[CENSORED]
Mrs. Marshall
English 10H
28 January 2019
Dreamy Hunks, Pigs, and a Flawless Bed of Love
I wouldn't call myself a witch exactly, a lady maybe, or a lovely goddess, but definitely not a witch. So, when Odysseus and his crew of rampant men dropped onto my island of Aiaia and accused me of being a witch, let's just say that I was not pleased. They had arrived under calm seas and a bright sky, however their mood, as I observed, did not reflect the weather's. For the first two days after their arrival, Odysseus and his men moped around the rocky crag they had found shelter in, as my nymphs told me when they patrolled the area. Thus, I was prepared for unwelcome guests when Odysseus' men finally ventured out towards my dwelling. I swiftly seated myself when the heavy footsteps of boisterous men began to vibrate through the ground and began to sing while weaving the fabric of ambrosia on my loom. By showing off my beauty before them, I was testing their reaction, would they take advantage of this seemingly lovely goddess? Reassured that there was no danger, the crew of men entered my home and rudely demanded themselves to be wined and dined, like pigs.
Afterwards, they would claim that I slipped something in the wine, "to make them lose desire or thought of [their] dear father land," (Homer 172) but the fools had their own reluctance to return home confused with a drug that they were supposedly influenced by. After all, it wasn't my fault that these men were weak-minded pigs, losing their resolve when presented with the sight of food. As the crew of men sat there and prepared themselves for some grand feast, I, the unacknowledged host was quickly beginning to get angry. With a burst of fury, I turned the men into what they were acting like, dirty swine. And so, the dirty swine were fed the feast that they deserved, a feast of pig slop. With the nasty pest problem taken care of, I sat back to enjoy the food on the table, the food that I myself worked hard to obtain.
Sometime later, Odysseus must have heard his crewmates' raucous squealing from inside the pigsty, as he appeared at my front door stone-faced. As I checked him out, it soon became apparent that if I was known as the lovely goddess, then by Zeus' old raggedy beard, this man had to be the strapping captain, Odysseus. Being the hospitable host, I invited Odysseus inside for a drink, as his men did just a couple of minutes ago. As I prepared his drink, a bit more alcohol than usually recommended was added. To my surprise, Odysseus was no lightweight, and yet he did not rudely demand more wine as his companions did. This man was a gentleman, not a pig, he did not deserve to be turned into a pig, however he had come to investigate his crew's disappearance. I knew that he would discover what had happened sooner rather than later, so pushing my feelings aside, I preceded with the transformation. Perhaps pretty-faced Odysseus wasn't all that gentlemanly though, considering that as soon as the spell was cast, I found myself with a sword to the throat. "Great, Kirke that's why we don't cast spells on someone that's still sober," I thought to myself. Left with no other choice, I sunk to the ground in a begging position, "What champion, of what country, can you be?" (175), feigning ignorance, then realization of his identity was probably my best hope, as if I hadn't already known his name at the front door from those marvelous muscular arms. Thinking quickly, I proposed an alternative plan to me getting my head chopped off. It had been a few centuries since my flawless bed of love saw any action, and I was more than eager to skoodilypoop with the well-toned Odysseus.
The dreamy hunk answered, "Kirke, am I a boy, that you should make me soft and doting now? Here in this house you turned my men to swine," (175). "Oops," I thought, somehow the secret had gotten out, reevaluating those nymphs' loyalties moved a bit higher on my to-do list. Lusty and left with no choice, I swore to Odysseus that there were no more tricks up my sleeve for him, which was true.
Later, we had a lovely time fornicating in my flawless bed of love. After much passion, my nymphs to bathed and oiled Odysseus, and then we met for what some might call a first date, at the table where a banquet of bread was spread. Sadly, Odysseus' conversational skills were not as great as his skoodilypooping skills, which he blamed on lack of company and then demanded his crew of men returned to their original human forms. Slightly offended that I was not considered 'good company,' the pigs were begrudgingly turned back into men. After all the pigs were men again, I turned and saw Odysseus' face light up in joy as he was reunited with the company of his men. Enjoying his delight so much, I insisted to him that he bring the rest of his crew into my home, knowing that no captain could man a ship as big as his with only twenty-two men and that the rest of his crew must still be by the cove with the ship. Charmed by my loveliness, Odysseus agreed and soon returned with the rest of his company in tow. While he was gone, I was obliged to care for the rude men left behind my household, however the reunion between the crew afterwards was truly heartening. Later, with my charming looks and smooth wits, I was able to persuade the strapping captain to stay with me in my flawless bed of love.
Soon, a year of passions passed with Odysseus and for some unfathomable reason he felt the need to leave. When he approached our well-worn bed of love, I told him about what he must do, with Teiresias and the prophecy and how he should go about achieving this. A well of sadness began to arise within me as I spoke, growing attached to this man over the passion-filled year was clearly not part of my plan. When the next day arrived, I wistfully dressed Odysseus and myself in the finest clothes of the island. And when he left to wake his crew, I quickly placed my gifts, a "black ewe and a ram" (182), onto their ship, thus avoiding a last goodbye to my lover in person. Alas, unbeknownst to me at that time, my Odysseus would later return to Aiaia to fulfill the request of a fellow crewmate for a burial, but that my friends, is a story for another day.
