Homer's Odyssey Part 16

The mother died from longing for her son and "the memory of his gentleness;" still her longing brings her to him in the life beyond. The great revelation is concerning the future state: the soul is immortal, this fact Ulysses is to tell in Phaeacia. The strong desire to behold the loved ones who have pa.s.sed away is indeed the impulse; but they too return, though insubstantial. It is the primary groundwork of faith in immortality--this feeling of the domestic relation affirming that it is eternal and cannot be broken by death. Still the mother is but a ghost and cannot be embraced; this the son has to accept, though he would have her in flesh and blood.

_b._ At once there is the transition to the famous mothers of legend--"wives and daughters of Heroes" says the poet, with, an eye to his audience, which has men in it also, so he does not mention mothers, though they are the burden of his strain. Here follows a Catalogue of Women, giving them their due place in the genealogy and destiny of distinguished houses. Three groups of these mothers we may distinguish.

First is the group of mortal women who were embraced by some G.o.d, and gave birth to heroic offspring. Tyro met Neptune and brought forth Pelias and Neleus; from the latter sprang Nestor who connects the Pre-Trojan and Trojan ages, since he appears both in the Iliad and Odyssey. In the Third Book of the latter epos we have already seen Nestor sacrificing to his divine ancestor; so the present pa.s.sage has its pertinence to the total poem. In the same group are Antiope and Alemena, the latter of whom was the mother of Hercules, whose father was Zeus. At the end of the present Book, Hercules himself will appear as the supreme example of the Greek Hero.

Such were three typical mothers, famed in h.e.l.lenic legend, being the women who bore Heroes, the offspring of G.o.ds. It was deemed the highest function of the Greek mother to bring forth a Hero, the child of divinity, with an immortal portion. This view, in its purely sensuous aspect, is dubious enough to the modern ethical mind, still its real meaning must be looked at with sympathetic vision, which sees therein the divine descent into mortal flesh, a mythical utterance of the faith that the great man is the son of G.o.d. The Christian view universalizes this conception, holding that all men, and not merely the Heroes, are G.o.d's children. Yet the Christian world has also retained its faith in the Son of G.o.d, son by a mortal woman, which faith the old Greek had too, and expressed in his way. Thus we may extract out of this Homeric account something more than divine license; it has indeed a wonderful pre-Christian suggestiveness, and gives a glimpse of the movement of Universal Religion.

The second group of famous mothers are mortal women with mortal husbands. The wedded wife brings up now the domestic relation, which is pa.s.singly introduced by the spouse of Hercules, Megara, who is simply mentioned. The two chief women of the group are Epicaste and Chloris, the one supremely tragic in her motherhood, the other reasonably happy. Epicaste is mother of OEdipus, who marries her after slaying his own father who is her husband, both deeds being done in ignorance; thus the closest domestic ties are whelmed into guilt and tragedy, whereof Sophocles has made a world-famous use, in his two dramas on the subject of OEdipus.

Chloris is, on the contrary, the mother of Nestor, not a tragic character by any means; also she is mother of Pero, the beautiful maiden, "whom all the people around were wooing," and who was happily won by an heroic deed. Mark the interest of those listeners, Arete and Nausicaa, mother and daughter in this tale.

Thus the two women, Epicaste and Chloris, have opposite destinies, and show the sharp contrasts of life.

In the third group are two mothers who have a double honor; each has borne twins and heroic ones at that; moreover the G.o.ds again enter the domestic relation of mortals. Leda's sons are "Castor the horseman, and Pollux the boxer," the first being mortal, the second immortal, and reputed son of Zeus, who permitted the immortal brother to share his immortality with his mortal brother; hence "every other day they both are alive, and every other day they both are dead." Again the divine gives itself to the human in the spirit of true brotherhood; the son of Zeus takes on the ills of mortality through fraternal love. The second mother of this group is Iphidameia, who declares Neptune to be the father of Otus and Ephialtes, of her monstrous twins, "who at the age of nine years threatened war upon the G.o.ds," and proposed to storm heaven by piling Mount Ossa upon Olympus and Pelion on top of that. Such is the contrast: one set of sons is n.o.ble, worthy, and "receive honor like unto G.o.ds;" the other set is defiant, a.s.sailing the divine order, and are slain by the arrows of Apollo "ere the down blossomed beneath their temples, and covered their chins with tender furze."

