Ixion

The fates of those condemned to punishment are often revealing windows into the psyche of another culture. Through a dramatic example, they show us at once what qualities are deplored and which are admired. It bears little wonder therefore, why criminals gain such infamy in the popular mindset. Particularly where sympathy may stain a reputation of atrocity. The men and women condemned to the depths of Tartarus in Roman and Greek lore are no different, and their stories no less remembered for it (for a story of another such man, please click here). One such man was Ixion, whose tale merges ignominy and tragedy in equal measure.

The Anguish of Ixion
Painting by Jules-Élie Delaunay.

Ixion, like the hero Bellerophon (for more about him, please click here), was of a cursed line. His father, whose name was Phlegyas, was also tormented in the Underworld, as was his sister, Coronis. One day the god Apollo, enamoured of Coronis, had ordered a white raven to guard her when his divine presence was required elsewhere. She was pregnant with the Sun god's own son, and was not to be touched by another. With Apollo's absence however, Coronis soon became infatuated with a local Lapith chieftain, a man named Ischys. The day came when Apollo returned, and the god asked the white raven if Coronis had been kept safe in his absence. The bird, fearful of its master, told him of the affair it had witnessed. Filled with fury that the raven had not pecked out the eyes of Ischys for daring to even look upon Coronis, Apollo unleashed a curse upon the bird so powerful the feathers on its body were badly scorched. Ever since this time, the plumage borne by all ravens has been black, a living reminder of their progenitor's fate. Appalled, the god of the sun pierced her with an arrow, slaying her instantly. The soul of the girl was borne to Tartarus, where it was ever after punished, yet upon her funeral pyre, her unborn son was saved by Apollo, overcome as he was by remorse. Her son was named Asclepius, and would become the god of medicine and healing, patron god of doctors. Phlegyas however, was driven mad with anger at the killing of his daughter. In retaliation, Phlegyas torched the sacred temple of Apollo at Delphi itself, committing the ultimate act of blasphemy, such that his name came to mean 'the fiery one' in the Greek tongue. Inevitably, Apollo struck the man down.

Mount Olympus
Photograph taken by Aline Zienowicz.

Such was the legacy left to Ixion, who had seen both his own father and sister slain by a god. Thirsting for vengeance, Ixion would ever after pit himself against Olympus, even the father of gods himself. One day, Ixion, like his sister, fell foul of dangerous passion. Wishing to be wed to the maiden Dia, daughter of Deioneus, but unable to afford the steep bride price (the opposite of the dowry) required, Ixion despaired. Driven to desperation, Ixion turned to deceit. Telling Deioneus that he would present a valuable gift to him in return for Dia, the two were wed, and soon ran away. In revenge, Deioneus seized Ixion's horses as compensation for the crime. Angered in turn, Ixion tried his hand at deception once more. Inviting Deioneus to a great feast, ostensibly to settle matters rationally, Ixion prepared his trap. Deioneus arrived and moved to embrace his son-in-law, but reconciliation was far from the mind of Ixion. Approaching slowly, Ixion suddenly and violently pushed Deioneus into the fire, and so 'he was the hero who, not without guile, was the first to stain mortal men with kindred blood'. The relationship between guest and host was a holy one in ancient times.  A host was supposed to treat a guest with charity, respect and kindness, and a guest should honour his host suitably. It was a bond so sacred that it's patron was the Thunderer himself. Yet Ixion had not only disrespected his guest, he had murdered him, polluting himself with the most savage of crimes.

Ixion is bound to the Wheel of Fire
Engraving by Bernard Picart.

Slowly falling into insanity, Ixion wandered the plains, spurned by all men, so horrified were they at his crime. Seeing the outlaw living so wretchedly, and recalling the tragedy of Ixion's family, Zeus offered the hand of redemption to this polluted man. The king of the gods even brought him to the banqueting table on Olympus itself, inviting Ixion to dine with the gods. However, at his moment of forgiveness, Ixion did not forget, nor forgive. Just as the gods had treated his father and sister so lamentably, Ixion resolved to punish even Zeus himself. Just as Apollo had made sport of Coronis, now Ixion turned his attention upon Hera, queen of the gods and the wife of Zeus. Plotting in his mind, Ixion resolved to abduct the goddess, once again violating the bond of guest to host, this time violating it in the name of its very patron. Zeus however, was omniscient. Seeing the dark thoughts brewing in his mind, Zeus could not believe that Ixion would dare do such a thing, but prepared a test nonetheless. Crafting an image of his wife from the clouds, Zeus created the cloud woman, Nephele, who resembled Hera perfectly. To Zeus' dismay, Ixion seized Nephele and stole away to his quarters on Olympus. Ixion even begot a son by Nephele, named Centaurus, a man so deranged he would one day take one of the mares which lived on Mount Pelion as his wife, and thus sire the race of Centaurs, creatures who would ever after cause great strife in the kingdoms of men.

The Thunder god was stricken with fury. Not content with violating the bonds between men, Ixion had violated the bonds between the gods themselves. Zeus hurled a thunderbolt at Ixion, blasting him from the summit of Mount Olympus. Furthermore, Zeus ordered Hermes to bind Ixion to a wheel made of fire, a wheel decreed to spin across through the skies for eternity, as Ixion looked on alone at the world he had polluted, victim of the terrible agony of his fiery bonds...

United Kingdom

The Odes of Pindar
The Complete Odes (Oxford World's Classics)
(The story of Ixion and his punishment in poetry) 

The Library of Greek Mythology
The Library of Greek Mythology (Oxford World's Classics)
(A less poetic account, but includes a wealth of information from across Greek Mythology)

United States

The Odes of Pindar
The Complete Odes (Oxford World's Classics)
(The story of Ixion and his punishment in poetry) 

The Library of Greek Mythology
The Library of Greek Mythology (Oxford World's Classics)
(A less poetic account, but includes a wealth of information from across Greek Mythology)

The Crusade Grows

Today we return to the grand story of the First Crusade, one of the most grandiose operations in history, unrivalled in scope in all that had gone before it. On the 27th of November 1095, a day which shook the world, the charismatic Pope Urban II had cried out to the powers of Christendom to aid their beleaguered fellow Christians in the East against the rising power of Islam (for the story behind Urban's legendary speech, please click here). The gathered crowd of clergymen, knights and nobles were both stunned and moved. Little did the Pope realise that in that moment he had created an idea, an idea that would mobilise the nations of Europe like never before.

The Crusaders rally to the Crusade
Engraving by Alphonse-Marie-Adolphe de Neuville.

