The Social and Narrative Functions of Telemachus in the Odyssey

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Master’s Thesis

Presented to

The Faculty of the Graduate School of Arts and Sciences Brandeis University Graduate Program in Ancient Greek and Roman Studies Dr. Joel Christensen, Advisor

In Partial Fulfillment of the Requirements for the Degree

Master of Arts in Ancient Greek and Roman Studies

by Zachary B. Elliott

May 2018

Zachary B. Elliott

Acknowledgements

This thesis would not exist were it not for the kindness, commitment, and generosity of those who supported me throughout its production. My advisor, Dr. Joel Christensen, saw the project through its nascent and amorphous stages in a course on the Odyssey to its completion as an MA thesis. He receives my greatest thanks for his, seemingly, endless patience and dedicated mentorship as he showed me what it means to be a scholar and a colleague. My readers, Dr. Ann

Olga Koloski-Ostrow and Dr. Cheryl Walker, gave thoughtful comments and enjoyable conversation toward the final stages of the thesis, and both have served as exceptional teachers during my time in the MA program. I give my gratitude also to Dr. Andrew Koh for providing early support in the program, to Dr. Patricia Johnston for improving my Latin, and to Dr. Alex

Ratzlaff for being a constant pillar of support and encouragement.

I thank my graduate student colleagues for creating an environment of camaraderie and collegiality which has made my two years in the program remarkable on a personal and professional level. In particular, I thank my fellow Graduate Department Representatives during my time at Brandeis, Jim Martin, Erin Brantmayer, and Anna Krohn, who gave their time and dedication to making the program better. Angela Hurley, Will Callif, Ruthie Portes, Kathryn

Joseph, Evan McDuff, and Matthew Previtto each participated in conversations that made this thesis better.

I must also thank those who made my study of Classics possible; Dr. Ralph Smith, John

Karras, and Dr. Holly Haynes were unflagging mentors who showed me that I can and should pursue my academic goals. Molly Cowan has supported me at every point of my journey with unsurpassable compassion, patience, and grace, and I cannot thank her enough.

iii

ABSTRACT

The Social and Narrative Functions of Telemachus in the Odyssey

A thesis presented to the Graduate Program in Ancient Greek and Roman Studies

Graduate School of Arts and Sciences Brandeis University Waltham, Massachusetts

By Zachary B. Elliott

The character of Telemachus occupies a place of great significance in the plot of the

Odyssey. In addition to being a figure whose development the audience observes for four books of the poem before the introduction of the epic's main character, he returns in the final books of the poem to participate in the resolution of the plot alongside his father. His plot in the narrative is inextricably tied to his need to navigate his social world about which he learns through his travels and interactions with other characters. In this thesis, I examine how the Odyssey presents the way in which Telemachus fulfills social and cultural roles within the poem and how it uses his performance of those roles to create and reinforce a model of the proper performance in a society that no longer supports the structures of the heroic age. I argue that these roles do not end at those which Telemachus overtly takes over the course of the narrative; instead, he extends into the position of a reader, or auditor, of epic poetry, especially in the context of his reception of and engagement with the narrative of Orestes, and the poem encourages the audience to evaluate how effectively Telemachus participates in the tradition of which they are currently a part. I

iv further explore the evidence of how later texts present the character of Telemachus to see to what extent these authors engage with the problems of his socio-cultural place in the Odyssey.

TABLE OF CONTENTS

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS ...... iii

ABSTRACT ...... iv

TABLE OF CONTENTS ...... vi

INTRODUCTION ...... 1

CHAPTER 1: THE SOCIAL POSITIONS OF TELEMACHUS ...... 10

CHAPTER 2: TELEMACHUS AND PARABOLIC NARRATIVES OF ORESTES ...... 32

CHAPTER 3: TELEMACHUS AFTER THE ODYSSEY ...... 50

BIBLIOGRAPHY ...... 65

Introduction

The Odyssey, in addition to being a poem about a “complicated man,” as Emily Wilson positions Odysseus at the start of her translation, is a complicated poem.1 It defies simple categorization by theme and has provided a fruitful ground for interpretation since antiquity.

While it is certainly a story about Odysseus’ journey to Ithaca and his reunion with his wife through the destruction of the suitors who have been attempting to woo her, the poem deals with larger and more general issues of the way in which society functions. Consistently, the narrative confronts its internal and external audiences with characters who figure differently into the complex world of the epic through their performance of various social roles and encourages them to engage with how the models provided by those characters represent effective or ineffective examples for the proper fulfillment of those roles.

While the majority of the poem focuses on the titular hero of the epic, his trouble-filled journey home, and his triumphant restoration to power and prominence in Ithaca, the first four books of the poem, the Telemachy, deal with the development of Odysseus’ son, Telemachus, as he attempts both to learn whether or not his father is alive and to discover how he can deal with the suitors who have overrun his house and are consuming his wealth. Just as the epic as a whole is deeply concerned with social structures, the Telemachy lays the framework for these themes and begins the process of engaging with them. The character of Telemachus, then, plays a pivotal role in defining the epic's central themes. The emphasized position of his educative journey and his transition from a self-described infant (νήπιος, Od. 2.313) to a figure on the cusp of

1 Wilson (2018): 105.

adulthood encourages the audience to consider how he develops in his performance of the roles which he undertakes.

The link between the education and growth of Telemachus and the poem’s own function as an educational text makes Telemachus necessarily a metapoetic figure.2 The audience observes as he learns through his experience how to function in his society and learns from their observations how they themselves ought to perform these roles. This metapoetic function is heightened by the shared position of Telemachus and the audience of the poem; both are outside the heroic age which Homeric poetry presents. Just as Telemachus must go through a process different from that of those in his father’s generation to obtain kleos, the audience cannot access those traditional models and can look to Telemachus to better understand how to, or not to, cope with this position.

The questions and problems raised by the content and function of the Telemachy have led modern interpreters to understand the place of the first four books of the poem differently. One tradition, following the Analysts, reads the Telemachy as produced by a different poet than that of the rest of the poem and separate its content from the rest of the poem, which they view as composed by an individual master. The other tradition of scholarship treats the text as a whole and reads the Telemachy in the context of the rest of the poem.3

Despite Analyst arguments that Homeric characters do not undergo development, the audience patently sees Telemachus’ move from a youth lacking confidence through burgeoning masculinity to an active participant in the slaughter of the suitors and a force of moral guidance for Odysseus.4 The characterization of Telemachus has important ideological implications for

2 Martin (1993) remarks that Telemachus and, indeed, the Odyssey as a whole are highly metapoetic. This thesis builds on his ideas and attempts to specify how and in what contexts Telemachus functions metapoetically throughout the text. 3 For a more complete overview of this division, see Martin (1993): 223. 4 For a detailed summary of scholarship on the development of Telemachus from the perspective of both Unitarians

understanding his narrative function and that of the characters with whom he interacts. Indeed, this goes beyond those characters whose presence in the epic are necessitated by the plot of the

Telemachy, such as Nestor, Menelaus, and Helen. Telemachus serves a foil for the character with whom he interacts throughout the epic; the narrative presents oppositions between Telemachus and the suitors, particularly, and also Odysseus and Penelope to define each character.

The prominent position and length of the Telemachy at the start of the poem bolster the importance of Telemachus’ characterization for interpretation of the thematic content of the epic.5 By introducing Telemachus and his journey early in the poem, the Homeric narrator invites the audience to identify and internalize the societal order presented through his interactions and to employ them later in the poem. Telemachus, then, is significant for more than simply understanding a relatively minor character and portion of the poem; rather, the ethical evaluation of Telemachus permeates the poem, both informing and defining the other figures.

Despite Telemachus’ prominence in the epic, most studies of his character have focused on individual aspects of his function in the epic rather than taking a more comprehensive approach to understanding how he fits into the text. Scott provides an early and brief argument against the Analyst tradition by showing how the Telemachy, primarily through the growth and development of Telemachus’ character, relates to the rest of the Odyssey.6 Clarke and Rose go into deeper detail in their analyses of the function of the Telemachy within the cultural goals of the epic, while Bertman focuses more narrowly on the structure of the Telemachy to argue that it

and Analysts, see Austin (1969): 45–46 and Katz (1991): 31–33. 5 Katz (1991) has demonstrated the importance of this section of the epic in establishing and understanding interrelations between characters. Barker and Christensen (2016) detail how the Telemachy presents the performing of stories of nostoi in the Odyssey to separate the nostos of Odysseus as a privileged narrative. 6 Scott (1918): 420–428. Austin (1969) builds on this study with a more thorough analysis of each scene.

is an integral part of the epic, rather than a later addition.7 All of these studies, however, contribute to the overall foundation on which later interpretive studies of the Telemachy build.

