A Guide to the Odyssey: A Commentary on the English Translation of Robert Fitzgerald (32 page)

605–7
Zeus disdained my offering:
Odysseus is speaking from his current state of knowledge, inferring backward. There was probably no sign of disdain at the time. The remark is of a piece with his characteristic piety. (See 59–60, above.)

4
an isle adrift upon the sea:
The idea of the floating island fascinated the Greeks; according to legend, the very well known Delos, with its shrine holy to Apollo, had been floating before it was anchored.

8
gave girls to boys:
In this fairy-tale kingdom, the two groups of siblings are of equal number, which works perfectly for the marriage of all the sisters to their brothers. With the continued presence of all his children at daily feasting, Aiolos is the fantasy image of a father in
The Odyssey
. (For both more fairy-tale and realistic elements of this episode, see 22–29, below.)

17–18
the return of the Akhaians:
Strictly, Odysseus would at this point have known little about the
nostoi
of any other of the Akhaians. Homer is no pedant, and no one in his audience would have gotten stuck on this point.

22–29
The bag of winds with all of them tied up and only one (at first) let out—the favorable west-wind—is one version of a traditional motif. Another example, developed somewhat differently,
is Pandora’s box, so-called because Pandora (literally “all gifts”) opened this box, releasing all woes into the world. She managed to slam it shut in time to retain only one item—hope.

Denys Page cites examples of “rain-makers and wind-controllers in primitive societies” as well as “professional wind-sellers” in a variety of cultures, arguing that some were familiar to the Greeks. He claims that Homer’s audience would not see this aspect of the Aiolos episode as the stuff of fairy tale at all (
Folktales in Homer’s Odyssey
, pp. 73–78). But what is realistic as “primitive magic” can be cast into a shape that has recognizably traditional elements (threes, prohibitions violated with disastrous consequences, and so on). Here is a brief story also quoted by Page:

57
a quick finish:
That even the ever-resourceful Odysseus considers suicide suggests how deep his despair is at this point. His
moments of despair are coming more frequently as his travels continue (see 552–53).

82–85
Aiolos’ response does not constitute a breach of hospitality or of the rights of suppliants. It was proper for a host to refuse to aid someone who was hated by the gods. Underlying this was the belief that those being punished by the gods were foul or stained, and that the
miasma
with which they were infected could be contagious. Has Odysseus forgotten the listening Phaiákians?

93–97
In that land
…: This seems to be a clear reference to long summer days in far northern European latitudes. While there may not be any well-informed geographical knowledge behind the description of Odysseus’ travels that would permit us to identify the “real” locations of these way stations, there is every reason to believe that Homer could have heard reports of the midnight sun from traders and incorporated them into his description of a fantastic land. Amber from northern Europe reached the Mediterranean as early as the Iron Age and found its way into Mycenaean shaft-graves (c. 1700
B.C.E
.). The first recorded Greek sea voyage to Scandinavia is that of Pytheas (c. 325
B.C.E.)
.

By contrast, the land of the Laistrygonês may be far to the east, the home of the Dawn, thus (poetically) depicted as a land of never-failing light. The strangeness of this world is further emphasized by the “workaholic” fantasy Odysseus spins. The Greeks well appreciated the fact that night gives respite from the labors and cares of the day. In a poem frequently imitated (though now fragmentary), the seventh-century-
B.C.E.
Spartan poet Alkman described all of nature, from the mountain peaks to the depths of the sea, asleep in peaceful rest (
Lyrica Graeca Selecta
, ed. D. Page, frag. 34).

99–107
Some scholars have suggested that Homer is depicting a Scandinavian fjord, and this could serve as a good description of one. (Going further down this road, lines 106–7 might be a reference to ice [
leukê galênê
, 94, could be rendered “white calm”]
and line 94 perhaps even a yodeling herdsmen’s call.) Such a fjord would have been “curious” to the Greeks, and the description may suggest that the harborage is in some way remarkable and noteworthy (the adjective in line 99 literally means “famous” [
kluton
, 87]). Again (see 93–97, above) we must remember that while the poet may be incorporating elements that at several removes go back to a traveler who saw a Scandinavian coastline, neither Homer nor his audience would have the geographical apparatus to put this on a map. Indeed, they had no concept of “Europe” comparable to our own. The problems of literalization are well exemplified in the equation of “white calm” with “ice”: the Greeks could not possibly have envisioned a sea frozen over with Odysseus sailing through it.

108–10
My own black ship …:
The separate moorage of Odysseus’ own ship will prove important (see 133ff., below).

117–20
It was no doubt quite common, in life as in literature, for travelers heading toward a settlement to meet someone coming out to fetch water (Jacob and Rachel at the well in Genesis 29:2–11, or when Athena appears before Odysseus as the young Phaiákian girl with a “water jug,” VII.23). However, although Odysseus’ party encounters the king’s daughter, as he had encountered Nausikaa in Phaiákia, things will turn out rather differently here.

123
waved her hand:
She must have answered the questions asked in line 122, for there is no other way for Odysseus to have learned the name of the people or their king. (There is also a possibility of some narrative negligence; see 534, below, with further references.)

