**
I am the goddess Kalypso, the daughter of the Titan Atlas. I lived alone for many seasons on my island, Ogygian, before Ulysses came. I had never known love or loss until he arrived. You must not believe the lies he has spread about our time together. He was a man crippled by fear and lust. If the truth had been known of how he’d willingly laid by my side for those seven years and never mourned the loss of his wife or son, he’d have met the same fate as Agamemnon when he returned home with the Lady Kassandra in tow. I let Ulysses go. But you must forgive me; I rush into my story.
No man may find Ogygian or see it as it truly is without my leave. One morning, the sun kissed the wreckage of some ship as the ocean tossed it. Collapsed atop of the debris was a man. Rosy fingered Dawn caressed the body.
**
In all seriousness, I was more hooked by the second paragraph ("No man may find...") than the first.
One thing you might consider - and this is merely a suggestion - is framing a story with your own characters and settings based on some of the themes you find intriguing in this section of the Odyssey. I personally find that sort of story more entertaining than a re-write of a classic, but that's just me.
And I'm assuming that "rosy-fingerd dawn" is a direct and deliberate Homeric reference, but it has become something of a cliche so you need to be very careful how you use that...
I'd read on, because I like myth, so I'll be interested to see it when you're done.
"Rosy fingered Dawn.." as well as some of the later descriptions is taken directly from Homer. One of the things I find fun about this one is trying to mesh my voice with Homer's. We'll see it in the end.
What about:
No man may find my island, Ogygian, or see it as it truly is without my leave. I am the goddess Kalypso, the daughter of Atlas. One morning, the sun kissed the wreckage of some ship as the ocean tossed it. Collapsed atop of the debris was a man. Rosy fingered Dawn caressed the body. Upon feeling her touch, the man awoke. It is not unusual for shards of shattered vessels to pass my island. Normally, I would have turned away and allowed Neptune to have them for what it the suffering of man to me? I could not turn away. The man captivated me. Sun baked and nearly naked, he clung to life with a tenacity that rivaled my father’s in balancing the world. I put my hand to my brow to shade my eyes from the sun’s glare and watched him.
**
Is that more captivating? It was originally the second paragraph.
No man may find my island, Ogygian, or see it as it truly is without my leave: I am the goddess Kalypso, the daughter of Atlas, and this is my domain. [This explains why she's bothering to give us her ancestry and status: it's relevant to her "no man may find my island" statement.]
Still, when a man washed up on my shore on the wreckage of an ill-fated ship, I could not turn him away. Normally, I would allowed Neptune to have him, for what is the suffering of a man, to me? But the man captivated me. Sun baked and nearly naked, he clung to life with a tenacity that rivaled my father’s in balancing the world. I put my hand to my brow to shade my eyes from the sun’s glare and watched him from [wherever she's standing].
My point is that I want the author to show us, at each point, why Kalypso cares about what she's saying (and thus why we should).
I like first person narratives because they put the reader in the head of the character. They are personal and intimate, whereas stories in third person keep the reader at a distance. If you allow the narrator's emotions and personality to come through more in her telling of events, you'll keep the reader hooked.
It's definitely an intriguing idea you've got started here. I'd keep reading.
Your first beginning had me hooked, although I feel the second one flows a bit better IMHO. Also too, in the second I think that by swapping the second sentance for the first and vice versa would work as a better introduction, again, only my opinion.
I am the goddess Kalypso, the daughter of Atlas. No man may find my island, Ogygian, or see it truly without my leave.
[This message has been edited by mommiller (edited March 28, 2006).]
[This message has been edited by mommiller (edited March 29, 2006).]
This story falls into the general catagory of "let me set the record straight" narratives. This one is an entry in the rather tired "he said, she said" genre, but that's okay. I think it would be more interesting as a "Homer said, Ulysses said" story, myself, but that's probably just me.
In any case, "This is the truth about what happened between myself and Ulysses" is your lead in. Making the point about her being a goddess and total sovereign of her domain speaks to her verity in a couple of ways, so that's good.
One problem that occurs to me, why does she care about telling this story? Who's the audience? Doesn't it seem a little pathetic, this apologetic over what she chose to do, in her own home, with a mere mortal? Even if, being a minor goddess, she saw beauty in his living more than his dying, does that mean his story needs an answer?
Maybe that's just me.
Anyway, your voice is good but the lack of coherent motives for her statements does make it harder to interpret than need be.
My thought was that she is telling this to a bard who she's allowed to land on the island because her children are now out in the world too. I had planned on having her pause from the narrative and interact with the bard in a few paragraphs. But I can bring the bard in quicker if it alleviates the question of audience.
Most myths have Kalypso dying of a broken heart after Ulysess leaves even though she had one or two (depending on whose telling the story) children with him. Homer has Ulysses pining for his wife and son for 7 years without expiring while he lives with Kalypso. Part of the motivation is to correct the belief that she is dead.
My concern is that I don't want the beginning to sound too much like the start of The Firebrand, which is a retelling of the Trojen war from Kassandra's perspective. That starts with a bard telling the story of the fall of Troy based on Homer's version and Kassandra telling him that he knew nothing. He then begs her to tell him what really happened.
As an alternative, I could soften the tone a bit and have her telling the story of her relationship with Ulysses to thier children.
Either way, we need to have some basis for believing that the narrator would be telling the story, even if we don't get the specific reason right off the bat. In my experience, it's really hard to get your romantic demi-goddesses to tell a good story, they're just so secretive about such things. I am a guy, though.
I know, I know the bard is trite and cliche. The other thought I had last night was that she was telling her great great great or so grandchildren. Those children would have grown up with Homer's version of the relationship. Kalypso probably wouldn't be as frank with her children as she would be with some distant descendant.
In any event, it means more writing for me. Yea!
***
I am the goddess Kalypso, the daughter of the Titan Atlas. No man may find Ogygian or see it as it truly is without my leave. I have allowed you, my descendants to enter my domain so that you may learn the truth about what happened between myself and Ulysses. While you are here, you will have every comfort. I see from your furtive looks that you are worried. Forget the lies you have heard about me. When you desire to leave, I shall put bread, wine, and water on board your boat to save you from starving. I will also give you clothes, and will send you a fair wind to take you home.
There was a large fire burning on the hearth, and I could smell from far the fragrant reek of burning cedar and sandal wood. I set meat and drink before my children of the food that mortals eat; but my maids brought ambrosia and nectar for me. As I settled into my chair, my progeny laid their hands on the good things that were before them. Once I was sure their needs were sated, I began my story.
***
Just a few word changes though will set the story properly. It sounds very interesting, have you finished it yet?
Who is the audience in paragraph 2, since she is no longer directly addressing her descendants?
But actually, paragraph 2 with its lack of a specific audience feels more comfortable to me than paragraph 1. Most first person narratives I've read aren't addressed to anybody in particular, yet are very effective. Ishiguro's narrative style in "The Remains of the Day" and "Never Let Me Go" is like that -- the audience is the reader, and there is no other. It keeps the reader close to the narrator, so that the story feels very personal.
By contrast, having her address the descendants introduces other characters the reader must be aware of, who are between the narrator and the reader. It's a bit more distance. I suppose it all depends on how important the descendants are to the story, and what effect you want.