'What could be more beautiful than listening to a singer of tales?'Say no to plagiarism. Get a tailor-made essay on “Why Violent Video Games Should Not Be Banned”?Get the original essayBook 9 opens with what might be called an apologia from the poet: “what could be more beautiful / Than to listen to a singer of tales' (9.2-3)1. Odysseus praises Demodocus, the blind bard, and at the same time Homer praises his own art of story-telling, an art which I will examine in the course of this essay, through two books which occupy an important particular theme in the Odyssey. The first of these, volume 9, involves Odysseus' encounter with Polyphemus, the man-eating Cyclops, while in the second, volume 19, the hero, now in the guise of an old beggar , meets his wife, Penelope. They both challenge and stretch the protagonist, whether emotionally, physically, or mentally, and in doing so the episodes emphasize and augment many of the epic's pervasive thematic and narrative features. As a protagonist, of course, Odysseus is a galvanizing character himself. strength in the poem. Even when he does not occupy the foreground of the narrative, as in Telemachy, Odysseus provides a center for the actions and words of those on whom Homer chooses to focus. Penelope's lingering grief, Telemachus's journey, and the presence of the suitors all arise from the troubles of this unique character. It is therefore not surprising that there is sometimes only an oblique distinction between "characteristic" and "theme", as is the case for half-breeds (intelligence/cunning). Physical prowess alone is not enough to justify the label “hero.” Strength must be balanced with mental dexterity and ingenuity, faculties that Odysseus applies to great effect during his escape from Polyphemus' cave: “My name is Nobody. They call me Noman. My mother, my father and all my friends too!' (9.364-365) Odysseus hatches a plan that simultaneously punishes the Cyclops and ensures that he and his men are freed from the dwelling, and although physical force is involved, the hero could not have escaped without this quality of d 'spirit. Sheila Murnaghan further notes that one of the many forms of "non-man" in Greek is actually mongrel, an irony sadly lost in translation.2 Above all, Odysseus defines himself, both immediately and through his action, as a trickster. His words are not empty either, and time and time again in the Odyssey he proves himself to be a warrior of the utmost intelligence, as demonstrated by the meticulously planned deaths of the suitors (book 22). Yet Odysseus's self-label here also reflects the functional use of epithets in the narrative. The poet frequently applies the term polumêtis to the hero, meaning "half-breed in abundance", and books 9 and 19 illustrate the repeated application of a variety of epithets, including "cunning" (9.22, 19.640), "Son of Laertes » (9.21). , 503, 524 and 19.179, 268, 371), “like God” (19.234, 293) and “perfect” (19.355, 499). Almost like layers of paint on a canvas, a portrait of the multifaceted Odysseus is constructed, and the same technique is used to depict other characters; Athena, for example, is continually called "gray-eyed." Homer also uses the repetition of certain syntactic units. “Rose-fingered dawn” is perhaps the most obvious of these, while in book 19 alone the phrase “teeming spirit” of Odysseus appears no less than eleven times.3 What What we can then see is that the epithets and repeated lines act as narrative building blocks which both punctuate thestory and allow it to progress smoothly. This formal quality serves to highlight the oral tradition from which the Odyssey descends, and improvising singers like Demodocus would have used repetition to structure their pieces, as well as to provide much-needed opportunities to think about the future. It is interesting to note that Odysseus is not the only individual. with whom the word mixed race is associated. Antinous cites Penelope as “who knows more tricks than any woman alive” (2.96). Certainly, the weaving and unweaving of Laertes' shroud, a trick that keeps the suitors at bay for nearly four years, is a deception of which the hero himself would have been proud. Penelope recounts these “tricks” to her disguised husband in book 19 (lines 154-177), and it is significant that this is the second retelling of the Odyssey episode. Penelope's description of events corresponds to that recounted in Book 2 (lines 101-120), by Antinous, word for word, but for the necessary shift from the third to the first person. However, this change in perspective is important. On the one hand, Antinous addresses Telemachus as follows: It is not the suitors who are at fault, but your own mother (2.94-95). But, on the other hand, Penelope's response to