When the Supreme Pontiff had finished speaking, and tears were in the eyes of all men present, one among that crowd rushed forward. His name was Adhemar, and he was also the Bishop of Puy-en-Velay in France. Kneeling before the Pope, he vowed to see God's will be done. Urban II bent down and sewed a cross onto the robes of the Bishop. Adhemar of Puy was the first man to take the cross, and the first crusader. Urban II called to the crowd once more, declaring this man to be his personal representative, as Papal legate, on the Crusade, imploring more to follow his example. Many more followed in Adhemar's wake. Many more indeed. News of the Pope's call spread quickly across the Kingdoms of Europe. Bishops and legates soon appeared in towns and cities across the land, carrying the Pope's message to the people, both lord and peasant alike. "Undertake this journey for the remission of your sins, with the assurance of the imperishable glory of the Kingdom of Heaven!" was a potent message, particularly to the pious, yet beaten down serfs of the feudal medieval world. Tens of thousands answered the Pope's call across Europe,  from all walks of life. Men, women, monks, knights, lords, Princes, Counts, hermits, peasants - all took the cross.

Godfrey of Bouillon leads the First Crusade
Image taken from a 13th Century Illuminated Manuscript.

Soon the sheer scale of the response took the Pope by surprise. Whilst continuing his journey through France, Urban II even had to urge women, monks and the sick to stay behind, so vast were the numbers. Yet the force he unleashed was too great even for the Church to control. Royalty too, soon began to stir. Due to an unusual set of circumstances, the three most powerful monarchs in Europe were unable to personally take the crusade (however, later crusades, famously the Third Crusade, were under the direct leadership of Kings). King Philip I of France had been excommunicated for polygamy by Pope Urban II himself. The Holy Roman Emperor Henry IV had been excommunicated for scheming against the Church. In England, King William the Conqueror had been dead only eight years and the Norman mastery of England still less than thirty years old. The new King William II's hold on the throne therefore needed a strong hand, so he too was unable to go. The Spanish were locked in battle with the Moors, wrestling for control of the Iberian Peninsula, already engaged in an effort to drive Islam from Europe, an effort known as the Reconquista, and so they too were out of the picture. However, in their wake royalty would still attend. After much deliberation, representing the Kingdom of France would be Hugh of Vermandois, brother to the disgraced King. Representing the Holy Roman Empire would be numerous lords and barons of the German King, most important of whom was Godfrey, Lord of Bouillon, who would became a key leader of the Crusade. Representing the Kingdom of England would be Robert, Duke of the Normans and son of King William the Conqueror and brother to King William II. Accompanying him would be Stephen, Count of Blois, son-in-law to the Conqueror (who would also be father to the future King Stephen of England, last of the Norman Kings). From the Norman lands in Southern Italy came Bohemond, the Prince of Taranto and his nephew Tancred. Each man brought with him a sizeable contingent, though overall credit for the First Crusade was to rest largely with the Normans. As the Kingdoms of Europe prepared themselves for the Crusade, Pope Urban II set a date for its departure, August 15th 1096, on the Feast of the Assumption. However, as always there were fanatics. One contingent decided to leave without delay.




Peter the Hermit guides the people to the Holy City
Image taken from a 13th Century Illuminated Manuscript.


Pope Urban II was not the only charismatic man of the cloth at the time of the Crusade. The story too, tells us of a hermit, by the name of Peter, who was a priest of Amiens. Years before, Peter had embarked upon a pilgrimage to the Holy City, but had fallen into the hands of the Turks, who had tortured him, deep in the dungeons of Anatolia. Seizing on the chance offered by the Pope, the hermit showed the marks of his torture before the eyes of the people, crafting powerful words and speech, urging the liberation of the Holy Lands. Preaching to the people of the Low Countries (the future Netherlands, Belgium and Luxembourg - all vassals of the Holy Roman Empire in 1095), Peter gathered a vast following. Departing early in 1096, leading anything from forty to eighty thousands peasants, knights and nobles, this 'Crusade of the People' marched forth to Constantinople, but not before some stops on the way. Riding a donkey and dressed in simple robes, Peter led the host to the city of Cologne to preach the Crusade. But here this 'rogue crusade' hit its first troubles. Some were impatient and called for an immediate march to Jerusalem. Peter's vision was dashed with a dark new side to the Crusade which manifested early in 1096. An alarming many in Europe saw the Jews as enemies just as much as they did the Saracens. Some questioned why they should travel thousands of miles to fight a foreign foe, when another lay within. This sentiment reached boiling point in the Crusade with a bloody vengeance. Over eight hundred years before the Third Reich, Jews were systematically slaughtered throughout German towns and cities. Thousands were put to the sword, hundreds were locked inside buildings and burned alive. The People's Crusade had run amok. The Holy Roman Emperor, away in Southern Italy, was outraged when the news reached him. The Church universally condemned the anti-Semitism, denouncing all involved.

The People's Crusade in Anatolia
Image taken from a 15th Century
Illuminated Manuscript.

The First Crusade had got off to an appalling start, but things would get worse before they got better. A force loyal to none, the hermit's 'army' continued through Eastern Europe, through Hungary to the borders of the Eastern Roman Empire. The Roman Emperor Alexius Comnenus had a dilemma. If the rogue crusaders attacked his lands he would have to retaliate, yet this would jeopardise the ethos of the Crusade, which was supposed to be aiding him. If they entered Constantinople, who knows what they would do? After pillaging the city of Belgrade, the crusaders entered Roman territory. But Peter's 'army' was little more than a collection of ill-equipped and uneducated vagabonds and thieves than the might of Christendom. Peter accepted the Emperor's offer of an escort through his lands, but his followers were a force of their own. Causing havoc in the city of Nis (in modern Serbia), as many as ten thousand troublemaking crusaders were slain by the Roman garrison, yet still they marched on. Passing through Sofia and reaching Constantinople at last, the Emperor was bemused by what he saw. Hardly any of the crusaders even wore armour, let alone training or organisation. Yet these brigands were to face the might of the Turks? Men who had bested the Roman army itself? Little wonder the Emperor's daughter, Anna, described them as "a host of barbarians 'bursting forth into Asia in a solid mass".  Despair though he did, the Emperor saw a good man at heart in Peter, even if he held little control over his mob. Urging him to await the leaders of the true Crusade, the Emperor begged him to wait. But his followers would have none of it. Reluctantly, the People's Crusade was quickly ferried across the Bosphorus, into the lands of the Turks.

