The Odyssey Book 2: A Detailed Analysis

Welcome back. It's time to dive back into the world of Homer's Odyssey and explore the themes, characters and events of this fascinating story. Make sure you've already digested our opening episode on Book 1 as we'll be picking up right where that one left off. Telemachus, the focus of these opening books, has a plan. With the divine guidance of Athena, he is going to voice his frustrations about the suitors plaguing his household before sailing off to Pylos in Sparta to seek news of his absent father. In Book 2, we will see him put the first parts of this plan into motion. Without further ado, let's jump right in. Homer begins Book 2 with one of his most famous formulations. As soon as dawn appeared, fresh and rosy-fingered. This phrase encapsulates so much about the oral tradition that it is worth spending a little time on. As we've explored before, Homer uses dawn to kickstart a new chapter as a way of resetting and refocusing the story. It also serves as a reminder that the action rises and falls with each day and we can soon expect something exciting. Furthermore, the beauty of the phrase cannot be overlooked, no matter how often it is used. Instead of telling us plainly that the day just began or that the sun rose, the scene painted by this simple phrase is rich and evocative. Dawn is both a natural phenomenon but also a divine personification here, so the beauty is twofold. Thus tied together in one phrase are many of the great elements of the oral tradition that we can still enjoy when reading the work ourselves. Following on from this iconic opening, Homer gives us another classic convention of the genre: a dressing typescene. Typescenes, as you will remember, are familiar moments in the story that can be repeated in different contexts, with the relevant changes made to the characters and, in this case, their clothing. Along with things like those standard opening lines, this allowed the Bard to fall back onto repetitive patterns, which lessen the enormous task of composing on the go. The enormity of this task cannot be understated. Not only were Bards required to deliver a unique formulation of the story spontaneously, they had to contend with the difficult challenge of fitting all these words into a complicated poetic meter. So, no matter how blessed by the Muses they were, Bards would happily take the opportunity to fall back on familiar phrases and scenes, so much so that these became a celebrated part of the genre itself. Now, back to the action. Telemachus wakes from the bed that he climbed into at the end of Book One, and gets dressed. The time that Homer devotes to this moment tells us that important events are about to be set in motion. After all, these are the clothes he will wear when he begins his great adventure. We then learn that not only is he well-dressed, but he is "looking like a god." Now, this comparison was not meant too literally, lest anyone invoke the ire of the gods, but it was a great compliment, and signifies that Telemachus is our hero. On top of this, however, Athena now adds to his beauty, making him look so impressive that he turns eyes everywhere he goes. Now, although we'll see this later on, it should be noted here that Athena pulls the very same trick several times with Odysseus, further solidifying the strong connection between the Ithacan king and his son. After all, Telemachus is growing into the kind of man his father is, and he's about to embark on his own odyssey of sorts. The heralds have put out the word that the assembly is to gather, the meeting which Telemachus had requested upon the advice of Athena. Just as Book 1 began with an assembly of the gods, now Book 2 begins with a more humble, mortal counterpart. In attendance are the important men of Ithaca, other interested parties, and most importantly, the suitors of Penelope as well. At this stage, however, not everyone knows why the meeting has been called, and we are also told that such an assembly had not gathered in all the time since Odysseus had left. This is symbolic of the leadership vacuum left behind by his long absence, and a reflection of the disorganized state of affairs on the island. Aegyptius, one of the old lords of Ithaca, speaks first, and asks who called the meeting, and why. We're given a lengthy description of the meeting. The man, which in fact focuses mostly on his sons, a reminder of the patriarchal nature of their culture. Tragically, one of his sons, Antiphus, was a companion of Odysseus, and we are told that he was the final victim of the Cyclops before the others made their escape. It's a small but tragic detail, as Homer emphasizes how Antiphus had survived ten years at Troy, only to lose his life on the way home, but the tragedy is even harder, as we realize that Aegyptius must not even know yet of his son's fate, and is instead suffering the same drawn-out torment that Telemachus faces, but with no hope of a happy return. It is also another reminder that the story is not being told with modern sensibilities about spoilers. The audience was expected to know the Cyclops story, even if it was yet to come in the narrative. With his son's memory fresh in his heart, Aegyptius commends the calling of the Ascension, perhaps hoping that it portends some good news. Telemachus is heartened by his positive words, and steps forward to speak, grabbing the speaker's star from a herald. Very quickly, he answers Aegyptius' questions and reveals his motives for calling the assembly. "The double affliction that has fallen on my house," referring, of course, to the loss of his father and the continued wastage of his household by the suitors. Telemachus spells out in no unspeakable tone that his son is no longer alive. In other words, he calls out to his compatriots, but in no uncertain terms, how brazen these suitors are, calling shame upon them in front of his compatriots. He goes as far as to say