It all kicked off yesterday evening when my nine-year-old niece FaceTimed me, waving her Greek mythology coloring book. "Uncle," she says, "who’s the witch lady that turns sailors into pigs?" That got me scratching my head – was it Medea? Hecate? Nope, turns out she meant Circe. And honestly? I only half-remembered her from some old poem. Time to dive down that rabbit hole.
My Deep-Dive Mission
First thing after breakfast, I dusted off my ancient copy of Homer’s Odyssey – the one with coffee stains on page 387 where Circe shows up. Flipped straight there and reread her scene: Odysseus’ crew slurping her magic potion, POOF, swine everywhere. But here’s what shocked me – the text explicitly says she used a staff! Always pictured her with a wand like Harry Potter, but nope. Grabbed sticky notes, tagged every mention of her "rod" or "wand." Felt like a detective finding buried clues.
Next stop: my university’s digital archives. Typed "Circe NOT Medea" (those two always get mixed up) and uncovered wild details Homer skipped:
- Pharmaceutical skills: Dude brewed hallucinogenic potions from roots – think ancient Greek ayahuasca
- Shape-shifting resume: Swapped more species than a Dr. Moreau intern (lions to wolves)
- Daddy issues: Her dad Helios (sun god) gifted her that staff personally during Sunday brunch on Mount Olympus
Screenshotted so many PDF footnotes my laptop groaned.
Connect-the-Dots Time
Made myself a spiderweb chart in my journal linking all her magic tricks:
- Transmutation ➡️ Staff + herbal tea
- Weather control ➡️ Praying to dad for thunder
- Prophetic visions ➡️ Drugged-out "trances"
Realized her "sorcery" was basically experimental botany + godly connections. Also learned she mentored Medea later – total witch industry nepotism!
Mind Blown Moment
Just as I wrapped up, found a research paper from 2017. Archaeologists dug up 2500-year-old vases in Athens showing Circe… holding not a staff, but a ladle. Ladle! They now think her "potions" were literally kitchen witchery – using everyday tools to spike sailors’ wine. Maybe Homer exaggerated the fancy staff? Game-changer. Suddenly this goddess felt more like a sneaky aunt slipping herbs into your stew.
Ended up video-calling my niece back tonight with all this. Her review? "Cooler than Hermione." Nailed it.