Whereas earlier scholars were interested in dealing specifically with whether or not the

Telemachy fit neatly, as a natural and integral part, into the Odyssey, the scholars who took up

Telemachus later instead deal with how the analysis of the character can say something about the poem itself. Anthorp later builds on how the journey of Telemachus is reflective of his father’s journey as a means of showing the “rich and subtle literary symphony that is the Odyssey.”8

Alden presents Telemachus in the context of literary parallels from medieval Italian and English writings to show how the Odyssey combines various themes from folk traditions in a single character.9

Beck has looked specifically at the speech introductions of Telemachus to investigate how the poem demonstrates his growth through the poetry itself.10 Heath problematizes Beck’s reading further by questioning how Homer applies Telemachus’ most frequent epithet,

πεπνυµένος, by arguing that the term is not colorless, but marks Telemachus’ growth into adulthood.11 While there has been much interest in Telemachus’ growth as a character over the course of the epic, some scholars are more tepid in their interpretation of the change in his character. Most notably, Olson argues that Telemachus does not undergo an internal, personal growth in the poem; rather, he finds that the change that readers notice in Telemachus is the character acting on development that comes before the epic begins.12 Together, however, these

7 Clarke (1963): 129–145; Rose (1967): 391–398; Bertman (1966): 15–27. Jones (1988) responds specifically to Rose and complicates his presentation of how Telemachus obtains kleos. Eckert (1963) approaches the journey as initiation rather than simply education and attempts to highlight the importance of the Telemachy. 8 Anthorp (1980): 22. 9 Alden (1987): 129–137. 10 Beck (1998). 11 Heath (2001): 130. 12 Olson (1995): 78–79.

works represent a more recent engagement, founded on new approaches, with the questions of how Telemachus functions in the narrative.

Martin’s article “Telemachus and the Last Hero Song” brings much of the earlier scholarship to a head and considers broadly the metapoetic quality of Telemachus’ character and how it relates to the end of the heroic age which his character signals.13 Martin marks a shift between the consideration of Telemachus as a character or the analysis of his effect on the rest of the poem and a more connected approach that deals with the connections between the culture surrounding epic poetry and the poetry itself. Murnaghan pushes Martin’s approach further by embracing the ambiguity of Telemachus’ position in the narrative as “a belated auditor of past glory by making him an actor in his own heroic story.”14 I follow this tradition closely in this thesis by focusing on not only how Telemachus functions in the narrative of the poem itself but also how those functions reveal his place as a reflection of the world of the post-Homeric audience.

For this thesis, I draw primarily on two interpretive frameworks: narratology and cognitive theory. Narratology has an established position as a theoretical tool for dealing with classical texts.15 At its most basic level, Narratology can be said to be “the theory of narratives, narrative texts, image, spectacles, events; cultural artifacts that ‘tell a story.’”16 Narratologists are interested in how an individual instance of relating a narrative functions through the artistic technique of its discourse. Coming with this is a great deal of specific terminology for the narrative moves that may occur in a text.17

13 Martin (1993). 14 Murnaghan (2002): 153. 15 Recent broad studies of narratology in Classics include Bowie, de Jong, and Nünlist (2004); Grethlein and Rengakos (2009); and de Jong (2014). Particularly on Homer and the Odyssey, see Richardson (1990); Louden (1999); and de Jong (2001). 16 Bal (1997): 3. 17 One can find an excellent glossary of these terms in de Jong (2001): xi–xix. de Jong (2014) helpfully details with

In order to avoid confusion and clogging the argument with digression later, I define here two of the most important specific terms which this thesis employs: focalization and motivation, both actorial and narratorial. Focalization is the process by which the narrative tells the story through the lens of a particular character, called the focalizer.18 It is not necessarily the case, though it may be, that the text “focuses” on the focalizer as the central or most important character at the moment of focalization. Rather, the events of the narrative are shaded by the character through whom they focalized. The effect of this bears a great deal of importance for the interpretation of a narrative text. The fact that the narrator, even an external narrator such as

Homer, must present the story through the viewpoint of a particular character shades the way in which the audience engages with the story being told. By explicating who the focalizer is and, more importantly, the effect of that focalization, it becomes easier to see how the text presents the story to the audience in a way particular to the narrative. In the Telemachy, the audience primarily experiences the story through the perspective of Telemachus, leaving to the side the point of view of other characters, especially the suitors. We can see, on a technical level, the effect of the focalization through Telemachus in book 1 when he greets Athena at the gates. The narrator first tells us that Telemachus sees Athena, using her name, but uses character-speech by calling her “a stranger” when he describes Telemachus’ emotions (Od. 1.118–120).19 When

Homer introduces Telemachus’ emotional response to seeing Athena, whom he sees a stranger, he limits the scope of the information provided in the narrative to what Telemachus has access.

The narratological term “motivation” generally refers to why particular characters perform the actions they do, and in this framework, two separate forms of motivation exist.

examples from Classical texts how many of these occur. 18 Bal (1997): 142–149. 19 Cf. de Jong (2001): 21.

Actorial motivation describes the reason why characters perform actions based on the goals and intentions of characters within the text. These goals are usually explicit in the narrative. As an example of this, Zeus gives his opening speech at the start of the text to express his frustration about how mortals blame the gods to the assembly around him (Od. 1.32–43). The actorial motivation in this scene is simply Zeus’ desire to express his frustration. The audience, however, understands that there is more to this scene than Zeus’ intention bears out. Understanding the narratorial motivation of this scene shows its larger role in the story. Narratorial motivation describes the reason why characters perform actions based on the goals and intentions of the narrator. Unlike actorial motivation, in Homer, these goals are almost always implicit. The narratorial motivation of Zeus’ lament is not as simple and direct as its actorial motivation. One reason for its presence in the narrative is to allow Athena to respond to Zeus’ example of

Aegisthus with the contrasting situation which Odysseus suffers. Within the narrative, Zeus has no intention of turning the story to Odysseus, but the narrator presents Zeus’ action as a means of turning the story to his troubles, regardless.

In addition to narratology, I employ the theory of parable as laid out by Mark Turner in

The Literary Mind.20 According to Turner, the act of human cognition constantly uses story, projection, and parable as a method of understanding and creating meaning.21 In this system, stories are “complex dynamic integrations of objects, actors, and events” which we abstract and apply to understand other stories, which is what Turner understands as projection. Parable, then, is the projection of one story onto another story.22 Importantly, stories are not only narrative, and they apply also to how we conceptualize the events of lived experience. During this process, a

20 While I use this model most directly in the second chapter of this thesis, it has informed my thinking throughout. 21 Turner (1996): 12. 22 Turner (1996): 7–10.

blended space exists between the source story, the one the auditor encounters, and the target story, the story onto which the source story is projected. When applying this to my analysis, several layers of projection and associated blended spaces occur: between Telemachus and the stories which he hears, between the external audience and Telemachus’ story, and between the external audience and the stories told to Telemachus. At each of these points, the auditors of the stories go through the process of parable and apply what they encounter to other stories, including and especially their own story.

This thesis is divided into three chapters. In the first, I outline the various social, cultural, and political roles which Telemachus plays in the Odyssey. Throughout the Odyssey, Telemachus variously acts as a competitor with the suitors for control of Ithaca, a guest to Nestor and

Menelaus, a host in his own household, and a son, and in each of these he provides a contrast to other characters who perform the same role differently. I aim to show how the youth functions within the narrative of the epic to create and define categories which play a part in characterizing not only Telemachus himself but the characters with whom he interacts. Beyond the contrasts internal to the epic, the performances of these roles by the characters of the poem provide the external audience with ethical guidelines with which the poem encourages them to engage as

Telemachus does.

The second chapter considers a more particular role which Telemachus performs, that of a metapoetic reader of epic, through exploring how the paranarrative of Orestes recurs in the poem and how Telemachus engages with it as a parable. I use the model of readership, and more generally of cognition, provided by Turner to uncover the multiple layers of parable at work in the narrative. Telemachus uptakes and responds to the story of Orestes’ revenge as an internal audience for the various narrators of the story, and the external audience simultaneously uptakes

the Orestes story itself and the story of Telemachus’ reception of it. The text presents his successful and unsuccessful readings of narrative as models with which the audience is encouraged to engage. I also engage with how the story occurs following the Telemachy. Due to the differing narratorial motivations of the presentation of the story in the context of Odysseus rather than his son, the content and function of the narrative shifts as well.