that he "would willingly fight them" if he had the strength, despite knowing that he would be outnumbered and overpowered. Telemachus turns squarely to address the suitors and call out their behavior as an insult to all the inhabitants of the island. Here, Homer instructs us, the audience, as well as the suitors, that their actions offend the gods. They will lead to their inevitable demise, an outcome he has foreshadowed more than once. Telemachus tells them, "You should shrink from the wrath of the gods. Have you no fear?" He then formally pleads for them to leave him, suggesting that the only justification they could have would be that their actions were compensation for some misdeed on his father's part. But, of course, no such excuse exists. He finishes with a bitter exclamation. "You fill my heart with a pain for which I find no cure," before flinging the speaking staff to the ground. Telemachus' actions here might not be looked upon so favorably today, but the passion with which he delivers them would have been deeply felt by Homer's audience. There was no shame in public expressions of grief in Homer's time. We hear immediately that the assembled crowd is greatly moved by these words. A deep silence follows, which goes unbroken until Antinous, leader of the suitors, makes his reply. Naturally, he gets up to defend the suitors and pass the blame for their behavior. He addresses Telemachus somewhat mockingly, and claims that Penelope is the real source of all his woes. "It is your own mother, that incomparable schemer, who is the culprit." In Antinous' eyes. His refusal to choose a suitor is justification enough for their continued presence. On top of the many ways she has tricked and deceived them to delay her decision. We are beginning to learn that Penelope is a rival for her husband in cunning, as she has kept the suitors at bay for over three years. Not satisfied with this general description, Homer takes the opportunity to relate one of these schemes in detail. In what is possibly the most famous story associated with the plot of the novel, the story of Penelope, he tells us how she forestalled the suitors by the ruse of weaving a shroud for Odysseus' father, Laertes. Telling them that she would not pick a husband until it was complete, she would weave the work by day, then unpick it by night. It took nearly four years for the suitors to discover this, finally through the deceit of one of the maids. But even when they forced her to complete it, she still declined to choose a husband. According to Antonis, this was reason enough to continue their presence at Odysseus' palace. This story serves a number of purposes within the larger narrative. The scheme Penelope develops puts her on a par with her husband, who is known for his sharp mind and elaborate deceptions. It also helps explain how she has managed to keep these suitors in check for so long, which might not have been possible otherwise. Now, the suitors are not meant to come across as bumbling fools. as they might be reinterpreted in a modern adaptation. but the story does speak to the delicate balance between them and Penelope. They cannot act too assertively as individuals, for fear of losing the chance to marry her. Yet as a collective, they see themselves justified in continuing to break the laws of Xenia. Finally, the betrayal of one of Penelope's maids is an important seed that will germinate later on, when we discover how deep their misdeeds run. Following this tale, Andonus presents his counter-offer to Telemachus' demands. He should send his mother back to her father Icarius' house, and let him choose her a new husband. Homer presents us now with another piece to the puzzle around the suit of Penelope and ancient marriage practices. As we've already discussed, Homer's story is set during the Bronze Age, but reflects a range of customs from across the time span of the story's creation. As such, there is perhaps. no coherent, definitive system of marriage and kingship at play here, except what we can glean from these statements and interactions. It's clear, however, that the system is patriarchal, and there was likely a dowry involved, though it's also likely that Penelope's particular situation is a unique one invented for the purpose of this story. Andonus goes on to remind us that Penelope is talented both in the skills of craft and craftiness, attributes which he himself, can tell, come from Athena. The support of the goddess of the flashing eyes is a key thread that interweaves all three members of Odysseus' family. However, in Antonus' mind, her schemes are the reason that the suitors remain, and as long as she keeps the stalemate, the suitors will continue to feast in the palace. Telemachus replies that he is completely against the idea of throwing out his mother. Aside from the betrayal it would be to the woman who raised him, his objections are more tangible. Firstly, he would have to pay to return Penelope to her father, perhaps an obligation to return her dowry that existed in those times. Furthermore, he is adamant that she would call the furies upon him if he did so. A nice callback to his comparison in Book 1 with Orestes, who was hounded by those same furies sent by his mother when he killed her. Finally, he knows he would also suffer in reputation among his fellow Ithacans. So, Telemachus repeats his request for the suitors to leave. And gives the same dark threat he uttered in Book 1, word for word. While it might seem odd today to repeat a whole passage like this verbatim, you will recall that the oral tradition relied on set phrases and scenes to help the bard with the volume of storytelling. In this way, the repetition of phrases and even whole sentences was a useful trick up his sleeve, and the audience would have enjoyed catching the callback. Telemachus' threat is now met with a significant response, an omen sent by Zeus himself. Two eagles swoop down and attack