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\9 56
THE BUFF A N D BLUE
MAY, 1956
CONTENTS
Title,
Contributor
Page
Editorial
The :\Iirror W i t h i n t h e Self.
Alhcrt Bale.
'56
A Note on S a i i t a v a n a ' s Sense of B e a u t y
liohcrf F. Paiiara,
'do
On B r a n t Wood Hill,
Catherine J. Cavanauejh. —
Tlie Siy:n.
Edith ChnmUer. Ex-'08
^Meditations on a Lost Lover,
Xancjj JIutchinson.
'55
A;:tniun Descriptions,
Xaitcj! Hutch inson, '55
Paradox.
Mar re u Spencc. '56
All I n t e r p r e t a t i o n .
Gloria Lopez, '60
Odysseus in the Iliad,
(rcr.c Vcscovi.
'56
Part I
Part II
3
4
9
12
13
14
1-J
1-'
^16
1^
2.J
Lii-erary Staff
Billv J. Ewing, '56
Marven Spenee, '53
Helen Hegre, '56
Bernard L. Greenberg
Literary Editor
Associate Editor
Associate Editor
Advisor
Business Staff
Jan Repass, '58
Billy Pansier, '58
Evelyn Kamuchey, '58
Business Manager
Asst. Business Mar. -tger
Circulation Manager
Published twice a year in January and May, during the academic
year at Gallaudet College. Entered at the Post Office in Washington,
D.C.. ns Seond Class mail.
GALLAUDET COLLEGE PRESS
1956
C^dltona/
i/
•
•
•
Due to a number of circumstances quite beyond our control, we have been compelled to combine the two (Winter and
Spring) Literary Numbers into one. It is with much regret
on the part of the Literary Staff that this has to be done, and
we olft'er our sincere apologies to all our readers.
Lack of student interest has been one of the main factors
leading to this move and although our final appeal about a
month ago did not go unheard, the contributions still were not
as numerous as they had been in the past.
The increa.sed number of contributions from the alumni
has been pleasing; and, in fact, has been so great that it would
be possible to print an issue containing the alumni's literary
efforts alone. However, The Buff and Blue staff and the Literary Editor believe that the Literary Xumber of The Buff and
Blue should remain a student publication. "We feel that the
contributions from the alumni and the students should be
at least equally balanced. Because of this, the Literary Staff
had to pass up many contributions that were well written and
interesting. I shall give all the contributions which were not
printed to the new Literary Editor with the suggestion that
he give them careful reconsideration. I hope that this does not
discourage the alumni from sending in contributions; we are
always pleased to receive them. We also hope that more students Avill contribute their efforts.
This change is only temporary and it is hoped that next
fall The Buff and Blue can go back to its twice-a-year Literary
Xumber.
Again we express our deepest regret for this necessary
change.
—^B. J. E.
The Mirror Within The Self
ALBERT BERKE,
'56
David Lieberman slowly l)eeame aware of the daylight, half
opened his eyes, closed them, stirred comfortably in the trap])ed warmth of the bedcovers and was again sinking into sleep
when the voice of his mother brought him back to consciousness.
'Daaavy! Get up, Davy! Breakfast is ready!"
The boy groaned. He hated the thought of another day, the
dreary grind of household—school—meals—study—parental solicitude—neighbors. Did he have to spend another day in snch
a treadmill ?
"Daaaavy! Come on down, son! Breakfast is waiting! You'll
be late for school!"
" A l l right. Mom, don't shout. I'm coming." David grudgingly made himself ready for the day, and as he ate his breakfast
his miiul was full of bitter thoughts. His life—did they think he
was blind? Did they think he could not see how cheap and
humdrum was all this routine they called living.' For idiots.
School. Home? Nothing but a battery-recharging station, what
else? Was lie a machine? What was it all for anyway?
On his way to high school, where he was a junior, the grim
anger of rebellion in his seventeen-year-old mind whipped
into vicious turbulence. He groped for causes, oblivious to the
friendly camaraderie of schoolmates, unmindfid even of Norma
Jjcvi, whom he openly adored.
Darker and deeper David's unhappy thoughts seethed in
vehemence and profane incoherence. Mom and Pop, the cloch
their disguding church . . . Oh God, why was I horn to
such characters? . . . haven't they any minds of their own? . . .
those idiotic friends . . . Jews all . . . and they want me to he
one . . . the hell I will!
The intensity of his rebellion and hatred was such as he never
-i
liad experienced. In the midst of his mental turmoil he heard
tlie gay voice of Norma Levi.
"AYhy so gloomy, D a v y ? "
lie felt unreasoning angc-r at her greeting. " P r y i n g into
my business?" He felt sullen. "Keep your tongue to your.self."
Norma, humiliated and hurt, brushed back a lock of her flowing dark golden liair and went her way to class.
Class. The same dreary routine affair through the years.. .
idiot teachers prattling rubbish, wasting his time, getting paid
for i t . . . o n e class terminated... another beginning. . .same old
grind.
Walking homeward in the afternoon, Davy paused in front
of his house, looked at it silhouetted against the sunset, undistinguished and uninteresting. A tired, dull dwelling, he
thought, symbolizing his tired, dull years. Spiteful years. Sense1,-ss years. For what.'
The boy entered the living room and headed for the staii-s
but turned at the sound of a pleasant voice greeting him.
"Hello, Davy. How are you t o d a y ? "
Rabbi C4oldman was seated in the large armchair beside
tlie bookcases, smiling in friendship and welcome-home fashion.
David shrugged off his coat. " I didn't know you were here,
sir."
^
" I just dropped by for a call. Your mother—kind woman—
invited me to dinner. She is in the kitchen now."
David, without a word, disposed of his coat. Rabbi Goldman rubbed his plump chin thoughtfully, looked at David out
of infinitely keen blue eyes, recognizing the symptoms. The
wise and kind leader had not been a boy himself for nothing.
'' Something troubling you, lad ?''
"Like h e — " David caught himself, grimly subsided and
waited.
Rabbi Goldman was not perturbed. " S i t down, Davy. What
is wrong? You can tell m e . "
David remained silent.
" D o n ' t you tru.st m e ? "
No answer.
"Come, tell me. Y'ou will always feel better after talking
your troubles over w i t h — "
i)
■Who said I got troubles.'"
"Davy, don't kid me. I know you. I've known your parents
since yon were a baby. There's somethin<r botherinp; you. Tell
me, Davy, what is i t ? "
David fovmd himself obeyinjr. Somehow he conld contain
himself no longer. Like a raging mountain torrent, his pent­
up fury poured out from the depths of his being. Rabbi Gold­
man listened quietly as the boy voiced his hatred and disgust
for his parents, his religion, home, school, and everything in
his life. At last the storm abated. David sank back in his chair.
He felt at the end of his rope. He waited, apprehensive but
angry.
" W h a t you need is faith, Davy, faith—and a good look in
the mirror within yourself."
" W h a t do you mean, Rabbi?"
" I mean that yon have no faith. Yon are afraid to place
trust in anything: your i)arents, or in God. Once you do.
you will feel infinitely better. But, before you can truly find
faith, you must look into that mirror of yourself. Look and find
whether you are actually faithful to yourself. You must know
that if you have no faith in yourself, you are truly lost.
Learn whether you are being hone.st with yourself."
