The Odyssey Book 3: A Detailed Analysis

Welcome back. Pull up a chair, pour out a libation, and grab your skewers, because today we're dining at a feast for the gods. In Book 3 of Homer's great work, The Odyssey, we'll visit Pylos, the land of wise old Nestor, and learn about the fates of many of the great Greek heroes of the Trojan War. Along the way, Homer will teach us how ancient sacrifices took place, and continue the development and growth of young Telemachus. So, without further delay, let's dive right in. Homer once again plants us right where we left off at the end of the previous book, at sea with Telemachus and Athena on their way to Pylos. To continue the familiar day-night cycle, we start with a new dawn, though this time it is not so rosy-fingered. Here, the sun leapt up into the brazen firmament, signalling that we are immediately into the bright hours of the day. This makes sense, as the ship soon comes to shore in Pylos, where they find Nestor's people already making sacrifices to Poseidon on the beach. These rituals are the running thread of action throughout this book, and we'll explore them in greater detail later on. The gathering on the shore is quite large; Homer tells us there are nine companies, each with five hundred men and nine bulls to sacrifice per company. While these numbers might seem unrealistic, as the largest Bronze Age settlements likely only numbered 30,000 people, the pattern of numbers is a familiar trope in Homeric epic. Just think of that incredible catalogue of ships from the Iliad. It's enough to say that likely all the men of Pylos are here, marking this as a significant religious event. Poseidon is the god of honour for this feast. Understandable. And they are sacrificing jet-black bulls, animals which were sacred to Poseidon. In our first introduction to Nestor and the people of Pylos, this is a clear signal that they are civilised and god-fearing. Throughout the winding travels of the Odyssey, we are presented with many new lands and peoples. Homer often has his characters question whether these new people will be civilised or savage, welcoming or hostile. And this is one of the best signs that they will be civilised or savage, welcoming or hostile. Nestor is immediately caught up in nostalgia at the mention of Troy, though his memories are not all pleasant. He recalls the suffering they endured, the endless raids and battles, and the many comrades he lost. These include greater Ajax, who fell by his own hand, Achilles struck down by Paris' arrow, and even Patroclus, whose death is of course a pivotal moment in the Iliad. These examples serve to remind us of the Odyssey's focus on the fate of all people. after wars and campaigns in the ancient world. The Trojan War must surely have deprived many families of at least one son, a familiar kind of loss that was keenly felt millennia later in the aftermath of the First and Second World Wars. Nestor puts an end note to these reflections by pointing out that no man could fully recount the scale of this loss. A neat little nod to the artistry of the bard. Not even Homer could fit the entire story of the Trojan War into a single work. By now, Nestor is in full recollection mode and he launches into a description of the concluding moments of the war. After nine years, every strategy the Greeks have tried has failed, made especially difficult by Zeus in Nestor's eyes. Just the mention of stratagems brings Odysseus to mind and Nestor points out how much Telemachus reminds him of the complicated man in his way of speaking, suggesting his fears about questioning Nestor were unfounded. Nestor is particularly fond of Odysseus, as they were never once on opposing sides of a dispute during their time at Troy. Nestor proceeds to skip over recounting the actual sack of Troy, though the shadow of Odysseus' scheme sits like a wooden horse in the room, so to speak. But Homer will save that story for another time. The focus here is on what happened to the Greeks after they left Troy, and the complicated fates of the various members of their fleet. Nestor tells us from the outset that the gods had it in for them, and that Athena in particular brought disaster upon many of their ships. Many came to grief through the fatal anger of the bright-eyed daughter of Zeus, because we have not all behaved sensibly and honestly. His words call to mind Zeus' statement in the opening of Book 1, that mortals bring disaster upon themselves, worse than what was fated, because of their own transgressions. And so the many dire, impious acts of the Greeks during the sack of Troy came back to bite them. Athena does not exact her punishment all at once, however. Instead, she causes dissension among the Greek ranks, and continually breaks up and scatters the fleet on their homeward journey. And it is because of this scattering that so little news of Odysseus' return has come back to his home at the present day. According to Nestor, the trouble begins with a quarrel involving Agamemnon. Now, does that ring a bell? Though this time he is arguing with his own brother Menelaus, who wants to depart as soon as possible. Agamemnon, however, wants to stay and make offerings to the gods before they depart, so the brothers call the men to an assembly at sunset, when they are already in their cups. The brothers' disagreement spreads among the ranks, and soon the whole gathering breaks down into a cacophony of shouts, with the men returning to their camps, to nurse their vindictive feelings overnight. Consequently, when morning arrives, half the men sail off and leave the remainder behind. Nestor was part of this first group