What this project is about.
This one is from Book 13.
Polyphemus and Galatea — Institute for the Study of the Ancient World
How long it took to read this (aloud): 12 mins 57s
What it’s “about”: Cyclops as incel/’unsuccessful’ suitor.
Compare that Onion story “Romantic Comedy Behavior Gets Real-Life Man Arrested” April 7, 1999.
Words I didn’t know: Arbute The meaning of ARBUTE is a tree of the genus Arbutus (Strawberry tree)
Quotable quotes:
Through friendly tides and able oarsmanship,
The Trojan boats sailed to the sands of Zancle
And dropped their anchors as night settled m.
Scylla made mischief to the right of them,
While wet Charybdis cursed them on the left.
One swallowed ships to spit them out again,
The other had her belly wreathed with dogs.
Her face was one of girlish innocence,
And if the poets aren’t a crew of liars,
Scylla was once an innocent and pure.
AND
To join the mermaids of the friendly sea
Who took her in their arms to show they loved her,
While she complained that men were stupid lovers.
AND
“Acis the son of Faunus and Symaethis
Was worshipped by his parents, but to me
He was the best, the loveliest of creatures
And, more than that, he gave me all his love;
He was sixteen and was a perfect beauty,
The first silk threads of hair at lips and chin;
To say I loved him is an understatement.
But Cyclops yearned for me both night and day;
I hated one as much I loved the other.
AND
Cyclops, contemptuous of Olympian powers,
Of goddesses as well as gods in clouds,
Burned like a torch at Venus’ inspiration,
Forgot to herd his sheep and guard his caves.
Then Polyphemus tried the arts of pleasing,
Took care of how he looked and raked his hair;
He scythed his beard, and stared at his wild face
That stared back at him from a crystal well.
He lost his flair for murder and destruction,.
And learned distaste for drinking bowls of blood.
The ships that had to sail his rocks and sandbars
Slipped by unwrecked, the monster seemed indifferent.
AND
she’s more raging than a raging bear,
Who battles for her young, O she’s grown deafer
Than those broad miles of ocean’s ceaseless waves,
And no more mercy than a snake that pierces
The foot that trips its tail. If I had wit,
I’d pluck these curses from you clean and swifter
Than the swift deer escapes the yelping hound.
AND
” ‘Each tree, each branch I own is thick with apples,
The grape bursts from the vine, or blue or gold,
And these are all for you — your hand may wander
Among flushed strawberries in forest green,
Cherries in October, and black-shaded plums,
Or if you will, the waxlike yellow, fresh-as-sunlight
Chestnuts, or for tart taste, arbute berry —
All these, then have me as your loving bridegroom,
Where every tree is yours for your desire.
” ‘All fine sheep are part of my estate,
Some in the valley, many in the forest,
Others are cared for through my winding caves.
If you would ask how many, I can’t say.
Only the poor man counts his, head by head.
Or don’t believe me — look, see that fat cow
Who staggers with her milk across the meadow?
And there are more: young lambs, young goats, young calves,
Stabled and warm. And snow-white milk to drink,
And some reserved for junkets and white cheeses.
” ‘As for the pets and creatures that I’ll get you,
They’ll all be rare: no small deer or tamed rabbits,
Or doves that seem to crowd these cliffs with young.
AND
‘That’s where you are,’ he said, ‘my pretty lovers,
I’ll crush your kisses in a last embrace.’
And like a Cyclops’ voice it roared aloud
Until it shook Mount Aetna with its echoes.
AND
As my Symaethian hero rose to run,
He screamed, ‘O Galatea, try to save me,
O father, mother, save me; I’m your son,
And since I’m almost dead, open your kingdom.’
Yet as he ran Cyclops was that much swifter;
He tossed a ton of mountain cliff in air,
And though wet clay and sod half missed the target,
A fragment was enough to bury Acis.
AND
Soon blood began to wet the mound above,
Then came a stream that looked like melting snow,
Mixed with spring rains into a little river
That ran away to leave dry clay behind it;
Then the mound cracked and a great reed grew from it
Beneath split rock and clay, spring waters rippled.
And O, this was the miracle that happened:
A boy rose waist-high from the gushing river;
His new homs held a crown of twisted reeds.
Though he was sea-blue color, like a statue,
Larger than life, I knew the boy was Acis —
A river god whose river took his name.”
How it lands to my eco-sensibility: xx
Obvious allusions, ways it was used (that I am aware of already) : xx
What I know I didn’t ‘get’: xx
To my knowledge, who’s used it why/how (RACC): xx
Further research questions: xx
Anything else: xx
marchudson.net 
Leave a comment