Read A Guide to the Odyssey: A Commentary on the English Translation of Robert Fitzgerald Online
Authors: Ralph J. Hexter,Robert Fitzgerald
Tags: #Homer, #Language Arts & Disciplines, #Greek Language - Translating Into English, #Greek Language, #Fitzgerald; Robert - Knowledge - Language and Languages, #History and Criticism, #Epic Poetry; Greek - History and Criticism, #Poetry, #Odysseus (Greek Mythology) in Literature, #Literary Criticism, #Translating & Interpreting, #Ancient & Classical, #Translating Into English, #Epic Poetry; Greek
The maid, as betrayer of her present master, is a counterexample to Eumaios himself, who entered servitude under equally unfortunate circumstances but remains a loyal servant. Insofar as the Sidonian maid is corrupted by a sexual encounter with a man from outside the household to which she owes her allegiance, her behavior foreshadows that of the twelve disloyal serving maids in Odysseus’ own home (see XVI.363–79, XVIII.401–3, XIX.577–78, XX.8–14, and XXII.472–526). On the ancient household, see XVI. 164, below.
542–47
The maid promises to bring something for her passage, in particular her master’s son. While there may be some hint of tit for tat, it is more likely that she is thinking that if the sailors have a good young man to sell into slavery for their own profit, they will be more inclined to honor the oath she had them swear (528–31). She is smart enough to know that, oath or no oath, the sailors might be tempted to sell her and take the money.
562
by luck:
Homer himself does not have Eumaios say this [466]. We moderns are more embarrassed by strokes of fortune in our narratives. Admitting that something was a coincidence is a way for us to apologize for it.
568
in my bewilderment:
A very daring and interesting interpretation on Fitzgerald’s part. The Greek says, more ambiguously, “I followed her in her fickleness” or “in her craziness” [470]. It would probably be more correct to refer this to her act of betraying her master, which would turn it into a comment by the mature Eumaios, who now knows the full meaning and consequences of the maid’s actions. Fitzgerald more vividly presents us the perspective of the child, who will have found his nanny’s behavior most strange. This is a wonderful touch; the only question is whether Homer would have had his Eumaios create it.
577
Artemis is using her arrows here not to bring sweet death to one of Eumaios’ fellow countrymen at the “sill of old age” but as punishment for an outrage against one of her devotees.
611
When day comes:
Starting tomorrow morning, that is. The feasting promised is offered to companions and crew as a sort of reward for a successfully completed voyage.
614–65
The presence of Theoklýmenos permits an episode with multiple functions. The need to secure hospitality for a man who happens to be a seer permits Homer to integrate yet another reminder of the rotten behavior of the suitors with yet another omen that the house of Odysseus will prevail. Perhaps the most subtle and important aspect of the segment is the way Telémakhos’ current state of mind is presented. His first speech (621–35) begins as we might expect but develops (628–33) in a rather surprising manner: with great sarcasm, he suggests that Theoklýmenos seek hospitality with Eurýmakhos. (Some commentators, however, take this as a serious suggestion.)
The words he heard from Athena as he lay awake at the beginning of this book (26–31) obviously still rankle. Or has his tone crossed from the sarcasm of grim determination to actual despair: Telémakhos sounds as if he’s on the verge of giving up. This may seem an odd reaction to having returned successfully from his trip, until we see, as he must too, that his success consists only in having escaped assassination. He has received no secure
intelligence of his father’s whereabouts and is back where he started, with perhaps a greater desire to dislodge the suitors but no more idea how to do so. Telémakhos’ intentions and instincts are good, but his faith is as yet shallow. The conclusion to his speech (634–35) shows that he is capable of hope, but it is close to being merely a pious expression. However, the gods are at work to restore Odysseus (and justice) in Ithaka, and at this juncture an omen appears to shore up his son’s wavering spirit. Theoklýmenos is at hand to interpret it. With hopes raised (647–52), Telémakhos arranges for Theoklýmenos’ lodging with a trusted companion, Peiraios, thus fulfilling his duty as host and as prince (653–65).
