A Guide to the Odyssey: A Commentary on the English Translation of Robert Fitzgerald
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169–71 No, better not…: This is not only a sound idea but also one of the clearest resemblances to the Odysseus of The Iliad. In Book XIX Akhilleus finally returns to the main camp of the Greeks, though it has taken the death of his dear Patróklos to rouse him. Now raging and impatient, he wants to lead the Greeks at once against the Trojans, particularly Hektor, who slew Patróklos. Odysseus in two speeches (XIX. 155–83 and 216–37) manages to persuade the other Akhaian commanders (if not Akhilleus) that for the men to march out and fight on empty stomachs is likely to spell disaster. The allusion is all the cleverer, since the present context is so utterly unlike the situation in The Iliad. The themes of eating, of life as long as sustenance remains (see esp. Odyssey X. 192–95), and of feasting, both wise and foolish, are central to The Odyssey (see also I.13, above).
173 some god’s compassion: Although Odysseus had uttered comparable thoughts before (the nighttime landing on Goat Island, IX. 153), here (as with “some god,” 157), it has special significance, after the disastrous two first episodes in Book X and Aiolos’ specific description of Odysseus as being cursed by the gods.
192–93 Come, friends …: A nice joke on Homer’s part, appreciated by connoisseurs of The Odyssey. As Kirkê will instruct him, he will have to go to the House of Death (543), which he will report in Book XI. (See also Heubeck, HWH 2.54 [on DC. 174–77].)
208–11 Odysseus can hardly mean they don’t know where the sun rises—it just rose (205). But since Odysseus and his men have no idea where their present position is in relation to Ithaka, they don’t know which way to sail. What Odysseus says is true in general: they are completely and utterly lost.
212 any least thing to serve: In Greek, the word is again mêtis [193], some stratagem Odysseus can hatch.
223, 227 two platoons, with twenty-two companions: In addition to Odysseus, forty-five men remain: Eurýlokhos and two groups of twenty-two each. Odysseus must thus originally have had in his own ship fifty-eight companions, since thirteen have been killed (six by the Kikonês, six by Polyphêmos, one by the Laistrygonês). If the other eleven ships lost in the harbor in that last-named episode each had a captain and a crew of the same size, his total contingent would have numbered just over seven hundred. (Only in Books X-XII does Homer name any of Odysseus’ companions, and then only rarely; ultimately, we learn the names of four: Eurýlokhos here, Politês at 247, Elpênor at 610, and Perimêdês at XI.25.)
230ff. If we were to seek an analogue to Kirkê familiar from popular European fairy tales, it would be the witch in “Hansel and Gretel,” who, as it turns out, has bewitched many children who are only freed when she is defeated by the heroes of the tale. The Odyssey diverges from the popular version of the modern fairy tale in several important ways: as far as this detail is concerned, note that Odysseus has no moral interest in freeing any of Kirkê’s previous victims and wins the release of his comrades only (and by persuasion, not by destroying the “witch”). Indeed, simpleminded categories of “good witch” and “bad witch” will not do for Kirkê or any force in The Odyssey. She is a goddess (634). Contact with divinity is always fraught with risks, as well as possibility for great rewards. It’s also worth noting that Kirkê never works her magic on anyone who has not of his own free will put himself in her power (note that immediately below, 255ff., the wary Eurýlokhos is not compelled to enter her house).
260–61 to make them lose / desire or thought: This aspect of Kirkê is a variation on the theme first presented in the land of the Lotos Eaters (IX.91–109), a parallel underlined by Homer’s use of the verb “to forget” [lathoiato, 236] (see also IX. 104, above).
283–86 It is somewhat odd that, while Eurýlokhos witnessed the crew’s transformation into swine, he does not appear to report any of the specifics to Odysseus. (For other quibbles about the narrative economy of this episode, see 534, below.)
309–40 Odysseus no doubt gives special attention to the words spoken by the youthful helper he encounters in the forest (exactly when he realizes it is Hermês is uncertain), but in the Greek, Hermês’ words are not set off either by rhyme (avoided rather than sought in ancient Greek) or by any change of meter or line length. The youthful demeanor of Hermês in particular calls to mind the god’s memorable appearance to Priam in The Iliad (XXIV.347–8).
