In a world of heroes fueled by divine rage, brute strength, and godly blessings, Odysseus carved a different legacy—one of intellect, craft, and sheer nerve. While Achilles was a force of nature and Heracles the embodiment of strength, Odysseus stood as the tactician, the trickster, and the survivor. He was the hero who didn’t overpower his foes—he outthought them. Born the son of Laertes and ruler of the modest island kingdom of Ithaca, Odysseus didn’t need grandeur to make his mark. Armed with little more than quick wit, persuasive speech, and an uncanny ability to see five steps ahead, he became the architect of the Trojan Horse, the bane of monsters, and the master of disguise. Throughout the Iliad, the Odyssey, and countless later tales, Odysseus proved time and again that a sharp mind could triumph where swords failed. These ten stories showcase the most brilliant, daring, and wildly creative tricks ever pulled by the man who made cunning into an art form.
#10: Polyphemus
Odysseus’ legendary escape from the Cyclops Polyphemus remains one of the greatest examples of strategic deception in all of mythology. Trapped in a cave with his men, facing a one-eyed giant who casually devours them, Odysseus doesn’t panic—he plots. First, he earns the monster’s trust with wine, exploiting Polyphemus’ ignorance and thirst. Then, with poetic irony, he introduces himself as “Nobody.” Once the Cyclops is drunk and unconscious, Odysseus drives a sharpened stake into his eye, blinding him. But the real genius is in the exit plan. When Polyphemus cries out for help, screaming that “Nobody” has hurt him, the other Cyclopes ignore his pleas. Then, instead of rushing for the exit, Odysseus hides his men beneath the sheep, using the very livestock Polyphemus cares for as a disguise. It’s not just clever—it’s theatrical. And while this trick cost him Poseidon’s wrath, it proved Odysseus’ ability to survive the impossible. This story isn’t about brute force; it’s about using language, timing, and psychology to escape certain death.
#9: The Trojan Horse
Perhaps the most famous war stratagem in Western literature, the Trojan Horse was a masterpiece of subterfuge conceived by Odysseus to end the ten-year stalemate of the Trojan War. The plan was simple in design, but revolutionary in impact. After faking a retreat and leaving behind a massive wooden horse, hollowed out and filled with elite Greek soldiers, Odysseus relied on Trojan curiosity and pride to do the rest. He even arranged for a clever Greek soldier, Sinon, to stay behind and sell the lie—that the horse was a sacred offering to Athena and that destroying it would bring doom. The Trojans, blinded by victory and hubris, brought the horse into their city. That night, Odysseus and the soldiers crept out, opened the gates, and triggered the city’s downfall from within. This was not just military strategy—it was theater, manipulation, and psychological warfare combined. Odysseus didn’t just end a war—he redefined how wars could be won, not on the battlefield, but in the mind.
#8: The Bow of Odysseus
Upon his return to Ithaca after twenty years, Odysseus finds his home overrun by arrogant suitors vying for his wife Penelope’s hand. Instead of charging in with weapons drawn, Odysseus disguises himself as a beggar. Penelope, clever in her own right, declares that she will marry the man who can string Odysseus’ mighty bow and shoot an arrow through twelve axe heads. The challenge is impossible for any but Odysseus himself. Watching the suitors fail one by one, Odysseus finally steps forward, still in disguise. With flawless ease, he strings the bow and completes the challenge, revealing himself just before unleashing vengeance upon the suitors. This wasn’t just a feat of strength—it was the long con. Odysseus could’ve reclaimed his home by force, but he chose strategy. He manipulated perception, bought time, and struck only when victory was assured. This trick wasn’t just about reclaiming a throne—it was about reasserting control through intelligence and patience.
#7: Scylla and Charybdis
Sailing through the narrow straits between the monster Scylla and the deadly whirlpool Charybdis is one of Odysseus’ most harrowing challenges. Warned by Circe, Odysseus understands that he must choose the lesser of two evils—either risk losing the entire ship to Charybdis or sacrifice a few men to Scylla. The trick here is not in brute resistance but in acceptance and calculation. Odysseus, ever the realist, chooses Scylla, steering the ship close enough that only six of his men are lost. He tells the rest nothing, shielding them from fear and panic. The brilliance lies in understanding the impossible and still making a choice that preserves the greater good. It’s strategic leadership under pressure—deciding when to fight and when to survive. This story shows that Odysseus didn’t always win cleanly—but he always won smart.
#6: The Sirens
The Sirens’ song lured sailors to their doom, but Odysseus, always hungry for knowledge, wants to hear it and live to tell the tale. He orders his crew to plug their ears with beeswax and then tie him to the mast. As they sail past, Odysseus writhes and begs to be released, enchanted by the song, but the crew obeys his earlier command and sails safely past. This trick wasn’t about escape—it was about curiosity, control, and pre-planning. Odysseus was the only mortal to hear the Sirens and survive—not by resisting, but by preparing. It was a lesson in self-awareness: he knew he’d be tempted, so he engineered a solution that would save him from himself. That kind of foresight is rare—even among heroes.
