Classics and the Western Canon discussion

So Telemachus and Athena, in the guise of Mentor, reach Pylos, which is on the west coast of the Peloponnese, where the townsfolk – nine companies of 500 men each, or 4500 men (women, of course, doing the serving but not counting in the companies) – are offering sacrifices of 81 bulls (nine per company) in honor of Poseidon. Athena leads Telemachus to where Nestor and his sons are presiding over the sacrifice. As required by the laws of hospitality, as soon as the strangers are noticed they are greeted and feted, and only after they are fed are they asked who they are.

Nestor tells Telemachus what he knows about the returns of the Greeks from Troy, but he has, unfortunately, no news of the whereabouts or survival or death of Odysseus. But he encourages Telemachus to proceed on to Menelaus, king of Lacedaemon, who may have more news.

Nestor insists that Telemachus not spend the night on his ship, but in the comfort of Nestor’s house, which he does. But Athena goes off in the guise of a sea-eagle, at which the Pylosians (?) recognize that they have entertained a god in their midst.

The next day Telemachus and Nestor’s son Peisistratus, take a chariot and swift horses and make the two day trip to Lacedaemon to learn what Menelaus can tell him. They arrive in the middle of a wedding feast, and while the squire Eteoneus wonders whether they should be invited to the wedding feast or sent on their way, Menelaus chastises him and tells him to invite the strangers to the feast. So they unyoke the horses, and again we see the hospitality culture in action, because first they bathe, they they are fed, and only then are they asked their names, Menelaus saying “Take of the food, and be glad, and then when you have supped, we will ask you who among men you are...” [4:61]

Menelaus expresses his grief at the loss of so many of his people in the Trojan war, then Helen, the cause of the war and Menelaus’s wife, joins them and immediately recognizes Telemachus as being Odysseus’s son. We then get an extensive report by Menelaus and Helen of what they know of the returns, but again no specific news of Odysseus.

We interrupt the report of this visit, though, to go back to Ithaca where the suitors have learned that Telemachus is no longer on the island but has gone to Pylos. So the suitors hatch a plot to kill him on the way back. Medon, though, has heard the plot and reports it to Penelope, who is of course distressed, but Athena is able to come and assure her that the plot will fail and Telemachus will return to her.

But if he does return, it will have to come later in the Odyssey.

Two points perhaps of interest.

One: there are a lot of names offered up in these books, and I’m sure that Homer scholars have done research into each of them. For myself, and maybe others here, the names, except of the primary characters, can be glossed over and the emphasis paid to the events.

Two: these books give us an excellent and quite detailed look at many aspects of Greek culture, not only the hospitality matter, but the manner of sacrificing to the gods, the sleeping arrangements, a marriage feast, and other aspects of Greek life. I find these as interesting as the actual journey that Telemachus makes.

When I read the part where Athena changed into a eagle in front of people of Pylo I've wondered why she did that. This action had a special meaning? Quite after this changing Nestor is sure that Telemachus had gods' privilege over him. Did she do that with this goal in mind (Greek gods have mind?)?

Everyman wrote: "But Athena goes off in the guise of a sea-eagle, at which the Pylosians (?) recognize that they have entertained a god in their midst."

Why does she reveal herself at this point in the story, in this way, to these people? As a reward for respecting the traditions of hospitality and sacrificial feasts, or to impress upon Nestor to treat Telemachus well, or both?

I was under the impression the gods, conveniently, preferred the bones, fat, and offal, to the meat and more tasty parts of the sacrifice. This seems to contradict that notion:

[Odyssey III, 9-11] They had just tasted the innards and were burning the thigh pieces for the god when the ship Pulled in to shore.
Lombardo Translation

Answering your own prayers:

Thus Athena’s prayer, which she herself granted.
Lombardo Translation

How convenient it must be to grant your own prayers!

But would not Poseiden have to grant it, since it was a prayer to him?

This exchange this made me laugh.

[Odyssey III,247-260] If she [Athena] would choose To love you like that and take care of you , { 35 } Some of those suitors might forget about marriage ! ” [ 250 ] And Telemachus answered him : “ I do not think , sir , this will ever happen . The very thought amazes me. It is too much To hope for , even if the gods willed it . ” Then Athena , eyes flashing , put in : [ 255 ] “ Telemachus , what a thing to say! It is easy for a god to bring a man safely home , Even from far away . And speaking for myself , I would rather suffer on my homeward journey Than be killed at my hearth , as Agamemnon was — [ 260 ] By the treachery of Aegisthus and of his own wife.
Lombardo Translation

David wrote: "This exchange this made me laugh.[Odyssey III,247-260] If she [Athena] would choose To love you like that and take care of you , { 35 } Some of those suitors might forget about marriage ! ” [ 250 ]..."

I visualised this as Harry potter irking Professor "Minerva." (Athena by another name.) Of course Prof. Minerva would stalk off like an annoyed cat plotting murder.

Apparently, some scholars argue this is a simile, not a literal metamorphosis. So her swift, sea-eagle like behaviour signals divine presence to on-lookers.

Some argue Mentor (the human persona) disappeared, followed by the appearance of a sea-eagle, and Nestor is quick to interpret the "sign."

