III.

Ulysses now comes to the internal element of Phaeacia, to its soul as it

were, manifested in the institutional life of Family and State. From

this indeed is derived the beautiful world which we have just

witnessed; Art builds up a dwelling-place, which images the spirit of

the people to themselves and to others.

In accord with his instructions from both. Pallas and Nausicaa, he

first goes to Arete and clasps her knees in supplication, begging for

an escort to his country. But behold! She hesitates, notwithstanding

his strong appeal to her domestic feeling and her sympathy with

suffering. What can be the matter? Another Phaeacian, not of the royal

house apparently, but of the nobles, is the first to speak and command

the stranger to be raised up and to be hospitably received. An old

religious man who sees the neglect of Zeus in the neglect of the

suppliant, a man of long experience, "knowing things many and ancient,"

is this Echeneus; him at once the king obeys, the queen still remaining

silent.

Soon, however, we catch the reason of her conduct in the question:

"Stranger, where did you get those garments?" She noticed Ulysses

wearing the mantle and tunic "which she herself had made with her

servants," and which Nausicaa had given him. Surely this is a matter

which must be accounted for before proceeding further. Herein the woman

comes out in her own peculiar province; no man would ever have noticed

the dress so closely; Alcinous did not, and wise Ulysses in this case

did not forecast so far out of his masculine domain. But the poet had

made the subtle observation and uses it as a turning-point in his

little drama. Now we see the queen before us: imagine a pair of dark

eyes shooting indignation upon the man clothed with garments intrusted

this very morning to the daughter.

Nor should we fail to scan her second question: "Do you not say that

you have come hither a wanderer over the deep?" Verily the case is

suspicious. Ulysses sees his plight, and at once offers the most

elaborate explanation, going back and giving a history of himself for

the last seven or eight years. Now we know why the poet specially

praised the mind of Arete, and why her husband so honored her, and why

she could be judge of disputes among men. She shows the keenest

observation united with reasoning power; she stands out in contrast

with the Phaeacian men, who follow impulse more readily than she, as she

keeps the judicial balance, though a woman, and demands evidence of

truth from the uncertain stranger.

We may draw from this scene certain traits of the Phaeacians, as we see

here a man, a typical man probably who is outside of the royal family.

An ideal humanity seems to live in them; they will receive the

unfortunate wanderer and succor him to the fullest extent. More

impressive still is their religious faith; they live in intimate

communion with the Gods, who appear in person at the feast "sitting

among us;" nor do the deities conceal themselves from the solitary

wayfarer; "since we are as near to them as are the Cyclops and the wild

tribes of Giants." So speaks Alcinous, hinting that kinship, which has

been previously set forth; both himself and Arete are the descendants

of savages, who were children of the Gods of nature. But they have

risen into fellowship with the higher Gods of Olympus. The words of the

king seemed to be tinged with sarcasm at those inferior deities,

parents of savagery, from whom, however, they themselves are sprung. He

cannot forget the Cyclops, the men of violence who once did his people

wrong.

In these mythical allusions, obscure enough just here, we have already

traced the rise of Phaeacia into an ethical existence. The worship of

the higher Gods is the emotional side of such a condition, and the

treatment of the suppliant marks an advance toward the conception of an

universal humanity. Still Phaeacia, has its spiritual limits, genuine

Greek limits, of which hereafter something will be said.

It is sufficient to state that the speech of Ulysses has its effect, it

contains a great deal which appeals to the character of Arete; his

leaving Calypso and his desire to return to his home-life must be

powerful motives towards winning her sympathy. Then she cannot help

recognizing and admiring his skill; there is an intellectual bond

between them, as well as an ethical one. Not much does she say

hereafter, her part being finished; her husband takes the lead

henceforth. She has tested the wanderer, Alcinous can now preform the

ceremonies.

We soon see that the king needs a counterpart in such a wife, he being

impulsively generous; he blames his daughter for her backwardness in

not coming to town with Ulysses, whereat the latter frames one of his

smallest fibs in excuse of the maiden. Still further, the king in a

surprising burst of admiration, wishes that Ulysses, or "such an one as

thou art," might stay and be called his son-in-law. Altogether too

sudden; Arete would not have said that, though the woman be the natural

match-maker. Still Alcinous, in a counter-outpouring of his generosity,

promises to send Ulysses to his own land, though "this should be

further off than Euboea, the most distant country." Thus overflows

the noble heart of the king, but he clearly needs his other half, in

the thorny journey of life.

