“Everything Seems Strange” – Confusion Upon Returning Home

Odyssey 12.187-202

“….Then Odysseus woke
From sleeping in his ancestral land, but he did not recognize it
Because he had been long gone. For the goddess poured a mist on him
Pallas Athena, the daughter of Zeus, so she might make him
Unknown and advise him of each thing,
That his wife, citizens and friends might not know him
Before he paid back the suitors for their transgression.
This is why everything seemed foreign to their lord,
The lengthy paths, the harbors with safe-anchorage,
The steep cliffs and the flourishing trees.
He leapt and stood on his feet as he gazed upon his ancestral land,
Then he groaned and struck his two thighs
With open hands and spoke mournfully:

“Alas! To which mortals’ land have I come?
Are they arrogant and wild, unjust men,
Or are they hospitable folk with god-fearing minds?”

…. ὁ δ’ ἔγρετο δῖος ᾿Οδυσσεὺς
εὕδων ἐν γαίῃ πατρωΐῃ, οὐδέ μιν ἔγνω,
ἤδη δὴν ἀπεών· περὶ γὰρ θεὸς ἠέρα χεῦε
Παλλὰς ᾿Αθηναίη, κούρη Διός, ὄφρα μιν αὐτὸν
ἄγνωστον τεύξειεν ἕκαστά τε μυθήσαιτο,
μή μιν πρὶν ἄλοχος γνοίη ἀστοί τε φίλοι τε,
πρὶν πᾶσαν μνηστῆρας ὑπερβασίην ἀποτεῖσαι.
τοὔνεκ’ ἄρ’ ἀλλοειδέα φαινέσκετο πάντα ἄνακτι,
ἀτραπιτοί τε διηνεκέες λιμένες τε πάνορμοι
πέτραι τ’ ἠλίβατοι καὶ δένδρεα τηλεθάοντα.
στῆ δ’ ἄρ’ ἀναΐξας καί ῥ’ εἴσιδε πατρίδα γαῖαν,
ᾤμωξέν τ’ ἄρ’ ἔπειτα καὶ ὣ πεπλήγετο μηρὼ
χερσὶ καταπρηνέσσ’, ὀλοφυρόμενος δ’ ἔπος ηὔδα·
“ὤ μοι ἐγώ, τέων αὖτε βροτῶν ἐς γαῖαν ἱκάνω;
ἤ ῥ’ οἵ γ’ ὑβρισταί τε καὶ ἄγριοι οὐδὲ δίκαιοι,
ἦε φιλόξεινοι καί σφιν νόος ἐστὶ θεουδής;

 

maine coast
Not Ithaca. Maine.

 

When Odysseus awakes back on Ithaca he is confused—he does not recognize where he is and, after his many years of misdirection and wandering, he assumes he has been tricked and is in a foreign country.

The narrative seems to put the blame on the mist that Athena has put upon him, but this divine trick is directly explained as making Odysseus unknowable (as part of the revenge plot). The passage has caused a little confusion: Aristophanes of Byzantium, according to a scholion, wanted to change ὄφρα μιν αὐτόν to ὄφρα μιν αὐτῷ, thus making the pronoun μιν refer to Ithaca (i.e. “so that she might make Ithaca unknowable to him” rather than “so that she might make him unknowable.” (Schol. H ad Odysseam 13.190 ὄφρα μιν αὐτόν] ᾿Αριστοφάνης “αὐτῷ” γράφει καὶ τὸ “μιν” ἐπὶ τῆς ᾿Ιθάκης τίθησιν).

But I think the text with αὐτόν is much better. The point is that the land and the man are unknowable to each other because both have changed. Odysseus gazes at the landscape—man-made paths through wild-grown trees on the edge of the sea. In twenty years how much have the trees grown? Without people, buildings, or the like, would anyone recognize a place after twenty years of natural change?

Odysseus comes to trees again in book 24 when he reunites with his father. Between his waking panic and his full unveiling, the epic makes us think repeatedly about what a ‘home’ is and the many (positive and negative) things a homecoming entails. The movement from book 13 to 24 is both about Odysseus becoming known again to Ithaca and Ithaca revealing itself to him. The Greek connects the mutual lack of recognition: Odysseus does not recognize Ithaca (οὐδέ μιν ἔγνω) and he himself is unrecognizable (ἄγνωστον). And the language may strain a bit to get the correspondence—a Scholiast glosses “unrecognizable” as “invisible” (ἄγνωστον] ἀφανῆ. Scholia V ad Odysseam).

