آخرین سفر اودیسئوس

تصور عمومی این است که پایان سفر "اودیسئوس"، جایی ست که با شادی و خوشحالی به آغوش خانواده اش بر می گردد.
اما این پایان نیست. نه برای اودیسئوس، نه. برای اودیسئوس این تازه آغاز اصلی ترین ماجراست. اودیسئوسی که "کوکلوپس" غول یک چشم را کور کرد، اودیسئوسی که از دهان هیولای دریا "خاروبدیس" بیرون جست، اودیسئوسی که با "پوزئیدون" خدای دریا پنجه در پنجه افکند، اودیسئوسی که یارانش را از هزار مهلکه گذراند، حال باید بنشیند و همسرش "پنه لوپه" را تماشا کند که چطور آرام آرام پارچه می بافد و پسر جوانش "تله ماخوس" را ببیند که چطور هر روز و هر روز گوسفندان را به چرا می برد، بنگرد که چطور همه چیز به آرامی کسالت بار و بی معنایی می گذرد و او قدم به قدم به سوى مرگ محتوم خود پیش می رود، مرگی که بارها در ماجراجویی های خود شکستش داده بود. اما اکنون، چگونه باید پیرمرْگى را شکست داد؟

"هومر"، به شیوه ی نویسندگان امروزی، تنها مقدمات داستان اودیسئوس را برای ما باز گفته و داستان را دقیقاً در نقطه ی شروع به پایان رسانده تا خودمان حدس بزنیم چه تراژدی عظیم و توصیف ناپذیری در برابر اودیسئوس، این قهرمان محبوب ما قرار گرفته است: تراژدی بی معنایی و کسالت. تراژدی زندگی آرام!

این است که شاعران بعدی، زندگی اودیسئوس را از همان جا که هومر به پایان رساند، آغاز کرده اند: همواره همین است، چه در روایت "دانته"، چه در روایت "آلفرد تنیسون"، اودیسئوس، اودیسئوسی که از مبارزه با خدایان و دیوها سربلند بیرون آمده بود، اکنون در مبارزه با زندگی آرام، کمر خم می کند. عاقبت بوی نمک دریاهای ناشناخته، بوی شن ساحل های دوردست، آرامش نمی گذارد. چه پایانی جز این می شود برای او تصور کرد؟ یک بار دیگر یارانش را جمع می کند، و فریاد می زند «زندگی آرام و بیهوده را واگذارید و بیایید بار دیگر به جستجوی چیزی که خود نمی دانیم چیست بادبان بکشیم!»

«کوشیدن، جستجو کردن،
نیافتن، و باز تسلیم نشدن.»
آلفرد تنیسون، اولیس

thank you, boring book I had to read for school, for contributing to my failing Goodreads reading challenge

I honestly thought my feelings on this would change since reading it back in high school, but nope. Not enough time spent on the interesting parts of the story (Polyphemus, Circe), and far too much time farting around in Ithaca.

The salt-encrusted reader has completed his voyage.

He has met many mythical men and gods, some women also. The scheming killer Aegisthus, divine Calypso, the Sun God, the savage Cyclops who filled his belly with human meat; the enchantress Circe with her braided hair; the prophet Tiresias; Scylla, barking and howling, and Charybdis, who sucks black water down; Owl-eyed Athena; silver-bowed Apollo; Artemis, Aphrodite, the Harpies.

He has seen vernal dawn touch the sky with flowers; seen her fingers bloom; heard the sounding purple sea rush round the stern and pure Zephyr whistling on wine-dark sea. He has sailed over the watery waves; he has seen darkness drench the eyes of a suitor in desperate pain, an arrow piercing his liver; he has beheld a sky of bronze.

He has wondered at Odysseus, a complicated man – the man who can adapt to anything; the man who, alive, visited Hades; the master of plots and plans; lying Odysseus, the ruiner of his wife's suitors; the wanderer, come home after the War years and years later. Long-suffering Odysseus, crafty Odysseus; unflappable Odysseus; the strategist Odysseus, the master of deception, the trickster, the master liar, he who can smile in scornful rage. Lord Odysseus, weathered Odysseus. Warlike Odysseus.

He has marveled at Penelope, who speaks shrewdly, who speaks to test her husband, who melts the reader's heart.

He has read of much weeping. SO MUCH weeping. By MEN! Greece a land of weepers.

