Thinking Out Loud about The Odyssey, Part 1

August 28, 2009 at 10:24 am (Greek, Homer, Literature)

The Odyssey, Books I-VII

The Odyssey has a different focus than The Iliad. It centers more on the home and a longing to reach home. It also has an emphasis on journeys—usually difficult journeys that result in great loss for the one traveling: loss of things, of comrades, of years. Related to this idea of home and loved ones is the idea of strangers and hospitality. Several strangers appear in familiar gatherings, and people are always curious to find out who the strangers are—in other words, to make them friends. For example, Athena (disguised as a man) is the first stranger to come on the scene at Ithaca in Book I, and Telemachus is anxious to hear the whole story about this “man,” who Telemachus suspects is his father’s friend. Once Telemachus sets out to find information about his father’s fate, he, too, becomes the stranger that Nestor, Menelaus, and Helen want to know. In Books VI-VIII, Odysseus becomes the mysterious stranger. Why this emphasis on strangers? At times, being hospitable to a stranger is said to be a mark of good breeding (192), but at others, strangers have caused havoc in the home, as was the case with the man who killed Agamemnon. Furthermore, it is said the gods are no strangers to each other (155).

In terms of god-likeness, The Odyssey seems to be very similar to The Iliad. As Odysseus tells in Book VII, the gods give some gifts to some men—and these gifts make them god-like, but they do not give a man all the gifts (197). It seems, though, that all kings have some sort of physical connection to deities—as king Alcinous, for example, tells of his lineage (181)—which might explain their majesty, or strength, or wisdom. A special emphasis in The Odyssey seems to be that the sons resemble their fathers, and if the father is majestic or godlike, the son will bear at least some of these traits. This is said of Telemachus (128-129, 143), as well as of Nestor’s son (131). Athena also continually works to present Odysseus as a god, and others mistake him for one (186).

Another emphasis in The Odyssey is that placed on goddesses and the likeness of women to goddesses. Nausicaa is likened to—almost confused with—Artemis (173). Odysseus prizes Penelope over a goddess (158-159). Helen’s status elevates Menelaus to acquiring immortality because he is the son-in-law of Zeus. The goddess Athena is the most prominent character among the gods, changing from one form to another to intervene on behalf of Odysseus.

All of these things are told in a song (“Sing, Muse”) and have bards as a important feature of the story. The songs usually cause people to weep constantly as they remember dead loved ones. What is the function of the weeping and the songs? How does it work in a comedy? Could it point out that success does not take place without a cost?

Leave a Comment

Thinking Out Loud about The Iliad, Part 6

August 19, 2009 at 9:24 am (Culture, Greek, Homer, Literature)

The Iliad ends with the hero’s impending death, but that never takes place. In fact, no other hero arises—though Homer easily could have talked more about Paris and emphasized his killing Achilles—and Achilles’ death seems to be the end. Achilles’ death has a finality about it, but he is not converted into a deity or worshipped after he dies. The account of the death of Sarpedon is parallel in several ways to the death of Hector (Zeus debating to thwart their fates to rescue them, his love for them, Athena/Hera’s words to Zeus, etc.). Sarpedon, however, seems to have had the burial near that of a deity, while Hector does not (his body is desecrated instead).

The Iliad, as stated before, is about competition and strife and how destructive those are. Times such as the funeral games and the description of Achilles’ shield reflect peaceful and civilized times, times in community and of peaceful resolution when disputes arise. For example, the funeral games bring competition, but the disagreements that arise from it are settled in a gentlemanly fashion.

The gods seem to be able to do something about fate: they are not hopelessly bound to it, particularly because they don’t know the specifics of fate. This comes across with Zeus’ words about intervening on Hector’s behalf. Apparently, Zeus could have helped Hector, but because of some greater decree or plan, he chose not to do it. The same is the case with the other gods.

In Book XVII, when Hector puts on Achilles’ armor, Zeus talks of the prince’s death, saying that even though Hector would die soon, Zeus would now give him glory for a brief time (449). Then Ares “comes into Hector” and strengthens him for the battle. It seems that in the context of battle, at least, humans participate in the divine precisely when they are the strongest and seek glory for themselves. Courage and strength and fighting ability make them godlike. In fact, the more strong and frenzied Achilles becomes, the more godlike he seems to become, and the more destructive, as well. The scene of Achilles battling the river shows the greatness of the gods, and yet how they still have to submit to fate. Here the river is not personified. The river is actually a god, so some magic or mysterious thing is evident in this section. Fate and the Furies are pre-Olympian gods, and though the Olympian gods rule at the time of The Iliad, the pre-Olympian gods still are around and still have power (491).