The final chapter moves beyond Homer to examine how Telemachus figures in the tradition of later ancient literature. Despite the evidence of his later representation being preserved primarily in testimonial and fragmentary texts, the narratives represented give a glimpse of how ancient authors responded to the character of Telemachus. I explicate the ways in which the stories presented in the fragmentary sources reveal potential variant myths of the youth’s story. The goal of this chapter is to examine how Telemachus reappears in later mythological texts and what, if anything, these texts can tell us about the cultural position of

Telemachus after the Odyssey.

Chapter One: The Social Positions of Telemachus

This chapter explores Telemachus’ characterization throughout the Odyssey. Rather than attempting to present a chronological examination of how Telemachus develops at each stage of his journey, I take an approach that highlights the variegated socio-cultural roles which he fills, and I draw attention to chronological change within each of these roles. While they are by no means the only roles that Telemachus fills, I focus here on Telemachus acting as a competitor, a host (and, to a lesser extent, a guest), and a son. By concentrating on each role and how

Telemachus functions in it over the course of the narrative rather than totalizing his development, I highlight how Telemachus’ interactions within the social environment around him create culturally enforceable ideological frameworks for defining and positioning characters in the narrative.

Understanding the characterization of Telemachus also provides value beyond simply illuminating other characters in the epic. In many ways, Telemachus serves as a model for the external audience of the poem. Like the audience, he is shut off from the heroic age and its traditional economy of kleos and contemporaneous models of proper social function.23 By examining his negotiation of his own cultural, social, and political position, the audience can parabolically apply the source material of the poem to themselves and recognize their differences from and similarities to the character of Telemachus.

Throughout the narrative, the audience sees Telemachus struggle with his position in relation to the young men pursuing his mother’s marriage, and at various points in the narrative,

Telemachus attempts to define himself in different ways. Initially, Telemachus laments the

23 This is particularly highlighted by the political situation on Ithaca, on which, see Clay (1983): 231–236.

presence of the suitors and his inability to put an end to their abuse of his household wealth because he is uncertain of his father's fate (e.g. Od. 1.158–168). Later, however, Telemachus makes an effort to establish his authority among the suitors, such as during the assembly in book

2, and ultimately plays an integral role in their slaughter with Odysseus in book 22. The contrast between Telemachus’ early self-positioning among the suitors and his later participation in their slaughter certainly highlights his development as a character, but it also functions to define the suitors and their behavior as abusive and destructive. The weak and infantile Telemachus of the start of the poem prompts the audience to pity his helplessness and scorn the suitors; the increasingly empowered Telemachus later in the narrative redefines his relationship to the suitors, placing himself in the position of their conqueror rather than their victim.

The question of the nature of Telemachus’ social relationship with the suitors remains. I argue that the surface distinctions of oppressors and victim or conqueror and defeated are not the true core of the interaction.24 Instead, throughout the narrative, Telemachus is a competitor in the economy of kleos with the suitors. Even though Telemachus does not participate in the continuous contest for the marriage of Penelope—which underlies the social interactions of the individual suitors—he stands in the way of their goal. Telemachus attempts to gain kleos by preserving his household wealth so that he can either welcome his father home to his possessions or, if he learns that he has died, provide him the proper funerary rites and take full possession of his inheritance. He has been cut off from the traditional, heroic pattern of attaining kleos, that is, through winning fame in great battles, so he must rely on the maintenance of his father’s kleos and the wealth he hopes to inherit from him.

24 These thoughts build on the arguments in Katz (1991): 33, as noted above.

Similarly, the suitors do not have access to the traditional route of attaining kleos. Unlike

Telemachus, however, the suitors attempt to gain kleos by marrying a famous woman and taking political control in Ithaca in a way reminiscent of the suitors of Helen and the power associated with her marriage. Because of the fact that control of Ithaca, and its associated political power and wealth, is bound up with the marriage of Penelope rather than with patrilineal inheritance,

Telemachus must contest the suitors’ ability to marry his mother until he can, as Athena later suggests (Od. 1.272), either confirm that his father is alive or provide him honors and give his mother to a husband himself (Od. 1.292). Athena’s advice hinges on Telemachus taking the household authority associated with his giving away his mother; she instructs him to take control of his mother’s body which has been made to stand metonymically for the power of his father's domain. In this way, Telemachus becomes a competitor for the suitors in the pursuit of his mother because he desires to gain the power with which she is associated. These conflicting goals place Telemachus and the suitors in opposition and serve to emphasize the thematic content of post-heroic kleos in the Telemachy and the Odyssey more generally.

The competitive tension between Telemachus and the suitors is particularly visible in the assembly scene in book 2. Here, Telemachus accuses the suitors of devouring his household wealth and laments that he does not have the power to stop them (Od. 2.40–79). Telemachus challenges the suitors by testing their ability to perform in the public sphere. Later, when he returns to the suitors in the halls, he claims his authority again (Od. 2.312–317):25

ἦ οὐχ ἅλις ὡς τὸ πάροιθεν ἐκείρετε πολλὰ καὶ ἐσθλὰ κτήµατ᾽ ἐµά, µνηστῆρες, ἐγὼ δ᾽ ἔτι νήπιος ἦα; νῦν δ᾽ ὅτε δὴ µέγας εἰµὶ καὶ ἄλλων µῦθον ἀκούων πυνθάνοµαι, καὶ δή µοι ἀέξεται ἔνδοθι θυµός, πειρήσω, ὥς κ᾽ ὔµµι κακὰς ἐπὶ κῆρας ἰήλω,

25 All translations my own unless otherwise noted. The text used is that of that of the Oxford Classical Text Series, Allen (1908).

ἠὲ Πύλονδ᾽ ἐλθών, ἢ αὐτοῦ τῷδ᾽ ἐνὶ δήµῳ.

Is it not sufficient that previously you consumed my many and good possessions, suitors, and I was still a child? But now when I am big and I learn from the speech of others, and indeed my spirit grows within, I will test how I might send evil death on you, either by going to Pylos, or while here in this house.

Telemachus both recognizes his need to make his journey to learn from others and asserts his position in the house as a masculinized figure who can maintain control of his household.

Despite his self-presentation as a strong figure, the quality of his speech and the reaction of the suitors betray the lengths he needs to go to complete his education and make real his threats to the suitors. Rather than take his threat seriously, the suitors mock Telemachus and feign fear at his ability to kill them (Od. 2.321–336).

While the suitors joke and treat Telemachus as an unthreatening figure in book 2, they consider contriving a plot to kill him later in the epic when it becomes clearer that he may threaten their position in the household and prevent the remarriage of Penelope following his return from his journey. The story of Telemachus’ journey marks a growth perceived by the suitors which changes his ability to present a threat to their goals in gaining control. When the suitors hear that Telemachus is returning home, Antinous encourages the suitors to plot his death

(Od. 16.371–380):

ἡµεῖς δ᾽ ἐνθάδε οἱ φραζώµεθα λυγρὸν ὄλεθρον Τηλεµάχῳ, µηδ᾽ ἧµας ὑπεκφύγοι· οὐ γὰρ ὀΐω τούτου γε ζώοντος ἀνύσσεσθαι τάδε ἔργα. αὐτὸς µὲν γὰρ ἐπιστήµων βουλῇ τε νόῳ τε, λαοὶ δ᾽ οὐκέτι πάµπαν ἐφ᾽ ἡµῖν ἦρα φέρουσιν. ἀλλ᾽ ἄγετε, πρὶν κεῖνον ὁµηγυρίσασθαι Ἀχαιοὺς εἰς ἀγορήν—οὐ γάρ τι µεθησέµεναί µιν ὀΐω, ἀλλ᾽ ἀποµηνίσει, ἐρέει δ᾽ ἐν πᾶσιν ἀναστὰς οὕνεκά οἱ φόνον αἰπὺν ἐράπτοµεν οὐδ᾽ ἐκίχηµεν· οἱ δ᾽ οὐκ αἰνήσουσιν ἀκούοντες κακὰ ἔργα.

But let us consider a mournful death for Telemachus, and not let him flee us: for I do not think that these things will be accomplished while he lives. For he himself is prudent in counsel and mind, and the people no longer bear kindness toward us

at all. But come, before that man calls the Achaeans together to assembly—for I do not think that he will forget this, but he will be furious, and after standing among all, he will say that we devised utter murder and we did not succeed, and they will not commend us after hearing the evil deeds.

Here, Antinous recognizes the danger that Telemachus’ return represents for their goals of attaining control and kleos. After completing his education, or a portion of it, through his journey to learn about his father—and how to be more like his father—he poses a much more significant threat. By recalling the assembly scene in book 2, Antinous highlights the change in

Telemachus’ abilities. Further, he expresses anxiety about the diminishing favor the suitors have in the household; he recognizes the need to act quickly to avoid losing out on their path toward kleos.