_c._ Such, then, is the account of the mothers, the women who have borne children famous in legend. They have taken up nearly the whole of the present catalogue; the wives and maidens now come in for brief mention, forming two groups, three persons to the group.

The poet is impartial, he introduces the faithful woman, Ariadne, and the faithless woman, Eriphyle; in the one case man is the betrayer of woman, and in the other case woman is the betrayer of man. Possibly in Ariadne may be a little hint for Nausicaa, saying, Beware.

But the singer is tired and sleepy; moreover has he not told the essence of the matter in this portion of his song? He at once dismisses any further account of famous women, "wives and daughters of Heroes," whom he saw in Hades. Nausicaa and Arete have had their share, wonderful has been their interest in the struggles and sufferings of their s.e.x; they feel in themselves the possibility of such conflicts. These ideal shapes of the olden time, product of the myth-making Imagination, are types, are the ghosts of Hades which Ulysses must see and know, ere he return to the Upperworld.

II.

We now reach the second main division of the Book, which is marked by the introduction of the audience, the Phaeacians, "who were held rapt with the charm" of the story. Observe, too, that the palace was not brilliantly illuminated, but shadowy--fit environment for fairy tales (line 334). This main division is again separated into two subordinate divisions which embrace the Present and the Past, and thus is in structure h.o.m.ologous with the preceding main division. Yet both the Present and the Past are not now the same as the previous Present and Past.

I. First of the hearers speaks out the mother, wife of Alcinous, Arete, in response to the compliment of Ulysses in singing of the Famous Women of Greek legend. "Phaeacians, how does this man seem to you now in form, stature, and mind?" Very different does he seem from what he once did; thus she gently apologizes for her previous treatment. She appreciates the Hero; moreover, she asks that the high guest receive hospitable gifts without stint; "for much wealth lies in your halls by the bounty of the G.o.ds."

Having thus heard from the woman, we now are to hear from the man, the representative Phaeacian, king Alcinous. In the first portion of the Book Ulysses and his companions were the Present to which the Past appeared in Hades. Now the Phaeacians are introduced as the Present, which is to hear the voice of the Past from Hades. Moreover, the Past is not the Pre-Trojan, but the Trojan Past, which we have already (in the Eighth Book) seen to be dear to the Phaeacian heart. It is no wonder, then, that Alcinous, as soon as he can urge his request, calls for a song about the Greco-Trojan Heroes in the Underworld. "Tell us if thou didst see any of those G.o.dlike Argives who followed thee to Troy and there met their fate." Not the mother of the Hero, but the Hero himself is now to be called up; the man wishes to listen to the deeds of man. Demodocus, the Phaeacian bard, always sung of some phase of the Trojan struggle, which was the popular subject of story and song in Phaeacia. Thus we note again how the famous Past, stored away in Hades, is made to flow into the Present, and to contribute an ideal of heroism, and a warning also, to the living.

A touch of Homer as literary critic we should not pa.s.s by, as he does not often take that part. Alcinous, praising the tale of Ulysses, says: "Form of words is thine, and a n.o.ble meaning, and a mythus, as when a minstrel sings." Three important qualities of poetry are therein set forth: beauty of language, n.o.bleness of content, and the fable in its totality--all of which belong to the preceding narrative. Moreover, Alcinous draws a sharp contrast with that other sort of storytellers, mere liars, "of whom the dark earth feeds many," who go about "fabricating lies, out of which we, looking into them, can get nothing," can draw no meaning. Such at least is our view of this pa.s.sage (line 366) about which there is a difference of opinion among commentators. At any rate we catch a glimpse of Homeric literary criticism in Homer, who states the requirements of good poetry, and contrasts them with the "liar" or fabricator of yarns, which are certainly devoid of the n.o.ble spirit or worthy content.