321 as amulet: One need only have the magic molü (see 343) on one’s person to be protected.
335 a pleasure you must not decline: While the double standard familiar to Homer’s audience permitted infidelity to the husband that it firmly denied to the wife, there is some indication that Homer wanted Odysseus to have a reputation for extraordinary fidelity and chastity: he alone of the Greek commanders takes no concubine (see I.488., above), and Hermês warns him that he dare not refuse to sleep with Kirkê. It is an essential part of what he must do to free his comrades. He is, of course, not loath to do so once he has extracted the requisite oath (note “flawless bed of love,” 390).
391–413 The pairing of gold and silver runs as a leitmotif throughout the description of the paraphernalia of Kirkê’s woodland retreat.
421–24 Given Kirkê’s knowledge elsewhere (e.g., 506–7, 543–50), she may very well know the reason for Odysseus’ downcast spirits.
456–64 A particularly homey simile, and another involving gender crossing (see also VIII.560–64). The pathos in this case is the greater, since the audience knows that none of these companions will ever see “the crags of Ithaka” (463) again.
476ff. Eurýlokhos’ hesitation, bordering on mutiny, is well drawn. He might have some ground to fear that Odysseus is himself now bewitched and may unwittingly be leading his remaining comrades to destruction.
484 foolishness: This is the same word [atasthaliêisin, 433] as the “recklessness” of I.12 (7; indeed the second half of both lines are identical in Greek). On the issue of responsibility, see I.10–12, above.
534 keep your promise: Odysseus has neglected to tell us of any moment when Kirkê made either an implicit or an explicit promise. We are, of course, free to imagine one, and Kirkê does not refuse Odysseus (although she refers to no promise). Homer’s organization of this episode is uncharacteristically negligent (see 123, 283–86, above, and 610–19, below).
543ff. A complete surprise. Kirkê has restored him and his men, and will let them go, but she has important instructions, which set Odysseus on a new course and set up the major content of Book XI. Although it is not explicit here, Kirkê’s language in 543–44 suggests that the gods require this trip of Odysseus. (See Proteus’ directive to Meneláos, IV.509–14, that he must return to Egypt and complete rites there before the gods will permit his homecoming in Sparta. The two episodes are parallel in many respects.) Odysseus certainly never doubts the authority of Kirkê’s injunction.
545 Perséphonê may be mentioned so often (550, 565, 591) because she inhabited the world of the living before becoming queen of Hades. She has, thus, a liminal nature—she is a sort of mediator between life and death. In the fully developed form of her story she lives on earth half the year and in the underworld the other half. This unique status plays a prominent role in some of the most important ancient mystery cults.
547 Teirêsias: He is the most famous of all soothsayers. Compare the seer’s outer blindness/inner vision with the blindness of the bard Demódokos (see VIII.70, above).
564ff. bourne of Ocean: See XI.15, below. Gilgamesh, too, reaches the land of the dead by sailing, in his case to the west (see Epic of Gilgamesh, Kovacs, trans., Tablet X, pp. 83–94).
573ff. Odysseus is not to travel through the land of the dead but to arrive there and summon the shades or souls with libations. Kirkê’s warning to turn away (585–86) recalls Leukothea’s warning (V.361–63, obeyed at V.483–86—see the note on V.359–63, above).
600–601 Again, the gold and silver combination seems to be the fashion on Aiaia (see 391–413, above).
619 But I was outside: Odysseus clearly did not know of Elpênor’s death at the time. I
n the next book Elpênor’s shade appears to Odysseus and tells him what took place (XI.54–90). This serves as a further link between Books X and XI.
Arguments “from silence,” i.e., from what is not mentioned or described, are generally suspect, but not always invalid: the conventions of Homeric epic are sufficiently consistent for us to confidently assume, as Homer’s first audience would have, that, had Odysseus known of Elpênor’s demise at the time, he would have undertaken to bury him with all the necessary rites. (The issue of the failure to bury Elpênor is prominent at XI.55–57 and 81–90.)
