Episode 72F – 525,600 Minutes – Myths Your Teacher Hated

Episode 72F Show Notes

Source: Greek Mythology

This week on MYTH, it’s time to drink the night away and then some. You’ll see that some people want to get home more than others, that drinking yourself sick eventually gets old, and that you shouldn’t pass out on the roof. Then, in Gods and Monsters, you’ll discover the creepy story behind a simple instrument. This is the Myths Your Teacher Hated podcast, where I tell the stories of cultures from around the world in all of their original, bloody, uncensored glory. Modern tellings of these stories have become dry and dusty, but I’ll be trying to breathe new life into them. This is Episode 72F, “525,600 Minutes”. As always, this episode is not safe for work.
When we left the story last time, we’d picked up just after the end of the Trojan War. . Things had gone bad almost immediately, and wise Odysseus had led his men into disaster after disaster: getting bloodied after raiding a random city for shits and giggles, getting his men stoned on premium lotus, getting men killed in the home of Polyphemus the Cyclops and then getting cursed by said Cyclops because Odysseus was too prideful not to reveal his real name, and almost getting home after some help from the King of the Winds only to get blown off course again because his men can’t stop being greedy while Odysseus naps. They’d stopped at another island to get their bearings and Odysseus had again run into deadly trouble, getting most of his men eaten by cannibal giants known as the Laestrygonians, leaving only the men on his lone ship alive to journey on. They’d reached what seemed like another deserted island only to see smoke rising in the distance. Half of them go scouting and get poisoned then turned into pigs by the powerful sorceress Circe, prompting Odysseus (with some wingman action from Hermes) to go and defeat Circe’s magic with magic herbs and his nearly-magic penis. Hypnotized by his Big Dick Energy, Circe vowed not to harm him or his men and then the two climbed into bed.
While Circe and Odysseus were making with the sexy-sexy in her big bed, her four handmaids (who apparently existed even though no one has seen any of them before this very moment) bustled about the halls doing all of the cleaning, each of them nymphs. Circe was herself at least a demigod, daughter of the sun god Helios and the ocean nymph Perse, and is sometimes referred to in the tale as a goddess. None of that changes the fact that Odysseus is still very married to his wife Penelope, who has been patiently waiting for him back on Ithaca. Odysseus is kind of an asshole though, and he doesn’t let a little thing like marriage vows keep him from doing the nasty with a goddess he’s known for like all of ten minutes.
The handmaids turn the hall into a sex den, draping the furniture in rich red linens, laying out golden dishes on silver tables with fresh bread and strong wine in golden cups and silver bowls, and heating up water in a huge cauldron for a bath. Odysseus has been either at war or at sea for over a decade now, and although he probably got cleaned up while visiting the palace of the winds, that was days and disasters ago, so he’s probably pretty ripe. I don’t blame Circe for wanting him to scrape off some of the funk. In keeping with the theme of romance novel sexy time, Circe bathes Odysseus herself, rubbing the exhaustion out of his muscles with strong but delicate fingers. Once he was clean, she rubbed him down with fine oils to make him smell good and give his hero muscles that sexy glistening effect.
She does give him a fleece and a shirt (though there’s no mention of pants, so do with that what you will) and sits him down in an ornately carved chair with a footstool to really help him relax. One of the handmaids set up a table beside the chair with the intoxicating aroma of fresh bread wafting from it. Odysseus had to be hungry for something that wasn’t old and dried, but he was also clever and fairly honorable, so he kept his wits about him and played the long game. Try though they might to tempt him with fine food, Odysseus refused to eat, instead brooding intensely into the middle distance. Circe bought the tortured hero look completely. “Odysseus, why eat your heart out like that when there’s this fresh bread to eat instead? Do you still fear that I mean you some treachery, even though I swore my solemn, binding oath?”
Odysseus knew that gods, even the lesser progeny of the more minor gods, could be very touchy where their honor was concerned, so he hastened to clarify what had him all alluringly aloof and serious. “Circe, how could I or any man with a heart enjoy these luxuries when his comrades in arms are still the victims of powerful magic? There’s simply no way that I can eat until I can look my men in the eye again.” Circe, who desperately wanted to jump his bones (having been alone out here for a long, long time) went immediately out to the pig pens and drove the swine out into the fields where Odysseus could see them. Making sure he was watching her, she anointed the pigs with a new magical oil that not only made them human again, it made them younger, taller, and sexier to boot. Seriously, this scene is just full of cheesecake for anyone who likes muscular men.
