Minutiæ

On a recent expe­di­tion to the ancient city of Myce­nae, world renowned archae­ol­o­gist Dr. Jean Pal­jeanette III uncov­ered the post­cards* the Greek hero Odysseus sent to his belea­guered wife Pene­lope while mak­ing the ten year jour­ney back to their fam­ily home in Ithaca from the Tro­jan War, not all that far away. (These post­cards were most likely deliv­ered by a wise-cracking seag­ull.) Minu­tiæ is proud to present this last chap­ter in the saga made famous by Homer, the world’s blind­est suc­cess­ful poet.

*Please keep in mind some words were dif­fi­cult to read or do not have mod­ern trans­la­tions, and sub­sti­tu­tions are pro­vided in brackets.

ISMAROS

My Dear­est Penelope,

Great news! Those [silly] Tro­jans fell for my old [stick-the-entire-army-in-a-giant-wooden-horse trick] and the war is over, at last! I set out sev­eral weeks ago, 12 ships car­ry­ing all the trea­sures that so recently belonged to the peo­ple of Troy. [But here’s the bad news]. We were attacked by pirates off the coast of Ismaros; we fought hard, kept the [minia­ture] war going as long as we could, but in the end lost quite a bit of our trea­sure and more than a few of our men. Upset by the overly vicious attacks, we failed to see the oncom­ing hur­ri­cane. Yes, yes… I know I’m an expert on the high seas, but I was dis­tracted, [you know], and tor­tur­ing the one pirate I did man­age to cap­ture, you wouldn’t believe how fun they are to tor­ture, those pirates and the storm threw us off course. I’m sure we will find our way again soon, how­ever; and I will be in your arms again, bestow­ing on you what jew­els and fin­ery the pirates did not take.

I hope you and my dear son, Telemachus, are well. I think of you daily.

With all the love of the gods,
Your Odysseus

THE LAND OF THE LOTUS-EATERS

Dear Pene­lope,

The Land of the Lotus-Eaters may not [sound] to you the best place for a [pit-stop], but trust me it is quite a hos­pitable land to rest in when you have been rat­tled by some [dev­il­ish Long John Sil­vers]. Well, it is hos­pitable other than the dreaded cyclops, Polyphe­mus. He has quite a tem­per, actu­ally, and for some time had cap­tured me and my men—thus the rea­son for our fur­ther delay. We had to bat­tle Polyphe­mus, blind him with a wooden stake, escape once again, [et cetera, et cetera]. It was [jolly good] fun, other than the wooden stake giv­ing me a [nasty splin­ter], which took me sev­eral weeks to remove.

I am sure we will be home in [just a jiff] now. I look for­ward daily to see­ing your­self and our beloved son, Tele, within the month.

Love in Athena,
Odysseus

THE HOME OF AEOLUS, KEEPER OF THE WINDS

Dear Penny,

Do not be fooled by the front of this post­card! Aeolus’s home­land is not the beau­ti­ful par­adise it is made out to be. True, he did take us in when that wretched Polyphe­mus caused us to be caught up in yet another storm—but how was I to know that his father was Posei­don? And it’s true that Aeo­lus did bestow upon me three of this world’s winds—but he would not be per­suaded to give me the west wind, the wind that would have got­ten us all home by [din­ner] time tomor­row. It is also true that he warned me to be most care­ful with the winds as we set out (the first time) from his home. But how was I to know that my [idiot] crew might let out all the winds when I was napping?

I awoke from my [after­noon nap] yes­ter­day just in time to see Ithaca, and our shin­ing home up on the hill, and just in time to catch the [Nean­derthals] let­ting the winds go wild, kick­ing up a typhoon or two and send­ing our ships off course for the [umpteenth] time. If truth be told, I am com­ing to enjoy bat­tling these storms Posei­don keeps send­ing my way; he is a much bet­ter foe than those [half-witted] Tro­jans. It has been said that a man could not ever defeat a god, should not even attempt it, but some­times, in the dead of night, I think it might be pos­si­ble, given a bit more time. Alas, I must return to you…

We are back with Aeo­lus again, and, again, he [grumpily] refuses to help us out. So we will set out once more, with­out the help of any winds in my [ruck­sack], tomor­row. I am sure to be home within the month, bar­ring any more dis­as­ters or bat­tles I must fight.

