quand_il_pleut's Journal

Katherine Preston
950 50 8483
COLT 101 Fall '05
Final Paper

Docile Women, Happy Homes:
Gender, Privilege and Power in The Odyssey

For thousands of years, the so-called civilized world has been built on the backs of men: their bloodied battles, their diplomatic conquests, and their authoritative rule. Conversely, women have frequently been characterized as the downfall of civilizations: Jezebel, the false prophetess, who brings the royal house of Israel to its knees; Eve, whose temptation by the serpent induces man’s “fall from grace”; and Helen, whose manipulation by Aphrodite causes the slaughter of hundreds of thousands of Greeks and Trojans. Patriarchal culture depends on this demonization of feminine power and authority in order to continue its lengthy rule--as Andrea Dworkin once said, it’s not as if there’s any shortage of kitchen knives, i.e., there is no innate reason that patriarchal authority need remain absolute. Thus, in patriarchal societies, the roles of women and men are constructed in normative narratives, folklore and myth, in order to justify one type of power (patriarchal), while condemning another (matriarchal/feminine). Epic poetry, the genre which tells the story of a society’s “great hero”, is a genre particularly suited to creating and reinforcing such norms because it frequently identifies the foundation of a culture’s framework in the form of important master narratives. Homer’s Odyssey is no exception to this general rule. In The Odyssey, women’s roles are sharply split between those women whose aim it is to destroy homes and families and those who embody the feminine ideal of (the) docile wife, a dichotomy which is often exemplified through a demonization of feminine power. This is aptly demonstrated by The Odyssey in three main ways: the construction of women’s power as destructive, the powerful cautionary tales against abandoning patriarchal authority, and the portrayal of women’s place.

Circe is one of the primary figures of seductive, unnatural feminine power. The sorceress uses her “beguiling voice” to lure Odysseus’s men to her table, despite the concerns of Eurylokhos, who suspects foul play. (X.244) Circe then betrays social norms of hospitality by poisoning their wine in order to make them forget their homes and families. (X.259-261) Circe is more than merely a bad hostess, however. Her power is coercive, as she magicks the men into swine and shuts them in a pigsty (X.262-265), underscoring the extent to which we are meant to view Circe’s power as unnatural: men are changed from their natural position into lowly pigs, where they squeal unbecomingly and feed on acorns instead of cheese and honey. (X.266-268) Further, Circe’s power is sexualized and seductive. Upon Odysseus’s arrival, Circe sets out to poison Odysseus and work her magic on him as well, not knowing that Hermes has given Odysseus a magically protective plant. (X.341-342) Realizing Odysseus’s supernatural protection, Circe attempts to use her womanly wiles to manipulate Odysseus, saying: “Put up your weapon in the sheath. We two/shall mingle and make love upon our bed./So mutual trust may come of play and love.” (X.374-376) But Odysseus sees her plea for affection as a shameless power grab, fearing that she will castrate him if they are intimate. (X. 382-384) Here, Circe’s authority is manipulative and unnatural, but undoubtedly coded as feminine, because Circe uses her seductive, magical powers to gain leverage over the men around her. Additionally, Circe’s betrayal of social norms of hospitality capitalizes upon her power being outside of the realm of acceptability.

Another dominant female sexual figure can be seen in Calypso, who lives alone, sovereign of her own island. Yet, her beauty and courtesy towards Odysseus are seen as dangerous and unnatural, as Odysseus says: “The dangerous nymph/Kalypso lives and sings there, in her beauty,/and she received me”. (XII.573-575) Indeed, Odysseus is received by Calypso on the island of Ogygia, where he lives in comfort with the goddess. This comfort, however, is a sort of gilded cage: for all Odysseus is treasured and treated well by Calypso, she denies him the ability to leave her island. Though Calypso, unlike Circe before her, adheres to the norms of hospitality, the very fact that she holds power over Odysseus is enough to hold her in contempt of traditional gender roles. In fact, the gods condemn her behavior, and send Hermes to force Calypso to free her captive. As Calypso proclaims: “Oh you vile gods, in jealousy supernal!/You hate it when we choose to lie with men--/immortal flesh by some dear mortal side.” (V.124-126) In this case, Calypso is forced to abide by the rules set in place by Zeus, giving up her dominant position over Odysseus and freeing him to go home to his wife, demonstrating the extent to which female authority, even ostensibly benign female authority, is condemned by patriarchal figures.