to leave, but they don't make it very far. In fact, they only reach the nearby island of Tenedos, before even more infighting breaks out, and half of this group now turns and heads back to rejoin Agamemnon, including Odysseus and his men. Nestor, Diomedes, and Menelaus, continue south to Lesbos, where they debate the best way to cross the Aegean. A direct route to the north of Chios, straight across the open sea, or a safer, longer route to the south, following the chain of islands in the Cyclades. With a little help from the gods, they receive a sign to head straight across the sea to Euboea, and their ships are even boosted by a favouring wind. Which god did this, we cannot say, as even Nestor does not venture to guess. It's always worth considering, what role the gods might have played in events when they are only narrated to us by one of the characters. After all, how are they to know? It's only Homer who can tell us what the gods are thinking and doing at any one point in time. The first batch to head out is, in fact, successful, and none of them suffer any harm on their voyages home. They drop off Diomedes and Argos, before Nestor and his men return safely to Pylos, without the breeze failing once. What happens to Menelaus? Well, that will come up later. All in all, their voyage is the antithesis of Odysseus' journey, and consequently, it's not a story that makes the heart race or fires the imagination. Nestor admits that, since he got back so quickly, he returned without news of the remaining Greeks. But luckily, he has heard much of the rest through various reports in the intervening years. He fills us in on a number of other groups. The Myrmidons, Achilles' men, make it home under the command of his son Neoptolemus. Likewise, Philoctetes, the archer, returns home, and Idomeneus brings his men back to Crete without a single casualty at sea. All of this makes for a rather uninteresting recounting, so Homer quickly switches the subject to Agamemnon, though he will not go into his story in great detail just yet. Nestor reminds us that Agamemnon returned home safely, only to fall victim to the plots of Aegisthus and his own wife, Clytemnestra. When he mentions that Agamemnon returned home safely, he mentions the revenge that Orestes took upon them. He gives the same encouragement to Telemachus to be like Orestes that Athena gave him in Book 1, almost word for word. And with that, Nestor concludes his summary of all the information that he knows. Importantly, we have not learned anything new about Odysseus. If Telemachus is to find out that he is still alive, it will not be today. Telemachus picks up on the comparison to Orestes, but continues his defeated tone by wishing he could do the same to the suitors in his household before dismissing the idea as impossible. At the mention of the suitors, Nestor notes that even he has heard the story of their abusive household and hospitality in Ithaca, before needling Telemachus to try and understand how the situation had arisen. He asks whether the Ithacans tamely submit to them, or if a god has spread a rumor to turn their hearts against Telemachus and his family. Once more, the suitors' actions are shown to be offensive to sensible men, who are almost incredulous that this state of affairs has been allowed to continue. In another moment of dramatic irony, Nestor wishes that Athena could guide and favor Telemachus in the way that she did for Odysseus, not knowing, of course, that she is standing right next to him. There is perhaps even a tone of envy when he says, Never in my life have I seen the gods display such open affection as Athena did for Odysseus. With the gods on his side, he believes Telemachus could dispatch the suitors and reclaim his household. Telemachus, as demoralized as ever, calls this impossible, even if the gods willed it. Such a sharp rebuke of the power of the gods reflects Telemachus' pessimistic outlook, and Athena cannot let it stand. She interjects immediately, with dramatic irony now off the charts, to remind him that anything can happen. Nothing is possible if the gods will it. Athena then makes perhaps one of the most important observations of the entire story, that surely it would be better to endure all the hardships that Odysseus has faced in order to come home safe at last, than to reach home and die immediately as Agamemnon did. This formulation is all the more striking when we compare it to the choice that Achilles faced, to win glory and die young, or live out a life in quiet mediocrity. If you stick around, later in the story you'll see Achilles' shade tell Odysseus that he regrets the choice he made, and he would rather be alive and a slave than even a king among the dead. Athena finishes with a chilling reminder that all men must die, and not even the gods can save the ones they love from their fate. One cannot help but recall the death of Sarpedon and the Iliad, where Zeus himself weeps at his inability to save the son that he loves. Telemachus agrees with Athena, but declares that the conversation has gotten far too heavy. He returns to Nestor and proceeds to question him about the fate of Agamemnon, and why Menelaus was unable to save him. This is a nice way for Homer to fit the extended story of both characters' fate into the narrative. By inserting these digressions at various parts of the tale, Homer fills in much of the intervening story in a non-linear, jigsaw-like style that keeps the listener interested. This is a classic remnant of the oral tradition, where you can imagine that an audience might want to hear about a certain hero on a different night, and the bard