Episode 72U – Family Reunion – Myths Your Teacher Hated

Episode 72U Show Notes

Source: Greek Mythology

This week on MYTH, it’s a long overdue reunion, tender and tearful. You’ll see that if you want murder done you should probably do it yourself, that Odysseus is very confident in his battle skills, and that Penelope can only take so much before she loses it. Then, in Gods and Monsters, it’s the towering bronze giant standing between you and your Cretan vacation. 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 72U, “Family Reunion”. 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. Odysseus spent nearly ten years sailing around the mythical world getting into shenanigans and getting every last one of his men killed along the way. He’d dallied with the witch Circe for a year and with the nymph Calypso for 7 years before finally washing up on the island of the Phaeacians and meeting the princess Nausicaa. Her father had helped Odysseus out with a ride on one of their magical ships, depositing him back on the shores of Ithaca once more at long last. Of course, as we’ve seen, things have gone to shit while the king has been away, and Odysseus’ son Telemachus has been on his own mini odyssey in search of news of his father. Athena has helped him come up with a lot of great stories but not much in the way of concrete information, so he decides to head back home. Unbeknownst to him, the suitors who have invaded the palace to try and marry Odysseus’ wife Penelope and take his throne have laid an ambush for the young prince, intent on murdering him and removing one of the last remaining obstacles. Odysseus finally made it home and Athena revealed herself before using god magic to disguise the returning hero as an old beggar. Telemachus got some good omens and headed back to Ithaca to wait for his father, who had already beat him home. Odysseus meanwhile had gotten the backstory of his slave, Eumaeus, finishing up just in time for the young prince to head to the swineherd’s hut.
Dawn came, and Odysseus (still disguised as a filthy old beggar) took breakfast with Eumaeus the swineherd while the other pig herders went out to, well, herd pigs. From the shore where his ship had dropped him off, Telemachus approached the shack and was greeted by the guard dogs. Unlike Odysseus, the young prince was very well known to the dogs and they greeted him as an old friend, nuzzling and yipping for attention. Odysseus noticed the difference in behavior of the pack from his own violent arrival and guessed that this approaching stranger must be someone Eumaeus knew well.
No sooner had Odysseus mentioned this newcomer to his host than Telemachus stepped across the hut’s threshold. Eumaeus looked up and was shocked to see his own beloved prince standing there. He dropped the bowl of cheap wine he’d been mixing and rushed over to embrace Telemachus in relief for his safe return. Like the surrogate father figure he was, he kissed the young man in welcome, hugging him for dear life. He’d been low-key certain that the prince had met his doom out on the waves and would never come home, so this was a delightful surprise. “You’re home, Telemachus! I never thought I’d see you alive again after you sailed off for Pylos in secret like that! Come in, come in, sit down and take a load off. You don’t visit me often anymore, almost like you enjoy seeing that herd of infernal suitors lounging about your house.”
“Hardly, Eumaeus. It’s good to see you, old man and I’ve landed out here specifically to talk to you and get the news before heading back to the palace. Does mother still hold her own there or has some other man managed to force her into marriage at last? Is my father’s bed going to be cast aside to rot, empty and forgotten by all but the spiders who will blanket it with cobwebs?” “She waits still, alone and suffering in those empty halls, wasting away the nights and weeping away the days. She’s had a hard life, that poor woman.”
Eumaeus took the boy’s bronze spear and laid it aside, bringing Telemachus inside as his guest. As he entered, the disguised Odysseus stood to offer his seat to the island’s prince, still deep in his role as a penniless wanderer, but Telemachus waved the old man back into his seat. “Stay where you are, stranger. I can find myself another seat somewhere here on the farm. No need for you to give up your spot for me.” Even as he spoke, the swineherd pulled together a fresh bundle of green branches and covered it with a thick sheepskin for a makeshift seat. There, Telemachus sat down next to his long-missing father, completely unbeknownst to him. Odysseus of course knew what the score was by now, but as we’ve seen, he’s a cautious sort and so he’s going to test and probe his almost grown son to see what kind of man he’s become before revealing himself.
