Levaniouk, Olga. 2011. Eve of the Festival: Making Myth in Odyssey 19. Hellenic Studies Series 46. Washington, DC: Center for Hellenic Studies. http://nrs.harvard.edu/urn-3:hul.ebook:CHS_Levaniouk.Eve_of_the_Festival.2011.
Chapter 14. The Decision
ὦ γύναι αἰδοίη Λαερτιάδεω Ὀδυσῆος,
μηκέτι νῦν ἀνάβαλλε δόμοισ’ ἔνι τοῦτον ἄεθλον·
πρὶν γάρ τοι πολύμητις ἐλεύσεται ἐνθάδ’ Ὀδυσσεύς,
πρὶν τούτους τόδε τόξον ἐΰξοον ἀμφαφόωντας
νευρήν τ’ ἐντανύσαι διοϊστεῦσαί τε σιδήρου.
“Respected wife of Odysseus, son of Laertes,
do not postpone this contest in your house any longer.
For much-devising Odysseus will come back beforehand,
before these men can handle the polished bow
and string it and shoot through the iron.” {250|251}
There is no question any more of Odysseus’ being in Thesprotia. Penelope makes no mention of it, even though the beggar who gave her that information has proven his reliability by describing Odysseus’ clothes and even though she has never accused him of lying. The beggar, for his part, does not pretend to sustain the verisimilitude of his Thesprotian story. He does not ask Penelope to wait until Pheidon sends Odysseus to Ithaca, nor at least inquire about her apparently illogical haste with the contest. The Thesprotian story has done its service and is now abandoned. [13] Instead, her guest assures Penelope that Odysseus will be back before the suitors can string the bow, an assurance that seems preposterous in the mouth of anyone but Odysseus himself, and which nevertheless elicits no skepticism from Penelope. She does not suggest that the stranger not stoop to lies, as Eumaeus does earlier. She does not even treat Odysseus’ statement as a prediction of a prophetic type by responding in a conventional way along the lines of “I wish that may come to pass, but it will not.” That she has done before. Now Penelope simply says that she wishes she could stay with her guest all night and not go to sleep:
τέρπειν, οὔ κέ μοι ὕπνος ἐπὶ βλεφάροισι χυθείη.
sitting by me in the house, sleep would not flow over my eyes.
ἀνθρώπους· ἐπὶ γάρ τοι ἑκάστῳ μοῖραν ἔθηκαν
ἀθάνατοι θνητοῖσιν ἐπὶ ζείδωρον ἄρουραν.
ἀλλ’ ἦ τοι μὲν ἐγὼν ὑπερώϊον εἰσαναβᾶσα
λέξομαι εἰς εὐνήν, ἥ μοι στονόεσσα τέτυκται,
αἰεὶ δάκρυσ’ ἐμοῖσι πεφυρμένη, ἐξ οὗ Ὀδυσσεὺς
ᾤχετ’ ἐποψόμενος Κακοΐλιον οὐκ ὀνομαστήν. {251|252}
ἔνθα κε λεξαίμην· σὺ δὲ λέξεο τῷδ’ ἐνὶ οἴκῳ,
ἢ χαμάδις στορέσας, ἤ τοι κατὰ δέμνια θέντων.
For in everything immortals set up a proper measure
for mortals on the life-giving earth.
But I will go to the bedroom upstairs
and lie in my bed, which has become sorrowful for me,
always stained with my tears, since that time when Odysseus
left for that accursed Troy, not to be named.
There I shall lie, and you lie down in this part of the house.
Either spread bedding on the ground, or let the maids make a bed for you.
The deadly contest is still in the future, and yet the mention of her bed at the end of the conversation in Book 19 seems like a glimpse of affection already now proffered to Odysseus. It is, needless to say, camouflaged, and directed not to the beggar but to the supposedly absent Odysseus. Still, Penelope first mentions the pleasure she derives from the beggar’s presence and then describes her lonely bed. She asserts her fidelity to Odysseus, whose departure turned her bed into a place of sorrow, and draws his attention to the fact that for all these years she sleeps alone in the same bed in the same room. In contrast to Penelope’s nightly confinement to the bed, the beggar can sleep where he chooses: he has no sleeping place that is his own. This contrast emphasizes the permanence of the bed but also draws attention to the fact that Odysseus has no access to it yet. Penelope devotes four lines to the bed, and this focus on it at the very end of the dialogue inevitably resonates with what is still in the future in the unfolding plot, but what was surely known to most audiences of the poem, namely her famous final test of Odysseus by means of this very bed. [14] For the moment, the bed remains empty and stained by tears, but it offers to Odysseus a vision of constancy in his house. This vision will make the test in Book 24 all the more effective because it fosters in Odysseus expectations that the test will suddenly undermine. Paradoxically, it is after the contest, when Odysseus does gain access to the bed and when {252|253} so much uncertainty is removed and resolved, that the bed suddenly appears uprooted. The mention of the bed on the eve of the contest is striking in itself, but it is also marked by verbal symmetry. Penelope puts two forms of the verb λέγω, ‘to lie down’, in the same line, one before and one after the caesura, one referring to herself and one to the beggar:
μηδέ μοι ἐξερέεινε γένος καὶ πατρίδα γαῖαν,
μή μοι μᾶλλον θυμὸν ἐνιπλήσῃς ὀδυνάων
μνησαμένῳ· μάλα δ’ εἰμὶ πολύστονος· οὐδέ τί με χρὴ
οἴκῳ ἐν ἀλλοτρίῳ γοόωντά τε μυρόμενόν τε
ἧσθαι, ἐπεὶ κάκιον πενθήμεναι ἄκριτον αἰεί· {253|254}
μή τίς μοι δμῳῶν νεμεσήσεται ἠὲ σύ γ’ αὐτή,
φῇ δὲ δάκρυπλώειν βεβαρηότα με φρένας οἴνῳ.
but do not ask about my family and my native land,
lest you fill my heart with pains even more
as I recollect. For I am full of grief, and it is not fitting for me
to sit in another’s house wailing and crying,
since it is bad to mourn incessantly forever.
And there is a danger that one of your maids, or you yourself, may become indignant with me
and say that I flow with tears because my brain is heavy with wine.
This preemptive apology for tears contrasts sharply with what follows. When Odysseus does in fact tell his tale he demonstrates prodigious feats of memory and precise selection of detail rather than any excessive emotion: Penelope is the one who cries, while his own eyes remain dry. But Odysseus’ mention of tears establishes yet another level of connection between himself and his wife, since it frames his whole performance as a kind of lament. Odysseus speaks of tears as unseemly in another’s house and mentions the nemesis that would fall on him for crying and howling like a drunk (19.122). By virtue of saying all this, however, Odysseus associates his performance with lament, as he makes clear that he is kept from lamenting only by the external circumstances. This motion towards lament comes immediately after the “perfect king” comparison, and is connected to it by a causal τῶ (19.155), leaving Penelope in no doubt about the reason for her guest’s grief: his lost home, where he is the perfect king.
ἔρχεται ἀγγέλλων φάος Ἠοῦς ἠριγενείης,
τῆμος δὴ νήσῳ προσεπίλνατο ποντοπόρος νηῦς.
comes announcing the light of the early-born Dawn,
at that time the seafaring ship put in to the island.
Footnotes