Book VII · Ῥαψωδία η

So while he was over there grinding out his prayer, Odysseus, that goat who's been through it,

the strong mules were already hauling the girl into town, no stops, full send.

And once she pulled up at her dad's famous halls, ngl iconic,

she parked the cart right out front: and her brothers, lowkey

built like the immortals, swarmed in around her, unhitching

Then she dipped off to her own room: and a fire got lit for her

by old Eurymedusa, the chambermaid out of Apeira, posted up indoors,

the one the curved ships hauled all the way over from Apeira back in the day,

and they handpicked her, the literal prize, for Alcinous, because over all

she's the one who raised white-armed Nausicaa up in the halls, basically her whole childhood arc.

She got the fire crackling for her and laid the dinner out inside, all sorted.

And right then Odysseus stood up to head into the city: and Athena,

caring about him deep down, poured a thick fog all around him, full cloak mode,

and start clowning him with words, grilling him on who he even was.

But just as he was about to step into the lovely city, mid-stride,

that's where she pulled up on him, the goddess, Athena, eyes glinting,

full cosplay as a young girl with a water jug propped on her hip.

"Hey kid, any chance you walk me to the house of the man,

Alcinous, the one running the whole show for the people round here?

Because I'm a guest who's been through it, just now pulling up fresh,

all the way from some faraway land: so I don't know a single

And then she came back at him, the goddess, Athena, eyes glinting:

"Say less, stranger, my elder, the house you're asking about,

I'll point it out, since it sits right next to my own flawless dad's place.

But keep it lowkey and just follow, I'll lead the way out front,

Because these guys aren't exactly the type to put up with strangers,

they don't warm up and show love to whoever rolls in from somewhere else, nah.

Nah, they fully trust their fast ships, the quick ones,

to cut across the big deep, since the earth-shaker gifted them that:

Saying this, Pallas Athena led the way out front, locked in,

moving fast: and he fell in behind, stepping right in the goddess's tracks.

And the Phaeacians, those famous sailors, did not clock him one bit

walking through the city right past them: because Athena

this otherworldly fog over him, caring about him deep in her chest.

And Odysseus stood there fully gagging at the harbours and the balanced ships,

and the meeting-grounds of the heroes themselves, and the long walls,

the high ones, fitted tight with stakes, the kind of sight that just has you staring.

the goddess, Athena, eyes glinting, kicked off the convo with this:

"So here it is, stranger, my elder, the house you told me

to point out, no cap. You'll find the god-raised kings parked in there

deep in their dinner: head on inside and don't let your chest

he touches, even one who pulls up from somewhere way off the map.

First thing, you'll come across the queen of the house in the halls:

Arete's her name, and honestly it just fits, and she comes from the exact same

parents, the very ones who brought King Alcinous into the world.

fathered, and Periboea too, the best-looking of all women, no contest,

the youngest daughter of big-hearted Eurymedon,

the one who once held it down as king over the proud Giants.

But he, he ran his reckless people straight into the ground, and got himself ended right along with them:

big-hearted Nausithous, who ruled among the Phaeacians:

and Nausithous fathered Rhexenor and Alcinous, two boys.

But Apollo, silver bow and all, dropped Rhexenor while he was

still a newlywed, no son, just one daughter left behind in the halls,

and honoured her like no other woman on this earth ever gets honoured,

out of every woman keeping a house under her husband's roof right now.

That's how treasured she is, straight from the heart, and still is,

both by her own dear children and by Alcinous himself,

and hype her up with words every single time she walks through the city.

Because honestly she's not lacking one bit in the good-sense department herself,

and for the people she's fond of she even squashes the men's beef.

So if she takes a liking to you, deep in her heart, real talk,

home to your high-roofed house and your own homeland."

Saying this, off she went, Athena, eyes glinting, dipping out,

over the barren sea, leaving lovely Scheria behind in the dust,

and she came to Marathon and to Athens with its wide streets,

rolled up on Alcinous's famous halls: and his heart

was going absolutely feral as he stood there, before he crossed the bronze threshold.