When Athena anticipates the conflict between Telemachus and the suitors detailed above in the first scene of the epic, she describes her plan to go to Ithaca and to encourage Telemachus to call an assembly and travel to Sparta and Pylos (Od. 1.88–95). During this speech, Athena begins the process of the characterization of the suitors before their introduction, claiming that they “always slaughter [his] closely-packed sheep and rambling, twisted-horned cattle” (οἵ τέ οἱ

αἰεὶ / µῆλ᾽ ἁδινὰ σφάζουσι καὶ εἰλίποδας ἕλικας βοῦς, Od. 1.91–92). The theme of the consumption of meat from inappropriate sources and the repercussions of this action appears outside the suitors as well. In the prologue to the epic, the narrator draws an explicit connection between the men of Odysseus losing their lives and their unethical consumption of the sun-god's cattle (1.6–9). The actions of the suitors in pursuit of kleos are implicitly presented negatively through the focalization of the narrative in contrast to the following lines in which Athena states her intent to encourage Telemachus to advance in his quest for kleos (Od. 1.93–95).

The narrator expands on Athena’s initial observation through his first description of the suitors which highlights the lavishness and extent of their abuse of Telemachus’ household (Od.

1.106–112):

εὗρε δ᾽ ἄρα µνηστῆρας ἀγήνορας. οἱ µὲν ἔπειτα πεσσοῖσι προπάροιθε θυράων θυµὸν ἔτερπον ἥµενοι ἐν ῥινοῖσι βοῶν, οὓς ἔκτανον αὐτοί· κήρυκες δ᾽ αὐτοῖσι καὶ ὀτρηροὶ θεράποντες οἱ µὲν οἶνον ἔµισγον ἐνὶ κρητῆρσι καὶ ὕδωρ, οἱ δ᾽ αὖτε σπόγγοισι πολυτρήτοισι τραπέζας νίζον καὶ πρότιθεν, τοὶ δὲ κρέα πολλὰ δατεῦντο.

And she found the arrogant suitors. Then they were cheering their spirits with checkers before the doors while sitting on the skins of cattle, which they themselves killed; some of the heralds and quick attendants mixed wine and water in kraters for them, and others washed tables with many-pored sponges and setting them up again, and others divided much meat.

The epithet ἀγήνορας (from ἀγήνωρ) is used in two nearly exclusive contexts in the Odyssey. In the nominative, vocative, and accusative plural, as here, it refers to the suitors.26 The second use case is in the nominative singular (ἀγήνωρ) and occurs fifteen times in line-final positions modifying θυµός. The contexts of the line-final formula “θυµός ἀγήνωρ” vary significantly more than the contexts of the formula modifying the suitors. While the use of “θυµός ἀγήνωρ” is unmarked, the application of ἀγήνορας to the suitors occurs in situations which highlight their negative characterization. The term is primarily used by those outside the group of suitors, only being used twice by a suitor to refer to the larger group of suitors.27 The formula for the suitors, then, seems to negatively mark their characters as “arrogant”, rather than the more neutral meaning of “proud.”

26 In the Allen text, the epithet occurs six times in the nominative or vocative plural and six times in the accusative plural, each time with the suitors. The von der Mühll text includes an additional usage in the nominative plural with δρηστῆρες (Od. 20.106). 27 Even in these contexts, the suitors who use the phrase (Antinous at Od. 18.43 and Ctesippus at Od. 20.292) do so while addressing the suitors and making a proposal, further limiting when the suitors use ἀγήνορες to refer to themselves.

The context of the first appearance of the suitors in the poem heightens their arrogance.

While the actions of the servants are fairly common and formulaic in scenes of feasting, key moments draw attention to the abnormality of the situation. In particular, the relative clause

“which they themselves killed” (οὓς ἔκτανον αὐτοί) reminds the audience that the suitors are not participating in the normal process of xenia. Instead of partaking of the meat and hides of animals slaughtered by a host from his own stock, the suitors have taken use of the property without proper recompense.28 This contrasts starkly with the actions of Telemachus when he acts as a guest in the houses of Nestor and Menelaus in books 3 and 4.

The majority of the Telemachy places Telemachus in the socio-cultural position of a guest which creates a contrast between the behavior of the suitors in what should be a similar social role and provides an opportunity for him to observe how to properly be a host. As he makes his journey to Pylos and Sparta, he not only learns more about his father and the other

Achaeans at Troy, but he also is educated in how to properly be a host by observing the actions of Nestor and Menelaus and how to be a guest through his own actions. Telemachus himself expresses anxiety about his lack of knowledge in how to perform the guest host relationship when he arrives on the shores of Pylos, but Athena encourages him (Od. 3.22–28):

‘Μέντορ, πῶς τ᾽ ἄρ᾽ ἴω; πῶς τ᾽ ἂρ προσπτύξοµαι αὐτόν; οὐδέ τί πω µύθοισι πεπείρηµαι πυκινοῖσιν· αἰδὼς δ᾽ αὖ νέον ἄνδρα γεραίτερον ἐξερέεσθαι.’ τὸν δ᾽ αὖτε προσέειπε θεά, γλαυκῶπις Ἀθήνη· ‘Τηλέµαχ᾽, ἄλλα µὲν αὐτὸς ἐνὶ φρεσὶ σῇσι νοήσεις, ἄλλα δὲ καὶ δαίµων ὑποθήσεται· οὐ γὰρ ὀίω οὔ σε θεῶν ἀέκητι γενέσθαι τε τραφέµεν τε.’

“Mentor, how should I go? How should I greet him? I am not experienced in subtle speech; moreover, it is shameful for a youth to interrogate an older man.” But the goddess, grey-eyed Athena, answered him in turn: “Telemachus, some things you yourself will conceive of in your heart, and others divinity will

28 For more on the crimes of the suitors, see Bakker (2013): 42–47.

counsel: for I do not think that you were born and raised against the will of the gods.”

The opening section of Telemachus’ journey provides programmatic information to the audience, namely, that Telemachus is uncertain of how the guest-host relationship functions and that Athena intends for him to learn through experience. When they arrive at the crowds of people on the shore, Nestor’s son Peisistratus greets them, offers them a seat on the dais beside his father and brother, and gives them food and wine (Od. 3.34–42). Telemachus quickly adapts to this situation and effectively converses with Nestor and later Menelaus to learn what he can about his father and the Achaeans.29

The text does not explicitly expand on how Telemachus learns to be a guest beyond the introductory section of book 3; however, when Telemachus is preparing to return to Ithaca in book 15, he asks Nestor’s son Peisistratus not to bring him to Nestor so that he might not delay his journey (Od. 15.199–201):

µή µε παρὲξ ἄγε νῆα, διοτρεφές, ἀλλὰ λίπ᾽ αὐτοῦ, µή µ᾽ ὁ γέρων ἀέκοντα κατάσχῃ ᾧ ἐνὶ οἴκῳ ἱέµενος φιλέειν· ἐµὲ δὲ χρεὼ θᾶσσον ἱκέσθαι.

Do not, man dear to Zeus, lead me beyond my ship, but leave me here, lest the old man keep me, unwilling, in his house, since he is eager to welcome guests, and I need to go quickly.

Telemachus’ anxiety about excessive hosting signals to the audience that he has learned not only how one is to host but also the proper execution of this action. This scene also recalls an earlier mistake while he was hosting Athena disguised as Mentes in book 1 when he asks Athena to remain with him although she wants to leave and offers her a bath and gifts, but she refuses and orders him not to keep her (Od. 1.306–318). By recognizing Nestor’s potential for being an

29 Since Telemachus’ function as an auditor of epic while he is a guest is the central focus of the second chapter of this thesis, I provide less detail here.

overly gracious host and the problems that can be generated from this, the audience is invited to notice in Telemachus a shift in his awareness of proper social order.

Telemachus frequently serves as a host in the epic, both before and after his educational journey to Pylos and Sparta. The most patent instance of Telemachus taking on this role in the

Telemachy comes when Athena comes to him in the disguise of Mentes. While he is looking wistfully at the door day-dreaming about his father returning and ridding the house of the suitors, he catches sight of Athena (Od. 1.119–124):

βῆ δ᾽ ἰθὺς προθύροιο, νεµεσσήθη δ᾽ ἐνὶ θυµῷ ξεῖνον δηθὰ θύρῃσιν ἐφεστάµεν· ἐγγύθι δὲ στὰς χεῖρ᾽ ἕλε δεξιτερὴν καὶ ἐδέξατο χάλκεον ἔγχος, καί µιν φωνήσας ἔπεα πτερόεντα προσηύδα· ‘χαῖρε, ξεῖνε, παρ᾽ ἄµµι φιλήσεαι· αὐτὰρ ἔπειτα δείπνου πασσάµενος µυθήσεαι ὅττεό σε χρή.’