the situation is markedly different: The men burst in and grabbed me, and a scream went up. So I was forced to finish the shroud. Now I can't escape marriage. I'm at the end of my tether. (19.168-170)Here, the language is that of coercion, incarceration, even violence. The telling of the story in Volume 19 is more than just narrative repetition. We are offered contrary testimony in Book 2, one that places the “fault” at the feet of the Suitors rather than Penelope. And this antithesis is indicative of the transient nature of point of view in the Odyssey as a whole, a trait that foreshadows the "stream of consciousness" used by modernist novelists such as Joyce and Woolf. The murder of Agamemnon, presented by Zeus in volume 1, Menelaus in volume 4, and finally the shadow of Agamemnon himself in volume 11, is a particularly strong example of this narrative technique. Homer first offers the perspective of the divine; secondly, the human; and third, the dead. The Odyssey is a poem of changes in perspective, but also of temporal changes. Throughout the Odyssey, the past interpolates the present, as is the case in Book IX, where, in the comfort of the Phecian palace, Odysseus recounts his misfortunes after the Greek triumph at Troy. Much comment has been made on the complex, perhaps even convoluted, structure of the poem, but it allows for the juxtaposition of characters and situations which, in turn, augment some of the story's pervasive themes. For example, Book 9 explores the conventions of hospitality and civility through a contrast between the Phaeacians and the Cyclops. The book opens with Odysseus extolling the feasting, drinking, and singing of Alcinous's court as "the most beautiful thing in the world" (9, 12). The tale then travels back an entire decade as he recounts his encounters with the Cicones, the Lotus Eaters and Polyphemus. As Steve Reece notes, the finale is far from welcoming: Instead of giving them a meal, he makes a meal of them [...] This is surely the darkest form of parody. (Steve Reece, A Stranger's Welcome, University of Michigan Press 1993, p. 134) The Cyclops' inversion of guest-friendship is certainly surprising. Reece argues that the scene follows the pattern of hospitality shown earlier by the Phaeacians (as well as Nestor and Menelaus), but that the conventions are continually reversed. Thus, the revelation of the guest's true name occurs at departure rather than upon arrival; the guest isquestioned before and not after the meal, as was the tradition; the gifts exchanged (Ulysses' wine and Polyphemus' sardonic promise) aim at destruction; and the host issues a curse rather than a blessing when his guest leaves. This is not to say that Odysseus and his men are free from blame: they enter the cave uninvited, happily feast on its stocks, then blind their host and flee with his flock. It is important to note that Polyphemus' bastardy in matters of friendship with guests resonates with the later transgressions of the Suitors, who devour the riches of their host's household and react with aggression toward anyone they consider a beggar. And this tension between the civilized and the savage, the hospitable and the inhospitable is found in book 19, where the tenderness of Euryclea is opposed to the harshness of Mélanthon, who threatens to strike the disguised Ulysses with a torch (19 , 72-75). Reece highlights another inversion here, in that the torch is associated with fire, warmth and shelter. Yet there is a second key contrast in Book 19, between Odysseus the boy and Odysseus the man, and as in Book 9, it is achieved by means of a temporal shift in the narrative. Odysseus' memory of the wound he received from a wild boar's tusk while visiting his grandfather, Autolycus, on Parnassus, briefly takes the reader back to the hero's childhood: Odysseus rushed at him, holding his spear high, eager to thrust. too quickly. (19.488-490) Odysseus's recklessness as a teenager is juxtaposed with the patience and restraint he displays during his conversation with Penelope, where his "eyes were as firm [...] as they were made of horn or iron” (19.27). -28). Here we have Odysseus in microcosm: a man who learns from his experiences in order to avoid repeating previous mistakes. The bloodstained hero's refusal to "rejoice in the slain" in Book 22 (l.436) indicates that he has learned the lessons taught by his encounter with Polyphemus, where his jeers and boasts arouse the wrath of Poseidon. Throughout the poem, the reader sees the protagonist grow. The Odyssey is a journey towards self-discovery, as much as a return journey. Interestingly, young Odysseus also serves as a foil to Telemachus, whose coming of age is another important theme of the epic, and in book 19 he is twice mentioned as