Oddities of 'The Odyssey': Why Marital Trust Is Paramount.

If there is one piece of classic literature you should aim to read at least once in your life, Homer's 'The Odyssey' is a certainly unforgettable contender. When I realised that the original was in Ancient Greek however, as I yearned to read Homer's genuine words, I thought that translating might take a while- 'The Odyssey', after all, is an epic poem composed in 24 books. Yes, 24. As someone who has unfortunately not yet studied Ancient Greek, it does seem an unsurmountable feat at this point in time- but luckily, Robert Fitzgerald has composed one of the most well-known translations to this day, and it is beautiful. From this point forward in this post, I will refer to 'The Odyssey' as a novel (as that is how Fitzgerald has created it for modern consumption) yet I do acknowledge that this was not Homer's original intent.

Firstly, I want to discuss how strikingly modern Homer's relaying of Odysseus' life was. Not only did Homer decide to subvert from the original storytelling habits of epics like 'The Iliad' by not starting in-medias-res (in the thick of the action), Homer chooses to re-tell Odysseus' tale by beginning at the very end of Odysseus' weary ten year journey, and recounts his tale in the form of a conversation with various noble men that he meets from that point onward, with the unveiling of the tale happening smoothly and steadily, especially so for an audience not particularly well-versed in Greek mythology. Though this comment is not to undermine or invalidate Homer's work in any way, I imagine the modern millennial equivalent of telling such an epic would be something along the lines of 'Odysseus' Best Bits' on a YouTube montage. That's not to say millennials are not good storytellers. But mediums do change, with the point of such content to be as digestible as possible.

Despite these modern facets, however, Homer is very much within his* contemporary boundaries when it comes to relationships, particularly when it comes to romantic and sexual relationships and the worship of divinities. It would be intrinsically wrong of me, as a woman part of a 21st century audience, to argue that Odysseus is the paradigm of an ideal husband, especially with his casual retellings of the women he had slept with on his journey (which I hope, for Penelope's sake, he left out of his recount to her over dinner). But you see, this is where one reaches a stalemate when arguing whether Odysseus deserved to be welcomed home with open arms; these weren't mortal women he was having sex with: these were goddesses themselves. Does it improve his legendary status among men, especially when many sexual encounters were regarded as a sign of virility for the alpha male? Of course it does, especially if Homer was catering to an audience who were literate (men). When one thinks of 'the other wom[en]' we may often think of a human who is plausibly lower in status but exists as a paragon of desire, in either that they pose a challenge (perhaps they are more attractive than the virtuous woman, or perhaps they are initially hesitant to having an affair) or that their desirability lies in their symbol as an achievement to the married man- as though he may have a spouse and even children, he is still desirable to women who have a whole host of other options. For a goddess, several attributes correspond to this idea- they are incomprehensibly attractive (as stated by Odysseus himself: "[Penelope] falls short of you [Calypso], / your beauty, stature .She is mortal after all / and you, you never age or die...") and are the ultimate, beyond a mirage, accomplishment to seduce or to have been seduced by, yet they have the two qualities that have put them on a completely different 'playing field' to Penelope; their status is legendary rather than finite human, and ideas of promiscuity and sexual profligacy are of no matter to them because their stations could never 'descend' to that of a human prostitute/lowlier than a pure human female. In fact, it was almost like they were owed sex from whoever they desired, as befitting their status with the clear subservience of the Ancient Greeks to the gods and goddesses they would pay homage to as a daily ritual, often at mealtimes or at sacrificial events.

One may argue that this is not an open-ended question, as our customs and burdens of fidelity and monogamy are not the same as they were thousands of years ago. You could even describe our societal expectations of faithfulness as rather too onerous for the Ancient Greeks- perhaps they would even think them too frail for the rigidity that we attempt to impose upon our world. They probably would have thought the pre-21st century salient strictness on pre-marital and extra-marital relations preposterously impossible to abide by. Sexuality, gender, and desire were much more fluid during the times of the Ancient Greeks- and, like Madeline Miller's interpretation of Patroclus and Achilles' 'close partnership', would same-sex alliances be so frowned upon as they were up until barely two decades ago? Probably not.

Stephanie Coontz argues that 'for most of history it was inconceivable that people would choose their mates on the basis of something as fragile and irrational as love and then focus all their sexual, intimate, and altruistic desires on the resulting marriage... [O]nly rarely in history has love been seen as the main reason for getting married. When someone did advocate such a strange belief, it was no laughing matter. Instead, it was considered a serious threat to social disorder', suggesting that love and affection as a marital base is something that has only arisen in the last 200 years or so. It would be wrong of me to describe Ancient Greek relations as something pre-historic, but more befitting of pragmatic: men and women were attracted by youth, fertility, genetic compatibility, and perfect coincidence, rather than sentiment- that was an attribute to a relationship that was much less important and left to develop over time rather than as a marker for a relationship to begin. In a society based upon survival, the consolidation of land ownership, heirs, and dominion over a household were the key tactics to the survival of a lineage, particularly a noble one like Odysseus'.