Amongst the rabble were two groups. One, consisting largely of the Germans who had so violently slaughtered the Jews, who urged immediate action, and another more cautious. Impatient, the Germans advanced forth, finding the fortress of Xerigordon unnoccupied. In fact, the country itself seemed empty. Where were the Turks? The fortress did however, have many riches left in it, left for the taking. The Germans charged in and revelled in their luck, short lived though it was. For they had walked straight into the trap laid by Kilij Arslan, Sultan of the Great Seljuk Empire. Quickly sending forth men to surround the fortress, the Turks promptly cut the water supply to the castle. The Germans soon found that gold could not quench their thirst. So they received their justice, as they starved and died of thirst. It is said that some resorted to drinking the blood of their horses, and their own urine, before succumbing in the burning heat. The cautious crusaders had heard nothing from the Germans for some days, until a messenger arrived, telling them that they had in fact taken and looted the city of Nicaea, and plunder was all theirs! Little did the crusaders know that this man was actually a Turkish spy... All order thrown into confusion, the greedy crusaders plowed on to the city, through a narrow gorge. The Sultan once more sprang his trap. Thousands upon thousands of arrows fell upon the crusaders, and thousands fell, unarmoured as they were. Tens of thousands of crusaders were killed or sold into slavery, and barely a few hundred of the great host made it back to Constantinople. One among the survivors however, was an old hermit...

Often passed over in the story of the First Crusade, the People's Crusade is a shocking precursor to the very recent and very real persecutions of the twentieth century. The Crusades had barely begun, and the darkest sides of religious conflict had been illuminated. Though quickly eclipsed by the events of the true First Crusade, the People's Crusade is a story which must be known. It was with a heavily tarnished image that the true crusaders marched to Constantinople in August 1096, a force of Princes, knights and soldiers...

United Kingdom

Eyewitness accounts
The First Crusade: "The Chronicle of Fulcher of Chartres" and Other Source Materials (Middle Ages)
(A very useful collection of eyewitness accounts of the First Crusade - including the People's Crusade)

United States

Eyewitness accounts

The First Crusade: "The Chronicle of Fulcher of Chartres" and Other Source Materials (The Middle Ages Series)
(A very useful collection of eyewitness accounts of the First Crusade - including the People's Crusade)

The Curse of Lycaon

Though thought of primarily as born of modern horror and medieval superstitions, the werewolf is in fact a far older creation. Indeed, in the lore of ancient Greece, it is a part of the creation. Not so long ago I wrote of the story of the Titan Prometheus, and his ceaseless struggle for the betterment of the lot of humanity (to find it quickly, please click here). The Titan, at great personal cost, gave to man ingenuity, craft and fire. But the struggle for the balance between men and gods was far from over. Indeed, it had barely begun. Enraged by the Titan's audacity, Zeus the Thunderer, King of the gods, determined to exact terrible retribution upon mankind for their complicity in accepting the forbidden secrets of the gods.

The Golden Race
Painting by Lucas Cranach.

The race of men crafted by the Titan Prometheus and his brother Epimetheus were not the first people to inhabit the Earth, but the third, known as the Bronze Race. In the earliest times of the cosmos, the first race of men were the Golden Race. Living under the rule of the Titans, with Kronos as their supreme deity and King, men "lived like gods, with carefree heart, remote from toil and misery". This was an age without suffering or sin, an age of bliss, an age of unending bounty upon the Earth. Men did not have to work the land to sustain themselves, as the land itself burst forth with the fruit and crop of the Earth. Mankind harvested the land at his leisure, and their bodies did not grow old. A time before the creation of women, the Golden Race eventually passed into sleep, with only their spirits left walking the Earth. After the younger gods cast the Titans from the Heavens into the depths of Tartarus (for this story, please click here), Zeus created a new line, the Silver Race. These people however, were nothing of their forebears in spirit. Cruel and selfish beyond imagining, there were no limits to their crimes. When their trespasses distracted these men from the honour they owed to the gods, in a fit of rage Zeus hurled them all into the depths of Tartarus, the land of fire and ash within which all evil souls are bound.

Hermes bears Pandora to Epimetheus
Painting by Jean Alaux.

Disheartened by the failure of the Silver Race, Zeus turned to Prometheus and Epimetheus to furnish the Bronze Race (this they did, and their story is told here). With the chaining of Prometheus to endless torture for his spurning of the gods in favour of man, Zeus turned his vengeance upon man. Summoning all the gods of Olympus, Zeus ordered Hephaestus to forge a human shape, and all the goddesses to furnish it with charm and scheming thought. Their creation was the first woman, named Pandora (meaning "All gift", symbolising the hand each divinity had played in her creation), conceived as the truest curse of man. The gods brought Pandora before Epimetheus, offering her as a wife to him. Promtheus warned his brother not accept any gifts from Zeus, but Epimetheus had ever lacked his brother's wits. Welcoming her in and accepting her, Epimetheus and Pandora wed. Epimetheus however, possessed a jar, a spoil taken from the House of the gods by Prometheus, which contained "harsh toil and the grievous sicknesses that are deadly to men". Epimetheus forbade Pandora to open it.The gods knew very well, however, that the very curiosity that Prometheus had fused into the minds of humans would conquer her sense of obedience. One day, her curiosity afire, she unstoppered the jar, and to her horror, all evils rushed forth from the darkness within, unleashed upon the world. Grief, war, malice, hate, plague, death: all these things stormed forth as a pestilence upon the world of men. Panicking, Pandora closed the jar, trapping only a single thing within it which had not yet escaped - Hope.

Lycaon becomes the wolf
Engraving by Hendrick Goltzius.

The Bronze Race ever after was corrupted by the curses of Pandora, and were the first to work bronze, crafting great weapons and engines of war. Reduced to new levels of savagery by their wretched state, Zeus once again grew displeased with man. Assuming the shape of a man, Zeus came down to the Earth and walked among men. Seeing their cruelty all around, he one night came to the palace of Lycaon, the King of Arcadia. Giving a sign that a god had come, some people bowed in reverence, but not all. That night, as the King of the gods slept in his palace, no thoughts of piety were in the mind of Lycaon. Deigning to test the god's immortality, Lycaon considered murdering the god as he slept. His blade however, did not pierce the sleeping god. Lycaon therefore struck down one of the men who showed reverence to Zeus and ordered the servants to prepare him as though a roast boar. The next day when Zeus came to the banquet, the servants placed the meat before the god and Lycaon. Lycaon eagerly devoured his meal, but at once the omniscience of Zeus saw through the deception. The slaying of a guest was one of the gravest of crimes, second only to tasting the flesh of man. In his divine fury, the Thunderer hurled lightning to and fro. The palace crumbled under his rage, and Zeus turned his wrath upon Lycaon's fifty sons, slaying them all with thunderbolts. Lycaon fled in terror to the countryside, but Zeus placed a curse upon him:

             " He tried to speak, but his voice broke into an echoing howl.