would find a way to weave it into whatever else was going on. Long digressions, backstories, and flashbacks all bring the story to life in this way, and transport us back to those same campfires where the ancient bards once held us captivated. Nestor is happy to answer Telemachus' slew of questions, starting with the obvious: Menelaus was not around when Agamemnon died, or naturally, he would have exacted revenge upon Aegisthus. We learn more about this villain, who charmed Clytemnestra while her husband was away at Troy, though we are told she resisted him at first. Agamemnon had even taken precautions, leaving behind a minstrel to keep watch over his wife. But Aegisthus quite cruelly abandoned him to die on a desert island, removing any obstacle to his carrying off Clytemnestra to his own home. While carrying her off might seem ambiguous, Homer leaves us in no doubt that she was obliging. He describes the pair as "Fond lover, willing lady." A neat phrasing that he inverts when we meet Odysseus on Calypso's Isle. There, the pair are "Cold lover, ardent lady," as Odysseus is forced to sleep with her against his will. I guess this we are told went as far as to make sense, making sacrifices to the gods in thanks for the success of his scheme, continuing the running motif throughout this book with a more sinister twist. Returning to the subject of Menelaus, Nestor notes that, on the journey home, he was delayed at Capesunium when Apollo shot his helmsman Frontus with a "painless arrow," a unique concept that perhaps conveys how a heart attack or a stroke may have been perceived in ancient times. Menelaus stops to bury his comrade, other important religious custom and then get into further trouble once he sets off as a huge storm splits his own fleet in two. Half his men end up in Crete, barely escaping being shipwrecked on a massive rock, while Menelaus and five of his ships are blown all the way south to Egypt. In this way, as Nestor explains, Menelaus was extremely far from home when Agamemnon was killed by Aegisthus. We don't get any more of Menelaus' story here though, as we will be hearing it straight from the horse's mouth in book four, and Homer doesn't want to give too much away just yet. For now, we only learn that he does not return home until after Orestes has exacted revenge on his father's killers, nine years after the crime was committed. And it's at the very banquet held to celebrate their deaths that Menelaus finally returned from Egypt, with shiploads of treasure. With Menelaus' return, he was able to return to Egypt, and he was able to return to Egypt, this is a long absence on his mind. Nestor turns this into a warning to Telemachus not to stay away from Ithaca for long, or else he might find little left when he returns. He does however urge him to visit Menelaus, even though we know that this was already his plan, since Menelaus was the last to return home, and therefore he will have the most up-to-date information about the other Greeks, including potentially Odysseus. To speed him on his way, Nestor freely offers the use of his power to carry it in horses, and even a son to escort him to Sparta. After all this storytelling, Homer tells us the sun has set, a sign that the ceremony must now end. Athena herself directs them to finish the ritual as it is time for bed, and it is not right to remain any longer at this feast of the gods, a helpful indication that these ceremonies were meant to take place during daylight hours. As such, the servants complete various activities to wrap up the ceremony, and the ceremony is now over. Before Telemachus and Athena go to return to their ship, to the absolute dismay of Nestor. The old king cannot stand the thought that a guest would not stay at his palace for the night, as the custom of Xenia dictates. He exclaims that his reputation would suffer, that he would appear like a destitute pauper who could not afford the blankets to house a traveller. Homer makes it clear that turning away a guest for the night would not only be an offence against the laws of the gods, but also a crippling blow to one's standing in the community. Nestor insists, therefore, that they come to sleep in the palace. Now, we all know that Athena, daughter of Zeus and goddess of the flashing eyes, isn't going to pop down on a blanket and snooze for the night. So, she offers an excuse for her part. She will return to the ship and inform the men of the day's events, staying the night with them before setting out on a mission in the morning. Since Telemachus can travel to Sparta by land, he won't need the ship until he's ready to leave there. And thus, Athena can excuse herself from the story for a while. An excuse herself she does, but not how you might expect. Homer tells us she took the form of a vulture and flew off, much to the astonishment of all in attendance. This moment may seem puzzling to a modern audience. Why does Athena go to all the trouble of disguising herself as mental, only to then suddenly turn into a bird and make it very, clear to everyone that she was a god the whole time? Well, believe it or not, it's not the last time that she does this in the story, but it is not done haphazardly. The revelation that a god has been guiding Telemachus this whole time is meant to instill even more courage into the young man, and to show her support of him to the rest of the characters. It also prompts much of the action at the end of the book, as Nestor vows to make a special sacrifice to the very goddess who attended his own ceremony. But the characters do not dwell on it or discuss it in great detail. It doesn't particularly serve the