Part 79 (1/2)

Obviously even individual preference was not a strong ingredient in the ”love” of these ”heroes,” and we may well share the significant surprise of Ajax (638) that Achilles should persist in his wrath when seven girls were offered him for one. Evidently the tent of Achilles, like that of Agamemnon, was full of women (in line 366 he especially refers to his a.s.sortment of ”fair-girdled women” whom he expects to take home when the war is over); yet Gladstone had the audacity to write that though concubinage prevailed in the camp before Troy, it was ”only single concubinage.” In his larger treatise he goes so far as to apologize for these ruffians--who captured and traded off women as they would horses or cows--on the ground that they were away from their wives and were indulging in the ”mildest and least licentious”

of all forms of adultery! Yet Gladstone was personally one of the purest and n.o.blest of men. Strange what somersaults a hobby ridden too hard may induce a man to make in his ethical att.i.tude!

ODYSSEUS, LIBERTINE AND RUFFIAN

If we now turn from the hero of the _Iliad_ to the hero of the _Odyssey_, we find the same Gladstone declaring (II., 502) that ”while admitting the superior beauty of Calypso as an immortal, Ulysses frankly owns to her that his heart is pining every day for Penelope;”

and in the shorter treatise he goes so far as to say (131), that

”the subject of the Odyssey gives Homer the opportunity of setting forth the domestic character of Odysseus, in his profound attachment to wife, child, and home, in such a way as to adorn not only the hero, but his age and race.”

The ”profound attachment” of Odysseus to his wife may be gauged in the first place by the fact that he voluntarily remained away from her ten years, fighting to recover, for another king, a worthless, adulterous wench. Before leaving on this expedition, from which he feared he might never return, he spoke to his wife, as she herself relates (XVIII., 269), begging her to be mindful of his father and mother, ”and when you see our son a bearded man, then marry whom you will, and leave the house now yours”--namely for the benefit of the son, for whose welfare he was thus more concerned than for a monopoly of his wife's love.

After the Trojan war was ended he embarked for home, but suffered a series of s.h.i.+pwrecks and misfortunes. On the island of Aeaea he spent a whole year sharing the hospitality and bed of the beautiful sorceress Circe, with no pangs of conscience for such conduct, nor thought of home, till his comrades, in spite of the ”abundant meat and pleasant wine,” longed to depart and admonished him in these words: ”Unhappy man, it is time to think of your native land, if you are destined ever to be saved and to reach your home in the land of your fathers.” Thus they spoke and ”persuaded his manly heart.” In view of the ease with which he thus abandoned himself for a whole year to a life of indulgence, till his comrades prodded his conscience, we may infer that he was not so very unwilling a prisoner afterward, of the beautiful nymph Calypso, who held him eight years by force on her island. We read, indeed, that, at the expiration of these years, Odysseus was always weeping, and his sweet life ebbed away in longing for his home. But all the sentiment is taken out of this by the words which follow: [Greek: epei ouketi aendane numphae] ”_because the nymph pleased him no more_!” Even so Tannhauser tired of the pleasures in the grotto of Venus, and begged to be allowed to leave.

While thus permitting himself the unrestrained indulgence of his pa.s.sions, without a thought of his wife, Odysseus has the barbarian's stern notions regarding the duties of women who belong to him. There are fifty young women in his palace at home who ply their hard tasks and bear the servant's lot. Twelve of these, having no one to marry, yield to the temptations of the rich princes who sue for the hand of Penelope in the absence of her husband.

Ulysses, on his return, hears of this, and forthwith takes measures to ascertain who the guilty ones are. Then he tells his son Telemachus and the swineherd and neatherd to

”go and lead forth these serving-maids out of the stately hall to a spot between the roundhouse and the neat courtyard wall, and smite them with your long swords till you take life from all, so that they may forget their secret amours with the suitors.”

The ”discreet” Telemachus carried out these orders, leading the maids to a place whence there was no escape and exclaiming:

”'By no honorable death would I take away the lives of those who poured reproaches on my head and on my mother, and lay beside the suitors.'”

”He spoke and tied the cable of a dark-bowed s.h.i.+p to a great pillar, then lashed it to the roundhouse, stretching it high across, too high for one to touch the feet upon the ground. And as the wide-winged thrushes or the doves strike on a net set in the bushes; and when they think to go to roost a cruel bed receives them; even so the women held their heads in line, and around every neck a noose was laid that they might die most vilely. They twitched their feet a little, but not long.”

