out, leaning on the wall of the cavern, part of the trunk of a young olive tree, a side shoot that had grown as straight as a spike and had been chopped off so that a tool could be made out of it, or a walking stick. I hadn’t noticed it before, although it must have been there. An olive tree. . sacred to you, goddess of the green eyes, daughter of Zeus, Tritonia. There, in the darkness before me, I felt I could see the helmet covering your head, the cuirass and aegis on your chest. It was you who gave me the suggestion, who inspired me. The olive tree is yours, your gift to all of humanity and to me. I who love and venerate you.

‘Take that tree trunk!’ I ordered. ‘I want it stripped of its bark and scraped smooth as the handle of an oar. I’ll take care of the tip.’ Thus work began: the men cut off the smaller branches and removed the bark, working swiftly. Waiting idly for death to take them had made them feel like sheep, not men, while a task that needed doing gave them hope. I unsheathed my sword and set about sharpening one end, with great care. I shaved off small chips first, like a carpenter with his plane, then used my knife and a pumice after that to make the surface perfectly smooth, capable of piercing deeply without the least friction. The longer and sharper I saw the tip becoming, the more intensely my heart savoured the thought of revenge.

When we’d finished, we put the sharp-tipped stake back in its place and covered it with the dung of the sheep and goats.

‘Now all we have to do is wait,’ I said.

‘Wait for what?’ exclaimed one of my comrades, another one of the flower-eaters. ‘For him to devour another one of us?’

I drew close. I knew his parents, who lived on Same but had land on Ithaca as well. His name was Trasimachus.

‘I know what you’re thinking, my friend. You’re thinking that I’m exposing those of you who ate the red flowers to danger in order to get rid of you, but you’re wrong. I saved you from the void. I brought you back to the ships so you could return to your parents who are still waiting for you. You, just like everyone else. I’ve lost too many of you already. It’s you who desires death, even if you don’t know that. The cyclops can sense it. Do you know why he has a single eye? Because his mind isn’t big enough to command two. But he can smell weakness like an animal. And he strikes, without mercy. Now listen well to what I’m saying. Do you see this stake? We’re going to drive it into the monster’s eye and make him blind. Then we’ll take advantage of his strength to open our way to freedom.’