David swallowed hard, answering faintly, " I — I ' l l t r y . "
" F i n e . Some day I'm going to be proud of you, Davy."
The boy was quiet throughout dinner. He thought over
the strange idea of the mirror within himself. I must look int o
this mirror wit hin myself. How shall I sec or know, where
shall I find t his mirror . . .
A night of fitful sleep dissolved into a morning of mental
overcast, and David sensed with greater force than ever his
feeling of the previous day.
The boy looked at his mother, a woman who. in the eyes of
varioiis neighbors and acquaintances, was an individual with
a warm comprehension of life and luunanity, whose gray­touched
brown hair and soft, hazel eyes in her forty­ish face lent charm
and humor. He spoke not a word to her at the breakfast table,
and muttered a careless word of goodbye as he started to
school.
The afternoon cla.ss in History was under way when quick
footsteps were heard. The door ojiened and ^Ir. Lieberman.
6
distress and anxiety markinfr his nsually impassive face, beckoned David to come outside. The father spoke in a strained
undertone as he ran a hand nervously through his iron-grey
hair.
"Come, Davy. Your mother has had an accident. She is badly
hurt and she wants to see you. son.'"
At first the words did not register; then siulden panic .stabbed.
The boy followed his father outside to the jiarked car, slid in
beside the distressed man, and soon they were in mid-traffic
headed for the hos-)ital. The father was the fir.st to speak. "Your
mother had a bad fall. One leg is broken and her back is wrenched. But the severe head concussion is her worst injury. The doetor fears for her life. She wants to see you. Together we must
bring her hope and encouragement. We must give her the will
to live."
David nodded mutely. He was beginning to understand what
calamity was upon them. The image of his mother flashed into
his consciousness, and instantly he recollected his treatment of
her. His mental myopia cleared a little, and he longed to scream
at himself, at his monstrous injustice. His dear mother. How
many years had she sacrificed just for him, cared for him, helped him, soothed him when he was ill. comforted him when he
was hurt. How patiently had she borne the slights, the abuse
he had senselessly heaped upon her. How quietly . . .Oh,
Mother, Mother, forf/ive lue for ihinl-ing of you as I did . , .
forgive ine. Oh, Mother . . . Oh, God . . . I did not Tinoiv . . .
those were not thoughts of mine . , . What mirror had Kabbi
Goldman been talking about? What did a mirror have to do
witli him anyway . . . ?
Suddenly David knew. He was looking straight into the
mirror within himself, a mirror whose siirface had been brushed clear of selfishness, injustice and hatred. He was looking
straight at the reflection of himself, the falseness, the shabbiness
of his own thoughts. He saw his cheerful home a.s his mother
had tried to keep it happy for /(ini; his father, calm and understanding, who had provided everj^thing within reason for
hi))i. He saw a new school, the true purpose of its existence,
something for him, a place of preparation for the practice of
citizenship, something that would help him to become a man
. . .mirror, mirror . . . was the mirror speaking, or was it the
echo of Rabbi Goklman's admonition to be honest with himself? Where was the suggestion coming from having faith
in himself? Mirror, mirror . . . Look straight at me, myself,
David Lieberman . . . God helps those that help themselves . . .
mirror, mirror . . .
Involuntarily he began a silent prayer to God to save his
mother, to ease her discomfort, to make her well again. He prayed to become a good Jew, a devout follower of the religion which
had brought serenity and happiness to his parents, cushioning
them against the disappointments and shocks in the everyday
business of living. Over and over, in agony of spirit, he begged
forgiveness for his behavior. Gradually his thoughts sorted into
a semblance of order, and panic subsided into .deep contrition,
deep compassion for his precious mother's distress, and tender
yearning to let her know how much he loved her.
Mr. Lieberman, wise and kind, had not spoken during the ride
to the hospital. As they drew near to the building and disposed
of their car, David laid a hand on his father's arm saying. " I
want to do everything I can to help. I hardly know how to tell
you—
" I t ' s all right, son. Just your being here means everything to
me. Your mother understands. She loves you. and she will
know."
In that unforgettable moment the boy became a man. Drawing
his father's arm within his o^ra with a gesture of support and
encouragement, he spoke gently: "Come, father, let us go in
now."
And they walked uji the steps together.
J^
8
A Note On Santayana's Sense of Beauty
By EGBERT F . PANARA, '45
Towards the close of his aesthetic study of the sense of
beauty, George Santayana undertook the delicate task of summing up his own conclusions on the nature of Beauty and our
capacity for sensing the same. Accordingly, in the very last
paragraph of his book, entitled The Sense of Beauty, he said:
In the heat of speculation or of love there may come moments of
equal perfection, but they are very unstable. The reason and the
heart remain deeply unsatisfied. But the eye finds in nature, and
in some suprejne achievements of art, constant and fuller satisfaction. For the eye is quick, and seems to have been more docile
to the education of life than the heart or the reason of man, and
abla sooner to adapt itself to the reality.i
In many ways Santayana's thesis that the human eye is
the "perception par excellance"- in our entire make-up of
cognitive and sensory learning strikes me as being most intriguing. In it I sensed what seemed to be the author's implication that, more often than not, the eye is quicker than tlie
intellect (the speculative reason) and the heart (the seat of
feeling) in the perception of Beauty. Or, in other words, the
eye is more reliable than reason and emotion in any attempt
to sense the beauty of external reality.
It is true that Santayana has also stressed the importance
of hearing in analyzing the function of those physiological
materials which contribute to our appreciation of Beauty. However, he has repeatedly emphasized his belief that the sense of
sight not only transcends that of hearing but also " t h e lower
senses" of touch, taste, and smell. Similarly, he continually
asserted the superiority of the eye over the speculative intellect, inasmuch as the latter is dejiendent upon the former in
the perception of reality, or of things as they are.
It is true that Santayana uses this idea of the superiority
1 George Santayana, The Sense of Beautij, N. Y. (1936), p. 203.
- Ibid., p. 57.
9
of the eye somewliat arbitrarily—sometimes with rej,'ard to its
physical function, that of simple visual perception, and at
other times in its metaphysical role, which is to say the complex
revelations of the mind's eye. Yet, I believe he logically ex­
plained this, as follows:
When the time came for our intelligence to take the great meta­
physical leap, and conceive its content as permanent and independ­
ent, or, in other words, to imagine t hings, the idea of t hese t hings
had to be constructed out of the materials already present to the
mind. But the fittest materials for such construction was that
furnished by the eye, since it is the eye that brings us into \videst
relations with our actual environment, and gives us the quickest
warning of approaching impressions."
Thus, when Sautayana observes that " the eye finds in
nature. . . .constant and fuller satisfaction"' he is merely ac­
knowledging the truth of all human experience, since it is via
this agent of perception that Beauty is most often sensed by
man. In ex[)ressing his belief that " t h e eye is ([uick," raoreov.­r,
Saiitayana maintained that it is the eye, or mirror of reality,
wliich is especially endowed with the faculty of grasping intui­
tive truth. As such, the eye senses Beauty and appreciates it
(piicker than does the intellect or the heart.