So Ulysses is asked to begin his Trojan story, always more interesting than that catalogue of women, at which everybody began to yawn. "It is not yet time to go to sleep," cries Alcinous, "the night here is unspeakably long," and still further, "I would hold out till daylight,"

listening to thy story.

II. The Trojan Past, then, is the theme; we are to behold the ghosts of those who were famous during the War at Troy, and immediately afterwards, both men and women. But the women are not here given a special portion to themselves, but are woven into the general narrative. This part of the Book is sung for the men, the opposite s.e.x is withdrawn into the background; still they will be duly mentioned, since the whole conflict is over a woman. Moreover Alcinous wishes to hear what the heroic men are doing in the future world, whither too he must go.

1. Three Greek shades will pa.s.s before us, Agamemnon the Leader, Achilles the Hero, and Ajax the man of strength. We shall find them placed in a certain contrast with Ulysses, who is shown greater than any of the three. All have been overwhelmed by fate through their own folly or weakness, while Ulysses still lives, the master of fate, and beholds them in Hades. Such is his triumph, which the shades themselves declare.

First comes the soul of Agamemnon, the great King, who has the bond of authority in common with King Alcinous. He tells the story of his own murder in considerable detail, which story has been given twice already in the poem. A most impressive event to the Greek mind of Homer's age; the greatest of the rulers is wretchedly cut off from his Return by his wife Clytaemnestra and her paramour aegisthus. This Return is what points the contrast between him and Ulysses; moreover the contrast is also drawn between the wives of the two men, one the faithless and the other the faithful woman. Still the wrong of Agamemnon is suggested by himself: "I heard the piteous voice of Ca.s.sandra, whom Clytaemnestra slew, crying for me; I, though dying, grasped for my sword," to no purpose, however. Surely the wife had her wrongs as well as the husband, out of which double guilt aeschylus will construct his mighty tragedy.

Next after the Leader, in due order comes the Hero of the Greeks before Troy, Achilles. He recognizes this descent to Hades as the greatest deed of Ulysses: "What greater deed, rash man, wilt thou plan next?" It is verily the most wonderful part of his Return, overtopping anything that Achilles did. Still Ulysses pays him the meed of heros.h.i.+p: "We Argives honored thee as a G.o.d, while living, and now thou art powerful among the dead; therefore do not sorrow at thy death, O Achilles." But he answers that he would rather be the humblest day laborer to a poor man than to be King of the Shades. It is not his world, he longs for the realm of heroic action, here he has no vocation. No Troy to be taken, no Hector to be vanquished down in Hades; the heroic man must sigh for the Upper World with its activity. Some consolation he gets from the account which Ulysses gives of his son, who was in the Wooden Horse and distinguished himself at Troy for bravery. Thus the father lives in his son and "strides off delighted through the meadow of asphodel." This plant is usually regarded as the _Asphodelus ramosus_, a kind of lily with an edible tuberous root, still planted, it is said, on graves, to furnish to the dead some food which grows in the earth.

This ancient custom has been supposed to be the source of the legend of its being transplanted to Hades.

The third heroic shade is that of Ajax, son of Telamon, with whom Ulysses had a rivalry, the story of which runs as follows: After the death of Achilles, Thetis his mother offered his arms, the work of Vulcan, to the worthiest of the remaining Greek heroes. The contest lay between Ajax and Ulysses. Agamemnon would not decide, but referred the question to the Trojan prisoners present, asking them which of the two contestants had done them the most injury. They said Ulysses. Whereupon Ajax went crazy and slew himself. Now he appears in Hades, still unreconciled; it is really the most wretched lot of all. Ulysses here speaks the reconciling word, growing tender and imploring; but the hero "answered not, darting away with the other shades into Erebos." Wherein we may well see how much greater in spirit Ulysses was than his big muscular rival. He has reached in this respect the true outcome of life's discipline: to have no revenges, and to speak the word of reconciliation.