story to do so, so they just move on. Nestor makes a prayer to Athena, asking for fame, for himself, his sons, and his wife. Athena hears his prayer, which is Homer's way of telling us that it is granted. And perhaps his role in this story is proof enough that his wish came true. They all head to the palace, where they may find the vulture, and the vulture, and the vulture, make libations to the daughter of Zeus, before going to bed for the night. Telemachus is set up in a bedstead in the portico, alongside Peisistratus, who is the only one of Nestor's sons that doesn't have a wife to head home to. For the same reason, he will also be Telemachus' companion on the long journey to Sparta. Dawn arrives, fresh and rosy-fingered this time, and Nestor holds court in the palace. There is a description of the bench he sits on, a smooth white bench which shines in the sun, when Nestor's father had sat before him, doling out advice and laws to his people. This reverent description of an object is a classic feature of epic, where the detail given helps convey the significance of the object in the scene. In this case, it speaks to the many years of wise counsel that has been dispensed from this very seat across multiple generations. Around Nestor gather his sons, with Peisistratus coming last, alongside his new companion, Telemachus. Nestor asks them all to make preparations for a new sacrifice, fetching a heifer from the meadow, gathering Telemachus' crew from the ship, and summoning the blacksmith to gild the heifer's horns. The remainder make ready the preparations for another feast within the palace, fetching seats, firewood, and water. When all this is ready, it's time for the sacrifice to begin. Please keep in mind that the following description does involve the killing of an animal, in somewhat graphic detail, so please feel free to skip ahead if it's not to your liking. The ritual proceeds in three distinct phases, and Homer gives us such great detail that it remains the basis of our understanding of how animal sacrifices were performed in his time. The first stage involves the preparation of the animal and the participants. The goldsmith, equipped with various tools of the trade, receives an allotment of gold from Nestor and works quickly to gild the heifer's horns, applying a layer of gold over them to impress the goddess. When this is done, the animal is led forward along with baskets containing lustral water and barley grain. These items are used to purify the participants, who wash their hands in the special water and scatter the grain in front of them. Nestor also takes a tuft of hair from the heifer and adds it to the fire. The second stage involves the preparation of the sacrifice, and Homer gives the sacrificial act, which occurs in two parts. First, a large ax is swung down on the back of the animal's neck, stunning it so it falls forward, but not yet killing it. Instead, the throat is cut with a special knife, and the blood is collected in a bowl as it pours out. The final stage follows quickly, as the animal is then cut up and prepared for the offering. In Greek sacrifices, some of the animal was burned as an offering to the gods, while the rest was left to eat. The second stage involves the preparation of the sacrifice, and Homer gives the participants a tuft of hair from the heifer and scatters it in front of them. The final stage involves the sacrifice, and Homer gives the participants a tuft of hair from the heifer and scatters it in a bowl as it pours out. Luckily, the best cuts were saved, and only the thigh bones were burnt, wrapped in folds of fat. There's a fantastic myth explaining that Prometheus tricked the gods into getting the worst side of this arrangement, but that's a story for another day. So, Nestor burns the offerings on the fire, along with some wine sprinkled over the top, after which the men grab five-pronged forks to roast the remaining meat on the fire. Only when all the meat is cooked does the banquet begin. While all this is happening, Telemachus is bathed by Nestor's daughter Polycaste. It's nice to note that they use olive oil when bathing, as we might use soap, as it helped to clean off much of the dirt and grime of the dry climate. Is there anything olive oil can't do? Telemachus then gets dressed in a neat tuna cloak he's provided, and once more he emerges looking like an immortal god. He rejoins the feast, which Homer does not describe in great detail, since we essentially join them at this point in the ceremony the day before, and it doesn't serve to repeat it here. The rest of the action in the book flows quickly onwards. Nestor has them prepare the chariot and a bunch of goodies for the ride. Peisistratus takes the rein, and the two drive off across Sparta, the home of Menelaus. The journey is more than a whole day's ride, so they stop at the house of Diocles and Pharae, who naturally shows them perfect Xenia. Homer tells us succinctly that they spent the night and received the gifts that hospitality dictates. This brief detail reminds us how important it was that you could rely on Xenia no matter where you went, especially if a journey was long and tiring. Since book one, Telemachus has gone from a good host to a well-received guest, confirming that one good turn very much deserves another. The pair set out the next morning, and ride the whole day till the sun goes dark. And there the action ends, once more with the setting of the sun and the falling of the action. A quiet end that promises more to come. So Telemachus has completed one half of the mission Athena set before him. Although Nestor has not given him any