Because there was this glow, like the sun or the moon coming through,

running all through the high-roofed house of big-hearted Alcinous, lit different.

from the threshold to the inner room, capped off with a frieze of blue enamel, iced up top:

and golden doors sealed the sturdy house in tight, no gaps, hermetic:

silver doorposts stood planted on the bronze threshold, posted up,

silver the lintel up top, and the door-handle solid gold, fully iced out.

the ones Hephaestus cooked up with that big-brain craft of his

to hold guard duty over the house of big-hearted Alcinous, round the clock,

deathless they were, and ageless, every single day forever, no expiry, no off-switch.

And inside, thrones lined the wall, this way and that, the whole run,

were soft, finely-spun robes, handiwork the women slayed themselves.

That's where the Phaeacian leaders would post up, parked steady,

drinking and eating: because the spread literally never ran dry, all year round, restocked nonstop.

And golden boys stood up on the well-built pedestals,

lighting up the nights through the halls for the dinner crowd, lit nonstop.

And he's got fifty serving women on the clock around the house, no days off,

some grinding the yellow grain down on the millstones,

others throwing the looms and twisting the wool on the spindle,

and off the close-woven linen the runny oil just keeps dripping, glossing it up.

As much as the Phaeacians outclass every other man alive

at driving a fast ship across the sea, that's exactly how the women

are straight-up wizards at the loom: because Athena handed them, more than anyone,

And outside the courtyard there's a massive orchard right by the gates,

four acres of it, no joke: with a fence run round it on both sides, fully sealed.

And in there tall trees stand growing, blooming full and lush, thriving for daysss,

pears and pomegranates and apple trees loaded down with shiny fruit,

The fruit on these never dies off, never quits on you, not once,

not in winter, not in summer, it's a year-round thing: nah, nonstop

the west wind, breathing over them, brings some on while it ripens the rest.

Pear ages on top of pear, apple stacked on apple, no end,

And in there a vineyard, heavy with fruit, is rooted up for him,

and one stretch of it, a flat drying-floor in a sunny spot,

is just baking in the sun, while they're harvesting other grapes,

and treading still others underfoot: and out front sit the unripe ones,

And down at the bottom row, the neatly-kept garden beds

of every kind keep coming up, glowing fresh the whole year through, no off-season.

And there are two springs, one of them branching out,

spreading across the whole garden, the other heading the opposite way, slipping under the courtyard threshold

So those were the splendid god-given gifts inside Alcinous's place, the whole flex.

And standing there he took it all in, Odysseus, that goat who's been through it.

But once he'd gagged at every last bit of it to his heart's content,

he stepped quick over the threshold and into the house, no dawdling.

pouring one out for the sharp-eyed Argus-slayer,

the one they always poured to last, when crashing out was finally on their minds.

And he walked on through the house, Odysseus, that goat who's been through it,

still wrapped up in the thick fog Athena had poured around him, full stealth,

And Odysseus threw his arms around Arete's knees, locked on,

and right then the otherworldly fog wrapped around him just melted clean away.

And they all went dead silent through the house, clocking the man,

fully gagged at the sight: and Odysseus made his plea, no shame:

I've come to your husband and your knees after grinding through so much,

and to these dinner guests too, may the gods grant them blessings

for life, and may each one hand down to his children

the wealth in his halls and the honour the people handed him.

faster, since I've been catching this pain far from my loved ones for ages now."

Saying this he sat himself down on the hearth, right in the ashes,

right by the fire: and all of them went quiet, dead silent.

