Polyphemus in Love

It is one of the ironies of Ovid that he gives one of the most moving love songs to the Cyclops, Polyphemus, who in previous literature is presented as rather unskilled in speech. But, being smitten by Galatea, love transforms the Cyclops from a ravening killer to an eloquent love poet. Galatea, however, does not return his love, for she loves another, Acis. Recognizing his own seemingly frightening appearance, Polyphemus says:

Don't think me ugly because my body's a bristling thicket
of prickly hair. A tree is ugly without any foliage;
so is a horse, if a mane doesn't cover his tawny neck;
birds are bedecked in plumage, and sheep are clothed in their own wool.
Men look well with a beard and a carpet of hair on their chests.
I've only one eye on my brow, in the middle, but that is as big
as a fair-sized shield. Does it matter? The Sn looks down from the sky
on the whole wide world, and he watches it all with a single eye.
(Ovid, Metamorphoses 13.845-53)

In the larger section and the book as a whole, Ovid does something interesting; he transforms, metamorphosizes if you will, the monsters from Homeric and Virgilian epic into multidimensional characters, filled out by love and loss. Polyphemus, the man-eating Cyclops, becomes a hopeless, and somewhat eloquent, lover and love poet. Scylla, the monstrous woman with dogs for her lower body, who eats Odysseus' men in the Odyssey, becomes a tragic woman. She is sought by someone she doesn't love. He will not let go of his love for her and seeks help from Circe, but Circe falls for him, and out of spite, transforms Scylla into her monstrous shape. It was, then, in revenge that she ate Odysseus' (now Ulysses') men, since Circe had helped Ulysses and became his lover. Ovid does something very Homeric and un-Homeric at the same time. Like Homer, he evokes strong pathos in his stories, but, unlike Homer, that pathos is directed toward the monstrous characters. We see things from their point of view, and we sympathize with them.

Quote of the Day: Odyssey 15.69-71

Here is a little morsel that we discussed in my class, Literature Humanities:

I would disapprove of another
hospitable man who was excessive in friendship,
as of one excessive in hate. In all things balance is better.
(Odyssey 15.69-71; Trans. Lattimore)

This statement is made by Menelaos to Telemachos. My students know why I think this statement concerning hospitality or guest-friendship or xenia is significant. Xenia, or guest-friendship, was an extraordinarily important custom and ancient Greece and in the ancient Mediterranean and ancient Near East as a whole. It would have been especially important for itinerant bards who would rely very heavily on the institution. It follows certain procedures. Usually, when a stranger comes, the host will give them food and drink, perhaps a bath, perhaps a bed to sleep on, and then and only then will they ask who they are, where they come from, etc. In the end, if they are social equals, or both people of high rank, they will exchange gifts. This quote demonstrates the balance that the entire story of the Odyssey seeks to strike between the Phaeacians (Phaiakians) who are so excessive in friendship that they take it to absurdity. Firstly, at each point they are a bit excessive. But when it comes to the "gift," the king of Phaiakia offers his own daughter to a stranger he does not even know--at this point it is good to note that they are out of order: they have not learned who the stranger (happens to be Odysseus) is and are offering their daughter in marriage as a present. This pushes the limits of guest-friendship to absurdity.

On the other end is usually placed the Cyclops, Polyphemos. He is isolated and untrusting. While Odysseus breaches things a bit by going into the cave and beginning to eat Polyphemos' food uninvited, the Cyclops clearly has no respect for the institution of guest-friendship nor its patron, Zeus. He asks who they are before offering anything (although Odysseus and his men helped themselves). For the "meal" here, though, the Cyclops begins to eat Odysseus' men. His "gift" to Odysseus is that he will eat him last. This parody on guest-friendship demonstrates the opposite of the Phaeacians. But both positions are excessive. The Phaiakians are exceedingly trusting and hospitable, the Cyclops is exceedingly distrustful (he is afraid Odyssues is a pirate, and, well, he is not far off since Odysseus had just sacked a city) and inhospitable. Both groups, however, are somewhat naive, or, at least have a certain innocence about them. They both contrast Odysseus in their lack of cunning and guile. Whereas Odysseus is always cunning, resourceful, the "man of many ways (polutropos)."

The key to all of this, however, is that Odysseus is telling the Phaiakians the story about the Cyclops. He seems to relish in telling them, the most naive people imaginable, just how cunning and deceptive he is, and, yet, in the end, they refuse to believe that he is so deceptive (11.362-9). This puts things in a pickle, however. Since Odysseus is telling a story about how deceptive he is, if the king of the Phaiakians (Alcinous / Alkinoos) is right in saying that he cannot be so deceptive, Odysseus has been telling a deceptive story about being so devious. Or, if Odysseus' story is true, then his deceits throughout are true. Either way, he has been deceitful.

Do we believe anything that Odysseus says?