A Guide to the Odyssey: A Commentary on the English Translation of Robert Fitzgerald

by Ralph J. Hexter;Robert Fitzgerald

  336 a diviner: Not named here, but it is Melampous (as confirmed by XV.279–318). It is hard to piece together all the details of the story from the two Homeric passages, suggesting that the myth was well known to Homer’s audience. From later fragments and allusions it appears that Iphiklos rewarded Melampous with the herd for what seemed to be the seer’s prophetic powers. In fact, Melampous understood the speech of animals (a common folktale motif) and learned from them what was concealed from other humans.

  360–61 If we take these dimensions literally, this would mean they were about fifty-four feet tall and thirteen and a half feet across at the shoulders. And this at only nine years of age! They were expected to get bigger (“As giants grown,” 367).

  368–69 the bright son of Zeus / by Lêto: Apollo.

  372–86 As Odysseus and Homer conclude this section, the names form clusters and the entries become briefer. Also, these last six names are of women who betrayed either a husband or a father. The women mentioned previously were perfect only in beauty and heritage; this section provides legends of unambiguously bad women. Perhaps it is out of consideration of this as much as the passage of time that Odysseus, mindful of Arête in his audience, decides to cut his narrative short (381–82).

  384–86 Odysseus concludes with a diplomatic reminder that what he really wants is the promised trip home.

  394 He is my guest: Odysseus is Arêtê’s guest in particular because he made his first appeal to her (VII. 151-64) and because he is a guest of the household of which she is the lady.

  398–99 eldest / of all Phaiákians: As eldest, Ekhenêos had also spoken first at VII. 171–79 (see VII. 166–68 and 204, above, on the value placed on age).

  414–20 Odysseus’ response is in part simply the language of the court, and all who know the rules of such discourse understand that it is not meant literally—we can be quite sure Odysseus would not look on a year’s delay with equanimity, much less pleasure—but is understood to mean “you are powerful and I appreciate your kind disposition toward me.” The consideration of the gifts and their value sounds calculating to us, but it would not have been deemed at all crass. A guest was expected to receive gifts graciously. To pretend unworthiness was not part of the code and would have insulted the offering host. Odysseus can even say (as he does in 417) that he “could wish” a large quantity of gifts, since it is understood that he is prepared to reciprocate on the same scale. Odysseus’ reasoning in lines 417–20 would have won agreement all around: wealth bespeaks power. But the tactic Odysseus will have to choose upon his return to Ithaka is very different from the return envisioned here—an irony to be appreciated at this point by Homer’s audience alone.

  429 a man who knows the world: Epistamenôs [368] should rather be taken as “skillfully,” “knowing the ways of poetry.” The exact sequence of thought behind the part of Alkínoös’ speech leading up to this point (422–28) is hard to pin down. There seems to be some sort of frame-breaking humor in line 429: the poem’s real audience may well smile at this doddering character who’s saying to Odysseus, “Wow, you told that story just like a good poet,” since they can see that Odysseus is but a mask for Homer. (Likewise da Ponte’s Countess exclaims to Cherubino in Act II of Mozart’s Marriage of Figaro, after “he” has sung a song to her, “what a lovely voice;” of course: the singer portraying Cherubino is an opera star.) There may well be comparable humor behind the assertions of Odysseus’ credibility (422–27), given his own reputation for trickery, even lying. (Behind “many,” 424, is a poly-compound [365] another hapax; also consider the many poly-epithets for Odysseus, starting at I.2, above.)

  436–37 We might imagine that the generations of bards from whom Homer descended would have wished for such listeners, such patrons who would want them to sing all night.

  443–48 Other and sadder …: Alkínoös had specifically asked to hear of those who “met their doom at Troy” (432). Akhilleus and Aîas, of whom Odysseus will speak shortly, fall into that category. However, as is appropriate for the theme of The Odyssey and as a mark of Odysseus’ awareness of the perils still facing him, Homer has Odysseus widen the scope, reminding Alkínoös and all the Phaiákians of those “other and sadder / Tales” of those who returned safe from Troy “only to find a brutal death at home—/ and a bad wife behind it.”