Thus has Ulysses reached the heart of Phaeacia and found its secret

beat; he has felt its saving power, not simply externally but also

internally; it rescues him from dangers of the sea and of himself too.

The truly positive side of life begins to dawn upon him again, after

his long career of struggle with dark fabulous shapes. Well may he pray

Zeus for Alcinous: "May his fame be immortal over the fertile earth"--a

prayer which has been fulfilled, and is still in the process of

fulfillment. Arete gives the order to the servants to spread his couch

for the night's repose, she has received him.

In the sweep of the present Book, many origins are suggested. The

genealogy of the king and queen and people is significant, it might be

called the genealogy of civilization. The woman is placed at the

center; out of her springs the family, and with it come society, state,

the institutional world.

Of such a world the external environment is seen in the garden, palace,

and city of the Phaeacians, which are built by the spirit for its

dwelling-place and reflect the spirit. The Greek world of Beauty is

born, and its course is foreshadowed; this ideal Homeric realm is

prophetic of what Greece is to become. The plastic arts and the

industrial arts are suggested, and to a degree are realized.

The artistic soul of Hellas is fully felt in Homer's Phaeacia. The

formative impulse is everywhere alive and at work; the instinctive need

of shaping and transforming nature and life is here in its first

budding, and will bloom into the greatest art-people of all time. Those

two supreme Fine Arts of mature Greece, Architecture and Sculpture, are

present in examples which foretell plainly Phidias and the Parthenon.

King Alcinous; thy fair palace has had fairer offspring,

Thou art ruling the world still by the beautiful form;

Out of thy mansion majestic was born in a song the Greek Temple,

Sentineled round with a choir--Titans columnar of stone,

Bearing forever their burden to hymns of a Parian measure,

Wearing out heaviest Fate to a Pindaric high strain.

Look! those boys of thy garden with tapers are moving to statues,

Seeming to walk into stone while they are bringing the light;

Hellas springs out of thy palace all sculptured with actions

heroic,

Even the God we discern turning to marble by faith.

Such is the originative, prophetic character of Phaeacia, which the

reader must take profoundly into his soul, if he would understand the

genetic history of Greek spirit. Verily the poet is the maker of

archetypes and reveals in his shapes all that his people are to become.

Thou, old Homer, wert the first builder in Greece, the first

carver,

Afterward she could but turn fancies of thine into stone;

Architects followed thee, building thy poem aloft into temples,

Sculptors followed thee too, thinking in marble thy line.

Nor must we forget the Industrial Arts here suggested--weaving,

ship-building, the working of metals; in general, there is hinted the

varied transformation of nature, which begets a civilized life.

Agriculture is present, also horticulture, which the garden of Alcinous

presupposes. Such, then, is the grand frame-work for the social order

as here portrayed.

But the chief art of the Homeric world has not yet been given, though

it is at work now, and is just that which has reproduced Phaeacia with

all its beauty. This is the poet's own art, which having set forth the

other arts, is next to set forth itself. Accordingly we are to see the

poet showing the poet in the following Book, which may, therefore, be

named the Book of the Bard. Thus we pass out of the industrial and

plastic arts of Phaeacia, into the supreme art, the poetic, as it

manifests itself in the Phaeacian singer.

_BOOK EIGHTH._

We observe a decided change in the present Book; it has a character of

its own quite distinct from the preceding Books. Yet it is on a line of

development with them, we note a further spiritual evolution which must

be looked into with some attention. In general, Phaeacia is now seen as

an art-world, in true correspondence with Hellas, of which it is a kind

of ideal prototype. In the two previous Books we saw portrayed chiefly

institutional life in Family and in State. But in this Book

institutional life, though present and active, is withdrawn into the

background, and becomes the setting for the picture, yet also is the

spirit which secretly calls forth the picture. A poetic art-world now

passes before us in entrancing outlines, a world filled with song,

dance, games, with all the poetry of existence.

Such an artistic development follows from what has gone before. Man,

having attained culture, civilization, and a certain freedom from the

necessity of working for his daily bread, begins to turn back and look

at his career; he observes the past and measures how far he has come.