He, like Odysseus, has come home.







He wishes to thank Kris for the invitation to this perfectly paced group read; to thank the other readers who contributed such useful comments; and to thank especially Emily Wilson for her wonderful translation, her great summaries of the books, her informative notes, and her outstanding Introduction to The Odyssey.

If I review "2018 on Goodreads", this will certainly be a highlight.




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Previous review: The Waning of the Middle Ages
Next review: JRZDVLS
Older review: Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man

Previous library review: The Suppliants Aeschylus
Next library review: The Odyssey: A Modern Sequel

The Odyssey is, well, the Odyssey. Beyond being a tremendously exciting read, it is a foundational work in Western literature.

It is a glorious story of love and war, gods and humans, adventure in and around the Mediterranean (and, some argue, out to the West Indies). On the surface simply the story of Odysseus's adventures after the fall of Troy, it is a rich tapestry of places, characters, and creatures which have entered into the basic language of Western literature.

For academic study of the Odyssey, Lattimore's translation is the preferred text, in part because it remains closest to the Greek text. And Lattimore's is a fine translation. But I find Fitzgerald's translation more alive, more exciting, more compelling. It is modern without being overly glib, a fault I find Fagles and Lombardo sometimes falling into.

For serious teaching and study, I stick with Lattimore. But for reading pleasure -- I have read the Odyssey perhaps a dozen times in at least a half-dozen translations, and still find it has riches I never previously noticed -- I turn by preference to Fitzgerald.

If you haven't read this Odyssey, do so. Definitely do so. What else can I say?

"Volver, con la frente marchita, las nieves del tiempo platearon mi sien. Sentir, que es un soplo la vida, que veinte años no es nada, que febril la mirada, errante en las sombras, te busca y te nombra. Vivir, con el alma aferrada, a un dulce recuerdo que lloro otra vez."

