A Guide to the Odyssey: A Commentary on the English Translation of Robert Fitzgerald by Ralph J. Hexter, Robert Fitzgerald Page B
Authors: Ralph J. Hexter, Robert Fitzgerald
Tags: Literary Criticism, Language Arts & Disciplines, Poetry, Ancient & Classical, History and Criticism, Epic poetry; Greek, Translating & Interpreting, Homer, Greek Language - Translating Into English, Greek Language, Fitzgerald; Robert - Knowledge - Language and Languages, Epic Poetry; Greek - History and Criticism, Odysseus (Greek Mythology) in Literature, Translating Into English
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misleadingly anachronistic concept; most ancient religions were based on practice rather than faith), the gods provided the poet with opportunities to sketch another set of compelling characters. They also helped him effect transitions of time and place, and with their superhuman perspective as well as their shape-changing capabilities they provided him endless opportunities for dramatic irony. But the gods were not merely plot devices or colorful figures to vary the landscape. The Homeric poems are ultimately grounded in the serious concerns of humans: as later Greek ethics put the question, How islife to be lived? The gods, who are immortal and for that reason have no mortal cares, are not held to human standards of conduct. Excellent forebears, not the gods, are presented as examples for mortals aspiring to greatness. Where the gods play a role in the life of a good man or woman is simply this: it is right to sacrifice to the gods, to hold them in honor, to hope for their aid.
In other words, it is in the relationship of mortals to immortals, rather than that of immortals to mortals, that the gods have the most importance for
The Odyssey
. Despite all his trials, and his offense or offenses notwithstanding, Odysseus is presented as a pious man, and when he gets to Ithaka we see him fostering piety in his son. Heroes can, in their excellence, be “godlike,” which seems to mean that they are supreme in a particular branch of excellence; the term “godlike” is appropriate because whatever a god is, he or she is that absolutely (on “godlike” epithets, see the Commentary, Book I.92 , below). Odysseus displays excellence in many spheres, and in that he resembles his patron, Athena. Or, as it is also presented, it is because of these qualities in Odysseus that she is so fond of him. Like Athena, Odysseus excels in prudence, craftiness, and battle, as does Penélopê (battle excepted). Although there are specific Homeric virtues that overlap with those we today would consider virtues (for example, charity to beggars, hospitality), “goodness” is not in itself a relevant concept. Neither, as we will have occasion to see, is honesty. The Greek concept of “help your friends, harm your enemies,” is very much in force, and if guile can be employed to this end, Odysseus and Athena—and Penélopê—will be among the first to use it. Nor is there anything inherently good about perpetual restraint from violence, a point which deserves particular emphasis.
FATHERS AND SONS
For many, the charm of
The Odyssey
lies largely in Odysseus’ time in the land of the Phaiákians, from the moment he sees Nausikaa through his narrative of his fantastic adventures. And indeed, the adventures are memorable, as are Sindbad’s. But
The Odyssey
isultimately about family relationships, and Odysseus’ voyages, however brilliantly they showcase his fortitude (and consummate narrative skills), constitute in some ways the least Odyssean episodes in the epic. They mark the point most distant from the central issue, just as his exotic ports of call are most distant from his goal—home—and must, however great the temptation to appreciate them as set pieces, be read in the larger context of Odysseus’ return. It has often been lodged as a charge against
The Odyssey
that the epic begins with four books focused on Telémakhos, the so-called Telemachy. Let us leave aside the point that by means of this narrative device we easily learn of the sad state of affairs in Ithaka, the deep moral depravity of the suitors and Penélopê’s antipathy to them, and the fatal homecoming of Agamémnon. We observe the loving couple in Sparta—Meneláos and Helen. The Trojan War is well and truly over. Leave this aside, because, albeit with less elegance, the poet could have told us of all this directly.
But the Telemachy makes sense if we understand that
The Odyssey
is from the start about the mutual discovery of father by son, and of son by father.
In other words, it is in the relationship of mortals to immortals, rather than that of immortals to mortals, that the gods have the most importance for
The Odyssey
. Despite all his trials, and his offense or offenses notwithstanding, Odysseus is presented as a pious man, and when he gets to Ithaka we see him fostering piety in his son. Heroes can, in their excellence, be “godlike,” which seems to mean that they are supreme in a particular branch of excellence; the term “godlike” is appropriate because whatever a god is, he or she is that absolutely (on “godlike” epithets, see the Commentary, Book I.92 , below). Odysseus displays excellence in many spheres, and in that he resembles his patron, Athena. Or, as it is also presented, it is because of these qualities in Odysseus that she is so fond of him. Like Athena, Odysseus excels in prudence, craftiness, and battle, as does Penélopê (battle excepted). Although there are specific Homeric virtues that overlap with those we today would consider virtues (for example, charity to beggars, hospitality), “goodness” is not in itself a relevant concept. Neither, as we will have occasion to see, is honesty. The Greek concept of “help your friends, harm your enemies,” is very much in force, and if guile can be employed to this end, Odysseus and Athena—and Penélopê—will be among the first to use it. Nor is there anything inherently good about perpetual restraint from violence, a point which deserves particular emphasis.
FATHERS AND SONS
For many, the charm of
The Odyssey
lies largely in Odysseus’ time in the land of the Phaiákians, from the moment he sees Nausikaa through his narrative of his fantastic adventures. And indeed, the adventures are memorable, as are Sindbad’s. But
The Odyssey
isultimately about family relationships, and Odysseus’ voyages, however brilliantly they showcase his fortitude (and consummate narrative skills), constitute in some ways the least Odyssean episodes in the epic. They mark the point most distant from the central issue, just as his exotic ports of call are most distant from his goal—home—and must, however great the temptation to appreciate them as set pieces, be read in the larger context of Odysseus’ return. It has often been lodged as a charge against
The Odyssey
that the epic begins with four books focused on Telémakhos, the so-called Telemachy. Let us leave aside the point that by means of this narrative device we easily learn of the sad state of affairs in Ithaka, the deep moral depravity of the suitors and Penélopê’s antipathy to them, and the fatal homecoming of Agamémnon. We observe the loving couple in Sparta—Meneláos and Helen. The Trojan War is well and truly over. Leave this aside, because, albeit with less elegance, the poet could have told us of all this directly.
But the Telemachy makes sense if we understand that
The Odyssey
is from the start about the mutual discovery of father by son, and of son by father.
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