Welcome to the Odyssey Reading Group! Anyone is welcome to join in at any time, regardless of their Greek ability. If you’re itching to explore Homer’s epic tale of survival, adventure, love, lust, kinship, betrayal and spooky dead people, hop on in, you’ll be very welcome. People who have some Greek but have never tried reading Homer before are doubly welcome.
I’ve also been making flashcards to go with Steadman’s text (vocab occurring >8 times in Books 6-8)Next week (Friday 9th August) we’ll be reading Book 6 Lines 211-238
A few thoughts about Nausicaa’s response to Odysseus. My Greek is so poor that I have no ear for differences in register and tone, so hopefully someone can help me out here - Nausicaa opens with ἐπεὶ, but this clause is interrupted by a long parenthesis about Zeus doling out fortune and misfortune. Allen renders this interruption with the raised point at line 187, and most translations don’t seem to bother translating ἐπεὶ. Is it being answered by “οὔτ ̓ οὖν ἐσθῆτος δευήσεαι” at line 192, which also answers the ἐπεὶ at 191, or does she simply cut off her own thought? I read Allen’s raised point more like an ellipsis (“Stranger, since you don’t seem to be a bad or stupid man… Of course Zeus himself hands out fortune…”) - perhaps because the confidence she’s been given by Athena doesn’t extend to her speech-making, so she nervously interrupts herself when the thought occurs to mention Zeus.
Nausicaa’s speech seems to make an impression on Odysseus - I can’t help feeling he remembers her kind words when he’s responding to Euryalos’ taunts in book 8, reversing the sentiment to get one over on him.
In the first line of both, ξεῖνʼ and ἔοικας are occupying what look like formulaic positions, but there are also other similarities between the two lines (negative construction; κακῷ/καλὸν; φωτὶ/ἀνδρὶ). Are these formulaic or just a kind of mirroring of sentiment - φωτὶ/ἀνδρὶ occupy the same metrical space, but κακῷ/καλὸν don’t, for instance.
A final thought on her speech - it’s interesting that she doesn’t ask who he is. Is this perhaps because she has made a big show of the hospitality of the Phaeacians to all-comers, so it doesn’t matter? I wonder what she would have done with him if she’d decided he was mad, bad and dangerous to know.
perhaps because the confidence she’s been given by Athena doesn’t extend to her speech-making, so she nervously interrupts herself when the thought occurs to mention Zeus.
Because of the loose syntax of these lines (perhaps mwh or hylander can weigh in on this), Stanford believes she is inwardly nervous and delivers this statement to give herself confidence. Here’s his commentary for this week’s lines: https://archive.org/details/odysseystanford003
Hainesworth, on the other hand, says the loose syntax is “not untypical” and cites iii 103, viii 236, xiv 149 and xvii 185. He finds " indeed her self-possession(justified by 201ff.)is amusingly evident throughout this book".
Personally, I’m leaning toward Hainesworth’s point of view. She gives many reasons why there is no need to fear this man and takes charge of the situation from line 198 on.
I think the sense is ‘what are small gifts for us to give would be very welcome for him to receive’ (I think I’ve gone over my word limit with that translation). Good things may come in small packages. Merry says the scholia have ὀλίγη μὲν τῷ διδόντι, φίλη δὲ τῷ λαμβάνοντι. But I like your reading which reminds me of the parallels with Matthew 25:35-36 - I’m sure someone else will let us know if it’s not allowed.
From the bit you’ve quoted - I’m aware βρῶσίν τε πόσιν τε is a very standard formula, but given the context is there any chance it could be heard as the Freudian slip “meat and husband”? I assume there must be some punning of πόσις/πόσις somewhere in the corpus.
I forgot that the golden rule is always to read the commentaries first! Thanks for posting this, I don’t have either - I was reading the Oxford commentary on Scribd for a while before they took it down and very much enjoying it (just not to the tune of £100 for three volumes). I agree with Hainesworth that Nausicaa is very self-possessed in Book 6, but thinking back to her being awkward with her father earlier I wonder if this being her first line makes it special. A kind of ‘cough twice and make yourself sound important’ moment.
Incidentally, Stanford mentions his punctuation at the end of line 187 - does he use a raised dot too?
Hi Sean,
Rather than using the greek semi-colon (or colon, same mark), he uses what I believe is an em-dash. It’s like an hyphen, except about 3 times longer and has the function of highlighting text. It can be used in place of a colon.