632 a black ewe and a ram: Kirkê supplies the animals for the sacrifice on the shores of Death that she herself had ordered (582–84).
BOOK XI
A Gathering of Shades
15 Ocean’s bourne: The “Ocean” was envisaged as a band of sea or river (“Ocean stream,” XI.23 and XII. 1), which encircled the known lands. It seems that one could have sailed across its width (usually an indeterminate distance, but in this case apparently requiring only a bit more than one day and one night’s sailing) to reach what is on the other shore: in some accounts the Isles of the Blessed, here, the land of the dead. However, this would contradict the standard view of the encircling Ocean, and it could be that Odysseus sailed from east to west along the southern oceanic circle (Heubeck, HWH 2.78 [on XI. 14–19].) This may be more logical, but ultimately, once we have entered a mythical landscape, logic has little to offer.
16 Men of Winter: One of the possible interpretations of Homer’s Kimmerioi, which some Greek scholars located in the Crimea, while others suggest “dwellers in darkness” or simply “a fabulous tribe living by the entrance to Hades.” Lines 17–21 certainly suggest a people living in the far north, though again not literally, since the description would not fit the upper latitudes during summer, when days are extraordinarily long (see X.93–97, above). As in the case of the Laistrygonês, the best answer may be that these people live in the land of night, the setting sun, i.e., the west.
26ff. the votive pit …: The digging of the trench and pouring of blood suggest offerings to the dead in the earth. Attracted by the blood, they swarm up into the pit as though they dwell beneath it. What the “souls” (psukhai) that appear to Odysseus are is not an easy question to answer. Homer doesn’t present any coherent theology of the afterlife. These are shadowy, visible, but untenable representatives of the dead, whose appearance resembles that of their former selves. After drinking the blood, they regain memory of their experiences while alive. Line 44 suggests they were imagined as being dressed just as they had been the moment they died.
54ff. Despite Kirkê’s admonition (X.592–94) that Odysseus keep all of the ghosts away from the blood, which would enable them to speak with him, until he has questioned Teirêsias, Odysseus addresses Elpênor and Elpênor replies. It appears contradictory, and Homer doesn’t tell us what allows this exception, not granted even Odysseus’ mother (XI.99). However, it probably can be explained by the fact that Elpênor has neither been cremated nor been buried (55) and thus does not need to drink blood before he can speak.
73–76 your wife: However indirect the source, these constitute the first details the Phaiákians learn of Odysseus’ immediate family.
79 … upon Aiaia Island: This is news to us and to Odysseus. Kirkê had implied a direct voyage home (X.596–97), although a second stop on Aiaia does not contradict what she said.
98 held her off: In other words, held her back from the blood. It emerges in lines 158–72 that Antikleía does not yet recognize her son and will do so only after she is permitted to sip the blood. (“Through pang on pang of tears” refers to Odysseus’ tears.)
100ff. Teirêsias is the single exception to the rules binding the souls of people whose remains have been cremated and ashes buried: he recognizes Odysseus and can speak, but he can “speak true” (107; see also 152) only if he can drink the blood. Again, this is not the doctrine of any sect but merely the “rules of the game.” They need make sense only for the purposes of the narrative.
105 joyless region: A grim understatement.
130ff. insolent men: This is the first that Odysseus will have heard of the suitors, and it is presented as a prophecy. Teirêsias’ speech (124–27) seems to imply that if Odysseus could have gone home directly from Thrinákia, that is, if his companions would have avoided violating Hêlios’ flocks, causing their destruction and Odysseus’ further delay (especially the seven years with Kalypso), Penélopê would not have been importuned by the suitors.
135–51 By means of this prophecy, Homer includes—or creates—a portion of the legendary life of Odysseus that falls beyond the time frame of The Odyssey.
139 oars that fledge light hulls for dipping flight: The image is one of oars rising and falling in rhythm like the wings of a bird.