125–28
The gigantic Laistrygon couple recall the giants in “Jack and the Beanstalk.” Here the husband, Antiphatês, (at least) is the man-eater. We wouldn’t speak of
The Odyssey
as being a “source” or “influence” in such a case, but of “analogues” or “folk-tale types.” Such tales have wide distribution, and in the mouths of skilled tale-tellers they have infinite power to undergo transformation.
They may even be generated anew or reconstituted from common motifs according to a deep structure or pattern (i.e., archetype).

129–38
The cannibalistic, giant, rock-lobbing Laistrygonês are another incarnation of many of the story elements Homer presented in the tale of the Kyklops (Book IX). But instead of criticizing this as mere repetition, it is more appropriate, given Homeric techniques, to appreciate it as theme and variation. The same critique has been made (and the same defense should be mounted) in the case of Kalypso (Book V) and Kirkê, whom we are about to meet (149ff.).

132ff
. All but Odysseus’ ship, fortunately moored farthest out to sea, are destroyed. Now we see that lines 108–10 were not merely descriptive but preparatory and functional. Likewise, the fjordlike formation of the harbor (see 99–107, above) is best explained functionally: such an anchorage beneath the cliffs permits the rock-lobbing Laistrygonês to demolish multiple ships and provides the narrator a dramatic and economical way to dispatch most of Odysseus’ companions and all but one of his ships in one fell swoop, a move that the narrative shape of
The Odyssey
requires. Note that the variation in topography and placement of ships makes this a very different episode from Polyphêmos’ rock throwing at IX.524–92.

167–69
So I took counsel with myself:
After the last episode, Odysseus proceeds more cautiously.

169–71
No, better not
…: This is not only a sound idea but also one of the clearest resemblances to the Odysseus of
The Iliad
. In
Book XIX
Akhilleus finally returns to the main camp of the Greeks, though it has taken the death of his dear Patróklos to rouse him. Now raging and impatient, he wants to lead the Greeks at once against the Trojans, particularly Hektor, who slew Patróklos. Odysseus in two speeches (XIX. 155–83 and 216–37) manages to persuade the other Akhaian commanders (if not Akhilleus) that for the men to march out and fight on empty
stomachs is likely to spell disaster. The allusion is all the cleverer, since the present context is so utterly unlike the situation in
The Iliad
. The themes of eating, of life as long as sustenance remains (see esp.
Odyssey
X. 192–95), and of feasting, both wise and foolish, are central to
The Odyssey
(see also I.13, above).

173
some god’s compassion:
Although Odysseus had uttered comparable thoughts before (the nighttime landing on Goat Island, IX. 153), here (as with “some god,” 157), it has special significance, after the disastrous two first episodes in
Book X
and Aiolos’ specific description of Odysseus as being cursed by the gods.

192–93
Come, friends …:
A nice joke on Homer’s part, appreciated by connoisseurs of
The Odyssey
. As Kirkê will instruct him, he will have to go to the House of Death (543), which he will report in
Book XI
. (See also Heubeck, HWH 2.54 [on DC. 174–77].)

208–11
Odysseus can hardly mean they don’t know where the sun rises—it just rose (205). But since Odysseus and his men have no idea where their present position is in relation to Ithaka, they don’t know which way to sail. What Odysseus says is true in general: they are completely and utterly lost.

212
any least thing to serve:
In
Greek
, the
word
is again
mêtis
[193], some stratagem Odysseus can hatch.

223, 227
two platoons, with twenty-two companions:
In addition to Odysseus, forty-five men remain: Eurýlokhos and two groups of twenty-two each. Odysseus must thus originally have had in his own ship fifty-eight companions, since thirteen have been killed (six by the Kikonês, six by Polyphêmos, one by the Laistrygonês). If the other eleven ships lost in the harbor in that last-named episode each had a captain and a crew of the same size, his total contingent would have numbered just over seven hundred. (Only in Books X-XII does Homer name any of Odysseus’ companions, and then only rarely; ultimately, we learn the
names of four: Eurýlokhos here, Politês at 247, Elpênor at 610, and Perimêdês at XI.25.)

230ff
. If we were to seek an analogue to Kirkê familiar from popular European fairy tales, it would be the witch in “Hansel and Gretel,” who, as it turns out, has bewitched many children who are only freed when she is defeated by the heroes of the tale.
The Odyssey
diverges from the popular version of the modern fairy tale in several important ways: as far as this detail is concerned, note that Odysseus has no moral interest in freeing any of Kirkê’s previous victims and wins the release of his comrades only (and by persuasion, not by destroying the “witch”). Indeed, simpleminded categories of “good witch” and “bad witch” will not do for Kirkê or any force in
The Odyssey
. She is a goddess (634). Contact with divinity is always fraught with risks, as well as possibility for great rewards. It’s also worth noting that Kirkê never works her magic on anyone who has not of his own free will put himself in her power (note that immediately below, 255ff., the wary Eurýlokhos is
not
compelled to enter her house).

260–61
to make them lose / desire or thought:
This aspect of Kirkê is a variation on the theme first presented in the land of the Lotos Eaters (IX.91–109), a parallel underlined by Homer’s use of the verb “to forget” [
lathoiato
, 236] (see also IX. 104, above).

283–86
It is somewhat odd that, while Eurýlokhos witnessed the crew’s transformation into swine, he does not appear to report any of the specifics to Odysseus. (For other quibbles about the narrative economy of this episode, see 534, below.)