The image of himself in his unfolding he beholds in art, specially in

the poetic art, whose essence must at last be just this institutional

life which has been described in Phaeacia. He attains it and then steps

back and portrays his attaining of it; having done the heroic deed, he

must see himself doing it forever, in the strains of the bard. Art is

thus the mirror of life and of institutions; it reflects the grand

conflict of the times and the people; it seizes upon the supreme

national event, and holds it up in living portraiture along with its

heroes.

Now the great event which lies back of Phaeacia at the present time, in

fact lies back of all Greece for all ages, perchance lies back of all

Europe, is the Trojan War. It was the first emphatic, triumphant

assertion of the Greek and indeed of the European world against the

Orient. The fight before Troy was not a mere local and temporary

conflict between two quarrelsome borderers, but it cuts to the very

marrow of the World's History, the grand struggle between East and

West. Family and State are most deeply concerned in it, the restoration

of the wife is the main object of the Trojan War, which the chieftains

of Greece must conclude victoriously or perish. A new world was being

born on this side of the AEgean, and the Greeks were its first shapers

and its earliest defenders. This occidental world, whose birth is the

real thing announced at Troy in that marvelous cradle-song of Europe,

called the Iliad, has already begun its career, and shows its earliest

period in Phaeacia. It is no wonder, then, that the Phaeacian people wish

to hear the Trojan song, and it alone, and that the Phaeacian poet

wishes to sing the Trojan song, and it alone.

Thus we behold in the present Book a quiet idyllic folk on their island

home out in the West listening to the mighty struggle of their race,

with dim far-off anticipations of all that it involved. Nor were the

women indifferent. Arete, the wife and center of the Family, is not

henceforth to be exposed to the fate of Helen; think what would Phaeacia

be without her, or she without Phaeacia; think what she would be in

Troy, for instance. Strong emotions must rise in the breasts of all the

people at hearing such a song.

But still stronger emotions well out of the heart of Ulysses. He is one

of the heroes of the Trojan War not yet returned, a living image of its

sacrifices. Of course, he is the main hero sung of by the bard in the

present Book; such is the artistic adaptation of the Homeric work,

clearly done with a conscious design. Ulysses has already passed

through several stages--Calypso, Nausicaa, Arete; now he has reached

the poet, Demodocus certainly, and perchance Homer himself, who is to

sing not only of the Trojan War, but also of its consequences--this

rise of man's spiritual hierarchy as here unfolded, from Nature, into

Institutions, and thence into Art. After hearing Demodocus, Ulysses

picks up the thread and becomes his own poet, narrating his adventures

in Fairyland with the free full swing of the Homeric hexameter. Thus he

acquires and applies in his own way the art of Phaeacia; the arch of his

life spans over from the heroic fighter before Troy to the romantic

singer before the Phaeacian court.

It is plain, therefore, that this Book is distinctively the Book of the

Bard. In the experience of Ulysses, Demodocus is placed on a line with

the three leading figures in the last three Books--they being women,

while the singer must be a man. One reason is, possibly, that a

Phaeacian woman could not be permitted to sing such a strain as the

story of Venus and Mars. At any rate, he is fourth in the row of

shapes, all of which are significant. We catch many touches of his

personality; he is blind, though gifted with song; "evil and good" he

has received, and is therein a typical man. It is in every way a

beautiful loving picture, painted with strong deep undertones of

sympathy; no wonder is it, therefore, that Demodocus in all ages has

been taken as a portrait of Homer by himself, showing glimpses of the

man, of his station in life, and of his vocation. Later on we shall

consider this point in more detail.

The three songs of the bard furnish the main landmarks for the organism

of the Book. All of them will be found more or less intimately

connected with the great event of the immediate Past, the story of

Troy. Phaeacia shows an intense interest in that story and the bard

approves himself its worthy singer. Indeed the three songs stand in

direct relation to the Iliad; the first deals with an event antecedent

to the Iliad; the second has the theme of the Iliad, though in a

changed form, inasmuch as the seducer, the wife and the husband are

here Gods (Mars, Venus, Vulcan) instead of mortals (Paris, Helen,

Menelaus); the third deals with an event subsequent to the Iliad. Yet

the singer carefully avoids repeating anything in the Iliad. It is

almost impossible not to think that he had not that poem in mind; or,

rather, we are forced to conclude that the present author of the

Odyssey knew the Iliad, and we naturally think that both were by the

same man. Demodocus is the singer of the Trojan War, yet he shuns

singing what has already been sung about it. Herein we may catch

another faint reflection of Homer, the organizer, the transfigurer of

old legends into his two poems. Note also that he hovers around the

Iliad, before and after it, yet never into it, here and elsewhere in

the Odyssey; specially in the Third Book have we observed the same

fact.

