28 February 2017
Sophomore
English
Room US028
Room US028
Dear Students:
In books 18-24,
the last part of “Odysseus on Ithaca,” both the patterns of the Odyssey
and the arc of the story come full circle. In fact, we see Homer bring things
to completion through the convergence of all the individual patterns into the
complex tapestry, the Pattern of patterns, that we call "the story."
Coming of
Age (Andra) We
find several comments in these final books about Telemachus’ entry into
manhood. One typical remark occurs in Book 19. As Odysseus in disguise finally
speaks to Penelope face-to-face, he says, “’No women’s wildness here in the
house / escapes the prince’s eye. He’s come of age at last’” (95-6).
Telemachus’ actions in these books also reflect his maturity. Not the least of
these would be the assistance he gives his father in the battle with the
suitors. We also see him become nearly equal to Odysseus, his father’s true
son, in Book 24, when Telemachus, Odysseus, and Laertes prepare to fight the
suitors’ relatives.
Bards How is a man with a bow like a bard?
The simile that Homer uses to describe Odysseus’s stringing of the great bow at
the end of Book 21 evokes that question. The choice of this comparison suggests
some intriguing connections between bards and archers, not the least of which
is that they both deal out pain and hardship with their instruments. Hence,
when the bard is at his best, his song causes us to weep, but to weep in such a
way that it heals us. Apollo, the archer god, is also the god of song and the
god of healing. Further, the final showdown with the suitors takes place on a
feast day honoring Apollo and is executed mainly with Apollo's own weapon, as
Odysseus's bow may literally once have been. It is also intriguing that it
takes a bard, Phemius, to bring Odysseus to restrain himself and to show mercy,
effectively bringing to an end the slaughter of the suitors, when he grabs
Odysseus's knees and pleads to be spared.
Identity These books feature key recognition or
discovery scenes: Eurycleia’s discovery of Odysseus’s scar in Book 19 and
Odysseus’s announcement of his true identity to the suitors just after he slays
Antinous in Book 22. The first, significantly, leads to the long digression
that reveals the meaning of Odysseus’s name, given to him by his maternal
grandfather Autolycus: “’so let his name be Odysseus. . . / the Son of
Pain, a name he’ll earn in full’” (463-4). When he receives a wound from a boar
on Parnassus (the mountain where the Muses live), he begins to earn his name.
But the moment when he truly owns his name comes when he slaughters the suitors
in his hall, just after he’s revealed that name to them. Notice the contrast
between this moment of revelation and the one Odysseus reports in Book 9 when
he calls out his name to the Cyclops. Whereas that moment results from a
reckless impulse, Odysseus has carefully prepared for the revelation of his
identity in Book 22 to take place at just the right moment. Finally, in Book 23,
Odysseus dispels Penelope’s doubts about his identity by revealing the secret
of their marriage bed: One post consists of an olive tree still rooted in the
earth, a symbol of the vitality of their marriage. Sharing his pain, Penelope
completes Odysseus’s identity as neither Circe nor Calypso could.
Nostos and Xenia Again, the clearest moment of
recognition for Odysseus is when he begins the battle for his home. When he
reasserts mastery over his house and family, Odysseus can strip away all
disguises. He reveals himself here because protecting his household involves
protecting and preserving who he is and what he has become through his
hardships and travels: the paragon of wisdom and self-command who has learned
to control his belly. The suitors have violated the practice of hospitality by
lawlessly disrupting the peace of Odysseus’s home and family. Since home,
providing for the balanced satisfaction of the belly’s appetites, represents
the place where human life can flourish, the suitors have outraged both the
gods and men. In fact, by transgressing against xenia (hospitality),
they’ve threatened the very order of the universe that Homer depicts in the
tale. Zeus protects strangers and suppliants by consecrating the practice of
hospitality because men who are away from home as they often are in Homer's
world face the threat of losing their humanity and reverting to the level of
beasts in the satisfaction of their appetites. Hospitality counters that danger
by providing a substitute for home.
Recklessness
and Restraint Homer may
be the first great sage of western culture to correlate self-control to wisdom.
Since Odysseus’s return to Ithaca in Book 13, we have seen him exercising what
we might call heroic self-restraint. In his own house, Odysseus suffers the
abuses the suitors pour out on him when he’s disguised as a beggar. Odysseus
must also resist revealing his identity to Penelope, especially when they talk
face-to-face in Book 19. All of the effort that Odysseus puts into controlling
his impulses is a sign of foresight, looking ahead to the possible consequences
of making certain choices and performing certain actions. Significantly, when
Eurycleia discovers the scar that identifies Odysseus, it happens in Penelope’s
presence. One nuance about recklessness in the story might escape notice.
Controlling recklessness does not mean endless restraint. There comes a time
for release as well. In his epic, Homer dramatizes the importance of knowing
when to maintain and when to relax tension as a safeguard against recklessness.
As both Menelaus and Alcinous point out, “Balance is best in all things.”
However, a question remains as to how thoroughly Odysseus masters himself or,
indeed, whether anyone can ever achieve perfect self-control. In Book 24, when
Odysseus violates Athena’s command and continues to attack the suitors’
relatives, Zeus has to intervene by dropping a thunderbolt at Athena’s feet to
rein him in. It seems that Odysseus needs to make one more journey to polish
his great, yet still imperfect, ability to practice self-restraint. And another
journey is pending. Perhaps Odysseus’s relapse into recklessness here explains
the unfinished business of his final journey to appease Poseidon. On his
earlier journey home from Troy, he received an education that turned him from
recklessness. But that education, it seems, won't be completed until he has
restored complete harmony with the gods by spreading Poseidon's worship to a
place in which the Sea God is unknown.
Since ancient
times, some scholars have posited that Book 24 was not originally part of
Homer’s poem but a later addition. They argue that Odysseus’s reunion with
Penelope gives a fitting resolution to the story. Still, Book 24 does wrap up
some other loose ends neatly. In it, Homer returns us to the Kingdom of the
Dead for one final look at the suitors and at Achilles and Agamemnon fully
reconciled to each other in death (thus bringing the story cycle begun in the Iliad
to completion). He shows us Odysseus’s reunion with Laertes and disposes of
the confrontation between Odysseus and the suitors’ relatives. With the
intervention of Zeus and Athena, Book 24 echoes the opening sequence on Olympus
in Book 1, with this difference: Zeus and Athena are now clearly allies in the
cause of restoring peace and prosperity to Odysseus and to Ithaca.
I hope that’s
helpful. What do you think?
Autonomously
yours,
Dr. Carlson
P.S. I
intentionally did not comment on one of the major patterns of the story:
God-mortal interaction. In your responses to this epistle, I would like for you
to offer your thoughts on how Homer brings this pattern full circle and weaves
it into the other patterns at the conclusion of the story. Do this instead of
the usual three takeaways and a question.
