The Muse who lived in a Cave
For Calliope, Muse of Epic Poetry

Once upon a time there was a Muse who lived in a cave. She made a bed of the freshest green leaves and the sweetest smelling flowers. She sat on a moss covered stool and ate off silver plates. She loved to talk with the rocks and learn all their secrets, of the world before men, before gods and heroes.

"It’s so restful here," Calliope said to her sisters. "I’m tired of hearing about battles and bloodshed. One war follows on so quickly from the last. The clash of swords, severed limbs, blood spattering everywhere. If you’d seen what I’ve seen, you’d move in here too."

"If only they’d make love and not war," Erato said, "you’d be able to retire. You could come and live with me. It’s much more fun, believe me, being the Muse of Erotic Poetry."

"I need you. How can men make sense of History without your Art?" Clio complained.

"Without your role models, heroism would die," Melpomene cried. "Then where would I be? Boring little domestic tragedies.. kitchen sink dramas… please come back Calliope."

"No. It’s too hard," Calliope insisted. "No one writes great epics anymore. Everything has degenerated."

"You loved the Lord of the Rings movies," Urania said.

"Yes, but did they mention me at the Oscars? Not one word of thanks. And I exhausted myself on their behalf."

Despite all their pleading Calliope remained firm. She would not move out of the cave. With each passing day she became more fascinated by the subterranean world. As her eyes grew accustomed to the absence of light, she found new passageways that led deeper into the earth where no human had ever penetrated. She found caverns where an underground river flowed and crystals flowered on every rock. Stalagmites and stalactites strained to reach each other. Fossils lodged in the surface of the rocks, dreaming of the days when dinosaurs ruled the earth.

"You’re the real heroes," Calliope whispered. Even so, her voice echoed back at her time and time again. "Your strength is unsurpassable. You support the whole planet. Millions of years, and have you ever troubled me for a single word?"

"Look love, keep the noise down a bit. I’m trying to sleep."

A form detached itself from the rock and a man appeared. His skin was the colour of stones washed by the sea. Pink, blue, yellow and green speckled the grey. One eye was sapphire, the other emerald. Moss formed his eyebrows and grew in his hair.

"Who are you?" Calliope whispered.

"Who am I? How dare you come here and ask me that?" As he spoke his chin jutted out and his body solidified. "Now look what you’ve made me do! You’ve no idea how much effort it is to move! Now I’ll have to begin all over again."

"Don’t blame me for your bad temper, you insolent .. you.. well, what are you anyway?"

"I asked first. You’re the intruder here. This is my realm."

"I think you’ll find you’re mistaken. You may have been the first to speak, but you certainly didn’t …"

"Do you ever stop talking?" the man interrupted. "Damn, you’ve made me do it again."

"I’m Call .. "

"Not now, woman. Can’t you see I’m preoccupied?"

Strange bulges were appearing all over his body. His face was creased and contorted. He veered from side to side and seemed about to topple over.

"Here," Calliope stretched out her hand. "Let me help you."

The man spluttered, spitting out moss and flakes of granite, but his shape began to smooth out and his feet emerged to steady him.
"That’s better, isn’t it? Now, let me introduce myself, though I’m surprised you don’t know me. I’m Calliope, the Muse of Epic Poetry."

"That’s a mouthful, isn’t it. Sounds like a lot of airy-fairy rubble to me."

"I’ll have you know that I’ve inspired the greatest, the very greatest poets in all human history.. Homer, Virgil, Dante, Milton, Blake.."

"Human history .. don’t make me laugh. No, please don’t" he said more urgently as he began to fragment.

"Tell me your name… or I’ll do worse than that."

"I’m stone-age-man," he said, pronouncing the words very slowly.

"I don’t understand. They died out millennia ago."

"There you go, insulting me again."

"I think you’ll find you’re …"

"You don’t have to tell me what I am, woman. I’m trying to explain if you would just shut up for a moment."

"Calm down. Look what happened last time you lost your temper," Calliope said.

"So listen and don’t keep interrupting. As I was saying, I am stone-age-man. I keep the archetype alive and healthy. Haven’t you heard the saying, a chip off the old block? That’s me. I live in every man. There was no need for muses in my day," he said sneeringly.

"Stone Age Man? That’s preposterous," Calliope retorted. "There is such a thing as evolution, but I don’t expect you’ve ever heard of that, living down here in the dark all these millennia."

"Don’t talk to me about evolution. I’ve lived it. Look here, and here." He pointed to the strata that streaked his body. "Carboniferous period. Without that, none of you lot would even exist."

Despite herself, Calliope was fascinated by the different layers of rock that composed his body. She touched each one, feeling their different textures and strengths. As she did so, they transferred their whole history until she began to feel dizzy with the sheer immensity of it.

"It’s all here," the man said. "but you don’t hear me boasting."

"It’s marvellous. I had no idea.."

"No, too tied up in your own problems. Don’t think I didn’t hear you. I hear everything. Chattering away to my rocks, prising out their secrets, sharing your problems… there was none of that in.."

"I know, I know. In your day everything was different."

"Well, what’s done is done. That’s a lesson you could learn."

"Me! You think you can teach me."

"Without a doubt. If you’re so perfect, what are you doing mooching around down here where you don’t belong? Not unless they sent you here."

"They?"

"The Gods, woman, who else?"

"No one sent me.. I came of my own accord. I want to be here. You’ve no idea what it’s like up there. No one needs me anymore." Calliope began to cry.

"Don’t talk such rubble. Now who’s exaggerating? Call yourself a Muse!"

"Comedy, Tragedy, Astronomy.. they’re all thriving. Even Polymnia.. you’ve no idea how many people are chanting.. but epic poetry… well, I hate to say it, but it’s obsolete."

"Obsoo ..leete," he pronounced the word very slowly. "Nothing, woman, is ever obsolete. We all live on, in one way or another. And you thought you could teach me about evolution!"

"What do you mean?" Calliope asked.

"Change, woman. The first and last law of the universe. All things must change yet everything stays the same."

"I still don’t understand."

"Life goes on. What goes around, comes around. Even in my so-called day, they knew that."

"But that’s the problem. I hear the same thing every day; severed limbs, blood splattering everywhere.. wars and wars and yet more wars.."

"Well there’s none of that down here. We haven’t seen a good battle since the Titans. Look, let’s do a deal. You entertain us stones with some of your Epics and we’ll let you draw on our histories. You’ll never run short of inspiration again."

"What a brilliant idea," the Muse said, kissing him on both cheeks.

So Calliope sat down and began to recite. She began with The Odyssey, The Iliad and The Aenead. They learned how Arthur pulled the sword from the stone and how Sir Gawain slew the Greene Knighte. They travelled together through Inferno, Purgatory and Paradise. They heard how Paradise was lost and found again. They witnessed the Marriage of Heaven and Hell. They accompanied Frodo on his quest and they rode into battle with Genghis Khan and his warrior horde.

"Enough, enough," Stone-age-man cried. "We’ll never be bored again."

"But I haven’t got to Bruce Lee yet," Calliope protested. "You’ll love him."

So they sat for a bit longer and Calliope taught him the Way of the Dragon and how Tigers crouch before they leap.

"That’s marvellous," Stone-age-man said. "I’d no idea such stories existed. You must go back, the world needs you."

"I suppose you’re right. But I’ll miss you. I haven’t enjoyed myself so much for centuries."

The Muse kissed the man farewell and he kissed her back, implanting a crystal in her lip. She took one long, last look at her surroundings: the underground river, the stalagmites and stalactites, the fossils and all the gleaming and glittering crystals, then started her journey back to the upper world.