Into darkness and back again

Hades can, and does, confuse – one place or many, a gate keeper or a god? Considering its place in the Christian tradition, is it synonymous to the notion of “hell” – that eternally punitive afterlife afforded all sinners? Or something more? Whichever – how unforgiving, and insufficient; for the ancient Greek god of the dead, Hades, and the underworld where he reigns, belong to a more complex system of mythology; essential to maintaining the tenuous balance that exists between the gods and mortal beings. Hades’ realm has room enough for justice, and for each soul its just deserts. To get one’s bearings right, here is a link to one explanation of this place where nobody wants to go and its inhabitants, and a colourful map of the underworld – and more.

Its performance having a pivotal function in Book XI, I should say that a nekyia is the cult-practice whereupon the shades (souls, spirits, ghosts) of the dead are called upon, and it is the rite which Odysseus must attend to in order to summon Tiresias. Necromancy may be a more familiar and encompassing word. And it is as the nekyia that this book of The Odyssey has been referred since antiquity.

book 11: The dead

pp. 279-300

Following the darkness to the misty land of the Cimmerians, Odysseus performs all the rites of the nekyia. Only then is he, first, confronted with the unfinished business of the fallen Elpenor, and promises that he will attend to a proper burial upon their return to Circe’s island. Enter then, Tiresias, given voice by the sacrificial blood; and tells Odysseus of the hard trials still awaiting him on his journey but gives also the promise that, should he resist all temptations, he may well return to Ithaca. But his return will not be unconditional, and he will find things not as they were; he must rid his home of those who cause trouble (that is, he must slaughter the suitors), he must make amends with sacrifices. This done, his people will prosper and he will have a long life and a good death.

And he speaks with the shade of his mother, Anticleia, dead from great sadness at Odysseus absence and his father’s ensuing grief, and who relays word of Penelope: “She stays firm. Her heart is strong. She is still in your house. And all her rights are passed in misery, and days in tears…”. More spirits of women gathered to tell their stories, of splendid lovers – gods and legendary heroes all – and sons (they only seemed to have sons!) born to greatness.

The Phaecians listened spellbound to Odysseus tale; enraptured by his prowess as story-teller and poet. Alcinous wonders whether he encountered the spirits of those with whom he fought at Troy and asks that he proceed, and Odysseus accedes to the King’s request. He relates more: of Agamemnon who tells of dying at the hands of Aegisthus and the scheming Clytemnestra, of Achilles, he who so longed for the immortality of a hero and would now rather ‘life’ as a poor peasant, but is still delighted at the news of his son’s success as man and warrior, and Ajax who does not speak and clearly holds a grudge, and those tormented, and Heracles.

Spooked enough by Hades’ ghostly inhabitants, Odysseus tells his audience how he gladly returned to his men, to then cast their ship again upon River Ocean; direction – dawn.

Where the sea winds blow

It is only now, urged by Alcinous, that Odysseus reveals his identity and to tell of the trials and tribulations that befell him and his men upon leaving Troy to find their way back home – of the complicated journey befitting a complicated man – and as willed by Zeus. With Book 9 begins the Apologoi – the story within a story.

Book 9: A pirate in a Shepherd’s Cave

pp. 240-258

So Odysseus tells his Phaeacian hosts, and still not without some pride, of his deeds of piracy, of the brutal sacking of the land of the Circones and the men he lost (through his own recklessness), of storms at sea and a land of seductive lotus fruit tempting his men from their mission of “getting home”.

And then the land of the Cyclops! And Polyphemus – a radical shepherd if ever there was one; a man-eater who tends his flock with care. The cunning Odysseus out tricks this giant, one-eyed son of Poseidon, but only after Polyphemus has feasted on some of his crew, and with the help of wine and sheep and a play with words. Not satisfied with the clever escape he manoeuvres, Odysseus can not leave well enough alone, and taunts the vanquished Polyphemus. Does he know not that he risks the further ire of Poseidon? A little bit too clever for his own good is our hero.

Book 10: The Winds and the witch

pp. 259-278

Odysseus continues his tale of woe upon the high seas – next stop the island of Aeolus and his incestuous familial troupe! But they treat the visiting humans well for one month, and send them on their way with a gift of winds – to be used wisely. Odysseus though neglects to share the secret with his crew who, after the affair with the Cyclops, are becoming more and more suspicious of their leader, and prying open the bag they let free all the winds; hurtling again their ships off course and then back to whence they had begun. Aeolus is impressed not at all and drove them away from the island, leaving them to their fate. For now that fate is Laestrygonia – a land of cannibalistic giants who slaughter then feast upon many, and only Odysseus’ ship can escape.