each other right over the meeting place, flying off as they continue their combat. Naturally, the Ithacans are stunned at the sight and aren't sure what to make of it. But just their luck, among them is Halitherses, an expert in interpreting these very omens. He rises to speak and tells us what we all want to hear. Odysseus will be home soon, and he'll be bringing home the omen. At this very moment, he is close at hand, sowing the seeds of bloody doom for the suitors. He warns us that this will be a great disaster not just for the suitors, but also for the people of Ithaca, so he implores his compatriots to help stop them. If the audience had any doubts about his credentials, he assures us that he had already predicted much of what has happened in the story. That Odysseus would return home in the 20th year after much suffering, having lost all his comrades, and that no one would know him when he came. Now, that last part hasn't come true yet, but the audience would be acutely aware that Odysseus will return in disguise later in the tale. It's also worth noting that this prophecy has many parallels with the curse laid down by Polyphemus, the Cyclops, in Book 9, which, after all, has been the cause of all these troubles. Eurymachus, the second most important suitor, rises to reply, and pours cold water on these notions. He belittles Halitherses and makes light of the art of augury, another action that shows these suitors are heedless of the warnings of the gods. Eurymachus goes as far as to make his own prophecy, which is, rather, a thinly-veiled threat against Halitherses. That if he stirs up Telemachus to violence, they will take it out on him. With a fine. Eurymachus repeats the suggestion to send Penelope home, so she can be. They wed with a generous dowry, and until that happens, the suitors will continue to stay, since "we are afraid of no one at all, and they do not care for prophecies." Here, we see Eurymachus stray very close to the sun. His words are acts of hubris, and although he does not directly defy the gods, he dismisses their warnings and boasts of their continued breaches of Xenia. Again, there is an intriguing parallel here with the Cyclops in Book 9, who boldly claims that the Cyclops, "care nothing for the blessed gods, since we are much stronger", before losing an eye shortly after his retribution. Homer goes to great length to paint his villains as objectively bad, so that the actions taken against them are justified. In this way, when Odysseus does finally return home, we should have no qualms about their wholesale slaughter. After all, they have called this down upon themselves in their mockery of the gods and their laws. Telemachus clearly sees that he is getting nowhere with the assembly, so he simply states that he has nothing left to say, and he will be departing soon on his adventure. Once more, Homer reminds us of the trip ahead, to Pylos and then to Sparta, just in case you missed it last time. In his place, Mentor rises to address the assembly. Now, just to confuse matters, we've already seen that in Book 1, Athena took on the disguise of Mentees, and in the next few books, she will take on the form of Mentor. The more well known of the two. But, here at the first introduction to the character, it is the real Mentor who speaks, and not Athena. Don't worry though, it won't be long until Athena is swapping in and out of various appearances again. Mentor is introduced to us as an old friend of Odysseus, who entrusted him with the care of his household while he was away at Troy. It's not ever particularly clear how keenly Mentor took after this task, though it seems that he has let the situation get out of hand, either by neglect or lack of power over the suitors. Here, he chides the people of Ithaca, Odysseus' own subjects, for not standing up to these men in defense of the man who presided over them, with a father's loving care. On the suitors, however, he does not pass judgment, only acknowledging that they are risking their own lives through their reckless behavior. Mentor's words are not well received by Leocritus, another of the suitors, who springs up to call them. He argues that no one would fight the suitors over some food and wine, and that even if Odysseus did return to fight them, they would overwhelm him in battle. As they so often do, the suitors pile on arrogant dismissals of any criticisms and tempt fate a little more each time. Finally, the assembly comes to a close as Leocritus calls them all to depart and go home, which the assembled people gladly and quickly do. The suitors return to the city, return to the palace to continue their revels, while Telemachus heads to the seashore to do some soul-searching. Wandering alone along the Strand, he prays to Athena, acknowledging that he knows it was her that visited him the previous night, but also that he is still full of doubt about the plan she laid before him. Athena swiftly appears, now in the guise of mentor, and gives him some welcome advice. Although he does not acknowledge it, there is likely a keen glimmer of understanding on Telemachus' part that the goddess is once more present. Athena encourages him, noting the similarities with his father that we have spotted so often already, and turns his attention towards the journey ahead. Not before making another dark prophecy that the suitors' time of destruction is imminent. Nor have they any inkling of the dark fate that is stalking them so near. Athena sends Telemachus home with their provisions for the journey, while she goes to organise a ship and a crew. At the palace, Telemachus is immediately beset by Antonis, who mocks him over his speech at the assembly. He then offers to arrange a ship and a crew for his adventure, an offer which is clearly sinister in its intentions. Nor is it the last time we will see the suitors try to arrange his untimely end. Telemachus quickly rebuffs his offer and chastises him