He immediately went to the front door, and he was angry in his heart that a guest waited for a long time at the gates; after he stood nearby, he took her right hand and received her bronze spear, and addressing her, spoke winged words: “Greetings, guest, you will be loved among us, but after you have eaten a meal, you will say whatever you need.”

From the start, Telemachus is contrasted against the suitors, who are too busy in their reveling to notice a guest at the gates. The narrator emphasizes Telemachus’ role as a host, and in particular a good host, by focalizing the scene through him. By revealing Telemachus’ internalized shame that the guest has been waiting, the narrator encourages the audience to recognize his desire to be a proper host. A scholiast to the Odyssey explains that the guest has been waiting for a long time

“on account of the suitors, who, after they saw his staff there, suspected that he was a king”

(ξεῖνον δηθὰ] καὶ τοῦτο διὰ τοὺς µνηστῆρας, ἵνα τὸ σκῆπτρον ἰδόντες ὡς βασιλέα αὐτὸν

ὑπονοήσωσι. Schol. S. ad. Od. 1.120 ex. 1–2). Taking this interpretation, the Homeric narrator includes Telemachus’ feeling of shame as a way of further separating him from the suitors and their impropriety.

The scene’s focalization through Telemachus continues as he and Athena sit down to prepare to eat, and the narrator continues to reveal his feeling towards the suitors (Od. 1.130–

135):

αὐτὴν δ᾽ ἐς θρόνον εἷσεν ἄγων, ὑπὸ λῖτα πετάσσας, καλὸν δαιδάλεον· ὑπὸ δὲ θρῆνυς ποσὶν ἦεν. πὰρ δ᾽ αὐτὸς κλισµὸν θέτο ποικίλον, ἔκτοθεν ἄλλων µνηστήρων, µὴ ξεῖνος ἀνιηθεὶς ὀρυµαγδῷ δείπνῳ ἁδήσειεν, ὑπερφιάλοισι µετελθών, ἠδ᾽ ἵνα µιν περὶ πατρὸς ἀποιχοµένοιο ἔροιτο.

But he led her to the throne and sat her down, after spreading a smooth cloth over the beautifully made throne, and under it was a footstool for feet. And beside it he himself set a decorated couch, away from the other suitors, so that the guest might not hate the dinner after being vexed by their noise, because she was among overbearing men, and so that he might ask her about his far-off father.

The narrator gives two reasons for Telemachus’ choice of seat. First, he has a great concern for his guest, wanting to avoid any discomfort because of the behavior of the suitors. The second reason, being able to ask what the stranger knows about his father, which is for his benefit, is added almost as an afterthought. The narrator emphasizes Telemachus’ character as a good host, and this would not have been lost on the ancient readers. The scholia to the Odyssey provide a deeper interpretation of this passage (Schol. ad. Od. 1.130. E.M.T. ex. 1–5):

ὑποφαίνει διὰ τοῦτο καὶ ἄλλο τι καθῆ- κον, ὅτι τοῦ ἰδίου θρόνου παρεχώρησε τῷ ξένῳ ὁ Τηλέµαχος. πάντα οὖν ἐλέγχει τὸ σῶφρον τοῦ νέου, τὰ τοῦ λόγου καὶ τὰ τοῦ τόπου, τό τε ἔγχος ἀναλαµβάνων καὶ τοῦ θρόνου παραχωρῶν. θρόνος δὲ ἀπὸ τοῦ ἄνω θεωρεῖν, ἤτοι ὁ ἐπηρµένος.

Some other appropriate behavior also becomes clear through this—the fact that Telemachus yields his own throne to the guest. Therefore, all things prove the prudence of the youth, the things of his words and of his position, the taking of the spear and the yielding of the seat. “Throne” is from “to be raised up above”, which truly is being exalted.

The scholiast, here, characterizes Telemachus as an excellent host and draws attention to how the narrative extensively presents him as such. By giving up his throne to Athena, Telemachus grants

his guest a place of special honor, an action that the scholiast considers emblematic of appropriate behavior. At its root, this scene is an example of theoxenia, and Telemachus’ exemplary behavior in this precedes his educational journey in the rest of the Telemachy which is, in part, about learning how to be a guest (ξένος).

Telemachus is confronted with a rather different stranger for whom he serves as a host during the Ithacan sequence. When Odysseus returns to Ithaca disguised as an old beggar in book

14, the swineherd Eumaeus welcomes him initially and provides him hospitality (Od. 14.48–56).

In book 16, however, Telemachus returns from his voyage and takes up the role of host for his father. He demonstrates his commitment to hospitality when he first sees Odysseus (Od. 16.41–

45):

αὐτὰρ ὅ γ᾽ εἴσω ἴεν καὶ ὑπέρβη λάϊνον οὐδόν. τῷ δ᾽ ἕδρης ἐπιόντι πατὴρ ὑπόειξεν Ὀδυσσεύς· Τηλέµαχος δ᾽ ἑτέρωθεν ἐρήτυε φώνησέν τε· ‘ἧσ᾽, ὦ ξεῖν᾽· ἡµεῖς δὲ καὶ ἄλλοθι δήοµεν ἕδρην σταθµῷ ἐν ἡµετέρῳ· πάρα δ᾽ ἀνὴρ ὃς καταθήσει.’

But [Telemachus] went inside and stepped over the stone threshold. His father Odysseus rose from his seat for him as he approached, but Telemachus stopped him and said: “Sit, guest. And we will find a seat elsewhere in our stall, and there is a man who will set it up.”

As he does with Athena, Telemachus again yields his seat to a stranger. By returning to

Telemachus’ actions as a host during his first meeting with his father, Homer creates a thematic thread which runs through all of the scenes of Odysseus in disguise. Indeed, Telemachus himself laments his inability to be a better host to Odysseus because of his youth, his mother’s position, and the overbearing presence of the suitors (Od. 16.68–89).30

30 On the scene of recognition between Odysseus and Telemachus, which I do not treat here, see Murnaghan (1987): 32–37.

The narrative particularly draws attention to the contrast between Telemachus and the suitors in how they act as hosts. While Telemachus consistently shows respect and deference to his guests and expresses concern over whether he is performing the role of host appropriately, the suitors reject the proper guest-host relationship. This dynamic comes to head in book 17 when Odysseus, still disguised as a beggar, comes to his house and requests a guest-gift from the suitors. The constancy of Telemachus’ self-presentation and narrative representation as a good host in the customary relationships surrounding xenia create a stark foil to the actions of the suitors upon Odysseus’ return home.

When Odysseus arrives at the house with Eumaeus, the swineherd, Telemachus greets him and offers him a bounty of food (Od. 17.342–347). After he eats what Telemachus gives him, Athena encourages Odysseus to ask the suitors for bits of bread, and they oblige as he moves across the room. (Od. 17.356–368). Antinous, however, goaded by the goatherd,

Melanthius, upbraids Eumaeus and refuses hospitality (Od. 17.375–379):

ὦ ἀρίγνωτε συβῶτα, τίη δὲ σὺ τόνδε πόλινδε ἤγαγες; ἦ οὐχ ἅλις ἧµιν ἀλήµονές εἰσι καὶ ἄλλοι, πτωχοὶ ἀνιηροί, δαιτῶν ἀπολυµαντῆρες; ἦ ὄνοσαι ὅτι τοι βίοτον κατέδουσιν ἄνακτος ἐνθάδ᾽ ἀγειρόµενοι, σὺ δὲ καὶ προτὶ τόνδ᾽ ἐκάλεσσας;

Oh unmistakable swineherd, why then did you lead this man to this city? Do we not have other wanderers in plenty, grievous beggars, the kill-joys of our feasts? Or do you think little of the fact that after gathering together here they gobble up the livelihood of your master, and do you encourage even this man?

The irony of Antinous’ speech is palpable, especially with the intense focalization of the scenes involving the suitors through those who find fault with their behavior. The suitors transgress the normal socio-cultural structures of the guest-host relationship in their pursuit of Penelope, and

the action of “gobbling up livelihood” (βίοτον κατέδουσιν) is frequently associated with the suitors.31

Following a response from Eumaeus, Telemachus provides a stern rebuke of Antinous that reinforces the masculinizing force of his journey (Od. 17.397–404):

Ἀντίνο᾽, ἦ µευ καλὰ πατὴρ ὣς κήδεαι υἷος, ὃς τὸν ξεῖνον ἄνωγας ἀπὸ µεγάροιο διέσθαι µύθῳ ἀναγκαίῳ· µὴ τοῦτο θεὸς τελέσειε. δός οἱ ἑλών· οὔ τοι φθονέω· κέλοµαι γὰρ ἐγώ γε: µήτ᾽ οὖν µητέρ᾽ ἐµὴν ἅζευ τό γε µήτε τιν᾽ ἄλλον δµώων, οἳ κατὰ δώµατ᾽ Ὀδυσσῆος θείοιο. ἀλλ᾽ οὔ τοι τοιοῦτον ἐνὶ στήθεσσι νόηµα· αὐτὸς γὰρ φαγέµεν πολὺ βούλεαι ἢ δόµεν ἄλλῳ.