As was proper, Eumaeus pulled together platters of roast meat left from the previous night’s meal (the best he could do on short notice), served them the freshest bread he had, and mixed a new bowl of wine. The three men shared a meal together before discussing the more serious issues at hand. Telemachus asked his host and servant about this old stranger. “Where’s your new friend from, Eumaeus? Why did the sailors drop him all the way out here in the ass end of nowhere? I mean, I can hardly imagine he hiked all the way out here on his own for shits and giggles.”
Eumaeus gave the prince a condensed version of the pack of lies Odysseus had spun for him and then told the prince that he’d promised the old wanderer the protection of the young prince and an offer of shelter. Telemachus sighed deeply. “Shelter? How can I offer a stranger refuge in my house, young as I am? I can barely trust my hands to have the skill to protect myself if someone comes at me, let alone someone else too. Plus there’s that whole bullshit with my mother, constantly vacillating between staying in my father’s empty household to care for me and his estate and people or to finally give in and marry the best available Achaean courting her and offering her gifts. I’m not sure I have shelter to offer, but I can definitely scrounge up a clean shirt and a warm cloak for our new friend. He’ll be a lot more comfortable in that than in the rags he’s in now. I’ll also get him a keen sword and some new sandals so he can wander in safety and comfort to wherever his heart desires. Unless you two were thinking about him staying here, which is fine too. I’ll send over the clothes and make sure food is sent as well to keep him fed without draining your stores, Eumaeus. It’s not your job to feed him, though I appreciate that you’ve done so. I just can’t justify sending him to that house of vipers. It’s not safe. They’ll mock and abuse him for being too weak to fight back, and that would break my heart. He’d never last against that mob; they’re much too strong.”
Odysseus had heard enough. “Friend, surely it’s my decision whether or not to risk these assholes. It tears me apart hearing the two of you telling how these reckless leeches have cast you both out of your own home against your will and even plot your ruin and destruction! Tell me young prince – do you let yourself be abused so, or is it maybe that the people of this island despise you for something you did, or something some god did? Or maybe your brothers are at fault? Brothers can be the most trustworthy friends to have at your back in a pinch, but they can also be little shitheads. Would that I were still as young and strong as you, young man, that I were the son of the great Odysseus or even the king himself, returned from his long exile and wandering! I believe there’s still hope for his return.
“Let some foreigner lop my head off if I failed to march right up to the palace gates and slaughter them to the last fucking man. And if I died, crushed by their superior numbers in a hopeless battle, just me screaming defiance against the oncoming storm? Then at least I died a good death. I’d rather be cut down defending my house and my honor than have to sit and endure their insults and outrage day after day after day. I mean hell: guests being beaten, men dragging serving women off to be raped, everyone being shamelessly exploited – it’s all too much to bear. The endless feasting, the oceans of wine downed just for the joy of being shitfaced, and all to no end since their courtship of the lady just goes on and on forever!”
That’s a bit of a harsh judgment from an apparently frail old beggar who won’t have to carry through on his grandiose promises. Of course, we know that this is the mythic hero Odysseus, and he means every last godsdamned word of it. Telemachus could hear the sincerity in the old man’s voice, and he nodded in agreement with his verdict. “You are right, my friend, but listen and hear the whole story before passing judgment. It’s certainly not that all of Ithaca’s people have turned on me, howling for my blood. I also have no brothers to speak of, so it’s not their fault but I also don’t have them to call on to have my back when shit goes down. Zeus has made my family a long line of only sons. My father Odysseus disappeared to go fight a war when I was still a babe, leaving me an only child and finding no joy in my existence. He abandoned me to a plague of locusts and swarms of enemies – the nobles who rule the smaller islands around ours, Dulichion, Same, and emerald Zacynthus as well, they hope to increase their power and take my father’s place as lord of the isles. Down to the last man, these noble houses court my mother and lay waste to my house in the process.
