493 Now this proposal won them: It is not that the other suitors are so pious. Rather, Amphínomos’ proposal has the advantage of permitting them to postpone action. They may continue to feast without having to commit themselves to act and risk the loss of their places at the trough.
496 Meanwhile Penélopê the wise: Homer gives no reason for Penélopê’s decision to appear at this juncture. We might imagine that having heard, first, that Telémakhos has returned and escaped one set of risks, and, immediately thereafter, that there is renewed plotting against his life, she might feel sufficiently emboldened and outraged to accuse the suitors to their faces. Unfortunately, from a strategic point of view, this is not a smart move: once accused openly, they have no reason to delay putting their plot into action and every reason to hasten it. Of course, it is Homer who decided that Penélopê would appear, and not merely because her doing so gives him an opportunity for a dramatic scene. More important, her appearance gives him the chance to present the other archvillain among the suitors, Eurýmakhos, in his characteristic role as sweet-talking dissembler. His tongue, ever ready to lie, will do him no good at XXII.47–94.
501 The faithful herald Medôn will be saved (XXII.401–24).
516–23 We learn now that, given Antínoös’ family history, his plotting demonstrates outrageous ingratitude. There is a strong family resemblance, so it sounds, between Antínoös and Antínoös’ father. We might wonder why Odysseus defended him.
528 Antínoös has no answer. Typically, it is Eurýmakhos who speaks.
538–42 Eurýmakhos can even enumerate the very reasons he ought to be eternally grateful to Odysseus and his house. He recites them and uses them in his carefully constructed rhetorical argument: no man who had received such benefits would wish to harm his benefactor or his benefactor’s family; I received such benefits from Odysseus; hence I cannot harbor such thoughts. We know, however, that it is a lie, and, in case we have any doubts, Homer takes care to remove them (546–48). Odysseus is a master rhetorician, as we have had many occasions to observe, but nowhere else in The Odyssey does Homer so clearly show us rhetoric’s capacity to be used for evil. Clearly, what counts is the character of the person behind the words: Eurýmakhos is a clever but thoroughly evil person. No wonder he can deliver such a speech.
544–45 Heaven / deals death no man avoids: Eurýmakhos also caps his speech with a pious bromide (see 245–51, above).
551 to weep for her dear lord, Odysseus: It is significant that Penélopê weeps for Odysseus, not Telémakhos, even though she has just voiced explicit concern for her son’s life. As we know, Odysseus is soon to reenter their house.
554–92 In this final scene of the book, Homer reunites Eumaios; Odysseus, quickly redisguised by Athena at the approach of the swineherd (558–63); and Telémakhos, now privy to his father’s counsels (see esp. 584–86). If Eumaios’ answer to Telémakhos’ question (of whether or not the suitors who sailed out to ambush Telémakhos have now returned to port, 567–69) is less than decisive (582–83), it is at least quite certain that Telémakhos’ return is known to one and all in Ithaka.
BOOK XVII
The Beggar at the Manor
11–29 Telémakhos is talking about Odysseus, but Eumaios doesn’t know that. Nonetheless, Telémakhos doesn’t bother to explain to Eumaios why he now suggests a different course of action than he had outlined earlier (XVI.81–105). The ready, enthusiastic assent (20–29) of the “beggar” heads off any reservations Eumaios might have or at least might voice to his young master. Lines 233–39 confirm that he does have reservations.
17 Plain truth is what I favor: In other words, “I prefer to speak the truth”—another proverbial cap to a speech (see XVI.245–51, above).
37 Eurýkleia, we recall, was of special assistance to Telémakhos as he prepared to depart on his secret journey to Pylos (II.370–403). She will prove indispensable to all three of the major figures—Telémakhos, Odysseus, and Penélopê—in this last third of the epic. She is the faithful servant within the house, as Eumaios is the faithful servant without.
