A raft of boats

Beware the dangers ahead!

E. explains his painting of Scylla and Charybdis.

M.G. adorns herself with scarves for our Siren song.

The group

After hearing the story of Circe, everyone creates their own pungent potion!

Practice!

April 18 -- from PG:

The group came up with a name for their performance--"The Odyssey Comes to Life."

They then began making posters or in some cases invitations for the performance.  The date and time had not been determined. [May 19?]

The group went outside to try to determine where the stage would be and where the audience would sit.  


They also did some practice using their "acting voices" and learning to keep their bodies turned toward the audience.

Back inside some did some more work on posters while others worked on their costumes.

Under the spell of Circe

April 11 from SM:

"Todayʼs Odyssey class felt like what it must have felt like when some of the crewmen were lost at sea or eaten by monsters or under Circeʼs spell. We were short two and as MG noted, “How funny it is to have the Odyssey in Rʼs house with her not even here!” We also thought it was pretty neat that E was becoming a big brother that very morning.

Miss E. brought out the instruments and everyone jumped right into matching sounds with scenes and so we had our own little Foley Artist session. That morphed into discussion about costume as N. promptly donned scarves and such to go with her sounds, and then the wigs were put on. Having recently visited the New Orleans N. thought that her wig made her look like a ʻFrench Duuudeʼ and so that became quite the theme of the day and was repeated with fervor. As well as other bawdy New Orleans jokes that turned into the typical mad humor of five and six year olds that centers around gastrointestinal events. This was a recurring theme for the day, many giggles to be had.

Finally, after much self control the four girls were able to discuss a bit of costume ideas, practice the Siren Song, negotiate the ʻparade before the playʼ idea, and helped V. pick apart her Scylla and Charybdis scene sheʼs narrating into bullet points to help her find her own words for the retelling. N. started a drawing to help her while she retells her part of the Odyssey.

Everyone worked on their Mosaics again, MG on her 3rd being the fastest layer of tiles Iʼve seen yet! Miss E. put the grout on MGʼs and wiped it off while we all ooohhed and ahhhed over the finished piece being revealed.
Lastly, C. decided she will create simple, yet unique sets to go with everyone elseʼs retelling of scenes, and so began her interviews of what each imagines their scenes to look like.
Everyone agreed theyʼre SO EXCITED to figure out costumes!!!"

Assembling the Mosaic

From EPL, April 4 account:

"Last week Miss E helped the children decide which books of the story each would narrate for the performance. The Cyclops story will be acted out, but each child will tell a subsequent scene in their own words. E. wanted to talk about Hyperion's cattle because he is a "meatatarian" and therefore has sympathy for the hungry sailors who couldn't resist fresh steak.

Then, everyone tromped downstairs to run through their lines for the cyclops scene. C. narrated, while V. portrayed the fearsome cyclops. N. had clearly been well-rehersed and played a sailor with aplomb. They also decided they would like to have a museum to showcase their visual work at the final performance, though everyone wanted to be reassured that they would get all their art back.

After the run through, which Elizabeth noted took 10 minutes, everyone worked on a mosaic, gluing small glass and ceramic tiles to hardwood boards. We looked at some ancient mosaics too, and marveled at their detail. Some of the children's mosaics morphed into three dimensions, while some were abandoned to drawing or to gluing tiles on smaller picture frames. But all were coming along well by the end of class, and were to be worked on the next week if unfinished, and grouted the next week if completed.

Children left with various versions of the text. They would reread the portion of the story they'd be responsible for presenting, and were asked to practice a few times over the coming week."

"pray that the road is long, full of adventure, full of knowledge."

From Ms. E.:

This week, we read the last book of The Odyssey, in which Odysseus is reunited with Penelope after revealing his identity in an archery contest and a notably "bloody" revenge scene. After a few questions about what it meant to "behead a suitor" and some "eww" responses, all agreed that the ending was "good" because Ithaca returned to peace and Odysseus was happy. 

 The children then tested out their own archery skills by trying to shoot through a hoop with a bow and arrow on the front lawn. As Penelope (i.e., MG) watched, R, E, & N took turns with the bow, and each agreed that Odysseus was an impressive hero because shooting an arrow straight is harder than it looks!

After, we went inside and began the first read-through of the Cyclops scene. With some coaching, everyone began to get comfortable using loud voices, interacting with one another as characters, and using body language to enhance the lines. The group then finished drafting the remainder of the scene's script and retired for snack. We all discussed ideas for additional ways to present the material in the final performance such as representing some scenes with music, art, and puppetry. Mr. S. shared some from his trip to Chicago and got everyone excited about perhaps creating a Trojan horse of our own.