Homer uses the vocatives of the narrator (towards Patroclus and Menelaus) at times of intense emotion. Other poetic devices of feeling include the narrator recalling an earlier time—such as when Achilles remembers a former time with Patroclus while Patroclus is dead—or by presenting someone who does not know of the death of a loved one (Helen looking for her brothers, Achilles in the camp waiting for Patroclus, and Andromache preparing a bath for Hector).

Leave a Comment

Thinking Out Loud about The Iliad, Part 5

August 13, 2009 at 9:05 am (Culture, Greek, Homer, Literature)

The Iliad, Books XVII-XXIV

As happened before the death of Sarpedon, Zeus again debates whether to let Hector die or to save him and defy fate. Instead of Hera protesting against Zeus for thinking about this, Book XXII has Athena mouthing the same statements the goddess queen protested. In reply to Athena, Zeus tells her that nothing he had just said was meant in earnest (547). What does this mean? Is it merely that Zeus cannot control fate, and therefore, though he desires to save Hector, in fact, he cannot? Zeus adds that he means Athena “all the good will in the world.” Does that mean, then, that he does not mean Hector’s good will? Whose good is Zeus pursuing?

This section deals heavily with the notion of human responsibility vs. external forces, like intervention of the gods and fate. Agamemnon reiterates in Book XIX that the gods blinded him and that he is not to blame for making Achilles angry (491, 493). Artemis, in Book XXI blames Hera for the entire war (536), and yet all the gods are expectant to see whether the Achaeans will win prematurely, against fate. In other words, even the gods don’t seem to know definitely what or when someone’s fate will be fulfilled (537). This lack of knowledge, both in humans and in gods, spurs people on to have courage. Since they don’t know whether fate or the gods will be on their side and cause them to win, they are encouraged to aim for something that may even be too hard for them. For example, both Agenor and Hector dare to go against Achilles at different times because they know that the gods give the victory and hope that the gods will help them win over mighty Achilles (538, 545). Had Hector definitely known that he did not have a chance against Achilles, he would not have had the courage to go up against his enemy.

The Iliad certainly seems to emphasize friendships and family relations. Fathers are revered, and soldiers are often described as sons of a particular person. Even Priam uses Achilles’ remembrance of his father to soften Achilles to give up Hector’s body. An interesting account in Book XX is Aeneas’ relating of his lineage as he is fighting with Achilles (510-511). It seems like an odd intervention in the middle of the battle, but this appears to be the closest hint at the subject of the Aeneid. The account of the forging on Achilles’ shield in Book XVIII also seems somewhat superfluous, though poetic. What is its function?

Finally, the book concludes with the burial of Hector. Indeed, the ending is tragic, and the last person to bemoan Hector’s death is Helen, the one for which the battle rages. Though Achilles’ death is imminent, nothing is mentioned of Paris: Paris does not seem to be a hero. Despite rage and killing, Hector and Achilles are presented as pious men who revered the gods, and therefore, seem to be the models in these areas. Both are also spoken of as full of beauty (553, 609) and godlike.

Leave a Comment

A Man of Imagination

August 11, 2009 at 9:38 am (Literature, Russell Kirk)

In youth [Russell Kirk] had thought now and again of becoming a soldier, a professor, a lawyer—or better, a judge. Yet without quite intending it, he became a man of letters. Having drawn the sword of imagination, he ventured, in the words of Pico della Mirandola, to “join battle as to the sound of a trumpet of war,” assailing the vegetative and sensual errors of his time.

In the heat of combat, he learned how to love what ought to be loved and how to hate what ought to be hated. Buffeted in the Battle of the Books, he bore on his shield the device of the Permanent Things. As Flannery O’Connor would come to write of his literary crusade, “Old Russell lays about him.” There was no discharge in that Fifty Years’ War, so hard fought. Possibly his adventures and misadventures, like those of the Knight of the Sorrowful Countenance, may be found amusing. Yet unlike Don Quixote de la Mancha, Kirk generally kept a cheerful countenance, to the vexation of certain reviewers of his books. (The Sword of Imagination, 2)

Leave a Comment

Thinking Out Loud about The Iliad, Part 4

August 6, 2009 at 2:04 pm (Great Conversation, Greek, Homer, Literature)

The will of Zeus is unknowable until he reveals it. In Book XV he declares—apparently for the first time—that Patroclus will die (and it seems to be the first time that the death of Sarpedon is mentioned). The narrator, however, has already foreshadowed this tragedy when Achilles asked Patroclus to go to the warfront (“this was the beginning of his doom” or similar wording). We are unable to ascertain the overarching purpose of Zeus in history, perhaps because Homer only gives us part of the whole story of the gods. We know that in The Iliad the overarching purpose of the story is to give glory to Achilles, though it is difficult to understand why, since Zeus loves Troy.

