Ogygia and Calypso’s Cave: Where Malta fits into The Odyssey

I was in Canada the first time I read The Odyssey. Sitting in that freezing university classroom, tucked down in the basement of our building, I listened closely as our professor read aloud Homer’s descriptions of Ogygia. I could see the dark blue waves carved behind my eyelids. I could taste the wine, “ruddy and sweet,” on my tongue, and feel the sharp, pale rocks stabbing the soles of my feet as Odysseus ran down to the beach.

For over two thousand years, historians and poets have identified Gozo with Ogygia, the island on which Odysseus was trapped by the nymph Calypso for seven years. That’s why we have the now-closed potential death trap that is Calypso’s Cave.

Much about the over 12,000-line epic poem is speculation. For millennia, people have wondered whether the Trojan War ever happened, whether Homer really wrote it, and whether he existed at all in the first place. Likewise, we can never know whether Ogygia really was Gozo. But geographically, it does make a lot of sense, and as a Maltese person, I’d like to go with that.

Odysseus washed up on the shores of Ogygia after becoming stranded with his men on the island of Helios, which is generally identified with Sicily today. If you’ve watched the movie, you already know that their trip did not go so well.

Odysseus wandering the desolate shores of Ogygia

Beyond Ogygia’s “envied shores”, which Homer says would make even the gods stare in wonder, he describes a cave covered in grapevines and surrounded by purple violets and wild parsley. In this cave, Odysseus was held captive by the semi-goddess Calypso. That sort of thing really makes you appreciate this godforsaken island.

Outside are hundreds of “odorous cypress, pines, and poplars, where sea-owls bred,” all of which have become pretty sparse in the 21st century. I can’t say those descriptions didn’t leave a sour taste in my mouth as I pictured what our island has been reduced to today. But more on that later.

Odysseus’ journey to Ogygia was certainly no two-hour Virtu Ferries trip either. For nine days, he was thrashed around by a furious sea, kept alive only because Athena had taken a liking to him, before washing up on an island surrounded on all sides by the Mediterranean and far from the race of men. Well, that’s what happens when you piss off Poseidon.

So, here’s a lesson for any Maltese person planning a summer trip to Sicily—make sure to offer a sacrifice to Poseidon before you get on the ferry. This is especially true if you happen to be returning from a war in which you completely demolished a city built in his honour, and even more so if you blinded his one-eyed son. That might be getting a little specific, but I’d offer the sacrifice either way.

I watched Christopher Nolan’s film at Eden. Cinema 6. I have a feeling the AC was switched off because it was really hot in there. The guy sitting to my right kept offering me swigs of whiskey he’d mixed into his Starbucks Caramel Latte. Not as bad as it sounds.

Homer’s Ogygia, Nolan’s not so Gozo

The movie starts off on Ogygia, with Odysseus wandering aimlessly along the shore, trying to figure out how on earth he got there in the first place. Not to be that person, but that’s not at all how it goes in the poem. Actually, I’m going to be that person a lot as I write this.

Anyway, I immediately noticed that Ogygia looked absolutely nothing like the island described by Homer, and even less like Gozo. At most, Nolan’s shores could be compared to the long stretch of white rock hidden behind Riviera. Only in January. But even that would be pushing it.

Calypso Cave Gozo (Photo: Kurt Sansone/MaltaToday)

Maybe my Maltese bias is showing, but I don’t think Nolan did much research into Gozo or Ogygia, and he most certainly has never been to Ramla l-Ħamra or the cave that hangs above it. I don’t think the word “Ogygia” is mentioned once throughout the entire three-hour movie.

As you watch the movie, you quickly find out that Calypso has been drugging Odysseus with lotus flowers to keep him from remembering the numerous shitshows that led him to Ogygia. Lotus flowers were considered psychedelic at the time. Think of them as a sort of mix of MDMA and mushrooms. Very popular in ancient Egypt. Please do not take this as a sign to eat a bunch of lotus flowers.

Again, none of this happens in the epic, in which Odysseus appears to have been held captive and repeatedly raped by Calypso for seven years while she offered him immortality, all as he sobbed hysterically over his wife. I guess Nolan went with more of a roofie approach.

However, I have to admit that the lotus flower rework is reminiscent of dealers promoting Blue Punishers to prospective tourists on social media, so the situation isn’t all that different on the ground, even three thousand years later. Maybe Nolan did do his research!

That being said, what I found significantly more resonant than the descriptions of olive trees and wild parsley was the isolation, and Nolan does a good job of capturing it. While his version of Ogygia felt physically unfamiliar to me, the feeling was there.

Even in Homer, Ogygia is defined as much by its isolation as by its beauty. Everything is set up for the island to be Odysseus’ paradise, but, instead, it is a prison. The gods stop in awe of its seashores, but our hero sits sobbing on its cliffs, dreaming of the home he can no longer remember.

That idea of an island you have to dope yourself up on lotus flowers to tolerate staying on also felt real to me. I see that in people here. High, drunk, and dreaming of escape; Maltese people sit by the seashore trying to forget whatever it is we have left to fight for.

I felt that while reading the epic, and I felt it while watching the film. As I sat in that freezing classroom and that boiling cinema, I realised that Homer’s Ogygia simply no longer exists. And while Odysseus does find his way back home, even after two decades lost at sea, can we?

Some historians believe Malta was actually the three-pointed island of Helios, where Odysseus’ men slaughtered a herd of cattle despite being warned by the gods not to touch them. Helios demanded punishment for their impiety, and Zeus eventually killed all of them, except Odysseus.

As I said, Helios’ Island is widely considered to be modern-day Sicily, famous for its three points of Capo Peloro, Capo Passero, and Capo Lilibeo. Even its symbol, the Trinacria, depicts the Greek mythological monstress Medusa, surrounded by three legs. That being said, I can see how Malta might have a claim to the story.

Much of our coastline has been slaughtered by sunbeds owned by overpriced restaurants, while our pines and poplars have long since ceased to be a home for sea-owls. I mean, I personally don’t even know what a sea-owl is. Calypso’s Cave has been closed to the public, and the sea belting our island is contaminated with faeces and carved up by private yacht marinas. Would the gods still stop in awe?

Maybe I’m doing too much with all that. But here’s my conclusion: Read the epic to remember what Ogygia was, and watch the movie to feel what it is. And while you’re at it, savour a caramel latte spiked with whiskey.