David wrote: "Answering your own prayers:Thus Athena’s prayer, which she herself granted.
Lombardo TranslationHow convenient it must be to grant your own prayers!

But would not Poseiden have to grant it, since ..."

I thought it's funny that they were cursing the "clever, scheming, cowardly Aegisthus", while Athena is playing the trickster here, praying to Poseidon in outward performance, but privately taking the job and getting things done all by herself. In a way that's also usurpation, right?

Everyman wrote: "there are a lot of names offered up in these books, and I’m sure that Homer scholars have done research into each of them. For myself, and maybe others here, the names, except of the primary characters, can be glossed over and the emphasis paid to the events..."

Yes, checking out the primary characters (and Wikipedia will often do nicely) can turn up unexpected sidelights on the story. For example, the ultra-civilized (and elaborately polite) Nestor himself is the son of the hero Neleus, who is usually (but not quite always) regarded as the son of Poseidon.

In the Odyssey, we are, eventually, told that Neleus was indeed a son of Poseidon. This is interesting, and maybe ironic, in terms of the Odyssey, given the enmity Poseidon feels for Odysseus over another, but monstrous, son.

This relationship does not seem to be specified in the Iliad, however, so we can't be sure early audiences would have picked up on it immediately.

Even with that proviso, what is now known as "Nestor's Pylos" (as opposed to a bunch of other places named Pylos, which confused the situation all the way back in Classical times) was a Mycenaean center (complete with "palace" and tablets).

Thanks to the deciphering of the Linear B script, we even know that Poseidon was prominent among the recognizable Greek gods who were already worshiped in Mycenaean times: (See
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Poseido...
for a quick, although not comprehensive, run-down on the Mycenaean pantheon (the whole article on the god contains useful information, including his multiple roles). It observes that in Linear B texts "the name po-se-da-wo-ne ("Poseidon") occurs with greater frequency than does di-u-ja ("Zeus")."

Alternatively, there are also (rather late) reports that make Neleus the son of a certain Aeolus, who may, or may not, be intended as the Aeolus Odysseus encounters early in his travels (and enough said on that subject for now).

Beside other things I couldn't help but remark the following:
-both Nestor and Menelaos seem to accept the strangers with great hospitality, but there seems to be a little difference in their approach: where Nestor first feeds the strangers before even asking them who they are and wether they aren't some sort of pirates, Menelaos remarks from the beginning, while chastising Eteneos for not offering the right amount of hospitality, that the strangers don't look like dangerous beggars, but like sons of noble men.
This made me wonder wether persons that wheren't looking like noble men would've enjoyed the same hospitality. And although he seems to wait until the guests are fed before asking who they are, we actually don't know wheter he would've done that. He is in doubt about asking Telemachos wether he is indeed the son of Odysseys but before coming to a decision Helena already asks him.

Another thing I noticed is that, although the suitors are pointed at the fact that Telemachos probably has some devine guidance/help (the person who gave telemachos his ship saw the real Nestor after he supposedly had left and tells the suitors), they don't pay attention to that en keep on plotting to kill him. Is this out of hubris? Or do they aspect help from other gods?

Marieke wrote: "they don't pay attention to that en keep on plotting to kill him. Is this out of hubris? Or do they aspect help from other gods?"

There does seem to be so much foreshadowing that the characters are blind to or willfully choose to ignore. My only take on this is that there must be a deep satisfaction in being able to say, "I told you so", that ancient readers, and not a few modern readers relish. That and the fact that the unjust seemed to be plagued by these kinds of mistakes.

The suitors seem ripe for entire episodes of certain TV shows, "World's Dumbest Criminals: The Unsuitable Suitors" and "A Thousand Ways to Die: Dying to Marry your Wife".

David wrote: "Marieke wrote: "they don't pay attention to that en keep on plotting to kill him. Is this out of hubris? Or do they aspect help from other gods?"

There does seem to be so much foreshadowing that t..."

I think we are seeing here the kind of behavior that Zeus complained about at the beginning of the Odyssey -- no matter how many times the gods warn against some course of action, mortals will decide to go ahead with it anyway.

Or maybe it is supposed to be Fate -- an independent power which even Zeus can't overcome -- working itself out, despite the apparent free will of the suitors.

Nestor tells Telemachus if he were assured of Athena's support the way she supported his father, he would have nothing to worry about. Telemachus replies:

"My lord, I doubt that this will happen.
I am surprised you have such confidence.
I would not be so hopeful, even if
the gods were willing."

This elicits a rebuke from Athena:

Telemachus, what do you mean? A god
can easily save anyone, at will,
no matter what the distance . . .
(Wilson translation)

I'm wondering if Telemachus is experiencing a crisis of faith here, thereby incurring the sharp response from Athena.

He already knows Athena is helping him and that she suggested he go on this journey. He prays to her before he sets off. He tells Eurycleia a god supports him on this journey when she tries to dissuade him from leaving.

So why would he imply the gods have limited powers? Is he just feeling sorry for himself, or is he experiencing some sort of crisis of faith?

Tamara wrote: "Nestor tells Telemachus if he was assured of Athena's support the way she supported his father, he would have nothing to worry about. . ."