for his arrogance. Telemachus notes that he was once too young to understand what the suitors were doing, but now that he is fully matured, he realises how wicked they have been and will not accept any help from them. The suitors of course react boorishly and fling insults at Telemachus, some suggesting he is going to find allies to kill them, others sarcastically hoping that he doesn't end up like his father on his own sea journey. Telemachus ignores them all and heads to the storeroom, which Homer gives an extended description flavour. As we discussed in the last episode, the Odyssey has a very domestic focus, and the intricate details of the jars of wine and barley meal paint a vivid picture of the more ordinary side of ancient life. In charge of it all is Eurycleia, the faithful maid we met in book one, who bursts into tears upon learning of Telemachus' plans. Having raised Odysseus and his son in turn, she cannot bear the thought of losing another beloved master in the same way. She begs him to stay, reminding him that the suitors will plot against him while he is gone. Yet Telemachus assures her that all will go well, as he knows that Athena is helping him. As do we in the audience. But he orders her not to tell Penelope that he is gone, lest her tears spoil her lovely cheeks. This whole scene is a wonderful reflection of the depth of feeling between these family members, whose suffering at Odysseus' long absence continues to haunt their every interaction. While Telemachus' is making these preparations, Athena gets to scheming. First, she takes on the form of Telemachus himself, and goes about the town acquiring a vessel and a crew to sail with. Then she travels to the palace and makes the suitors drowsy, forcing them all to retire early for the night. With them out of the way, she reappears as mentor and takes Telemachus down to the ship. He calls the men to follow him and collect the supplies, with no suitors in the way to make trouble. The men load the supplies onto the ships and make ready the oars, as Homer gives us a lovely long description of all the nautical preparations and manoeuvres required to get the ship underway. To guide them on their voyage, Athena even stirs up a favourable wind to speed them on their way. With Telemachus and Athena on board, they set off and make libations to the gods. Libations were offerings of wine that were poured out, offered to the gods, and offered to the gods. Often into the sea, as a religious ritual for good luck. Here, the main target of their prayers is Athena, who they don't know is ironically alongside them for the whole journey, no doubt happy to be receiving all this adulation. Homer finishes the book with the image of the ship ploughing through the waves into the dark night, as the action once again comes to a conclusion at the end of the day. The mood is elevated and hopeful, and there is a great sense of anticipation building around the adventure to come. You can only imagine how the audience would beg the bard for more, but that's where we have to leave it for today. So that's where the action ends for now, but let's recap some of the key ideas and themes that we've seen running through Book Two. In the public forum of the Assembly, the suitors' transgressions are laid bare for all to see. While they haughtily defend their actions, we are made keenly aware once more that the people are bringing a great disaster upon themselves. By further denying the warnings and omens set before them, they further justify the coming retribution against them that we are promised. Athena is a constant presence throughout this book, as she takes a major role in guiding Telemachus on his journey. Perhaps owing to his youth and inexperience, she uses a firmer hand in guiding him here than she does later with Odysseus. Her support once again connects Telemachus, Penelope, and Hermes. This is, however, the most important aspect of the whole story. While much of the action is centered around the Assembly, we get some nice quieter moments at the Palace, in particular in the storeroom tended to by Eurycleia. Likewise, Homer's attention to detail when Telemachus gets dressed or when the men prepare the boat showcases his incredible skill at creating lifelike scenes. We are also treated to some staples of the oral tradition, with Homer's opening line a standout. Cap scenes, epithets, and repeated phrases remind us that this work came down to us from a spoken art form. Although still unsure of himself, Telemachus nevertheless sets out on the journey Athena has laid out for him, and speaks with growing confidence against the suitors. Every step of his development brings him closer to the type of leader that we know Odysseus can be. Athena is at her manipulative best in Book 2, switching between her role as a leader, switching between myriad disguises, and arranging everything to suit her whim. She also acts as an easy conduit for Homer to move the plot along, clearing any potential obstacles for Telemachus's journey. The ruse of Laertes' shroud is a great encapsulation of Penelope's talents, which are a match even for her notorious husband. Though not present, she looms large over all the action, as all the suitors remain desperate for her hand in marriage. What little chance of redeeming, however, is given to her by her husband, who, by the end of the day, seems to have taken her out of the way. But what little chance of redemption the suitors had must surely be gone now. Given multiple chances to make up for their misdeeds, instead they double down and insult anyone who would criticise them. Their fate is well and truly sealed. That brings us to the conclusion of Book 2. Thanks again for joining us for this analysis of Homer's Odyssey. I hope you got a lot out of it, and as always, if you have any questions, please drop me a comment and I will include the answers in the description. Thank you. Until next time, take care.