The Odyssey
By Homer
Read August, 2011
A book to remember. Less violent than The Iliad. I feel much better equipped to understand other writings, ancient and modern, now that I have some of these characters and scenes under my belt.
The theme is of going home. This is a human universal. Kid’s stories employ it. Movies, like E.T., employ it. The desire is so fundamental, it lends itself well as a theme. Home to the marriage, home to father and son, home to homeland, property, what is justly his. The role of honor and courage in asserting what is rightly his. His duty to his father and his son. His wife’s faith and troth. Personal significance, honor and identity is attained through all these connections and actions. Lineage. Modern technological advancement and allurements threaten our enjoyment of some of these universal meaning-givers. Suffering and striving is the way to conquest, glory, and rightfully claiming a birthright, an end-of-life prize, and decent respect of fellows. Proper treatment and burial of the body is enjoined. All relations are male-female, hundreds in number.
When Odysseus wanted to get as far from his noble nature as possible, for the purpose of his disguise, he posed as a beggar. Begging is ignoble. Sponging moochers, like the dozens of men eating the food from Odysseus’ stores, will be replaced. Their end is ugly, their dignity fully compromised, spent.
Now there was a man, I’d say, in words and action both!
Will not end in failure
Far from hi loved ones still
Odysseus journeys home
Suitors amusing themselves, dice, lounging
Chair of honor
They fee on another’s goods and go scot-free
Tell me about yourself, now, clearly, point by point, Who are you? Where are you from? your city? your parents?
Mother has always told me I’m his son, it’s true, but I am not so certain. Who, on his own, has ever really known who gave him life?
They say I am his son
Shameful!
Build his honors high
Reach down deep in your heart and soul for a way to kill these suitors in your house, by stealth or in open combat. You must not cling to your boyhood any longer- it’s time you were a man.
Be brave…so men will come to sing your praises down the years.
Left his spirit filled with nerve and courage
A man like a god himself
Courage, mother.
As for giving orders, men will see to that, but I most of all: I hold the reins of power in this house.
She took to heart he clear good sense in what her son had said.
Devour your own possessions
So much daring
Wealth, honors
Do hold on to your own possessions, rule your house.
The true son of Odysseus
He took his father’s seat
Oh, I’d swing to attack if I had the power in me
Disgrace
You should be ashamed of yourselves
Setting these parasites against me
There’s nothing I can do
Pin the blame
Great renown she wins for herself
Cries of shame
Destroying one man’s goods and going scot-free
A fine to crush your spirit!
Builds his honors high.
Deserves
With deep concern for the realm
They lay their lives on the line when they consume Odysses’ worldy gods
Odysseus, worn by hardship, might come home again
Your birthright
There’s a god who made this plan
Who are you?Where did you sail from, over the running sea-lanes?
To plunder other men
If ever my father, lord Odysseus, pledged you his word and made it good in action
Our best and bravest fell
The great man of war
Only after we slaved did Zeus award us victory
Odysseus…sheer cunning…. strategy he excelled us all
Be brave
I must bear up, that’s all
Do you let yourself be so abused
The great leveler, Death
Coward found the nerve
The noble
Her will was faithful still
A conquest past his maddest hopes
So you, dear boy, take care. Don’t rove from home too long, too far, leaving your own holdings unprotected- crowds in your palace so brazen they’ll carve up all your wealth, devour it all
His own loyal wife
The gods were sealing firm the marriage
An inspired bard sang out and struck his lyre
Just think of all the hospitality we enjoyed at the hands of other men before we made it home
Once you’ve dined, we’ll ask you who you are
Few if any could rival me in riches. Believe me, much I suffered, many a mile I roved to haul such treasures home in my ships
No one, no Achaean labored hard as Odysseus labored or achieved so much
Shameless whore that I was
When a father’s gone, his son takes much abuse in a house where no one comes to his defense.
Helen thought of something else. Into the mixing-bowl from which they drank their wine she slipped a drug, heart’s-ease, dissolving anger, magic to make us forget all our pains…(the first Prozac?)
So come, let’s back in the palace now, dine and warm our hearts with the old stories.
My heart had changed by now
I yearned to sail back home again!
Forsaking my own child, my bridal bed, my husband too, a man who lacked for neither brains nor beauty. (Helen)
What a heart that fearless Odysseus had inside him!
More than all other men, that man was born for pain.