Antinous, truly you care for me well, like a father for his son, you who command me to drive this stranger from the hall with forceful speech; may the god not fulfill this thing. Take and give to him; I do not begrudge you, for I at least urge it. Do not fear my mother or some other of the slaves who live in the house of divine Odysseus. But, indeed, this is not the sort of thought in your heart: for you yourself wish to eat more than to give to another.

The sarcasm of Telemachus’ remarks reverses the initially proposed role of Antinous as a father and Telemachus as a son. By encouraging him not to fear Penelope or the slaves, Telemachus subtly reminds him of the social positions at play; Telemachus claims the authority of the house and reduces Antinous to the position of a child in need of education.

After Telemachus’ rebuke, Odysseus addresses Antinous in a speech which takes a more mollifying approach. Throughout the interchange that follows, there exists a structure which recalls Odysseus’ narration of his encounter with Polyphemus (Od. 17.415–420):

δός, φίλος· οὐ µέν µοι δοκέεις ὁ κάκιστος Ἀχαιῶν ἔµµεναι, ἀλλ᾽ ὤριστος, ἐπεὶ βασιλῆϊ ἔοικας. τῷ σε χρὴ δόµεναι καὶ λώϊον ἠέ περ ἄλλοι σίτου· ἐγὼ δέ κέ σε κλείω κατ᾽ ἀπείρονα γαῖαν. καὶ γὰρ ἐγώ ποτε οἶκον ἐν ἀνθρώποισιν ἔναιον ὄλβιος ἀφνειὸν καὶ πολλάκι δόσκον ἀλήτῃ.

31 See, e.g. Od. 2.237, 11.116, 13.396, 13.428, 15.32, 19.534

Give, friend; you do not seem to me to be the worst of the Achaeans, but the best, since you seem like a king. It is right for you to give even a greater portion of bread than the others, and I would praise you throughout the boundless earth. For I once dwelled in a house among people as a blessed man in a wealthy home.

The resemblance of this scene to Odysseus’ narration of the Polyphemus episode, in which he claims his position—in this case as a warrior with Agamemnon’s army—and requests hospitality

(Od. 9.259–271), imparts additional significance to Antinous’ rejection of his request. After

Antinous mocks Odysseus, calling him an “audacious and shameless beggar” (Od. ὥς τις

θαρσαλέος καὶ ἀναιδής ἐσσι προΐκτης 17.449), he rebukes the suitor (Od. 17.454–457):

ὢ πόποι, οὐκ ἄρα σοί γ᾽ ἐπὶ εἴδεϊ καὶ φρένες ἦσαν· οὐ σύ γ᾽ ἂν ἐξ οἴκου σῷ ἐπιστάτῃ οὐδ᾽ ἅλα δοίης, ὃς νῦν ἀλλοτρίοισι παρήµενος οὔ τί µοι ἔτλης σίτου ἀποπροελὼν δόµεναι· τὰ δὲ πολλὰ πάρεστιν.

Alas! Your thoughts were not matching your appearance. You would not give salt from your house to a beggar, you who now while sitting at another man’s possessions, would not suffer to take bread and give it to me, even when there is much.

Just as the cyclopes live off the bounty provided by Zeus (Od. 9.106–115), the suitors live off an external source of wealth for which they do not work. The reflection of the earlier scene draws attention to how the problematized social relationships in the narrative of Odysseus' journey are applicable in the Ithacan sequence.

Antinous reacts violently to Odysseus’ harsh response, furthering the symmetry between his actions and that of the monster (Od. 17.462–467):

ὣς ἔφατ᾽, Ἀντίνοος δ᾽ ἐχολώσατο κηρόθι µᾶλλον, καί µιν ὑπόδρα ἰδὼν ἔπεα πτερόεντα προσηύδα· ‘νῦν δή σ᾽ οὐκέτι καλὰ διὲκ µεγάροιό γ᾽ ὀΐω ἂψ ἀναχωρήσειν, ὅτε δὴ καὶ ὀνείδεα βάζεις.’ ὣς ἄρ᾽ ἔφη, καὶ θρῆνυν ἑλὼν βάλε δεξιὸν ὦµον, πρυµνότατον κατὰ νῶτον· ὁ δ᾽ ἐστάθη ἠΰτε πέτρη ἔµπεδον, οὐδ᾽ ἄρα µιν σφῆλεν βέλος Ἀντινόοιο, ἀλλ᾽ ἀκέων κίνησε κάρη, κακὰ βυσσοδοµεύων.

So Odysseus spoke, but Antinous became more angry in his heart, and while looking sternly at him, he spoke winged words: “Now surely I think, at least, you will no longer go back through the halls well, when you speak reproaches.” So he spoke, and after seizing a footstool, he threw it at his right shoulder, the uppermost part in the area of the back, but he stood firm just as a rock, and the projectile of Antinous did not make him fall, but he, silent, shook his head, brooding on evils.

Antinous’ act of violence completes the thematic arch reflected in the cyclops scene. While the act of throwing the footstool does not rise to the level of the crime—eating Odysseus’ men— which Polyphemus commits, the structural symmetry provides an opportunity for considering the similarity of Odysseus’ trouble abroad and at home. Through this, the reader can assimilate the actions of the suitors to those of Polyphemus, making domestic the fantastical monstrosity of

Odysseus’ wandering. This is not the only example of the suitors performing violent actions against the disguised Odysseus—Eurymachus also throws a footstool at him, but misses (Od.

18.346–428), and Ctesippus fails at an attempt to hurl an ox-foot at him (20.284–325).32 It is, however, a particularly useful case-study of how the narrative sets out the values of Telemachus and the suitors in opposition.

The most central of Telemachus’ socio-cultural roles in the Odyssey, of course, are those of a son and a prince. At the same time, however, they are the most difficult roles to pin down.

Whereas his other positions have rather clear narrative functions, such as to contrast with the suitors and other figures, his role as a son is far more mutable and bound up in his inability to know anything about his father. In his first conversation with Athena after she asks if he is the son of Odysseus and remarks on their similarities (Od. 1.206–212), Telemachus expresses doubt about his paternity (Od. 1.214–220):

τοιγὰρ ἐγώ τοι, ξεῖνε, µάλ᾽ ἀτρεκέως ἀγορεύσω. µήτηρ µέν τέ µέ φησι τοῦ ἔµµεναι, αὐτὰρ ἐγώ γε οὐκ οἶδ᾽· οὐ γάρ πώ τις ἑὸν γόνον αὐτὸς ἀνέγνω.

32 For more on the significance of this descending triadic structure, see de Jong (2001): 424.

ὡς δὴ ἐγώ γ᾽ ὄφελον µάκαρός νύ τευ ἔµµεναι υἱὸς ἀνέρος, ὃν κτεάτεσσιν ἑοῖς ἔπι γῆρας ἔτετµε. νῦν δ᾽ ὃς ἀποτµότατος γένετο θνητῶν ἀνθρώπων, τοῦ µ᾽ ἔκ φασι γενέσθαι, ἐπεὶ σύ µε τοῦτ᾽ ἐρεείνεις.

Well, I will tell you, guest, very exactly. My mother says that I am his, but I do not know: for no one at all knows his own birth certainly. Would that I were the son now of some blessed man, whom old age took while among his possessions. But now, they say that I was born from he who was most unfortunate of mortal men, since you ask me this thing.

While this line of questioning is readily quashed by Athena and hardly mentioned after this conversation, it bears importance for revealing Telemachus’ understanding of his own social position. Because his father is absent and there is uncertainty surrounding his fate, Telemachus cannot fully take on the social position of a son. His claim that no one knows the circumstances of his birth with certainty is a generalized one which has no bearing on his wish that he had a father who died of old age among his possessions. Rather, in that situation, the uncertainty would be present but less problematic, since he could take up the social position and possessions of whomever his father is said to be.

