A Guide to the Odyssey: A Commentary on the English Translation of Robert Fitzgerald (21 page)

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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

480
At noon:
In the hot Mediterranean climate, midday, when sensible people seek shadow and rest, is also a time when spirits walk about. (“Only mad dogs and Englishmen / go out in the midday sun.”—Noël Coward)

481
In Homer, we have the further detail that Proteus’ seals are “well fed” [
zatrepheas
, 451]. Homer seems to have enjoyed a mild play on words here that cannot be rendered in English: the same form [
lekto
], occurring in the same metrical slot in both lines, means “count” in one place [451; Fitzgerald 481] and, from a different verb, “lie down to sleep” [453; Fitzgerald 483] in the second. Oral traditions on the whole seem to license such wordplay or paronomasia more than written traditions: the pun (as anecdote, not figure) is itself an exclusively oral genre, while neoclassical critics reading Shakespeare feel compelled to apologize for his “indulging in” wordplay, which was an essential part of the spoken theater for which he composed. Although the play on two senses of
lekto
is a minor example, coming as it does in this passage it provides an opportunity to note that, like Proteus, the singer is a shape changer.

493
Son of Atreus:
It goes without saying that, as a god, Proteus has long since identified the captain among his captors and knows his name. He only feigns ignorance of the god who instructed Meneláos in the way to trap him and the reason for his doing so; in fact, Meneláos calls him on this make-believe (498). This remark by Meneláos also puts Proteus on notice that Meneláos is on the lookout for further trickery.

511
Nile:
It is interesting that “Egypt” in the Greek serves Homer
as the term for both the land and the river which floods it, while the Greek form of “Nile” appears in neither
Iliad
nor
Odyssey
.

530
Many … died, many remain:
This kind of “polar” expression—that is, describing the two extreme possibilities or poles—is typical perhaps of all language, but certainly of ancient pronouncements.

533–34
One is alive
…: Homer actually has Proteus say “and one” [498] rather than just “one,” even if he goes on to describe the two “lost” during the homecoming (534–73) and has to be prompted by Meneláos (586–89) to speak of this third, the castaway. Fitzgerald’s translation has the disadvantage of suggesting that “Aias” is the other of two, of which the castaway is the first. For this reason I would have rendered the opening of line 534 “Now Aias.”

This Aias is not Télamonian Aías, who contended with Odysseus for the right to wear the arms of the slain Akhilleus, lost the debate, and as a consequence went mad and committed suicide (the subject of Sophocles’ tragedy
Ajax
). Rather, this is the Lokrian Aias, whose father was Oïleus and who attempted to ravish the Trojan priestess Kassandra, thereby arousing the wrath of the gods, Athena in particular. (The more common English version of the name, Ajax, is based on the Latin form.)

538–40
Aias here is the type or model of the disdainer of the gods, and his impious insolence brings instant retribution.

547ff
.
Meanwhile your brother
…: Proteus speaks of Meneláos’ brother, Agamémnon, who technically reached home safely (557–58) but met foul play there. Although Odysseus is not there to hear it, Proteus’ description of what went wrong because of Agamémnon’s open arrival is ample justification for the lengths to which Odysseus goes to disguise his own return. While the murder of Agamémnon is news, grievous news to Meneláos at the time Proteus tells him, we and Telémakhos have heard this story repeatedly. Orestês, the example ever held up before Telémakhos as a “role model,” appears at 582–83. At the moment of Proteus’
exchange with Meneláos described here, Orestês was only a prospective avenger, and Proteus is or pretends to be uncertain whether Meneláos or Orestês will kill Aigísthos.

572
The implication of “of either company,” in Greek “of the Atreid” [i.e., Agamémnon, 536] and “of Aigísthos” [537], is that Aigísthos killed all witnesses, even the members of his own retinue.

583
the feast:
Aigísthos’ burial, an occasion for feasting for Orestês and Meneláos but also part of the rites accorded even Aigísthos (see III.278–79, above).