148 seaborne: Many other scholars interpret “off the sea” [ex halos, 134] as meaning “not on the sea” rather than “from the sea.” The controversy is ancient.
192–227 Note that Odysseus’ multiple questions are taken up and answered by Antikleía precisely in reverse order, so that the exchange becomes another instance of ring composition (among numerous examples, see VII. 142–43 and IX.41–43, above, and XIX.62–63, below).
207–10 This would seem to fit the image of a Penélopê as yet unwooed and of a home as yet unmolested by the suitors (see 130ff., above). The only problem is a slight chronological embarrassment: Telémakhos should be only about fourteen or fifteen at this point, yet Antikleía’s words suggest a man older by several years at least. This apparent inconsistency clearly did not bother Homer. “The poet almost imperceptibly alters the time-scale quite substantially, allowing the hero to report conversations the content of which really only fits the period immediately before he lands in Phaeacia, in order to prepare the reader for the events of xiii-xxiv” (Heubeck, HWH 2.88 [on XI. 181–203]).
256ff. Perséphonê is described as staging the spectacle of souls who approach and speak to Odysseus. The “first act” of her pageant comprises famous women (through 386); after an intermission, during which the narrative returns to the Phaiákians and Odysseus, a “second act” follows, starring a number of the most prominent commanders at Troy (characters well known from The Iliad): Agamémnon, Akhilleus, and Aîas (449–674). Then comes an extended procession of selected other denizens of Hades (675–754; on some particular problems of this section, see 673–747a and following, below), concluding with a rapid departure from the land of the Dead (755–59).
258 consorts or daughters of illustrious men: The significance and status of these women is presented in terms of their relationship to male heads of households: technically, they are the wards of either their fathers or their husbands. (The phrase is important enough to return at the end of this section, in line 382.) However, in many of the stories about to be narrated, women play far more important roles, as do two who are prominent members of the audience of these tales: one, to whom Odysseus is currently narrating his adventures, Queen Arête in Phaiákia, and the other, Penélopê, prospectively (254–55). (To identify all the legendary women presented here, and the heroes who follow them, consult Who’s Who in The Odyssey, pp. 307–48.) It is obviously important that many of the women who appear are presented as having broken sexual codes restricting their behavior, often but not always with gods as their male lovers. Without presenting a moralizing framework for these “legends of good women” (the title of one of Chaucer’s poems, based in part on an even more overtly moralistic collection by Boccaccio), they serve as counterexamples to the perfect wife, Penélopê, and are in this way woven into the thematic fabric of The Odyssey.
294–95 Aison, Pherês, / and Amytháon, expert charioteer: A good example [as is the Greek, 259] of the tricolon crescendo (see III. 117–20, above). Some sort of formal device is often employed to round out a narrative segment; here it marks the end of the section on Tyro and her children.
308 and Megarê: Her name is parallel with Alkmê
nê (305), not Heraklês (306).
315–16 This is clearly not the complete version of the aftermath of the revelation of Oidipous’ patricide and incest as told by the Athenian dramatists in the fifth century. For this, see Aeschylus’ Seven Against Thebes and Sophokles’ Oidipous at Kolonos. However, any disagreement between the versions is more muted in the Greek: “all through his evil days” (Fitzgerald’s line 316) is an inference based on the imperfect tense of the Greek verb [276].
321 endless agony from a mother’s Furies: This is generally less prominent in the stories of Oidipous than in that of Orestês.
330 and Pêro, too: This is another child of Khloris. It is Khloris whom Odysseus saw, not Pêro. Although chronology is one of the first things neglected when legends from different cycles are brought together, it is likely that Pêro, sister of Nestor, was still thought to be alive at the time of the telling. (Fitzgerald’s “turned” in the past tense, 330, is an unintended consequence of his expansion of the Greek [287].)
It is an interesting variant on the catalog structure that at this point the greater part of the segment is devoted to a story about the daughter of the woman Odysseus saw, not about the woman herself. The entry ultimately focuses on and concludes with the story of a would-be suitor of that daughter. Many of the entries conclude with and thereby emphasize stories of the women’s sons.