The second half of the morning was spent discussing and creating props and costumes for the Cyclops scene. Everyone made sheep masks and boulders for the cave. By noon, there was a lot of excitement about creating the armor for the scene and imagining how to make the cyclops look "hideous." Miss E. also shared a bit about the mosaic project planned for next week. Lastly, R showed with everyone how she makes "pocket-sized bows/arrows" with rubber bands and parts of tinker toys. Each archer seemed intent on refining his/her skills before next week!

[A lovely poem by Cavafy on the return to Ithaca.]

Man of constant sorrow

BBC Radio 4 program: "The Road Home: Remaking Homer's Odyssey"

"Tom Holland explores the continuing appeal of Homer's Odyssey. From the Coen Brothers' film 'O Brother Where Art Thou?' to feminist rewritings of the story of Penelope's long-suffering wait for her husband to return we remain as fascinated as ever by one of the poetic cornerstones of western life. Why should that be? Homer has been quarried and mined and remade ever since the Iliad and the Odyssey were first sung. But today poets, dramatists, songwriters, novelists and filmmakers are working on the poems like never before it seems. Dante, Tennyson and James Joyce all had goes at rewriting the story of Odysseus (also called Ulysses) and his struggle to get home after the Trojan War, but what do today's reworkers have to say about the story and its meaning to us? Simon Armitage, Michael Longley, Zachary Mason, Alice Oswald, Edith Hall, and the late Peter Reading and Christopher Logue join the words of Margaret Atwood and the music of Tim Buckley and the Soggy Bottom Boys to help us all find our way home. Producer: Tim Dee."

They include a version of Buckley's "Song to the Siren" sung hauntingly by This Mortal Coil:

On the floating, shapeless oceans
I did all my best to smile
til your singing eyes and fingers
drew me loving into your eyes.

And you sang "Sail to me, sail to me;
Let me enfold you."

Here I am, here I am waiting to hold you.
Did I dream you dreamed about me?
Were you here when I was full sail?

Now my foolish boat is leaning, broken love lost on your rocks.
For you sang, "Touch me not, touch me not, come back tomorrow."
Oh my heart, oh my heart shies from the sorrow.
I'm as puzzled as a newborn child.
I'm as riddled as the tide.
Should I stand amid the breakers?
Or shall I lie with death my bride?

Hear me sing: "Swim to me, swim to me, let me enfold you."
"Here I am. Here I am, waiting to hold you."

Well suited

Last week, with spring break approaching for the Odyssean crew, we took stock of our episodes thus far, as we anticipate crafting them into an adequate vessel for performance.

Reviewing Odyssey's return to Ithaca

Since last week was also the closing of the "Armed and Dangerous" exhibit at the Brooks Museum, and since the weather was unseasonably splendid, we took a field trip to learn more about Greek armor and weaponry. 

Human chain crossing a street without a crosswalk

We got to see a Greek helmet and sword, a vase decorated with Heracles (whom we could identify because he was wearing a lionskin), and (in the permanent collection) Luca Giordano's rather placid The Slaying of the Medusa. A favorite part of the exhibit was the interactive corner, where everyone tried on helmets as well as made decorative impressions with a stylus on strips of metal. 

Stylin'

V & MG

E

N

Some Homeric tidbits in the news over the break: Greek characters (via Shakespeare) were used for market commentary;  a quixotic millionaire (redundant?) and author of Odysseus Unbound (available in our crew's library!) is convinced that he has discovered the authentic Ithaca; meanwhile, scholars continue to debate who (singular or plural) even composed the Homeric epics. And in Chicago, a new National Hellenic Museum opened with an exhibit on "Gods, Myths and Mortals": "climb into a 12 foot tall Trojan Horse, journey through rocky caves, over open seas, into a Cyclops Cave and then a karaoke cave to sing like a Siren." Another field trip?

A Recipe for Stinky Cheese

Report from Ondine:

On Feb 29, the kids voted to stay outside that morning, so they huddled together on a blanket that we spread on the porch, and Elizabeth recapped the previous week's story, which gave her the opportunity to reuse Scott's joke:  
"Who helped Odysseus by giving him a magic scarf?"
"Ino!"
"Great!  What her name was?"
"Ino!"
"I know you know!  What's her name?"
Lots and lots of giggles and feigned exasperation.  Because truly nothing is funnier to a kid than a confused grown-up.

Elizabeth then began the story of Odysseus' return, while the kids listened, asked questions and acted out what they heard in big and small ways. 

Athena disperses the fog.  Twelve tiny arms swipe at the air.

Odysseus, realizing where he is, falls to his knees and kisses the ground.  They immediately drop their faces to the blanket! 

Athena turns Odysseus into an old beggar.  Imagined magic wands descend on neighboring heads, and suddenly, the kids are old people.  They wrinkle their brows, tightened eyes and lips, and hunch shoulders.

Odysseus goes to the hut of the swineherd.  N asks, "What's a swine?"  MG and R answer in unison, "Pigs."