586ff
. The news of Odysseus that Telémakhos has sought so long is placed last, for maximum tension. Even then it is excruciatingly brief (591–96). And although Proteus goes on to prophesy Meneláos’ safe return, he says nothing about Odysseus, no doubt a disappointment to Telémakhos but obviously very much to Homer’s purpose.

599ff
.
Elysion
is the Greek paradise, not some heaven but a field or pasture, its most significant characteristic being its temperate climate. This is by no means the standard afterlife destination of Greeks and is accorded Meneláos because he is the husband of Zeus’ daughter Helen, as Proteus explains (607–8). The only other inhabitant of Elysion we know of is Rhadamanthos (600; it really ought to be “Rhadamanthys” [564]), of Kretan provenance and inserted into Greek mythology as Zeus’ son by Europa. The Kretan connection may suggest that Elysion reflects Minoan conceptions of the afterlife. The name
Elysion
itself refers to the holiness of any place or person “struck by lightning” (
enêlysios
). (On this, see West, HWH 1.227 [on IV.563ff.], following Burkert for the last detail.)

629–33
It was customary not for the guest to bring a gift to his host—that might have seemed like payment—but for the host to exhibit his largess further by giving gifts to his guests upon their departure.

641–51
Telémakhos, with admirable but slightly gauche frankness,
asks for something more fitting for Ithaka. In his description of the “island of islands,” rockier than the rich plains of the mainland, one catches a sentiment which comes close to being universal to humanity (if anything is): namely, the love of one’s birthplace, however poor, simply because it is familiar.

658
a wine bowl
…: An even better gift, because it is the work of Hephaistos (660), the divine smith and metalworker.

661
Sidon:
Coastal city of the Phoinikians, although in Homer’s day Tyre was the chief center of power, as Sidon had been in Mycenaean times. Still, the throwback to the earlier heroic age is probably the result not of Greek traditions, poetic or otherwise, but of current Phoinikian formulae: 1 Kings 16:31 provides roughly contemporaneous confirmation that the rulers of Tyre styled themselves “kings of Sidon.” Hoekstra notes that in Homer, Sidonians “are always associated with craftsmanship, whereas the Phoenicians appear as traders” (in HWH 2.239 [on XV. 117–18]). The contrasting usage is striking at XV.505–17. The Greeks never caught up with the Phoinikians as seafaring traders throughout the Mediterranean. The Phoinikians established trading factories and settlements in Spain, on the mainland and islands of Italy, and of course in North Africa. Shortly after Homer’s time, the Phoinikian settlement Carthage would grow into a mercantile sea power in its own right, playing America to the England of Phoinikia.

668ff
. This is a remarkable and remarkably subtle transition from Sparta to Ithaka. (Analytic critics have thought otherwise.) The simultaneous action in Fitzgerald’s translation is indeed suggested in the Greek, but indirectly and approximately. There is no phrase which can be rendered “At that same hour” (668, or, for that matter, the “distant” of the following Une). Rather, Homer effects the transition by contrast. The final scene in Sparta is the characteristic Dorian feast, where guests supplied the comestibles. Homer then leaps to Ithaka simply with “but”: “But the suitors were taking pleasure with the discus before Odysseus’
hall” [
mnêstêres de paroithen Odussêos megaroio/diskoisin terponto
, 625–26]. “Taking pleasure” is a key term: unlike the Spartan guests who contribute their produce to their lord to enable his hospitality, the Ithakan suitors continue to consume Odysseus’ property, as Telémakhos has often emphasized, abusing the “hospitality” of their lord’s family. Fitzgerald renders their hybris with “arrogant lords” (672).

