Questionable Morals

Throughout the first 21 books of the Odyssey, the reader is made to anticipate the ending, where Odysseus will finally get home and take revenge against the suitors. But upon arriving at book 22: Bloodshed, it isn’t necessarily obvious that Odysseus’ actions are entirely justified. Even more so, the way in which Odysseus takes his revenge makes his moral integrity a little weaker from the reader’s point of view.

It is entirely understandable that Odysseus wants to take revenge as he does in Book 22, after being informed by Tiresias in Book 11 that there were “invaders eating [his] supplies at home, courting [his] wife with gifts” (11. 118-119). Interestingly enough, it is also Tiresias who tells Odysseus that he will “match the suitors’ violence and kill them all” instead of Odysseus deciding to do so himself (11. 119-120). When Odysseus goes to take his revenge, he goes a little overboard. As we discussed in class, it seems like killing an entire generation of townspeople might be overdoing it a little. Plus, Odysseus ignores Leodes’ plea of mercy, a man known for having “disapproved of all their bullying” (21. 144). In Book 21, he specifically urged those who could not string Odysseus’ bow to leave and go court “some other fine, well dressed Greek lady” (21. 161). Despite this, when Leodes begs Odysseus for his life in Book 22, neither Athena nor Telemachus stand up for him and recognize his lack of involvement in the proceedings, unlike with the poet Phemius and the house boy Medon. Instead, he is, basically, convinced and executed for wishing that “[Odysseus’] wife would marry [Leodes] instead and bear [Leodes] children” (22. 324-5). What makes this scene particularly morally ambivalent is that Leodes is killed, not because of an abuse of xenia (that we know of), but rather because he even tried to court Penelope, something which, to our knowledge, would have been perfectly acceptable.

In addition to Odysseus, Book 22 adds some interesting moral ambivalence to Telemachus’ character; one who previously had been very sympathetic. In this book, Telemachus makes his first kill as part of the revenge fight with the suitors. Starting at line 89, Homer narrates,

Amphinomus attacked Odysseus. He drew his sharp sword hoping he could force him to yield his place. Telemachus leapt in and thrust his bronze spear through him from behind, ramming it through his back and out his chest (22. 89-93).

Along with Amphinomus being one of the more sympathetic and moral suitors, Homer has the added awkward detail of Telemachus stabbing Amphinomus in the back, something generally associated with cowards. This action completely destroys (at least in my opinion) the personal and moral growth that we have noted in Telemachus’ hero journey.

The end of book 22 contains possibly the most disturbing view of both Odysseus and Telemachus, as heroes and people in general. After killing all of the suitors, Odysseus asks Eurycleia which of the slave girls are loyal and which are not. He orders the men to have the disloyal slave girls clean up the bodies of the suitors and then to “hack at them with long swords, eradicate all life from them” (22. 443-4). After the slave girls have cleaned the bodies up Telemachus, “showing initiative,” suggests to instead hang the girls (22. 461). Homer describes their deaths as “agonies” and that “they gasped, feet twitching for a while, but not for long” (22. 473-4). This is both simply a disturbing description of their deaths, one possibly only beaten by Melanthius’ death, and a disturbing vision of Telemachus in his (ideal?) position as head of the house, mimicking his father’s cruelty when it comes to killing those involved in the courting of Penelope. There is also an interesting mix of views concerning the slave girls, as Odysseus, as he condemns them to death, implies that the “suitors made them do” things, while Telemachus, as he strings up rope with which to hang them, says that the girls “poured down shame on me and Mother, when they lay beside the suitors” (22. 444-5; 464-5). It is confusing as to how we should read it, but the perspective that makes the most sense to me is that Telemachus’ perspective is that of one who assumed that they were doing it voluntarily, while we were previously told that the suitors have raped the girls, a view with which Odysseus appears to agree. Why he still has them killed is not clear.

In the end, after reading Book 22, I do not feel satisfied. Though my view of Odysseus has gotten worse and worse as we have read further into The Odyssey, this was the crux of all the morally ambiguous and just cruel things he has done or endorsed. In addition, his willingness and enthusiasm to continue to fight against the townsmen in Book 24, inevitably killing another generation of the town, was horrifying to see from the supposed hero of the epic poem. While a case can be made that Odysseus, as the king of Ithaca returning at long last, needed to make a point in these acts of violence to discourage betrayal and show that he will harshly punish any who wrong him, one would think that, even for the people of ancient Greece, such a cruel and unforgiving character would not appeal as a hero.

Is it all Odysseus’ fault?

In class over the last couple of days, the question of fault has come up a lot. Particularly, we have discussed to what extent Odysseus is at fault for the events described in books 9-12, a rather complicated question to answer.

Throughout books 9-12, there are many situations where Odysseus is very obviously at fault for the deaths of his men. For example, he is told by Circe in book 12 that six of his men will be killed if he goes by Scylla. Odysseus does not tell his crew that some of them are fated to die, so they sail unknowingly in while Odysseus prepares himself to fight if necessary. The backstory to this is, of course, that if they had not gone past Scylla they would have passed Charybdis and all of them would have died, but it does seem like Odysseus shares a portion of the blame for this set of deaths, whether or not his crew is aware of it. There’s no telling what they would have done, had Odysseus told his crew that six of them would die, but he is not blameless in this situation.

