A Guide to the Odyssey: A Commentary on the English Translation of Robert Fitzgerald (35 page)

718–21
This is a rather obvious interpolation within the interpolation. Someone, realizing that there was a major problem with a text that put Heraklês in the underworld, since he was known to have been made immortal and taken up to Olympos, added these lines [602–4] to “solve” the problem: this is not really the dead Heraklês but a “phantom” [
eidôlon
] of him or of his soul. (This solves the problem somewhat in the way that the positing of epicycles made the Ptolemaic earth-centered astronomy fit newly observed phenomena.) It is a good reminder that for all the Hellenistic scholars who were eager to remove lines from Homer, there were others, earlier readers no doubt, who were prepared to add lines.

734–45
The last of the figures in the interpolated passage speaks to Odysseus. Note that he, or rather his phantom, requires no drink of blood to recognize and address Odysseus.

Heraklês performed heroic deeds, but from the Archaic period on he became increasingly admired in certain quarters for his fortitude, for simply having endured the labors assigned him, until later still he became the Stoic hero par excellence. In 734–37 the author of this passage suggests in no subtle way that Odysseus shares these qualities; to put this praise of Odysseus in Heraklês’ mouth (and in turn in Odysseus’ mouth) is particularly unsubtle—another mark of the crass inappropriateness of this section. In lines 741–45 Heraklês points out another parallel between the two heroes: while living they both made forays to the land of the dead, Heraklês to fetch Cerberus, Odysseus now.

747
but I stood fast: We return to Homer uninterpolated. To get an idea of how the passage would work before the intervening lines were added, read 67l/672/747b/748:

(It is also possible, though less likely, that lines 671–72 belong to the interpolation, in which case 746–47a would mark the end of the Aîas scene. Note that “Heraklês” in line 746 is not actually in the Greek, which simply says “he” [627].)

5
Mention of the sun (
Êelios
in Greek [4]) takes on a special significance at the beginning of this book, since Êelios will be provoked to enter the action all too soon (see 480ff).

12–18
Odysseus and his men fulfill all the requests made of them by Elpênor’s restless spirit (XI.83–87).

27
twice mortal:
Literally, “twice dying,” since entering into the land of the dead is normally permitted only to those who have died. Even though the word is based on the premise that Odysseus and his men would enter the land of the dead once again, never more to take their leave, there is nothing ominous about it: the Greeks seem to have been less uncomfortable about the certainty of their mortality than we are.

47 a
god:
Kirkê herself.

48ff
.
Seirênês:
Commonly “Sirens” in English. Fitzgerald is right to choose a more accurate transliteration, which both preserves more of the music and, simply by not being the all-too-familiar name, recovers some of the wonder and magic that must have
accompanied their mere mention for the Greeks. Homer twice refers to two Seirênês [52 and 185; Fitzgerald uses “two Seirênês” only once, line 218] but more often uses forms which would normally be appropriate for three or more Seirênês. Their number is neither here nor there for Homer or for their significance. The idea of mermaids, attractive but fatal nuisances to sailors, is widespread; having them sing makes the attraction stronger.

57–67
Steer wide …:
The method that Kirkê proposes to keep Odysseus and his men from falling under the sway of the Seirênês—and it is the method Odysseus employs, with great success (190ff.)—is an interesting variation on the way Odysseus had managed in
Book X
to resist Kirkê’s own charms and rescue those of his comrades who had already succumbed. There Hermês had given him the charm to counter the effects of her potions; here it is Kirkê herself who gives the protective advice. There it was Odysseus’ men who underwent the transformation and had to be rescued, here it is Odysseus who alone hears the dangerous song, his men who as it were “rescue” him (although it is Odysseus, following Kirkê’s advice, who renders them capable of doing so by stuffing their ears with beeswax).

68–71
One of two courses …: On some points, Kirkê provides
only intelligence. Odysseus must choose the course which seems best to him based on that intelligence—whether to go past the “Prowling Rocks” (72–89) or between Skylla and Kharybdis (90–130). The second choice here involves a subordinate choice, whether to sail nearer to the whirlpool or to the monster. It is clear that by lines 132–34 Odysseus has decided not to risk the “Prowling Rocks,” and this is no surprise, given the dire terms in which Kirkê describes them.

73
Amphitritê:
The sea (so also 115).

90ff
. Skylla and Kharybdis were traditionally identified with the Strait of Messina, which divides Sicily from the Italian peninsula—Skylla on the mainland side, Kharybdis toward the island—but
Homer gives no hints. We are still in the world of the fantastic. The “Prowling Rocks” (through which Jason steered the
Argo
) are usually located along the passage from the Aegean to the Black Sea.

100
lugger:
A ship with a lugsail; in other words, a rectangular sail.

103–15
Skylla seems to display certain octopus-or squidlike elements but is fantastically elaborated and much more frightening. Her name is connected with
skullein
, “to tear,” but there is a further etymology hidden behind “whelp’s” [
skulakos
, 86].

109
six heads
and 118 one for every gullet (the latter also 146): See 319, below.

121
A great wild fig:
The fig tree will play an important but perhaps unexpected role (see 552–64).

122–25
Kharybdis
might be etymologized “gaping swallower.” The latter element of her name (“-rybdis”) is echoed in “spews … up” (124) and “sucks … down” (125) [
anaroibdei
, 105, and
rhoibdêseien,”
106, respectively].