That’s the bed of a brave man of war they’d like to crawl inside, those spineless, craven cowards! Weak
Gods are always keen to see their rules obeyed
Are you a fool, stranger- soft in the head and lazy too? Or do you let things slide because you like your pain?
Choose three men, the best you’ve got
How can you cross the swarming sea and reach home at last?
If you ever hoped for a rapid journey home across the wine-dark sea, to see your lived ones
He took that native earth in his hands and kissed it
I felt my heart, my old pride
Sped me home, home to the native land I love
Summoning up his newfound tact
Indignation. Blazing. Anger
Not Odysseus. Never an outrage done to any man alive. But you, your and your ugly outbursts, shameful acts
Hi father’s journey home
His line, his son’s line of kings!
Defend him from these outrageous, overbearing suitors!
Courage! Don’t be overwhelmed by all your direst fears.
The exile must return. But not in the convoy of the gods or mortal men. No, on a lashed, makeshift raft and wrung with pains.
He shall see his loved ones
A most unlucky man
Set sail for home
Destiny still ordains that he shall see his loved ones
Reach his native country
His foiled journey home
Passage home
Royal son of Laertes
To your own home
But if you only knew, down deep, what pains are fated to fill your cup before you reach that shore
Preside
As you long to see your wife
Bring the trial on!
The lost themselves in love
Returning home
I can reach my native land
Waves of exhaustion overwhelmed him now
His fighting spirit
Man of misery
His hard labors
Odysseus’ journey home
You won’t stay unwed long
Man of misery
Doomed my life to hardship
To suffer still more torments
And may the good gods give you all your heart desires: husband and house, and lasting harmony too. No finer, greater gift in the world than that…when man and woman possess their home, two minds, two hearts that work as one. Despair to their enemies, a joy to all their friends. Their own best claim to glory.
Nasty gossip. Insolent types. One of the coarser sort.
Your home’s a world away
Your loved ones, reach your own grand house, your native land at last
His native land
Be bold, nothing to fear. In every venture the bold man comes off best.
She can dissolve quarrels
Then we turn our minds to his passage home
His home’s a world away
Let me finish dinner. The belly’s a shameless dog, there’s nothing worse. Always insisting, pressing, it never lets us forget, still it keeps demanding, “Eat, drink! Fill meup!”
On his own home soil
Who are you? Where are you from?
Reach your land and house
What greater glory attends a man, while he’s alive, than what he wins with his racing feet and striving hands? Come and compete then
Passage home
You rouse my fighting blood!
Anyone with the spine and spirit
I’m no disgrace
I outclass them all
My legs have lost their spring
You simply want to display the gifts you’re born with
Safe passage home to see your wife
Remember me at times. Mainly to me you owe the gift of life.
The grimmest fight
And tell me your land, your people, your city too
Tell us your own story now
I am Odysseus, son of Laertes
Mine is a rugged land but good for raising sons- and I myself, I know no sweeter sight on earth than a man’s own native country.
Those who bore him
The voyage home
To plunder other men
Courage-no panic, no one hang back now!
If I really am your son and you claim to be my father
Into the brew she stirred her wicked drugs to wipe from their memories any thought of home
Necessity drives me on
Never unman you
Its name and nature
Who are you? where are you from? your city? your parents?
High time you thought of your home at last
Their urging brought my stubborn spirit round.
It’s time to help me home. My heart longs to be home.
No more lazing away in sleep
Don’t sail off and desert me, left unwept, unburied, don’t, or my curse may draw god’s fury on your head.
Even so, you and your crew may still reach home, suffering all the way, if you only have the power to curb their wild desire and curb your own
And at last your own death will steal upon you…a gentle, painless death, far from the sea it comes to take you down, borne down with the years in ripe old age with all your people there in blessed peace around you.
Always wandering-endless hardship
Each declared her lineage
Bedded. Had consummated his work of love. Merged in love.
So I died-a wretched, ignominious death
My life is endless trouble
Did the boy become a champion?
His fair share
His gallant, glorious son
Forced to slave for a man not half the man I was
You must decide for yourself
Your fighting spirit’s stronger than ours, your stamina never fails
Yearning now to be gone and home once more
Though his knees buckle, struggling home at last
May I find an unswerving wife when I reach home, and loved ones hale
Delight in your loyal wives and children, (spoken to his men)
May you take joy in this house of yours, in your children, your people, in Alcinous the king!
With his fair share!
Where on earth am I?