               His ravening soul infected his jaws;

               His murderous longings were turned on the cattle;

               Still possessed of bloodlust was he.

               His garments now were as a shaggy coat, and his arms as legs "

                                    - ZEUS PLACES THE CURSE OF LYCANTHROPY UPON LYCAON

His fury mounting, Zeus sent a great deluge upon the Earth. Torrential rains battered the gound and churned the seas, as the oceans rose to swallow the land. All but the mightiest pinnacles were claimed by the stormy seas, and all but two humans perished under the violent ocean. Prometheus, distraught at the fate of his progeny, spurned Zeus one last time. Calling to his son Deucalion and his wife Pyrrha, he warned them of the coming flood, and ordered them to built a craft to keep them afloat. The waters eventually subsided and the craft was set down atop Mount Parnassus, and the two humans emerged. Giving a sacrifice to Zeus, begging his mercy, they got it. Remembering that not all humans had refused him reverence, Zeus was filled with guilt at what he had done. Sending the Titaness Themis to the humans, he bade her restore the human race. Themis instructed Deucalion and Pyrrha to walk along the beach, casting stones over their shoulders without looking back. Wherever a stone cast by Deucalion hit the sand, the stone became a man; wherever Pyrrha hurled a stone, the stone became a woman. This was the Heroic Race, the heirs to the Bronze Race. From this progeny would be born all the greatest heroes of legend, from Perseus to Achilles, and all who would be joined in war before the Gates of Troy...

A powerful episode in the saga of Creation, the story of Pandora and Lycaon marks the birth of the transition from the Age of the gods to the Age of man. From here on in, the line between god and man would be increasingly blurred, until the climactic Trojan War, which saw the human sons of gods march to war with each other, as their parents do in the skies above. What of Lycaon? Perhaps the first werewolf to appear in Western legend, his great legacy was to give his own name to his affliction. For his name became the word in Greek for wolf (lycos), and the term used to describe the condition by which a man becomes a wolf is known today as lycanthropy, from the Greek lycos and anthropos - 'Wolf' and 'Man'. The story is present in various guises in ancient lore, all readily available at a nominal price from Amazon:

United Kingdom

The Story of Lycaon:
Metamorphoses: A New Verse Translation (Penguin Classics)
(A powerful telling crafted through poetry)

The Story of the Ages of Man:
Theogony and Works and Days (Oxford World's Classics)
(Found in Works and Days, a lyrical and easy to read account)

The Story of Pandora and Lycaon:
The Library of Greek Mythology (Oxford World's Classics)
(A Roman epic poem, which recounts the story of Lycaon and his affliction)

United States

The Story of Lycaon:
Metamorphoses (Penguin Classics)
(A powerful telling crafted through poetry)

The Story of the Ages of Man:
Hesiod and Theognis (Penguin Classics): Theogony, Works and Days, and Elegies
(Found in Works and Days, a lyrical and easy to read account)

The Story of Pandora and Lycaon:
The Library of Greek Mythology (Oxford World's Classics)
(A Roman epic poem, which recounts the story of Lycaon and his affliction)

Greed, Wrath and Sloth

Regaining consciousness after his harrowing ordeal, Dante finds himself in a harsh and cruel new place (for the precursor to this, please click here). The eerie, vast abyss of Hell plays tricks on our pilgrim's mind, as the true extent of unholy retribution against the damned slowly becomes clear. "New sufferings and new sinners suffering appeared to me, no matter where I turned my eyes, no matter where I gazed". His vision unblurring and his senses taking hold once more, fresh horrors await the traveller to the impious land.

Cerberus
Engraving by Gustave Doré.

No sooner than Dante spies his guide, Virgil, awaiting nearby than a dreadful alliance of foul things assault his senses. A fetid smell rises in the air, as thundering rain batters the ground. This is no ordinary rain however. Dense hail and filthy water churn with snow upon the ground of Hell, the disgusting slush spreading nausea all around. Just then, a howling roar echoes through the pounding rain, and our pilgrim starts in fear. Looking around in terror, his eyes find its source. The mighty hound of Hell, Cerberus, lies sprawling in the squalor, his three throats bellowing through the downpour. As sickening in sight as his lair is in smell, the gigantic beast is a horror for Dante to look upon. Eyes swollen red, black drool pouring from his three mouths and more a mound of twitching muscle than a true form, the polluted claws slash and mangle the spirits of the damned all about. The demonic dog suddenly is made aware of the presence of Dante and Virgil, snarling and baring his fangs in anger, aware that they do not belong in his realm. Virgil, however, is unperturbed. Kneeling into the grotesque muck, the great poet takes up a handful of the horrid slime and casts them into the greedy jaws:

             " As a howling cur, hungering to get fed,
                     quiets down with the first mouthful of his food,
                     busy with eating, wrestling with that alone,

               So it was with all three filthy heads
                     of the demon Cerberus, used to barking thunder
                     on these dead souls, who wished that they were deaf. "
                                       - VIRGIL WARDS OFF CERBERUS

Though marshy underfoot from the heavy rain, our two poets journey on into the pestilence. As they journey on, Dante becomes aware that he walks upon the cursed shades, beaten down to near nothingness by the torrential rain, struggling in the choking sludge. One among them sits up straight, a man Dante once knew in life, a fellow Florentine. Ciacco is his name and for his sin of gluttony, he was condemned to this place, the Third Circle of Hell, along with many others, all given over to engorgement. The two men speak of Florence and her politics, lamenting at so few good souls who dwelled within. Dante asks of his friends, Jacopo Rusticucci, Arrigo, Mosca and the others, do they enjoy Heaven's sweetness or have they been cast into the darkness? "They lie below with blacker souls" Ciacco mournfully concedes, beckoning Dante further on. Staring awhile at the living man, Ciacco soon falls down into the muddy wastes to join his voracious kin. Onwards the two poets venture, bemoaning the loss of hope all shades of Hell endure, as the path descends, twists and turns, to the Fourth Circle of Hell.

The Spendthrifts and the Misers
Engraving by Gustave Doré.