674ff
The appearance of Noêmon at this juncture as motivator of the suitors’ plots is delicious in many ways. For one thing, although it is unfortunate that the suitors learn of Telémakhos’ trip at all, it is ironic that these noble and arrogant lords had no inkling of a fact that the innocent Noêmon knew all along. The very simplicity of his character is what keeps him from realizing how poorly he is serving Telémakhos by asking Antínoös and the other suitors about Telémakhos’ return. (On a larger scale, the sequence of events begun here, which culminates in the suitors’ openly plotting the assassination of Telémakhos, prepares the audience to see and feel justice in the eventual massacre of the suitors.) The reason Noêmon now requires the ship he lent Telémakhos—to pick up the mares with the unweaned mule colts at Elis—in its earthy practicality contrasts with the leisured pastimes of the sporting suitors. This contrast may be augmented in our minds (more easily, granted, than in the minds of at least first listeners) if we imagine how little the suitors, shocked as they clearly were (683) at the mention of Telémakhos’ trip to Pylos at the opening of Noêmon’s speech (677), would have cared about the details of mares and mules Noêmon describes at such length.

685
the swineherd:
Eumaios, who will play a key role starting in
Book XIV
. The nameless reference suggests not only that all Ithakans, even the suitors, recognize how important he is to the household of Odysseus but also that Homer’s audience likely already knew versions of the homecoming of Odysseus in which the swineherd assumed an important role.

689
or his own slaves:
The Greek [644] distinguishes between
thêtes
, hired hands or day laborers, and
dmôes
, slaves or servants who belonged to the household. Antínoös has obvious disdain for both groups. (On
thêtes
, see also XVIII.443, below, where the other archvillain among the suitors, Eurýmakhos, uses the term to insult the disguised Odysseus.)

693ff
. In the face of Antínoös’ menacing questioning, Noêmon makes a straightforward reply, giving testimony to his courage, honesty, and loyalty to his lord’s family.

699
or a god who looked like Mentor:
Indeed it was Athena. That Noêmon is prepared to entertain this idea shows he is a pious man, in contrast to Antínoös and all other disdainers of the gods. Of course, Noêmon has good evidence for thinking so, which he shares with Antínoös and Eurýmakhos (700–702), thus making their subsequent plotting even more foolhardy and hybristic.

722
and trailed back to the manor:
By mere juxtaposition Homer underscores the irony that the suitors head off to consume more food and drink of the man whose son they have just agreed to murder.

730
they:
“Noble suitors” in the Greek [681]; this is formulaic, but particularly ironic here.

735ff
.
you:
In her anger and outrage, Penélopê addresses all the suitors in the person of Medôn.

739–42
Penélopê describes Odysseus’ impartiality as superior to the notoriously personal and partial “justice” usually meted out by kings (in the Greek, “divine kings” [691]).

750
you know:
Medôn of course had no way of knowing that Penélopê was not aware of Telémakhos’ trip and that this is the first she hears of it. Her reaction (753ff.) is not to one but to two terrible pieces of news. Her words (758–61) suggest that it is the dangers of Telémakhos’ trip itself as much as the suitors’ threat that she must come to grips with first.

758
child:
The relationship in which Telémakhos will always stand to his parents, and thus a keen expression of Penélopê’s
concern and grief, but at the same time the role out of which he is trying to grow.

771
a low murmur of lament:
Penélopê’s women join her in her lament even without knowing why; it is enough for them that she has reason to cry.

789
Läertês:
Now that Penélopê knows of her son’s absence, Odysseus’ father is the one male she can turn to. (Her own family is far away on the mainland, see II.56, above.) Given the suitors, it is not likely that the aged Läertês could have much impact, and Eurýkleia is right for many reasons to dissuade Penélopê (794–808) from this counsel of despair.

797–800
For the oath which Telémakhos had Eurýkleia swear, and the conditions under which Penélopê could be told, see II.395–401. Eurýkleia is indeed not lying.

803–4
to ask help from Athena
…: Not only is Eurýkleia sensible and pious, she is also correct: Athena will save, or at least help save, both Penélopê’s son and her husband.

806–8
the blissful gods
…: Just as Penélopê had ended her lament with an expression of concern for the entire line of her husband’s father, Eurýkleia ends her speech of consolation with an expression of pious confidence that the gods will preserve the family. Although it is clearest at the end, Eurýkleia’s speech has responded to all the points in Penélopê’s lament, first explaining why she was not told of Telémakhos’ departure and then dissuading her from sending for Laërtês.

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