From our English readings of Book I to X and our Greek translations of portions of Book X and XI, I think it is safe to say that Odysseus is the epitome of what human rationality should aspire to, at least by ancient Greek/Homeric standards. While his men cower in ignorance, he tends to them like an ill-befated shepherd. His close ties with Athena only further back this, since she helps him out in so many ways (one can lose count easily).
However, in our weekend reading (IX, X), I found two instances where Odysseus does not live up to the ideal rationality that we have come to associate with him. These cases are when [1] Odysseus taunts the Cyclops after they have fled into the ships (IX pg. 150, lines 491-512) and [2] when he almost slays Eurylochos when the man tells them not to go back to Circe’s home (X pg. 163, lines 431-442).
[1] After Odysseus has brilliantly tricked the Cyclops into thinking that his assailant is “Nobody” and has safely brought the rest of his men out of the cave and to the ships, Odysseus calls out to the monster once, which results in them having a rock thrown at them and bringing them onto the shore. Then, when safely upon the ocean again, he begins to call out to the monster again, to which his men try and reason with him not to do so. This action is almost ironic; he has gotten away by trickery, now why is he trying to blow it all away? Is it Odysseus’s own desire for acknowledgement that makes him call out his name to the Cyclops? Was this implicitly driven out of him by a God/the fates (meaning not acknowledged by the author/narrator), seeing that it was his fate to have a terribly long voyage home? Or would the Cyclops have found out some other way later on, such as from his father? Basically, was this a necessary plot device, or Homer trying to humanize Odysseus (in the sense of making him seem more mortal with human faults)?
[2] Now Odysseus knows that he has placated Circe according to Hermes’s rules, but poor Eurylochos has experienced the terror (by proxy) of the companions he went with to get the scoop on Circe’s abode; only he is able to sense the treachery that was brewing and he was the necessary plot device vessel to bring the message to Odysseus (in that respect, he is almost like a lesser version of Odysseus himself). Now Odysseus could have left the other men and sailed on (as a commander, it was up to him to decide to either leave no man behind or to be mindful of the saftey of those he had left–a tough decision, indeed), but he went to investigate. Now it isn’t very certain from our standpoint whether he went more for saving the men or to more for the act of gathering information for himself (as we have pointed out in class, it is his characteristic design to do so); it is ambigious to which weighs more on his mind (though he only remembers to ask for his companions after he has bedded Circe, now that I think about it). But when he gets permission to bring the rest of the men to her house, Eurylochos protests and Odysseus has to be restrained from killing the man. Though Odysseus says he has placated Circe, how is Eurylochos to know that she won’t do something worse? How are any of them to know if Odysseus’s commands are not merely leading them to an early grave? (we know that it isn’t his fault, but I don’t think we should include ourselves in this reasoning, since we aren’t the characters). It is at this point, I feel Odysseus is being irrational toward the situation (why not use his “snow falling on the ground” words to convince the man?); mayhaps Odysseus has been bewitched by Circe already (they end up piddering around there for a year, for Pete’s sake).
Now my point is to ask whether these small moments of irrationality are there merely for plot movement (to get the Cyclops to know his name, etc.), or is there some underlying point (such as to point out that even the most rational men to aspire after have their own less-than-shining moments).
Or am I making things that are actually rational (Homerically) to be irrational in my own 21st-century mind?
Well-done, Midori!! These moments of irrationality seem to stem from the impulses of the Homeric hero–glory, honor, circulation of one’s name. In the second example, though, it is worth noting that Od.’s anger was, in fact, stayed. Eurylochos should surely seem to us to be a cowardly figure who is teetering on insubordination at best; it is interesting to note that his patience (literally, his capacity to endure) at this moment is stretched by the cowardice (rather than, say, the recklessness) of one of his men.