Concuerdo totalmente con el periodista y traductor Joan Casas, cuando en el prólogo de esta edición nos dice que si se hubieran reunido temas y canciones para una banda de sonido de este libro, hubiera sido su tema principal "Volver", ese inmortal tango de Gardel y Le Pera, que es el más odiseico de todos los tiempos, puesto que esas sentidas estrofas concuerdan con la historia de este héroe, Laertíada, raza de Zeus, agudisimo Ulises, aunque para mí con una salvedad: jamás Ulises vuelve con la frente marchita sino con ésta bien alta, más allá de los padeceres, deshonras y pérdidas que sufre en su periplo de retorno durante diez años, luego de otros diez luchando en Troya cuando finalmente pisa su amadísima Ítaca.
Siempre consideré que para leer la Odisea me era indispensable primero terminar la Ilíada aunque en realidad lo correcto sería primero leer la Teogonía de Hesíodo, en donde el aedo cuenta el origen del mundo hasta la aparición de todos los dioses del Olimpo que luego Homero y el resto de los poetas griegos más importantes tomarán como parte de sus relatos épicos y tragedias.
Luego viene la batalla de Troya tal como nos lo es contada en la Ilíada, y posteriormente, los libros que narran los retornos por un lado, de Ulises en la Odisea, el de Eneas en la Eneída luego de la destrucción de Troya (esto narrado por el poeta latino Virgilio pero que tiene directa conexión con los otros poemas épicos), junto con el regreso de Agamenón a su casa, narrado por Esquilo, con un resultado completamente opuesto al de Ulises, puesto que a diferencia de Penélope, es asesinado por su esposa Clitmnenestra y Egisto, su amante y posteriormente la Orestíada, también de Esquilo, que cuenta la venganza de Orestes, hijo de Agamenón, matando al asesino de su padre.
Lamentablemente yo no mantuve ese orden de lectura. Leí primero la Eneida, luego la Ilíada y Odisea y ahora comencé con la Teogonía.
Pero volvamos a esta maravilla de libro. Realmente he disfrutado de la misma manera que en la Ilíada lo que Homero nos cuenta en la Odisea con la diferencia que en este libro me ha sido aún más placentera su lectura, dado que noto una prosa más clara y más amena que en la Ilíada, más allá de estar escrita en hexámetros. Tal vez sea cierto lo que dicen los historiadores acerca de Homero y es que puede que separen a la Ilíada de la Odisea muchísimos años.
Es como que la primera fue relatada por un jovencísimo Homero, tal vez de 25 años, digamos, mientras que la segunda tienen otro tenor en sus hexámetros, como si las hubiera relatado un Homero de sesenta años.
Yendo a la historia propiamente, en la Odisea nos encontramos nuevamente con la intervención divina, con la diferencia de que en este libro no son tantos los dioses que aparecen. Díria que son cuatro: Poseidón, Zeus, Palas Atenea y Hermes.
La historia comienza cuando Homero narra la desgracia de Ulises mientras es retenido en una cueva por la ninfa Calipso quien a cambio le ofrece la inmortalidad. Palas Atenea oye los ruegos que le hace Ulises y lo libera, más le advierte que sufrirá muchos males y la muerte merodeará siempre a su alrededor.
Por el otro lado se viven las angustiosas horas de su esposa, la discreta Penélope y su único hijo Telémaco con el agravante de que creyendo la supuesta muerte del héroe es, su palacio visitado por muchos pretendientes, quienes comienzan a devastar todos las riquezas que Ulises dejó asi como cortejar también a Penélope para desposarla. Esto lleva a Telémaco a emprender un viaje en busca de su padre primero a Pilos y luego a Esparta en donde se encuentra con viejos héroes de guerra como el anciano Néstor y el átrida Menelao, hermano de Agamenón.
Ulises, en su travesía llega a Feacia en donde es recibido con amabilidad y honores. Allí encontrará a Demódoco, un aedo ciego, lo que nos hace pensar que Homero se homenajea a sí mismo para formar parte de las leyendas que este libro narra.
Pronto se tornará tortuosa su travesía y comienzan sus males cuando desata la furia del dios Poseidón por asesinar a su hijo (son tres los dioses más importantes en la mitología griega: Zeus, rey del Olimpo, portador de la égida y dueño del rayo y el trueno, Poseídon, quien sacude la tierra y controla los mares y Hades quien gobierna el Tártaro y el mundo de los muertos), el cíclope Polifemo que mantiene cautivo a Ulises y sus hombres en una caverna.
También tiene especial climax su encuentro con Circe, la perversa diosa que convierte a los dioses en animales que pone a Ulises y todos hombres a prueba y más tarde las cosas se ponen realmente negras durante su llegada a la isla donde pastan las Vacas del Sol, ya que serán castigados duramente y funesto será el desenlace que vivencien.
Más allá de tantas desgracias, siempre, en toda la historia, es Palas Atenea la diosa de proteger tanto a Ulises como a Penélope y Telémaco durante sus reiterados infortunios y cuenta además con la ayuda fundamental de otro dios: Hermes (o Mercurio en la mitología romana) cuando con "palabras aladas" deben hecerse llegar a uno u otros los mensajes más importantes.
Pero durará poco la paz para Ulises cuando ya lejos de Feacia tendrá que afrontar lo que Poseidón le tiene conjurado en su destino: sortear el acecho de las Sirenas que para muchos es la forma más fácil de identificar al libro, aunque a este encuentro Homero le dedica sólo una pequeña porción de hexámetros.
Para mí, el escollo más difícil, y mortal que debe sortear Ulises es en el estrecho entre dos los peñascos en los que se encuentran las infernales criaturas marinas que son Escila y Caribdes y es creo el peor momento que vive en toda su travesía. La muerte hace estragos en este pasaje.
Otro capitulo que me apasionó es su viaje hasta el Hades porque me hizo recordar al inovidable Canto VI de la Eneida cuando Eneas desciende a los infiernos para rescatar a su padre Anquises y por supuesto, al Infierno de Dante junto a Virgilio, quien casualmente creador de la Eneida.
Todo esto forma parte de la "ilación universal", como dice un querido amigo mío.
En el Hades, pasados los campos de Asfódelo, Ulises se reencontrará con las sombras de sus amigos muertos en la batallas en Troya. Desfilarán ante él Agamenón, asi también como la sombra su amada madre, muerta de pena, a Tiresias, el adivino ciego tebano (sí, el mismo que aparece en la tragedia Edipo Rey de Sófocles), a su admiradísimo e ilustre Pélida, Aquiles, a la sombra del bravo Ayax Telamonio ofendido y también un desfile innumerable de seres mitológicos como los titanes Tántalo, Sísifo y Hércules, hijo de Zeus. Le es encomendado enfrentarse con la gorgona Perséfone, pero no se arriesga y sigue su camino.
Y así, un día llega finalmente a su amada Ítaca, pero no será fácil tener a su esposa e hijos en sus brazos. Disfrazado por Palas Atenea como un mendigo deberá vivir un sinfín de deshonras y desgracias más aún ante una caterva de desagradables pretendientes que esquilman y saquean los bienes de su morada. Tanta insolencia los hará pagar caro, puesto que Ulises divino junto con su hijo telémaco, Eumeo y Filetio convertirá los pisos del palacio en un auténtico río de sangre, necesario para finalmente abrazar a su amada esposa y a su anciano padre Laertes.
Finalmente reinará la paz porque Zeus, ante los ruegos de Palas Atenea así lo dispuso.
Veinte años no es nada, agudísimo Ulises.
Puedes descansar tranquilo, ya que el fin justificó los medios.