#5: The Disguise as a Beggar
Perhaps one of the most underrated feats of cunning by Odysseus was his disguise upon returning to Ithaca. Knowing that his kingdom had become infested with power-hungry suitors and that walking in as himself would spark immediate violence, he chose to return not as a king—but as a beggar. With the help of Athena, he disguised himself in rags, limping and dirty, to blend in unnoticed. This wasn’t cowardice—it was surveillance. He used this disguise to gather intelligence, test the loyalty of his servants, and determine who among his household still honored him. His ability to swallow pride and act the part of the lowest member of society while walking amongst his enemies proved that true strength lies not in domination but in discipline. He watched the suitors gorge themselves on his livestock and insult him to his face—storing up every slight with the patience of a master tactician. The disguise allowed him to orchestrate the suitors’ downfall from the inside, striking when no one expected and reestablishing his power on his own terms. In this moment, Odysseus showed that a true king rules not with fury, but with foresight.
#4: The False Madness to Avoid War
Before the Trojan War even began, Odysseus didn’t want to go. Having just fathered a child with Penelope and settled into his rule over Ithaca; he tried to avoid the war entirely by feigning madness. When Greek envoys came to enlist him, they found him plowing a field with salt and acting erratically. He hoped they would declare him unfit for war and move on. But the Greeks, skeptical of his act, placed his infant son Telemachus in the path of the plow. Without hesitation, Odysseus turned aside, revealing his sanity and love for his son. The trick didn’t work in the end, but it demonstrated the incredible lengths he was willing to go to preserve peace and protect his family. While others rushed toward glory, Odysseus tried to outwit fate itself. And though the ruse failed, it remains one of his boldest and most human ploys—a demonstration that intellect, even in defeat, can still reveal deeper truth. He was a reluctant hero, one who understood the cost of war long before the first arrow flew.
#3: Besting Circe
The sorceress Circe had a deadly reputation—turning Odysseus’ men into pigs with a flick of her wand. But where others might storm in with sword drawn, Odysseus approached her with strategy. With Hermes’ help, he consumed the magical herb moly, which made him immune to Circe’s spell. When she tried to enchant him, it failed—and Odysseus, sword in hand but level-headed, forced her to reverse her spell. What followed wasn’t a battle, but a truce. In fact, they became lovers, and Odysseus and his crew remained with her for a year. This moment highlights his ability not just to avoid danger, but to turn potential enemies into allies. He didn’t slay Circe—he converted her. That required not just magic, but diplomacy, self-control, and an understanding of power that went far beyond the battlefield. Odysseus didn’t just survive her island—he mastered it.
#2: The Test of the Bed
After twenty years away, Odysseus finally returns to Penelope. But his trials are not yet over. Penelope, cautious and sharp, needs to be sure it’s really him. She tests Odysseus by ordering their bed to be moved. But Odysseus knows the truth—he built that bed himself, rooted into a living olive tree and immovable. His reaction—confused, even angry—reveals his identity more powerfully than any proof of arms or face. It’s a deeply emotional and deeply clever moment, one where knowledge becomes authentication. Penelope didn’t need to see his face—she needed to see if he remembered them, their history, and what they built together. In this scene, Odysseus proves that his greatest bond wasn’t forged on a battlefield, but in a bedroom. And once again, intelligence becomes the language of love. No sword. No speech. Just memory—and design.
#1: Naming Himself “Nobody
Among all of Odysseus’ many tricks, the most elegantly simple and powerfully effective may be the name he gives to Polyphemus: “Nobody.” When the Cyclops bellows in pain after Odysseus blinds him, screaming that “Nobody has hurt me!”, his fellow monsters ignore him. They believe he’s delusional, leaving Odysseus and his men free to escape. This is brilliance at its purest—a single word that changes the outcome of an entire encounter. Odysseus doesn’t just trick the Cyclops physically—he tricks the entire social structure of the Cyclopes. He anticipates the response. He manipulates language, turning an identity into a shield. This act demonstrates the heart of what makes Odysseus the ultimate trickster: foresight, creativity, linguistic mastery, and timing. It’s not the force of the blow that defeats Polyphemus—it’s the power of the name. With this one lie, Odysseus became the most unforgettable “Nobody” in all of mythology.
Odysseus wasn’t the strongest, the fastest, or the most beloved of the Greek heroes—but he was the most cunning. Time and again, he proved that cleverness could bend the rules of gods and monsters, turn defeat into triumph, and make stories echo through the ages. Each of these tricks—whether born from desperation, loyalty, curiosity, or sheer genius—demonstrates why the King of Ithaca remains a timeless symbol of intellect over intimidation. His journey wasn’t just about getting home. It was about how he got there—and the brilliant mind that lit the path.