This scene comes to my mind each time I return home to Maine. I grew up in a rural area in the southern part of the state and spent the long summers of youth exploring the many acres of pine-forest that surrounded us. For a time, I could have found my way blind-folded for miles around. I knew the trees I climbed in; where there were old abandoned graveyards; the safe paths through a cranberry bog; the locations of birch stands and poplar trees.

But now, nearly twenty years later, it is unrecognizable to me. The shapes of the trees are new; the animal and human paths have shifted; old clearings are overgrown. But I also know that I am nearly unrecognizable too.

And why is this in my mind? This weekend I return to New England as part of a protracted return home, for good. I have lived outside of the Northeast for fifteen years, have suffered nothing near Odysseus’ trials (nor his glory) and will certainly have no epic battles to fight—but there’s no doubt that after so much time both place and person are different. May I encounter only hospitable and god-fearing folk!

Pleasing Odysseus: Sex and Sorrow in the Odyssey

Odyssey 6.151-159.

“Hermes found him sitting on a cliff. His eyes were never dry
Of tears and his sweet life drained away as he mourned.
Over his homecoming, since the goddess was no longer pleasing to him.
But it was true that he stretched out beside her at night by necessity
In her hollow caves, unwilling when she was more than willing.
Though he sat by day on the rocks and sands
Wracking his heart with tears, groans and grief,
Shedding tears as he gazed upon the barren sea.

τὸν δ’ ἄρ’ ἐπ’ ἀκτῆς εὗρε καθήμενον· οὐδέ ποτ’ ὄσσε
δακρυόφιν τέρσοντο, κατείβετο δὲ γλυκὺς αἰὼν
νόστον ὀδυρομένῳ, ἐπεὶ οὐκέτι ἥνδανε νύμφη.
ἀλλ’ ἦ τοι νύκτας μὲν ἰαύεσκεν καὶ ἀνάγκῃ
ἐν σπέεσι γλαφυροῖσι παρ’ οὐκ ἐθέλων ἐθελούσῃ·
ἤματα δ’ ἂμ πέτρῃσι καὶ ἠϊόνεσσι καθίζων
[δάκρυσι καὶ στοναχῇσι καὶ ἄλγεσι θυμὸν ἐρέχθων]
πόντον ἐπ’ ἀτρύγετον δερκέσκετο δάκρυα λείβων.

I have always read and taught the line emphasized above as indicating that Odysseus’ displeasure had not lasted seven years–that he took some pleasure in the events described in the following line (having sex with Kalypso) and that his sorrow over his homecoming had increased over time.

Ancient scholarship does not agree with this reading. Instead, it makes a strange distinction in marking Odysseus as having once been pleased by Kalypso:

Schol ad Od. 6.153

“She never was making good by sending him away—first he was pleased because she saved him, but after this, no longer. This ‘longer’ can indicate the following authoritatively: she was pleasing to him before when she plucked him up from the shipwreck, but no longer because she is restraining him.”

ἐπεὶ οὐκέτι ἥνδανε νύμφῃ] κατ’ οὐδὲν ἤρεσκεν ἀποπέμπειν ἔτι αὐτὸν, ἤτοι τὸ μὲν πρῶτον ὡς σώσασαν ἔστερξεν, τὸ δὲ μετὰ ταῦτα οὐκέτι. P.Q.V. δύναται δὲ κυρίως κεῖσθαι τὸ ἔτι, ἤρεσκε γὰρ αὐτῷ πρότερον ἀναλαβοῦσα αὐτὸν ἐκ τοῦ ναυαγίου, κατέχουσα δὲ οὐκέτι. P.Q.

 

The Lexicographer Hesychius reduces the meaning of this verb as well, though in reference more to the Iliad:

hêndanen: “it was pleasing to, it gratified” [from aresko]. So “it was pleasing to his thumos” [Il. 1.24] means “it was gratifying to his mind.”

*ἥνδανεν· ἤρεσκεν n, [ηὔξανεν] ὡς τὸ· ἥνδανε θυμῷ (Α 24)  ἤγουν ἤρεσκε τῇ ψυχῇ

The passage he refers to (Il. 1.24, ἀλλ’ οὐκ ᾿Ατρεΐδῃ ᾿Αγαμέμνονι ἥνδανε θυμῷ) might be a less than pleasing parallel, since this is where Agamemnon is shown to be displeased with Chryses’ supplication—which turns out rather poorly for the Achaeans

 

But the root of the verb ἁνδάνω is certainly related to the same root that gives us “pleasure”(hêdus) in Greek. From Chaintraine’s Dictionarie Etymologique:

Et. Aucun présent du même type hors du grec, mais le skr. a svádati, svádate “plaire, se plaire à” et le latin le factifif suadeo. Le tout appartient évidemment à la familie ἥδομαι.