This is the same passage that I found funny in message 6 because the god he is expressing doubt about is not only standing right there with him, but also gives further assurances that the suitors are going to get what is coming to them.

I think it shows Telemachus is still teetering a bit on the transition from boyhood to manhood in a "two steps forward, one step back" fashion, but I also found it a bit of brilliant comedy relief. I can almost picture Athena saying "C'mon!" and slapping him in the head.

David wrote: "This is the same passage that I found funny in message 6 because the god he is expressing doubt about is not only standing right there with him, but also gives further assurances that the suitors are going to get what is coming to them..."

Sorry, David. I had read your message about this passage making you laugh. I just didn't understand at the time why you found it funny.

Perhaps another way of reading the same passage is that he is almost defying Athena to deliver on her assurances.

I agree with David that it's just part of his boyhood anxiety/ diffidence. Similar to how Telemachus casually said who knows if he is really Odyssey's son. When Athena magics confidence in Telemachus, THEN he announces Odyssey as his father as a fact. I see that as how Homer shows his transformation from a helpless boy adrift, to Odysseus-like (as in sharp wit eloquent) adult.

The same with his speech to Nestor, he suddenly speaks very well (unlike the suitors assembly) when Athena magically made him confident.

I don't know how that works, Athena (or the gods in general) just gets inside people's heads and they just suddenly "know" things. In 1.420 he said

The stranger was
my father’s guest-friend Mentes, son of wise
Anchialus, who rules the Taphians,
the people of the oar.”
Those were his words,|420| but in his mind he knew she was a god.

It sounds like intuition kind of knowing, not "this is a fact", he just somehow knows.

Athena can't blame Telemachus for being anxious if she doesn't tell them what's going on as she leads them through the labyrinth. She hides a lot of things from Telemachus and is more or less manipulating him into carrying out her scheme. She sends Telemachus out into danger even as she knows Odysseus is coming home (because she's strong-arming Zeus into pressuring Calypso into releasing him.)

This also reminds me of Telemachus rebuking Penelope for rebuking the singer -- ostensibly the singer speaks for the gods; and if the gods will mortals and heroes to suffer then so be it, he can take it.

It's almost like Telemachus expects gods to make men suffer, and willingness to embrace that sufferings is what make them heroes, and subjects of epics.

Benardete remarks, "Nestor’s narrative deals to a large extent with the issue of sacrifice." Book 3 begins and ends with sacrifices: "the opening sacrifice is the largest Homer ever records, and the closing sacrifice gets the most elaborate description Homer ever bestows." He adds, "Nestor’s palace also differs from the other palaces we come to know. It is the only one without a singer." Nestor's speech does not give pleasure or excessive sorrow; it lacks nested speeches or fine similes. Nestor also seems to uphold the justice of the gods in 3.130-135, when he asserts that certain Argives deserved their punishing homeward journey. Nestor's own men arrived home safely; he received a divine sign, and after a sacrifice to Poseidon never once the wind failed him (3.165-183). Nestor is then forced to account for the death of Agamemnon, and though he admits the deeds of Apollo and Zeus to isolate Agamemnon, passes over the actual murder and declines to indict the gods, though he mentions that both Aigisthos (after the murder of the singer) and Menelaos (in abandoning his doomed brother) make sacrifices. In other words, Nestor (I think Benardete is saying) was a moralist, not a poet; the story is pre-digested and interpreted by the "wisdom" of Nestor rather than experienced meaningfully in the telling.

Lia wrote: "It's almost like Telemachus expects gods to make men suffer, and willingness to embrace that sufferings is what make them heroes, and subjects of epics...."

If I am not mistaken, pain, is theme of this story. After all, it is ultimately a story or returning from a war and coping with that war's longer term effects and consequences.

The "war stories" of Nestor and Menelaus are more lamentations of grief and loss than they are tales of glory (kleos).

David wrote: "If I am not mistaken, pain,..."

I guess that's a round about way to say, Telemachus did not suffer a crisis of faith in Gods' power (or existence), Telemachus had complete faith in the Gods to make him suffer.

Lia wrote: "I don't know how that works, Athena (or the gods in general) just gets inside people's heads and they just suddenly "know" things."

I think this relates to the premodern concept that has been called (by philosopher Charles Taylor) the "porous self": the human psyche lacks a clear boundary demarcating it off from the rest of reality. Thoughts and feelings we would regard as distinctly internal or mental can be, in fact, divine or supernatural movements, which transgress all such boundaries. The emotions we experience are a part of us, but not in the same "buffered" way we would seem to intuit today. You see this all over the Iliad.

Rex wrote: "Benardete remarks, "Nestor (I think Benardete is saying) was a moralist, not a poet..."

I want to thank you again for introducing me to Benardete. I've read Joyce's Ulysses and Fagles' Odyssey before, I didn't understand why Joyce made Deasy out to be Nestor until I read that. (That Nestor thinks Gods divide men into just and unjust, and then reward them accordingly, turns out he's wrong, and so is Deasy, but they are both "privileged" enough to hold that kind of flat/ linear understanding of the world.)