41–43 The mention of Odysseus at this point makes us think of the differentiation of the maidservants to come and the punishment reserved for those, fortunately in the minority, who have gone bad. The “other maidservants” here presumably include none of the corrupted ones, unless, of course, they are dissembling.
46 “The choice of Artemis and Aphrodite together as a comparison for Penélopê is especially felicitous…. Penelope has been a chaste Artemis-figure during Odysseus’ twenty-year absence, but she is at the same time a desired sexual object or Aphrodite-figure every time she appears before the suitors” (Russo, HWH 3.21 [on XV1I.37]). At the close of Book XXIII she comes close to melding these two radically different views of women. The double comparison is repeated at XIX.66–67.
59–69 Although Telémakhos puts off giving even a summary report to his mother, line 64 must be a very clear indication to Penélopê that her son’s mood has changed and that something is likely to be afoot. Telémakhos leaves unstated the reasons vengeance is called for. Nonetheless, she carries out Telémakhos’ wishes to the letter (71–75).
65–69 I am now off…: These lines refer to Theoklýmenos, left in Peiraios’ care at the end of Book XV.
104–7 But if my hour comes: While he had only hinted at this indirectly to Penélopê (64), he speaks more openly to Peiraios.
134–36 Could you not / tell me … / what news: In Greek Penélopê adds, “if you have heard anything” [106]. This qualification, which may seem a meaningless end-of-line formula, in fact saves Telémakhos from actually lying in his speech, for he now knows much more than he heard from Nestor and Meneláos—having seen and talked to Odysseus—which he has no intention of revealing.
141 of the West: “Of the flocks” in the Greek [109] (see also XV.238, above).
157–82 Intolerable …: That Telémakhos relates large chunks of Meneláos’ speech word for word to Penélopê has of course more to do with Homeric poetic technique than any obsession with accuracy in quotation as we know it, based as it is on wide circulation of written texts. For the record, Telémakhos does quote Meneláos (XVII. 157–76 [124–41] = IV.358–76 [333–50] and XVII. 179–82 [143–46] (Proteus’ words to Meneláos as Meneláos reports them to Telémakhos) = IV.593–96 [557–60]).
183–86 As the note above indicates, much of what the audience has just heard it had heard before. Homer uses repetition as a foil against which to mark difference. We must remember that while Telémakhos tells no untruth here, he is of course not telling the whole truth (see also 136, above).
189–202 Theoklýmenos almost falls into the category of stranger who has news of Odysseus, the sort that Eumaios tried to convince the “Kretan” in Book XIV would be regarded with much skepticism in Penélopê’s house, so frequently had beggars with similar tales come along. The difference is this: Theoklýmenos claims not to have seen Odysseus but to know things as a seer and reader of portents. As thrilling as Theoklýmenos’ prophetic statement is, it presents a new and uncalculated risk: if word of this prophecy gets about, there is more chance the disguise of the “beggar” will be pierced. As carefully as gods and humans plot and as certain as the final outcome seems to be, Homer knows how to throw in new twists and raise at least the possibility of new complications—for example, of new plotting against Telémakhos by the suitors (XVI.449–93, above). And the audience will all along be wondering what role Theoklýmenos will play. The unforeseen possibility that the suitors might get at the weapons even after they have been removed from the hall is developed into a full-scale complication (XXII. 143–220).
190 He is most likely Meneláos, although there is a manuscript variant that would permit Telémakhos to be understood as the referent.
194–95 See XIV. 189–90, above.
200–202 Note that Theoklýmenos’ interpretation of the portent of XV.636–40 is much more specific here than it was at XV.642–46. Largely for this reason, th
e fines [160–61] were suspected as a later interpolation already by Alexandrian critics. It would, however, have been a very clumsy interpolator who created rather than smoothed an inconsistency, and there is no real reason to reject the lines. (Fitzgerald’s “at the ship” rather than “on the ship” [160] silently removes one inconsistency.)
218 Men: “Boys” or “noble youths,” really [kouroi, 174], not without possible sarcasm in Medôn’s mind. Medôn is an interesting character: he is well liked by the suitors, whom it is his business to please, but he has chosen to serve Penélopê (see also XVI.501) and what is right.
