#8: The Odyssey/Herodotus’s Histories
Composed by Julia Galef. Edited by Brennan Johnson

Odysseus's trip to the underworld:

Hades' is dark, dank, bloodless. There is no pain for most, but no pleasure exists there either.

In Hades', Odysseus meets:

Agamemnon, who warns him about trusting women. Clytemnestra's treachery casts doubt on the whole female sex; Agamemnon says, "... she with thoughts surpassingly grisly/ splashed the shame on herself and the rest of her sex, on women/ still to come, even on the one whose acts are virtuous," (179).

Antikleia, his mother, who died grieving for him. "Antikleia" - ("against kleos"). Why does she die of grieving? Because... she has no body to weep over. Mourning can never be done. She will never experience the release that comes from expressing one's suffering through lamentation (see "Pleasure in Lamentation," below).

Elpenor, who died falling off of Circe's house. He asks Odysseus and his men to go back and bury him. This request shows the supreme importance of a proper burial in Greek culture.

Ajax, who remains unforgiving regarding his quarrel with Odysseus over Achilleus's armor. Ajax's grudge is especially ironic in light of his speech to Achilleus in book 9 of the Iliad, in which he accuses Achilleus of being hard-hearted: "Achilleus/ has made savage the proud-hearted spirit within his body./ He is hard... Pitiless," (Iliad, 215). Ajax's stubbornness is also reflective of the stagnation in Hades - there is no moral growth that can occur, because time (which would have softened Ajax's heart) is no longer relevant.

Achilleus, who seems to be regretting his choice of glorious short life over long uneventful and anonymous one. Achilleus seems finally to have realized that to sustain life should be done at all costs:

"O shining Odysseus, never try to console me for dying.
I would rather follow the plow as thrall to another
man, one with no land allotted him and not much to live on,
than be a king over all the perished dead," (11:488-91).

The changed Achilleus believes now that now amount of fame and kleos in the future is worth the sacrifice of one's present. Yet, he is thrilled to hear of his son's exploits in battle and newfound kleos. Is this contradictory?

Tiresias, the blind seer and the greatest of prophets. Why are the prophets and poets so often blind? Because when vision is gone, other senses are sharpened. And they possess the rare quality of "insight" - rendering traditional sight unnecessary. They can see in a way that others cannot.

Sirens - they entice men by singing of the men's own exploits. Men go to the Sirens pursuing the song, the kleos, just as they go to battle pursuing their own kleos. Both pursuits prove fatal. They attempt to coax Odysseus to his death by praising his exploits, calling him "...honored Odysseus, great glory of the Achaians..." (190), and offering to sing to him about the Trojan War: "...we know everything that the Argives and Trojans / did and suffered in wide Troy through the gods' despite," (190). The narcissistic pleasure of listening to one's own glory is the most dangerous allure.

Pleasure in Lamentation:

There is a frequently-mentioned association between both pleasure and suffering AND pleasure and recollection of suffering. In the former, the actual act of lamentation can provide an almost pleasurable release, a catharsis, and can seem to satisfy the feelings of emptiness that accompany grief. Some examples:

"...when she had taken her pleasure in a tearful lamentation..." (p.287) -[referring to Penelope]

"But when I had glutted myself with rolling on the sand and weeping..." (p.79) [Menelaos].

In the latter relationship (between pleasure and recollection of suffering), one can derive pleasure from the recollection and retelling of stories of grief and loss. In fact, much of that pleasure comes from sharing stories of grief - and thus, sharing grief itself - with other people, which is the effect of storytelling. An example from the text:

"For afterwards a man who has suffered/ much and wandered much has pleasure out of his sorrows." (p. 235) --spoken by the swineherd Eumaios to Odysseus.

However, in order to be able to have "pleasure out of his sorrows," a person needs to have achieved a certain level of detachment from those sorrows, and only time can accomplish that. [(Or, Helen's potion!)]

The problematic ending of the Odyssey: Odysseus takes revenge on the suitors who have been feeding, like parasites, off of his home. His actions are an example of "tisis" - retributive justice [(essentially, "tit for tat")]. They are inconsistent with our image of Odysseus's personal growth and wisdom he has achieved in his long ordeal - Athena has to come down and stay his hand. Has Odysseus changed, after all? Or has he simply recovered the identity which he left behind while he was away?

The spectrum of status:

GODS --> Humans --> Beasts

The spectrum of culture:

Phaikaians ("ideal"/utopian culture) --> Ithaka --> The suitors (corruption of culture, of xenia)

Odysseus is in the center of both spectra.

HERODOTUS: Histories

Background: Athens, at this time, is the largest city on the Greek mainland. Around the 5^th century BCE, Greek thought begins to change, and systems of law become more refined, based more on rational thought than on tradition. This period sees the beginnings of law courts, and of drama, philosophy, and pedagogy as well. It is fitting, then, that from this period of growth should spring the first histories ("history" - means "inquiry")

Proem of Histories - stands in sharp contrast to the proems of the Odyssey and the Iliad. There is no invocation of "muse" or "goddess" here; rather, Herodotus names himself quite specifically, making it clear that he is the author and deserves the glory for the telling. He is the one bestowing kleos here, not the gods -- both on the people who appear in his narration, and on himself as well.

The story of Candalus and Gyges: Candalus (the king, and a Heraclid - descendent of Herakles) offers Gyges a choice. He can break a taboo and view Candalus's wife naked, or he can disobey his ruler. Gyges picks the first option. Unfortunately, the queen sees him spying on her and is furious. She gives Gyges a choice: either he can kill himself on the spot, or he can kill her husband and usurp the throne. He chooses the latter, becomes king (though his line only rules for five generations, per a prophecy).

Note: The wife has no name, marking her unimportance (being a woman) - yet she plays a significant part in the course of history.

This story is a prime example of a theme which shows up so often in Herodotus's narration: that one seemingly insignificant event can have exponentially large repercussions. Gyges's first choice led to his second, which led to a change in the people's kingship for generations. Herodotus pays especial attention to matters of causality in history such as this one.

On a similar note, this story raises a question which was addressed by Homer as well: the question of to what extent can we really control our lives? We may think that we are free to make choices for ourselves - but the fact that we must make those particular choices is a result of circumstances outside our control, and the choices that we make will lead to more choices, in ways that are impossible to forsee.

Five generations after Gyges [(note: his race is called the Lydians)]: Croesus is king. Croesus is far from perfect, as a king and as a person - he lacks "metis" (cleverness/craftiness), for instance. He cannot read prophecies, is stubborn, and won't listen to his advisers.

Solon goes to Croesus, who asks him, "Who is the most fortunate man in the world?" Croesus obviously expects to be named, but Solon names three other men instead. It seems that Herodotus uses Solon to preach his message: the gods will cut down any man who has become too prosperous and proud. Just as countries/empires/city states rise and fall in power throughout the ages, so too do men's fortunes rise and fall, and as Solon tells Croesus, a man can never be surely happy until he has died happy: "Often enough God gives a man a glimpse of happiness, and then utterly ruins him," (15). Fittingly enough, Croesus's fortunes are soon to change, as his domain is soon invaded and conquered by Cyrus.