In book XII, Odysseus and his crew encounter three more dangerous female figures: the Sirens, Scylla, and Charybdis. The Sirens offer a view of female sexual power as primarily destructive. The Sirens “cry beauty” to “bewitch men coasting by” (XII.49-50), using their powers to make men forget the homes they sail towards. However, the power of these women, whose beauty and melody is compelling, rests entirely on their ability to coerce men to come closer so that they can kill them and prey on their flesh. As Circe cautions: “There are bones/of dead men rotting in a pile beside them/and flayed skins shrivel around the spot.” (XII.54-56) In this example, the Sirens typify the prototypical “woman as temptress”, where femininity is destructive and sexualized. After passing safely by the island of the Sirens, Odysseus is faced with the joint evils of Scylla and Charybdis, two female sea monsters whose forces he must escape. Scylla initially invokes the same theme of deceptive weakness in order to fool passing sailors: though Scylla’s form is overtly threatening, “she yaps/abominably, a newborn whelp’s cry,/though she is huge and monstrous.” (XII.103-105) Scylla’s ability to snatch sailors from passing ships invokes another powerful figure in Greek mythology, whose power is similarly destructive. Scylla’s long tentacles are described as snakes--“upon her serpent necks/are borne six heads like nightmares of ferocity…”(XII.108-109)--which echoes the association between snakes and destructive female power seen in Medusa the Gorgon. Charybdis, the second of the two sea monsters Odysseus must face, invokes powerful imagery in several parts. On the cliff above Charybdis’s lair, a “great wild fig” grows (XII.121-122). Symbolically, this has great meaning for what we are meant to infer about Charybdis’s power. The fig is a tree whose flowers are very small and difficult to see, causing many earlier societies to believe that the fig was a blossomless tree. (“Fig”, N.pg.) Flowers, typically associated with the delicate and/or nurturing qualities of femininity, are lacking from the bush which hangs above the den of a female sea monster, obviously connoting that the femaleness of Charybdis is lacking in beautiful, typically “feminine” qualities. Further, Charybdis takes form as a bottomless whirlpool (XII.125-127), which invokes powerful vaginal imagery, and further characterizes feminine power (particularly sexual power) as inherently destructive, destroying the work and livelihoods of men.

Women are strongly indicted by other tales within The Odyssey, particularly tales about women betraying their place in the home. Helen is one of the primary figures of betrayal in this sense, as, historically, she left her husband and child when she was seduced by a handsome young Trojan prince, at the behest of Aphrodite. In book IV, we are presented with two additional stories of Helen’s betrayal. First, Helen, trying to redeem herself in the eyes of Telemachus, their guest, identifies how she recognized Odysseus in Troy, who was dressed as a servant. (IV.258-280) Here, Helen expresses regret for her past actions, saying:

I repented
the mad day that Aphrodite
drew me away from my dear fatherland
forsaking all--child, bridal bed, and husband--
a man without defect in form or mind.

Pertly, her husband brings up Helen’s dangerous act which almost brought the Greek offense to its knees: Helen walked slowly around the Trojan horse, calling the soldiers by name and trying to imitate the voices of their wives, tempting them. (IV.299-305) This act draws the reader’s attention to how devious, and how purposeful, Helen’s betrayal was. Helen is an important cautionary figure for women: Helen betrays her husband, only to be brought back to the home she’d left and made to stay under the authority of her husband. Said to be the most beautiful woman ever to live, Helen is a preternatural symbol of femininity as temptation--and when she is drawn half a world away by Paris, the lore about her being bewitched by Aphrodite’s hand gives the following war a sense of fatedness: what else could one expect, from someone as beautiful as Helen? Later, upon hearing the story of Clytemnestra‘s betrayal, Odysseus laments women‘s inability to be faithful, saying: “Myriads/died by Helen’s fault, and Clytemnestra/ plotted against you half the world away.” (XI.510-512) Indeed, Clytemnestra is another story whose tale is meant to caution those who read it against the power of women over the husbands who love them. The ghost of Agamemnon tells the tale of the slaughter in his palace, and how he tried, while dying at the hand of his wife, to prevent the death of the cursed prophetess, Cassandra. (XI.476-494) What is most emphasized in this tale is the despicable nature of Clytemnestra’s betrayal: Agamemnon angrily laments: “There is no being more fell/more bestial than a wife in such an action.” When Menelaus mourns the death of his brother, he says he was “tricked blind, caught in the web of his deadly queen.” (IV.99) Menelaus’s reference to Clytemnestra’s trickery and web of deceit, while not a direct indictment of women, points to her deceit as ultimately more harmful than the betrayal he suffered at the hands of Helen. In fact, Agamemnon directly relates Clytemnestra’s betrayal to her gender: “that woman/plotting a thing so low, defiled herself/and all her sex, all women yet to come/even those few who may be virtuous.” (XI.501-504) Odysseus then asserts that women are living proof of Zeus’s hatred for men. (XI.507-509) Here, an important message is sent: that women’s virtue is rare, and, given the chance, women will betray their husbands and homes in order to advance their own cause. Further, the betrayal of husband and home is a direct assault on the woman’s character, regardless of her reasons for doing so. That is, if a woman repudiates her husband’s authority, she is reaffirming her inability to do good, and acting in a way expected of her lowly, female nature.

