Great Books #5: The Odyssey

The Odyssey is a sequel to the Iliad, and it's a family story—a story about a homecoming. There are three main characters: Odysseus, who is the main character and why it's called the Odyssey; Penelope, who is his wife; and Telemachus, who is their son.

As we discussed when we read the Iliad, Homer is first and foremost concerned with the human condition. What does it mean to be human? What does it mean to live in a world of war, trauma, and tragedy, and how can we overcome this adversity?

The Odyssey is about three individuals in a family, and they are all traumatized and heartbroken.

A Family Shattered by War

Odysseus is trying to return home from the war, and his problem is that he has PTSD, which is post-traumatic stress disorder. This is very common for soldiers who return from war. They've seen so much violence, tragedy, and senseless death that their souls are shattered.

Then you have Penelope, who is suffering from depression. Why is she depressed? Because her husband has been away for 20 years, and she doesn't know if he's alive or dead. He's probably dead; it's been 20 years, and there's been no sign of him. But she cannot bring herself to admit that he's dead, so she's put herself in a very precarious situation. There are dozens of suitors who want her hand in marriage. She wants to say no, but she's afraid that if she does, she'll be alone for the rest of her life. But she doesn't want to say yes because she refuses to admit that her husband, the love of her life, Odysseus, is dead. In her heart, she feels that he's still alive, but in her head, she cannot justify it. It's just a feeling.

Her response—and this is what we call cognitive dissonance—is to shut down. She just spends all her time alone in her room. At first, she's weaving, but then she just sits in her room.

And then there's Telemachus. His problem is that he doesn't know if his father is dead or alive, but the man is a legend. This is the man who won the Trojan War by coming up with the strategy of the Trojan horse. He is a legend in this world, and everyone sings his praises. Telemachus is his son, so he's living in his father's shadow and wants to prove he's better. He wants to become a hero himself, but he's being burdened by the legacy of his father.

The other issue is that unless his father is declared dead, he cannot inherit his father's legacy—the property and the reputation cannot be transferred to him. Then there's his mother, who's just sitting around the house every single day. If she were to get married, she would leave, and then he could be master of his own house. But she's still around, so he's stuck. At the same time, the suitors are waiting for Penelope's answer, which is never going to come. So they're just in the house, eating up all his wealth. He is just seeing his life wither away, and there's nothing he can do about it. He is just depressed as well, and he's angry.

But all these things are the same thing. It's really one of cognitive dissonance, depression, and trauma.

The Ancient Concept of the Soul

There's another way we can analyze what's going on. The ancients were really concerned about the soul because it was the most fundamental issue of what it means to be a human being. It's something that we don't talk about or think about today because we live in a world of material science. If we can't see it, it doesn't exist. But for most of human history, humanity has understood the soul as very present, very real, and the most significant thing in our lives.

Let's talk about their understanding of the soul, and this is true for a lot of cultures. First of all, the soul is a very complex thing with almost infinite dimensions. There are different layers to the soul, and there's a part of the soul that is you, the person. But who you are as a person is ultimately influenced by other factors as well. These influences include:

• Your family
• Your culture
• History
• And maybe the gods

There are infinite dimensions, and these dimensions have an impact on you. Maybe when you die, a part of you lives on, but there are also parts of you that flow back into these different streams of the universe. It's a very complex thing.

The Modern View: Trauma and the Worldview

Another name for the soul that we use today, if you go to a psychology class, is the worldview. We have a much more simplistic understanding of our psychology than the ancients. The idea of the worldview is just our understanding of who we are, where we came from, and our place in the universe. We believe it comes from our memories and our experiences.

The worldview is important because it allows us to understand ourselves. This is important for things such as:

• Planning: Only if you know who you are can you actually plan ahead because then you know what you want to do and what you want to accomplish.
• Empathy: It allows for building relationships with others.
• Judgment: It helps determine what's good, what's bad, what you like, and what you don't like.

The worldview and the soul are fundamental to who we are. In psychology, they will teach you that trauma splinters the worldview. There's something about your experience that is fundamental to your identity, but because it is so painful, you forget about it or refuse to see it. This causes a rupture in your identity, in your coherent sense of the world, which destroys your worldview.

This leads to depression. What is depression? It is the inability to act and to think. You don't know what you want to accomplish. You don't trust yourself. You don't know what you like. What are the symptoms of depression? You sleep a lot. You find no pleasure in anything. You feel no emotion; you feel a sort of numbness. That's why people tend to take drugs or just sleep all the time. You are unable to act.