Each of the men recognized Odysseus at once and ran to shake his hand in gratitude, all of them crying tears of joy (because in all seriousness, it’s good for men to be able to cry and share powerful emotions together and the ancient Greeks knew that). Circe was herself moved by this display of manly affection. “Mighty Odysseus, royal son of Laertes, why not go fetch the rest of your men from your ship and bring them back here? You can haul the ship onto the shore and stow your cargo and gear in the nearby caves to keep them safe while you all relax for a bit.”
Having gotten what he wanted, Odysseus saw no reason not to take her up on her offer of hospitality (what with her sacred vow not to hurt him or his men providing a pretty potent degree of safety). Leaving his newly de-transformed men at the hall, Odysseus went to the shore to find the other half of his men weeping at what they were certain was the death of everyone who had gone to confront the witch in the woods. Their bitter tears of sorrow turned to sweet tears of joy at the sight of Odysseus striding out of the woods looking fresh and clean and strong and definitely not dead. “You’re back! My king, we thought you lost, but you’re here again! Seeing you is almost like seeing Ithaca again. What about the others? Are they okay?”
“They’re safe and relaxed. Come, there’s a feast waiting for us! Let’s get the ship safely hauled all the way on the beach and stow everything in those caves. After that, I’ll take you to see our friends in the magic halls of fair Circe where the party never ends!” The sailors were pretty fucking stoked to hear that the island’s inhabitant was throwing a party instead of, you know, murdering all of them and they all jumped to follow Odysseus’ orders. Well, all except for Eurylochus who had watched their supposedly friendly hostess turn all of his friends into pigs with magic. Ensorcell me once, shame on you; ensorcell me twice, shame on me.
“Why the hell are you poor fools all rushing to go tempt fate? If we march blindly into Circe’s halls, she’ll end up turning us into pigs or wolves or lions and while that does sound pretty metal, she’ll make us be her lapdog guardians! She’ll ensnare our minds and take away our free will. We’ve only just managed to avoid this trap and now you all want to willingly put your necks back into the noose? This is that fiasco with the Cyclops all over again. Or have you all forgotten that this arrogant, impetuous hothead Odysseus was there beside them in that mess? Thanks to his terrible decisions, those men are dead and you’ll be next!”
Odysseus considered Eurlochus’ speech, accurate though it might be, to be mutiny and he put a hand on his sword, fully intending to behead the traitor right there on the spot. Lucky for Eurylochus, their comrades saw Odysseus grinding his teeth and stepped between the two men to try and calm Odysseus down before he did something he couldn’t undo. They convinced their captain that it was a much better use of resources to let Eurylochus stay with the ship by himself and be its guard. Everybody wins that way. Odysseus saw the merit in their suggestion (and probably worried a little that executing a lieutenant for making some very reasonable objections might lead to a much bigger mutiny) and agree to let Eurylochus stay behind if he wanted when the rest of them went to the halls of Circe. When everyone headed inland however, Eurylochus was too worried to be all alone in this dangerous place and trailed along at the very back of the group, as far as he could possibly get from Odysseus.
When this second party arrived, they found that Circe had helped the first group get cleaned up and rubbed down with oil before dressing them in clean, comfy clothes like their captain. They were all gathered around tables in the grand hall, and the two groups of manly soldiers shared a group hug and a group cry at seeing each other safe and sound again. Eventually, Circe begged Odysseus to get his men under control. “Royal son of Laertes, man of action, I know how terrible things have been for you on the open sea since leaving tall Troy, but you’re all safe now so could you stop with the sadness already? It’s kind of bumming me out. I’ve got good food and strong wine, and I don’t know anything better to make soldiers feel like themselves again.”