That Santayana had arrived at such a conclusion, I have
no doubt, inasmuch as the greater part of his book deals Avith
a naturalistic attempt to analyze the various elements of our
consciousness and discover therein what each contributes to the
perception of Beauty. His method of doing so was primarily
scientific—utilizing, as he did, the facts already known to
))liysies, iihysiology. and psychology. However, he was lioiiest
enough to admit their limitations in aesthetic theory and
criticism for he realized, like the artist he also was, that in
classifying a thing into so many minute particulars the specula­
tive intellect sometimes becomes too deeply absorbed in the
parts and so loses sight of its greatest beauty, the Beauty of
the Wliole.
In this respect, Santayana's conclusions run a close parallel
to those observations once made on the subject by the poet­
philo.sopher, Emerson—with particular reference to those over­
zealous specialists who are so intent upon dissecting and analyz­
■■■• Ibid., p. 57f.
10
ing a t hing that they cannot a p p r e c i a t e t h e full b e a u t y a n d
mystery of things as they are. R e f e r r i n g to these specialists in
general, a n d to certain c o n t e m p o r a r y t y p e s in p a r t i c u l a r , a
poem of E m e r s o n ' s goes on t o describe how
". . . these young scholars who invade our hills
Love not the flower they pluck and know it not
And all their botany is Latin names."
Indeed, a n d to stretch tlie analogy still f u r t h e r , I believe t h a t
it was tlie eye and not the intellect or the h e a r t which communi­
cated t h e sense of B e a u t y to Emerson a t t h a t instant of time
when he caught sight of a beautiful flower in t h e same hills n e a r
his native Concord a n d t h e n a t t e m p t e d to reproduce his ex­
perience as simply a n d as spontaneously as it came into his con­
sciousness :
"Rhodora! if the sages ask thee why
This charm is wasted on the earth and sky,
Tell them, dear, that if eyes were made for seeing
Then Beauty is its own excuse for being:
Why thou wert there, O rival of the rose!
I never thought to ask, I never knew;
But, in my simple ignorance, suppose
The self­same Power t h a t brought me there brought you!"
S a n t a y a n a . too, seemed to acknowledge t h e same conclusion, the
futility of asking the intellect or t h e h e a r t to answer such final
questions as W h a t is B e a u t y ? a n d H o w is t h e sense of B e a u t y
communicated ? Thus, he s a i d :
"Beauty as we feel it is something indescribable: what it is or what
it means can never be said. . . It suffuses an object without tell­
ing why; nor has it any need to ask the question. . . It jnstifip«! it­
self and the vision it gilds; nor is there any meaning in seeking
for a cause of it, in this inward sense. Beauty exists for t h e same
reason that the object which is beautiful exists, or the world in
which that object lies, or we that look upon both."*
I n brief, it would a p p e a r to me as t h o u g h both S a n t a y a n a , the
philosopher, a n d E m e r s o n , t h e poet­seer, a r e in accord relative
to the probability t h a t , in t h e final analysis, the eye t r a n s c e n d s
both reason a n d feeling in t h e perception of B e a u t y . I t repre­
sents a most i n t r i g u i n g thesis, I believe, a n d offers u s endless
m a t e r i a l for aesthetic t h e o r y on t h e subject, i n a s m u c h as the
g r e a t e r p a r t of m a n ' s a t t e m p t to r e p r o d u c e a n d t r a n s l a t e t h e
b e a u t y of things as t h e y a r e would seem to e m a n a t e directly
from visual perception.
■i Ibid., p. 201.
11
On Brant Wood Hilt
CATHERINE J.
CAVAXAUGH
0 Yonth has wings all golden plumed.
And joy doth seldom Ihiger near.
We feel it in our throbbing hearts
And grudge each passing year.
But sometimes when we think we crept
Beyond youth's boundary line.
We glance aback, the way was fair.
And then for childhood's .joys we pine.
So when the snow came finttering down,
And made the hills aglistening white.
We recalled again our youthful ways,
We needed them that frosty night0 Yonth and Life, and laughter light
Under the shining golden stars,
O that slide from the hills of snow
Clear down to the pasture bars'.
And there is never a one to bid us s'ay
Or mark how we swiftly fly.
Save those ghostly blackberry brambles
That feel us whirling by'.
See the yellow moon comes creeping up
Behind the darkly wooded crest.
The gay lights gleam in the far-off town
And the stars shine out their best.
And the town lights frowned at the stars.
And the stars laughed to the moon.
The brooklet tried to break its chain.
And sing again its wonted tune 1
And when daisies come with tlowery :\Iay
We may see in their petals pearly white.
Part of our youth, and part of the snow
Over which we flew that frosty night.
THE SIGN
EDITH PEEL CHANDLER, EX-'08
Edith Chandler was in the hospital in Baltimore recovering
from an operation on one eye when she wrote this poem. She
said that she could do nothing but "think." This verse was
sent to Professor F. H'lghes. It was written with a heavy soft
lead pencil in letters about a half-inch tall as a result of her
bandaged eyes. He was kind enough to type it and hand it to
me. The imagery which she shows in this poem is clearly a
result of her "thinking."
Into the holy upper room
Poor doubting Thomas came;
Seeking the Stranger whom they called
By his Beloved's name.
' ' 0 Master, give to me a sign,
A true sign give Thou me;
That I may know Thee for my Lord,
To love and follow Thee."
And Jesus turned, with quiet mien
Even doubt He could understand.
With middle fingers pointed He,
To the nail-wotmd in each hand.
So for two thousand years and more.
The deaf have ever known
Our dear Lord by this lovely sign
That Christ took for His own.
. ^
13
Meditations on a Lost Lover
NAXCY HUTCHIXSOX, '55
I who know the (piiet way of life;
I who've watched and seen you live in strife.
Knowing not the meaning of true happiness,
Unaware of the beauty in nothingness
Coming from the tillage of the sod.
And quiet benediction alone with God.
I who've watched beneath the setting sun of day
Seen to gaze upon the plowman plodding slowly 'long the way
Leading to tlie Isle of the Xight.
Thinking not of worldly might,
Breaking forth in sudden bursts of song
Despite the labor of the day long.
I wlio've watched the boimding surf at twilight,
Seen you wonder at the sight
Of the seagull hovering o"er the wave
Knowing that an unseen Hand shall save
Those who forever the sea shall claim
The suicidal comforter of their shame.
I who've felt the beating of your heart
Against the breast of her whose love thou a r t ;
I who 've felt the impulses you have knoAvn
.Vs the years have o'er you ilown;
So characteristic was the power
Of the glory in that hour.
Then I slowly turned away
AYhen my lips coidd no longer say
"When my heart no longer felt
The bitterness of love, that had in me dwelt;
The years that I had hid in a cloak of sorrow
Without hopes for the morrow.
14
Autumn. Descriptions
NAXCY J.
HUTCHINSON, '55
Evening sky aflame,
A siuiset of purple heather;
The fragrance of the pine trees,
And clear, blue Aveather.
This is autunui — the Indian summer days
Have painted in multicolor the ridges
And Nature has portrayed it all
In Vermont covered bridges.
"Which still in silence stand.
Over thin, tricMiug streams;
As a man trying to span
The isles of his dreams.
J^
Paradox
ilARVEN S P E N C E ,
'56
Ye mighty towering, gleaming trees
Bending softly in the breeze
Dressed in a winter coat of white
Signifying a brief interlude in life.
