I.

The first fact about the AEolian Isle is that it was afloat in the

waters of the sea, as Delos and other islands of antiquity were

reported to be. Not stationary then; the king of it, AEolus, has a name

which indicates a changeable nature, veering about like the winds, of

which he is king. The second fact pertaining to this Isle is that a

wall of brass encircles it not to be broken through; "and the cliff

runs up sheer from the sea." Manifestly two opposite ideas are

suggested in this description: the fixed and the movable; the island

within itself is bound fast, and cannot be driven asunder; yet it

floats in the most unstable of elements, in the sea and winds. Such is

the physical environment, clearly mirroring the meaning. Something

permanent in the midst of all that is mutable we may expect to find

here.

On the island dwell the King of the Winds and his wife, along with six

blooming sons and daughters. He gave his daughters to his sons for

wives; a custom not elsewhere found in Homer outside of the realm of

the Gods; yet is claimed to have been a very ancient custom, which the

Ptolomies revived in Egypt. At any rate here is the picture of the

Family in its patriarchal form, wholly separated from other connections

and set apart by itself, on the brass-bound precipitous island. The

Family is abstracted from the rest of the world and given a

dwelling-place.

At this point we begin to catch a glimpse of the significance of the

story. The Family is the first power which seizes the emotions and

passions and caprices of men (the winds of his soul) and starts the

taming of them; the marriage tie is fixed, is not for a day; thus the

Family makes itself permanent, and makes the human being stable through

feeling and duty. None but married people are here; very different will

it be hereafter in the island of Circe. The king of the winds is not

only AEolus, but also his institution, the Family, rules here, for there

is no State to be governed. Not polygamy, but monogamy, as the great

Homeric principle of domestic life, do we witness--the mutual devotion

of one man and one woman. Externally we found the fixed and the

floating; internally also we discover the fixed and the floating, or

rather, that principle which fixes the floating, and makes the world

stable. Thus we see the reason why Homer puts the Family upon the Isle

of the Winds.

It is no wonder, therefore, that in such a place is held up before us a

picture of happiness and plenty. "All feast from day to day with

endless change of meats;" why ask whence the viands come? The inner

peace provides them. Even the sound of flutes is heard round about,

according to one way of translating the passage; music attunes the

everlasting festival. Not mere gratification is this, but happiness,

the outer again mirroring the inner; domestic harmony is the matter set

forth.

Hither Ulysses comes with his companions, "to the city and beautiful

houses" of AEolus. A city is here, but no civil life is introduced into

the story. "A whole month the monarch entertained me;" what was again

the interest? "He asked me about Ilium," the eternal theme, which lies

always in the background of Fairyland as well as of Historic Hellas.

The Trojan war and also "the Return of the Greeks" were recounted, we

may say, sung by Ulysses; the Iliad and the Odyssey, delighted also

those domestic AEolians. Was not Troy destroyed because of a wrong done

to the Greek Family? Finally Ulysses was gotten ready to be sent home

by his host.

AEolus, the ruler of the winds, gives them into the might of Ulysses; he

confines them in "a bullock's bladder," which, tied by a silver chain,

he places in the ship. It is manifest that the sea, deprived of these

windy powers, cannot hinder the passage. Again we behold the main fact

of the island: the unstable, uncertain, capricious, is held by the

fixed, the permanent; during his sojourn with AEolus, Ulysses has

obtained an inner hold, an anchorage of the moral kind, which he sorely

needed. This was given him by his view of the Family, which was the

real security of the island. All the conditions of his return (but one)

are placed in his hand, tied up in a bag. "Only the west-wind was

allowed to blow," which sent him homewards.

Still the supreme condition was not, could not be given by AEolus or by

anybody else, could not be tied up in a bag. The free man must be

alert, he must watch, and win his own salvation; his prime duty is to

keep the bag tied, and therein to exercise his will. This is just what

he failed to do at the last moment. He went to sleep when in sight of

Ithaca; his companions, led by curiosity and avarice (two blasts of the

soul) open the bag, expecting to find gold and silver, and find the

rushing winds. Of course all are driven back to the starting-point, to

the island, on which they soon land.

What will Ulysses do in such extremity? "Shall I drop into the sea and

perish, or shall I still endure and stay among the living?" Suicide

will not solve his problem: "I remained and suffered." Herein also we

trace the stamp of the hero, whose special call it is to master fate.

So Ulysses tries again to get the bladder of winds from AEolus,

confessing that it was equally the fault of himself and his companions.

But the opportunity is gone; the sum total of conditions, all bagged

and tied up, and put into his hands, presents itself only once.

Moreover the sleep of Ulysses, just at the nick of destiny, showed an

internal weakness; he became careless, almost insolent under such

circumstances; he manifested a similar trait to that which led to the

curse of the Cyclops. Again he hears a malediction, now uttered by his

former host: "Get thee out of my island quickly, most guilty of men,

hated by the Gods!" Thus AEolus regards the man before him, and

reinforces the curse of Polyphemus. But if Ulysses had to fall asleep

by sheer fatigue (which construction the passage hardly demands), then

he did not look properly after his companions, making them the sharers

of his knowledge. A foolish question has been asked here and much

discussed: How did Ulysses know what his companions said during his

sleep? Easily enough; but the answer is not worth the candle.

AEolus, therefore, refuses to receive Ulysses and his companions a

second time; they have fallen, they must experience the full meaning of

their conduct; they must go to Circe, and some of them, at least, be

changed into swine, till they know the nature of their deed. AEolus

cannot receive them, they have destroyed his gift; they would repeat

their act, if he gave all into their hands again, without the deeper

penalty. The law thus is clear; they, having disregarded the fixed

control of appetite and passion, which the King of the Island imparts,

are swept back into brutishness.

Many have been the interpretations of this marvelous King and his

children and his island. The supporters of the physical theory of

mythology have maintained that the twelve sons and daughters are the

twelve months of the year, six of summer and six of winter, while

AEolus, the father, is the Sun who produces them. Others regard AEolus as

a mortal king, who, on account of certain traits or certain deeds, was

transformed into the fabled monarch of the winds. There has been much

dispute over the location of AEolia; the most of those who have searched

for its geographical site are in favor of one of the Lipari Islands, on

the northern coast of Sicily. Finally Virgil has somewhat transformed

the legend and put it into his AEneid.