The Ithacans were all too happy to turn their attentions to a feast. They hadn’t eaten a proper meal that wasn’t dried and salted since leaving the Island of the Winds, and rarely enough for the ten years before that. Real, solid, home cooked food and rich wine was a luxury and a delight. Finally, here was a place where they could safely relax and enjoy themselves. And so they did, feasting and partying day in and day out until, before long, a full 525,600 minutes had passed them by, a year that they had measured in wine and feasts
Honestly, Odysseus doesn’t seem all that concerned about trying to get home anymore. Maybe almost making it and being blown off course again broke him a little, or maybe he was just enjoying a life of infidelity and endless partying too much to care, but his men grew restless. As their anniversary of arriving on Circe’s island came and went, they came to talk to Odysseus. “Captain, this is madness! We still want to get home at some point, don’t you? It’s high time we head out again, don’t you think?”
Odysseus, who was having hot meals and hotter sex on the reg for the first time in a decade, took some convincing, but the pleas of all of his men brought his stubborn soul around. He did have a sense of duty buried somewhere inside his selfish heart. He waited until everyone had drifted off to sleep after another day of drinking and feasting, and then he took Circe aside for a private conversation in the bed they had shared for a year now.
“My sweet Circe, you made a promise to me once that you would help me get home when the time came.” That wasn’t part of the promise she swore when they first met, so I can only assume it was part of their pillow talk sometime during their lusty year. “My heart begins to yearn for home again, as do those of my comrades. If it were just me, I might stay anyway, but the men are my responsibility and they plead constantly for me to take us home whenever you’re not around.” It seems a little shitty to put the blame on his men when he’s the commanding officer, but it’s also totally in keeping with his character so far.
Circe sighed deeply. She’d always known this wouldn’t last, and she’d noticed the men getting more surly lately. “Odysseus, my dear soldier, I would not make you stay in my house against your will, but your path does not lead to home just yet. First, you must travel down to the House of Death, the land of the great Persephone. There, you must seek out the shade of Tiresias, seer of Thebes (a name you might remember from Episode 72B). The great blind prophet retains his power and, even in death, Persephone has granted him wisdom and everlasting vision. Most flitting shades are empty, insubstantial things, but not Tiresias.”
That was not what Odysseus had been expecting to hear. He knew as well as anyone how few heroes had made the journey into Hades and come back out again, as well as a few who had tried and failed. At this news, he knelt at Circe’s knees and wept, his heart crushed. Again, he briefly flirted with the idea of ending his life and giving up this insane quest to get home, but once he’d had a good cry, he felt a little better. “Circe, my dear Circe – who could possibly be our guide on that journey? Has anyone ever reached that dusky House of Death in a black ship?”
Circe held Odysseus and made soothing sounds. “Have no fear Odysseus, for you were born for adventure. You don’t need a pilot at the helm to guide your ship when you have my advice instead. Spread your white sails wide and let the North Wind carry you on your way from this island. Once your ship has crossed the Oceanus River, you will come to a desolate coast, empty and lifeless save for Persephone’s Grove. There, you will see tall black poplars standing tall against the blasted landscape, interspersed with willows whose fruit dies young. Beach your vessel there, by the Oceanus’ churning shore, and you will find the entrance to the Land of the Dead. You will see where Cocytus, the River of Tears, and Phlegethon, the River of Fire, flow into Acheron, the River of Woes, branching off from Styx, the River of Hate. Above the place where dread waters thunder looms a stark crag. There, dear hero, dig a trench the length and depth of your forearm and pour out offerings to the dead – first of milk and honey, then of wine, and then of water. Then, sprinkle fresh barley over the lot of it and repeat over and over a vow to the dead that, when at last you return to Ithaca, you will slaughter a fat heifer for them and build a pyre loaded with treasure for the restless dead. For Tiresias, offer in addition a black ram, the king of your herds, as his sacrifice for his advice.
“Once you’ve finished offering your prayers to invoke the dead in all their faded glory, slaughter a ram and a black ewe and turn their heads towards Erebus (both a primordial god of darkness and the region of Hades where shades first entered the Underworld, though this passage probably refers to the latter). Whatever you do, don’t look when you do this, instead gazing out towards the Oceanus River. The countless shades of the restless dead will swarm you then, so you will need to have your men flay the skins from the two sheep that lay at your feet, killed by the ruthless edge of your blade, and burn them both then say a prayer to Persephone and to her husband Hades, dread lord of the dead. And you, Odysseus – you draw your sword then and use it to drive the hungry spirits of the dead away from the fresh blood of the burned offering, refusing to let them drink of it’s rich, hot life until you have questioned the sage Tiresias. He alone can tell you the way to go, how to cross the vast expanse of the tractless ocean and find your home again. That’s all the help I can offer, valiant Odysseus.”