Marieke wrote: "both Nestor and Menelaos seem to accept the strangers with great hospitality, but there seems to be a little difference in their approach: where Nestor first feeds the strangers before even asking them who they are and wether they aren't some sort of pirates, Menelaos remarks from the beginning, while chastising Eteneos for not offering the right amount of hospitality, that the strangers don't look like dangerous beggars, but like sons of noble men. "

I've been thinking about the hospitality as well. Yes, we see remarkable hospitality, but then the setting makes me wonder who truly had access. All of them live on estates/palaces with fortifications if the remains of Mycene are any indication. And I cannot imagine Nestor presiding over sacrifices to Poseidon without having some sort of retinue or bodyguard to protect him. So there must have been gatekeepers to determine who gets access and who doesn't. Clearly Athena and Telemachus pass the test.
I am wondering if this was so commonplace that it wouldn't have been mentioned in a narrative like this unless it contributed to the story.

David wrote: "If I am not mistaken, pain, is theme of this story,..."

You have at least one distinguished critic on your side, George E. Dimock, Jr., who re-edited some of the old A.T. Murray translation of the Odyssey for the Loeb Classical Library, and wrote The Unity of the "Odyssey"

Back in 1956 he wrote an article exploring the idea that the very name of Odysseus goes back to a root meaning "pain," and specifically identifies him as a "causer of pain."

I am familiar with the article because it was reprinted in the 1974 Norton Critical Edition of The Odyssey, translated and edited by Albert Cook -- I don't know if it is still included in the more recent second edition:
https://www.amazon.com/Odyssey-Norton...

Unfortunately, summarizing his evidence from the text here would largely fall under the category of "spoilers," and I'm not competent to judge the linguistic side of his argument.

“Your Majesty, there are two men outside, |4.24|
strangers who seem like sons of Zeus. Please tell me,
should we take off the harness from their horses?”

Is likeness to "sons of Zeus" a kind of common saying? Like a metaphor? Did people literally know what Zeus looks like so that they can recognise him by physique/ facial features? We know neither of them are genetically related to Zeus. Menelaus recognised Telemachus's resemblance to Odysseus. So what does it mean when they say they look (seem) like sons of Zeus?

Lia wrote: "“Your Majesty, there are two men outside, |4.24|
strangers who seem like sons of Zeus. Please tell me,
should we take off the harness from their horses?”
....
We know neither of them are genetically related to Zeus ..."

Actually, we don't: sooner or later most Homeric kings and heroes have an ancestry that goes back (perhaps over a couple of generations) to Zeus, perhaps by way of one of his divine sons, like Hermes or Apollo, or else to another ranking Olympian (like Nestor's descent from Zeus' brother, Poseidon, which accounts for one of the visitors). Or at least they descend from nymphs, who may be daughters of one or another of the Titans (the primeval gods).

And by sooner or later, I mean that if Homer doesn't say so directly, we may find it slightly later in Hesiod, or a Hesiodic poet: -- "The Catalogue of Women" is mostly an account of the mothers of Zeus's mortal children. Anyone who escaped that net is likely to wind up with a genealogical connection to Zeus of some sort by late antiquity, as collectors and antiquarians carefully worked up "historical" genealogies in the Hesiodic vein, but in prose.

For the most pertinent example, Odysseus' father, Laertes, is made the son of a certain King Arcesius, who was sometimes counted as actually another son of Zeus, but is also named as the son of Cephalus, the official founder of the Ithacan dynasty.

(No, I didn't remember all the details -- Wikipedia filled in the gaps in my memory of how even Odysseus was a "god-descended" king.)

Moreover, formal speech in Homer (and it is nearly all formal -- that is the way dactylic hexameter works -- is filled with such honorifics, indicating that a king (especially) is god-descended, or at least favored by a god, without a family tree being supplied.

The section in question lines 25-29 in A.T. Murray's antiquated-sounding, but generally reliable, translation for the Loeb Classical Library, tells us that Menelaus is "fostered of Zeus," and the two visitors "are like the seed of great Zeus."

Of course, that may mean mainly that the two of them "look to me like royalty."

One would put this down to protocol or flattery, or just the need to fill out the hexameter lines, except for the inconvenient "fact" in the Iliad and Odyssey that Helen *is* the daughter of Zeus, and so Menelaus is his son-in-law. In the epic world, some such relationship is a real possibility.

Stuff like this is one reason I suggested finding a good handbook of mythology -- or consulting Wikipedia, although, as in any generalized reference book, you may need to already know what you don't know just in order to find what you need.

Thanks Ian. I was going to say, Zeus sounds like that dubious fertility clinic doctor, but then I remembered Zeus was essentially THE prehistoric fertility “doctor” — getting girls pregnant was one of his specialties.
I was reading Benardete when I came up with that ridiculous question. He claims,

The theme of the fourth book is appearance, and it is once again fitting that it should be Aphrodite who, in her first appearance, sets the standard for appearance: the lovely Hermione has the looks of golden Aphrodite (4.14).37 Aphrodite is followed almost immediately by Zeus. Menelaus’s steward reports the arrival of Telemachus and Nestor’s son Peisistratus; they resemble, he says, the offspring of great Zeus (4.27). Appearances, then, come along with false and deceptive appearances: Peisistratus traces his descent from Poseidon, and Telemachus has no genealogical connection with Zeus (cf. 4.63–64, 207–10) ...