That is not to say that women were regarded as sexually fluid beings- many were carefully chaperoned by males of the household in public, rarely showing their face until marriage, with virginity being the superlative requirement, with many women being married off as soon as puberty began to take on the domestic duties that would consume the rest of their days. Marriage was the transfer between two men to maintain/improve status, with women having little-to-no say in the matter, with the acceptance that life would be much the worse if they refused to consent, as the alternative of 'independence' was either a reputation for undesirability or a spinster, with the likelihood that survival would depend on selling their bodies for labour or for sexual favours. This cemented the companionship between men and women; it was a symbiotic relationship with both profiting from status elevation, safety from other men, and reproductive security. I like to then think that there would be a certain amount of trust there; certainly for women who would certainly be in a worse position when single, but also for men since they benefitted hugely from the economic/status benefits marriage has brought him. Yet with women providing a stationary, consistent reliability in the home domain, what did men have to lose from seeking pleasure elsewhere? His wife couldn't physically disable him from doing so, despite possibly feeling owed loyalty for keeping her chastity and her provision of domestic preservation for her husband. As a matter of fact, the rituals we see in a typical romance (chasing of the reluctant partner) were owed rather to homosexuality, with the older boys of the Greek gymnasium 'preying' upon younger boys for emotional and physical intimacy. As this ceremonial aspect of affection would pertain to those who one would think ludicrous for the potential solidarity of a marriage partner (men did not marry other men, as beyond boyhood these 'relationships' would have appeared questionable, and marrying a goddess was exceedingly rare, with examples such as Ariadne and Dionysus being viewed as, I suppose, a fantasy for many). I imagine it was an austere comfort for Penelope knowing that her husband would return to her and only to her, bound by an oath, but also by love, as she keeps her own suitors at bay as she 'seduced them' with a 'scheme' where she vows to weave a garment that, once finished, will be a signal to her suitors that she is ready to remarry- yet the cunning Penelope continued to unravel and redo her work, buying time for her lover to return. She is so deep in her agony of grief that she craves the peacefulness of death She even wishes for death, hoping that the 'chaste Artemis' would give her 'a death so soft, and now' so that she 'would not go on in [her] heart grieving all [her] life, and longing for love of a husband excellent in every virtue'.

I think that it is safe to say that Penelope adores Odysseus with every fibre of her being, perhaps she would even welcome his affectations with goddesses if it brought her husband any temporary happiness, yet it does not disguise the fact that Odysseus made love to someone far superior in status and beauty than herself- and when such a relationship revolves around waiting upon the return of one's partner, the test of loyalty for both parties becomes paramount, yet Penelope is the one being criticised for 'entertaining' her suitors despite the fact she has no control of their invasion of her premises? Must one party (almost always female) be chastised for her own Petrarchan lovers whilst the other party has full, arrogant confidence that their lover will remain faithful whilst he selfishly explores the life of a bachelor once more? It is also well recounted that Odysseus is not regarded as a 'sinless' character; he appears at almost the very bottom layer of hell in Dante's Inferno for his deception using the Trojan horse to unfairly win the war (despite claims that the two characters are different), he sacrifices all of his men to aid his own safe return, and the most telling feature is his owning of at least fifty female slaves. A 21st century audience is libel to rebuke Odysseus' actions, yet again, we must remember how different customs were for both men and women of the time- had Penelope been unfaithful, she would have probably been killed in her own household, had she slept with god or mortal. It is a most interesting double standard, which is noted strikingly within the microcosm of Olympia itself, with Calypso scolding Zeus: 'You unrivalled lords of jealousy—

scandalized when goddesses sleep with mortals.' It is almost humorous but, I expect, sadly unsurprising that Homer chose to depict that a patriarchal society even exists within the commune of deities- though male gods very commonly take lovers in the forms of queens and princesses, Zeus himself often intervenes to stop goddesses doing the same, perhaps implying that harmony in Olympia was very like Earth in that it involved the subjugation of females to keep natural order.

