Mythos: A Retelling of the Myths of Ancient Greece

The wings at Hermes’ heels fluttered, flickered and hummed and he was gone.

He returned in the blink of an eye. ‘Sisyphus never reached the underworld. Thanatos was sent to Corinth to fetch him half a moon ago and neither has been seen since.’

‘Corinth!’ roared Ares. ‘What are we waiting for?’

The locked wardrobe in the bedchamber was soon found and wrenched open, revealing a humiliated Thanatos sitting tearfully in the corner under some cloaks. Hermes took him to the infernal regions where Hades waved his hand to release the enchanted manacles.

‘We will speak about this later, Thanatos,’ he said. ‘For the moment a logjam of souls awaits you.’

‘First let me fetch that villain Sisyphus, sire,’ pleaded Thanatos. ‘He won’t be able to trick me twice.’

Hermes arched an eyebrow, but Hades looked across to Persephone, sitting in her throne next to his. She nodded. Thanatos was her favourite amongst all the servants of the underworld.

‘Just make sure you don’t foul it up,’ grunted Hades, dismissing him with a wave of the hand.

Burial Rites

We have established that Sisyphus was no fool. He did not imagine for a second that Thanatos would stay locked in his closet for eternity. Sooner or later Death would be released and set upon his trail once more.

In the town villa in which he had made temporary lodging, Sisyphus addressed his wife. After his niece Tyro drowned his sons and left him he had married again. His new young queen was as kindly and obedient as Tyro had been wilful and contrary.

‘My dear,’ he said, drawing her to him, ‘I feel that soon I shall die. When I have breathed my last and my soul has fled what will you do?’

‘I will do what must be done, my lord. I will wash and anoint you. I will place an obolus on your tongue so that you might pay the ferryman. We will stand guard seven days and seven nights over your catafalque. Burnt offerings will be made to please the King and Queen of the Underworld. And in this way your journey to the Meadows of Asphodel shall be a blessed one.’

‘You mean well, but that is exactly what you must not do,’ said Sisyphus. ‘The moment I am dead I want you to strip me naked and have me thrown into the street.’

‘My lord!’

‘I am quite serious. Deadly serious. This is my desire, my entreaty, my command. No matter what anyone else says, you will send up no prayers, make no sacrifices, perform no obsequies. Treat my remains as you would those of a dog. Promise me that.’

‘But –’

Sisyphus took her by the shoulders and looked deep into her eyes to reinforce the earnestness of his commands. ‘As you love me and are bound to me, as you hope never to be haunted by my angry shade, promise to do exactly as I have said. Swear it on your soul.’

‘I – I swear it.’

‘It is good. Now, let us drink. A toast – “To life!” ’

His timing, as ever, was impeccable, for that very evening Sisyphus was awoken by the whisper of Death at his bedside.

‘Your time is come, Sisyphus of Corinth.’

‘Ah, Thanatos. I’ve been expecting you.’

‘Do not hope to trick me.’

‘Me? Trick you?’ Sisyphus stood and bowed in meek submission, putting up his wrists for shackling. ‘Nothing could be further from my mind.’

The manacles were attached and the pair glided down to the mouth of the underworld. Thanatos left Sisyphus at the near bank of the Styx and departed, anxious to make headway with the great backlog of souls that were awaiting collection.

Charon the ferryman sculled his boat across and Sisyphus stepped aboard. As he poled the boat off the bank, Charon stretched out his palm.

‘Nothing doing,’ said Sisyphus, patting his pockets.

Without a word Charon pushed him overboard into the blackness of the Styx. It was cold, abominably cold, but Sisyphus managed to get across. The waters burned and blistered his skin almost beyond endurance, but once he was on the other side he knew that he presented just such a piteous sight as he had intended.

Shades flitted past him, averting their eyes.

‘Which way to the throne room?’ he asked of one. Following their directions he found himself in the presence of Persephone.

‘Dread queen,’ Sisyphus inclined his head. ‘I beg an audience with Hades.’

‘My husband is in Tartarus today. I speak for him. Who are you and how can you dare stand before me in this condition?’

Sisyphus was naked, an ear was torn off and one of his eyes hung down from its socket. His spectral body was covered in bite marks, welts, bruises, gashes and open sores, testimony to its physical counterpart’s rough treatment on the streets of Corinth above. His wife had obeyed his instructions.