Homer’sThe Odyssey
Book IX · In the Cave of the Cyclops
ἄνδρα μοι ἔννεπε, μοῦσα
A green island, and smoke on the wind
Weary of the sea, Odysseus and his crew beach their ship on a wild shore and climb toward a great cave hung with baskets of cheese and pails of milk. It belongs to Polyphemus — a one-eyed giant, a son of Poseidon, who herds his flocks alone and answers to no law but his own hunger.
The men beg to snatch some cheeses and flee. But Odysseus, ever curious, ever proud, wants to meet the master of the cave — and see what gift a host might give a guest. It is a decision that will cost six men their lives, and cost him ten more years of sea.
“We lit a fire, and made a burnt offering, and helped ourselves to the cheese, and sat waiting for him inside.”
A boulder no twenty wagons could move
At dusk the giant drives his flocks in and seals the mouth of the cave with a slab of rock so vast that no army could shift it. He counts his sheep — and then he counts his uninvited guests. For his supper he seizes two of the men and devours them where they lie. There is no fighting free of this cave: kill the giant in his sleep, and they die trapped behind his stone.
So Odysseus does what Odysseus does best. He thinks. Below is the plan he improvises in the dark. The steps have drifted out of order — set them right.
The Cunning of Odysseus
Drag the steps into the order the hero carried them out. Or focus a step and press ↑ / ↓.
“Tell me your name, stranger”
Odysseus offers the giant a skin of dark, unwatered wine — strong enough to fell a god. Delighted, Polyphemus gulps it down and, growing drowsy, promises his guest a “gift”: he will eat him last. Then he asks the traveller’s name. Everything that follows turns on the answer. Choose it.
What name do you give?
One eye, one stake, one word
When the giant sinks into a wine-heavy sleep, the men drive a sharpened, fire-hardened olive stake deep into his single eye. He wakes roaring, and his neighbours call through the rock: who is hurting you? “Nobody!” he bellows — and they wander off, laughing at a giant troubled by no one at all. At dawn the blinded Cyclops rolls back the stone and feels the back of each sheep as it passes — never guessing the men are lashed beneath the rams’ bellies, sailing out under his very hands.
“My name is Nobody. Nobody is what my mother and father call me.”
Did you follow the voyage?
Five questions from the cave. Answer to see where each one leads.