My love to Tele,
Odysseus

TELEPYLUS

My Penny,

Sorry it has been so long. We had this issue with the Laestry­go­ni­ans recently: the Laestry­go­ni­ans are giants, indeed, and can­ni­bals at that. Bat­tle them we did [of course], but they ate most of my men when we arrived here last month– and what they did not eat, they destroyed by rock­et­ing boul­ders off of the tall cliffs of Telepy­lus. Of 12 ships, I have one left and very few men. Per­haps that will make it eas­ier to not be fur­ther way­laid by the adventure’s storms that seem deter­mined to keep us from join­ing you, and our son, in Ithaca.

Soon,
Odysseus

AEAEA

Penny,

I know it’s been a while… I got tied up with this woman—a witch god­dess, really—Circe is her name. But it’s not what you’re think­ing! Hon­estly, the year just flew by! I guess [time flies] when you’re wor­ry­ing over a witch god­dess intox­i­cat­ing you with drugs and alco­hols, turn­ing your men into swine, and gen­er­ally enslav­ing you with love. Yes, love. Truth be told, Circe has some­thing of a [crush] on me—and you know what a [flirt] I am. I never could resist a woman throw­ing her­self at me. And after she returned my men to their human form, we all felt we needed a break from all the drama (the pirates, the storms, the giants, the can­ni­bals, the Cyclops—in case you need a [refresher]) and the food and wine at Circe’s are so good. The beds are quite com­fort­able, as well. Of course, I remem­ber that the food and wine—and beds!—are good at home in Ithaca as well. So, well-rested, fed and happy, we are on our way again once more. The men are quite a bit more cheer­ful, given all the will­ing women on Aeaea, so you can expect me [soonish].

Hello to the kid.
Odysseus

THE ENDS OF THE EARTH

So Penny,

I’m at the ends of the Earth today ([long story, I haven’t time to explain]), and who did I see? Why, the ghost of my dead mother! First of all, I would have liked to have known that my mother had passed. And, sec­ondly, would you believe what she told me? You have been keep­ing suit­ors at home! Hun­dreds of them! Between the war and my return jour­ney, I’ve been gone lit­tle over 12 years—13 at most!—And you have suit­ors at home? What our son must think!

I’m going to see what Circe has to say about this.
Odysseus

CALYPSO’S ISLAND

Dear Pene­lope,

I admit I was a lit­tle harsh and a bit rash last time I wrote… but it has been eight years now, and I have had more than enough time for [intro­spec­tion]. It’s been a tough jour­ney of late, though with my dear Circe’s help, I was able to nav­i­gate past the Sirens, past the six-headed mon­ster Schylla, past the evil whirlpool, Charyb­dis. And I passed them all with­out stop­ping for a fight! I hope [you know] how hard that was for me.

All was look­ing good until what few men I had left went and mur­dered Helios’s sacred cows, though I had warned them not to. Helios was angered—of course; [you know] how irra­tional the gods can be. Same old story: Helios sent a storm and we were ship­wrecked yet again. Only this time, all but I died. I washed ashore on Calypso’s Island and Calypso was kind enough to take me in. That was 6 or 7 years ago now, and you might won­der why I did not attempt to escape until now. Hon­estly, Pene­lope, Calypso is a great lover—and for the first few years I was here, I was still so angry about your suit­ors, that I wanted to get revenge. The last few years, it was sim­ply too hard to say good­bye to the life of lux­ury. Calyspo needs a lot of pro­tect­ing, there were no end to the demons and gods and mon­sters that needed fight­ing off. (It is nice to feel needed, [you know]).

It is not as [fun] as you might think, being a war hero con­stantly under siege by the gods, the seas, the mon­sters and the women who become [infat­u­ated] with you. And Calypso always had a glass of wine await­ing my return from the battlefield.

But I am [over it] now (Calypso may or may not have run out of wine), and on my way home, yet again. Expect me within a week or so, give or take a year. I will bat­tle the suit­ors and take my place beside you and our dear boy, Telemachus, once again.

Yours truly,
Odysseus

P.S. Do I have any more giant wooden horses [lying about]? I’m not sure how, yet, but I think it might come in handy when try­ing to break back into our home. Let me know! ✦