“My mother cannot afford to reject these proposals, even though she despises all of them, since outright rejection would end the courtship and bring this whole thing to a nasty conclusion. Instead, she waffles and waits, and those vermin bleed my house dry while we linger. They’ll come for me soon, just you wait. But enough. Eumaeus, please go tell Penelope that I’m home safe from Pylos. I’ll stay here for the moment. Come back here as soon as you’ve given her the word and tell no one else that I’m back alive. No other Achaean must know – too many plot my death.”
Eumaeus considered these words and found them wise. “I will do as you say, my prince. One thing though – should I tell old Laertes that you’ve returned as well? The poor guy has been heartsick for his missing son for too many years. He’s always been a good master to the servants, treating us well and dining with us whenever he wanted. Since you’ve been gone, he’s refused to eat even a bite and he’s wasting away, moaning and weeping in despair.”
Telemachus winced at this news. “That’s…hard to hear, but as much as I hate to say it, I think we need to leave him to his pain for a little longer. People don’t always get what they most want. If they did, I’d take my father’s safe return first and foremost. So no, don’t go roaming over the fields in search of Laertes after delivering my message to Penelope. Instead, tell my mother to send her most trusted housekeeper to give the old man the news in secret. That’ll be less suspicious.” Eumaeus stood and hurried off to obey his prince.
Naturally, Athena was watching all of this transpire in secret. There was no way that she was going to miss Odysseus seeing his son for the first time in two decades – that kind of drama was way too juicy. She watched Eumaeus head off and then transformed into a beautiful woman, tall and strong. Odysseus could see her as she entered, but she was invisible to young Telemachus. The gods rarely show themselves to mortals openly; Odysseus was a rare case. Animals often see what humans miss however, and the dogs clearly saw the hidden goddess. They cringed and cowered away from her obvious power even from the other side of the yard.
She motioned to Odysseus in an obvious signal, and so he stood and followed her outside. When they were beyond the stockade fence, Athena spoke. “Odysseus, son of Laertes, now is the time to tell your son the truth. It’s just the two of you here, and you can trust him. Tell him everything, all of it, so you can plot your revenge on those foul suitors. I’ll be right behind you when you go; my blood sings for battle!” Taking out her golden wand again, she restored Odysseus to his true form and sent him in to officially meet his long lost son.
Telemachus hadn’t seen the goddess leave, so the old beggar’s abrupt departure had been a bit odd. When someone stepped back inside therefore, he naturally glanced up to see what was going on. Only instead of the expected filthy stranger, he saw a tall, strong, lordly looking man or maybe a literal god who had walked amongst them in secret. He leapt to his feet in shock. “Friend you look…different than before. A completely new man! Even your clothes have somehow changed. Are…are you a god? Please, be kind to us lowly mortals! Spare us, and we will give you offerings to warm your divine heart!”
Odysseus smiled wryly. “I am no god. I am, like you, a mortal. You know my name, Telemachus. I am your father. Search your feelings; you know it to be true. I am that Odysseus who you wept for all these years, who’s absence has caused you such a world of cruel pain.” With these words, Odysseus embraced his son and kissed him tenderly, tears of joy streaming down his cheeks.
Telemachus was…not convinced. His father, who he’s never seen before, has been gone for twenty years with not a single sighting in all that time. Now, this random asshole shows up, changes clothes, and claims to be the man himself? Bullshit. “Liar! You are not Odysseus! You are not my father! You’re a wandering spirit here to confuse me and feast on my sorrow and pain. I don’t care what you claim, you’re no mortal. No mere human could completely change their appearance, lose their wrinkles, darken their hair in mere seconds! You are some mischievous minor god or baleful spirit. Begone!”
Odysseus was a little hurt by this denial, but he’d also kind of expected his son to have doubts. Odysseus certainly would have, were their positions reversed. “My son, do not marvel at my sudden appearance. I am Odysseus, the only Odysseus who will ever return to this island. I have been lost at sea for twenty years, wandering from disaster to disaster in my endless quest to come back home and finally, at long last, I am home. You’re right that I couldn’t have pulled that neat trick off without help. Athena is on my side and changed my appearance to protect the secret of my return. Such magics are simple for the mighty Olympians.”