I only thought to question whether he’s justified to interpret this gesture as literal, it didn’t even cross my mind that Zeus could have fathered anyone. Like Telemachus says — who really knows?

The difficulty about myth (for me) is that there are so many versions, and unlike modern literature, we kind of accept most of the variations that survived as canon. So I can never be certain about who did what to whom, and where, and when, and why, and who is related to whom, etc.



Do you have any recommendation for a reputable handbook? (I more or less use Ovid’s Metamorphoses for that purpose, but then Ovid wasn’t known for telling the “truth.”)

David wrote: "The suitors seem ripe for entire episodes of certain TV shows, "World's Dumbest Criminals: The Unsuitable Suitors" and "A Thousand Ways to Die: Dying to Marry your Wife".

[g]

Tamara wrote: "So why would he imply the gods have limited powers?."

Actually, the Greek gods were not omnipotent, but did have limits. Too complex an issue to go into here. But they each had their primary sphere of influence, and weren't supposed to (I think weren't able to) tromp on another god's turf. For example, Poseidon governed the seas, and I don't think Athena could have called up a waterspout or big waves even if she had wanted to. Nor, I think, could she have driven Apollo's chariot across the sky.

Everyman wrote: "David wrote: "The suitors seem ripe for entire episodes of certain TV shows, "World's Dumbest Criminals: The Unsuitable Suitors" and "A Thousand Ways to Die: Dying to Marry your Wife".

[g]"

I think Menelaus comes up with a better title: "Married to bitter death"

[IV.370] That’s the Odysseus I want the suitors to meet! They’d get married all right—to bitter death.
Lombardo Trans.

Why does there seem to be no awkwardness when Helen is around? Isn't her abduction often given as the reason for the war in the first place?

And why does she call out to the men in the wooden horse in the voice of their women to tempt them into giving themselves away? And why was that act tolerated?

You [Helen] came there then, with godlike Deiphobus. Some god who favored the Trojans [295] Must have lured you on. Three times you circled Our hollow hiding place, feeling it With your hands, and you called out the names Of all the Argive leaders, making your voice Sound like each of our wives’ in turn.
Lombardo Trans

Lia wrote: "'ve read Joyce's Ulysses and Fagles' Odyssey before, I didn't understand why Joyce made Deasy out to be Nestor until I read that. (That Nestor thinks Gods divide men into just and unjust, and then reward them accordingly, turns out he's wrong, and so is Deasy"

Both Nestor and Deasy strike me as long-winded blowhards in the Polonius vein. Homer has fun with Nestor, setting him in a quasi-comical scene, just as Joyce has fun with Deasy and his hoof-and-mouth editorial. They are harmless old men inclined to cliche and ritual observances. They're useless, but innocuous.

Thomas wrote: "Both Nestor and Deasy strike me as long-winded blowhards in the Polonius vein. Homer has fun with Nestor, setting him in a quasi-comical scene, just as Joyce has fun with Deasy and his hoof-and-mouth editorial. They are harmless old men inclined to cliche and ritual observances. They're useless, but innocuous"

There are so many ways to read these ... "schema?" I love picking up more bits and hints and allusions and parallels when I'm reading something else.

Of course you're right, they're otherwise harmless blowhards full of themselves. But there's also the fact that Deasy misreads Shakespeare (Iago), makes unsubstantiated claim about divine plans for the country, etc. Reading with this group (and with Benardete's insights) really help me see how apt that is -- I find it particularly funny and satisfying that we actually get to read about the Gods complaining about these illiterate mortals misreading them, attributing everything to Gods' wraths (well, Nestor is anyway -- forcing his "just world" interpretation onto every outcome after the fact.)

Lia wrote: "Do you have any recommendation for a reputable handbook? (I more or less use Ovid’s Metamorphoses for that purpose, but then Ovid wasn’t known for telling the “truth.”)..."

See the General Discussion for the Odyssey

https://www.goodreads.com/topic/show/...

where I list some good reference works (message 12), and later some follow-ups about, e.g., Edith Hamilton, and Bulfinch. I steered away from endorsing Robert Graves' "The Greek Myths," with its eccentric commentary (and second-hand nineteenth-century scholarship), and neglected Karl (or Carl, or Karlos, etc.) Kerenyi's volumes on "The Gods of the Greeks" and "The Heroes of the Greeks," since I was already running at greater length than I intended.

Of those I described, I've been using the the free PDF of Jenny March's "Cassells Dictionary of Classical Mythology," and I've been quite impressed by how thorough it is, although the digital format makes it a little hard to follow up on all the cross-references. The revised second edition (from another publisher) is probably even better, but I would have to pay for that....

You don't actually need all the material those books present, by any means, but translations of the Homeric poems seem to me to skimp on important background, and, understandably, summarize and simplify the complexities of centuries of myth-making, transmission, and eventual collection, when they do supply relevant information.

Ovid is late, highly sophisticated, and a lot of fun (if you aren't being tested about him, or trying to construe his difficult Latin to satisfy a teacher).

But, as C.S. Lewis pointed out, he was a thoroughly urbane writer in several senses, at times closer to modern (urban) sensibilities than is the rural (and small town) Jane Austen.