The adjective ἥδυς and the verb ἥδομαι are also related to the noun ἡδονή–whence English hedonism and the more clinical anhedonia. The English derivative is easier to see from the Latin suadeo and Sanskrit su/vad: sweet!

The story, of course, doesn’t end there. After Kalypso promises to send him home, they retire into those aforementioned caves:

Od. 5.226-227

“Then, after going into the deepest recess of the hollow cave
They took pleasure in sex, staying next to one another.”

ἐλθόντες δ’ ἄρα τώ γε μυχῷ σπείους γλαφυροῖο
τερπέσθην φιλότητι, παρ’ ἀλλήλοισι μένοντες.

It is only fair to contrast this description with Odysseus’ other narrated lovemaking in the epic, when he reunites with Penelope (23.300-301):

“Thus then, after hey each had their pleasure from lovely sex,
They took pleasure in words, telling tales to one another.”

τὼ δ’ ἐπεὶ οὖν φιλότητος ἐταρπήτην ἐρατεινῆς,
τερπέσθην μύθοισι, πρὸς ἀλλήλους ἐνέποντες,

Note the similarity of line 5.227 and 23.201—they are structurally (and nearly syntactically) identical. But where Kalypso and Odysseus merely “are present near one another” (παρ’ ἀλλήλοισι μένοντες), Penelope and Odysseus tell each other their stories (πρὸς ἀλλήλους ἐνέποντες) and take pleasure in words (μύθοισι) not just in sex. And I have posted before about the importance of post-coital conversation in Homeric sex.

On Reading without Prior Convictions

Aristotle, Poetics 1461a31

“Whenever some word seems to mean something opposite to what it means, it is best to examine how many things this might mean in the place is used. For instance, “by which the bronze spear was held”—someone might figure the best way by considering in how many ways is it possible to be hindered. This approach is opposite to what Glaukon says, that some people accept a position illogically and then make arguments based on their prior convictions and then, should anything seem to contradict them, they find fault with the poet because he meant something opposite to what they thought. The matter of Ikarios is an instance of this. For people suppose that he was Lakonian, so it is strange that Telemachus does not meet him when he goes to Sparta. But perhaps it is instead as the Kephallenians claim. For they say that Odysseus married one of their people and that his name was Ikadios not Ikarios. That the issue comes from a mistake is probable. Generally, impossible details should be credited to poetic character, to fashioning a better tale, or to keeping with popular belief. Poetic license should make something plausible but impossible more acceptable than something implausible yet possible.”

δεῖ δὲ καὶ ὅταν ὄνομά τι ὑπεναντίωμά τι δοκῇ σημαίνειν, ἐπισκοπεῖν ποσαχῶς ἂν σημήνειε τοῦτο ἐν τῷ εἰρημένῳ, οἷον τῷ “τῇ ῥ’ ἔσχετο χάλκεον ἔγχος” τὸ ταύτῃ κωλυθῆναι ποσαχῶς ἐνδέχεται, ὡδὶ ἢ ὡδί, ὡς μάλιστ’ ἄν τις ὑπολάβοι· κατὰ τὴν καταντικρὺ ἢ ὡς Γλαύκων λέγει, ὅτι ἔνιοι ἀλόγως προϋπολαμβάνουσί τι καὶ αὐτοὶ καταψηφισάμενοι συλλογίζονται, καὶ ὡς εἰρηκότος ὅ τι δοκεῖ ἐπιτιμῶσιν, ἂν ὑπεναντίον ᾖ τῇ αὑτῶν οἰήσει. τοῦτο δὲ πέπονθε τὰ περὶ ᾿Ικάριον. οἴονται γὰρ αὐτὸν Λάκωνα εἶναι· ἄτοπον οὖν τὸ μὴ ἐντυχεῖν τὸν Τηλέμαχον αὐτῷ εἰς Λακεδαίμονα ἐλθόντα. τὸ δ’ ἴσως ἔχει ὥσπερ οἱ Κεφαλλῆνές φασι· παρ’ αὑτῶν γὰρ γῆμαι λέγουσι τὸν ᾿Οδυσσέα καὶ εἶναι ᾿Ικάδιον ἀλλ’ οὐκ ᾿Ικάριον· δι’ ἁμάρτημα δὲ τὸ πρόβλημα †εἰκός ἐστιν†. ὅλως δὲ τὸ ἀδύνατον μὲν πρὸς τὴν ποίησιν ἢ πρὸς τὸ βέλτιον ἢ πρὸς τὴν δόξαν δεῖ ἀνάγειν. πρός τε γὰρ τὴν ποίησιν αἱρετώτερον πιθανὸν ἀδύνατον ἢ ἀπίθανον καὶ δυνατόν·