These examples ask the question as to what types of behavior are acceptable for women. In fact, there are three female figures who are compatible with patriarchal authority: Penelope, Arete, and Athena. Penelope in many ways typifies the type of wife most favored in Greek society. Even when pressured to take a new husband after twenty years, Penelope remains faithful to Odysseus, deceiving the suitors only in order to continue in fidelity to Odysseus. As the angry suitor, Antinous, points out, Penelope’s cunning is a good match for Odysseus, (II.124-127) but Penelope only ever uses her wits in support of her husband. So, too, does Arete exist to serve her husband in the palace of the Phaeacians, following his orders without delay. (VIII.461-463) More perplexing, though, is the figure of Athena. Athena frequently presents herself as a man (Mentor/Mentes) in order to do her work with mortals. A virgin, she is desexualized, and does not depend on her femininity to achieve her goals. However, by the end of book XXIV, it is clear that Athena’s authority is dependent on one factor, and one factor only: her status as the favorite daughter of Zeus. Throughout the epic, Athena is introduced as “the grey-eyed daughter of Zeus”, as if the poet, while telling the story of The Odyssey, is reminding us that Athena has authority because of her relationship to her father. At the close of the epic, Odysseus is caught in the heat of battle when Athena calls for an end, crying “Break off this bitter skirmish;/end your bloodshed, Ithakans, and make peace.” (XXIV.593-994) Every soldier drops their swords, but Odysseus, seeing an oncoming attack from the villagers, “reared himself to follow--/at which the son of Kronos dropped a thunderbolt/smoking at his daughter’s feet.” This action is particularly important, as Odysseus begins to defy Athena’s commands while engaging in battle, and her only way to regain her position of authority over Odysseus, is to call upon the power of a higher patriarch: Zeus, king of the gods.

In this sense, The Odyssey lays the foundations for patriarchal society. First, female power is constructed as seductive and destructive, luring men away from their natural purposes. This is illustrated by Circe’s sorcery, which domesticates men as swine and depends on the trickery in her false offers of hospitality. Calypso, the dangerous nymph, holds Odysseus against his will, warning against allowing women to control the home. In addition, we can see the demonization of female power in the monstrous nature of the Sirens, who tempt men to their island where they are then slaughtered; in the bloodthirstiness of Scylla, who invokes the image of Medusa, and tangles men in her many serpentine grips; and in the maelstrom Charybdis, who symbolizes the destructive power of female sexuality as she sucks sailors into her bottomless abyss. Additionally, The Odyssey relies on cautionary tales of betraying the comfortable patriarchy of husband and home, by criticizing the actions of two unfaithful wives: Helen and Clytemnestra. Finally, in the examples of Penelope, Arete, and Athena, we see that the only acceptable usage of female power in patriarchal culture is that which coincides with the interests of men without radically challenging the authority of the men in power. Thus, a sharp dichotomy is presented between those women who are subservient “good wives” and those who cause reckless bloodshed and destruction, a contrast which rests upon a portrayal of feminine power as necessarily harmful.

Works Cited
“Fig.” Wikipedia: The Online Encyclopedia. N.d. < http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fig > Accessed: 5 Dec. 2005.
Homer. The Odyssey. Trans. Robert Fitzgerald. New York: Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 1998

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