a "man » ; first by his father (19.96), then by his mother (19.174). The interpolation of the present with the past then acts as a crucial narrative device, in that it highlights many of the Odyssey's central themes and ideas. Past time and present time collide throughout the story, and the result is a vivid picture of an irreparably changed post-war world. Retrospection is continually accompanied by exhibitions of sorrow, as Odysseus acknowledges at the beginning of book 9: But you intend to bring my pains and sorrows out of me and make me feel them again. (9.13-14) These are the words of a veteran and they summarize the struggle to contain and understand the painful nature of the past in the poem. In Book 4, the characters Menelaus, Helen, and Telemachus are united by their need to cry, and Books 9 and 19 end with “mourning”; Odysseus's men mourn their lost comrades (9.556-557) and Penelope sobs herself to sleep (19.664). Yet perhaps the most striking image of grief in Book 19 is brought out by means of a simile: The snow deposited on the mountain tops by the wild west wind slowly melts under the blow of the wind from the East, and as it melts, the rivers rise in their channels. (19.221-223)The tears ofPenelope is compared to the melting snow on mountain tops, in an extremely positive image. Cold and wildness are dissipated by warmth and gentleness, just as Odysseus' return will drive away the wildness of the suitors and the frozen, painful state of his wife. Thus, the comparison transforms Penelope's grief into an act that portends the hero's triumph. Coupled with her auspicious dream, in which the eagle breaks the necks of the geese, the poet prepares us for the climax of the story. As Agatha Thornton notes, in previous omens the raptor has caught its prey (15.174-176) and plucked it (.15.573-576), but, so far, has not actually killed it. 5 Homer uses similes throughout the Odyssey to focus the reader's attention on particular aspects, or nuances, of the story. In book 9, where Polyphemus is "like a mountain lion" (9.285) and Odysseus' men "like puppies" (9.282), similes are used to reinforce the contrast between wild and gentle, power and weakness . Sometimes the poet uses this narrative technique in connivance with another irony. The most notable example of this is the astonishing comparison of Odysseus in the role of the Weeping Woman in Book 8 (l.565), in which the images of the warrior and the widow are simultaneously juxtaposed and unified. Irony, or more specifically dramatic irony, also plays an important role. in the meeting between Odysseus and Penelope in disguise in book 19. We, as the audience or reader, are aware that Penelope is not and that the man she questions is, in fact, her own husband .6 And this in turn brings us to another major theme of the Odyssey, that of deception and identity. Self-preservation through self-suppression is one of the poem's pervasive ironies. Odysseus becomes a withered beggar only to defeat the suitors, just as by becoming "Noman" he is able to deceive and escape the Cyclops. Like his guardian god, Athena, Odysseus has a chameleon nature, which he uses skillfully, both to survive and, above all, to test. It is for this reason that as a king, he is willing to suffer a poor existence and, as a hero, to accept anonymity. He wishes to test Penelope's love and loyalty and see "if he [Cyclops] would give her a gift of hospitality" (9.220). Thornton points out that "testing a person is a well-established compositional theme in the Odyssey."7 Odysseus tests Laertes in book 24 and Eumaeus in book 15, while in return he himself is tested by his father (24.336-338) and twice by his wife (19.232, 23.179-186). The scar left by a boar's tusk constantly reminds Odysseus of the dangers of rash behavior. He is as precise in preparation as he is energetic in action. One might, however, question the moral certainty of the ordeal in book 19. Despite Agamemnon's warning "not to be gentle with his own wife" (11.458), Odysseus's refusal to reveal his true identity to Penelope seems rather cruel. Even when she breaks down in front of him, her grief a sure sign of his love, he still maintains his disguise. This is the woman he holds over Calypso, the woman he has not seen for twenty years, and yet he is as still as “iron”. Equally questionable is his blinding of Polyphemus and the particularly gruesome manner in which this is accomplished. After all, Odysseus, as I have already stated, is not a model host himself. Perhaps even more disturbing is the hero's conduct earlier in book 9, in Ismaros: "I pillaged the city and killed the men. The women and the treasures that we took away, I divided them as fairly as possible [...]" (9.42-44) Odysseus' actions appear here..113