As Circe finished speaking, the sun rose gently above the horizon, washing over Odysseus and his sleeping men. Wordlessly, she dressed Odysseus, her hands lingering on his skin for what would likely be the last time. Once he was ready, she slipped on a rich, silky robe tied with a belt of brocaded gold, and she bound up her hair with a filmy scarf. She watched as Odysseus woke his men and told them the news that they were to set out for home once more.
This Odyssey was still cursed and the gods of Olympus could be very patient when they wanted to. A lousy year had not made them forget, and it was a man named Elpenor who paid the price this time. He was the youngest soldier left alive, and described by Odysseus as being neither overly brave nor terribly clever. During the previous night’s drinking, Elpenor had wandered outside to get some air (and probably puke his guts out a little). Being totally shit faced, he’d climbed up on the roof and then passed the fuck out. When he heard Odysseus shouting for everyone to wake up and head for the ship, he was so excited and hung over that he completely forgot where he was and ran right off the edge. The poor kid fell head-first and broke his neck, which was at least a swifter death than most of his fellows had suffered.
Odysseus waited until everyone was out of the palace and headed towards the ship again before breaking the news. “Okay, I know I said we were headed home and we are, but we’ve got a bit of a detour to make first. Circe gave me a lead on how to find a safe passage home, but we’re going to have to travel into the Land of the Dead first. We’ll need to make sure not to get on Persephone’s bad side so that we can have time to consult with the dead seer Tiresias. It’ll be fun, right?”
The men were understandably horrified at the news of their destination. They also knew the stories of the many men who had tried what they were about to attempt, and the very, very few who had succeeded. They wailed in terror and begged Odysseus to change his mind. Surely there had to be another way to get home! If they sailed willingly into death, none of them would ever return. Odysseus let them scream and cry and curse, and then he ordered them to sail north. Their only other option being mutiny, they obeyed. Maybe Odysseus could actually pull this off.
Somehow (I’m guessing magic), Circe made it to the black hull before Odysseus and his men. There, she had tethered a ram and a black ewe for the required sacrifice (which meant that they didn’t have to raid random towns until they found what they needed). The sheep were waiting for them when they arrived, but Circe had already come and gone, unseen and unheard. No mortal can see a goddess when she doesn’t want to be seen. And so, with Odysseus and his men on their way to dusty death, it’s time for Gods and Monsters. This is a segment where I get into a little more detail about the personalities and history of one of the gods or monsters from this week’s pantheon that was not discussed in the main story. This week’s nymph is Syrinx.
Syrinx was a nymph who entered into myth due to unwanted male attention but, to get to that story, we first need to talk a little about the wild god Pan. This rustic god of uncivilized places is one of the oldest Greek gods, potentially predating the Olympians themselves (since some stories have him gifting Artemis with her first hunting hounds and others have him teaching Apollo the secrets of prophecy). The stories of Pan’s birth vary wildly from source to source, with his father usually being either Apollo or Hermes (though Zeus and Dionysus are both candidates as well, although all of these contradict the previous stories) and his mother being anyone from some random nymph to Odysseus’ distant wife Penelope.
Regardless of who his mother was, she was definitely surprised to see little baby Pan since, even as a newborn, he was a strange looking little fellow complete with horns, a long beard, a short pug-like snout, and goat legs. As a result of terrifying his mother and being at least half god, he was taken in by the Olympians and raised as a god, eventually joining the wild wandering retinue of Dionysus. He made his home in the mountains of Arcadia (with his name coming from the ancient Arcadian word for ‘rustic’, although it was later associated with the Greek word for ‘all’) and became associated with sex, wilderness, and shepherds.