The trials…Endure them all. You must. You have no choice. And to no one-no man no woman, not a soul- reveal that you are the wanderer home at last. No, in silence you must bear a world of pain, subject yourself to the cruel abuse of men.
Brings my son to manhood!
Fire me with daring
Good name and all!
I am a rich man’s son
I was no fool and never shirked a fight
The labor that raises crops of shining children
Each man delights in the work that suits him best.
Taking joy in my children, loyal wife and lovely plunder
Bronze and gold and plenty of hard wrought iron, enough to last a man and ten generations of his heirs
Just think of the praise and fame I’d win among mankind, now and for all time to come.
The man for all occasions
The heart inside me longs for home at last
Going home
Balance is best in all things
Honor and glory to us
I must go back to my own home at once…to guard my own possessions…or lose some priceless treasure from my house!
Return in joy to your own grand house, your native land at last.
I mean to go to town and do my begging, not be a drain on you and all your men.
Find a handout
Spare me a plateful? Look at all they have! I’d do good work for them, promptly, anything they want.
Tramping about the world-there’s nothing worse for a man, But the fact is that men put up with misery to stuff their cursed bellies.
Her death is the worst blow he’s had to suffer
As a father, brimming with love, welcomes home his darling only son in a warm embrace, home now, “You’re home…home at last.”
Her life an endless hardship
True to her husband’s bed, the people’s voice as well
It’s hard for a man to win his way against a mob, even a man of iron. They are much too strong.
I am your father
I have come home to native ground at last
Both men so filled with compassion
I like to tell the truth and tell it plainly
The wayworn stranger home
A stiff following wind that sped me home to the native land I love.
And so the servant led his master toward the city, looking for all the world like an old and broken beggar
Learned his lazy ways
He steeled himself instead, his mind in full control
My heart is steeled by now
Bring the trial on
Like an old and broken beggar, his body wrapped in shameful rags
Beg from one and all. Bashfulness, for a man in need, is no great friend.
Who is this? Where’s he from?
Who the fellow is or where he thinks he comes from
Bent on feeding your own face
Shameless beggar! Scrounging food from each man in turn, and look at their handouts, reckless, never a qualm, no holding back, not making free with the next man’s goods
Hard-pressed by need
Look out for your own skin first
This tramp, this public nuisance, who used to scrounge a living round the streets of Ithaca-notorious for his belly, a ravenous, bottomless pit for food and drink, but he had no pith, no brawn.
Insatiable tramp
The one who knew the world
Steel his heart
The renown I had would only grow in glory
Lazy ways…you’ve got no itch to stick to good hard work…begging
So much daring
I won’t put up with a man who shirks his work
I dread the shame my countrywomen would heap upon me
Odysseus, man of exploits, will be home with you
Yearning now to be gone and home once more
Though his knees buckle, struggling home at last
May I find an unswerving wife when I reach home, and loved ones
May you take joy in this house of yours, in your children, your people, in Alcinous, the king!
With his fair share!
Where on earth am I?
All the spoil I’d won atTroy, the plunder I went to hell and back to capture
The trials…Endure them all. You must. You have no choice. And to no one-no man, no woman, not a soul-reveal that you are a wanderer home at last. No, in silence you must bear a world of pain, subject yourself to the cruel abuse of men.
Brings my son to manhood!
Fire me with daring
Stranger devour our livelihood
Shame
Stoops to peddling lies
His sense of balance
Good name and all!
Who are you? Where are you from? Your city? Your parents?
I am a rich man’s son.
I was no fool and never shirked a fight.
The labor that raises crops of shining children
Taking joy in my children, loyal wife and lovely plunder
Treated me kindly, asked for no reward at all
Bronze and gold and plenty of hard wrought iron, enough to last a man and ten generations of his heirs
Think of the praise and fame I’d win among mankind, now and for all time to come
The man for all occasions
Wrong to rove so far, so long from home, leaving your own holdings unprotected-crowds in your palace so brazen they’ll carve up your wealth, devour it all
True to you as always
The heart inside me longs for home at last
Going home
It’s honor and glory to us
I must go back to my own home at once, to guard my own possessions, or lose some priceless treasure from my house!
Return in joy…to your own grand house
Do my begging, not be a drain on you and all your men
Find a handout
Spare me a plateful? Look at all they have! I’d do good work for them.
Tramping about the world-there’s nothing worse for a man. But the fact is that men put up with misery to stuff their cursed bellies.