637, 642
on the right:
See 198, above.
BOOK XVI640–646
Theoklýmenos / called him apart …:
Theoklýmenos draws Telémakhos aside to reveal his interpretation of the omen, likely because he has heard enough about the situation in Ithaka to suspect that however well meaning the crew and companions on Telémakhos’ voyage, word of such an event, and of his open proclamation of support of the house of Odysseus, would certainly get back to ears who would be less pleased to hear it. Theoklýmenos will interpret this portent later in much more specific terms to Penélopê (XVII. 189–202).
6–8
When Telémakhos came, the wolfish troop:
The Greek presents a particularly sharp example of the flexibility of epithets: “the loud-barking dogs fawned on Telémakhos and did not bark as he approached” [4–5]. There is a good bit of sense in what only misguided literal-mindedness would find problematic: the dogs are normally loud barkers—a good characteristic in guard dogs—and thus their not barking at Telémakhos’ approach is notable indeed. Homer portrays the nearly infallible sense of animals when it comes to identifications. Note how they, and not Telémakhos, feel Athena’s presence (189–90). And Odysseus’ own hound will soon prove to be the only creature to pierce his master’s total disguise (XVII.375ff.).
17ff
.
his tall son stood at the door:
“His” indeed—but with the narrator’s matter-of-fact identification of Telémakhos, Homer makes us feel more deeply than if he had described outright what must have been a strong suspicion on Odysseus’ part that this is his son. Through this entire scene Homer, unmatched poet of the
unspoken, leaves it for us to imagine (and thereby experience) the emotions that rise in Odysseus when it is confirmed that Telémakhos is actually before him. This becomes even more powerful because Odysseus remains unrecognized. He has the opportunity to take full measure of Telémakhos, whose every word and gesture to his retainer and the unknown beggar bespeaks unaffected nobility of character.
Likewise, we are left to gauge once again the mark of Odysseus’ self-control by the silence he maintains for nearly a hundred lines. Only after Athena appears (182ff.) and instructs him to make himself known to Telémakhos (197–98) do we have the first great recognition scene, in which the emotions Odysseus has had to keep throttled burst forth. This provides a release point for the audience, too, for whom the strain of watching Odysseus maintain his disguise in the presence of his son is comparably intense. Homer’s strategy is emblematized early in the episode by the simile describing Eumaios’ joy at seeing Telémakhos (23–26): as no reader or listener could fail to note, the simile would in fact be more nearly adequate for Odysseus. The simile in context does more than describe the swineherd’s joy. The way Eumaios’ emotions are overtrumped by the presence of a better tenor, Odysseus, underscores the pathos of a situation in which the true father cannot openly claim that role. We note, however, with no prejudice against the estimable Eumaios—o my swineherd!—that it is unlikely Odysseus would ever let bowl and jug fall from his hands, spilling wine in the process (18–20).
40
Uncle:
atta
([31], likewise 67 [57], 152 [130], and XVII.7 [6]). Endearing terms for parents and grandparents often take such sonic shape in children’s mouths: “Nonna” for grandmother, Italian “Babbo.” (For further examples, see Russo in HWH 3.18–19 [on XVII.6].)
44
some gloomy spider’s weaving:
The image of a spider’s web to signify disuse is homespun indeed, but seems uncharacteristically poetic for Telémakhos, who is generally brief and to
the point. We may wonder if Homer wasn’t also thinking at this point of Penélopê’s weaving, which at least for a time managed to keep the bed unused. (On her ploy, see II.101ff., above.) Clearly, mention of the marriage bed prepares for its importance in
Book XXIII
.
54
friend
:
xein’
[44]; on guest-friendship, see VIII. 175, above.
55
our:
Not the “royal we.” This indicates instead that he considers himself a member of the household; it is what Stanford calls a “family plural” (2.265 [XVI.44]).
56–58
The couch is made of branches and skins, as we are told most matter-of-factly. This is unself-conscious simplicity and rusticity.