Telemachus' interaction with Penelope at the end of book 1, during which he reprimands her for attempting to stop the bard Phemius from singing about the homecoming of the Achaean heroes (Od. 1.337–364), reveals a particular instance of his negotiation of his social and political position. Regardless of whether Telemachus is rude to his mother in this passage, he takes on a social role which projects masculinity and authority (Od. 1.353–359):33

σοί δ᾽ ἐπιτολµάτω κραδίη καὶ θυµὸς ἀκούειν· οὐ γὰρ Ὀδυσσεὺς οἶος ἀπώλεσε νόστιµον ἦµαρ ἐν Τροίῃ, πολλοὶ δὲ καὶ ἄλλοι φῶτες ὄλοντο. ἀλλ᾽ εἰς οἶκον ἰοῦσα τὰ σ᾽ αὐτῆς ἔργα κόµιζε, ἱστόν τ᾽ ἠλακάτην τε, καὶ ἀµφιπόλοισι κέλευε ἔργον ἐποίχεσθαι· µῦθος δ᾽ ἄνδρεσσι µελήσει πᾶσι, µάλιστα δ᾽ ἐµοί· τοῦ γὰρ κράτος ἔστ᾽ ἐνὶ οἴκῳ.

33 For more on the question of Telemachus’ rudeness, see Clark (2001).

But for you, let your heart and spirit endure to hear: for Odysseus did not alone lose his homecoming day in Troy, but many others also men also died. But go into the house and take care for your own work, the loom and the distaff, and order your handmaids to focus on their work, but speech will be a care for all men, especially for me: for the power in the house is mine.

Telemachus marks a departure from his childlike characteristics through his decision to take authority of this situation and to allow the bard to continue singing the song which “men praise most” (ἀοιδὴν µᾶλλον ἐπικλείουσ᾽ ἄνθρωποι Od. 1.351). He directly lays out the social order which he imposes at the end of his speech; women are confined to household work while men listen to—and presumably learn from—the songs of the bard.

Underlying all of the roles which Telemachus plays throughout the Odyssey is that of

Odysseus’ son. Of course, he cannot completely fulfill this role until Odysseus returns home and makes himself known to Telemachus, but when this occurs, he is disbelieving due to the miraculous nature of his father’s metamorphosis from a ragged old beggar to godlike splendor

(Od. 16.194–199). Odysseus quickly quells Telemachus’ disbelief, explaining that it is through

Athena’s power that his appearance changes so rapidly (Od. 16.202–212), and they embrace. The pair, however, does not dwell long on his happy reunion; instead, Odysseus turns directly to the problem of the suitors, refocusing the relationship from reunited father and son to a pair united in a quest to destroy their enemies (Od. 16.225–239). The relationship between Telemachus and

Odysseus, as well as the remainder of Telemachus’ socio-cultural development, hinges on working with his father to defeat the suitors.

In book 17, following the incident in which Antinous hurls a footstool at Odysseus,

Penelope asks Eumaeus to bring the abused beggar to her so that she might ask about the fate of her husband (Od. 17.529–550). After the swineherd relays this request to him, Odysseus agrees to meet her and tell her what he knows about Odysseus, but wishes to wait until night so he can avoid the suitors (Od. 17.564–568):

ἀλλὰ µνηστήρων χαλεπῶν ὑποδείδι᾽ ὅµιλον, τῶν ὕβρις τε βίη τε σιδήρεον οὐρανὸν ἵκει. καὶ γὰρ νῦν, ὅτε µ᾽ οὗτος ἀνὴρ κατὰ δῶµα κιόντα οὔ τι κακὸν ῥέξαντα βαλὼν ὀδύνῃσιν ἔδωκεν, οὔτε τι Τηλέµαχος τό γ᾽ ἐπήρκεσεν οὔτε τις ἄλλος.

But I fear the throng of harsh suitors, whose hubris and violence approach iron heaven. For even now, when, as I was going through the house, not doing anything bad, this man hit me and caused me pain, neither Telemachus nor any other prevented it.

The implied criticism of Telemachus’ inaction identifies the starting point and desired ending point of his education as the child of a hero. It is not enough, in Odysseus’ view, to rebuke the suitors with words; he must also take action and put an end to their violence by accomplishing their slaughter.

Later, however, when Odysseus goes to see Penelope after the suitors leave the house, he praises Telemachus as similar to himself and masculinizes him in an admonitory response to the rebuke of Melantho, an attendant of Penelope (Od. 19.81–88):

τῷ νῦν µήποτε καὶ σύ, γύναι, ἀπὸ πᾶσαν ὀλέσσῃς ἀγλαΐην, τῇ νῦν γε µετὰ δµῳῇσι κέκασσαι· µή πώς τοι δέσποινα κοτεσσαµένη χαλεπήνῃ, ἢ Ὀδυσεὺς ἔλθῃ· ἔτι γὰρ καὶ ἐλπίδος αἶσα. εἰ δ᾽ ὁ µὲν ὣς ἀπόλωλε καὶ οὐκέτι νόστιµός ἐστιν, ἀλλ᾽ ἤδη παῖς τοῖος Ἀπόλλωνός γε ἕκητι, Τηλέµαχος· τὸν δ᾽ οὔ τις ἐνὶ µεγάροισι γυναικῶν λήθει ἀτασθάλλουσ᾽, ἐπεὶ οὐκέτι τηλίκος ἐστίν.

Now, even you, woman, never lose all the beauty, in which you excel among the slaves, lest somehow your mistress might become angry with you and hate you, or Odysseus might return, for even still there is a share of hope. But if he is dead and his homecoming is no more, but already his son, Telemachus, is like him by the will of Apollo, and which of the women act wantonly in the halls does not escape him, since he is no longer so young.

Here, it seems that Odysseus trusts Telemachus to act upon their earlier plan to learn which women are acting well in the house (Od. 16.309–320). Unlike his comment to Eumaeus,

Odysseus signals to the internal auditor and the external audience that he is prepared to take back

his household from the suitors and those slaves that have aided them. At the start of the book, he tells his son that he will “rouse the slaves and his mother” (Od. 19.45), and this speech serves that purpose; however, it also foreshadows the slaughter of the suitors and Telemachus’ role in it.

Telemachus’ ability to discern which of the household slaves are worthy of being spared and those who should die is a characteristic which Odysseus assimilates to himself, and one, as we shall see later, that Telemachus possesses.

The apex of Telemachus’ education and development comes during the slaughter of the suitors, and the vignette with which book 21 closes highlights the importance of the similarity and connection between Odysseus and his son. After Odysseus successfully strings the bow and shoots his arrow through the axe holes, he tells Telemachus to make ready for a feast (Od.

21.404–430).34 The narrator provides a clear indication for the audience that this begins the scene of the slaughter and emphasizes that Telemachus will be a heroic participant (Od. 21.431–434):

ἦ καὶ ἐπ᾽ ὀφρύσι νεῦσεν· ὁ δ᾽ ἀµφέθετο ξίφος ὀξὺ Τηλέµαχος, φίλος υἱὸς Ὀδυσσῆος θείοιο, ἀµφὶ δὲ χεῖρα φίλην βάλεν ἔγχεϊ, ἄγχι δ᾽ ἄρ᾽ αὐτοῦ πὰρ θρόνον ἑστήκει κεκορυθµένος αἴθοπι χαλκῷ.

And he truly raised his brows, and Telemachus, the beloved son of godlike Odysseus, girded a sharp sword, and he threw his dear hand around his spear, and he stood beside the seat of his father, armed in gleaming bronze.

The association between Telemachus’ assumption of a heroic appearance and the anticipation of the climactic section of the epic heightens the role of his development as a central theme of the poem. By focalizing this scene through Telemachus, the narrator displaces the imagery of a hero from Odysseus while still closely associating it with him. Telemachus serves not only as a heroic figure himself but also as a metonym for Odysseus’ strength.

34 It is worth noting here that Telemachus nearly strings the bow of Odysseus, and he is only stopped by his father secretly signaling him not to complete the action (Od. 21.101–129). This scene prompts the audience to anticipate Telemachus’ ability to equal his father which is fulfilled in the scene of the slaughter.

Although Telemachus actively participates in the slaughter of the suitors, his role is particularly important in the salvation of two servants who did not aid the suitors, the bard

Phemius and the herald Medon. After Phemius approaches Odysseus and begs for mercy while he is in mid-rampage (Od. 22.330–343), Telemachus steps in quickly to restrain his anger and prevent the slaughter of those whom he deems as innocent (Od. 22.356–360):

ἴσχεο µηδέ τι τοῦτον ἀναίτιον οὔταε χαλκῷ· καὶ κήρυκα Μέδοντα σαώσοµεν, ὅς τέ µευ αἰεὶ οἴκῳ ἐν ἡµετέρῳ κηδέσκετο παιδὸς ἐόντος, εἰ δὴ µή µιν ἔπεφνε Φιλοίτιος ἠὲ συβώτης, ἠὲ σοὶ ἀντεβόλησεν ὀρινοµένῳ κατὰ δῶµα.