(There is also the barrier of having to constantly switch gears between the Latin and Greek names of the gods, which sometimes cover different conceptions of them as well.)

Not that the Homeric poems always treat the gods with grim seriousness, but they seem to me a lot closer to "lived religion" (a current catch-phrase in some of the scholarship I've been reading) than the (erudite) Roman versions.

Over on Amazon I've reviewed some various translations of surviving *ancient* handbooks of mythology, and several translations of the "Homeric Hymns" (which are in Homeric verse, but not plausibly by whoever was responsible for the Iliad or the Odyssey). There is, inevitably, a lot of overlap between the reviews of the same book by way of different translators. I'll put together a list of them, with links, if anyone is interested.

I hope you're getting paid for providing all these resources! I have Hamilton as my bathroom book :p Maybe I should bring it back out.

Ovid kills me. *Especially* his love-advice poems. I was reading Ex-Ponto for the first time in the library and broke out sobbing. I had a very hard time explaining to a concerned librarian how a funny punny poet like Ovid could make me cry. I'm so sad that you guys have already finished reading Ovid.

Urbane? The guy who lived in some backward barbarian town that spoke no Latin, and made popsicles with wine? (j/k.)

I'll take those review links, thanks.

David wrote: "Why does there seem to be no awkwardness when Helen is around? Isn't her abduction often given as the reason for the war in the first place?

Oh look! A swan An elephant in the room!

Probably because Helen drugged everyone. Ostensibly to fix the tense mood after Menelaus ID’d Telemachus, but also conveniently, so that no one will experience any indignation when they tell their story.

And why does she call out to the men in the wooden horse in the voice of their women to tempt them into giving themselves away? And why was that act tolerated?

According to Helen, she’s only pretending to side with the Trojans, she’s secretly helping Odysseus. Just like Odysseus, she’s a genius at disguise and infiltration.


According to Menelaus, she’s under the spells of some malevolent gods. Just like Odysseus saving the day by stopping him from responding when Helen called — Menelaus has saved his marriage from disaster by “uncovering” the deceits of the gods, thus preventing a typical, unthinking response to an adulterous wife.




I thought it’s interesting that this is happening at a wedding — the sort of things Penelope/ Telemachus are trying to delay/ prevent. I’ve been thinking about Joyce’s Deasy scene and maybe I’m shoehorning this — but maybe Telemachus is being shown the untrustworthiness of women in relationship/ marriage by his elders (because that’s one of the things Deasy also ranted about in Joyce’s.) If that’s the case, it seems like it’s going to be part of his maturation process.


It’s also a continuation of story telling about the Trojan War, each story-teller (Did they sing it or just tell it like water cooler gossips?) telling a different version, from his own limited perspective, none of them neutral. If you’ve read Iliad, you might have noticed the personality continuity— Nestor just as long-winded, Menelaus just as generous and chivalric— and Helen, well, Helen said this in Iliad:

Hector, helmet flashing, answered nothing. And Helen spoke to him now,
her soft voice welling up: "My dear brother,
dear to me, bitch that I am, vicious, scheming-
horror to freeze the heart! Oh how I wish
that first day my mother brought me into the light |410|

some black whirlwind had rushed me out to the mountains
or into the surf where the roaring breakers crash and drag
and the waves had swept me off before all this had happened!
But since the gods ordained it all, these desperate years,
I wish I had been the wife of a better man, someone
alive to outrage, the withering scorn of men.
This one [Paris] has no steadiness in his spirit,
not now, he never will ...
and he's going to reap the fruits of it, I swear.
But come in, rest on this seat with me, dear brother. |420|

You are the one hit hardest by the fighting, Hector,
you more than all-and all for me, whore that I am,
and this blind mad Paris. Oh the two of us!
Zeus planted a killing doom within us both,
so even for generations still unborn
we will live in song.”



Iliad Book 6, Fagles trans.

Helen seems to think that the whole point of the Trojan War is for her, despite her gender, to become subject of songs (epics!) It's not a very graceful thing to do to sing about that (the war, with her as centre piece) to Telemachus, but not an issue if they are drugged into emotionless zombies incapable of emotional response. And notice how she’s now full of praises for Menelaus. She fulfilled her wishes, she’s now subject of songs, she's singing her own epic, she's in relationship with a “better” man, she gets to come home to her husband and child just like she said she wanted, faery tale ending and all.


Telemachus is rebelling now, but I think it’s an important lesson for him to learn: because Odysseus is very skilled at disguise, secrecy, lies, (Helen sounds like the female version of Odysseus — great story teller, charming, sharp wit, good at manipulating people, full of lies, no wonder she saw through Odysseus at once, it takes one to know one.)

And Penelope may or may not be guilty of secrecy, disloyalty to some degree (well, at least Telemachus thought he had reasons to doubt Penelope’s loyalty.) To welcome his father’s homecoming, and to accept his parents’ reunion, Telemachus needs to understand the politics between people, and that even happily married couples have secrets, do have disloyal moments, and can reach some kind of happy ever after despite that.

Cphe wrote: "Question: Why gods and not Gods?"

I will refer you to grammar girl:
https://www.quickanddirtytips.com/edu...