Standing in majestic bonded silence
Serene and peaceful: A Holy Alliance
Posing in artistic silent duty
;Man unable to transmute that beauty.
J^
15
An Interpretation
GLORIA LOPEZ,
'60
IX MEMOEIAM
This page is dedicated to the memorij of the late Miss Gloria
Lopez, of the class of '60, who passed away April 10, 1956.
This sensitive essaij is the last composition she wrote.
"The world is too much with us; late and soon.
Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers:
Little we see in nature that is ours;
^^
"We have given our hearts away, a sordid boon!
This quotation was taken from the poem, " T h e World Is Too
]Much With Us,'" by William Wordsworth. It brought to my
mind an experience from the past.
Several years ago when I was very young I had never stopped
to see the beauty of nature. Xor did I ever bother to look or reason at how wonderful nature was, how God made nature, and
what I was on earth for. I saw the trees, plants, flowers, water,
the sun, the moon, the stars; I breathed the air, and saw a million things, but never did I stop once to ask myself, " W h a t
woidd I do without these wonderful things, the gifts of God." I
had always loved to have good times by playing games and going places with my friends.
One night it was difficult to get to sleep after such a long day
of rough play. I decided to look out the window. The atmosphere
was exceedingly clear on this summer night. When I realized
what a lovelv sight it was, I sat up in bed and then I suddenly
fell into deep thought. I saw many little and big things which I
had never noticed before. I gazed up at the stars, the moon, and
tlie skv, then T took a deep breath of the cool night air. " D e a r
God," I said, "Now that I have awakened to the beauty and
the needs of nature I promise I will never overlook all the
wonderful gifts you have given me."' Falling asleep with a
sifh, I thanked God for all His blessings.
16
Odysseus In The Iliad
GEXE YESCOVI, '56
PART 1
INTRODUCTION
This paper is a study of Odysseus, King of Ithaca, as he appears in the Iliad, and later on in the Odyssey. ]More specifically, the character of Odysseus is studied in an attempt to give
a complete picture of all the independent parts of Odysseus'
character taken as a whole.
A secondary aim of the paper is to give a comparison of the
personality of Odysseus in the Iliad with that of Odysseus in
the Odyssey.
Odysseus, Bepresentaiive of the Greek
Spirit ai the Time of the Iliad.
The Greek people looked upon the Iliad and the Odyssey as
their national bible. Even though the common people of the
Greek nation did not actually experience god and man relationships, such as existed between Athene and Odysseus in the
Iliad, they did believe that gods were present and in spiritual
communication with them.
The Greeks interpreted the world around them in the light
of their imagination. The stories (Mj'ths) that were formed in
their minds caused for such men as Homer to write them
down as he did in the Iliad, and the people accepted Homer's
books as their bible. Homer only put into words the thoughts
and ideas that were characteristic of the Greek mind.
"Entering the sphere of mythology facts become etherealized into
fancies, the actual value of which lies in the expression of the na17
tional mind, so that mythical and spiritual are synonymous."i
Tliis does not mean that the Greeks allowed their imagination
to edit their reality. On the contrary, the Greeks only went so
far as to offer sacrifices, and to perform certain other external
religious rituals, none of which took up more than a fraction of
their time. It is enough to say that they loved to think about
imponderables, but their moral life was little affected by their
lofty speculations.
" The Greeks accepted life as it really was, without embellishment. They faced facts, accepted them, and ordered their world
according to those facts. For this reason the Greek people were
not deeply bothered by questions of immortality, or the evils of
life on earth. Rather they loved their world and the beauty
they found in it. They gloried in life. To them life could not
possibly be just a temporary, pointless, and insvifferable existence, a way station on the road to a beautiful life in a figurative
Heaven or Utopia.
The Greek world, then, was one in which a citizen had to be
practical and industrious; a man of many talents who matterof-factly depended on himself for supplying his physical and
intellectual needs.
Pericles .stated this truth clearly when he said to the Athenians at the height of their greatness. . . .
"To sum up. . .1 say that Athens is the school of Greece and that
the individual Athenian in his own person seems to have the power
of adapting himself to the most varied forms of action with the
utmost versatility and grace."-
In the Iliad it is Odysseus who best represented the versatile
Athenian individual Pericles spoke of. Although he was used at
times in the Iliad to express Homer's love for Kings, Odysseus
was nevertheless the man most vei-satile of all, never at a loss,
with an answer to every problem that confronted him. Odysseus
typified the delicate and subtle spirit of the Greeks.
The Greeks were also followers of the Socratic view: "Know
Thyself.'' Again, in the Iliad, it was Odysseus who really
knew himself because he had tasted deeply of life's experi1 Symond, John Addington, Studies of the Greek Poets, p. 88.
- Hamilton, Edith, The Greek Way to Western Civilization, p. 82.
18
enees. I n this respect he represented the r4reek spirit at the time
of the7//flf?—a spirit which always loved to test and experiment
and experience anything that life had to offer.
Finally it was Odysseus who brought to mind Plato's description of the soul of man, a description derived from his "Parable
of the Chariot." At first sight, an explanation of the soul seems
too impractical to fit into an analysis of the Greek spirit. But
at second sight it seems that Plato had Odysseus (or rather the
type of man Odysseus symbolized) in mind when he said that
the soul was divided into three parts: the rational side, which
governs the whole soul: the spiritual side, which fights the
battles: and the appetitive side, the part that trains tlie natural
desires to moderation.
Odysseus showed in all of his actions during the Iliad his
love for reason, battle, and temperance . He represented people
who did not feel divided within themselves, but felt themselves
to be fully alive. They lived accordingly.
Odi/sseus in Relation to Agamemnon,
Achilles, and Nestor.
"Whenever there was an important council among the elders
and chiefs, Odysseus was in the midst of it. expressing his
thoughts. Tn major battles, Odj'sseus was always in the front
lines. "When a matter of diplomacy had to be taken care of.
Odysseus was the one to do it.
"With all of the liigh points of the. Iliad—Achilles'
quarrel
with Agamemnon; the defeat of the Greeks which followed this
quarrel: Achilles' reconciliation with his comrades: the funeral
of Patrocles: and the burial of Hector—Odysseus was direetly
or indirectly connected except for the burial of Hector.
This means that Odysseus had a far more important role than
is generally thought. His relation to Agamemnon. Achilles, and
Xestor shows .just what that importance was.
There existed no real conflict between Odysseus and King
Agamemnon. There were two or three occasions in the Iliad
where Agamemnon and Odysseus did have a divergence of
opinion, but they were only brief clashes, not a sustained
struggle between the two for mastery.
"When tliey did disagree, it was always Agamenuion who was
19
humbled by Odj-sseus. He accepted stinging rebukes from Odysseus, admitted that he was wrong, oinfered profuse apologies,
and tried hard to conciliate Odysseus.
Agamemnon's obsequious attitude toward Odysseus was most
strikingly shown when Agamemnon proposed to his council that
they stop fighting against the Trojans and set sail for home.
Odysseus heard these words, then spat out his answer to Agamemnon. . . .
"Curse you Atreides! What a saying to let slip between your
teeth!. . .What you said just now seems to me simple nonsense
. . . your plan will destroy us, most potent captain!""'
Agamemnon did not even take the trouble to defend his words,
but submitted meekly to the bawling out Odysseus gave him.