233–39 Compare 11–29, above. “A master’s tongue has a rough edge” (239) has a proverbial ring.
263 If the exact identities of these three remain uncertain, their relative place in the island’s history is clear: they are ancestral Ithakans, Ithakos the island’s eponymous hero, and the other two nearly as hoary. Nêritos’ name seems linked to Mt. Neriton, and the name Polýktor was carried by an Ithakan of more recent memory: the father of the suitor Peisándros (see XVIII.368–69, if, that is, Peisándros is Ithakan, as he seems to be).
267–68 an altar stone / to the cool nymphs: The altar dedicated to the nymphs may seem merely a decorative final touch to a picturesque setting, but see lines 308–15. Homer’s method is more functional than decorative.
270–333 The encounter with Melánthios, the goatherd, a thoroughly disagreeable character whose abuse of Eumaios and his guest goes far beyond the predictable rivalry between herders of different animals (which seems to surface at line 280), is multifunctional: it gives Odysseus and the audience a foretaste of what he will catch in the hall and Odysseus a first test of patience (304); it provides another opportunity to present Eumaios’ piety, this time in striking relief; and it reveals that Eumaios is not so certain that Odysseus is not alive and cannot return as his remarks to the “Kretan” in Book XIV suggested (e.g., 83–88, 161–77). See also 404–17, below.
279 A proverb (confirmed by many ancient quotations) along the lines of “birds of a feather flock together.”
300–304 Typically, when Homeric characters weigh two courses of action, they execute one. (For example, X.56–61 or XXIV.260–66, standard cases; or V.369–89, where a higher power intervenes.) Here, Odysseus alone, by exercising self-control, chooses to do neither. The departure from the standard scene of “inner debate” underlines Odysseus’ extraordinary willpower.
319–20 Although this would be a terrible threat and insult to anyone, Melánthios probably knows that it would be a repetition of Eumaios’ own history. Not only will Melánthios get punishment fitting a slave (for the final stages, see XXII.527–30) but Eumaios has the opportunity to begin the torture (XXII. 197–212). He is pious enough to pray for Odysseus’ return rather than revenge; how sweet that he eventually gets the pleasure of having the last word (see XXII.213–20).
315 Bad shepherds ruin flocks!: Obviously proverbial.
321–24 These remarks put Melánthios on the level of the worst suitors, with whom he has thrown in his lot (Eurýmakhos even, see 330–32). Such a bow shot as Melánthios mentions will in fact occur, though with Antínoös, not Telémakhos, as the victim (XXII.816). Here Melánthios imagines Apollo shooting the arrow; there Odysseus will pray to Apollo for success (XXII.7). In between comes Penélopê’s wish (649–50) of Apollo as archer and Antínoös as victim.
370–74 Although these lines are calculated by Odysseus to further his disguise as a beggar, Homer seems to have Odysseus touch on elementally human experiences. Reentering his own home as a beggar, he is stripped to bare humanity, not unlike King Lear on the heath, although Homer does not go so far as Shakespeare and strip his hero of sanity as well.
375–422 While he spoke / an old hound: The man in disguise is recognized only by “man’s best friend” (see XVI.6–8, above). This phrase is more apt in its Odysseyan context than in times when the relationship is one of a pet to his owner. Dogs were not regarded as items of luxury but, like other domestic animals, working members of the household: they served as guards (see 253) or aided in the hunt. (They were workers in the latter even if for some members of the society depicted in The Odyssey hunting itself was clearly a sport rather than a means to acquire food.)
Argos had been trained by Odysseus to fulfill his function as a necessary auxiliary to one of the standard peacetime pursuits of a man of property and standing. His unappreciated existence had become one of meaningless misery, which demonstrates clearly the impact of Odysseus’ twenty-year absence. The rot and waste of a land without its lord, of a house without its master, is reflected here by the life of an animal.