And that's exactly what's happening to Odysseus, Penelope, and Telemachus. There's a trauma in their lives. The ancients believed this as well. There could be a trauma that splits the soul—it could be a demon, a really painful incident, anything. But it splits your soul. If you are to recover, then you have to repair your soul.

That's the fundamental conflict and dilemma within the Odyssey. You have three individuals—Odysseus, Penelope, and Telemachus—whose souls have been splintered. They're on a journey, their own odyssey, to repair their souls. And the answer, of course, is each other. The love for each other is what's going to save them. The love of family is the fundamental message of the Odyssey, and that's why it's such a powerful read.

The Roots of Odysseus's Trauma

As you know, the Odyssey begins in medias res—in the middle of things. A lot has already taken place. In the beginning, Odysseus has been away for 20 years and is stuck on an island with Calypso. Penelope is depressed, and Telemachus is angry. Athena comes and tells Telemachus, "Come with me. I will help you find your father."

The story starts with the Trojan War, of course. Helen has been taken to Troy. She falls in love with Paris because that's what Aphrodite promised him as a prize. Now her husband, the king of Sparta, Menelaus, and his brother Agamemnon, the king of kings, are going to raise an army and get Helen back. This is prophesied to be the greatest war in human history; it will make mortals into gods. That's why Achilles enters this war—it's his opportunity to prove he is the greatest warrior in all of human history.

Odysseus is also supposed to go to this war. But Odysseus is different from Achilles because he loves his wife, Penelope, and he has a new son, six-month-old Telemachus. He's conflicted and really doesn't want to go to war. But the Greeks need him because the gods have told them that it is Odysseus who will win the war, because he's the one who will come up with the Trojan horse, the stratagem that will win it.

Odysseus doesn't want to go, but the Greeks insist. They send two messengers to Ithaca, where Odysseus lives. What he does is pretend to be mad. He dresses up as a beggar—he's a king, but he dresses up badly—and he's going around the farmland throwing salt everywhere. He looks crazy. Throwing salt on the land kills crops, so he looks completely insane. But the Greeks understand that this is a man of disguise, a man of stratagems. He's very clever, so it's probably a trick.

What they do is take his six-month-old son, Telemachus, and put him in front of Odysseus, who is plowing and salting the fields. The test is this: if you're really mad, you're going to run over your son and kill him. If you're not really crazy, then you're going to stop and save your son.

Odysseus, of course, turns away and saves his son. They say, "Aha! You see, you're tricking us all along. Come with us to Troy." And so Odysseus has no choice but to go.

If you think about it, the story doesn't really make any sense. And that's the greatness of Homer because he's telling us about the complexity of human psychology. Odysseus is really smart. He thinks ahead. He should know that if he were to have this stratagem, the Greeks would see through it really quickly. If he really didn't want to go to this war, he should be hiding from the Greeks or just moving away. Take your family with you. Or, you know what, just kill these guys, because you're "crazy," right?

What this tells us is that yes, Odysseus really loves his family and wants to be with them. He knows that if he goes to Troy, he'll be gone for 20 years—20 years that he won't be able to see his son Telemachus grow up. But at the same time, this is the greatest war in human history. Achilles is going. Agamemnon is going. Does Odysseus really want to be left out? Does he really want to be the one guy who is a coward, who stays home? The Greeks would just laugh at him for the rest of his life, saying, "You're just a pussy, whipped by your wife." He doesn't want that.

It's a conflict. So, what he does is come up with a strategy that allows the Greeks to see through it really quickly and force him to go. He doesn't have to bear any responsibility for what he does. That is the complexity of the human soul. That is the complexity of our worldview.

The Worldview That Led to War

He goes to Troy and has to explain to himself why he's there. He knows he's going to be away from home for 20 years—10 years in Troy, 10 years being lost at sea. So his worldview is this: why am I here in Troy?

1. Justice: This is a just war because the Trojans stole Helen, and therefore the Greeks must avenge the honor of Menelaus.
2. Family: Helen should be with her children and her family in Sparta. We have to return her. How would I feel if Penelope was stolen from me? I would want everyone to go fight with me to get her back as well. It's about family.
3. Legacy: Yes, he will not see his son Telemachus for 20 years. Therefore, he has to build him a legacy that will carry him for the rest of his life. If he is in Troy and wins this great war and becomes this great hero, then Telemachus himself will be famous as the son of Odysseus. People will respect Telemachus. He wants to build a legacy for his son and tell him, "This is how you should live your life: a life of honor, of justice, of truth."