 

 

Homeric Love Advice: After Sex, Tell a Story

Odyssey, 23.300-309

“After they had their fill of lovely sex,
they took pleasure in their stories, narrating for one another.
She told him everything she endured as a woman
watching the ruinous throng of suitors in their home,
slaughtering so many bulls and fat sheep,
and draining down so much wine.
And godly Odysseus told her all the grief he caused men
and how much he suffered himself in his efforts.
He told her everything. And she enjoyed hearing it—
sleep would not alight upon her brows before he told every bit.”

τὼ δ’ ἐπεὶ οὖν φιλότητος ἐταρπήτην ἐρατεινῆς,
τερπέσθην μύθοισι, πρὸς ἀλλήλους ἐνέποντες,
ἡ μὲν ὅσ’ ἐν μεγάροισιν ἀνέσχετο δῖα γυναικῶν
ἀνδρῶν μνηστήρων ἐσορῶσ’ ἀΐδηλον ὅμιλον,
οἳ ἕθεν εἵνεκα πολλά, βόας καὶ ἴφια μῆλα,
ἔσφαζον, πολλὸς δὲ πίθων ἠφύσσετο οἶνος·
αὐτὰρ διογενὴς ᾿Οδυσεύς, ὅσα κήδε’ ἔθηκεν
ἀνθρώποισ’ ὅσα τ’ αὐτὸς ὀϊζύσας ἐμόγησε,
πάντ’ ἔλεγ’· ἡ δ’ ἄρα τέρπετ’ ἀκούουσ’, οὐδέ οἱ ὕπνος
πῖπτεν ἐπὶ βλεφάροισι πάρος καταλέξαι ἅπαντα.

There’s not much sex in Homer–epic does not deny the existence of the act–or its power–but it is chaste in describing it. And when it does, the situation is usually a bit, well, awkward. In the Iliad, Aphrodite rescues Paris from a duel with Menelaos and inserts him in his bedchamber.  She tells Helen to go ‘comfort’ him and when Helen balks, Aphrodite threatens. Helen insults Paris a bit, and he responds rather weakly (Il. 3.437-447):

“Paris then answered her with this speech:
“Don’t criticize me with such harsh words, wife.
For now, Menelaos would have overcome me with Athena’s help
Or I would have killed him. Gods support both of us.
Come on, let’s lay down in bad and have sex.
For desire has not ever so clouded my thoughts
Not even when I first took you from beautiful Lakedaimon
And sailed in the sea-going vessels
And I stopped to linger in sex and sleep on the island Kranaes.
This is how much I want you now as this sweet longing takes me.”
That’s what he said as he led her to the bed. His spouse followed.

Τὴν δὲ Πάρις μύθοισιν ἀμειβόμενος προσέειπε·
μή με γύναι χαλεποῖσιν ὀνείδεσι θυμὸν ἔνιπτε·
νῦν μὲν γὰρ Μενέλαος ἐνίκησεν σὺν ᾿Αθήνῃ,
κεῖνον δ’ αὖτις ἐγώ· πάρα γὰρ θεοί εἰσι καὶ ἡμῖν.
ἀλλ’ ἄγε δὴ φιλότητι τραπείομεν εὐνηθέντε·
οὐ γάρ πώ ποτέ μ’ ὧδέ γ’ ἔρως φρένας ἀμφεκάλυψεν,
οὐδ’ ὅτε σε πρῶτον Λακεδαίμονος ἐξ ἐρατεινῆς
ἔπλεον ἁρπάξας ἐν ποντοπόροισι νέεσσι,
νήσῳ δ’ ἐν Κραναῇ ἐμίγην φιλότητι καὶ εὐνῇ,
ὥς σεο νῦν ἔραμαι καί με γλυκὺς ἵμερος αἱρεῖ.
῏Η ῥα, καὶ ἄρχε λέχος δὲ κιών· ἅμα δ’ εἵπετ’ ἄκοιτις.