Even more blame can be applied to him in the death of six more of his men earlier in book 9. Even though they have plenty of food on board their ships, supplied to them by the nymphs, Odysseus gathers twelve men to accompany him into Polyphemus’ cave. Even after failing to find Polyphemus, Odysseus, hoping “to see him, and find out if he would give us gifts” refuses to leave the cave, rejecting his companions’ idea to “grab some cheese and quickly drive the kids and lambs out of their pens and down to our swift ships, and sail away across the salty water,” an idea which he even tells Alcinous “would have been the better choice” (9. 223-229). As a result, when Polyphemus returns to his cave, he traps them within and, over the course of the next day, gobbles down six of the men who accompanied Odysseus. Though they do manage to escape Polyphemus in the end, the fault seems to clearly lie with Odysseus and these events also set question to the heroicness of Odysseus’ motives, seeming to be an abuse of xenia similar to that of the suitors in Ithaca.

Poseidon’s cursing of Odysseus’ journey home, occurring almost immediately after their escape from the cave, is also something for which Odysseus should take full blame. Though a case can be made that perhaps the first taunting is semi-justified, there is no reason, other than pride, for the second taunting. Even after his crew begs him to stop, Odysseus can’t help but taunt Polyphemus again, revealing his name (as well as his father’s name and that he lives in Ithaca, facts which seem rather unnecessary). Because of this taunt, Polyphemus recognizes Odysseus for the man fated to blind him and successfully prays for Poseidon to curse Odysseus’ journey home. It is easy to claim that, had Odysseus not taunted Polyphemus, the travelers would have reached home much sooner.

You’re probably thinking, “Lia, it pretty much sounds like Odysseus is totally to blame. . . Where are you going with this?”

Well, here are some situations in which Odysseus either cannot be blamed or is only partially to blame:

After leaving Polyphemus, Odysseus and his crew arrive at the “floating island of Aeolus” who gives Odysseus a bag of wind to blow him and his crew home (10. 1). They are nearly home when Odysseus takes a nap, exhausted by having done all of the steering for “nine days and nights” (10. 28). As he sleeps, his crew, jealous of the supposed gold and silver that Aeolus had given to Odysseus, open the bag of wind, accidentally blowing them in the wrong direction, back toward Aeolus’ palace. When they arrive, Aeolus refuses to help them, stating that it was not right for him to help a man so hated by the gods. This tragedy is one situation where Odysseus is not (at least entirely) to blame. Though he does tell Aeolus to blame his “stubborn urge to sleep,” it does not seem reasonable to do so, as he had been supposedly awake for nine days and nights (10. 68). Unfortunately, after examining the situation, one can make a case for it being partially Odysseus’ fault since his lack of communication with his crew caused their jealousy in the first place. Had he simply told the crew what was in the bag, they would have made it home safely. This, of course, does not absolve his crew of their blame, as they were the ones who acted on their jealousy and inevitably caused the boat to not reach home.

The crew’s final and most damaging mistake occurs two books later in book twelve after leaving Circe. Odysseus, having been warned multiple times urges his crew to avoid the island of the sun god Helios, but his crew, championed by Eurylochus fights back, eventually convinces Odysseus to stay and rest on the island. Though they plan to leave the next morning, Zeus causes a storm to rage for a month, depleting the crew of their supplies and food. Despite Odysseus’ urgings throughout the time against eating Helios’ cattle, when he goes to pray to the gods for assistance getting home Eurylochus convinces the other sailors to eat some of the cattle. Because of the crew’s actions, soon after leaving the island a storm hits, destroying the ship and sweeping all of the crew overboard. Only Odysseus survives. This is the situation where Odysseus is the least at fault, as he repeatedly warned his crew against eating Helios’ cattle. One could even make a case that the gods purposefully intended for this to happen, as it says that the gods “poured sweet sleep upon [his] eyes,” preventing Odysseus from returning and keeping the crew from killing the cattle (12. 338). All fault, in this case, lies in the crew’s hands, particularly Eurylochus who convinced Odysseus to stay there in the first place.

Though I have difficulty coming up with an answer to the question “Is it all Odysseus’ fault?” I will say that it is very interesting how Odysseus interacts with danger and unknown people or places. He does not hesitate to demand gifts from Polyphemus, as well as the various kings he meets along his way, nor to investigate random islands, such as those of the kings and Polyphemus, possibly simply to search for gifts. However, he attempts to avoid Helios’ island, perhaps knowing that they would inevitably fail to not eat his cattle. Together, these events don’t display a very heroic view of Odysseus. Instead of searching for the route which will get his crew home as soon as possible, Odysseus stops at every island, searching for the expected xenia from kings and peasants alike. He even says in his description “[his crew] wept, remembering their dear companions” posing a question as to how much Odysseus values human life, other than his own (12. 310). All I can say is, these past seven books have really emphasized for me Odysseus’ reputation of trickery and slyness and have lacked the heroism one might expect.