A more dastardly, cowardly, unmanly deed is not on record in all human literature, yet the instigator of it, Odysseus, is always the ”wise,”

”royal,” ”princely,” ”good,” and ”G.o.dlike,” and there is not the slightest hint that the great poet views his a.s.sa.s.sination of the poor maidens as the act of a ruffian, an act the more monstrous and unpardonable because Homer (XXII., 37) makes Odysseus himself say to the suitors that they outraged his maids by force ([Greek: biaios]).

What world-wide difference in this respect between the greatest poet of antiquity and Jesus of Nazareth who, when the Scribes and Pharisees brought before him a woman who had erred like the maids of Odysseus, and asked if she should be stoned as the law of Moses commanded, said unto them, ”He that is without sin among you, let him first cast a stone at her;” whereupon, being convicted by their own consciences, they went out one by one. And Jesus said, ”Where are those thine accusers? Hath no man condemned thee?” She said, ”No man, Lord.” And Jesus said unto her, ”Neither do I condemn thee; go, and sin no more.”

He is lenient to the sinner because of his sense of justice and mercy; yet at the same time his ethical ideal is infinitely higher than Homer's. He preaches that ”whosoever looketh on a woman to l.u.s.t after her hath committed adultery with her already in his heart;” whereas Homer's ideas of s.e.xual morality are, in the last a.n.a.lysis, hardly above those of a savage. The dalliance of Odysseus with the nymphs, and the licentious treatment of women captives by all the ”heroes,” do not, any more than the cowardly murder of the twelve maids, evoke a word of censure, disgust, or disapproval from his lips.

His G.o.ds are on the same low level as his heroes, if not lower. When the spouse of Zeus, king of the G.o.ds, wishes to beguile him, she knows no other way than borrowing the girdle of Aphrodite. But this scene (_Iliad_, XIV., 153 _seq_.) is innocuous compared with the shameless description of the adulterous amours of Ares and Aphrodite in the Odyssey (VIII., 266-365), in presence of the G.o.ds, who treat the matter as a great joke. For a parallel to this pa.s.sage we would have to descend to the Botocudos or the most degraded Australians. All of which proves that the severity of the punishment inflicted on the twelve maids of Odysseus does not indicate a high regard for chast.i.ty, but is simply another ill.u.s.tration of typical barbarous fury against women for presuming to do anything without the consent of the man whose private property they are.

WAS PENELOPE A MODEL WIFE?

If the real Odysseus, unprincipled, unchivalrous, and cruel, is anything but a hero who ”adorns his age and race,” must it not be conceded, at any rate, that ”the unwearied fidelity of Penelope, awaiting through the long revolving years the return of her storm-tossed husband,” presents, as Lecky declares (II., 279), and as is commonly supposed, a picture of perennial beauty ”which Rome and Christendom, chivalry and modern civilization, have neither eclipsed nor transcended?”

We have seen that the fine words of Achilles regarding his ”love” of Briseis are, when confronted with his actions, reduced to empty verbiage. The same result is reached in the case of Penelope, if we subject her actions and motives to a searching critical a.n.a.lysis.

Ostensibly, indeed, she is set up as a model of that feminine constancy which men at all times have insisted on while they themselves preferred to be models of inconstancy. As usual in such cases, the feminine model is painted with touches of almost grotesque exaggeration. After the return of Odysseus Penelope informed her nurse (XXIII., 18) that she has not slept soundly all this time--twenty years! Such phrases, too, are used as ”longing for Odysseus, I waste my heart away,” or ”May I go to my dread grave seeing Odysseus still, and never gladden heart of meaner husband.” But they are mere phrases.

The truth about her att.i.tude and her-feelings is told frankly in several places by three different persons--the G.o.ddess of wisdom, Telemachus, and Penelope herself. Athene urges Telemachus to make haste that he may find his blameless mother still at home instead of the bride of one of the suitors.

”But let her not against your will take treasure from your home. You know a woman's way; she strives to enrich his house who marries her, while of her former children and the husband of her youth, when he is dead she thinks not, and she talks of him no more” (XV., 15-23).

In the next book (73-77) Telemachus says to the swineherd:

”Moreover my mother's feeling wavers, whether to bide beside me here and keep the house, and thus revere her husband's bed and _heed the public voice_, or finally to follow some chief of the Achaians who woos her in the hall with largest gifts.”

And a little later (126) he exclaims, ”She neither declines the hated suit nor has she power to end it, while they with feasting impoverish my home.”