  467–69 or you were cattle-raiding …: Note again the expectation that even great kings and commanders would engage in raids for goods and slaves, as Odysseus himself had done in the land of the Kikonês at the beginning of his voyage homeward (IX.46–73). Odysseus imagines as the most likely causes of Agamémnon’s death two things he has experienced on his travels so far: storms at sea and armed resistance of natives.

  476–504 Agamémnon’s narrative of his murder at the hands of Aigísthos and the treachery of Klytaimnéstra is obviously the climactic moment of the Agamémnon-Orestês theme in The Odyssey.

  492–94 On the difficulties of interpretation involved in these lines, see Fitzgerald’s notes (pp. 472–74 of The Odyssey).

  500–501 my children and my slaves / at least: It seems Agamémnon had imagined that his wife might have had some cause to be angry when he returned, considering that he was bringing Kassandra home from Troy as his concubine and—if the story was as old as The Odyssey—that he had sacrificed their own daughter Iphianassa (Iphigenia) before going to war. He had in any event not anticipated a murder plot.

  501–4 But that woman … defiled herself / and all her sex: We note that Aigísthos’ vile act does not in Agamémnon’s perspective defile all men, for Agamémnon is himself a man—a typical gender bias.

  506–12 Odysseus’ response is diplomatic; he is of course moved by the horror of Agamémnon’s fate, but he doesn’t concur with Agamémnon’s wholesale condemnation of women. Of course he does take precautions when he arrives home. This is hardly the time for a debate, but in lines 507–8, with overt piety, he suggests that Agamémnon’s house carried this curse for some time. Indeed, the family had a penchant for both adultery and foul murder.

  515–17 Agamémnon describes a relationship that is very far from the homophrosunê—“like-mindedness”—which Odysseus and Penélopê share (see VI. 194–99, above). Indeed, Agamémnon seems to except Penélopê from his condemnation of women (533–35). The lies and half truths that Odysseus and Penélopê tell each other in Books XVIII-XXIII are not of the type Agamémnon advises here, for they are only temporary expedients used until the danger represented by the suitors can be removed and their full partnership reestablished. In a sense, that they both engage in cunning and calculation shows how deeply their like-mindedness runs.

  530, 536–40 my own son: Orestês’ name is postponed so that it can be the very last word Agamémnon speaks (540 [461]), although everyone would have known exactly who is meant already in 530. The audience of The Odyssey and indeed some of the epic’s characters (e.g., Telémakhos) know of Orestês’ vengeance, but neither Agamémnon nor Odysseus could have any inkling of this at the moment represented here, since at that time it had not yet occurred.

  553 Unless we are to imagine a breakdown of the “rules of the game” (see XI. 101ff., above), we must assume that Homer simply chose to omit describing the moment at which Akhilleus and shortly Aîas are permitted to drink the blood.

  569–81 This is the central interchange and the climax of the encounter between the hero of The Iliad and the hero of The Odyssey. By his remarks and questions (569–74) Odysseus becomes spokesman of the world of The Iliad and of Akhilleus’ famous choice in that poem (Iliad IX.410–16): glory [kleos] even at the cost of one’s life. In response, Akhilleus, who now has another perspective, is made spokesman for the worldview of The Odyssey: what counts is life, surviving at any cost, and even becoming a different man in the process (577–81). This is of course what Odysseus excels at, so that here, the poet has arranged to have Akhilleus, “best of the Akhaians” and hero of The Iliad, implicitly take second place to Odysseus.

  582ff. Akhil
leus’ concerns are for his son Neoptólemos and his father, Peleus.

  620 the lad: Eurýpulos (also “him” in 621). Line 619 refers to the tale in which Eurýpulos’ mother refused to let her son fight but was eventually persuaded otherwise by the gifts of her father, Priam.

