We sailed to the edge of the Ocean, which circles the earth, to the land of the Cimmérians. There we landed. We took the two sheep ashore, and we made our way alongside the Ocean, until we came to the place that Circē had told us about. I dug a pit a foot or so square. Around it I poured a libation to all the dead, with a mixture of milk and honey, and then with wine, and finally with clear water, and I sprinkled white barley meal over it, and with earnest prayers to the shadowy dead, I vowed that as soon as I came home to Ithaca I would slaughter for them my best yearling cow, and that I would heap the pyre with rich gifts and for Tirésias I would offer an all - black ram, the handsomest one in my flocks. And when I had finished my prayers and invocations to the countless dead, I took the two sheep and cut their throats and let the dark blood drain into the pit. Immediately the ghosts came swarming around me up out of Érebus — brides and unmarried youths, old men worn out by suffering, tender young girls with grief still fresh in their hearts, and a host of spirits whose flesh had been mangled by bronze - tipped spears, men killed in the crush of battle, still wearing their bloodstained armor.

Meanwhile I crouched there, holding my drawn sword over the pool of blood, and I wouldn’t allow the ghosts to approach until I had questioned Tirésias. The first to come was the ghost of my comrade Elpénor, who hadn’t been given a burial under the earth ; we had left his body behind, unmourned and unburied, in the palace of Circē, since other tasks were more urgent. I pitied him and wept when I saw him and said, ‘ Elpénor, how did you come to this land of darkness? You got here more quickly on foot than I did by ship. ’ He answered me with a groan : ‘ Some malignant power brought me to my undoing, and too much wine. I had gone to sleep on the roof, forgetting I needed the ladder to come back down, so I fell off head - first and broke my neck, and my soul descended to Hades. Now I beseech you, by all those whom you hold dear, by your wife, whom you love, and your father, who brought you up, and Telemachus, the only hope of your family —Don’t sail away and abandon me there and leave me unmourned, unburied, But burn me, along with whatever armor I have, and heap up a mound for me on the echoing seashore in memory of an unfortunate man, so that people for generations to come may know of my story. When he finished speaking, I answered him with these words : ‘ My poor friend, I will make sure that this is accomplished. ’

The next to come up to me was the ghost of my mother, who had still been alive when I left my country for Troy. I wept when I saw her. I pitied her in my heart. Yet in spite of the grief I felt, I wouldn’t allow her to approach until I had questioned Tirésias. And then the ghost of the Theban prophet came up, with a golden staff in his hand. He knew me and said, ‘ Unfortunate man, why have you left the sunlight to come here and visit the dead in this joyless place? Step back from the trench now. Put away your keen sword so I can drink from the blood and prophesy truly. ’ I drew back after I heard this, and sheathed my sword, and when he had finished drinking, he stood up and said, ‘ You seek a happy return, Odysseus, but one god will make it bitter for you : Poseidon, who is furious that you blinded his son. And yet, despite many hardships, you and your men may still reach home if you can hold back your own desires and your men’s as well when you land at the isle of Thrinácia and find there in its lush pastures the cattle and sheep of Hélios, the all - seeing, all - hearing sun god. If you leave them unharmed and concentrate on your return, you may all reach Ithaca yet, despite many hardships. But if you hurt them, then I predict the destruction of your ship and your comrades, and even if you yourself should escape, it will be a long time before you reach home.

When he finished speaking, I answered him with these words : ‘ Ah well, Tirésias, this is the fate that the gods must have spun out for me. Tell me about one thing, though : I can see over there the ghost of my dead mother, who is sitting, speechless, next to the blood and can’t even manage to look her own son in the face or utter a word to me. What can I do, my lord, to make her see me and recognize who I am? ’ Without hesitation he said, ‘ The answer is easy. Whichever ghosts you allow to drink from the blood will speak to you and will tell you the truth, but whichever ones you refuse will withdraw to the place they came from. ’ And after these words, having ended his prophecies, Tirésias left and returned to the realm of Hades. But I remained there, steadfast, until my mother came up and drank the dark blood. Immediately she recognized me and cried out in sorrow and said, ‘ My dear child, how did you come to this land of darkness while still alive? It is hard for the living to get here. Are you still on your way from Troy with your ships and comrades? Haven’t you yet gone home to Ithaca, after such a long time, or seen your wife in your palace? ’ And I answered, ‘ Mother, necessity brought me to Hades to consult the Theban prophet Tirésias. I haven’t yet come near Achaea, nor have I set foot on my own land, but have constantly wandered, from one misery to another, since the first day when I sailed with King Agamemnon to Ilion to fight the Trojans. But tell me : What happened to you? How did you die? Was it some lingering illness, or did Ártemis kill you with her swift, painless arrows? And do you have news of my father, my son, my kingdom, and what of my dear wife?

My mother answered at once:

‘ Your wife still lives in your house. Her heart is still faithful, and her nights and days drag on in continual weeping. No man has taken your kingdom ; Telemachus still holds your lands unchallenged and gives large banquets as befits his rank, but your father lives out on his farm and never goes near the city.There he lies nursing his sorrow, more feeble each year, still mourning over your death. Of that same inconsolable sorrow I died.’