Upon the doors to the next realm, a swollen figure appears, in the shape of a man, yet muttering nonsensical noises and inane ramblings. This is Plutus, the god of wealth and enemy of man, and this Circle is his realm, to where all who worship riches are condemned. Shouting at the god, Virgil states their purpose as divinely ordained and willed from on high. Plutus shrinks back to the shadows, as the poets enter his domain. Great shouts and bellowings pierce the air, as Dante looks on in shock. Far more spirits are bound here than in any realm above. As though some twisted joust, the souls push enormous weights toward the centre, straining with all their might, sweat pouring from their limbs. When they meet in the centre one asks the other "Why hoard?", while the other "Why waste?", before turning back and beginning again, and again, and again, and again and again. For here are punished the spendthrifts, those who lavished riches in life, and the miserly, those who relentlessly pursued wealth in life yet could not bear to spend any of their own. Dante notices in dismay that there are great many priests and Popes among the damned here, most susceptible to avarice were they. Wondering if he will recognise any among these wretched men, Dante turns to his master. An empty hope, he replies, their lives were undistinguished, as they have become now. So enamoured of their riches are they that they are oblivious to all else around. Disgusted by their insatiable greed, Virgil turns to his follower:

               " You see, my son, the short-lived mockery
                         of all the wealth that is in Fortune's keep,
                         over which the human race is bickering;

                 For all the gold that is or ever was
                         beneath the moon won't buy a moment's rest
                         for even one among those weary souls. "
                                         - VIRGIL DESPAIRS OF THE FUTILITY OF GREED

The Wrathful
Painting by William-Adolphe Bougereau.

Appalled, and struck with revulsion, Virgil bids Dante on, as the stars which rose when they first met even now begin to fall. Crossing the Circle to a further bank, they pass a boiling spring, which spits and overflows with its raging waters into a ditch. Descending further into the bowels of Hell, Dante notices new faces appearing in the torrents. Filthy people, unclad and faces twisted with anger churned the vile water to rapids, as the stream flowed into the great River Styx. Consumed with their wrath, the souls rip and tear each other, their teeth rending flesh, there hands and feet tearing each other limb from limb. "Now see the souls that anger overcame", Virgil enlightens the curious Dante. Noticing strange bubbles breaking at the surface, Dante is confused. That is all you can see off the slothful, Virgil proclaims. Sluggish in life in the sweet air under the Sun, now they lie gurgling at the bottom of that foul muck. The condemned sing the hymn of their own doom into eternity, yet the bursting bubbles at the surface is all that is heard.


Nauseous once again, Dante hurries to rejoin his master, when suddenly, a towering citadel looms ominously ahead...

United Kingdom

Penguin Classics:

Dante: Inferno (Penguin Classics)

(A nice edition which even has the original Italian on the left hand side of the page!)

Oxford World's Classics:

The Divine Comedy (Oxford World's Classics)
(Accessible and well annotated, also includes Purgatorio and Paradisio)

United States

Penguin Classics:
The Divine Comedy: Volume 1: Inferno (Penguin Classics) (Pt. 1)
(A nice edition which even has the original Italian on the left hand side of the page!)

Oxford World's Classics:
The Divine Comedy (Oxford World's Classics)
(Accessible and well annotated, also includes Purgatorio and Paradisio)

The Rage of Achilles

“ Down from the high skies the father of men and gods let loose tremendous thunder,
   from down below Poseidon shook the boundless earth and towering heads of mountains.
   The whole world quaked, the slopes of Ida with all her springs and all her peaks
   and the walls of Troy and Achaea’s ships... ”

                              - ZEUS UNLEASHES WAR UPON THE FIELDS OF TROY

Thetis presents the arms to Achilles
Painting by Giulio Romano.

Newly furnished with a magnificent gift of arms from the forge of Hephaestus himself, with a roar of fury Achilles vowed bloody vengeance upon the sons of Troy, and death to Prince Hector, whose hand had felled his cousin Patroclus (for the immediate lead up to these events, please click here). As the rage pounding through Achilles reached even lofty Olympus, the gods above met in council to lay out the brutal final act of the siege of Troy. But Achilles, one of the greatest warriors ever born, was unleashed upon the field of war, the only place ever his true home.

Seeing the unstoppable power of Achilles gathering its strength, Zeus the Thunderer is worried. The Fates have decreed that Priam’s citadel will indeed fall, but also that Achilles will not be the one to take it, that he must die at Troy. Fearing that Achilles will dare to raze the walls of Troy himself if unopposed, Zeus commands the gods to take their sides and journey down to the field of war, granting aid to whoever their desire drives them. With a flash of lightning, the gods descend from on high, their spirits going one way or another. Hera, Queen of the gods, races to the Achaean ships, followed closely by Poseidon, the god of the sea and Lord of Earthquakes, Athena, the lady of war and wisdom, as well as Hermes the god of messengers and luck and Hephaestus, the god of fire and the forge. But murderous Ares, the god of war himself, swept to the Trojan ranks, flanked by Apollo, the god of the sun and the archer, Artemis his twin sister and Aphrodite of the golden hair.

As gods waged war upon gods, so too down on the plain did man against man. Spying his first foe, Achilles charged upon Aeneas, the son of Aphrodite and cousin of Hector. Breathing strength into the Trojan warrior, Apollo turned to face the wrathful Achilles. Taunting his audacity to face him alone, Achilles sprinted toward Aeneas. Facing his foe honourably, Aeneas hurls his heavy lance at the golden clad Achilles. His aim is true, and surely it would smite the life from Achilles, but no, the glittering gifts of the gods guarded the favoured Achilles. Five plies thick was the Shield of Achilles, the outer two forged of bronze, the inner two of tin and between them one of purest gold. The mighty ashen spear of Aeneas bores through two plies and held fast in the gold. Now Achilles’ turn. Taking up his spear of strong Pelian ash, the son of Peleus hurled with all his might. Straight through Aeneas’ shield the spear punched, but the Trojan crouched low, and the spear soared inches from his head and embedded firmly in the ground behind. Anguish rising in him, Aeneas fears that his time has come, as do the gods above. Drawing his sword, Achilles lunges to strike down the prince, but his blade passes only air, for Poseidon rushes to the field and bears Aeneas away to safety. The Fates have a plan for Aeneas, a magnificent destiny ahead in a distant land, it is not his time.

The Fury of Achilles
Painting by Charles-Antoine Coypel.