  651 Trojan children: Trojan captives. Aristarchus disputed the authenticity of the fine. It is odd.

  671 The proud silence of Aîas was already famous in antiquity. The author of the first-century C.E. treatise On the Sublime writes, “Ajax’s silence in the Vision of the Dead is grand and indeed more sublime than any words could have been” (pseudo-Longinus, On the Sublime IX.2, D. A. Russell, trans., in D. A. Russell and M. Winterbottom, Ancient Literary Criticism [Oxford, 1972], 468).

  673–747a This passage, while ancient (Plato refers to it as Homeric, Gorgias 525E), is almost certainly an interpolation or later addition to The Odyssey. Clearly it is part of The Odyssey we have inherited, and we might do well to ask in what sense the word “interpolation” is used in the context of a poem that is the product of an ongoing process of accretion and development. The problem is that this segment simply does not jive with the underworld as Homer has consistently presented it so far. Until this moment and from line 747b on, Odysseus stands at the edge of the world of the Dead. The souls come to the trough he has dug and speak to him from that point. Suddenly, in the section in question, Odysseus is within the landscape of the underworld, viewing heroes and giants in tableaux, with significant objects in their hands, sometimes performing some action. These are not only souls. Particularly jarring is the fact that Odysseus here sees the dead undergoing punishment, which was not the case up to this point.

  For all these reasons, most scholars agree that this section is a later patch with a clearly different “take” on the underworld. It is also a classic case of the “purple patch,” a term that goes back to Horace’s Ars poetica, 15–16. While the diction is not impossibly un-Odysseyan, the section is just too densely packed and precious to be fit comfortably into The Odyssey. Each of the tableaux presented here is a little set piece and an opportunity to show off, which the poet cannot resist doing. Note in particular the description of Tántalos’ fruit tree at 704–8—in the Greek of 705–6 [589–90] there are two consecutive and parallel tricolon crescendos—and above all the ekphrasis (description of an object) of Heraklês’ belt at 726–31. (On the insertion of the passage into the preexistent text, see XI. 747, below. For a defense of the passage’s integrity, see Heubeck, HWH 2.110–11 and 114 [on XI.565–67, 568–627, and 601–27].)

  699 weasand: Throat.

  718–21 This is a rather obvious interpolation within the interpolation. Someone, realizing that there was a major problem with a text that put Heraklês in the underworld, since he was known to have been made immortal and taken up to Olympos, added these lines [602–4] to “solve” the problem: this is not really the dead Heraklês but a “phantom” [eidôlon] of him or of his soul. (This solves the problem somewhat in the way that the positing of epicycles made the Ptolemaic earth-centered astronomy fit newly observed phenomena.) It is a good reminder that for all the Hellenistic scholars who were eager to remove lines from Homer, there were others, earlier readers no doubt, who were prepared to add lines.

  734–45 The last of the figures in the interpolated passage speaks to Odysseus. Note that he, or rather his phantom, requires no drink of blood to recognize and address Odysseus.

  Heraklês performed heroic deeds, but from the Archaic period on he became increasingly admired in certain quarters for his fortitude, for simply having endured the labors assigned him, until later still he became the Stoic hero par excellence. In 734–37 the author of this passage suggests in no subtle way that Odysseus shares these qualities; to put this praise of Odysseus in Heraklês’ mouth (and in turn in Odysseus’ mouth) is particularly unsubtle—another mark of the crass inappropriateness of this section. In lines 741–45 Heraklês points out another parallel between the two heroes: while living they both made forays to the land of the dead, Heraklês to fetch Cerberus, Odysseus now.

  747 but I stood fast: We return to Homer uninterpolated. To get an idea of how the passage would work before the intervening lines were added, read 67l/672/747b/748:

  But he [Aîas] gave no reply, and turned away,

  following other ghosts toward Erebos.

  But I stood fast, awaiting

  other great souls who perished in times past.

  (It is also possible, though less likely, that lines 671–72 belong to the interpolation, in which case 746–47a would mark the end of the Aîas scene. Note that “Heraklês” in line 746 is not actually in the Greek, which simply says “he” [627].)

