I’m undertaking a year-long crash course in the humanities. These are my notes for week 3.
Following Ted Gioia’s curriculum, this week I read the remainder of the Odyssey. On the audiovisual front, I watched a movie that made me think differently about the poem’s subject.
Readings
Last week included books 1-10 of the Odyssey. This week I “read” through the remainder of the poem. “Read” is in quotes because I mostly listened to the audiobook I mentioned last week.
The story pivots when Odysseus returns to Ithaca. Surprisingly, it happens halfway through the poem: all of the famous “adventure” stories, including the encounter with the cyclops and the sirens, happen early on.
The second half emphasizes social relations and (especially) loyalty. When Odysseus returns home, Athena disguises him so he can observe his compatriots. He wants to learn who’s remained true to him and who’s gone over to the suitors who are courting his wife and consuming his wealth.
Notably, he tests Penelope, his wife. He consults primarily with two male confidants: his son Telemachus and Eumaeus, his chief swineherd. The story takes surprisingly long to resolve, which it does in a series of astonishingly violent vignettes. An epilogue reminds us this return is only a brief respite: Odysseus is destined to continue wandering.
A key theme: the expectations and responsibilities imposed by family ties and social roles. Odysseus is king and expected to behave as such. Hosts behave in proscribed ways toward guests. Parties who violate norms face consequences. In particular, we’re continually reminded of parents’ expectations (especially fathers’) expectations toward their children and vice-versa.
Audiovisual
Music: Gioia recommended Beethoven’s third, fifth, and ninth symphonies. These are all works I know well. Still, I revisited the third symphony and fifth symphonies.
Art: Gioia recommended looking at Greek architecture. As with sculpture, architecture is hard to appreciate on screens. I’ve visited the Parthenon IRL, but did it without a guide. As a result, I missed a lot. This lecture from a professor at Notre Dame’s school of architecture filled in blanks:
A friend of mine studied architecture at Notre Dame, and I was always surprised at that school’s focus on classicism. I didn’t understand the relevance of aping ancient architecture in modern times. I still don’t. That said, I can appreciate aspiring to manifest idealized forms in an “imperfect” world.
Cinema: I asked ChatGPT for recommendations of films inspired by the Odyssey. A few were obvious (e.g., 2001: A SPACE ODYSSEY, adaptations of the Odyssey itself) but one stood out since it was already on my to-watch list: Wim Wender’s PARIS: TEXAS.
Like the Odyssey, this film follows a man’s journey “home.” In this case, the journey is internal. The protagonist, Travis, is wandering lost and mute in a barren landscape. He seeks to put the pieces of his shattered family back together.
Reflections
PARIS: TEXAS raises important questions: What is a father? What responsibilities do fathers have towards their children? How should adult men behave? How should they relate to their own parents’ legacy?
These questions are relevant today, but they were urgent in 1984 when the movie came out. The social revolutions of the 1960s upended traditional roles. As often happens, naive idealism led to disaster. Travis’s generation wandered into middle age without a compass. The result: shattered families and loneliness.
The Odyssey portrays a radically different milieu. The relationship between Telemachus and Odysseus (and Odysseus and Laertes, for that matter) couldn’t be more different than that of Travis and Hunter. Characters in the Odyssey don’t shirk or even doubt filial or social duties – they celebrate them.
To be clear: those structures have problems. The Odyssey takes horrific violence – including violence against women – for granted. Social roles are unfair and inflexible. People and animals are objectified. “Fate” overrides choice – and is often used as an excuse for atrocities. A verse from the Rush song Freewill kept coming to mind as I read the poem:
A planet of playthings
We dance on the strings
Of powers we cannot perceive
“The stars aren’t aligned –
Or the gods are malign”
Blame is better to give than receive
Of course, we shouldn’t abide by Bronze Age values. Nobody reads the Odyssey today looking for explicit instructions on how live. (Unlike the Bible – more on that later in this course.) Still, the stories we tell ourselves about who we are matter. They offer pointers for leading fulfilling lives.
That’s how I’m approaching these ancient texts. Stories that stand the test of time do so because they connect us to deep truths. The classics are relevant to the degree they help us answer enduring questions. The one I considered this week was one Travis asked in the movie: What does a father look like?
We won’t get direct answers from these stories. The best they can do is sketch ideals. Much like the proportions in Greek architecture, we must adapt ideals to the conditions we meet on the ground. Which is to say, cultures need models.
For 27 centuries, Odysseus was a preeminent model for adult masculinity in Western culture – flaws and all. We’ve moved on, thankfully. Alas, the fictional character most likely serving that role today is Homer Simpson: a selfish dolt driven by his id.
I’ll take the other Homer any time.