In those same Arcadian mountains lived the nymph Syrinx, daughter of the river god Ladon. She was a beautiful maiden of the forest and modeled her life after Artemis, virgin goddess of the hunt. Her beauty was such that she soon grew tired of being constantly pursued by men and gods who didn’t like to take ‘no’ for an answer. In response to constant sexual harassment, Syrinx took a vow of chastity. The bad news was that this did almost nothing to discourage her creepy pursuers; the good news was that, being a forest nymph, she was perfectly capable of running these men into the fucking ground and escape. She knew these woods better than any of them, and none could keep up with her when she wanted to flee.
Enter Pan. He was wandering the empty places of the Arcadian mountains as he was wont to do when he came upon the beautiful Syrinx. As is so often the case with the asshole gods, Pan fell immediately in lust with this nymph that he had literally not even spoken to and decided that she would be his without bothering about pesky concerns like ‘her opinion’ or ‘consent’. Syrinx knew that look and didn’t wait for him to be the dick he was about to be and immediately took off running. Like many so-called “nice guys”, Pan was mad that she didn’t wait to hear his compliments and then immediately drop her panties, and he took off in pursuit.
Syrinx was a skilled huntress, so she fully expected to lose his ass within a few hundred feet, but Pan was every bit as familiar with these mountains as she was and also had godly speed and stamina. He could run as fast as she could and thread the trees as nimbly as she could. He couldn’t quite catch her, but she couldn’t quite lose him either. They were locked in a stalemate. For days, the two of them raced through the fields and forests, neither able to end the chase. There are two versions of what happened next, though both are similar. According to Ovid, Syrinx came at last to the home of her sisters in Ladon’s river and found her way blocked. Knowing that Pan was right behind her and sure to catch her now, she begged them to hide her, to save her, to do something, anything. They used their power to change Syrinx into a reed growing along the banks of the river, one of countless identical plants.
Pan burst into the scene to see the water nymphs vanishing beneath the river and no sign of Syrinx. The wind blew plaintively through the empty field and across the dancing reeds. The soft breeze drew a melodic, bewitching chord from the reeds and Pan realized what must have happened. With a sigh, he took the entire clump of reeds (since he didn’t know exactly which one was her) and bound them together by length to make the first ever set of panpipes, vowing that one way or another, they were always going to be together.
In another version, Syrinx instead calls out to Zeus for aid, and it is he who turns her into a reed along the bank of the river. Pan was so angry at being denied his opportunity to compliment Syrinx (because he was just being friendly, dammit), he smashed the reeds on the rocks. He was immediately remorseful (as abusive people often are) and tried to fix the broken reeds, but that’s not how that works. He collected the broken reeds and tried to kiss them, and his hot breath caused a melody to float out from the shattered reeds. He took the 7 pieces (or 9, depending on the version) and bound them together. Though today, we mostly know them as the panpipes, they were originally known by the Greeks as the syrinx, a name that is still used today, since Pan wanted to make sure that the name of his beloved nymph was never lost (and we’ll never get to find out what she thought about the arrangement). True to his word, he was usually seen with his pipes from then on, making the instrument synonymous with shepherds and satyrs alike. So if you’re ever being chased through the woods by a creeptastic “nice guy” who just wants to compliment you whether you want one or not, don’t ask Zeus for help or things might get weird.
That’s it for this episode of Myths Your Teacher Hated. Keep up with new episodes on our Facebook page, on iTunes, on Stitcher, on TuneIn, and on Spotify, or you can follow us on Twitter as @HardcoreMyth and on Instagram as Myths Your Teacher Hated Pod. You can also find news and episodes on our website at myths your teacher hated dot com. If you have any questions, any gods or monsters you’d want to learn about, or any ideas for future stories that you’d like to hear, feel free to drop me a line. I’m trying to pull as much material from as many different cultures as possible, but there are all sorts of stories I’ve never heard, so suggestions are appreciated. The theme music is by Tiny Cheese Puff, whom you can find on fiverr.com.
Next time, we’ll journey into death with Odysseus and his men. You’ll see that your mother is never too dead to talk your ear off, that Persephone has a reputation, and that some people are just dying to talk to Odysseus. Then, in Gods and Monsters, you’ll see that the only thing standing between you and world domination is dirty ears and snake tongues. That’s all for now. Thanks for listening.