Furious at his humbled glory, Achilles charges into the massed ranks of the Trojans. Iphition is the first to fall, as Achilles deals him so violent a blow with his spear that the Trojan’s skull splits in half. His rage growing, Achilles rounds on Demoleon next and, with a shout, spears him in the temple, the bronze helmet buckling before the great warrior, Demoleon’s brains and gore showering his comrades. The carnage rising, Polydorus, the Prince of Troy and brother to Hector, falls to Achilles’ hands, the blood of yet another of Priam’s sons staining the fields of Troy. Then he sees him. Hector himself is close at hand. Gaze fixed upon the man who is the cause of his grief, Achilles speeds toward him as Death to a man. Apollo, seeing the danger, whisks Hector away from the battle. Roaring in defiance at the Heavens, the godlike Achilles hurls himself once again into the thick of war, rage tempered by grief for his fallen cousin. His blade hot with the blood of Trojan sons, and his anger hotter still, Achilles gives chase to his fleeing foe.

Achilles fights the River
Painting by Auguste Couder.

Coming to the banks of the Scamander River, many Trojans, looking upon the golden clad Achilles in terror, hurl themselves into its foaming waters, desperate to escape his spear. But nothing will break the lust for slaughter in Achaea’s greatest champion. Casting aside his great spear, he dives in, relentless in pursuit, hurling countless heroes to the House of Death. But Scamander is angered by the desecration of his waters. Rising from a whirlpool, the shape of a man, the god of the river begs Achilles to stop his rampage, as his channels are already choked with corpses. Scorning the god’s plea, Achilles advances, as Scamander swirls his waters to protect the fleeing Trojans, calling to Apollo for aid. His rage fired once more, Achilles charges the god himself. Bellowing as a bull, Scamander, his white rapids churning in fury, hurls his thunderous currents upon the hero. The powerful torrents batter that mighty shield, forcing Achilles on one knee. Cursing the river’s power, Achilles moves for the bank, eager to return to the battlefield. But the river refuses to let up, crashing upon the furious hero again and again:

                  “ Again and again the brilliant swift Achilles whirled...

                     Again and again the mighty crest of the river fed by the rains of Zeus

                     Came battering down on his shoulders, down from high above

                     But Achilles kept on leaping, higher, desperate now... ”

                                                 - SCAMANDER FIGHTS ACHILLES

Bemoaning that it is better to die under the spear of Hector than broken by the river, the lamentations of Achilles are heard throughout the Heavens. Rushing to his aid, the god Hephaestus, whose mighty hands made the shining armour now protecting Achilles, moves against the river. Conjuring up his divine power, the god of fire unleashes a maelstrom of fiery rage upon Scamander. The elms, willows and tamarisks upon its banks roar with flame, the lotus plants amongst its waters blacken with heat and the creatures within its waves writhe in agony as the blazing inferno takes hold. Hera sends the West and South Winds forth, and a searing gale blasts the Trojan troops, as the whole arena now erupts with fire. His waters bubbling and boiling with agony, Scamader cries in cruel pain, crippled under the onslaught. Relenting at last, the river releases its hold on Achilles, surrendering the great hero to his fate. Hephaestus quenches his flame, and makes his peace with Scamander. Fury pounding through his veins, Achilles leaps from the river and sprints toward the towering walls of Troy, focusing on one thing alone – Hector. The gods above will not interfere this time. This time, there will be no escape for the Prince of Troy, as total war descends upon the vast plains...

United Kingdom

Penguin Classics:
The Iliad (Penguin Classics)
(A translation which retains much of the poetic meter, my personal recommendation)

Oxford World's Classics:
The Iliad (Oxford World's Classics)
(A translation which omits some of the epithets in favour of 'easier' reading for the casual reader)

United States

Penguin Classics:
The Iliad (Penguin Classics)
(A translation which retains much of the poetic meter, my personal recommendation)

Oxford World's Classics:
The Iliad (Oxford World's Classics)
(A translation which omits some of the epithets in favour of 'easier' reading for the casual reader)

The Trials of Thor

The stories of mythology are rich with stories of the trials of men and heroes against mighty foes. But at times the gods, too, are tested and their weaknesses revealed. For the deities of the pagan religions, unlike the lone god of the Abrahamic faiths, are portrayed as far from perfect, and susceptible to very human faults. This is particularly true in the sagas of the Norse gods, who are not even truly immortal, remaining so only so long as they eat from the Blessed fruit – which on one occasion was hidden from them, with disastrous consequences. The Norse gods live, fight and die, and venture forth from Asgard to partake in splendid adventures. Most famous of these deities is undoubtedly the son of Odin, the god of thunder and war - Thor.

Thor -The Thunder God
Painting by Mårten Eskil Winge.

Though the Aesir, or war gods, of Asgard and the Jötunn of Jötunheim (for more on these, please click here) were on occasion the most terrible of foes, there were also times when both god and giant turned their hands to means other than war to humiliate the other. The harmony of the Nine Worlds depended on a delicate and fragile balance of power between the various races of the cosmos, a balance which the cruel Jötunn ever sought to overturn. There were times when the balance had to be restored, when the Jötunn needed to be shown their true place, for ever present was the looming prospect of Ragnarök, the day of all out war, when the Nine Worlds will be overturned with fire – a day which must be delayed at all costs. The supremacy of the gods depended on this. Our story here is one such time when the gods made such a visit upon the Jötunn.

Thor and Loki did one day take leave of Asgard for the towering heights of Útgarða, home to the King of the Giants amid the cruel wastelands of Jötunheim. Coming late one night on the Earth to a lowly hut, the two gods were warmly received by a small family, noble in spirit yet desperately poor. Unable to afford meat, the hosts offer a vegetable soup, not knowing that their guests were something more than the ordinary travelers. Taking pity on them, Thor slaughtered Tanngrisnir and Tanngnjóstr, the two goats which pulled the thunder god’s chariot through the sky. Asking that they spare the skins and bones, Thor and his company have their merry feast, although Thjálfi, the son of the host family, secretly snapped one of the goat’s bones so as to acquire the marrow. Waking next morning, Thor strides over to the remains of his loyal goats, and waves Mjöllnir – the famous hammer of Thor – over the bones. For the goats were no mere earthly goats, for at the Thunderer’s command, they returned to life, ready to serve their master once more. The god, however, soon noticed that one of his goats was lame in one leg, since its bone had been broken by the boy the night before. Rounding on the family in fury, Thor took along Thjálfi on his journey as repayment.

Skrýmir
Drawing by Friedrich Wilhelm Heine.

