A washing of feet & a final feast

Some of the things I find myself thinking about in my reading of Books 19 and 20 are remarkable, though I can’t believe original. As old Eurycleia washes the feet of the beggar king, the truth of his person is told in the story of a scar; a mark of the youthful and impulsive Odysseus, before the years had left their mark. And, I imagine the scene of another King, and running in reverse, and he washing the feet of those who serve Him, before supping in their midst for the last time (Maundy Tuesday). In this context, I wonder at the symbolism that could be attached to the ritualistic washing of feet; so integral to hospitality customs as practiced in ancient civilisations – an intimate act of cleansing that respects, reveals and absolves.

If there were not enough Kings to speak of; this a much more pop-cultural reference: “The Lion King”. There are, I think, some fairly obvious structural and thematic similarities between the Disney film(s) and aspects of The Odyssey – the father and son relationship, the homecoming, the circular storytelling. Mostly, though, it was the “scar” micro-narrative that moved me to this diversion; in the epic, Odysseus’ scar is a physical reminder of how an intelligent, attentive man learns with time and experience from past mistakes, but in “The Lion King”, the envious brother and uncle is defined, redefines himself (in renaming himself “Scar”), by the bitterness and envy that fester in the wake of his mistakes.

book 19: the queen and the beggar

pp. 424-444

Preparations are afoot for the planned mayhem, but first Odysseus manoeuvres himself in position to talk with Penelope, who easily confides in him of how she had to “spin schemes” to keep the wretched suitors at bay, and how she literally did spin of a day and unweave of a night the promised shroud for Laertes. A pledge that must be abided by before marriage proposals could be considered – thus, at least for some time, she had been able to deceive the suitors; to only then be betrayed (the slave girls are really in trouble now!) And, for his part, Odysseus spins his familiar tale of Crete and Troy and adventures galore, and of the great “Odysseus” and his imminent homecoming; and is convincing enough.

And, then, the aged Eurycleia, as much a reminder of the past as the scar upon his leg, is sworn to secrecy. Penelope conflates dreams with schemes, and resolves, even in her choosing of a new husband, to honour alone the old. Odysseus pride in his “good woman” is barely concealed. What the morrow will bring?

book 20: the Last Banquet

pp. 445-459

Each wake otherwise to the new day. Through the night, enraged by the slave girls cavortings with the suitors, Odysseus is now touched by the weeping sounds of Penelope (and Athena doing her thing!). Telemachus is bothered that Penelope has not accorded the respect due to Odysseus – those fears unwarranted, assures Eurycleia. And the old woman is full of energy and orders her “troops” – this feast day will be like no other.

You are either with me or against me, he might as well have said. Eumaeus clearly is, and now the herdsman, Philoetius, shows respect and where his loyalties lie. For the opportunist, Melanthius, fate will not be so kind I fear.

Omens abound, and the suitors falter – hesitate in fulfilling their intent – and for the moment retreat, to instead revel in the preparing of the feast. One knows, peace will not reign for long; for so is it with the suitors. And, Athena must nudge just a little bit for them to return to their former spite, and only the prophet Theoclymenus sees the shadows fall, the writing on the wall, and makes haste. Telemachus is left to the suitors’ taunts and ever alert to his father’s command, and the beautiful Penelope sits and watches.