I will only add that some people may only find the capitalization justified when it happens to begin a sentence.

Lia wrote: "Thanks Ian. I was going to say, Zeus sounds like that dubious fertility clinic doctor, but then I remembered Zeus was essentially THE prehistoric fertility “doctor” — getting girls pregnant was one..."

I learnt in school that this has to do with the fact that Ancient Greece existed of many cultures that eventually merged in some sort of shared culture with a shared pantheon. The gods however had been there before in a more local fashion (like how the Romans appropriated the Greek gods, the Greek gods god harmonised in an earlier stage).
You can see the problem here, that not everywhere the gods, with their specific area of expertise, can be put at a par with gods from another town (with their own specific area of expertise and myths).
What was equal though, is that most societies believed they were some descendants from their most important deity (or had a story that the most important deity impregnated someone in their society, thus becoming important persons or heroes in that society). This is an explanation for Zeus' elaborate cheating.

further I'd like to point out that the ancient greek word hèroos was more or less understood as half-god, i.e. one parent or grandparent was a god. You can translate it as hero, but it is slightly different from our understanding of what a hero is.

Lia wrote: "I'll take those review links..."

Okay. I'll start off with the Homeric Hymns, which are a truly primary source (although some of them are much later than the others). The list is in alphabetical order, by translator, so I'm not favoring any one of them in particular. Remember that I am not the only reviewer, so you may want to click through to the main Amazon pages for each.

Athanasskis translation

https://www.amazon.com/gp/customer-re...

Cashford translation (Penguin Classics)

https://www.amazon.com/gp/customer-re...

Crudden translation (Oxford Worlds Classics)

https://www.amazon.com/gp/customer-re...

Shelmerdine trranslation (Focus Classical Library)

https://www.amazon.com/gp/customer-re...

West translation (Loeb Classical Library)

https://www.amazon.com/gp/customer-re...

Cphe wrote: "It seems that Poseidon reigned over land and sea...."

Very definitely. In Homer, and later, he is "the Earthshaker," and he is also somehow involved with horses -- there are different explanations of the latter. The Wikipedia article on Poseidon, which I mentioned in message #9, above, has a concise review of his various aspects.

Poseidon's multiple roles may be an early trait. As I quoted from Wikipedia earlier, in the Bronze Age Linear B texts (from Pylos, among other places) "the name po-se-da-wo-ne ("Poseidon") occurs with greater frequency than does di-u-ja ("Zeus")."

Cphe wrote: ""She who gave birth to him gave birth to grief" A strange remark."

One interpretation of the name "Odysseus" is that it comes from a root referring to pain, sorrow, or grief (see the reference in message #24, above), so we may be dealing here with a grim pun.

Marieke wrote: "I learned in school that this has to do with the fact that Ancient Greece existed of many cultures that eventually merged in some sort of shared culture with a shared pantheon. ..."

Syncretism was a big deal in the ancient world.

Syncretism (/ˈsɪŋkrətɪzəm/) is the combining of different beliefs, while blending practices of various schools of thought. Syncretism involves the merging or assimilation of several originally discrete traditions, especially in the theology and mythology of religion, thus asserting an underlying unity and allowing for an inclusive approach to other faiths. Syncretism also occurs commonly in expressions of arts and culture (known as eclecticism) as well as politics

Herodotus wrote quite a bit about how the Greek and Egyptian gods went beyond corresponding attributes and were in fact the same gods by different names. Claiming hereditary ties to gods like Zeus or Heracles (Hercules) was also desired for its usefulness. Part of Hannibal's huge and largely successful propaganda effort to demoralize the Romans was his claim to be an ancestor of Heracles. The Romans fought back they only way they could, by also claiming to be ancestors of Heracles.

Aias would have escaped his doom, though Athene hated him,
had he not gone wildly mad and tossed out a word of defiance;
for he said that in despite of the gods he escaped the great gulf
of the sea, and Poseidon heard him, loudly vaunting....
(4.502-505)

Jinx?

I really enjoyed Menelaos's story of capturing Proteus. Those little details like the smell of the sealskins were great. Also, I found it humorous that Menelaos apparently gets into paradise solely because he's Zeus's son-in-law (4.569).

David wrote: "his claim to be an ancestor of Heracles....."

As a good Carthaginian, Hannibal may have been referring directly to descent from the god Phoenician god Melqart, who was commonly identified with Heracles (sometimes with the name Hellenized to Melicertes). See:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Melqart

The article correctly notes that the name is "Melek qart," "King of the City," and refers it back to the patron god of Carthage's "Mother City," Tyre. Another explanation for the equation with Heracles, however, is that this was a commonly used polite term to refer to any god who was a city's patron, and the Greeks explained his apparent multi-presence by reference to the travels of their hero (a son of Zeus, and eventually received on Olympus as a god).

I would add that there is an alternative explanation, that Melqart was a straightforward euphemism, the "City" in his name being the realm of the dead. This would have a parallel in the Babylonian god of the netherworld, Nergal, whose name *may* derive from a Sumerian "Lord of the Great City" -- which would make the name as grim as Melqart's alleged association with human sacrifice.

Lia wrote: "I'll take those review links..."