When night fell once again on their journey, the travelers chanced upon a strange hall in the wilderness. Door as wide as the walls, and possessed of many passages leading into it, the gods made camp for the night. Their sleep was not easy, broken by loud roars, and tremors in the Earth. Uneasy, Thor left the hall early in the morning and walked into the light. To his shock, he saw what had caused the noises in the night, a vast giant, sleeping in the forest. Turning back, he realised that the strange hall his kin had slept in was in fact the giant’s glove, so mighty in stature was he. Roused from his slumber, the giant introduced himself as Skrýmir, and offered to guide them to Útgarða, even offering to carry their provisions for them. The gods agreed, relieved that the mighty Jötunn was not hostile. Night fell once more, and Skrýmir began to snore loudly once again. Thor turned to their bag of provisions, desperately hungry. To his rage, the giant had tied the knot tight, too tight for the god to undo. The snoring bored into their heads all night until the Thunderer could tolerate it no longer. Taking up Mjöllnir, Thor “smote down upon the middle of his crown”. A mighty talisman which had conquered so many foes, and lain bare so many citadels, the blow should have slain the giant outright. Skrýmir raised an eyelid for a moment, thinking a leaf must have fallen upon his head, before once again falling asleep. Growing angry once again, Thor raised his Hammer high and smote the giant once again. “An acorn must have fallen on me”, spoke the weary Skrýmir. Enraged, Thor drew upon all his strength and smashed Mjöllnir onto the giant’s skull. Skrýmir sat up, bidding good morning to Thor, he explained that there must have been birds sleeping in the trees above him, for he thought he felt twigs and dirt fall upon him in his sleep. Telling the gods that they were almost there, Skrýmir ran ahead to prepare a welcome for them, his massive frame soon carrying him to Útgarða.

At last reaching the mighty fortress, Thor, Loki and Thjálfi crept through the grating into the vast hall, whereupon they were welcomed by Útgarða-Loki, King of the Jötunn and Master of Útgarða. Proclaiming loudly how puny the Aesir were compared with the Jötunn, the giant king challenged the gods to beat them at any event. Loki, the trickster, stepped forward, boldly claiming to be able to out eat any amongst them. Nodding in assent, Útgarða-Loki sent forth the giant Logi to challenge him. A vast banquet was laid and set in a trough, and the match began. God and giant ate quickly, and soon met in the middle of the trough. Having devoured all his food, Loki felt sure of victory, but to his dismay, saw that Logi had not only eaten all his food, but had consumed bones, plates and trough too. So the Giants claimed their first victory. Shocked, but not beaten, this time young Thjálfi stepped forward, claiming that no giant was such a runner as he. The giant Hugi accepted the challenge and the race began. Thjálfi ran swiftly, more swiftly than any man has done since, but upon reaching the halfway line, saw to his horror that Hugi had already finished. They raced once again, and again, but each time Thjálfi was easily beaten.

Útgarða-Loki turned to Thor and asked what task he would stake. Thor proudly stated that there was no other who could drink such as he. The king sent for a drinking horn, telling the thunder god:

                   “ It is held that this horn is well drained if it is drunk off in one drink,
                      but some drink it off in two; but no one is so poor a man at drinking
                      that he fails to drain it off in three ”
                                    - THE GIANT KING CHALLENGES THOR

Thor looked at the horn, which did not seem so big to him, though quite long. Putting it to his lips he drew breath and gulped like never before. Looking at the top of the horn, Thor saw to his rage that the level had barely dropped. He tried once again, and again, and made the level of the liquid fall just enough to be noticeable but no more. Laughing hysterically, the giants offered some easier tasks for Thor. The King sent out his own cat, asking if Thor was strong enough to lift it. Strongest of all the gods, and wearer of a belt which granted hyper strength, Thor felt sure he could at least do this. Heaving with all his divine might, the cat arched its back, and eventually, lifted just one paw off the ground. Laughing roundly at the god’s effort, the king issued his final challenge. After Thor proclaimed that he would readily wrestle any of the Jötunn, Útgarða-Loki sent forth his own nurse, a lady, bent with extreme age, to spar with the god. The two struggled and strained, and the withered lady brought the Thunderer down onto one knee. Humbled and utterly humiliated, Thor and his party stormed out of the fortress.

Útgarða-Loki explains to Thor
Drawing by Louise Huard.

Once in the wilderness again, Thor saw Útgarða-Loki approaching him. Telling the giant that he had shamed him, Thor was appalled with himself. The giant however, smiled and explained. Skrýmir had been him all along, and when he had bound their provisions he had done so in iron, and when Thor had struck him, he had struck the Earth itself. Pointing out three large canyons on the wilderness, Útgarða-Loki showed the god his folly. Whilst Loki was indeed a swift eater, his opponent in reality was Fire, which devours all in its path. Whilst Thjálfi was indeed a powerful runner, his opponent was in reality Thought, swifter than all else. Thor, though a formidable drinker, failed to see that the other end of the horn was in the Ocean itself, impossible for man to drain. The king’s cat was in reality the World Serpent, Jörmungand, so vast that he can circle the world and take his own tail in his mouth (for more about him, please click here). As for the ancient lady with whom the god had wrestled, she was Old Age herself, which overcomes all. Congratulating Thor on managing to raise the cat’s paw, and being forced onto one knee only by Old Age, Útgarða-Loki departed, warning the gods never to set foot in his lands again. Thor had been tested and humiliated, but he had learned valuable lessons.

United Kingdom

Penguin Classics:
The Prose Edda: Norse Mythology (Penguin Classics)
(A fast paced version well suited to the casual reader)

United States

Penguin Classics:
The Prose Edda: Norse Mythology (Penguin Classics)
(A fast paced version well suited to the casual reader)

The Fate of Sisyphus

Whilst the gods of ancient times were benefactors, patrons and sometimes creators of the human race, for a mortal human to scorn their authority was a dangerous game to play. For though the rewards of virtue in the afterlife could be eternal bliss in the tranquil, golden and peaceful fields of Elysium, those possessed of an evil spirit would be condemned to a terrible ordeal. Heaven and Hell, the places of ceaseless reward and torture after death, are not a Christian invention. The ideas are far more ancient. Indeed the stories of Heaven and Hell which are so remembered in the works of Dante and Milton (stories which are told on this site, please browse the archives for these), are directly inspired by the heroic stories of ancient Greece and Rome. The shades in the Underworld, and their fate there, could become legendary. One such man was just that. His name was Sisyphus.

The Isthmus of Corinth
Photograph taken by the author.

