Someone returns, supposedly: but who? A hero? A lover? A father? Some adventurer, or just an errant soul? A mere nobody? A plotter? A thief? And returns to what? What can this “Ithaca” be, if indeed it can be something more than mere nostalgia, the wounds of returning? A piece about loss, and finding, and founding. Setting keel to breakers, forth on the winedark sea. In the sinking whalebrow. (MC)