In the present Book, however, is another strand; besides these songs of

the bard belonging to the past are the doings in Phaeacia belonging to

the present, which doings have a connection and a correspondence with

the songs. Thus we observe three divisions in the Book, and two threads

which run through these divisions. The following outline may serve to

show the general structure:--

I. There is the representation of the struggle between the physical and

mental in what may be called Phaeacian art; skill and strength have an

encounter shown in two ways:

1. Past, heroic, ideal; the contest between Ulysses and Achilles at

Troy; intelligence vs. mere courage. Sung by the bard. Pre-Iliad.

2. Present, real, not heroic; the games in which there is a contest

also, and in which both skill and strength are involved, with the

preponderance of the physical.

II. Now we drop to the sensuous inactive side of the Phaeacian world,

the luxurious, self-indulgent phase of their life, which is also imaged

in their art doubly:

1. Past; an Olympian episode, a story of illicit love among the

Gods, corresponding to the story of Helen on earth. Sung by the

bard.

2. Present; hints concerning the sensuous life of the Phaeacians who

love the feast, the song, the warm bath and bed, along with dance

and music, showing their pleasure in art. Return of the men from

the market-place to the palace and into the presence of Arete.

III. We pass to what may be called the triumph of intelligence and the

recognition thereof,--Phaeacian art is again introduced, Ulysses is

revealed.

1. Past, heroic, ideal; Troy is taken by skill, by the Wooden

Horse, not by the physical might and courage of Achilles. Sung by

the bard. Post-Iliad. This may be considered also a triumph over

Venus who favored Troy.

2. Present; Ulysses weeps, his tears are noticed by Alcinous, who

demands his name, country, travels. Ulysses has already in a number

of ways discovered himself as connected with the past, with the

Trojan War. In the next Book he tells his name, country, character,

adventures.

If we scan the sweep of this outline, we observe that it opens with the

conflict between Brain and Brawn, or between Mind and Might, and ends

in the victory of Mind in the grand Trojan conflict. Similar has been

the movement hitherto, from Calypso onwards, which, however, shows the

ethical conflict. Still the intellectual and the ethical spheres have

to subordinate the natural, and mind is the common principle of both.

As an introduction to the Book we have an account of the men assembling

in the marketplace, where "they sat on polished stones near one

another." Pallas has, of course, to be employed, though in a passing

and very subordinate way; she acts as herald to call the assembly

together, and thus stamps it with a divine import. We must grant to the

poet his right, but the Goddess seems almost unnecessary here, as the

herald could have done the same work. Once more Pallas interferes: "she

sheds a godlike grace upon the head and shoulders of Ulysses,"

imparting to him majesty and beauty, "that he might be dear to all the

Phaeacians," those lovers of the beautiful in art and life. Thus, like a

visible deity, he was "to be feared and to be revered;" strength also

the Goddess gave him, "that he might accomplish all the contests which

the Phaeacians would try him with." Thus is the Hero prepared divinely.

Alcinous makes a speech to the assembly, touching the wanderer, who is

again promised an escort to Ithaca; the king chooses the crew, and the

ship is launched. Meanwhile, however, there is to be a sacrifice with

festival, the bard is led in and his harp adjusted, his portion of food

and drink not being omitted, for he is not a hired musician, but an

equal at the feast.

We are now to witness two kinds of entertainment, both of which

according to the Greek conception, belong to the sphere of art. The one

is an heroic song, and is thrown into the past; the other is a trial of

bodily skill and strength, and belongs to the present. Both kinds show

contest, and this contest is mainly between the physical and the

spiritual elements in man. Which is paramount? Each is necessary, yet

one must be subordinate.

1. Note, first of all, the theme of the bard: "The Muse inspired him to

sing the strife between Ulysses and Achilles, the fame whereof had

reached high Heaven." The Trojan War lies manifestly in the background

of the quarrel. When did it take place, at what period during the

struggle? There is nothing to settle the question decisively, such a

dispute might have arisen almost at any time. But as it is the

antecedent trouble in the Greek army, a dualism which this army brings

with itself in its leaders, we may reasonably put it somewhere towards

the beginning. This is also the opinion of Nitzsch (_Com. ad loc._),

who places the scene of the dispute on the island of Tenedos, in sight

of the walls of Troy and who cites the old _Cypria_ in support of his

opinion. Other ancient authorities place it after the death of Hector;

not long before the fall of the city.