And finally a voice spoke up, old hero Echeneus,

and an absolute master with words, holding tons of the old lore in his head:

meaning well by them, he took the floor and addressed the room:

"Alcinous, this honestly isn't your best look, it isn't a vibe at all,

that a guest sits on the floor on the hearth down in the ashes:

So come on, lift the guest up and sit him down proper

on a silver-studded throne, and tell your heralds

to mix the wine, so we can pour one out for Zeus, who loves the thunderbolt,

the one who walks alongside guests who deserve the respect:

And once he caught that, the sacred force of Alcinous,

he took Odysseus by the hand, that clever one always cooking up something,

raised him up off the hearth and sat him on a shining throne,

making his own son get up, kind-hearted Laodamas,

And a serving girl carried in water and tipped it from a pitcher,

a beautiful golden one, streaming over a silver basin,

so he could wash up: and she dragged a polished table right over beside him.

And the respectable housekeeper came through with the bread and laid it out,

so he drank and he ate, Odysseus, that goat who's been through it.

And right then the force of Alcinous turned to a herald with this:

"Pontonous, mix up the bowl and pass the wine round the room,

to everyone through the hall, so we can pour one out for Zeus who loves the thunderbolt,

So he said, and Pontonous mixed up the honey-sweet wine,

and dished it round to everyone, starting them all off with the cups.

But once they'd poured one out and drunk as much as their hearts wanted,

Alcinous took the floor and addressed the room:

so I can say what the heart in my chest is telling me to say.

For now, since you've eaten, head home and crash out,

and at dawn we'll call in more of the elders

and host the guest in the halls properly, and to the gods

to the escort, so the guest, with zero trouble and zero grief,

under our care reaches his own homeland safe,

happy and quick, even if he's coming from way out there,

and so he catches no harm and no pain along the way

he'll go through whatever fate and the heavy Spinners

spun for him on their thread the day his mum gave birth to him.

But if it's one of the immortals come down out of the sky,

then the gods are clearly cooking up something different here, no cap.

plain as day, whenever we put on our glorious hecatombs,

and they feast right beside us, parking wherever we park.

And even if some lone traveller bumps into one of them on the road,

they don't hide themselves, since we're close kin to them,

And coming back at him, big-brain Odysseus said:

"Alcinous, put your mind on literally anything else, because me,

I'm nothing like the immortals, the ones who hold the wide sky,

not in build, not in shape, nah, I'm just like mortal men, dead average.

of all people, with those I'd match myself in pain, easy:

and honestly I could keep going, rattling off way more troubles,

all the ones I've ground through by the gods' design.

But please just let me get my dinner in, miserable as I am:

the thing that orders you to clock it whether you want to or not,

even when you're worn down and grief is sitting heavy in your chest,

like me, I've got grief in my chest, but the belly never

quits ordering me to eat and drink, and it wipes

But you lot, get moving the second dawn shows her face,

so you can set me, this wretched man, down on my homeland's shore,

beat up as I am: and let life leave me once I've laid eyes on

my property, my servants, and my big high-roofed house."

for the guest to get his escort, since he'd spoken fair and square.

But once they'd poured one out and drunk as much as their hearts wanted,

they headed off to crash, each one to his own house,

but Odysseus, that goat, hung back behind in the hall,

the two of them: while the serving women cleared away the dinner stuff.

And white-armed Arete was the first of them to speak up, sharp,

because she'd clocked the cloak and the tunic the second she peeped the clothes,

the lovely ones she'd stitched herself with her serving women:

"Stranger, this first thing, I'm gonna be the one to ask you myself, point-blank:

who are you and where from? Who handed you these clothes?

Didn't you say you got here wandering across the sea?"

And coming back at her, big-brain Odysseus said:

since the heavenly gods loaded me up with so much grief:

but this much I'll lay out, the thing you're asking and digging into.

There's this island, Ogygia, lying way out in the sea, off-grid:

and there Atlas's daughter, the scheming Calypso,

links up with her, not gods, not mortal men, nobody, full stop.

But me, the wretched one, some spirit brought me to her hearth

all alone, after Zeus drove down and split my fast ship clean in two

with his blazing thunderbolt out in the middle of the wine-dark sea.

but me, I grabbed the keel of my curved ship in my arms

and got carried along nine days: and on the tenth, a black night,

the gods washed me up on the island Ogygia, where Calypso

lives, that braided menace of a goddess: and she scooped me up

she'd make me deathless and ageless, every single day forever:

but she never once won over the heart in my chest, not for a second.