The scene is not much better in the Iliad’s most famous instance of lovemaking. Hera spends most of book 14 preparing to seduce Zeus so that she can thwart his plans in helping the Trojans. She arrives, with a promise of help from the god Sleep and special cosmetics borrowed from Aphrodite, and Zeus’ response is immediate (14 312-328):

Continue reading “Homeric Love Advice: After Sex, Tell a Story”

How Homer is Like a Setting Sun (Longinus on the Odyssey)

From (Ps.) Longinus On the Sublime, 9.11-13

“Nevertheless, all through the Odyssey, which must be examined for many reasons, Homer reveals that as great inspiration fades away, storytelling becomes the dominant attribute of old age. For it is clear in many ways that this epic was composed second. Throughout the Odyssey we find episodes modeled on scenes from the Iliad, and, by Zeus, he apportions his heroes grief and misery as if these tales were long already known. The Odyssey is nothing other than an epilogue to the Iliad:

There lies fierce Ajax; here lies Achilles
There likes Patroklos, an advisor equal to the gods,
There lies my own dear son. (Od. 3.109-111)

The cause of this fact, I imagine, is that when the Iliad was being written at the peak of his strength, Homer imbued the whole work with dramatic power and action; when he was composing the Odyssey, however, he made it more of a narrative, as appropriate for old age. For this reason, you can compare the Odyssey’s Homer to a setting sun: the magnitude remains without its power.  Since, in it, he no longer preserves the same power of the Iliad, that overwhelming consistency which never ebbs, nor the same rush of changing experiences, the variety and reality of it, packed full with things from true experience. It is as if the Ocean were to withdraw into itself, quietly watching its own measure. What remains for us is the retreating tide of Homer’s genius, his wandering in storytelling and unbelievable things. When I claim this, I am not forgetting the storms in the Odyssey and the events placed near the Kyklopes and elsewhere—I am indicating old age, but it is still Homer’s old age. And, yet, the mythical overpowers in every one of these scenes.”

 

δείκνυσι δ’ ὅμως διὰ τῆς ᾿Οδυσσείας (καὶ γὰρ ταῦτα πολλῶν ἕνεκα προσεπιθεωρητέον), ὅτι μεγάλης φύσεως ὑποφερομένης ἤδη ἴδιόν ἐστιν ἐν γήρᾳ τὸ φιλόμυθον. δῆλος γὰρ ἐκ πολλῶν τε ἄλλων συντεθεικὼς ταύτην δευτέραν τὴν ὑπόθεσιν, ἀτὰρ δὴ κἀκ τοῦ λείψανα τῶν ᾿Ιλιακῶν παθημάτων διὰ τῆς ᾿Οδυσσείας

ὡς ἐπεισόδιά τινα [τοῦ Τρωικοῦ πολέμου] προσεπεισφέρειν, καὶ νὴ Δί’ ἐκ τοῦ τὰς ὀλοφύρσεις καὶ τοὺς οἴκτους ὡς πάλαι που  προεγνωσμένοις τοῖς ἥρωσιν ἐνταῦθα προσαποδιδόναι. οὐ γὰρ ἀλλ’ ἢ τῆς ᾿Ιλιάδος ἐπίλογός ἐστιν ἡ ᾿Οδύσσεια·

ἔνθα μὲν Αἴας κεῖται ἀρήιος, ἔνθα δ’ ᾿Αχιλλεύς,
ἔνθα δὲ Πάτροκλος, θεόφιν μήστωρ ἀτάλαντος·
ἔνθα δ’ ἐμὸς φίλος υἱός.

ἀπὸ δὲ τῆς αὐτῆς αἰτίας, οἶμαι, τῆς μὲν ᾿Ιλιάδος γραφομένης ἐν ἀκμῇ πνεύματος ὅλον τὸ σωμάτιον δραματικὸν ὑπεστήσατο καὶ ἐναγώνιον, τῆς δὲ ᾿Οδυσσείας τὸ πλέον διηγηματικόν, ὅπερ ἴδιον γήρως. ὅθεν ἐν τῇ ᾿Οδυσσείᾳ παρεικάσαι τις ἂν καταδυομένῳ τὸν ῞Ομηρον ἡλίῳ, οὗ δίχα τῆς σφοδρότητος παραμένει τὸ μέγεθος. οὐ γὰρ ἔτι τοῖς ᾿Ιλιακοῖς ἐκείνοις ποιήμασιν ἴσον ἐνταῦθα σῴζει τὸν τόνον, οὐδ’ ἐξωμαλισμένα τὰ ὕψη καὶ ἱζήματα μηδαμοῦ λαμβάνοντα, οὐδὲ τὴν πρόχυσιν ὁμοίαν τῶν ἐπαλλήλων παθῶν, οὐδὲ τὸ ἀγχίστροφον καὶ πολιτικὸν καὶ ταῖς ἐκ τῆς