Odysseus seated himself and Telemachus looked at him again, more closely. Now that he’d had a moment to process, he could see the resemblance to his own features in this man’s face. In that moment, he knew. He knew. Weeping, he rushed to hug his long absent father who had miraculously returned home like the answer to a prayer (which in a very real way, he literally is). Odysseus wept as well and hugged his son back, grateful to finally have the homecoming he’d dreamt of. After long minutes of this, Telemachus pulled away to ask his father how he’d gotten home. “Who brought you back here? I doubt you walked to the island.”
Odysseus gave his son a thumbnail sketch of his trip with the Phaeacians and told him of the treasure hoard he’d stashed in a cave near the coast with Athena’s help. “But enough of that for now. Come, tell me all about these…suitors that have infested my home. Tell me everything so I can put my scheming mind to work and see if I can devise a plan for us to take them all out on our own or if we need to find allies.”
Telemachus’ jaw dropped to the floor at this casual confidence. “Dad, I mean – I’ve always heard you were some kind of incredible warrior, but how on earth are two men supposed to fight a horde? There’s not just ten or twenty of them, but dozens! Let me think; there are 52 strong young men from Dulichion along with six of their servants; there’s 24 from Same and 20 Achaean nobles from Zacynthus; there’s even 12 of the strongest lords from Ithaca itself in their number; they’ve also got Medon the herald, a skilled bard, and two henchmen to wield knives when it’s required. That’s a hell of a lot of people for the two of us to take on alone! I just got you back dad. I don’t want us both to get our heads hacked off in a hopeless bid for revenge. Surely you know people you can call on, great warriors to stand beside us and lend us the strength of their arms.”
“I can do better than that, Telemachus. Will having Athena and Zeus at our back be reinforcements enough for you? Or should I rack my brains to come up with some mere mortals?” Telemachus cocked his head, unsure if his dad was a genius or a madman. “I mean, yeah those would be some fanfuckingtastic allies if we could rouse them from their seats high in the clouds around Mount Olympus, where they lord over all gods and men.”
Odysseus clapped his son, who was very reasonably skeptical of counting entirely on divine intervention, on the back. “Don’t worry, the gods like us. Those two won’t hold back for long once the din of battle rises and they see us standing proud against the sea of suitors infesting my halls.” He looked up at the door and realized that it was starting to get light outside. Dawn was near. “It’s almost sunrise, Telemachus. Head home and mix in with that odious crowd. The swineherd will be back later and he can lead me into the city once more in my disguise as a broken, filthy, old beggar. No one will suspect my identity. From everything you’ve said, I fully expect them to abuse a weak old man wandering helplessly into their midst. Whatever you do, don’t interfere. No matter what they do to me, let it happen. I can handle myself. Even if they drag me out of there by my feet and throw me out the door then pelt me with rocks after, just look on and do nothing. You can ask them nicely to stop and remind them that this is against the laws of the gods, but no more. We both know they won’t listen. Men like that never do, which is fine because the hour of their doom is at hand.
“One more thing, and please listen carefully. This is important. Athena is with us. When the Queen of Strategy tells me the time is right, I’ll give you the nod. You go round up all the weapons and armor kept in the hall and stash them somewhere safe and remote – maybe deep inside an upstairs storeroom. If the suitors notice anything, distract them. Tell a story, ask questions, whatever it takes. Maybe try telling them that a god warned you to put them away so the suitors wouldn’t accidentally hurt each other with them when they proceeded to get roaring drunk, especially if some kind of quarrel broke out between them. You’d hate to see anyone get hurt and throw a damper on the courting of Penelope.