In fact the superiority of Ulysses over all these heroes is clearly manifested. He brings no captive woman home to his domestic hearth, and hence he has a right to count upon Penelope's fidelity, though certainly he shows himself no saint in his wanderings. Moreover Agamemnon lacked foresight in his Return, which Ulysses will exhibit in a supreme degree when he first touches his native soil. The second hero, Achilles, could not conquer Troy, then he could not conquer Hades; yet both are conquered by Ulysses who is thus the greater.

Finally unreconciled Ajax--all are limited, incomplete, in contrast with the complete, limit-removing Hero, who has just removed even the limit of Death in the only way possible. Verily to him they have become shadows, that whole heroic world before Troy is now put by him into Hades.

Thus we see that, while the characters belong to the Trojan time, there is a movement out of that period, it is transcended. The background here is the Iliad, yet the incidents are taken from the Trojan war after the action of the Iliad is brought to a close. The fates of the three great heroes of that poem are not given in the poem; here they are given with a tragic emphasis. Thus the Odyssey carries forward the Iliad, supplements it, and forms its real conclusion, both being in fact one poem. In the full blaze of the glory of Achilles the Iliad ends; but he cannot take Troy; and still less, after his death, can Ajax; the divine armor must go to Ulysses who has brain, then can the city be taken. Even the son of Achilles will fight under Ulysses and enter the Trojan Horse, the work of Pallas, of Intelligence. Thus we catch here as in other places, glimpses of the unity of both the Iliad and the Odyssey, the great work reflecting the one national consciousness of h.e.l.las in its complete cycle.

2. We should not fail to cast a separate glance at the three typical women of the Trojan epoch--Helen, Clytemnestra, Penelope--in contrast with the three heroes already described. They are all mentioned and compared in the speech of Agamemnon, but do not form an organic part of the Book by themselves, as do the Pre-Trojan women. They are wives, and wifehood not motherhood, as in the previous case, is the phase of the domestic relation which is the theme of song and struggle in their lives. Possible its present importance is the reason why wifehood was dismissed with so brief mention in the portion concerning the famous mothers.

Note, then, the gradation of the three: Clytemnestra is the fallen unrestored; Helen is the fallen restored; Penelope is the unfallen, who keeps a home for her absent husband during twenty years. The tragic, the mediated, the pure; or, to take a later a.n.a.logy, the infernal, the purgatorial, the paradisaical; such are the three typical female characters of Homer, ranging from guilt, through repentance, to innocence. In this framework lies quite all possible characterization.

Naturally Agamemnon shows a bitter vein of misogyny, with only his wife in view; but he takes it all back when he thinks of Penelope.

Two of these women, Helen and Penelope, are still alive and do not belong to the realm of Hades; the ghost of the third, Clytemnestra, does not appear. Still all three are mentioned here in the text, and stand in relation to the three Greco-Trojan heroes, none of whom were restored through the Return. Ulysses, however, is the real solution of them all; he spans all their inadequacies, masters their fates, and reaches home. The three Greek heroes above mentioned fell by the way in the course of the grand problem, and are seen in Hades, complaining, unhappy, showing their full limitation. To a degree they are suffering the penalty of their own shortcomings: which fact prepares us for the third and last phase of the Underworld.

III.

We now come to a new division of the Book, which forms in itself a complete little poem, yet is derived directly from the preceding divisions, and is harmonious with them in thought, development and structure. Undoubtedly there is a difference here, but the difference means not absolute separation but a connected unfolding of parts. The present division has been a.s.sailed more violently by the critics and torn out of its place with greater unanimity than any other portion of the Odyssey, with the possible exception of portions of the last two Books. Let us confess, however, that our tendency is to reconcile, if this can be done, the discords and to knit together the rent garment, by threads not always on the surface, but very real to any eye which is willing to look underneath.

Unquestionably a punitive element enters now, there is guilt and punishment in Hades. But who has not felt that in the preceding division the three Greek heroes were under the inevitable penalty of their own deeds? Very natural is the transition. Indeed the three divisions of the Book show a gradual movement toward a penal view of Hades: the first (Tiresias and the Famous Mothers) has a slight suggestion of the penalty; the second (the three Greek heroes) has the idea of punishment implicit everywhere; the third makes the idea explicit and organizes itself upon the same.