"Oh, Odysseus; You have cut me to the heart by that cruel reproach . . . I only wish someone could tell us of a better motion."*
Agamemnon was a weak leader. He knew this, but would not
admit it. His personal glory and self-esteem depended on the
outcome of the war and he made sure that Odysseus remained
his " f r i e n d " as well as his chieftain. Odysseus was known,
feared and respected by the warriors and the other leaders, and
they would have followed him sooner than they would have
followed Agamemnon. Agamemnon was aware of this.
The seeds of confiiet between Odysseus and Agamemnon were
there, but Agamemnon never permitted them to grow.
Odysseus and Achilles came into direct contact only three
times in the Iliad. Each meeting held no special significance,
except to show that there was only a mutual respect between
them.
Nestor loved and respected Odysseus. It was Nestor, as the
aged counselor of Agamemnon, who picked the envoys to send
to Achilles to try to get him to come back and fight. Nestor
readily picked Odysseus because he trusted him more than any
of the others.
Nestor and Odysseus were never at odds in the Iliad. They
had none of the petty characteristics Achilles and Agamemnon
were mastered by. They (Nestor and Odysseus) were the two
:> W. H. D. Rouse, The Iliad, p. 55.
^IbicL, p. 166.
20
men who did more for the Achaian cause than any other Acha­
ian in the Iliad, including Achilles.
Odysseus—His Courage and
Physical Great ness
A few words that can be used to describe Odysseus Laertiades
as he appeared in the Iliad are: brave, intelligent, dependable,
persuasive, active, blunt, tactful, forcefid, and wise.
Like a chameleon that changes the color of its skin according
to its mood or surrounding conditions, so does Odysseus become
a different type of person whenever his mood changes, or wlien­
ever circumstances favor alteration.
Physically, Odysseus was not very attractive. King Priam and
Antenor, one of the eldest wisemen of Troy, both described
him in derogatory terms.
Antenor said Odysseus looked like a surly, stupid fellow, with
a sheepish look about him.
Priam thought Odysseus looked like a castrated Bam.
" . . . His arms lie on the ground and he is patroling the ranks
like a tame wether; indeed, he looks like a thick­fleeced ram march­
ing through a flock of white ewes.""
Odysseus' looks may not have been pretty, but his physical
strength and endurance were superior.
Odysseus competed with Aias and other atldetes in the games
that were held at the funeral of Patrocles. First, he raced
against Aias and Antilochos, son of Nestor. Later he wrestled
with Aias.
Odysseus won the foot race, although to do so he had to call
upon the goddess Athene to aid him. Aias had been winning
the race when Odysseus asked Athene for help. Athene tripped
Aias, and Odysseus came in first.
Odysseus' victory over Aias was excellent and very excep­
tional because Aias was called iuA­incible, a tower of strength
and endurance. Besides that, Odysseus was much older than
Aias.
Odysseus won the wrestling match, too. He did not throw
Aias, but in drawing with him he won a moral victory, for Aias
■>Ibid., p . 278.
21
was consid ered
great.
invincible.
Od ysseus' physical courage was
"Their bod ies looked like a pair of baulks which a build er leans
together to hold up a high- roof . . . but Od ysseus could not bring
his man d own, nor could Aias, for Od ysseus was too strong."''
There were other times when Od ysseus was very brave and
courageous. It was d uring these times that the Aehaians were
being d riven about like sheep, and they were in need of strong
leadership. Od ysseus rallied them.
"Now had been ruin utter and d esperate, and the Aehaians had
been routed and rolled back upon their ships, but for Od ysseus.
He called to Diomed es 'Tyd eid es! what's the matter with you and
me? Have we forgotten how to fight? Come here, you laggard ,
stand by me. It will be a shame ind eed if Hector takes our
ships."'
And another time Od ysseus and Diomed es rallied the Trojans
when both men were wound ed . Hector again ad vanced , d riving
the Aehaians against their ships. It was Od ysseus, together with
Diomedes and Agamemnon who
" . . . marshaled them in spite of their wound s, and went about
everywhere changing the gear."^
The most striking example of Od ysseus' courage and bravery
occurred when he was surround ed by the Trojans.
Diomedes was wound ed first, and retired to the ships. The
other Aehaians were afraid , so they retreated . Od ysseus was left
alone. The Trojans surround ed Od ysseus, but he d id not become
panicky. He stood where he was and searched his soul.
"This is bad business. What will become of me? If I show fear and
run away from this mob, that is bad enough. But what's the use
of such arguments? I know only coward s vanish out of the battle,
but a brave man must stand his ground and either kill or be
killed.'"'
llie Other Sides of Odysseus
An interpretation of Od ysseus' actions may show that he was
truly "never at a loss," and that he had an answer for every
''■Ibid., p.
'/6i"d., p.
sjbid., p.
9/6irf., p.
09
43.
278.
171.
133.
situation, hut this does not necessarily mean that he always had
the right answers.
Some of the things he does in the Iliad made it obvious that
Odysseus did not have a clear conception of justice. His sense
of Justice was relative, not absolute.
This inconsistency was typical of Odysseus. One day he was
a brave warrior urging his men to fight hard, for no other
reason than that they were in the right, and that much glory
and honor would be theirs. Then he could turn around and
browbeat the warriors and tell them that they counted for nothing, that they had no say-so at all about what the council
decided. .
AVheii Ody.sseus and Diomedes Avent to spy on Hector's camp
they caught Dolon, Hector's spy.
Dolon, under the impression that he would be spared if he
cooperated with Odysseus, told everything he knew: Hector's
plans, the prize Dolon was to receive for spying, and where the
armour was located in Hector's camp.
Then Odysseus wordlessly watched as Diomedes ran his
sword through Dolon's neck, killing him.
Xot only was Odysseus treacherous to Dolon, but he was also
mercilessly arrogant. AVhen Dolon revealed that Hector had
agreed to give him the horses of Achilles as a prize for spying,
Odysseus smiled (the only time he smiled throughout the Iliad)
and contemptuously mocked Dolon.
Odysseus was also capable of callousness. After he slew
Slocos (Socos) the Trojan, Odysseus could not resist standing
over the dead body and gloating over his killing.
"There, Socos Hippasides! Death has been too quick for you, and
you could not escape. Poor fool! Your father and your mother
shall not close your eyes in death . . . But when I die, my people
will give me honourable funeral."*'^
Odj'sseus also had a practical side to his personality. When
Odj'sseus spoke to the Achaians after Achilles had rejoined
them .he disagreed with Achilles that they should rush into
the battle immediately. Instead, he told them. . .
"Wait a bit, Achilles—we know your quality, but do not drive out
the army to battle fasting . . . But after plenty of food and wine
i»Ibid., p. 134.
23
a man can fight all day; his heart is brave, his limbs are not
weary. "11
•■ ^
There are two other roles Odyssens plaj'ed t h a t are­^jworth
mentioning. The first is t h a t of a dignified, clear­reasoning
diplomat, forceful a n d polished. The second is t h a t of a rough­
speaking, overbearing dictator.
As tlie diplomat, Odys?eus spoke with the men of i m p o r t a n c e :
princes a n d chieftains. H e used flattering subtle words, care­
fully chosen and convincingly spoken. This h a p p e n e d when
Odysseus t r i e d to convince the Achaians to r e m a i n at T r o y to
fight.