Athena instructs Telemechus to return home.  "Wait," the kids protest. "Where had Telemechus been?!"(In case you were wondering whether they have been paying attention and following all this from week to week, they have.  In the interest of time, Elizabeth had glossed over that part of the story; the kids noticed.  So she quickly brought them up to speed on Telemechus' activities and got back to the story at hand.)

Athena reveals Odysseus, and father and son are reunited.  The kids fall over hugging each other!
(E didn't care for the enthusiastic hugging and said very politely and sensitively to R as she went in for the big embrace, "Oh, no thank you.  I don't like that very much." And then he said, "Don't stab me in the eye."  Elizabeth said, "Oh, R was just going to hug you," to which he explained, "No, I was talking to my this eye.  My this eye was telling my other eye not to stab it."  With that resolved, all eyes playing nice once again, we were back to the story.)

Odysseus and Telemechus make a plan to rid the palace of the suitors.  And we will find out this week whether or not it will work!

We went inside. ("Shhhh!  Don't wake the cyclops!"  In this way, the kids know that A is napping and so tiptoe quietly down to the basement.) 

First the kids tested the raft.  "It floats!"  Success!

Then the kids made lists of props that might be needed for The Trojan Horse.  "But we can't do that story!  We don't have a horse!"  MG pipes up.  "I know!  We could use scenery!"

The kids have some free time to work on an art project of their choosing that relates in some way to any of the stories.  V made cyclops eyes for everyone.  C made a beautiful model of Clypsos' island on a tiny paper plate using markers and tissue paper.  MG drew at the easel, and R helped her mom with a paper trojan horse.  The coffee filters were big sources of inspiration.  N made a drawing of Odysseus' raft on one and a helmet for A on another (which he wore.  He's a good sport.)  And E used one to make some stinky cheese for the cyclops. 

Here is E's recipe for stinky cheese:
1. Take a coffee filter. 
2. Paint on it. 
3. Draw on the wet paint with markers. 
4. Dip it in water and squish it into a ball. 
5. Wrap it in string. 
6. Dap it with glue. 
7. Go back for more string. 
8. Hang it in the bathroom for a week.  Because it needs to rot.  And mold! 

Viola!  E's stinky cheese. 

Whatever you do, don't

So many myths and fables have at their core some clearly stated prohibition, an injunction that is almost immediately disregarded:

• God: Whatever you do, Adam and Eve, don't eat the fruit of this tree.
• Rama: Whatever you do, Sita, don't leave the hut.
• Mother: Whatever you do, Little Red Riding Hood, don't stray from the path(/talk to strangers).

The predictable, deeply human fall has become a comic refrain in our readings, as R. sympathetically smirks at the characters who proceed to do what they are explicitly told not to do. She's suggested two alternatives: either the rule-giver should explain in great detail the consequences of rule-breaking, or better yet deploy some reverse psychology and tell her charges to do the opposite of what they are supposed to do, so they'll end up doing the right thing.

Cultural anthropologists have a lot to say about this, mainly pointing out that prohibition itself initiates desire. Wallace Stevens put it more lyrically: "not to have is the beginning of desire." We are driven by want, and made all the more aware of our lack when we are told we can't have something.

We have lapsed in our regular accounts of the Odyssey Odyssey, but in the last three sessions we've repeatedly encountered a series of "whatever you do, don'ts"—

* "Whatever you do, tired voyagers, don't open the bag of wind" (E. had the crew blow up and decorate balloons)

* "Whatever you do, Pandora, don't open that box" [technically, a vase -- we owe that "box" to Erasmus] (E. brought some lovely patterns for cardboard boxes with details from William Morris)

* "Whatever you do, men, don't drink Circe's potion" (ingredients for which were discovered in our own front yard)

* "Whatever you do, famished sailors, don't eat the cattle of the sun gold Helios"

Odysseus, that self-controlled "prototype of the bourgeois individual," manages to withhold himself from the Siren call of desire, or give in to it only temporarily (if you can call cavorting for seven years with Calypso temporary!) before returning to his destination.








Last week the crew crafted many prototypes of rafts in preparation for the final (and now solitary, given that everyone else has been knocked off for succumbing to prohibitions) journey to Ithaca. E. first had them design  different drafts on paper, and reminded them that they could revise their plans based on elements they found appealing in their peers' work. Then, for a snack they built vessels made of celery and toothpicks. All of this was in preparation for the final weaving of sticks together for a sturdy platform.









Psychologists have been confirming something that American parents of our generation seem to have forgotten: self-control is far more important for a child's developing autonomy than vacuous praise ("Good job!"). The stories that have been handed down to us recognize that we keep falling for the same stuff, over and over, and keep reminding us: "Whatever you do, don't!" We are only human, we clearly need to keep being reminded.