These are the three reasons why he goes to Troy. We have to remember that this is all to justify his conflict. There's a rupture in his soul, and he needs to mend it by explaining why he's doing what he's doing, because he's abandoning his family for 20 years.

This is the worldview that Odysseus has when he enters Troy. The problem starts when they win the war, because when they win, Odysseus is forced to see that all three of these things were wrong. He will discover that this war was not about justice; it was just about revenge and murder. It was not about family; it was about destroying families, because when you win this war, you enslave the women and kill the husbands. And it's not about legacy, because you've destroyed the Trojan civilization for no particular reason, because Helen doesn't even want to go back to Sparta.

This causes cognitive dissonance, and this is what causes his PTSD or trauma. The Odyssey is his journey to repair his soul so that he can go home.

The Moment of Rupture

This is from the Iliad. Remember in Book 1, Achilles and Agamemnon have this nasty fight. Achilles says, "Screw you, you're a dog. I'm not going to fight for you ever again." Agamemnon says, "Screw you, I don't need you." But in Book 2, Agamemnon recognizes there's a problem because Achilles is the greatest warrior we have. If Achilles doesn't want to fight, that's bad for morale. We might actually lose this war.

So Agamemnon, being stupid, has this stupid idea. How can I rally my soldiers? How can I galvanize them into action now that Achilles has abandoned the battlefield? "I know what I'll do. I'll tell them they can go home." Reverse psychology. Because when he says, "You guys can go home," every Greek will be like, "No! We came all the way to Troy to win glory for you, Agamemnon! We're going to fight to the death to ensure that you get your glory! We don't want to go home!" That's the plan.

Of course, it backfires. When people hear, "Oh, we can go home," they all run away. Agamemnon now has cognitive dissonance. He's like, "What? Huh?" He doesn't understand what's going on. At this point in the story, the war should be over because all the Greeks just went home. But what happens is Odysseus will come and save everyone. He will recognize that Agamemnon is just being stupid, and he will force all the Greeks to return to their posts.

Testing his men, but he only made the spirit race
inside their chests, all the rank and file
who’d never heard his plan. And the whole assembly
surged like big waves at sea, the Icarian Sea,
when East and South Winds drive it on, blasting down
in force from the clouds of Father Zeus. Or when
the West Wind shakes the deep standing grain
with hurricane gusts that flatten down the stalks—
so the mass assembly of troops was shaken now.
They cried in alarm and charged toward the ships,
and the dust went whirling up from under rushing feet
as the men jostled back and forth, shouting orders,
“Grapple the ships! Drag them down to the bright sea!”
“Clean out the launching channels!” Shrill shouts
hitting the heavens, fighters racing for home,
knocking the blocks out from underneath the hulls.

This just shows you how stupid Agamemnon is. He thinks his soldiers actually want to fight this war, but they are all homesick. They're sick of this stupid war. The moment Agamemnon says, "You guys can go home," they're all like, "We're going to get home as soon as possible." They miss their wives and their children.

Hera and Athena are up on Mount Olympus, and they watch this and are like, "Oh my god, Agamemnon's going to lose us this war. What a moron." Hera says to Athena, "You get down there and you stop this." So Athena rushes down and talks to Odysseus.

And now they might have won their journey home,
the men of Argos fighting the will of fate,
yes, if Hera had not alerted Athena: “Inconceivable!
Child of Zeus whose battle-shield is thunder,
tireless one, Athena! What is this? The way
all the Argives flying home to their fatherland,
sailing over the sea’s broad back, leaving Priam
and all the men of Troy a trophy to glory over,
Helen of Argos, Helen, for whom so many Argives
lost their lives in Troy, far from native land!
Go, range the ranks of Achaea’s armored men.
With your winning words hold back each man you find,
don’t let them haul their rolling ships to sea.”
The bright-eyed goddess Pallas lost no time.
Down she flashed from the peaks of Mount Olympus,
quickly reached the Achaeans’ ships and found Odysseus first,
a mastermind like Zeus, still standing fast.
He had not laid a hand on his black-benched hull,
such anguish racked his heart and fighting spirit.
Now close beside him the bright-eyed goddess stood
and urged him on: “Royal son of Laertes,
Odysseus, great tactician, what is this? The way
all you Argives flying home to your fatherland,
tumbling into your oar-swept ships, leaving Priam
and all the men of Troy a trophy to glory over,
Helen of Argos, Helen, for whom so many Argives
lost their lives in Troy, far from native land?
No, don’t give up now. Range the Achaean ranks,
with your winning words hold back each man you find,
don’t let them haul their rolling ships to sea.”
He knew the goddess’s voice. He went on the run,
flinging off his cape as his herald picked it up,
Eurybates of Ithaca, always at his side.
Coming face-to-face with Atrides Agamemnon,
he relieved him of his father’s royal scepter—
its power can never die—and grasping it tightly
off he strode to the ships of Achaea’s armored men.