"How is this, my dear sir? I would not think of threats as if you
were a coward, but do sit down and make the others do the same
. . . A royal prince has a high temper! His honor is from Zeus
all wise cares for him."i­
These w o r d s implied t h a t Odysseus was appealing to the
princes first, because they were the leaders, the chosen few
favored above the common sort. W h a t t heij decided was the
final decision for t h e i r men.
B u t when Odysseus spoke to the commoners, he spoke
roughly, overbearingly, like a dictator whose w o r d was final
a n d could not be questioned.
"What's this? Sit still and listen to your betters, you battle­shy
skulkers! Muscle or tongue you count for nothing!"!^
A n o t h e r example of Odysseus' dictatorial, aristocratic ar­
rogance occurred wlien Thersites reviled Agamemnon. Thersites
was a common soldier, b u t he spoke u p w h e n he felt he h a d to.
Thersites appealed to the other w a r r i o r s . . .
"You fellows are all softies, disgraces, a lot of women, not men at
all! Let us make sail for home, and leave this man in the place to
digest his gorge of prizes. Let him see whether we are any help
to him or not."*^
Odysseus angrily replied to Thersites, a n d silenced him. . .
Listen to me, and don't make any mistake about it. If I find you
playing the fool again like this . . . may I no longer be called the
father of Telemachos, if I don't strip the clothes from your body,
strip off the cloak and shirt that cover your nakedness and send
you off to the ships roaring with pain after a good sound drub­
bing !"i''
11 Ibid., p. 231.
i-IbicL, p. 26.
i-^Ibid., p. 26.
lilbid., p. 27.
i-'Ibid., p. 27.
24
Odysseus In The Odyssey
PART 11
INTRODUCTION
The end of the battle of Troy, between the Achaians and
Trojans, marked the beginning of Odysseus Laertiades" wandering adventiires.
The Achaians became careless after their victory over the
Trojans. I n their haste to return to their homelands they
forgot to offer proper sacrifices to the gods for helping them
triumph at Troy. Consequently, the gods took revenge. They
caused the Achaians much trouble.
Of all the Achaians punished by the gods, Odysseus and his
men were the mast sorely treated. Their punishment was prolonged much longer than tliat of the other Achaians. In the
course of their trials the men of Odysseus perished. "When
Odysseus set foot on his native land again, after long years pf
suffering, he was a changed man, having only a slight resemblance to the Odysseus who commanded armies at Troy.
In the Odyssey, Odysseus' character underwent a metamorphosis. xVfter each of his " t r i a l s " he lost a part of his old self.
The change was not rapid, but gradual, subtle, like the physical
and mental letdown that little by little overtakes the boxer who
is past his peak, but who yet tries to carry on as before when
he was in his prime.
The change in Odysseus applies to his total personality,
not just to a physical or mental change.
CONTHAST AND SIMILARITIES
OF ODYSSEUS
IN THE ILIAD AND IN THE
ODYSSEY
SIMILARITIES
Many of the basic characteristics that Odysseus had in the
Iliad were also his in the Odyssey.
25
I n t h e Odyxscy he was still as much of a diplomat a n d persuasive speaker, as he was in the Iliad.
An example of Odysseus" diplomatic bent a n d his persuasive
eloquence occurred when Odysseus was i n Hades. There he
met the spirit of Aias, t h e noble a n d great fighter against Troy.
Aias was resentful of Odysseus when t h e y fought a t Troy
because Odys-seus was given the a r m o r of Achilles. Aias took
this as a jiersonal affront, a n d consequentlj- he e s t r a n g e d himself from Odysseus.
Seeing his spirit in H a d e s , Odysseus was t r y i n g to
a reconciliation with Aias a n d he said to him
effect
"Alias, .^reat son of a great father! Were you never to forget
your anger against me for those accursed arms, not even in death?
That prize was a disaster, seeing that we lost a tower of strength
like you. Our whole nation mourns your loss continually, no less
than we mourn Achilles Peliades. Zeus alone is to blame and no
one else because he hated the Danaan host so vehemently, and
brought fate upon you. Nay, come this way, my lord, and listen
to my pleading: master your passion and your proud temper,"'
A g a i n . Odysseus' tact a n d skillful speech were especially in
evidence w h e n he appealed to Xaiisieaa, the y o u n g P h a i a c i a n
princess, a n d when he told his tales to the assembled P h a i a c i a n s
i n the g r e a t hall.
Odysseus' words to Nausicaa were sweet a n d full of flattery,
a n d each one hit its i n t e n d e d mark. The y o u n g Nausicaa was
touched b y his words , , ,
"I am amazed and dumbfounded at seeing you, and am awestruck
at the thought of touching your knees.'"
A n d in the hall, when Odysseus h a d
his tales to the P h a i a c i a n s . . ,
finished
recounting
"All were silent as if spellbound in the shadowey hall,"-'>
I n other res]>ects, Odysseus was very m u c h like his old self
in the Iliad, in the sense t h a t he still Avas ciuming, boastful,
ruthless in h a t r e d , brave a n d cool in d a n g e r .
The p l a n Odysseus devised by which Cyclops was blinded
by a spear, and which enabled Odysseus a n d his men to escape
1 W. H, D, Rouse, The Story of Odysseus, p. 126,
sjbid., p. 72.
•"/6jrf., p. 138.
26
on the luiderside of the sheep, showed Odysseus' cunning mind
was still a part of him,
Odysseus was also boastful in the Odyssey. Just as in the
Iliad when he gloated over the dead body of Socos Hipasides
and boasted of his superiority, so did Odysseus boast in the
Odyssey.
He could not contain his pride, glee, and childish excitement
after he and his men escaped from the Cyclops. Twice he yelled
his contempt of the Cyclop.s, and in the second yell he boasted
of himself as "Odysseus, the conqueror of Troy."
Odysseus' ruthlessnes.s in hatred was evident in the Odyssey,
especially when he slaughtered the wooers and the impudent
serving girls in his hou.se.
And, as for braveness and coolness in danger, Odysseus"
battles with the Cyclops, the Laestrygonians, Scylla and
Charybdis, Circe, the lotus-eaters. Calypso, and others proved
that he still had those qualities.
CONTRASTS
In the Iliad Odysseus more than once showed ari.stocratie
feelings toward the ccmimon soldiers at Troy. But in the
Odyssey there are several instances that show Odysseus had
changed his god-favored kingly attitude toward his men tb
favor one of close human nnderstanding—a responsible, compassionate attitude.
Perhaps the suffering and hardship that both Odysseus and
his men shared brought about this change on Odysseus' p a r t ;
and made him feel more keenly their feai-s, weaknesses, and
limitations, and their dependence on him as their leader. Perhaps this is what made Odysseus more charitable and concerned
over the well-being of his men, especially after each adversity.
An example of Odysseus' changed attitude occurred on the
island of Aiaia, where lived the goddess, Circe.
Wlien Odyssens decided to scout the island, he divided his
men into two equal groups, himself at the head of one, and
trusted Enryloehos at the head of the other.
Eiiryloehos' gronp fonnd Circe's house, and all the men
except Enryloehos were changed into pigs. Enryloehos hurried
back to tell Odyssens what had happened.