Again, there is a change of style, which now is strongly tinged with the Orphic, initiatory, symbolical manner, in marked contrast with the clear-flowing narrative which has just preceded. But we noticed the same characteristic before, in the first division of the Book, where the sacrificial rites and the part of Tiresias were given. Homer has many styles, not each style has many Homers, nor is there a new Homer needed for each change of style. Note the great varieties of style in the two Parts of Faust by way of ill.u.s.tration. Moreover we here pa.s.s into the dim Pre-Trojan epoch, as was the case in the first division, but guilt is now flung into that time and with it the penalty. h.o.a.ry, gigantic shapes of eld do wrong to the G.o.ds, and are put into the punitory Hades. Thus this third division returns to the first with its own new principle. In truth one may say that Homer herein shows features akin to Hesiod; well, Homer is Hesiod and many more.

We hold, therefore, that this third division is an organic part of the Book both in idea and structure; it carries to completion the thought of a world-justice, which Tiresias has already declared in his speech to Ulysses, and which is exemplified in the three Greek heroes. Thus it unfolds what lies in the first two divisions, and links them together in a new and deeper thought. For this realm of Hades, hitherto a distracted spot without any apparent order, now gets organized with its own Justiciary and its own Law. Yet here too we shall find a solution and a parallel; just as Ulysses was the true hero at Troy, standing above all the others and solving their problems, so Hercules is the great Pre-Trojan hero, saving himself at last and rising to Olympus.

Finally the two careers of Ulysses and Hercules are affirmed to be identical. This division, therefore, falls of itself into three portions: (1) the Judge, (2) the condemned, (3) the redeemed. Thus the whole forms a complete little cycle within itself.

1. Minos, the Judge, was the ancient king of Crete, where he was lawgiver and suppressed wrong-doing on sea and land. Here he continues his vocation, which demands the a.s.signing of the just penalty to the guilty. He is manifestly the type of Justice, both punis.h.i.+ng and rewarding; as punisher he has been transferred by Dante to the Inferno.

Later Greek legend united with him two other judges, his brothers, Rhadamanthys and aeacus.

2. We have next four instances of punishment, though this is apparently of different degrees. The wrong, however, is not stated except in the case of t.i.tyos, which probably hints the general nature of the misdeeds of the three others. The poet takes for granted that his hearer could fill out each legend for himself. In every case there was evidently some violation done to the G.o.ds, not to men--some crime against Olympus. The period is thrown back into the Pre-Trojan time, into the age of the demiG.o.ds and of the free intercourse between mortals and immortals; thus it is parallel with the first division of the Book. But now judgment has entered the Houses of Hades along with the penalty.

The guilt of Orion is that of love between a mortal and a G.o.ddess, Aurora, which violation was punished by the "soft bolts" of Artemis, protectress of chast.i.ty. This legend has already been alluded to by Calypso. (Book V. line 121.) Jealous are the G.o.ds of that mortal man with whom a G.o.ddess falls in love, and with good reason. Orion's punishment is an eternal chase, the hunter is compelled to hunt forever, repeating what he did in life. Perhaps not a heavy punishment for one who is fond of hunting; yet a tremendous burden, if never interrupted with rest; indeed it becomes a labor quite like the labor of Sisyphus, ever repeated. Of t.i.tyos both the guilt and punishment are indicated; the legend is similar to and yet in contrast with that of Orion; in the one the G.o.ddess approaches the mortal and in the other the mortal approaches the G.o.ddess; hence, too, the severer punishment in the latter case. The second legend ought to be completed here by a fact derived from the story of Prometheus: the liver grows as fast as the vultures rend or consume it; thus again rises the idea of infinite repet.i.tion, now of suffering, not of action, for Orion is active.