specific news of his father, Telemachus still has many reasons to be hopeful, none more so than the confirmation that he has a literal goddess on his side. Homer also uses this visit to fill in more of the story about the return journeys of many Greek heroes, and in particular to demonstrate the best practices when it comes to making sacrifices to the gods. Book 4 lies ahead, and there is great hope that Menelaus will have the happy tidings that Telemachus is seeking. That's where we'll leave the story today, but let's review some of the main themes and character developments we've seen in Book 3. Book 3 is chock full of sacrifices, especially the ones in Pylos that our characters attend. Through Homer's detailed description of the various steps involved, we learn a lot about how they functioned, and are prompted to consider the purposes they served in Greek society. Nestor is clearly a religious man who ensures he always honours the gods properly. In his own words, we learn that he was guided safely home from Troy by a favouring wind. No doubt, his reward for years of devotion. He is likewise overjoyed to learn that a god attended his feast, and Athena is gracious enough. We also see the flip side of this, where the Greeks at Troy cannot prevent disaster at the hands of the gods by making sacrifices, since their many transgressions have already piled up doom upon them. All these examples add to the rich portrait of religious ideas and beliefs in Homer's world. Book 3 provides an extremely useful opportunity to fill in the story of the other survivors of the Trojan War, since the story will soon move on. This is a great way to focus on Odysseus. Nestor is able to give us a good summary of many of the well-known characters, many of whom return home without great drama. The particular focus is on Agamemnon and his dark fate, which prompts comparison with Odysseus' journey and eventual homecoming. Intertwined within these stories are many judgements about what these characters deserved based on how they had behaved at Troy. Book 4: The Judgment of the Trojan War Book 5: The Judgment of the Trojan War Book 6: The Judgment of the Trojan War Book 7: The Judgment of the Trojan War Book 8: The Judgment of the Trojan War Book 9: The Judgment of the Trojan War Book 10: The Judgment of the Trojan War Book 10: The Judgment of the Trojan War Book 11: The Judgment of the Trojan War While not the major focus in this book, we see the return of the concept of "guest friendship" we call Xenia. Telemachus and Athena are welcomed instantly, without hesitation or question, by Nestor's son, and later we learn that it would be a huge slight on Nestor's reputation if he did not host them for the night. On the journey to Sparta, Telemachus' travels are made far more straightforward by the knowledge that he can rely on the hospitality of anyone he meets on the way. Since Telemachus was an excellent host and friend of his, he was also a good host and friend of his. Telemachus was an excellent host and friend of his. In Book 1, it is rewarding now to see him benefit from the same hospitality on his own travels. The Souter's transgressions were the major focus of Books 1 and 2, but now we shift to the consequences of sacrilegious and nefarious actions committed by the heroes of the Trojan War. The Greeks are harried and scattered by the gods as they try to venture home for the many atrocities committed during the war, while both Agamemnon and Aegisthus come to bitter ends as their misdeeds finally catch up with them. They stand in stark contrast to the likes of Nestor, who returns home peacefully as a reward for his god-fearing behavior. While the gods are wont to punish mortals for their transgressions, many of the acts of revenge we see in the Odyssey are carried out by other mortals. Orestes is the prime example in these early books, while the focus is on Telemachus, as the two share much in common. Where someone has earned it through their behavior and transgressions, revenge is condoned and even celebrated. The gods and mortals alike praise Orestes' slaying of Aegisthus, and Nestor encourages Telemachus to punish the suitors. As noted in our commentary of Book 1, Homer goes to great lengths to make sure the revenge dished out by our heroes is well justified. Initially cautious to address the venerable Nestor, Telemachus grows in confidence with Athena's help and is well received. Nestor himself notes how similar Telemachus is to his father in the way he speaks, highlighting his continued growth into manhood and the strong links between the two. Athena takes a back seat here as she guides Telemachus, only dropping into the conversation where necessary. She is particularly involved in the ritual elements of the sacrifice, which is all the more interesting as a goddess in disguise. When she realizes she is no longer needed, she reveals her identity as she departs, and leaving the others in no doubt that Telemachus is favored by the gods. Nestor gets his time in the sun in Book 3, since we won't be back to see him again. The aged king is fair, wise, and god-fearing, and as a result of all these, we see he has been blessed with a loving family and a prosperous people. His counsel is as helpful as it can be, since this visit is really only meant as a prelude to seeing Menelaus. It is nice, however, to see at least one of the Greeks home safe from the wrath of their gods. It is also important to note, though, that there is no way for the rest of the Greeks to be saved. They will return to Troy without any trouble in their home. And that brings us to the end of Book 3. Until next time, take care.