27
W i t h the help of H e r m e s , Odysseus was able to defeat Circe's
magic. "When he r e t u r n e d to his men beside the ships, he com­
m a n d e d t h e m to go back with him to the house of t h e now­
docile Circe. Eurylochos, still u n a f r a i d of the witchery of Circe,
stood u p a n d rebelliovisly shouted
"Oh, you poor fools! where are we going? Do you want to run
heads into trouble? Go to Circe's house and let her turn you all
into lions or wolves to keep watch for her whether we like it or
not? J ust Cyclops over again, went into his yard, and this same
bold Odysseus with them! It was only his rashness that brought
them to destruction!"^
Eurylochos was rebelling against O d y s s e u s ' leadership
a n d although Ody.sseus felt the urge to kill Eurylochos, he alloived his men t o hold him hacl- and .soft en his feelings.
On the fields of Troy, when the common soldier, Thersites.
began reviling K i n g Agamemnon, Odysseus was like a m a d
bull a n d he whacked Thersites with his staff. None of the other
soldiers would have h a d the nerve to t r y to keep Odysseus
from b e a t i n g Thersites.
A n d a n o t h e r time, on t h e same island of Aiaia, one of
Odysseus' men, n a m e d Elpeiior, was killed when he fell off
Circe's roof while in a d r u n k e n stupor. Odysseus' new " c o m ­
passion ' ' w a s shown. A f t e r he visited the kingdom of the dead
where he listened to E l p e n o r ' s pleas, h e said
"Now I beseech you by those who are not here. . . .Do not leave
me unburied; do not desert me."''
Odys.seus t h e n made it a point
E l p e n o r t h e p r o p e r b u r i a l rites.
to r e t u r n
to Aiaia to give
I n the first p a r t of the Odyssey,
Odysseus was just as
a d v e n t u r o u s and d a r i n g as h e was in the Iliad. This was proven
when he recklessly a n d needlessly called back to t h e blinded
Cyclops, i m t t i u g himself a n d his m e n in danger.
But in l a t e r p a r t s of the Odyssey, especially w h e n he was
a t t e n d i n g tlie s p o r t i n g contests of the P h a i a c i a n s , Odysseus
was no longer impulsively reckless.
Odysseus was challenged to join the competition a t the
P h a i a e i a n games. This was a challenge he would h a v e j u m p e d
^Ihid., p . 133.
■'Ibid., p . 115.
28
i
"
at h a d he been at the f u n e r a l of Patrocles. Instead, Odysseus
ineasnred his words a n d answered carefully, yet indifferently . . .
"Why do you say that, Laodames? You are all making fun of me.
My mind is more set on troubles than on games. . .and all I want
is to get home."''
Odysseus himself a d m i t t e d t h a t the headstrong, aggressive,
confident attitudes he displayed i n t h e Iliad were no longer
dominating p a r t s of his personality when he remarked . . .
"I am afraid of nothing but the foot race. Some one might beat
me there, for the sea has been too much for me; there is no great
comfort abroad ship, and my sinews are all slack."'^
I n the Iliad Odysseus was pitiless in his hostility. W h e n he
and Diomedes c a p t u r e d Dolon, the T r o j a n spy, Odyssens
stood b y while Diomedes r a n Dolon t h r o u g h with his sword.
I n the battle ^vith the wooers, after Odysseus r e t u r n e d to
Ithaca, he was not so pitiless in his hostility. H e h a d sworn
to kill all the usurpei-s of his possessions, but he s p a r e d two
persons among the w o o e r s : Phemios, t h e minstrel, a n d Medon,
the m a r s h a l , when Telemachos vouched for their innocence.
Odysseus was also m u c h more gentle a n d emotional in the
Odyssey, in contrast to his stern a n d dispassionate b e a r i n g in
the Iliad.
F a c i n g his son, Telemachos, after his long absence, Ody.sseus
revealed who he was a n d thereupon began crying for happiness.
The same thing h a p p e n e d when, after much questioning b y
Penelope, Odysseus finally proved he was her h u s b a n d a n d
she flung herself into his arms. Odysseus cried a g a i n .
There were no tears in evidence when Odysseus met his
father, but Odysseus wa.s deeply s t i r r e d b y sight of t h e old man
he loved so much, a n d Odysseus' . . .
"Heart was wrung, and bitter passion pressed through his
nostrils as he looked upon his dear father. He made one spring
at him and threw his arms around the old man, and kissed him..."-'
Odysseus, also c o n s t a n t l y d u r i n g a c e r t a i n period shed t e a r s
while on Calypso's i s l a n d ; and a g a i n in Phaiaeia Avhen the
«Ibid., p. 85.
sibid., p. 87.
»Ibid., p. 251.
29
minstrel began to sing the song of the (luarrel of Odysseus
and Achilles, Odysseus could not keep back his tears.
ODYSSEUS, AS A PROJECTIOX OF THE
^YISHES,
PASSION AND HOPES OF ALL
MANKIND
In the Odyssey, Odysseus is a projection of the conflict
waged inside the mind of man in the course of his battle with
life. Like most people of the civilizations of earth, Odysseus
tried to find meaning and purpose for everything he did as
well as for the things that happened to him.
!More often than not he was thwarted in his attempts, but
his reactions to being thwarted, those of fortitude and perseverance, constitute the basic characteristics of man in his
struggle for existence.
OdysseiLS had a definite goal in mind when he left the battle
fields of Troy. This was to return to his native land. Ithaca,
where his wife and son and home were. Xo matter what trials,
suffering, and hardship he had to exjierienee. he always had
this goal in mind. And. like most men M'ho suffer in order to
achieve a desired end. and who have great faith in the belief
that that end, realized or unrealized, justifies the means to
attain it. so did Odysseus have great faith that his goal was
a worthy one, a goal that would more than compensate for the
suffering he had to go through. "When he was relating his
adventures to the Phaiacians. Odysseus remarked
"First of all I will tell you my name, and then you may count me
as one of your friends if I live to reach my home, although that
is far away."'"
Odysseus showed doubt of ultimately reaching his goal when
lie said these words, but this did not stop him from considering
it a worthy one.
As a personification of human endeavor toward self-realization, Odysseus faced varied trials and temptations caused by
his environment. He persisted and finally reached his goal,
but this is beside the point, for if he had not attained his
desire, it Mould have had no bearing on his admirable human
endurance and ingenuity. In many cases, man, fighting the
battle of life, never achieves the goal at which he aims, but
I" Ibid., p. 94.
30
his measure is taken, as Odysseus' was, Z>i/ what he does, voluntarily or involuntarily, in the process of his striving toward
his goal.
ADVENTURES
IX WHICH ODYSSEUS TOOK PART
Odysseus And The Lotus Eaters. The first test Odysseus
faced came to him in the country of the Lotus eaters. Some
of his men ate the sweet-tasting lotus fruit which,made them
forget everything, including their desire to go home. Odysseus
had to use force to bring his men to the ships, and to keep
them there
Odysseus was well aware of the ett'ect produced by the
fruit on those who ate it. All cares, worries, and respousiblities
disappeared magically. It was a temptation for Odysseus, too.
to taste the fruit and slip into a carefree existence. But his desire to return to Ithaca was a more powerful force acting on
him than the lure of the drugged lotus.