“Just make sure to leave a pair of swords somewhere for us along with a pair of spears and a pair of oxhide bucklers. When shit goes down, we need to be able to take up arms and shields very, very quickly. Athena and Zeus will give us an assist then, dazzling the suitors, confusing them and dulling their reactions. Most important of all, if you truly are my son, blood of my blood, then you will tell no one that I am back. Not Laertes, not Eumaeus, not even Penelope herself. Once I am in the thick of it, we can judge her intentions, and maybe those of the servants as well, to see if we can trust them. No one but you knows I’m here, and it stays that way.”
Telemachus nodded in understanding. “Of course, father. I’ll make you proud, you’ll see. I’m not the scared little boy you left behind. I think your plan is a good one, but I don’t think we have the need or the time to test all of the servants one by one. The suitors will finish devouring everything by the time you’re finished. You probably should go ahead and test the women though, figure out who’s guiltless and who’s disloyal. Later, once the vipers are crushed, you can worry about going farm to farm to clear out the traitors if need be.” This feels more than a little sexist, and I find it a tad bit weird that Telemachus isn’t defending his mother harder here. She raised him single-handedly (well, as single-handedly as a rich queen ever has to) without Odysseus even present and she’s kept the faith for 20 years. Given what happened to Agamemnon, I can sort of understand why Odysseus is worried about Penelope (especially since he wasn’t even a little bit faithful to their marriage during that same period and no one is as worried about lies as a liar) but Telemachus should know better.
Odysseus saw the wisdom in his son’s council and agreed to the change. They sat together and finalized plans as dawn brightened on the horizon and the ship from Pylos, the one that had brought Telemachus with it, pulled into port. The ship put into the deep harbor and was brought up onto the beach. The deckhands dispersed, unloading the gifts the prince had brought back and carrying them to Clytius’ house where they would be safe. They also sent a herald to the palace to carry news to Penelope that Telemachus had returned safely, that he was out in the country at the moment but had sent the ship on ahead without him. He’d be along shortly, so the queen didn’t need to be afraid of what had happened to him. He was safe.
As luck or fate would have it, the herald and the swineherd met each other on the road, both heading to the same place with the same news. The herald burst in first and announced to the entire assembly that Telemachus was returned and then marched back out. The sailors hadn’t given him much in the way of direction, so he considered his job done. Eumaeus on the other hand whispered quietly in the queen’s ear and relayed the entire message that Telemachus had asked him to deliver before heading out as well.
Eumaeus had been right to be discrete but alas, the damage was already done. The suitors had naturally heard the announcement about Telemachus’ return. Given that a contingent of their best had headed out to lay a trap for the young prince, his return was…unexpected. Those remaining in the palace all headed out of the hall and beyond the gates to hold an impromptu council meeting. Eurymachus took the lead (because of course he did). “My fine fellow, this is a disaster! That insolent prick Telemachus somehow managed to not trip over his own dick and drown like we’d hoped. Damn it, he’s supposed to be dead! Someone send a ship to fetch those failures who were supposed to ambush his ass and get them back here post-haste!”
Eurymachus paused dramatically before continuing his monologue, but the suitors were not a respectful bunch and Amphinomus interrupted the speaker. “No need, Eurymachus – they’re already here. See?” He gestured grandly towards the harbor where, sure enough, their black ship was striking sail and shipping oars for landfall. “Looks like they got a message from the gods that he’d slipped past them. Or maybe they saw him and failed to catch him and stop him. Probably the latter.”
The entire group stood en masse and headed down to the water to find out just what the fuck had gone wrong. Gathering the suitors from the ship, they all stampeded over to the island’s assembly arena and kicked everyone else the hell out like they owned the place. Antinous stood and got the jump on what Eurymachus surely intended to be the tearing of a new asshole for their failure. “The gods themselves have intervened and saved this fucking kid from our long knives. Seriously, we holed up in a great spot where we could watch all of the traffic on the main sea lanes, the only logical way for that asshole to sail back from Pylos without going way out of his way for no reason! We kept men stationed atop the bluffs by day to watch for his return. At night, we’d cruise the ocean to make sure he didn’t slip past under the cover of darkness. We slept in shifts so that the ocean was always being watched, always! Some spirit must have whisked him past our watchful eyes, because that’s the only way he got past us without being seen. No matter; we’ll just plot his death here instead.