"Din tot ce-n lume mișcă și răsuflă,
Nimic mai șubred pe pămînt ca omul.
Nu crede el c-are să dea vr-odată
De rău pînă ce zeii-i dau norocul
Să-i meargă toate-n plin și-i pot genuchii.
Iar cînd trimit răstriști asupra-i zeii,
Le rabdă el pe vrute, pe nevrute,
Căci mintea-ai se tot schimbă după ziua
Ce-o luminează Cel-de-sus."
"Să nu fie dar omul niciodată
Nedrept și rău, ci-n sine să se-mpace
Cu darurile ce-i făcură zeii."

(will write a review after all my schoolwork

3.5 stars.

As a lover of the Greek myths I've always thought it odd that I've never read The Odyssey. I think the sheer size of it, and the epic way it has always been written in the past has always put me off. Plus, surely by this point everyone knows the story of Odysseus and how he gets home after the Trojan War. What I didn't expect was a lot of talk of the sacred right of hospitality and how it is used both respectfully and also abused.

Strangers are sacred to Zeus, and as such are protected when asking for shelter. We all know what happened in Game of Thrones at the Red Wedding when this type of thing goes wrong, so it should come as no surprise that some things go down when Odysseus returns to Ithaca to find his home ruined by men looking to take his loyal wife Penelope as their new bride. Everyone believes him dead, but Odysseus is the prime example of a trickster, an intelligent man bent on scheming. It's one of the reasons Athena loves him so much after all. So taking on various disguises he sets about constructing his plan to take the men down with the help of his son, Telemachus.

I didn't expect this section of the story to be so long. I genuinely thought that the bulk of the story would consist of Odysseus's travels home facing the sirens and the cyclops and the sacred cows. It wasn't - and for that I felt a little let down as it was by the far the most interesting part of the story. Also, Odysseus at times just isn't that likeable. He's proud, with a quick temper, and he seems to think he's better than everyone else. Except his beloved Athena. He doesn't even seem to give Penelope any credit for remaing loyal for 20 years for a husband she thinks is dead.

I will give credit to this translation, which I found made the text incredibly accessible and easy to read. It flows in a way that makes it feel like it should be read aloud, and adds to the overall experience.

Group read: https://www.goodreads.com/group/show/...

ادیسه چندین سال پس از جنگ تروا رو روایت می‌کنه. بعد از جنگ تروا و پیروزی یونانیان، نفرین خدایان باعث میشه اونها در راه برگشت سختی‌های زیادی تحمل کنند و این کتاب به طور خاص به اولیس پرداخته. سالها پس از اینکه اولیس هنوز به خانه برنگشته، مردان ایتاک به صرافت ازدواج با پنه‌لوپ همسر اولیس افتادند و با گستاخی باعث رنج و عذاب اون و پسرش تلماک شدند. میشه گفت در مجموع کتاب سه بخش کلی داره. قسمتی مربوط به خواستگاران، تلماک و تلاش برای یافتن پدر، قسمتی شرح سفر اولیس و قسمت سوم برگشتن اولیس به خانه. این کتاب رو بیشتر از ایلیاد دوست داشتم چون اتفاقات و جریانهای خیلی بیشتر و جذابتری داشت.ه

The first line in Emily Wilson’s new translation of the Odyssey, the first by a woman scholar, is “Tell me about a complicated man.” In an article by Wyatt Mason in the NYT late last year, Wilson tells us

“I could’ve said, ‘Tell me about a straying husband.’ And that’s a viable translation. That’s one of the things [the original language] says…[But] I want to be super responsible about my relationship to the Greek text. I want to be saying, after multiple different revisions: This is the best I can get toward the truth.”