For his wife…her death is the worst blow he’s had to suffer
As a father, brimming with love, welcomes home his darling son
You’re home
Her life and endless hardship
True to her husband’s bed, the people’s voice as well
It’s hard for a man to win his way against a mob, even a man of iron. They are much too strong.
He wastes away
I am your father
Odysseus kissed his son
I have come home to native ground at last
Both men so filled with compassion
I like to tell the truth and tell it plainly
A stiff following wind that sped me home to the native land I love
Learned his lazy ways too well
He steeled himself instead, his mind in full control
My heart is steeled by now. Bring the trial on.
Bent on feeding your own face
Shameless beggar, scrounging food, handouts, never a qualm, no holding back when making free with the next man’s goods
Hard-pressed by need
I know all about that man…it’s been my lot to suffer what he’s suffered
Look out for your own skin first
This tramp, this public nuisance, scrounge, notorious for his belly, a ravenous, bottomless pit for food and drink, but he had no pith, no brawn.
You’ve got no call to grudge me what’s not yours
They all mouthed the oath that he required
Insatiable tramp
The one who knew the world
You surpass all women in build and beauty, refined and steady mind.
The renown I had would only grow in glory
Accept the. How ungracious to turn those gifts away!
You’ve learned your lazy ways too well, you’ve got noo itch to stick to good hard work, begging
A puny crowd, ill-bred to boot
You odious
So much daring
I won’t put up with a man who shirks his work
He’s come of age at last
A kingdom vast, proud and strong
I yearn for Odysseus
I dread the shame my countrywomen would heap upon me
Their minds work as one
Odysseus will return!
So sensible, so apt, in every word you say
He told his tale with style
Filled with the best that life can offer
Odysseus, man of exploits, will be home with you!
Their outrage
But you held fast
So he forced his spirit into submission, the rage in his breast reined back-unswerving, all endurance.
Guards you in all your trials to the last
Never let me warm the heart of a weaker man!
She stood beside him, knew him, now, at last
He’d grind the scoundrels’ lives out in revenge
They’ve got no sense of shame.
What roots does this man claim-who are his people? Where are his blood kin? His father’s fields?
Odysseus will come home
My father won it for me, so it’s mine
A lawless boor
I’d rather die, yes, better that by far, than have to look on at your outrage day by day: guests treated to blows, men dragging the serving women through our noble house, exploiting them all, no shame!
The one who offers most
I have eyes and ears, and both my feet, still, and a head that’s fairly sound, nothing to be ashamed of. These will do
A useless dead weight on the land
A young boy on a mission
A distant embassy made to right that wrong
Ties that bind
The man I follow
Hi tensing zeal
Wounded pride
A disgrace to ring in the ears of men to come
You filthy drifter! Feast at your ease with us, the island’s pride?
We’ll hang our heads in shame
How can you hope for any public fame at all? You who disgrace, devour a great man’s house and home!
I hold the reins of power in this house
If you serve too many masters, you’ll soon suffer
In his house
Your crucial test is finished now, at last!
Give me glory!
Paid for all your crimes!
So fight-call up the joy of battle! Swords out!
She kept on testing Odysseus and his gallant son, putting their force and fighting heart to proof.
Carry off the glory!
Clearly doing good puts doing bad to shame.
Overcome with a lovely longing, broke down and wept…deep in his heart he knew them one and all.
Her husband was here now, home at last. He’s come home, at long last!
You two can embark, loving hearts, along the road to joy.
Home at his hearth, and found you, found his son.
He’s paid them back, right in his own house!
The son we bore together.
We two will know each other, even better-we two have secret signs, known to us both but hidden from the world.
Home at last for her
The most understanding man alive
The soul of loyalty, in his arms at last
Let’s go to bed, dear woman-at long last delight in sleep, delight in each other, come!
There’s hope that we’ll escape our trials at last
So husband and wife confided in each other
Rejoicing in each other, they returned to their bed, the old familiar place they loved so well
Now that we’ve arrived at our bed together
He had a heart of iron
The solemn honors owed the dead
Long-enduring Odysseus
Father-I am your son. Home after twenty years.
Hugged him to his heart
So father and son confirmed each other’s spirits
Knew him in their bones
All disgraced, even by generations down the years, If we don’t punish the murderers of our brothers and our sons!
You’ll learn soon enough-as you move up to fight where champions strive to prove themselves the best
Laertes called out in deep delight, What a day for me, dear gods! What joy-my son and my grandson vying over courage!
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Goodness Is Cool 