ἀληθείας φαντασίαις καταπεπυκνωμένον· ἀλλ’ οἷον ὑποχωροῦντος εἰς ἑαυτὸν᾿Ωκεανοῦ καὶ περὶ τὰ ἴδια μέτρα †ἐρημουμένου τὸ λοιπὸν φαίνονται τοῦ μεγέθους ἀμπώτιδες κἀν τοῖς μυθώδεσι καὶ ἀπίστοις πλάνος. λέγων δὲ ταῦτ’ οὐκ ἐπιλέλησμαι τῶν ἐν τῇ ᾿Οδυσσείᾳ χειμώνων καὶ τῶν περὶ τὸν Κύκλωπα καί τινων ἄλλων, ἀλλὰ γῆρας διηγοῦμαι, γῆρας δ’ ὅμως ῾Ομήρου· πλὴν ἐν ἅπασι τούτοις ἑξῆς τοῦ πρακτικοῦ κρατεῖ τὸ μυθικόν.

 

 

Useless Literary Studies: Or, How Seneca Trashes My Life

Seneca, De Brevitate Vitae 13

 

“It would be annoying to list all the people who spent their lives pursuing board games, ball games, or sunbathing. Men whose pleasures are so busy are not at leisure. For example, no one will be surprised that those occupied by useless literary studies work strenuously—and there is great band of these in Rome now too. This sickness used to just afflict the Greeks, to discover the number of oars Odysseus possessed, whether the Iliad was written before the Odyssey, whether the poems belong to the same author, and other matters like this which, if you keep them to yourself, cannot please your private mind; but if you publish them, you seem less learned than annoying.”

 

Persequi singulos longum est, quorum aut latrunculi aut pila aut excoquendi in sole corporis cura consumpsere vitam. Non sunt otiosi, quorum voluptates multum negotii habent. Nam de illis nemo dubitabit, quin operose nihil agant, qui litterarum inutilium studiis detinentur, quae iam apud Romanos quoque magna manus est. Graecorum iste morbus fuit quaerere, quem numerum Ulixes remigum habuisset, prior scripta esset Ilias an Odyssia, praeterea an eiusdem essent auctoris, alia deinceps huius notae, quae sive contineas, nihil tacitam conscientiam iuvant sive proferas, non doctior videaris sed molestior.

Where Does the Odyssey End (and Why?) Aristarchus, Aristotle and Eustathius

Odyssey, 23. 293-296

τοῖσιν δ’ Εὐρυνόμη θαλαμηπόλος ἡγεμόνευεν
ἐρχομένοισι λέχοσδε δάος μετὰ χερσὶν ἔχουσα·
ἐς θάλαμον δ’ ἀγαγοῦσα πάλιν κίεν. οἱ μὲν ἔπειτα
ἀσπάσιοι λέκτροιο παλαιοῦ θεσμὸν ἵκοντο·

“Then Eurynomê the bed-maid led them
As they went to bed, holding a torch in her hands.
She left again once she led them into the bed chamber;
Then they happily entered the rite of the ancient bed.”

 

Comments from the Scholia:

ἀσπάσιοι λέκτροιο] “They happily and enthusiastically remembered the ancient practice of intercourse”

Aristophanes and Aristarchus believed that this was the end (peras) of the Odyssey

Aristophanes and Aristarchus claim this as the end (telos) of the Odyssey

 

ἀσπάσιοι λέκτροιο] ἀσπαστῶς καὶ ἐπιθυμητικῶς ὑπεμνήσθησαν τοῦ πάλαι τῆς συνουσίας νόμου.

M.V. Vind. 133: ᾿Αριστοφάνης δὲ καὶ ᾿Αρίσταρχος πέρας τῆς ᾿Οδυσσείας τοῦτο ποιοῦνται.

H.M.Q.: τοῦτο τέλος τῆς ᾿Οδυσσείας φησὶν ᾿Αρίσταρχος καὶ ᾿Αριστοφάνης.