Sisyphus was descended from noble stock. The son of Aeolus and Enarete, grandson of Hellen (the father of the Hellenic race, and hence why anything Greek is referred to as ‘Hellenic’ – even the modern country of Greece is officially titled the Hellenic Republic) and great grandson of Zeus himself, the master of Olympus. Sisyphus’ own grandson was the hero Bellerophon (the story of whom is told here), slayer of the monstrous Chimaera. Scheming and malevolent, Sisyphus seized the throne of the great city of Corinth from his brother by force and seduced his own niece. Under his rule, however, Corinth grew rich and powerful through trade and violence to become one of the most majestic cities in Greece. However it was achieved through deceit and cruelty. Sisyphus held no qualms about cruelly murdering guests of his own household, and travellers to his lands. Hospitality, and the bond between host and guest, was a sacred concept to the Greeks even more so than it is today. Zeus himself was patron of it, and violation of it was one of the very worst of crimes, tantamount to a transgression of divine law.

Yet he did not stop there. Zeus, the master of the gods, was infamous for his unfaithfulness to his wife Hera, and frequently stole away with various nymphs, in hiding from her. One such nymph was Aegina, daughter of the River god Asopus, whom the Thunderer spirited away from her homeland in the guise of an eagle. Arising the next day, Asopus looked for his daughter, but in vain. Stricken by grief, Asopus searched the lands for her, calling her name. Sisyphus however, had inadvertently witnessed the abduction. Seizing his chance to humble the mightiest of gods, Sisyphus confided Zeus’ secret to the god of the river, who was outraged. But if he was outraged, it was nothing compared to the fury of Zeus, fury that a mortal considered himself just in confiding the secrets of Olympus.

Thanatos - the daemon of Death
Photograph taken by Marie-Lan Nguyen.

Preparing for what was to come, Sisyphus decided to test the loyalty of his wife, Queen Merope, with a strange request. He ordered her that on the day of his death, his body was not to be buried, but to lie dirtied in the streets, the plaything to the crows and jeers of the people. Bewildered and reluctant, Merope relented at last after Sisyphus’ urging. Meanwhile, Zeus summoned to him the grim god Thanatos. Thanatos was an ancient daemon, the son of Darkness and Night, brother of Sleep and Death incarnate. Hated by mortals and immortals alike, Pitiless in the execution of his duty and a terrifying figure upon which the rays of the Sun never fell, Thanatos was the harbinger of doom to all beings when their time was up. The time for Sisyphus’ passing was decreed, and the Thunderer ordered Thanatos to seize the cruel king and bind him in chains in the Underworld. The god commanded and the merciless daemon obeyed. Seeing his torment upon him, Sisyphus seemed resigned to his fate. Before bowing to the daemon’s command, Sisyphus asked him if he might demonstrate himself the strength of the chain first, so that he might marvel at its magnificence. Thanatos agreed, and bound himself in the chains to show that not even he could escape from them. Sisyphus gave a shout of malicious joy, taunting Death that he had bound him in his own chains. Laughing at his own cunning, Sisyphus climbed his way back to Earth, leaving the daemon of Death straining against his incarceration.

Tartarus
Painting by Jan Brueghel the Elder.

The uproar was catastrophic. With Thanatos bound in the Underworld, no mortal could die and complete their passage to the afterlife without him. The natural order of the cosmos had been overturned completely, the delicate balance thrown into chaos. Disease and Plague found no victim, Old Age broke none and however grievous their wounds, no soldier would die in war. Ares, the Lord of Slaughter and god of war grew angry. Battle had lost its glory when his foes would no longer die, and blood would no longer flow from either side on the field of war. Marching into Hades himself, Ares found the bound daemon and freed him from his bonds. Death was allowed once again to carry out his fell work. His first target was Sisyphus.

The Torture of Sisyphus
Painting by Titian.

Dragging the deceitful king to Hades, Sisyphus was condemned for a second time to the House of Death. However, there was a problem. No soul of the deceased could pass beyond the River Styx if their corporeal form had not received the proper burial rites. So the second scheme of Sisyphus came to play, for he had ordered his wife to hurl his corpse into the dusty square of Corinth. Sisyphus appealed to the Lady Persephone, the wife of Hades himself, asking her to allow him to return to Earth, so that he might chastise his wife for her disloyal and disrespectful treatment of his corpse. Falling for his persuasive words, the Queen of the Underworld relented, and granted her assent for this task. Silently exultant once again, for the second time Sisyphus marched unopposed from the Underworld. Returning to his city, taking up the royal mantle once more, he refused to return to Hades. Enraged at his insubordination, Zeus ordered Hermes to forcefully drag Sisyphus to the Underworld. This time, however, there was to be no chance of escape. Zeus condemned Sisyphus to Tartarus, the deepest part of the Underworld. It was a land of fire, smoke and ash, where only the cruellest of souls could be sent. The Titans themselves were bound in this land (for more on this, please click here). Doomed to an eternity of frustration and torment, Sisyphus was forced to carry out a fruitless task until the end of time. Cast at the foot of a great mount, the cruel king was forced to bear a heavy boulder up its steep slopes, amid the burning heat and acrid fumes of Tartarus:

              “ Bracing himself and thrusting with hands and feet he pushed the boulder
                uphill to the top. But every time, as he was about to send it toppling over
                the crest, its sheer weight turned it back, and once again towards the plain
                the pitiless rock rolled down. So once more he had to wrestle with the thing
                and push it up, while the sweat poured from his limbs and the dust rose high
                above his head. ”
                                             - THE TORMENT OF SISYPHUS

So would the endless cycle begin. No matter how hard he tries, he cannot push the boulder that last yard over the top. Such is the fate of Sisyphus, a man who dared to challenge a god.

The story of Sisyphus is legend. His name is as famous as his punishment, such that now any venture deemed fruitless or never ending is called 'sisyphean' in the English language. It is a powerful tale of pride and the consequences of it - a favourite moral tale to the ancients as much as it is to us. The story of Man against God, man against Nature and Man against Death is a motif which will endure as long as men can die. Sisyphus is mentioned in many places throughout Classical literature, but here I list a few of the most substantial episodes, all in easily available form from Amazon:

United Kingdom

The Odyssey:
The Odyssey (Penguin Classics)
(A masterpiece of literature, containing the description of Sisyphus's ordeal)

The Library of Greek Mythology:
The Library of Greek Mythology (Oxford World's Classics)
(Less poetic, but contains a collection of many of the myths of Greece)

United States

The Odyssey:
The Odyssey (Penguin Classics)
(A masterpiece of literature, containing the description of Sisyphus' ordeal)

The Library of Greek Mythology:
The Library of Greek Mythology (Oxford World's Classics)
(Less poetic, but contains a collection of many of the myths of Greece)