I posted the page on archive.org, so you can have a look: https://archive.org/details/macmillanodyssey001
Here’s the Hainesworth commentary for this week: https://archive.org/details/hainesworthcommentary001
What I think should strike us about Nausicaa is her self-possession. That applies to her earlier interaction with her father too. Here the poet highlights the fact that unlike her maids she is not fazed in the slightest by Od’s appearance, and now that she responds to his supplication I don’t think there’s any hesitancy in her words; she’s shown as very much in control of the situation. Her opening ξεῖν ̓, ἐπεὶ οὔτε κακῷ οὔτ ̓ ἄφρονι φωτὶ ἔοικας conveys her acknowledgment of his courtesy and civilized behaviour and her intention of giving a receptive reply, and the continuation (188-90) deftly absolves him of responsibility for his sorry state: it’s just what Zeus dished out to him (Agamemnon similarly shifts blame from himself in the Iliad; it’s a trope). She’s presented as considerate and tactful, and eminently marriageable.
If anything’s a “parenthesis” hereabouts, it’s the ἐπεὶ clause, which I’m inclined to read as properly elliptical: “since you seem to be a decent and sensible guy, [I’ll respond accordingly].” γάρ is often used in a similar sort of way. It typically follows the opening vocative. I wonder if δ ̓ after Ζεὺς in the next line is intrusive (as it often is). In any event, the sequence of thought is perfectly smooth.
I expect everyone registered the etiquette of supplication in last week’s passage. Odysseus has no past favours towards Nausicaa to use to induce her compliance; he has no claim on her at all. In such circumstance all a suppliant can do is beg for pity (175)—and in lieu of even a prospective gift, a prayer that the gods give her her heart’s desires—viz., a man, and a happy union with him (180-185). Now in her reply (188ff.) Nausicaa avoids responding directly to that (her αιδως would restrain her, just as with her father earlier) by making the point that Zeus gives people fortune however he wishes—just as he has with poor Odysseus (to come full circle).
As to why she doesn’t ask him who he is, well, for one thing it would be impolite, and more than that, just think how much damage it would do to the poem. Homer defers the question for an exceptionally long time. He eventually lets Arete ask it in a multipart question (7.238, τίς πόθεν εἰς ἀνδρῶν; τίς …), only to have Odysseus make Ogygia and Kalypso his starting-point. The revelation of his identity is held in reserve for when Alkinoos finally notices the effect that Demodokos’ song is having on him, hundreds of lines later (8.533, 550). Let’s not forget that the poet’s in charge.
Two final notes:
(1) The golden rule, of course, is never to look at commentaries first. But they can serve to quash some harebrained ideas. (And the scholia Sean quotes from Merry would have answered Barry’s question.)
(2) In my perversely puristic way I try to blind myself to the punctuation, though of course it does give an idea of how the editor is taking the text. Same with translation.
Thank you for offering up this reading, it’s definitely more satisfying than leaving the ‘since’ out altogether. I’ll admit though that if I was dramaturging this for the stage I’d be very tempted to have her glance at Odysseus’ modesty branch after ἔοικας, take a moment to shake off that image and then say Ζεὺς (!)
Impolite because he’s a stranger, or because he’s naked? Presumably not the former, given Telemachus asks the same question to Mentes/Athena just after he’s met him/her (1.170 τίς πόθεν εἰς ἀνδρῶν;), but why does his being naked make it impolite? As for the damage to the poem, I don’t buy this given Odysseus’ record of lying about who he is. Surely a little white lie here wouldn’t ruin the dramatic satisfaction of the big reveal later?
Ha! In this case my golden rule was to look at the commentaries before posting my harebrained ideas to textkit as if I’d had an original thought.
A decent host will only ask his guest’s name after he has eaten, and Homer says this explicitly, although I don’t remember the passage(s) right now (but as mwh says, in the Phaeacian episode Odysseus revealing his name is delayed for an exceptionally long time, for the purpose of the story). In the Odyssey, the way in which a stranger is received is very standardized, and the poet describes these encounters with almost stereotypical formulas that are often repeated almost verbatim from one passage to the other; these are called “type-scenes” (other type-scenes are, for example, sacrifice, and in the Iliad arming scenes and duels). But it in the same time, there are subtle differences from one scene to another, and by paying attention to these differences you can make inferences about what kind of person the host is. I believe the Cyclops is, significantly, the only host who immediately wants to know the name of his guest, and his receiving Odysseus is more generally a perversion (or parody, as Seneca would say) of the host vs. guest type-scene.
Ah right, so it’s when the question is asked that determines its impoliteness. That makes sense. Your thoughts chime with de Jong’s comments on the Telemachus bit:
But to me this suggests that, having fed him (6.249), she should ask who he is to avoid being a bad host? Although as she’s showing him the way to her father’s palace she probably expects she will see him again and the need to exchange telephone numbers isn’t quite so pressing.