“We can’t let him slip through our fingers again, gods or no gods. I’m really starting to think that we won’t pull off our little coup with him still alive and kicking. It seems he’s a schemer just like his dear departed daddy. He’s got some skill unfortunately and worse, the Ithacan people are starting to take his side instead of ours. We need to act before he can raise them against us. He’s proven to be a stubborn ass, and if we try to shoulder him aside, he’ll jump up and rage about how we’re violating his home and how we tried for his life and missed. It won’t go well for us, I promise you. If the people hear that we attempted foul play, worse tried and failed, they’ll never forgive us. Hell, they might even try to run us off our lands, exile us to foreign shores. We no longer have any choice but to strike first and end that bastard’s life. Find a spot clear of the town, somewhere in the fields or the empty roads, and leave him to rot. Once he’s dead, we can finally seize his estates and carve them up between us. Share and share alike, right? All for one and one for all? I mean, I guess his mother can keep the palace to give to whichever one of us actually maries her, but I think we all deserve a proper reward for ridding the world of that annoying little brat.
“That’s my plan, the only plan I think will work at this juncture. If you aren’t on board with slitting his throat and watching his lifeblood cool, if you want him to keep on breathing until he takes full command of his inheritance, then get the fuck out of here. You don’t deserve to sponge off this estate anymore, living the life of Riley. Once he’s gone, we can all shower his mother with gifts from our own estates to try and win her hand once and for all. She can marry the one she favors since she won’t have a son to delay for anymore and the rest of us can go back home. Deal?”
A tense silence fell over the assembled suitors as they considered Antinous’ words, broken at last by Amphinomus rising to speak. He was chief of the men from Dulichion and grandson of King Aretias. At the moment, he seemed to be leading the pack for Penelope’s hand with his honeyed words and surprisingly good sense (at least compared to the rest of the young asshats). “Friends, comrades, you all know that I have no real desire to kill poor Telemachus. It’s a terrible crime to shed the blood of kings as you all well know. I counsel patience. Wait and see what the gods will. If Zeus decrees that the prince must die, then I’ll plunge the dagger into his throat myself; but if the gods oppose this dark deed, it would be folly to go forward with this mad plan.”
Most of the suitors were greedy, lazy playboys who just wanted to drink and dance their days away, and actually killing a prince was more than they could stomach. I mean, if someone else did it, they wouldn’t weep, but they weren’t going to do the actual vicious work of it. They were easily convinced by Amphinomus’ advice to do nothing at all and so, thus agreed, they all rose and went back to the palace.
The usually discreet Penelope was waiting for them when they returned, a look of absolute fury on her normally reserved face. The herald Medon had told her all about their vile scheming to murder her son and now that he was home safe, she wasn’t about to let this bullshit stand in her house. Flanked by her ladies in waiting and armored in her gown and veil, she confronted them, singling out Antinous as their leader. “Antinous, you scheming, bloodthirsty piece of shit! You’re supposed to be the best of Ithaca, wise, eloquent, noble – you’re nothing of the sort! You sit here, in my house, and plot the murder of my son? Have you no fear of Zeus’ wrath if not common human decency? Your own fucking father came here as a fugitive, on the run after joining a group of Taphian pirates to attack our sworn allies the Thesprotians! It was the father of the man whose death you plot, Odysseus himself, who shielded your father and protected him from their fury! It’s over, Antinous. This stops now. All of it!”
Eurymachus could feel this getting away from them and he stepped up to try and calm the situation. “Wise Penelope, you worry over shadows! Let those fears go, my good woman. There’s no one here, not a single soul, who would ever venture to lift a hand against the noble Telemachus. I swear to you, dear Penelope, that if anyone tries it, his blood will spray around my spear in the next moment! The great Odysseus was like a father to me, feeding me as a child and laughing at my antics. I consider your son almost a brother, dear to my heart! Your son need fear no death, and from us suitors least of all. If the gods decide his number is up…well, obviously I can’t do anything about that.”