This is part two two of the promised list of reviews, but I've included some items I have yet to review. The main topic is the "Library of Apollodorus," an ancient handbook of Greek (but not Roman) myths, which is the primary source for a great many stories whose earlier tellings have been lost.

In alphabetical order, by translator (again)

Keith Aldrich translation (not reviewed, and out of print)

https://www.amazon.com/Library-Greek-...

J. G. Frazer (author of The Golden Bough) translation

https://www.amazon.com/gp/customer-re...

Robin Hard translation

https://www.amazon.com/gp/customer-re...

Scott and Trzaskoma translation (not yet reviewed: includes a shorter Latin handbook, as well)

https://www.amazon.com/Apollodorus-Li...

Michael Simpson translation

https://www.amazon.com/Gods-Heroes-Gr...

Constellation/transformation myths play a big role in most basic introductions to Greek mythology, probably out of proportion to their actual popularity, but we are fortunate in having two ancient handbooks which can be ransacked by modern writers. An excellent translation of both, plus a more purely astronomical writer, is now available -- I should get around to reviewing this, but I will probably do it on Goodreads, as I've nearly given up on Amazon.

Robin Hard (Eratosthenes, Hyginus, and Aratus)

https://www.amazon.com/Constellation-...

With a shout and got our hands on him,
And the Old One didn’t forget his wiles,
Turning first into a bearded lion, [485] Then a serpent, a leopard, and a huge boar. He even turned into flowing water,
And into a high, leafy tree. But we
Held on, gritting our teeth, and at last
The wily Old One grew weary,
Lombardo

I chuckle a bit when I imagine Menelaus and his crew holding on to a tree and the tree not walking away very far, at least with any speed, but I am having trouble imagining them trying to contain flowing water.

This is an addendum to two of my messages above, #34 and #42

In #34 I mentioned that I had skipped Karl Kerenyi's compendiums of Greek mythology, bare-boned, but highly reliable, with all sources specified. (Kerenyi writes as if he was an ancient Greek, looking back at his past without Roman intrusions -- which parallels the "Library of Apollodorus." My main motivation for this omission was the length of the post in which I originally covered handbooks (see link in message #34), but both of them are now out of print. For what it is worth, the Amazon links are:

Karl Kerenyi, The Gods of the Greeks
https://www.amazon.com/Gods-Greeks-Ka...

Karl Kerenyi, The Heroes of the Greeks
https://www.amazon.com/Heroes-Greeks-...

Message #42 is on translations of the Homeric Hymns, and was limited to those I have reviewed. However, that meant skipping two translations I know, but never got around to dealing with on Amazon. They are:

Charles Boer translation, second edition -- note that Amazon's "newer edition" is by a different translator (Athanassakis)!
https://www.amazon.com/Homeric-Hymns-...

Thelma Sargent, Norton Library (but not a Norton Critical Edition), which is in print in Kindle only
https://www.amazon.com/Homeric-Hymns-...

I am not very fond of Boer's slightly breezy translation, which seems to me too casual for a very formal art-form, but he has admirers. It also lacks a commentary or notes. If you want to try it, get the second edition, as the first accidentally omitted an entire hymn(!).

Sargent's translation also lacks a commentary, but, before a whole series of modern translations appeared in print, it was the only modern alternative to Boer, and I liked it rather better.

Lia wrote: " “Your Majesty, there are two men outside, |4.24|
strangers who seem like sons of Zeus. Please tell me,
should we take off the harness from their horses?”

Is likeness to "sons of Zeus" a kind of common saying? Like a metaphor? Did people literally know what Zeus looks like so that they can recognise him by physique/ facial features?."

Neat question. Zeus, of course, was a serial rapist and fathered quite a few children, so perhaps it's not unreasonable when strangers who look very distinguished or even godlike drift in to wonder. But I don't find that a very satisfactory answer.

When I said Zeus fathered quite few children, I wasn't aware quite how many. This listing may or may no be complete, but it includes both divine offspring and semi-divine or mortal children.

Of course, not all those liaisons were rape, but plenty were.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Zeus#Se...

Everyman wrote: "When I said Zeus fathered quite few children, I wasn't aware quite how many. This listing may or may no be complete, but it includes both divine offspring and semi-divine or mortal children...."

Thanks for posting the link: I had forgotten that the article had the lists.

When I was explaining the "sons of Zeus" phrase, I really should have referred to Aeacus, who, as Wikipedia also reminds me, "was the son of Zeus and Aegina, a daughter of the river-god Asopus. ... He was the father of Peleus, Telamon and Phocus and was the grandfather of Achilles and Telemonian Ajax." So right there we get two royal heroes of the Trojan War.

I think that relationship slipped my mind when I realized that Odysseus could, in some versions, be counted as a descendant of Zeus, too.

(To clarify a bit for those who vaguely remember him from the the Iliad, Telemonian Ajax is Ajax the Greater. He should not be confused with Ajax the Lesser, who was drowned by Poseidon for boasting that he had escaped the wrath of the gods -- see Odyssey, Book 4, lines 500ff. I'd say more about Telemonian Ajax, but he also turns up later in the Odyssey, and I'm trying to avoid spoilers.)