  BOOK XII

  Sea Perils and Defeat

  5 Mention of the sun (Êelios in Greek [4]) takes on a special significance at the beginning of this book, since Êelios will be provoked to enter the action all too soon (see 480ff).

  12–18 Odysseus and his men fulfill all the requests made of them by Elpênor’s restless spirit (XI.83–87).

  27 twice mortal: Literally, “twice dying,” since entering into the land of the dead is normally permitted only to those who have died. Even though the word is based on the premise that Odysseus and his men would enter the land of the dead once again, never more to take their leave, there is nothing ominous about it: the Greeks seem to have been less uncomfortable about the certainty of their mortality than we are.

  47 a god: Kirkê herself.

  48ff. Seirênês: Commonly “Sirens” in English. Fitzgerald is right to choose a more accurate transliteration, which both preserves more of the music and, simply by not being the all-too-familiar name, recovers some of the wonder and magic that must have accompanied their mere mention for the Greeks. Homer twice refers to two Seirênês [52 and 185; Fitzgerald uses “two Seirênês” only once, line 218] but more often uses forms which would normally be appropriate for three or more Seirênês. Their number is neither here nor there for Homer or for their significance. The idea of mermaids, attractive but fatal nuisances to sailors, is widespread; having them sing makes the attraction stronger.

  57–67 Steer wide …: The method that Kirkê proposes to keep Odysseus and his men from falling under the sway of the Seirênês—and it is the method Odysseus employs, with great success (190ff.)—is an interesting variation on the way Odysseus had managed in Book X to resist Kirkê’s own charms and rescue those of his comrades who had already succumbed. There Hermês had given him the charm to counter the effects of her potions; here it is Kirkê herself who gives the protective advice. There it was Odysseus’ men who underwent the transformation and had to be rescued, here it is Odysseus who alone hears the dangerous song, his men who as it were “rescue” him (although it is Odysseus, following Kirkê’s advice, who renders them capable of doing so by stuffing their ears with beeswax).

  68–71 One of two courses …: On some points, Kirkê provides only intelligence. Odysseus must choose the course which seems best to him based on that intelligence—whether to go past the “Prowling Rocks” (72–89) or between Skylla and Kharybdis (90–130). The second choice here involves a subordinate choice, whether to sail nearer to the whirlpool or to the monster. It is clear that by lines 132–34 Odysseus has decided not to risk the “Prowling Rocks,” and this is no surprise, given the dire terms in which Kirkê describes them.

  73 Amphitritê: The sea (so also 115).

  90ff. Skylla and Kharybdis were traditionally identified with the Strait of Messina, which divides Sicily from the Italian peninsula—Skylla on the mainland side, Kharybdis toward the island—but Homer gives no hints. We are still in the world of the fantastic. The “Prowling Rocks” (through which Jason steered the Argo) are usually located along the passage from the Aegean to the Black Sea.

  100 lugger: A ship with a lugsail; in other words, a rectangular sail.

  103–15 Skylla seems to display certain octopus-or squidlike elements but is fantastically elaborated and muc
h more frightening. Her name is connected with skullein, “to tear,” but there is a further etymology hidden behind “whelp’s” [skulakos, 86].

  109 six heads and 118 one for every gullet (the latter also 146): See 319, below.

  121 A great wild fig: The fig tree will play an important but perhaps unexpected role (see 552–64).

  122–25 Kharybdis might be etymologized “gaping swallower.” The latter element of her name (“-rybdis”) is echoed in “spews … up” (124) and “sucks … down” (125) [anaroibdei, 105, and rhoibdêseien,” 106, respectively].

  132–49 Odysseus’ question shows his concern to protect his men as much as possible, thrown into even greater relief by Kirkê’s response, which actually suggests that it is “the immortal gods” (138) who will be behind the loss of his comrades. The emphasis on Odysseus’ concern for his comrades, however belated, is particularly important in this book, which will see the loss and destruction of all the remaining men.

  150 Thrinákia: Traditionally identified as Sicily itself.