132–49
Odysseus’ question shows his concern to protect his men as much as possible, thrown into even greater relief by Kirkê’s response, which actually suggests that it is “the immortal gods” (138) who will be behind the loss of his comrades. The emphasis on Odysseus’ concern for his comrades, however belated, is particularly important in this book, which will see the loss and destruction of all the remaining men.

150
Thrinákia:
Traditionally identified as Sicily itself.

152–63
Unlike many Homeric numbers (see XII.319, below), there may be, or have been, a particular sense to the number 350 for Hêlios’ cattle: “From ancient times … the number 350 has been interpreted as representing approximately the number of days in the solar year. In the Vedic hymns of the Hindus … the rays of the sun are called his ‘cows’” (Stanford 1.410 [on XII.129–30]). It is well known that even today cattle are sacred to the Hindus and may not be killed for any reason, even to be food for starving
people. Sanskrit, the language of the Vedas and still the religious language of Hinduism, is related to Greek (and most of the other European languages, for that matter), belonging, like Greek, to the so-called Indo-European language family. Some scholars have researched formulaic and metrical similarities between Homer and Indic hymns, and it is possible that in the cattle of the sun (which one slays at one’s peril) we have an ancient reminiscence of what is preserved quite clearly in the Hindu tradition.

163–70
Kirkê repeats Teirêsias’ admonitions (see XI. 120–27). Teirêsias did provide Odysseus with prophecy (X.546–47), but Kirkê’s directions are more detailed and considerably more useful in plotting his homeward course.

173
up the island:
Inland, away from the shore.

180
the singing nymph with sunbright hair:
Kirkê; she is identified by name in the Greek [150].

193
yet she urged:
Kirkê had in fact said quite explicitly, “if you wish to listen” (61 [49]). The audience understands Odysseus to be involved in a slight fib here, presumably lest his comrades feel envious that Odysseus alone will have the pleasure of the Seirênês’ song. This least of Odysseus’ lies comes, typically, in a speech which opened with the idea that he was going to share with his comrades what Kirkê had told him (18590). It is characteristic of Odysseus that he would want to listen. That he “learned the minds of many distant men” (I.7) seems to be an essential part of Homer’s conception of his hero. On “curiosity,” see IX.184ff., above.

Modern scholars are generally suspicious of conceiving the actors in Homer’s epic as having fully-developed psyches, and of course they are fictional creations, with no existence outside literature. Nonetheless, consistent and credible characterization marks Homer from beginning to end, and Odysseus’ desire here is in line with his thirst for experience throughout
The Odyssey
(see also I.7, above).

199–200
Note that while Odysseus has Kirkê’s advice to follow, he
alone must decide how to get his men to do what he wants. His skill as commander—and rhetorician—involves knowing what to tell the crew and when to tell it to them (see 260ff., and esp. 289–90, both below).

218
two Seirênês:
See 48ff., above.

220–45
Again, note that there is no change from dactylic hexameters in the Greek (see also X.309–40, above).

220–21
In Greek, the Seirênês actually appeal to Odysseus by name [184].

236
Goeth more learnèd:
The appeal to knowledge is well calculated to attract Odysseus in particular. (For a very different “interpretation” of the Seirênês song, see IV.301, above.)

244–45
Like the Muses, the Seirênês know everything.

260ff
. Odysseus very consciously (289–92) does not tell his men about the risks to which they are about to be exposed. Lines 289–90 (“I / told them nothing”) are a very good example of the “need to know” policy of sharing intelligence (see 199–200, above).

274
a way out for us:
Yes, his crew might murmur, for all of “us” who remain, although some of “us” died there. It will be all too similar here.

287
smother:
Thick, impenetrable fog. The Greek here is much vaguer: “woe” [221].

319
whisking six of my best men from the ship:
Odysseus’ remaining crew is reduced from forty-four to thirty-eight—“one man for every gullet,” as Kirkê thought inevitable (See both 118 and 146. At the previous count there had been forty-five, after which Elpênor alone was lost, see X.223, 227, above.) All of this is interesting to note, but it is clear from the text that neither here nor elsewhere does Homer display any particular concern for numerical specificity. The frequency with which Odysseus’ companions are picked off in sixes reminds us that this figure as well as the threes, nines, fifties, and other numbers that appear throughout are traditional narrative elements.

346–47
Teirêsias … Kirkê … both forbade me:
Another fib: Teirêsias (XI.120ff.) and Kirkê (XII.150ff.) both spoke as if he and his men would land on Thrinákia. Odysseus clearly believes—correctly—that he will have a better chance of avoiding the disaster of which they warned him if his men never make land. He attempts to buttress his own authority with that of both Teirêsias and Kirkê, but his well-intentioned lie is to no avail.

357
Eurýlokhos cried out:
In
Book X
, Eurýlokhos urged the men to disobey Odysseus, although in that situation he had legitimate grounds to wonder if Odysseus was in his right mind (see X.476ff., above). After Eurýlokhos had time to see he was wrong, all appears to have been smoothed between him and Odysseus. A hundred lines above he had been one of the two men to carry out Odysseus’ orders to tie him tighter to the mast as they sailed past the Seirênês (250). His speech (“Are you flesh and blood, Odysseus,” 358–76) makes some good points, whatever the motivation—lines 356–57 are ominous—and it proves impossible for Odysseus to refuse the unanimous demand of his men (377–81). But he clearly holds Eurýlokhos responsible for the final, fatal rebellion he instigates (XII.435ff.). This characterization of Eurýlokhos as independent to the point of mutiny is not inconsistent. Of course, our only witness is Odysseus, who might have reason to minimize his own responsibility for the loss of his comrades.