Everyone's trying to go home, and you would think Odysseus would be the first person to get on a ship to go back to see his son and his wife. But he's standing there, confused. It shows you that he actually doesn't really want to go home.

Athena is always part of Odysseus; it's part of his soul, his intuition. And his intuition tells him something is wrong here. Look at Agamemnon—he is frozen, so distraught he's shut down. His brain has stopped working because this is not supposed to happen. It's so much cognitive dissonance that when Odysseus takes the royal scepter, Agamemnon doesn't even notice. The royal scepter is part of his soul, his legacy, what gives him authority. And Odysseus just takes it, like, "No, I'm the king for now to save this war." It just shows you how committed Odysseus is to winning. He really believes this war is about justice, family, and building a legacy for his son. He refuses to lose.

The Broken Man

But that's the Iliad. Odysseus will win this war and win eternal glory for himself with the stratagem of the Trojan horse. Now we go to the Odyssey, and we don't actually meet Odysseus for many books. In the first few books, it's the story of Telemachus and his journey to find his father. When we meet Odysseus, he's a very different person from the one in the Iliad. In the Iliad, he is energetic, galvanized, and heroic. But when we see him in the Odyssey, he's a changed person. In fact, he's a broken person.

Odysseus and his crew try to go home and get lost at sea. They have many adventures, and he gets shipwrecked on an island where he becomes the sex toy of a goddess named Calypso. He's a prisoner of Calypso for many years. The gods—Zeus and Athena—get together and say, "We can't have this happen anymore. Odysseus needs to go home." So they send Hermes to tell Calypso she has to send Odysseus home.

With that the powerful giant-killer sped away.
But the queenly nymph sought out the great Odysseus—
the commands of Zeus still ringing in her ears.
She found him there on the headland, sitting, still,
weeping, his eyes never dry, his sweet life flowing away
with the tears he wept for his foiled journey home,
since the nymph no longer pleased.
In the nights, true, he’d sleep with her in the arching cave—
he had no choice—unwilling lover alongside lover
all too willing. But all his days he’d sit on the rocks and beaches,
wrenching his heart with sobs and groans and anguish,
gazing out over the barren sea through blinding tears.

He's a broken man, a very different person from the one in the Iliad. So the question is, why? What happened to him?

Calypso says to Odysseus, "You can go home, but you can also choose to be my sex toy for all eternity. I can make you immortal." Odysseus is like, "That's a really nice offer, but I need to go home." So he leaves and gets to another island. On this island, he's given a ship to go home. But before he goes, as is the custom, they host a banquet for him. They don't know he's Odysseus. During the banquet, a bard sings a great story of great deeds, and of course, he sings about the Trojan War.

The strife between Odysseus and Achilles, Peleus’ son,
how once at the gods’ flowing feast the captains clashed
in a savage war of words, while Agamemnon, lord of armies,
rejoiced at heart that Achaea’s bravest men were battling so.
For this was the victory sign that Apollo prophesied
at his shrine in Pytho when Agamemnon strode
across the rocky threshold, asking the oracle for advice—
the start of the tidal waves of ruin tumbling down
on Troy’s and Danaans’ forces both at once,
thanks to the will of Zeus who rules the world.
That was the song the famous harper sang.
But Odysseus, clutching his flaring sea-blue cape
in both his powerful hands, drew it over his head
and buried his handsome face. Ashamed his hosts
might see him shedding tears.
Whenever the rapt bard would pause in the song,
he’d lift the cape from his head, wipe off his tears,
and hoisting his double-handed cup, pour it out to the gods.
But as soon as the bard would start again, impelled
to sing by the Phaeacian lords who reveled in his tale,
again Odysseus hid his face and wept.