And the winds blew, and they came to rest in Aeaea, the home of the goddess Circe. With potions and wand she weaves her dark magic and one half of the crew become “pigs in a pen”! But Hermes to the rescue! His intervention save Odysseus and his men, and they spend a year in an uneasy truce with the goddess and her promise to help them find their way home. But, as ever on this odyssey, nothing is ever as easy as it seems and the book ends with Odysseus’ telling of Circe’s instruction that they first must go down to Hades to consult with the spirit of Tiresias; but their descent is preceded by that of the youngest of them, Elpenor; falling as he does to a most untimely (and prophetic) death.

Nymph & Princess, King & Poet

With book 4 ends the Telemachy, it is now Telemachus’ father, the hero Odysseus, our star (!), who takes centre stage; with his fate resting on the good will and intentions of some powerful women, but above all the continuing favours of daughter goddess Athena and her wily ways of influencing father Zeus to do well by the hero with traits of intelligence and cunning paralleling her own.

Book 5: From the Goddess to the Storm

pp. 180-196

We are introduced to a morose Odysseus on Calypso’s island – held there long captive by the nymph for eternal love’s sake. Years before washed upon her shores, the gratitude he may have felt for the sanctuary she provided has turned to a bitter indifference towards his captor. Her physical attractions and the gifts she bestows no longer temper his misery or distract from his profound longing for his home and wife – Ithaca and Penelope.

Nudged to intervene (by you know who), Zeus sends Hermes to command the release of Odysseus so that he may finally continue on his journey home. Calypso reluctantly complies, and her affections are indeed such that she ensures Odysseus is outfitted such as to bear the dangers of the high seas, though not counting upon the intervention of the forever cranky Poseidon who whips up the fiercest of storms. But, lo and behold, there is another “girl” on his side – the White Goddess, Ino – who drapes him in a magic veil to guide him through the dangerous seas to the shores of Phaeacia, where Athena hovers to keep him safe.

book 6: a princess and her laundry

pp. 197-207

Athena manipulates another beauty, the princess, Nausicaa, to further her rescue plan. Encouraged by a dream to do so, Nausicaa is laundering garments with her slave girls at the washing pools, when the bedraggled Odysseus appears and with words, heavily laden with flattery, seeks her aid. His plea is not denied, for Nausicaa understands the rites of courtesy due to needy strangers, and (now bathed and spruced up some by Athena!) is impressed by Odysseus’ beauty and grandeur. She instructs him on how he may find his way inconspicuously to the town walls; where at book’s end our hero awaits the right time to proceed to the palace of Nausicaa’s father, King Alcinous.

book 7: a Magical Kingdom

pp. 208-219

Enveloping him in her magic mist and leading him under the guise of a little girl, Athena ensures that Odysseus safely finds the King’s palace. As their daughter, so the royal pair Alcinous and Arete offer all due hospitality, their guest having a look and manner such that for a moment he was mistaken to be of godly nature. Odysseus reveals his story of being lost at sea, years spent at Calypso’s pleasure and Zeus’ intervention to set him free; only then to encounter an irate Poseidon and be washed upon their shores, whereupon their daughter saved him. After having eaten and drunk his fill and parried the King’s suggestion that he be a good match for his daughter – but still been assured that they will assist him in getting home, a good bed is prepared for the weary stranger and a feast in his honour is planned for the morn.

book 8: The songs of a poet

pp. 220-239

And on the next day there is indeed a worthy celebration in honour of the stranger – a fine banquet of meats and sweets and wines, and games of athletic prowess in which a taunted Odysseus shows too his excellence of person, and a very Homeric poet – the blind Demodocus – sings of the Archaeans and Trojans and of a quarrel between the heroes Achilles and Odysseus (Odysseus weeps!), of the adulterous Aphrodite and Ares, and later, at Odysseus’ request, of the fall of Troy and the Wooden Horse (and Odysseus weeps some more!). Alcinous, alert to all the weeping, demands that the stranger come clean – tell his story.

[22. September 2021] Odysseus weeps and weeps some more as Demodocus sings of the mayhem and blood shed as Troy falls, but it has come to my attention, that the sorrow he exhibits, the tears he sheds, can be interpreted as an asymmetrical act to the grief of Andromache on the death of Hector and her anguish about what fate now awaits her.