Penelope didn’t believe a poison-laced word of it, but she didn’t have much in the way of proof to fling in their face after such an eloquent speech. Defeated, she slunk back up to her apartments and fell to weeping for her absent husband yet again until she finally cried herself miserably to sleep. She knew that they were going to murder her son, but she didn’t have any legal way to stop them. She hated feeling so powerless.
Penelope has no idea of course that her heroic husband is, at this very moment, planning to step up and protect their son himself (though his plan does also put Telemachus at risk in open combat, but that’s just the way Odysseus is). Things are fast coming to a head, but we’re going to leave it on this tense note and head to 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 robotic monster is Talos.
Talos was the gigantic, bronzed defender of the island of Crete (and when I say bronzed here, I’m not referring to lustrous skin over rippling muscles like with the other Greek heroes). In the dialect of Crete, his name meant sun, but in the mainland dialect it meant cut down or hewn, possibly referring to his forged bronze body. According to some sources, Talos was an automaton, a robot, built by the god Hapheastus; others say that he was actually the last surviving bronze man from the warlike races destroyed by Zeus back in Episode 1B. In the genealogy of the ancient epic poet Cinaethon, Talos was actually the Cretan god of the sun, the father of the fire god Hephaestus and son of the god Kres (the incarnation of the island of Crete). This Talso was likely the brother of the moon-goddess Pasiphae, the wife of King Minos who we will meet during the saga of the Minotaur. Either way, he was big, he was strong, and he was nearly invulnerable.
The great Talos first came to Crete at the behest of Zeus, king of the gods, according to the earliest existing version of the story by Hesiod. His formerly-bovine beau Europa from Episode 72M was hiding out on Crete, so Zeus sent him to the island as her protector as a gift before she married Asterion, King of Crete. The other two gifts were Laelaps, her hunting dog, and a javelin that was said to never miss its target. A different version has Talos instead being a gift for King Minos of Crete, son of Europa and Zeus. In this version, he’s not a bronze man but a bronze bull, which fits their whole aesthetic well but makes it hard to throw rocks with any accuracy, so you be the judge. The giant was tasked with circling the island three times every day, driving off pirates and raiders by hurling massive boulders at them. As huge as Talos was, he could pitch rocks big enough to sink a ship far out into the ocean, and those he missed quickly decided it was wiser to seek easier prey elsewhere.
In place of blood, his enormous bronze body was powered by a mysterious green substance called ichor that, according to some descriptions, pumped through a tube running from the back of his head or his neck to one of his heels. Talos is in the same vein as our old friend Pandora from back in Episode 1B. Like Talos, some depictions also have her as an innocent girl being tricked by the gods, but Hesiod’s early description of her is clearly an artificially constructed woman built by Hephaestus and sent to earth by Zeus to punish humanity, a sort of virus. Talos will come back again when we get into the tale of Jason and the Argonauts, so I’ll leave that part of his story (probably the most famous bit) for then.
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, on Vurbl, 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.
Atlanta Comic Con is coming up on August 6-8, and I’ll be there again this year to talk about all things mythology. I’ll put specific dates and times on Facebook since these things always seem to shift around at the last minute, but I’ll be hosting panels on the adaptations of Cinderella, on the life and times of Loki, on Camelot and the Green Knight, and on the use of mythology in the Assassin’s Creed franchise on Saturday and Sunday. Come and check it out!
Next time, Odysseus is going to have to flex his stiff upper lip as he endures abuse from the assholes infesting his home. You’ll see that a beggar can’t get no respect, that the great tactician doesn’t seem to have much of a plan, and that stools make half-decent frisbees. Then, in Gods and Monsters, we’ll catch up with some victims of an earlier Gods and Monsters segment and get their story at last. That’s all for now. Thanks for listening.