In short, no, I don’t think it works that way. But I think that it would be untactful from Odysseus if he didn’t tell his name at some stage before parting, because only that way he can potentially give reciprocal hospitality in the future, if the need arises. Note that it is also possible to be a bad guest in the Odyssey, the prime example being the suitors who abuse the hospitality of Odysseus’ household.
Thanks Paul, I really do learn a lot from these threads, even though my own abilities as host leave much to be desired! Perhaps I should follow the Homeric example and always begin by feeding everyone to ensure reciprocal hospitality.
Michael your input is obviously hugely appreciated. I apologise if I stretch the limits of human patience with my basic questions - I am immensely grateful that those with so much experience and understanding stop by to give them thoughtful consideration beyond their due.
I wonder if the role of guest-friendship discussed here has been gender blind?
Is Nausicaa really in a position to offer guest-friendship? How could she reciprocate having no oikos of her own like all the other women (as opposed to gods and Demi-gods) in the Odyssey.
Whittaker observes that “All social relationships outside of the oikos are conducted by men. The institution of guest-friendship and gift-exchange made much of by Finley concerns men only and the normal sphere of women was the house which, as far as we know, they could not leave freely, but probably did so only in exceptional circumstances.”
But Nausicaa encounters Odysseus by the sea, outside the oikos she belongs to, in a limbo where status is ambiguous and so perhaps the normal rules are in abeyance. By contrast when Telemachus meets Nestor by the sea he has decamped there with his whole oikos and sits with his sons feasting - in a sense the liminality of the Sea has been mitigated by this. I think the liminality of Nausicaa’s situation allows her to speak to Odysseus but is it reasonable that she is engaging in an act of guest-friendship?
Another thing to bear in mind is that Nausicaa’s self possession is implanted by Athena and it is through her that Nausicaa is embolden to speak:
Because of this and taking account of the otherness of Scherie I think we should be wary of trying to make Nausicaa conform. I think this episode invites us to question the limits and scope of guest-friendship.
A very insightful contribution and a very interesting article (which has also raised some questions for the coming weeks)!
Are your thoughts on the crossover between the liminal and the littoral your own observation or are you referring to something specific?
Something not explored in Whittaker’s article but which I’ve found interesting in Homer is that, in terms of physical freedom, the shore represents for men a liminal space but for women a terminal one, unless they are being ‘transported’ by men, like Helen. So here we see Nausicaa coming to the shore and likely reaching the limit of where she is able to go unaccompanied by men. For Odysseus himself, of course, the shore has sometimes (physically) been liminal and at other times terminal, such as his stay on Ogygia. I wonder whether, if we take their traditional etymologies, his hopes are raised in this respect by hearing that there is a ‘King Mighty Mind’ in charge of this island but shaken slightly by hearing later his daughter is called ‘Ship-burner’ (6.276).
We can certainly say Nausicaa appears to be acting very maturely in comparison with a normal young person (or that Odysseus is trying to butter up her parents by making her out as such). Is her νόημα ἐσθλόν just good manners, respecting her elders, or is she conforming to some deeper expectation here? Perhaps her actions could be interpreted as an imitation of the guest-friendship she has seen adults provide, even though she only has meagre supplies and a river instead of a hot bath (speaking of which, the “λοῦσʼ ἐν ποταμῷ” is interesting - third person, twisting the facts to make her look better, or first person? Odysseus seems to get away with both at the same time). I’ve warmed to your idea of parody in this section so maybe this is another example of women performing distorted versions of type-scenes normally associated with men.
It’s unambiguously 3rd person. The active is transitive. Also you can’t go switching from one person to another and back again without signaling the switch.
I wouldn’t say that Od is “twisting the facts to make her look better.” His words echo Nausicaa’s orders to her maids in bk.6: ἀλλὰ δότ ̓, ἀμφίπολοι, ξείνῳ βρῶσίν τε πόσιν τε, | λούσατέ τ ̓ ἐν ποταμῷ (209f.). Of course she hadn’t personally washed him (and nor had the maids, as it happened, since Od had asked for privacy), and Od doesn’t mean to suggest that she had. (Her father would be shocked if she had.)
This discussion is getting quite silly I think. Nausikaa behaved exactly as she should (as did Odysseus), regardless of liminality. And she refers to Odysseus as a ξεῖνος from her very first word. The norms of xenia are firmly in place, and remain so throughout his stay.