We must then dive deeper into Odysseus' infidelities: were they truly consensual? In some translations of 'The Odyssey', Odysseus was reportedly raped by two goddesses: Calypso, who traps Odysseus on her island for 7 years, and Circe, who was banished to the island of Helios by her father, and, now eternally alone, she hones her supernatural crafts. Emily Wilson, in searching for characters/events that relate to feminism, describe that 'the divine Calypso, Aphrodite, and Circe provide passionate models of female power- idealised fantasies of how much agency mortal women might have, if only social circumstances were completely different.' It then seems that, though Calypso and Circe are independent women in their own right, that they are rather oversexualised, dreamlike variations of female predators, rather than being portrayed as women who are reclaiming their power from men- the 'Fallen Women' in Stoker's Dracula are not far from this narrative once they achieve immortality. Not unlike Charybdis and Scylla, women who do are not suited to the empire of virtuous, women (the 'Madonna's' of the Earth) are often portrayed in classic literature as evil mistresses or monsters that have the sole intention of corrupting good men from their mortal wives, rather than being able to exist with their own agency as independent women. However, the translation of Calypso's and Odysseus' relationship in some versions of the work, is 'he had no choice—

unwilling lover alongside lover all too willing', suggests that Calypso either compelled Odysseus to engage in intercourse or, forcefully, her supernatural strength was used to rape and force Odysseus to submit to her will, with a possible comparison to the slave trade and the particular mistreatment of female slaves that ironically remain in Odysseus' own household. Therefore, we cannot argue that Odysseus was disloyal to Penelope here; we can only argue that infidelity as a theme is interwoven with the hardships that Odysseus experienced on his adventure in a quest to return to his lover.

Yet, one must also consider the sorceress Circe's relationship with Odysseus. Upon visiting Circe, who is infamous for using potions and incantations, it would appear that Odysseus' confession to adultery with the minor goddess is completely consensual: in some versions, Circe invites Odysseus to 'Mix in the magic work of love—we’ll breed deep trust between us.' Once again, sexual relations are evidently seen as ways to create companionship, testimony, and trust. Since taking drugs/potions are often associated with temptation and submission, Circe's metaphor can be read as either a profound promise to assist Odysseus, or a rather scandalous request to temporarily dismiss his marriage and engage in impulses concealed for so long. I argue that it was a combination of both: a startling momentary weakness from the quintessential example of a male as a reminder of Odysseus' flawed humanity, and the transactional quality of intercourse. However, since Odysseus lived with Circe for a year, taking advantage of her hospitality, it is likely he submitted to this temptation more than once, evident in the fact that the couple are estimated to have had up to 3 children, one being Telegonous, who eventually kills his own father.

One may think, then, if relationships were so flexibly investable, why did Penelope wait so long for Odysseus to return to her?

I think the answer lies in several complex factors.

Penelope was the epitome of the perfectly heartbroken, dutiful wife. With the glorification of her pain and longing for Odysseus, her mind was probably so clouded with heartache and reminiscence that she either did not consider that Odysseus was alive to love another woman/was so sure in their relationship that he would not betray her. Furthermore, Penelope was a woman. Had she remarried, her new husband would have been eternally compared to the heroic, fabled Odysseus, and she may have even faced public disgrace from Ithacans who practically worshipped Odysseus. I suppose it may have also removed the endurable, stoic quality of her character: it would have been absurdly easy to brand her as weak and even justifiable for Odysseus' extra-marital relations.

Secondly, it appears obvious that Odysseus' mission is to return to his wife and son despite the situations he finds himself in. Though he may have found temporary pleasure sleeping with other women, if sex is transactional, they are likely to be part of a miscellanea that is not worthy relaying to others, especially if the objective is escape in lieu of conquest. Though they are miraculous events, they still bear little worth when the focus is on returning to domestic rather than living lavishly in foreign life, which in itself establishes a tier of importance concerning emotional and physical devotion: if the Greeks believed in the interrelation of mental and physical harmony, then, if his mind continued to desire Penelope, his body did too, looking to mere replacements to find solace- as his mind belonged with Penelope, he was still in the transitory physical state of re-joining her presence. Since Penelope was a virtuous, faithful wife, she probably maintained confidence in Odysseus' emotional faithfulness, which, for aims of trust, companionship, and dedication, was much more important than our physical selves, which are mortal and uninhibited. And, for women who often could not leave marriages for contractual and safety reasons as well as the expectation that men had the right to take any women they wanted, Odysseus' pledged return (no matter his illicit behaviours on the way) was the best case scenario, as it was a promise cemented by marital trust.

Notes:

*By some accounts, Homer may have been one person, or multiple. I go by the principle that although there were several contributors potentially going by the alias Homer, there was likely one sole writer (likely male due to the lack of female education at the time) who constructed a large part of the epic 'The Odyssey' and 'The Illiad', but received influence through storytelling, and may have had edits/changes upon his work by other sources.