The Iliad seems to attempt a theodicy, reconciling the reader to the gods. It seems to be an explanation of why evil and strife exist in the world. The world of the gods mirrors the world of men with its strife and struggles, and humans get caught in the battle between the gods. In the end, even the gods can’t override fate, not even Zeus. Had Homer provided an easy explanation to strife and problems in the world, the Greek reader might have dismissed the work as incompatible with reality.

Surely, Zeus seems to be the supreme ruler because he has greater strength than Hades and Poseidon, but he also must be greater in other senses (i.e., it cannot be only sheer strength that gives him the right to rule). The problem that Plato had with Homer’s view of the gods was that the gods did not correlate with the good. Furthermore, Plato believed that the gods as presented in Homer’s works corrupted the youth because they did not present good models for them to follow: if all the youth strived to be like the gods, this would hurt Plato’s ideal republic. Even so, Homer does present characters in The Iliad that are somehow attempting to be like the gods. Of course, this does not mean that they wanted to be like the gods in every way, but just that tried to attain some divine excellence.

Glaucon and Sarpedon state that since life is short, they should make the most of it and die with glory. Achilles seems to have a nihilistic view, stating that since everyone dies—regardless of whether he fought bravely—then it is better to avoid dying. Although Achilles seems to have this view, he does not act upon this belief. Apparently, his mother told him that he had two fates (whether this is true, we don’t know, but if it is, he is the only one who has two fates ascribed to him): one is to remain, fight, and die early with glory; the other is to return home and live a long and quiet life with no glory. From the beginning of the book, Achilles toys with the idea of going home, but in every speech he pushes back the voyage home to a later date. By the time of the death of Patroclus, Achilles has no choice but to stay and fight. When Patroclus dies, the reader cannot help but tip his sentiments towards Achilles. The reader easily feels with Achilles his devastation because the reader has also become attached to the dead man. But in the latter third of the story, Achilles again loses that privileged position with the reader because of the warrior’s uncontrolled, frenzied thirst for revenge and destruction. The Iliad’s main theme concerns anger and its destructiveness, as is seen in the opening word “mene,” and in the closing scene, showing the result of anger and strife.

When Agamemnon overstepped his boundary in insisting on his own glory, he states that he did this by “divine madness” (ate) and recognized it (Book IX). He admitted his error and tried to make amends. Achilles should have also recognized this “divine madness” in his own life, but because he kept insisting upon his right and his own glory, he destroyed himself and his people. Achilles never admits his wrongdoing like Agamemnon does.

Incidentally, The Iliad is full of gory descriptions of the battle. These are not meant to fill a lust for violence like modern movies do. Rather, they are meant to show the reality of the battle, but they are humanized in several ways. First, no soldier dies without at least being named, and many with a brief or long description of their lives. Bodies belong to families or friends who weep for them. Second, most of the similes (those of flowers or animals) appear in the battle scenes to soften the blow of the deaths, to give relief to the reader.

Leave a Comment

Thinking Out Loud about The Iliad, Part 3

August 3, 2009 at 8:00 am (Great Conversation, Greek, Homer, Literature)

The Iliad, Books 9-16

Zeus’ will seems unfathomable. Why does he cause so much trouble raising up Hector, granting victory to the Trojans, killing Patroclus, and then shifting the glory to the Acheans? Why does Zeus need to kill his own son, Sarpedon? It seems that the gods are just as baffled about Zeus’s will as men are. They do not seem to understand it, and they are constantly balking against it (Book XV). It seems, however, that it is precisely their attempts to subvert Zeus’s will that actually accomplishes it, much like Oedipus Rex’s efforts to avoid his fate led him to fulfill it.

Up to Book XV, one character toward which the reader is most sympathetic is Nestor. In Book XVI, Patroclus appears as a character that the reader comes to love as well as Nestor. In fact, up to this point in the story, it seems that the narrator has never addressed the characters directly, but he does this with Patroclus. This preferential treatment sets the character off as special, and the reader who until now has admired Hector and sided with the Trojans, may now easily turn his sympathies over to the Achaeans because of the death of Patroclus. That Apollo and Zeus strip Patroclus of his armor—leaving him vulnerable to Euphorbus and to Hector—also causes the reader to shift his sympathy towards Patroclus, the greathearted. It seems as though the story leads the reader to accept the will of Zeus, whereas in the beginning, the reader may have balked at it, just as the gods do.