The next two forms, Tantalus and Sisyphus, have also a kins.h.i.+p. Both had known secrets of the G.o.ds and had betrayed them; Tantalus is also reported to have taken away nectar and ambrosia from the Olympian table after being a guest there; Sisyphus revealed to the river-G.o.d Asopus the secret that Zeus had spirited away the latter's daughter, aegina.

The penalty is that Tantalus remains perpetually hungry and thirsty, with sight of food and drink always before his eyes; he cannot reach them when he strives. The finite, with an infinite longing, cannot compa.s.s the infinite; the man loses it just when he grasps for it--a truly Greek penalty for a sin against the Greek world, which rests upon the happy harmonious unity of the spirit with the body and with nature.

The Christian or Romantic longing and grasping for the Beyond is to the Greek soul a punishment of Hades. Tantalus with his hunger and thirst seems to represent more the striving of the intellect to attain the unattainable; while Sisyphus suggests the effort of the will--practical endeavor, the eternal routine of mechanical employment, which always has to begin over again. Etymology brings also a suggestion. Both names are reduplicated; in Tantalus is the root of the word which means to suffer; in Sisyphus, lurks the signification of craft; it hints the wise or crafty planner (_sophos_) who always pushes the act to a point where it undoes itself or must be done over again. Note the effect of this reduplication of the first syllables, which means repet.i.tion; over and over again, in an infinite series must the matter be gone through, in suffering and in doing; the very words are in labor.

Indeed this indicates the common element in these four punishments: the endless repet.i.tion of the struggle of finitude. The first two, Orion and t.i.tyos, reached out for G.o.ddesses, being mortals; the second two, still mortals, but in communion with deities, attempted to bring down divine secrets to earth; the one set strove to make the finite infinite, the other to make the infinite finite. Both were contrary to the nature of the Greek mind, which sought to keep the happy balance between the two sides, between body and spirit, between the temporal and eternal. Now the punishment of these people is to give them their infinite, but in the form of an infinite repet.i.tion of their finite act, which is just the spirit-crus.h.i.+ng penalty. The power of these two types, Tantalus and Sisyphus, is shown by the fact that all ages since Homer have adopted them and wrought them over into many forms of art and poetry.

Here then is the unsolved problem of the Greek world, a problem which the Christian world has met and answered. Tantalus and Sisyphus are in pain and toil simply through themselves; man, however, must have the power to reach the apples, and roll the stone up hill, he must a.s.sert himself as limit-transcending, as infinite, for once and for all, and not caught in an infinite series, which is a veritable mill of the G.o.ds, that is, of the Greek G.o.ds. Now this strange fact comes to light: Homer, seer that he is, has a dim consciousness of this solution, and faintly but prophetically embodies it in a new figure, namely, that of Hercules, which we shall now consider.

3. The Homeric solution is to divide the man, or to double him, into his shade (eidolon) and his self. The former belongs to Hades and appears now; it is the finite Hercules with his striving and labors; he still has his bow and arrow, is ready to slay beasts, snakes, and birds. He is in quite the same punishment as Orion or even Sisyphus, the penalty of all finitude is upon him. Yet the other side is given, that of victory. "I, though the son of the highest G.o.d, Zeus, had to endure boundless tribulation." Strangely Christian does this sound. "I was put under service to a far inferior man to myself, who laid upon me bitter labors." The higher must serve and save the lower. "Then the mightiest labor I performed, I came down hither to Hades alive and dragged thence the dog Cerberus"--conquered the great terror of the Underworld. Thus Hercules has really transcended Hades, and so we read here that "he himself is among the immortal G.o.ds, in bliss," that is, his infinite nature is there, while the finite part is still below in Hades. Such is the old poet's far-cast glance, reaching deep into the future and beyond the Greek world.

Still another significant word is spoken. "O Ulysses, unhappy man! Thou dost experience the same hard fate which I endured upon the earth."

Thus does Hercules identify the career of Ulysses with his own--the same striving and suffering, and the same final victory, the peace of Olympus. Who cannot attain the latter is a Tantalus, seeking but never reaching the fruit. Such is the outcome and culmination of Hades; after Hercules has spoken, no further word is heard by Ulysses.