There I stayed seven solid years, and the clothes Calypso

gave me, the immortal ones, I'd soak right through with my tears the whole time:

right then she ordered me, hyping me up to get going, to head back,

either off a message from Zeus, or her own mind had flipped.

She sent me off on a raft lashed tight, and loaded me right up,

food and sweet wine, and dressed me in immortal clothes,

For seventeen days I sailed, eating up the sea,

and on the eighteenth the shadowy mountains finally showed up,

your land, and the heart in my chest just leapt clean up,

poor doomed me: because I was still gonna get tangled up in plenty

who set the winds loose on me and locked off my whole route,

and stirred the sea up till it was beyond words, and the waves wouldn't

let the raft carry me, groaning hard the entire way.

Then a storm scattered that raft to absolute bits: but me,

and the water carried me close and shoved me up against your land.

And there as I climbed out, a wave nearly bodied me onto the shore,

slamming me against the huge rocks, an absolutely grim spot,

but I backed off and swam round again, until I made it

smooth of rocks, and there was a windbreak too, clutch.

And I dropped out of the water, barely holding myself together, and ambrosial night

came down: I crawled out, away from the rain-fed river,

and bedded down in the bushes, and I heaped leaves

There among the leaves, heart wrecked and grieving,

I slept all night long and through the dawn and into midday:

the sun went down, and sweet sleep finally let me go.

And on the shore I clocked your daughter's serving girls

I begged her: and she didn't fall short of good sense one bit,

the kind of move you wouldn't expect from someone young you'd run into,

to handle it that smooth: because young ones are usually thoughtless NPCs.

She loaded me up with plenty of food and gleaming wine

That's what I've laid out for you, the truth, gutted as I am."

And then Alcinous came back at him and said:

"Stranger, honestly this one thing she didn't handle quite right,

my girl, since she didn't bring you along with the serving women

And coming back at him, big-brain Odysseus said:

"Hero, please don't go dragging the flawless girl over this:

because she actually told me to follow with the serving women,

but I wouldn't, scared and lowkey embarrassed,

because we're a jealous bunch, the tribes of men on this earth, fully."

And then Alcinous came back at him and said:

"Stranger, the heart in my chest just isn't the type

to flare up over nothing: better to keep it all proper, no drama.

a man like you, your whole vibe, thinking the exact things I think,

would have my daughter and be called my son-in-law,

sticking around for good: I'd hand you a house and possessions,

if you stayed of your own free will: but against your will no Phaeacian

And your escort, I'm locking it in for this, so you know it for sure,

tomorrow: and by then, knocked flat by sleep,

you'll be lying there crashed, while they row the calm sea, until you reach

your homeland and your house, and wherever else is dear to you,

because they say that's the furthest off, the ones of our people

who actually saw it, back when they ferried golden Rhadamanthys

out to go check in on Tityus, the son of Gaia.

And they went all the way there and wrapped it without breaking a sweat

And you'll know it yourself, deep down, just how the best my ships are

and how my young lads are at tossing up the sea with the oar."

So he said, and he was straight-up buzzing, Odysseus, that goat who's been through it,

and putting up a prayer he spoke and said the words out loud:

comes true: then his fame would be unkillable across the grain-giving

earth, and as for me, I'd make it back to my homeland."

So the two of them were trading talk like this back and forth,

and white-armed Arete told her serving women to lock in,

purple blankets and spread the rugs over them, all snug,

and lay out the fleecy cloaks to wear on top.

And they headed out of the hall with torches in their hands:

and once they'd hustled and made up the sturdy bed, fully sorted,

"Get up and go sleep, stranger: your bed's all made, good to go."

So they said: and crashing out honestly looked like a dream to him right then.

So that's where he slept, Odysseus, that goat who's been through it,

on the corded bed under the echoing portico:

and beside him his wife, the queen, sorted out the bed and the bedding.