Fate seems to be over everyone, including the gods. Achilles is said to have “two fates,” (265 [410]) but what does that mean? Book XVI refers to the “will of fate” (435 [707]), does this imply that fate is personal or is this just a personification? Some places refer to fate as a goddess, so perhaps it’s a personification here.

Concerning deity and what makes gods different from men, what makes Zeus as great as he is? He tells Poseidon in Book XV that he is greater and that he is the firstborn, too. Was he born greater than Poseidon? Was it acquired (i.e., did he become strong by some means)? If Poseidon and Hades are equals of Zeus, why don’t they rule (393-94)? Is it right for Zeus to be arrogant, as Poseidon declaims Zeus is (393) or is it his right because he is greater? Moreover, does Zeus act for his own interest or is he acting on the interest of men? Whose greater good is in view when it comes to Zeus’s will? Is there a greater good in view or does Zeus decree things based on capriciousness?

Two curiosity questions that I have left are the following: Who are “the gods beneath the ground that circle Cronus” (395)? And what does it mean that “the Furies always stand by the older brothers” (394)?

Leave a Comment

Thinking Out Loud about The Iliad, Part 2

July 28, 2009 at 5:22 pm (Great Conversation, Greek, Homer, Literature)

In The Iliad, the gods are unfathomable: an element of mystery exists in their doings. Diomedes finds out that no one really can be sure who is or is not a god. The lines between gods and humans are blurred. Generally, the gods are recognized by an aesthetic element (splendor), which they can choose to reveal or to hide at any given moment to any given person. Men are as the gods insofar as they display one or more characteristics of the gods. A person does not need to display every divine quality to be called god-like. So Paris can be called god-like because of his physical beauty, even though he is a great coward. Incidentally, in The Republic, Plato critiques Homer for attributing evil to the gods. Would Zeus fit the model of the philosopher king? Are the attributes of the gods worth emulating?

Fate is a factor separate from the gods, seemingly, the allotted time that each being has upon the earth (which no one knows or understands, including the gods). Some believe Fate to be a pre-Olympian god, a more primitive being that is not as complex or sophisticated as the Olympian gods.

Man’s actions in Homer can be ascribed to three possible sources, though these overlap and are blurred:

  • Fate
  • Intervention of the gods
  • Man’s choices/mistakes

An example of this blurring of lines can be the instance when Athena makes a young arrow shooter break the truce after Menelaus’ duel with Paris. Athena chooses this young man because he’s the best archer, but he is also young and foolish, so very possibly he could have acted in the same way without Athena’s enticing. Another example can be taken from the tension between Helen’s action and the gods’ intervention in her life to make her follow Paris to Troy. Is she to blame? Or are the gods to blame?

At times, the wills of the gods—including Fate—clash. Zeus seems to fight against fate with his own son, Sarpedon. It’s difficult to determine whether Zeus actually has power over fate, or whether he just seems to have it. In the end, Zeus gives in to fate and lets Sarpedon die, though not without shedding tears of blood. When the gods intervene in the world of men at times they can receive pain, for example, when a loved human dies or when the gods are physically wounded—like Venus and Ares who are attacked by Diomedes. Even pain does not seem to stop the gods from meddling with the human world.

Humility has no place in Ancient Greece. Pride is fitting, but it should not come out of proportion. Agamemnon overstepped his boundary of pride with Achilles (Book I) and recognizes it (Book IX). This was not humility but recognition. Achilles (and all Greece) recognized his own strength and value, and he felt that everyone should value him, as was his due. In Homer’s culture, honor and recognition seem inseparably tied to material things (plunder, gifts, etc.). When Achilles did not get what he believed was his due—and it was his due—he became angry.

Agamemnon tries to rally the troops to battle by insisting that they should go home. One can find a theme of arousing men to fight by words all throughout The Iliad. Hector has to arouse Paris to fight against Menelaus before the duel because Paris is a coward. Before each difficult battle, either a warrior or a god gives a speech that stirs men to courage and to fight.

Leave a Comment

Thinking Out Loud about The Iliad, Part 1

July 10, 2009 at 5:06 pm (Great Conversation, Greek, Homer, Literature)

The Iliad, Chapters 1-8

Concerning the involvement of the gods in the life of men, why do the gods care so much about humans? The Iliad is just as much a story about the gods as it is about men. Is it a mere entertainment to them, each having a pet favorite human or a way to assert their power among other gods? Zeus seems to be entertained by humans, though he is bound to Thetis to intervene, and he pities those who pray to him. Hera, Athena, and Aphrodite have personal interests in the fight, and seem to be driven more by selfishness and pride than anything else. If men did not exist, would the gods have other things to do? It seems that the times that the gods are in Olympus unaware of what is happening in the world below are few.

