An Odyssey
for Old Guys?

by Roger Martin

    A jazzy translation of Homer's epic, the Odyssey, by University of Kansas classics professor Stan Lombardo, earned high praise in the New York Times Book Review.

     There's plenty to delight kids in this book. A giant one-eyed Cyclops traps Odysseus and his best warriors in a cave. He makes finger food out of some of them. Then our hero and the remaining men blind the Cyclops. After that, Odysseus can't stop himself from talking trash to the big creep.

    For women, the book offers the figure of longsuffering Penelope, who cleverly stalls a house full of suitors who are hanging out and competing for her hand during her husband Odysseus' prolonged absence from home. They think he's died in the war between the Greeks and Trojans. Penelope puts them off by saying she'll choose a new guy -- but first she needs to finish this big weaving she's working on. Unbeknownst to them, she's undoing at night all the weaving she's done in the day, hoping against hope that her beloved will return.

    Another great woman is the wise goddess Athena, a constant counselor to Odysseus as he wends his way home, calming him, helping him be patient and wise, counseling restraint at the proper times.

    Even so, after having read this wonderful epic three times in my life, I want to go on record: I think the Odyssey is a book for older guys.

    For one thing, it's not about the pleasureful surges of chemical attraction to a new love, but the heart's treasuring of the old.

    The first of Odysseus' three involvements with women is with Calypso, a goddess who shares her island with him but who has nothing in common with the hero, Lombardo says. Then Odysseus meets Circe, with whom he has only a spiritual connection.

    All along, however, our hero recognizes his singular bond to Penelope. Lombardo says, "At one point Odysseus remarks that there's nothing better in the world than when husband and wife think alike and have one mind and one heart. His mind is very close to Penelope's mind."

    The book is also about the hardest lessons some men ever learn: self-control, trust and surrender.

    For example, Odysseus has to disguise himself as a beggar and endure humiliation once he returns to his homeland in order to size up the situation there and plot his revenge on Penelope's rapacious suitors. Then, the night before he takes his revenge, obsessive thoughts keep him tossing and turning. "Let it go," Athena advises. "Some people trust their puny human friends more than you trust me."

    Men in every age have been taught by word and example to claw and grasp. They seldom understand the power, freedom and sheer necessity of letting go of the controls and being patient. Some men learn these virtues only under duress, but all men who wish to be wise must learn them.

    Even then, it's hard to hold on to the wisdom. In the epic's last lines, Odysseus, having slaughtered Penelope's suitors, is confronted by their revenge-minded relatives. Athena shouts at all those present to lay down their arms. The relatives flee in dread. Odysseus takes out after them. But Zeus sends a personal message to him, through Athena, that it's time for him to show restraint as well.

    Because it's easy for older men to forget the scraps of wisdom we pay for with our suffering, we are never done changing.

     Now here's what translator Lombardo thinks of the Odyssey.

    Q: What's the ideal reading age for the Odyssey?

    A: Fifth graders have read it and profited. That might be the lower limit. It's the sort of thing that you can read late in life, also. The more experience you have, the more you appreciate Odysseus as a man who learns from his experience.

    Young girls really like it for Penelope. They get into what she's going through, some kind of deep sympathy. I go around to the schools a lot, and the junior high kids like it for the adventures.

    Q: I think of it as an old man's book.

    A: Did I tell you about the cover I wanted for the book? It sums it up for me. It was a black and white photograph by a Czech named Josef Koudelka, in an anthology called Gypsies. It's a man and a woman. She's staring straight ahead. She's maybe 50. Her hair is pulled back. She's in front of a cheap, white lace curtain and is cradling, in her arms, the head of a man in profile. He has on a tattered coat. It's Eastern Europe, post World War II, and these people have been through enormous suffering but they're together again.

    Q: How is the Odyssey different from Homer's other great epic, the Iliad?

    A: The Odyssey is an intensely human poem. The first word of the first line is andra -- "man." The gods don't play nearly the role that they play in the Iliad.

    Poseidon causes some trouble in the Odyssey, sure. He's after Odysseus. And Hermes helps Odysseus once. But there are a total of four gods in the Odyssey, mostly in minor roles. Even Athena is there in a kind of advisory capacity to Odysseus.

    Odysseus shows what a human being can do. He shows that someone in full possession of his wits, who is constantly alert and paying attention, can survive almost anything.

    Q: What about Odysseus appeals so strongly to Athena?

    A: In Book 13, Athena catches him in a lie, and she says, "You cunning, habitual liar, I love you. I think you're great." She calls him one of the two shrewdest minds in the universe. To her he's a soul mate.

    Q: And what about him and Penelope? What's the basis of their attraction?

    A: His mind is very close to hers. They're always coming closer and closer together. There's a Greek word for it: homophrosyne. Homo means "same" or "like" and phrosyne means "mind."

    When we first see Odysseus with a woman -- Calypso -- their minds are not at all alike. And between him and Circe there's a spiritual kindship, but they've also got differences.

    Then, in Book 6, Odysseus says to Nausicaa that there's nothing better in the world than when a husband and wife think alike and have one mind and one heart.

    Q: What's this book to teach us?

    A: Keep your wits about you and your heart true. Odysseus never loses sight of what's really important and what he really cares about. He gets home because he cares about it. Imagine: seven years on an island with Calypso, and every day he's crying his eyes out. He's not going to give up or forget.

    Q: What gets Odysseus into such trouble? What laws of heaven or Earth does he violate?

    A: He really loses it a few times. He loses it once with Penelope, who tricks him into revealing himself. He loses self-control in that instance to establish his identity.

    In fact, it's in trying to establish his identity that he loses it three times.

    Q: Is one of the book's themes the need to surrender will?

    A: Yes, surrender is a theme. When he returns to his homeland and disguises himself as a beggar to size up the situation, he puts his pride down. He has to lose ego, and when he can do that completely, he can triumph.

    Q: You've been criticized for using slang in your translation. I remember Odysseus saying "I just might haul off and bust you in the mouth." How do you defend that? Aren't you afraid that any slang you use eventually will seem dated?

    A: I try to choose slang that's been around a long time. "Bust you in the mouth" has been around 50 years.

     Lots of words, we don't even know what they mean. They occur once and only once. My guess is that a lot of those words would be equivalent to our slang.

    Q: Is there any evidence in the text, as you read it, that Homer was blind? Anything that tips you off to that?

    A: I think it's Homer's awareness of light. Homer's sense of light leads to these beautiful images of his related to dawn. I sense Homer's blindness in the notice he pays to the luster of things, the way things shine. It's something that seems to be apprehended by all of the senses, the complete mind, rather than just the eyes.

Return to Table of Contents

 

Lombardo and Homer.

(Wally Emerson)