377 Argos: The dog’s name is based on an adjective that can mean both “shiny” and “swift.” Stanford suggests “Flash” as an English approximation (2.289 [on XVII.291ff.]). The name sharpens the indignity of his present bed of manure (384–88).
381 wild goats … hare … deer: Small potatoes, compared with the boar and even lions we imagine Odysseus would have had him track (see 408–409). For the young Odysseus on a memorable boar hunt, see XIX.460–541.
387 flies: Or perhaps “fleas” or “ticks.”
404–17 A hunter owned him …: In his response to the disguised Odysseus, Eumaios has returned to the safely pessimistic view that Odysseus is dead. After the outburst at lines 308–15, however, we know what we only suspected before, namely, that this is a calculated self-protective posture.
421–24 Although Homer is capable of abrupt transitions, he often suggests some link. Here it may be in the action of seeing, Argos seeing Odysseus and Telémakhos seeing Eumaios. (In Greek, two forms of the verb appear in consecutive lines: idont’ [327] and ide [328].)
446–47 This hanging back: aidôs [347] is “sense of shame” or “reserve.” The sentiment (relayed by Eumaios with minor variation in 454 [352]) has a proverbial ring, somewhere between “You don’t get poor by asking” and “God helps those who help themselves.”
457 Zeus aloft is plausible, but Zeu, ana [354] would more likely have been understood as “Lord Zeus.”
470–73 Yes, try the suitors …: It may seem curious to seek to distinguish among the suitors by their qualities if none is to escape death. But it’s not pointless for posterity to know that while this man who died was totally worthless, that man died though he had some redeeming qualities. (Lines 550–51 play off the value placed on having someone speak well of a person. That this refers to someone who is still alive does not negate the point: one’s reputation after death was all-important.)
482–87 It is not a suitor who first openly questions the beggar’s license to beg but a hanger-on, Melánthios, a lowborn man himself, who obviously begrudges the latest arrival any goods he might himself receive and enjoy. This motif is developed at considerably greater length with the arrival of the “scavenger” (XVIII. 1ff.), a rival beggar whom Odysseus, egged on by the suitors, routs in a full-fledged contest.
499–514 The gist of Eumaios’ speech, which starts to wander before Telémakhos cuts him off, seems to be this: no one seeks beggars for his home, but when they come it is a duty to suffer them and be generous.
503–4 a healer …: In the list of four desirable foreigners—skilled craftspeople in widely different fields—note that the singer comes last and receives most attention.
522 What fatherly concern you show me: Telémakhos’ sarcasm is unmistakable. All the suitors would understand part of the point: the very unpaternal Antínoös seeks, like the rest of them, to become Telémakhos’ stepfather. Only Telémakhos, Odysseus, and the audience can enjoy the additional irony that these words are being spoken in the presence of Telémakhos’ true father. Giving the beggar a loaf because he’s the lord of the house will in fact not decrease the house’s property (526–27).
552–82 This is the third story the “Kretan” tells, basically a few selections from the version he had given Eumaios (XIV.229–417). For a full list of the accounts, see XIII.327–65, above.
&nbs
p; 579–82 This is the point at which the Kretan’s latest account begins to diverge from the version in Book XIV. Up to now, the episode has not varied by a word: XVII.564–79 [427–41] = XIV.300–314 [258–72]. Here he claims that he too was taken into forced labor (XVII.579 = XIV.314). There, however, he claims that he threw himself on the mercy of the Egyptian king and ultimately prospered (XIV.315–31). The balance of lines 579–82 heads off in an unexpected direction. But before we get to hear any more new information (and before Eumaios has time to wonder whether these new details can be squared with what the Kretan told him—if he remembers it that well), Antínoös speaks and halts the narrative.
595–99 Odysseus makes the obvious point that Antínoös is himself nothing more than a beggar, living off others’ wealth.
A Guide to the Odyssey: A Commentary on the English Translation of Robert Fitzgerald Page 30