Perhaps Homer is merely pointing out one instance in the lives of human beings wherein the gods were very involved, as in the case of Job in the Bible. One difference with Job’s account would be that the gods here are fighting for their own selfish gain rather than to prove a man. Another difference is that Job is largely unaware of what is taking place in heaven above, while the Trojans and Argives perceive the involvement of the gods more frequently.

Concerning humanity and deity, what makes a man god-like? Particularly the kings (Agamemnon, Priam) and princes (Hector, Diomedes) are described at times as “like a god.” Is it mere physical beauty or courage or strength? Is it something that is merely apparent to the eyes (i.e., the person looks like a god)? Ares and other gods describe Diomedes’s actions as “almost supernatural” (Book V) because he fights against the gods and wounds Aphrodite and Ares. These questions seem particularly difficult when thinking of Paris, who is described as “magnificent as a god” and “brave” (Book III, 129-130), but yet in the middle of the battle with Menelaus disappears from combat to appear in a bedroom with Helen. At this time, Helen calls him a coward, and Hector chides him for not going out to fight with Trojan men who are dying. If Paris is a coward, in what way is he “magnificent as a god”? Does he receive this description merely because he is handsome and strong? Finally, are men described as “god-like” whey they are actually descendents of a god, for example, as in the case of Achilles or Aeneas? It seems evident that this, at times, is the case.

It also may be asked what the difference between a god and a man is. Apollo’s words to Diomedes indicate a divide: “we are not of the same breed, we will never be, the deathless gods and the men who walk the earth” (Book V, 178-179). Nonetheless, the lines seem blurred when we note that Zeus sleeps, just like Agamemnon does, and that Ares bleeds, just like Aeneas. Both gods and men eat and drink, both get angry and pity, and though the gods have immortality, they are able to rescue men from dying (e.g., Paris being rescued by Aphodite). Is the difference one of power? Or is it ruling over more men, as Nestor points out, makes Agamemnon powerful (86)? For a difference of power exists even among the gods, as well as a difference of ruling over many or few. In addition, the gods have the gods have limitations, but why is this so? Is it to make them more “realistic”? If Zeus can devour other gods, their immortality, then, would be conditional, and they would be more like men. So the lines dividing gods and men seem to be blurry at times.

Leave a Comment

Thinking Out Loud about Greek Classics

July 10, 2009 at 5:02 pm (Great Conversation, Greek, Literature)

I’m reading through some of the Greek classics, and I would like to put my thoughts out here, so that perhaps some of you might join me in a discussion à la St. John’s College.

The reading list is the following:

  • Homer, The Iliad
  • Homer, The Odyssey
  • Aeschylus, Oresteia
  • Sophocles, Philoctetes
  • Sophocles, Antigone
  • Sophocles, Oedipus the King
  • Sophocles, Oedipus at Colonus
  • Virgil, The Aeneid

I’m already reading the last part of The Odyssey, so I have come to a preliminary answer to some of the questions I pose in these. Since you may have not thought about some of these things, I leave my “old” questions for your insights.

I have discovered that the Robert Fagels translations are very good to give one a feel for an overall picture and poetic feel of the work, so numbers refer to page numbers of his translations.

So now, on to The Iliad!

Leave a Comment

God’s Law vs. Man’s Law?

August 6, 2008 at 7:59 pm (Literature)

I’m curious about this paragraph:

What! The flaw in the cuirass of society could be found by a magnanimous wretch! What! An honest servant of the law could find himself suddenly caught between two crimes, the crime of letting a man escape, and the crime of arresting him! All was not certain in the order given by the state to the official! There might be blind alleys in duty! What then! Was all that real! Was it true that an old bandit, weighed down by condemnations, could rise up and be right at last? Was this credible? Were there cases then the law ought, before a transfigured crime, to retire, stammering excuses?

Yes, there were! And Javert saw it! and Javert touched it! and not only could he not deny it, but he took part in it. They were realities. It was abominable that real facts could reach such deformity.” –Les Miserables

Hugo wants us to think that Valjean should be released from his lifetime penalty. He wants us to feel that it’s wrong for Flavert to capture him. Is he right in doing this?

Leave a Comment

« Older entries Newer entries »