Dante, whose poem on so many lines grows out of this Eleventh Book, has also the same duplication of the person in his Paradise. The soul is in its special planet, Venus, Mars, etc., and also it is in the highest Heaven, enjoying the Vision of G.o.d. But Dante universalizes the Greek view, making it truly Christian; all men are children of G.o.d and can attain the seats of the Blessed, not merely the one man, the Hero Hercules. Still even here the inference is that Ulysses must also be transferred to Olympus, though no such declaration is made.

We hope the reader feels how inadequate Hades would be, and how incomplete the experience of Ulysses would be, if this last division of the Book were cut out. The wanderer has now gone through the total cycle of the Underworld, not only outwardly, but inwardly; he is just ready to step out of it, because he is beyond it in spirit. This last step is now to be given in Homeric fas.h.i.+on.

There is a danger at present rising strongly into consciousness, a danger inherent in this too-long contemplation of Hades; it is the danger of the Gorgon, the monster whose view turns the spectator into stone, taking away all sensation, emotion, life. The Greek sooner or later must quit Hades, and flee from its shapes; the supersensible world he must transfuse into the sensible, else the former will rush over into the fantastic, the horrible, the ugly. The Gorgon is down in Hades too, having been slain in the terrestrial Upperworld by a Greek Hero, Perseus, who slew the monster of the Orient which once guarded the fair Andromeda, a kind of Pre-Trojan Helen, chained in captivity, whom the heroic h.e.l.lenic soul came to release. Ulysses has now reached the Greek limit, Oriental phantasms will rise unless there be a speedy return to the reality, to the realm of sense. Hades has furnished its highest image in Hercules, beware of its worst. Already the Underworld has been in danger of running into the fantastic; then Beauty, the h.e.l.lenic ideal, would be lost. The figures of Homeric Hades. .h.i.therto have all been men and women, but the monsters are ready to come forth.

So they did come forth in the later Greek world under the spur of Oriental influence; witness the Revelations of St. John in the Island of Patmos, joint product of Greek and Hebrew spirit, showing truly the dissolution of the h.e.l.lenic ideal.

Thus Ulysses, the supreme spiritual Hero of the Greeks, is shown running away from the Underworld, fearing to look upon coming shapes in Hades; about which fact two reflections can be made: first, Ulysses had to do this in order to remain a Greek; secondly, the poet clearly announces, in such an action, that there is another world lying beyond his world, that underneath the Greek Hades is another Hades, which threatens to rise into view. That Hades will burst up hereafter and become the Christian h.e.l.l. Ulysses confesses that there is a realm beyond him there, which he has not conquered, has not even dared to see, and thus he significantly points to the future. The Gorgon is a shadowy antic.i.p.ation of fiends, of devils, of the infernal monsters of the Romantic Netherworld of Dante, who is to be the next great Hero, pa.s.sing into the dark world beyond with a new light. To be sure, Virgil sends aeneas into Orcus, and makes such descent a Book of his poem, but Virgil too speaks of a realm beyond his Orcus, which his Hero does not enter. Thus the Roman poet shows substantially the same limits as the Greek poet, whom he has for the most part copied.

Here again we find a conception embodied in song, on which the human mind has moved through many ages. Poetry, Art, Theology, have taken from this Eleventh Book of the Odyssey many creative hints: it is truly an epoch-making work in the history of man's spiritual unfolding. As already stated, Virgil repeats it, Dante grows out of it and makes it over, in accord with the spirit of Christendom, which has many a root running back to this Homeric Hades. The present Book may be called the Greek prophecy heralding medieval Art, and shows old Homer foreshadowing Romanticism. Did he not see the limits of his world? The particular connecting link between two Literary Bibles, Homer and Dante, is just the present Book, even if Dante never read Homer. For the study of Universal Literature it is, therefore, a specially important doc.u.ment. A many-sided production also; its poetic, its religious, its artistic, its philosophical sides are all present in full activity and put to test the spiritual alertness of the reader.