When she finished speaking, I took a step forward to touch my mother’s spirit. Three times I tried to embrace her ; three times she slipped through my arms like a shadow, a dream. And as I kept trying, and kept embracing the air, the pain in my heart grew more intense. And I said, ‘ Mother, why won’t you stay here for me? If only we could hold each other, even for a brief moment,

‘ Ah, my poor child, ill - fated above all mortals, the sinews don’t hold the flesh and the bones together. But hurry back to the light, and remember all this, and once you reach Ithaca, tell it to your dear wife. ’

Next the ghost of Agamemnon came up, the son of Atreus, as if he were in great anguish, and around him were gathered the ghosts of the other men who were slaughtered along with him in Ægísthus’s palace. As soon as he saw me, he recognized me and burst into loud sobs, and he reached out his arms to embrace me. But he couldn’t do it, since all the vigor was gone from those limbs that had once been so masterful and so strong. I pitied him, and I wept when I saw him and said, ‘ Most glorious son of Atreus, king of men, what happened to you? How did you die? Did Poseidon drown you on your way home with your fleet by stirring the treacherous sea winds into a deadly storm? Or did enemies kill you as you were raiding their cattle?’

He answered, ‘ Son of Laértes, resourceful Odysseus, it wasn’t Poseidon who killed me, nor was I cut down by enemies in a cattle raid. It was Ægísthus who plotted my death and killed me, with my accursèd wife’s help, after inviting me to his palace. In your time you have witnessed the killing of many men in the deafening crush of war or in single combat, but you never saw anyone die with the kind of horror you would have felt as you saw us sprawled out around the wine bowl and tables, the whole floor awash with our blood. But most pitiable of all were the screams of Cassándra, Priam’s daughter. My wife, Clytemnéstra, murdered her over my body.There is no crime so repulsive as murdering her own husband. I had no suspicions about her ; I even thought my arrival would be a joy to my children and household.’

Then I said, ‘ Horrible ! From the beginning, Zeus has hated the family of Atreus and harmed them!’

He said, ‘Not that your wife is ever likely to kill you. She is far too loyal and wise to do something like that, the lady Penelope. She was just a young bride, still nursing an infant, when we set out for Troy, and now he must be a young man, taking his place among the most prominent leaders. How lucky he is ! His father and he will embrace each other someday, which is the way it should be. That wife of mine didn’t even allow me the joy of greeting my son — she killed me before I could see him. Do you and your comrades have any news of Oréstes?’

I said, ‘I don’t know if your son is alive or dead. Thus we two stood there, both of us sick at heart, grieving together, as hot tears streamed down our faces.’

And next the ghost of Lord Achilles came up, and also I saw the spirits of Patróclus and of Antílochus and of Ajax, who in beauty and strength was the best of all the Achaeans And when Achilles saw me, he recognized me and mournfully said:

‘Noble Odysseus, how did you dare to make your way down to Hades, where the dead live on as phantoms? ’

I answered, ‘I came here to speak with Tirésias in the hope of hearing what I must do to reach Ithaca. But you, Achilles — no man on earth has ever been more blessed than you are, nor ever will be. Before, when you were alive, we honored you equally with the immortal gods, and down here, you are a great prince among the dead. Therefore you shouldn’t be sad about dying, Achilles. ’

And he said, ‘ Don’t try to smooth - talk me into accepting death, Odysseus.

But give me news of my son. And tell me about my father, Peleus.’

‘I have heard nothing about your father, but of your son, Neoptólemus, I will tell you: I brought him myself from Scyros to join the Achaean army. He killed many Trojans in battle, too many of them to name. He was never hit by a spear throw or stabbed by a sword, as often happens to even the best men in war. When I had finished, the ghost of Achilles departed with long strides across the meadows of asphodel, exulting in what I had said about his son’s glory.

And then the ghosts of the other dead crowded around me in sorrow, all of them asking for news of their loved ones. Ajax alone, Télamon’s son, stood apart. He was still embittered that I had defeated him in our competition, when I was awarded the armor of Achilles, whose mother had offered it as a prize. I wish I had never won. The prize wasn’t worth it, since it brought such a noble warrior down to his grave, a great man who in his stature and feats of war surpassed all other Argives except for Achilles. So I called out to him and tried to assuage his anger: ‘ Son of Télamon, Ajax, haven’t you even now, in death, forgotten your rage against me because of that damned armor? No one but Zeus is to blame! Come closer, my lord, and listen to what I say. Master yourself. Rein in your obstinate pride.

These were my words. But he gave no answer, and strode off into the darkness, back toward the other ghosts. And I remained there, steadfast, to see if the great heroes might come, the ones who died long ago. But before that could happen, the multitudes of the dead came surging up all around me, from every direction, with unearthly shrieks that made me turn pale with terror. I hurried off to my ship, and I told my comrades to come aboard, right away, and loose the stern - cables. They quickly climbed up and took their seats by the oars, and the current carried us down the vast stream of Ocean. We rowed at first, but before long we had a fine breeze. ”

This was a physicalized version created by the US Spring Intensive students.