 

Erbse (1972,166-177) argues that the Alexandrian scholars really meant that the natural ‘end’ of the story in an Aristotelian sense was the reunion of husband and wife. And, yet, Aristotle seems to have a different ‘end’ in mind for the epic:

Aristotle, Poetics 1455b17-24 

“In drama, the episodes are brief; while epic uses episodes for expansion.  The story of the Odyssey really is not long: a man is away from home for many years because he is detained by Poseidon and he is alone. While this is going on, at home his possessions are being wasted by suitors and there is a plot against his son. But when he returns, storm-tossed, once he reveals himself, he attacks them, saves himself and destroys his enemies. That’s the core of the tale; different episodes comprise the rest of it”

ἐν μὲν οὖν τοῖς δράμασιν τὰ ἐπεισόδια σύντομα, ἡ δ’ ἐποποιία τούτοις μηκύνεται. τῆς γὰρ ᾿Οδυσσείας οὐ μακρὸς ὁ λόγος ἐστίν· ἀποδημοῦντός τινος ἔτη πολλὰ καὶ παραφυλαττομένου ὑπὸ τοῦ Ποσειδῶνος καὶ μόνου ὄντος, ἔτι δὲ τῶν οἴκοι οὕτως ἐχόντων ὥστε τὰ χρήματα ὑπὸ μνηστήρων ἀναλίσκεσθαι καὶ τὸν υἱὸν ἐπιβουλεύεσθαι, αὐτὸς δὲ ἀφικνεῖται χειμασθείς, καὶ ἀναγνωρίσας τινὰς ἐπιθέμενος αὐτὸς μὲν ἐσώθη τοὺς δ’ ἐχθροὺς διέφθειρε. τὸ μὲν οὖν ἴδιον τοῦτο, τὰ δ’ ἄλλα ἐπεισόδια. 

 

Eustathius takes issue with the scholiasts’ choice:

Eustathius, Commentary on the Odyssey, II.308

“We should note that according to the very old accounts, Aristarchus and Aristophanes, the best of the ancient commentators, made this line (23.296) the end of the Odyssey, because they were suspicious of what remained to the end of the book. But these scholars are cutting off many critical things, which they claim to oppose, for example the immediately following rhetorical recapitulation of that has happened and then, in a way, a summary of the whole Odyssey and then, in the next book, the recognition scene between Odysseus and Laertes, and the many marvelous things that happen there.”

᾿Ιστέον δὲ ὅτι κατὰ τὴν τῶν παλαιῶν ἱστορίαν ᾿Αρίσταρχος καὶ᾿Αριστοφάνης, οἱ κορυφαῖοι τῶν τότε γραμματικῶν, εἰς τὸ, ὡς ἐῤῥέθη, ἀσπάσιοι λέκτροιο παλαιοῦ θεσμὸν ἵκοντο, περατοῦσι τὴν ᾿Οδύσσειαν, τὰ ἐφεξῆς ἕως τέλους τοῦ βιβλίου νοθεύοντες. οἱ δὲ τοιοῦτοι πολλὰ τῶν καιριωτάτων περικόπτουσιν, ὥς φασιν οἱ αὐτοῖς ἀντιπίπτοντες, οἷον τὴν εὐθὺς ἐφεξῆς τῶν φθασάντων ῥητορικὴνἀνακεφαλαίωσιν καὶ τὴν τῆς ὅλης ὡς εἰπεῖν ᾿Οδυσσείας ἐπιτομὴν, εἶτα καὶ τὸν ὕστερον ἀναγνωρισμὸν ᾿Οδυσσέως τὸν πρὸς τὸν Λαέρτην καὶ τὰ ἐκεῖ θαυμασίως πλαττόμενα καὶ ἄλλα οὐκ ὀλίγα.

 

But there’s a good deal missing from Eustathius’ ‘summary’ of book 24:

1-202: Second Underworld scene: Suitors’ ghosts descend to Hades; Achilles and Agamemnon have a conversation; Amphimedon recaps the action

202-411: Reunion of Odysseus and Laertes: Odysseus tests his father, then relents; they return to his home and dine

412-471: The Trial of Odysseus: The families of the slain gather their dead; assemble; split over whether to face Odysseus; prepare for war

472-488: Divine Council: Athena and Zeus discuss how to end the conflict

489-545: The End: Families approach; Odysseus and his household arm; they kill one man (Eupeithes); Athena intervenes

 

Why Does Odysseus Cry over His Dog but Not His Wife?