65–67
Telémakhos has politely waited to make inquiry about the guest until after the meal (see also III.46–55 and 75–76, above). It is also proper for him to offer Eumaios, as his official host, the first opportunity to identify his guest rather than ask the stranger directly.
72–78
This might count as yet another version of Odysseus’ Kretan tales, though a summary at second hand. The irony of “the truth about him” (72) is broad.
80–84, 99–105
Things are so bad that it seems Odysseus will not be able to enter his own home even disguised as a guest.
108–30
The “stranger” is exceedingly polite as he begins to speak, but almost immediately we see how he goes about gathering intelligence on the attitudes of the other residents of Ithaka and above all Telémakhos’ spirit and character. The questions about an oracle or nonexistent brothers of Telémakhos function as part of his patter, but a more subtle point has been drawn from the latter. Odysseus’ queries here provoke Telémakhos’ explanation that he, like both his father and grandfather (134–39), is a single son. This points up the lack of those who would, in other situations, be ideal and natural allies against the suitors. “But it … also requires Odysseus to adopt the kind of clandestine
strategy at which he excels and for which he can get all the glory” (Murnaghan, 61n.).
160–79
Eumaios expresses concern for Laertes, who, as we already know (XV.434–40), has for some time been sick with grief both for his absent son and for the wife who died of that same grief. Now we learn that news of Telémakhos’ risky trip to the mainland has caused him to withdraw and worsen. Telémakhos will have word sent to him discreedy. This small exchange sets up a pattern with no little relevance for the conclusion of
The Odyssey:
things cannot be resolved until Laertes is brought back to full communion with life. Indeed, Telémakhos mentions the only balm that would help him: the return of Odysseus himself (172–73).
164
his own folk:
Members of his household rather than blood relatives (unless some of the slaves were his illegitimate children). In ancient Greek and Roman society, while relations among kin were carefully tracked and monitored, the “household” in terms of everyday life was the unit that most closely corresponded to our “family.” The word Eumaios uses for “folk” here [
dmôôn
, 140] is related to words for “house.” (In Latin, the word for “household” is
familia.
)
189–90
See 6–8, above.
195–201
Athena appears in splendor, not in the guise of some local girl or Ithakan elder. She speaks to Odysseus this time not with jokes and pleasantries but with impressive solemnity, as her formal salutation indicates (195–96). That the suitors are to die is her will and command, and she promises our hero that she will tip the overwhelming odds against him in his favor. The ineluctable movement toward the climactic slaughter in
Book XXII
has begun.
211–18
Telémakhos’ thought is most likely the first any pious Greek would have, namely, that the old stranger who now appears so utterly transformed is a god who has cast off his own
disguise. In other words, this is an epiphany. Telémakhos’ piety is clear throughout, particularly in the prayer and promise of gifts with which he concludes his brief speech.
219
noble:
Dios
[186]—“divine” or “godlike”—is of course not used casually here. At the very moment Odysseus attempts to reveal himself without disguise, he is, ironically, still taken to be someone other than himself.
223–24
Odysseus is finally free to greet Telémakhos as Eumaios had in lines 21–22. In the Greek the parallel is even clearer: behind Fitzgerald’s “embraced” is in fact “he kissed” [
kuse
, 190], so that we have an echo of both kisses and tears.
225–35
Telémakhos’ reaction is plausible psychologically (of course!). But Telémakhos never shows himself to be more like his father than when he denies what has just been told him—as suspicious as Odysseus is, for example, in
Book XIII
. A chip off the old block.
232–33
unless a god
…: Telémakhos has hit upon the truth here, suggesting that he is prepared to believe Odysseus’ explanation of his transformation when it is offered at lines 245–51.
238–41
Odysseus assumes the role of father for the first time, giving Telémakhos a mild reproof for behavior unbecoming a prince. He never offers (and never could offer) Telémakhos either a logical argument or a shared token to establish his identity. But emotions here are deeper than logic, and by speaking paternally, Odysseus makes Telémakhos recognize and accept him as his long-desired father. This permits him to let down his own guard and weep as a child can only in the arms of a parent (253ff.).