Odysseus was melting into tears;
his cheeks were wet with weeping, as a woman
weeps, as she falls to wrap her arms around
her husband, fallen fighting for his home
and children. She is watching as he gasps
and dies. She shrieks, a clear high wail, collapsing
upon his corpse. The men are right behind.
They hit her shoulders with their spears and lead her
to slavery, hard labor, and a life
of pain. Her face is marked with her despair.
In that same desperate way, Odysseus 
was crying [...] 

Book 8 [lines 521-532], The Odyssey, trans. Emily Wilson (pp. 237-239)

It is really extraordinary how a woman introduced as a simile for the state of the grieving Odysseus then takes on a life of her own in the verse. And that life could be, generically speaking, the widow who has lost her beloved on the battlefield and is facing an uncertain future, or it could be imagined more specifically as Andromache. Though, in the moment, Odysseus’ emotions are being stirred by his intense warrior pride and the desire to hear again tales of days of glory, perhaps I was remiss in not allowing some credence to the possibility that Odysseus’ reaction was not also a gesture of empathy for those who had suffered in Troy; after all he has come some way – and in more than nautical miles – since the Trojan war.

To Pylos and Sparta

Before accompanying Telemachus to Pylos and Sparta, I would like to mention a favourite book from a couple of years ago: the terrific memoir by Daniel Mendelsohn entitled An Odyssey – A Father, A Son and an Epic (Alfred K. Knopf, 2017). One could say: “As if everyone doesn’t have one those! Is in the midst of…” An “odyssey” that is. For each and every life is just that of course; however eventful, however modest, but when one is a classicist and estranged from an aged father and the reconciliation comes to be in a university seminar room and aboard an Aegean cruise ship then there is an added impetus.

Written with honesty and warmth, and garnered with some most extraordinarily poignant moments, I devoured Mendelsohn’s book in few sittings so taken was I by the fine prose. And it was not just the filial interactions between Daniel (Telemachus) and Jay (Odysseus) but the cast of “not just supporting” characters – mother, siblings, grandparents, uncles and aunts and “aunties”, cousins, students – making up a tableau of fellowship every bit as Homeric as the modern world allows.

I mention Mendelsohn’s book here because in the chapter titled “Telemachy” (as such are the first four books of The Odyssey referred to) he provides an interesting appraisal of Books 3 and 4 and the significance of the journeys to Pylos and then to Sparta intertwined with interactions in the seminar room and with Mendelsohn family history – enough myth to go around. And in this context, be it in epic or biography, two central concepts are explored. Firstly, nostos (ie. homecoming), in all its breadth of meaning relating to place and person. And secondly, paideusis (education), formally pursued or personal growth in the course of things – “lifelong learning”.

To Pylos and Sparta!

Book 3: An old king remembers

pp. 135-151

Greeted gracefully by King Nestor and his sons and men, and all finding favour with the gods, Telemachus, encouraged by Athena and growing in confidence, makes his person known and pleads for knowledge of his father’s fate. Nestor tells of the destruction of Troy, of Athena’s wrath, of the death of heroes, of Menelaus and Agamemnon (& Clytemnestra & Aegisthus & Orestes – the whole complicated story of fidelity, betrayal and revenge), and how the gods granted he and his men safe passage, but the fate of Odysseus knows he not. What he does know; is that a wise son should not stay away too long from his father’s land for lurking amongst his mother’s suitors may well be an Aegisthus. Menelaus, Nestor says, may well know more, and when all the rites of hospitality are over, he sends Telemachus on his way to Sparta; honouring him with his son, Pisistratus, as companion.

Book 4: What the sea god said

pp. 152-179

Arriving amidst an elaborate wedding feast, Telemachus and Pisistratus are granted a warm and gracious welcome; “hospitality” sounds so, well, medicinal, better is the German “gastfreundschaft“, a ‘let’s eat and enjoy and ask questions later’ attitude of acquaintanceship begging to be contrasted with our modern manner which is so often conditional on who, when and why.

Menelaus tells of the trials and tribulations of his journey home, reveals his love of Odysseus, later of his encounter with the sea god Proteus and what he told about Agamemnon and Aegisthus and Odysseus being trapped upon Calypso’s island. Telemachus is identified as the hero’s son by Helen, who uses her potions to hold back the young man’s grief and instead to regale him with tales of his famous father, especially that surrounding the Wooden Horse at Troy. Telemachus hopeful now that his father may well live, makes haste to return to Ithaca.

[631-847] The book ends in Ithaca where the suitors, enraged by Telemachus’ mission to find news of his father, make plans to ambush him upon his return. And, Penelope, initially angered at not being made aware of her son’s journey, is placated, firstly, by the loyal Eurycleia and then by a dream construed by the godly powers of Athena.