There's this great banquet, and the bard sings about the Trojan War. At this point, you'd think Odysseus would be like, "Hey, that's me!" He'd be very proud. But instead, he cries. This is trauma, where the memories are stirring pain in him. Clearly, something happened during the Trojan War that made him want to forget about it, that made him resent himself, that caused his soul to be ruptured.

He's feeling all this pain because of memories of the war, but he recognizes that if he's going to go home, he needs to confront his pain. He needs to admit his pain. So now he's going to ask the bard to sing the memory that he's most trying to repress. He wants to now focus on the Trojan War and really come to terms with his own trauma.

“I respect you, Demodocus, more than any man alive.
Surely the Muse has taught you, Zeus’s daughter,
or god Apollo himself. How true to life,
all too true, you sing the Achaeans’ fate,
all they did and suffered, all they soldiered through,
as if you were there yourself or heard from one who was.
But come now, shift your ground. Sing of the wooden horse
Epeus built with Athena’s help, the cunning trap
that good Odysseus brought one day to the heights of Troy,
filled with fighting men who laid the city waste.
Sing that for me—true to life as it deserves—
and I will tell the world at once how freely
the Muse gave you the god’s own gift of song.”
Stirred by the Muse, the bard launched out in a fine blaze of song,
starting at just the point where the main Achaean force,
setting their camps afire, had boarded the oar-swept ships
and sailed for home. But famed Odysseus’ men already crouched
in hiding, in the heart of Troy’s assembly—
masked in that horse the Trojans dragged themselves
to the city heights. Now it stood there, looming...
and round its bulk the Trojans sat debating,
clashing, days on end. Three plans split their ranks:
either to hack open the hollow vault with ruthless bronze,
or haul it up to the highest ridge and pitch it down the cliffs,
or let it stand, a glorious offering made to pacify the gods.
And that final plan was bound to win the day.
For Troy was fated to perish once the city lodged
inside her walls the monstrous wooden horse
where the prime Argive power lay in wait
with death and slaughter bearing down on Troy.
And he sang how troops of Achaeans broke from cover,
streaming out of the horse’s hollow flanks to plunder Troy.
He sang how left and right they ravaged the steep city,
sang how Odysseus marched right up to Deiphobus’ house
like the god of war on attack with godlike Menelaus.
There, he sang, Odysseus fought the grimmest fight
he had ever braved, but he won through at last,
thanks to Athena’s superhuman power.
That was the song the famous harper sang.
But great Odysseus melted into tears,
running down from his eyes to wet his cheeks...
as a woman weeps, her arms flung round her darling husband,
a man who fell in battle, fighting for town and townsmen,
trying to beat the day of doom from home and children.
Seeing the man go down, dying, gasping for breath,
she clings for dear life, screams and shrills—
but the victors, just behind her,
digging spear-butts into her back and shoulders,
drag her off in bondage, yoked to hard labor, pain,
and the most heartbreaking torment wastes her cheeks.
So from Odysseus’ eyes ran tears of heartbreak now.

Now we know what happened. For 10 years, Odysseus and the Greeks were trying to defeat the Trojans, and they could not do it because the Trojans were behind a walled city. So Odysseus prayed to Athena for inspiration, and one day he had it: the Trojan horse. He sneaks in, gets into the underbelly of the horse with other soldiers, and they get into the city. At night, they leave the horse, open the gates of Troy, and the Greeks stream in and start to conquer the city.

Odysseus is killing because it's war, and he's full of adrenaline. But then something catches his eye. He strikes down a soldier, and then a woman comes crying, traumatized at the sight of her husband's death. And Odysseus is traumatized by this woman being traumatized because he came to Troy to save women. He sees Penelope in this woman. He thinks, "I came all this way to make sure that Helen could be safe with her husband," and now he recognizes, "I just killed someone's husband."

But not only that, the Greeks come and take her off to be enslaved. By winning this war, he has destroyed every single family in Troy. He's caused the suffering of thousands and thousands of women and children, and that is what he sees for the first time. For the longest time, he believed he was here to fight for justice, to save families, to leave a legacy for his son. And now he recognizes, no, this is not a just war. I'm destroying a civilization. This is not a war about family; this is a war about destroying families. And what legacy am I leaving my son? How will my son feel if he knows how I destroyed families like ours?

This causes trauma in him. It splits his soul and basically drives him crazy. And that's the central conflict in the Odyssey. Having done so much evil, how can you go home? How can you repair yourself? How can you mend your soul and repair your worldview so that you can live for your family?