What a shame, he thinks. He'd liked the notion of making oneself visible by publicly refusing to say who one is. Odysseus had called himself Nobody to escape from the Cyclops's cave. Who put out your eye, the other giants ask the blind Cyclops from outside. Nobody, the Cyclops bellows. Who's hurting you? Nobody! Odysseus, whose false name—one that cancels him out—the Cyclops keeps shrieking, clings to the belly of a ram and in this way slips out of the man-eating monster's cave undetected.

Jenny Erpenbeck, Go Went Gone
Meg Miller