But One Man Alone...

Sing to me of the Man, Muse, the man of twists and turns

driven time and again off course, once he had plundered

the hallowed heights of Troy

Many cities of men he saw and learned their minds,

many pains he suffered, heartsick on the open sea,

fighting to save his life and bring his comrades home.

But he could not save them from disaster, hard as he strove-

the recklessness of their own ways destroyed them all,

the blind fools, they devoured the cattle of the Sun

and the Sungod wiped from sight the day of their return.

Launch out on his story, Muse, daughter of Zeus,

start from where you will-sing for our time too. 

My brother was always into Greek mythology growing up. Thanks to him, my parents took us to see "Clash of the Titans" and as a four year old, the film made a huge impression on me. We went out and bought the toys released to coincide with the film. We'd go play in our backyard, imagining that we were vanquishing Medusa and turning the Kraken into stone. We'd watch the film whenever it was on cable.  

Thanks to that film, I tried to learn as much as I could about Greek mythology as I could. I'd scour through our set of encyclopedias, reading all the entries I could about the Greeks. I recall being stoked that we got to spend two weeks studying the ancient Greeks while I was in sixth grade. Shortly thereafter, I had my first exposure to Homer when I read "The Illiad" in seventh grade. I remember being struck by the vividness of the language, by the breadth of the characters...and by the violence. Up to that point, I had never read anything that violent and dark in my young life, and I was hooked. 

In tenth grade, we got to read "The Odyssey." Perhaps it was getting older and growing up a bit, but I was fascinated far more by the emotional undercurrents of Odysseus's journey than the fantastic elements of it. At that age, I could somehow relate to Odysseus. He was absolutely alone, subject to the whims of the gods, searching for home. But I also took from his story that his tale was not tragic. It was because of his hubris that he suffered what he did. His arrogance was to thank for his pain, his travails, his loneliness. He only had himself to blame.