Plutarch, De Tranquilitate 475a

 

“The poet illustrates well how powerful the unexpected can be. For Odysseus wept when his dog was fawning on him, but he showed no emotion at all when he sat next to his weeping wife. In the second scene, he arrived with his emotions in hand and managed by reason, but in the earlier he encountered something surprising, all of a sudden, without expecting it.”

 

εὖ δὲ καὶ ὁ ποιητὴς οἷόν ἐστι τὸ παρὰ προσδοκίαν ἐδίδαξεν· ὁ γὰρ ᾿Οδυσσεὺς τοῦ μὲν κυνὸς σαίνοντος ἐξεδάκρυσε (ρ 302. 304), τῇ δὲ γυναικὶ κλαιούσῃ παρακαθήμενος οὐδὲν ἔπαθε τοιοῦτον (τ 211)· ἐνταῦθα μὲν γὰρ ἀφῖκτο τῷ λογισμῷ τὸ πάθος ὑποχείριον ἔχων καὶ προκατειλημμένον, εἰς δ’ ἐκεῖνον μὴ προσδοκήσας ἀλλ’ ἐξαίφνης *** διὰ τὸ παράδοξον ἐνέπεσε.

 

Here’s the  moment in question:
Hom. Odyssey 17.300-305

“There lay the dog, Argos, covered with pests.
But then, where he recognized that Odysseus was coming near,
He wagged his tail and flattened both ears,
But he could no longer rise to meet his master.
Then Odysseus looked sideways and wiped away a tear,
Easily escaping Eumaios’ notice; then he questioned him.”

ἔνθα κύων κεῖτ’ ῎Αργος ἐνίπλειος κυνοραιστέων.
δὴ τότε γ’, ὡς ἐνόησεν ᾿Οδυσσέα ἐγγὺς ἐόντα,
οὐρῇ μέν ῥ’ ὅ γ’ ἔσηνε καὶ οὔατα κάββαλεν ἄμφω,
ἄσσον δ’ οὐκέτ’ ἔπειτα δυνήσατο οἷο ἄνακτος
ἐλθέμεν· αὐτὰρ ὁ νόσφιν ἰδὼν ἀπομόρξατο δάκρυ,
ῥεῖα λαθὼν Εὔμαιον, ἄφαρ δ’ ἐρεείνετο μύθῳ·

Go here for the full scene (the tale of Argos’ youth and his sudden death…)

The ‘Trial’ Of Odysseus: The Ithacan Assembly in Odyssey 24

Aristophanes of Byzantium  and Aristarchus (according to the scholia) believed that the Odyssey should end at 23.296, once the happy couple have retired to their bed-chamber. But, of course, the epic does not end. Book 24 treats us to a second trip to the Underworld (where the suitors talk to Agamemnon), a final battle and dea ex machina and, in the middle, a public debate over what to do about Odysseus.

Even a less than generous reading would concede some points to all parties…

“In this way, they busied themselves with dinner in their halls.
But rumor went as a swift messenger everywhere through the city
singing of the hateful death and fate of the suitors.
And as each person heard this they traveled from different places
with weeping and lamentation up to Odysseus’ home
where they carried out the corpses and buried them,
while some from other cities they sent to their own homes
once they placed them to be carried on swift fishing boats.
Then, pained in their hearts, they gathered together in the assembly.
When they had collected there and were assembled,
Eupeithes stood among them and spoke.
Unforgettable grief sat in his thoughts over Antinoos
Who was the first man shining Odysseus killed.
Shedding tears for him, he addressed them and spoke:

Continue reading “The ‘Trial’ Of Odysseus: The Ithacan Assembly in Odyssey 24”

Homer, Odyssey 22. 11-14

[Today the Almeida Theater in the UK is presenting a live reading of the Odyssey. Duly inspired, we are re-posting some of our favorite Odyssey themed posts]

“Murder wasn’t on his mind at all.
Who would think that one man alone among many dinner guests
Even a really strong one, could contrive a wicked death
And dark fate?”

 

… φόνος δέ οἱ οὐκ ἐνὶ θυμῷ

μέμβλετο. τίς κ’ οἴοιτο μετ’ ἀνδράσι δαιτυμόνεσσι

μοῦνον ἐνὶ πλεόνεσσι, καὶ εἰ μάλα καρτερὸς εἴη,

οἷ τεύξειν θάνατόν τε κακὸν καὶ κῆρα μέλαιναν;