Odysseus' will power and his determination to reach Ithaca
were unshaken by this experience. And, as a man running
an obstacle course successfully overcomes the fir.st obstacle
and thereby gathers more confidence and encouragement for
the remaining ones, so Odysseus' confidence and determination
increased because of his victory over the temptation of the
lotus fruit.
Odysseus was responsible to and for his men because he
was their leader. He could not allow self-indulgence to make
him forget his loyalties. In this respect Odysseus was typical
of all mankind who, at one time or another during the course
of their lives are faced with the same pi-oblems: to renounce all
responsibility and local ties in favor of personal gratification,
or to assume responsibility for the sake and well-being of others.
Odysseus and The Cyclops. Human against sub-human.
The conflict between Odysseus and Polyphemus (Cyclops),
is a projection of the conflict that exists between man in the
state of civilization and man in the state of nature, or, the
struggle between exponents of culture against exponents of
anarchy.
Odysseus represents man in the civilized or cultured state,
a citizen of an advanced civnlization with a definite code of
31
behavior. The Cyclops represents the wild unconforniin<r subIninian or anarchist, a citizen of the natural realm who considered himself exempt from the laws and codes that govern
other humans.
In his battle with the Cyclops, Odysseus knew that he could
not appeal to the understanding nature of the Cyclops because
he had none. Xor could he attempt to persuade and teach him
that his actions toward Odysseus and his men were abominable,
for the passions of the sub-human edited his reality. He interpreted everything that happened only in relation to his own
desires and whims. The only way Odys-seus could escape the
Cyclops was by ovitsmarting him.
If a rational being is deprived of a major physical organ
which helps him interpret sights and sounds and feelings, he
is not rendered helpless because his developed intelligence
enables him to understand his loss and to adjust himself to it.
He can minimize it in certain ways
The Cyclops' etfectiveness depended entirely on his physical
self. If something happened to a vital organ of his body, his
effectiveness was reduced greath' because he had not the intelligence to cope with such a loss. All that Odysseus had to do was
to cripple the Cyclops' eye to render him comparatively helpless.
The Cyclops, despite his great size and strength, was ten
times as vulnerable as an intelligent being like Odysseus.
Odjj.tseii.s and Penelope, Calypso, Circe, and Xausicaa.
It is not likely that Odysseus felt an idealistic love for Penelope, his wife, and that his sole reason for wanting to return
to Ithaca was to be with her again. Too many eireumstanees
involving Odysseus prove the contrary.
It is more reasonable to assume that Odysseus had an overpowering desire once again to be in his native land. There
was no other place which Odysseus could call home. Therefore,
it was only logical and natural for him to want to return
there. This was his goal. To be re-united Avith Penelope was
only one of many ambitions that came under the heading of
"Goal."' She was a part of Odj'sseus' life in Ithaca.
Penelope could not compete with Calypso in beauty. This
32
Odyssens frankly
him . . .
a d m i t t e d to the
goddess when slie
asked
"Is she prettier than me? I think not.""
Odyssens answered with . . .
"I know all that as well as you do. My wife is nothing compared
to you for beauty, I can see that for myself."'^
A n d when Odyssens a d d s t h e words
"But even so, I long for my homecoming..."'"'
he meant t h a t his homecominji: included much more t h a n j n s t
a consideration of P e n e l o p e ' s physical attractiveness.
To r e t n r i i to Penelope was not O d y s s e u s ' m a i n concern.
He would have retnriied even if he h a d no longer cared for
her. A n d . to say t h a t Odysseus w a n t e d to r e t u r n to I t h a c a
jnst so he could enjoy Penelope's nearness and t e n d e r u n d e r standing, irrespective of physical desire, is another unconvincing theory. Even t h o u g h Penelope
"matches the temper
Odysseus..."'^
of
the
astute,
endearing,
persevering
the idea t h a t such a m a n as Odysseus would favor this k i n d
of husband-wife r e l a t i o n s h i p is whoUj' inconsistent with the
character of Odyssens.
Penelope, the idealistic wife in the Odyssey t u r n e d out
be v e r y practical m i n d e d instead. The
to
"central point in her character is intense love of her home, an
almost cat-like attachment to the house where she first enjoyed
her husband's love and which is full of all the things that make
her life worth living."'"'
Calypso a n d Circe offered everything t h e y had t o Odysseus,
a n d Calypso even promised to make h i m i m m o r t a l .
The
temptation to snecumb to Circe's a n d Calypso's e n c h a n t m e n t s
was not s t r o n g enough to make Odysseus forget his wish to
go home.
11 Ibid.,
12 Ibid.,
IS Ibid.,
1* John
1-' Ibid.,
p. 63.
p. 63.
p. 63.
Addington Symonds, Studies
p. 12.^;
of the Greek Poets, p. 128.
33
Doubtless, Odyssevis enjoyed his relationships with the two
goddesses, for a time anyway, but he tired of them because
they had nothin<r to offer him that coukl take the place of his
longinjr to return to Ithaca.
The parallel here is that Odjsseus is representative of mankind in its fanciful state of dreaming; people who dream of
escaping the unexciting sameness of human passions, and living
with perfect god-like creatures in a beautiful realm inevitably
find that their own reality is best suited for them. As soon as
their "Utopian" life becomes tiresome they sigh and long for
their own environment.
Even Xansicaa. the tall, beautiful daughter of the King of
Phaiacia. could not entice or jiersuade Odysseus to give up his
intended goal and remain with her in Phaiacia.
Odysseus In The Kingdom of The Dead.
In order to reach his goal Odysseus had to visit the Kingdom
of the Dead. His main reason for going there supposedly was to
get directions to go to Ithaca. Teiresas, the Theban. was to give
him the directions.
Very little emphasis was placed on the talk between Odysseus
and Teiresas, and the Theban had only one or two directions
for Odysseus. The rest of his talk was of advice and prophecy
concerning Odysseus' future.
The high points in Odysseus' visit to Hades were his meeting
with his mother, and with xVchilles, Agamemnon, and Aias.
(Their spirits, that is.)It seemed that. Odysseus was making a
tour of hell in preparation to coming there himself.
All Ody.s.seus' noble friends, and many of the notable people
he knew were in Hades. His own mother was there. Odysseus
had to visit Hades to understand that his irue goal was there,
and in reality Ithaca would only be another temporary stop
on his way to his real " h o m e , ' ' Hades, the home of Death
which is the last trial for humans.
Odysseus suffered every conceivable hardship that befalls
mankind. But none of these trials were the nltimate in human
suffering, not the severest test a human being can be pnt to. To
find and nnderstand the ultimate in human existence Odysseus
had to go to Hades.
34
BIBLIOGRAPHY
Hamilton, Edith, The Greek Way to Western Civilization,
York, Mentor, New American Library, 1930.
1940.
, Mythology,
New York, Mentor, New American
Highet, Gilbert, The Classical Tradition,
versity Press, Inc., 1949.
New
Library,
New York, Oxford Uni-
Raglan, Lord, The Hero, London, Methuen and Company, Ltd., 193G.
Rouse, W. H. D.y The Iliad, Thomas Nesson and Sons, Ltd., 1938.
, The Odyssey, New York, 1937.
Symonds, John Addington, Studies of the Greek Poets, London, 1902.
J^
35