Oh, the mind reels. This new translation by Emily Wilson reads swiftly, smoothly, and feels contemporary. This exciting new translation will surprise you, and send you to compare certain passages with earlier translations. In her Introduction, Wilson raises that issue of translation herself: How is it possible to have so many different translations, all of which could be considered “correct”?

Wilson reminds us what a ripping good yarn this story is, and removes any barriers to understanding. We can come to it with our current sensibility and find in it all kinds of foretelling and parallels with life today, and perhaps we even see the genesis of our own core morality, a morality that feels inexplicably learned. Perhaps the passed-down sense of right and wrong, of fairness and justice we read of here was learned through these early stories and lessons from the gods. Or are we interpreting the story to fit our sensibility?

These delicious questions operate in deep consciousness while we pleasure in learning more about that liar Odysseus, described again and again as wily, scheming, cunning, “his lies were like truth.” He learned how to bend the truth at his grandfather’s knee, and the gods exploited that talent when they helped him out. The skill served him well, allowing him to confuse and evade captors throughout his ordeal, as well as keep his wife and father in the dark about his identity upon his return until he could reveal the truth at a time of maximum impact.

There does inevitably come a time when people react cautiously to what is told them, even to the evidence their own eyes. The gods can cloud one’s understanding, it is well known, and truth is suspected in every encounter. These words Penelope speaks:

"Please forgive me, do not keep
bearing a grudge because when I first saw you,
I would not welcome you immediately.
I felt a constant dread that some bad man
would fool me with his lies. There are so many
dishonest, clever men..."

Particularly easy to relate to today are descriptions of Penelope’s ungrateful suitors like Ctesippius, who "encouraged by extraordinary wealth, had come to court Odysseus’ wife." Also speaking insight for us today are the phrases "Weapons themselves can tempt a man to fight" and "Arms themselves can prompt a man to use them."

There is a conflicted view of women in this story: "Sex sways all women’s minds, even the best of them," though Penelope is a paragon of virtue, managing to avoid temptation through her own duplicitousness. She hardly seems a victim at all in this reading, merely an unwilling captor. She is strong, smart, loyal, generous, and brave, all the qualities any man would want for his wife.

We understand the slave girls that Odysseus felt he had to “test” for loyalty were at the disposal of the ungrateful suitors who, after they ate and drank at Penelope's expense, often met the house girls after hours. Some of the girls appeared to go willingly, laughing and teasing as they went, and were outspoken about their support of the men they’d taken up with. Others, we get the impression from the text, felt they had no choice.

Race is not mentioned but once in this book, very matter-of-factly, though the darker man is a servant to the lighter one:

"…[Odysseus] had a valet with him,
I do remember, named Eurybates,
a man a little older than himself,
who had black skin, round shoulders, woolly hair,
and was [Odysseus's] favorite our of all his crew
because his mind matched his."

Odysseus’s tribulations are terrible, but appear to be brought on by his own stubborn and petulant nature, like his taunting of the blinded Cyclops from his own escaping ship. Cyclops was Poseidon’s son so Odysseus's behavior was especially unwise, particularly since his own men were yelling at him to stop. Later, that betrayal of the men’s best interests for his own childish purpose will come back to haunt Odysseus when the men suspect him of thinking only of himself--greediness--and unleash terrible winds by accident, blowing them tragically off course in rugged seas.

We watch, fascinated, as the gods seriously mess Odysseus about, and then come to his aid. We really get the sense of the gods playing, as in Athena’s willingness to give Odysseus strength and arms when fighting the suitors in his house, but being unwilling to actually step in to help with the fighting. Instead, she watched from the rafters. It’s hard not to be just a little resentful.

Wilson’s translation reads very fast and very clearly. There always seemed to be some ramp-up time reading Greek myths in the past, but now the adventures appear perfectly accessible. Granted, there are some names you’ll have to figure out, but that’s part of being “constructively lost,” as Pynchon says.

A book-by-book reading of this new translation will begin March 1st on the Goodreads website, hosted by Kris Rabberman, Wilson’s colleague at the University of Pennsylvania. To prepare for the first online discussion later this week, Kris has suggested participants read the Introduction. If interested readers are still not entirely convinced they want this literary experience now, some excerpts have been reprinted in The Paris Review.