Concerning the subject of the dispute there is little difference of

opinion. The Greek commentator, Eustathius (died about 1200 A.D.)

cites the following legend in reference to it: "Agamemnon, having

consulted the Delphic Oracle about the result of the Trojan War,

received the answer that Troy would be taken when the best men of the

Greeks would begin to quarrel. At a feast a dispute arose between

Achilles and Ulysses, the former maintaining that Ilion would be

captured by bravery, the latter by skill and cunning." Hence the joy of

Agamemnon at what would otherwise be regarded as a ground for sorrow.

The response of the Oracle was ambiguous, yet even out of its ambiguity

we may read something. Achilles, the man of courage, was regarded as

the hero of the Greeks, but this opinion must be contested, and wisdom

must also have its place in the management of the war, before the

hostile city can be taken. These two principles are represented by

Achilles and Ulysses respectively. The God of Wisdom, Apollo, responds,

therefore, in accord with his character, carefully, doubtfully, not

taking a decisive stand on either side, uttering an oracle which itself

needs interpretation. Still we can see that it means a protest against

mere brute courage--a protest which Ulysses voices. The Trojan Horse,

the grand successful stratagem, may be considered as the outcome.

In Shakespeare's _Troilus and Cressida_, the same subject is worked

over very fully and is indeed the main pivot of the drama, in which

Achilles is substantially deposed from his heroship and replaced by

Ulysses. The contest between mind and might or skill and courage, is

what the English poet took from his Greek elder brother in part and in

part derived from later legend. The struggle between brain and brawn

was indeed a vital one in the Greek camp; there was always the danger

lest the spirit would got lost in its physical manifestation. Indeed

the danger of the Greek world was just this, and it perished at last of

the same disease which we already notice at Troy. It fell to a worship

of the sensuous in life and art, and so lost its soul in a grand

debauch.

2. King Alcinous has noticed that Ulysses hid his face and wept at the

song of the bard. Thus strong emotion seizes him on hearing the strife

at Troy, while the Phaeacians listen with delight. Such is the contrast,

hinting two very different relations to the song. But the king will

divert him from his grief, and so calls for the games to show him "how

much we excel others in boxing, wrestling, leaping and running." The

quoit was also one of the games.

In like manner Achilles is diverted from his sorrows for his friend

Patroclus, by an elaborate exhibition of games, which are set forth in

Book Twenty-Third of the Iliad. Contests of strength and skill they

are, showing the body under control of mind and manifesting the same up

to a certain point. They have an artistic side and train the man

physically, requiring also no little mental alertness.

When the Phaeacian contestants had finished, there was an attempt to

bring Ulysses into the game and have him show what he was, but he

declined the courteous invitation; "cares are in my mind more than

games." Then Euryalus taunts him with being a merchant, or robber, and

no athlete. Ulysses makes a caustic reply, picks up the quoit, and

hurls it far beyond the marks of the others; then with some display of

temper he challenges any of the Phaeacians present to any kind of

contest. He even becomes boastful, and tells what he is ready to do in

the way of games; still further, he can shoot the bow and throw the

javelin in heroic fashion--which accomplishments he will employ with

telling effect against the suitors hereafter.

Alcinous pacifies him with gentle words, and proceeds to withdraw all

his previous claims extolling Phaeacian athletic skill. The soft arts of

peace are theirs; "in boxing and in wrestling we have small fame;" but

on the other hand "we delight in feasts, we love the harp and dance;"

new clothes are in favor, and "we like the warm bath and bed." Very

different is now the call of King Alcinous from that last one: let the

stranger see "how much we excel others in the dance and song," to which

is strangely added seamanship. Such is the preparation for the lay of

the loves of Mars and Venus.

Through these games the heroic strand in the stranger has been brought

to light, somewhat in contrast with the Phaeacians. As he had a contest

of mind with Achilles at Troy, so he has now a contest which shows his

physical might; he is no weakling in spite of his intellect. Pallas too

does not fail him, she marks his superiority in the throw of his quoit,

and thus inspires him with courage.