Restrain yourself, and do not wound this innocent man with bronze, and let us save the herald Medon, who always cared for me in our house when I was a child, unless Philoitius or the swineherd struck him already, or he encountered you while you rampaged through the house.

Telemachus proves himself able to fight alongside his father and participate in the slaughter, but more importantly, he is able both to act rightly in the context of the slaughter and to balance violence with justice. The scene of the slaughter ends with Telemachus’ intervention on behalf of the two slaves, providing him a prominent position at the start and end of the climax of the epic.

During the two privileged moments of the narrative, he becomes like his father in strength and in mind.

After the completion of the slaughter of the suitors, Odysseus orders Telemachus, the cowherd, and the swineherd to clean up the courtyard where the slaughter occurred and to kill with their swords the twelve slave women whom Eurycleia identifies as acting shamefully (Od.

22.419–445). Telemachus, however, refuses to use his sword to kill the slave women (Od.

22.461–473):

τοῖσι δὲ Τηλέµαχος πεπνυµένος ἦρχ᾽ ἀγορεύειν· ‘µὴ µὲν δὴ καθαρῷ θανάτῳ ἀπὸ θυµὸν ἑλοίµην τάων, αἳ δὴ ἐµῇ κεφαλῇ κατ᾽ ὀνείδεα χεῦαν

µητέρι θ᾽ ἡµετέρῃ παρά τε µνηστῆρσιν ἴαυον.’ ὣς ἄρ᾽ ἔφη, καὶ πεῖσµα νεὸς κυανοπρῴροιο κίονος ἐξάψας µεγάλης περίβαλλε θόλοιο, ὑψόσ᾽ ἐπεντανύσας, µή τις ποσὶν οὖδας ἵκοιτο. ὡς δ᾽ ὅτ᾽ ἂν ἢ κίχλαι τανυσίπτεροι ἠὲ πέλειαι ἕρκει ἐνιπλήξωσι, τό θ᾽ ἑστήκῃ ἐνὶ θάµνῳ, αὖλιν ἐσιέµεναι, στυγερὸς δ᾽ ὑπεδέξατο κοῖτος, ὣς αἵ γ᾽ ἑξείης κεφαλὰς ἔχον, ἀµφὶ δὲ πάσαις δειρῇσι βρόχοι ἦσαν, ὅπως οἴκτιστα θάνοιεν. ἤσπαιρον δὲ πόδεσσι µίνυνθά περ οὔ τι µάλα δήν.

Among them, wise Telemachus was first to speak, “May I take life not by a clean death from these women who poured reproaches on my head on and my mother while sleeping beside the suitors.” So he spoke, and after he tied the cable of a dark-prowed ship to a great pillar, he threw it around the roof. He fastened it high, lest any foot might touch the ground. And just as when thrushes with long wings or doves fall upon a snare, which is set in a bush, while they seek a roosting- place, and an abominable bed welcomes them, so the women held their heads in order, and nooses were around all their throats, so that they might die most pitiably. And they struggled with their feet for a bit, but not very long.

Telemachus’ decision to kill the slave women by hanging rather than following his father’s instruction to kill them by the sword heightens his desire to dishonor them.35 This scene is remarkably difficult to deal with, both because of its disturbing content and its apparent departure from the poem’s earlier representation and characterization of Telemachus.36 The poem seems to encourage the reader to sympathize with the slave women through the extended simile, which presents them as birds who are innocently looking for a place to rest and instead find the trap of a more powerful figure. At the same time, however, the text provides Telemachus an opportunity to justify his actions; for him, the slaves do not deserve the clean death which

Odysseus ordered because they have brought insult to himself and his mother. In terms of

Telemachus’ growth, the scene seems, on the one hand, to highlight his control over household

35 Eustathius (Comm. ad. Od. II 290) draws attention to the contrast between Odysseus’ orders and Telemachus’ actions and claims that Telemachus’ choice marks them as unclean. 36 This scene has been understudied in all its aspects. Atwood (2005): i, places it at the conceptual center of her Penelopiad. Katz (1991): 132, characterizes the scene as removing the question of chastity away from Penelope by giving it a new location, and Thalmann (1998): 30, builds on this to address questions of women and class in the epic. Most recently, Rodríguez (2017): 102, engages with the scene to show how the text presents the lives of, especially female, slaves as worthless.

affairs. On the other hand, his actions present a problematic divergence from the heroized slaughter which precedes it and gives the audience an opportunity to criticize his actions.

The variegated social, political, and social positions which Telemachus takes in the course of the Odyssey serve not only to highlight his growth from the characteristics associated with childhood to those associated with masculinity and adulthood but also to provide for the audience a model of how one is meant to act in the post-heroic world. He undertakes these roles at different levels of success, but the narrative never represents his attempts to act correctly as morally misguided. Although Odysseus holds the central role in the narrative and Telemachus is often overshadowed by the importance of his father, it is the son with whom external audiences can relate more closely; they experience the same inability to attain the status of the heroic figures in Homer as Telemachus. They can, however, follow his model in the socio-cultural relationships of everyday life.

Chapter Two: Telemachus and Parabolic Narratives of Orestes

The recurrence of the Orestes story in the Odyssey is the subject of several dedicated analyses.37 The frequency of the story, especially in the Telemachy, is remarkable, and each occurrence of the paranarrative functions differently from the others owing to the shifts in content, context, and focalization.38 Of course, these differences necessarily involve the explicit actorial motivation of the secondary narrators who use the story for their own ends; however, this chapter attempts to understand both the implicit motivation of the primary narrator, Homer, and what the use of the story can reveal about the narrative function of Telemachus.39 While previous scholarly endeavors allow for a deeper understanding of the Odyssey and its intertextual relationship with the Orestes story, much about its use remains to be explicated. Here, I take on a part of the process of remedying this oversight by analyzing the embedded story through its narratological presentation and paradigmatic use.40 By highlighting how each narrator uses the story in different contexts, I show that Homer provides multiple contexts for Telemachus and the external audience to engage with and reread the story of Orestes.

In addition to a subtler distinction between actorial and narratorial motivation, I draw on the work of Mark Turner in The Literary Mind.41 Turner presents a framework for understanding

37 For some of these studies, see, D’Arms and Hulley (1946), Olson (1990), and Olson (1995), especially chapter 2. Katz (1991): 21–53 uses the paradigm of the House of Atreus story in a discussion that focuses on Penelope, and Barker and Christensen (2016) discuss the story in the context of Agamemnon’s nostos. 38 Narratives of the story appear at Od. 1.35–44, 1.298–300, 3.193–198, 3.255–312, 4.512–537, 11.409–435, 13.383–385, 24.85–97, and 24.192–202. For a list of all references to the story, see, Olson (1995): 24–25. 39 As Bakker (2009): 134–135 points out, it is necessary to consider the performative nature of the Homeric epics when applying narratological principals. In a performative context, regardless of who the speaker is in direct speech, the primary external narrator takes on the voice of that character and cannot be left out from the analysis. 40 De Jong (2014) 34–37 provides a helpful explanation of the various functions of embedded narratives with a particular focus on Classics. 41 Credit must be given to Joel Christensen for turning my attention to this work and his clear application of the theory. For his use of Turner in relation to leadership and Homeric epic: Christensen (forthcoming).

the cognitive function of parable, which he defines as “a projection of a story.”42 By this definition, the Orestes narrative in the Odyssey functions as a parable. The stories of Orestes and

Agamemnon are projected for internal audiences to grapple with and recognize the blended spaces between their circumstances and the narrative. Turner also explores what happens when parables, or source spaces, do not align with the circumstances of the situations to which they are to be applied, or the target spaces. Turner defines this disjunction as “disanalogy” and argues that

“we do not simply suppress lack of correspondence between source and target. On the contrary, information from the source that does not correspond to the target and cannot be projected onto the target is brought into the blended space exactly so we can understand the difference between the source and the target, and thereby recognize the clash.”43 As we shall see, disanalogy and the failure to apprehend disanalogy have a prevalent position in the uses of the Orestes story and must be considered of central importance to understanding how the narrative creates parabolic meaning.

Before beginning to explore the narrative functions of the Orestes story, it is useful to provide an overview of the contexts in which the major embedded stories occur. The first use coincides with the first instance of character speech in the epic, when Zeus addresses the assembly of the gods and laments that mortals blame the gods for sufferings that are born from their own actions (Od. 1.32–44). Athena briefly relates the story to Telemachus when she comes to him in the guise of Mentes (Od. 1.298–300). Nestor mentions the story twice, once in a way similar to Athena’s story (Od. 3.193–198). He narrates the Orestes story again, when he responds to Telemachus who asks how Agamemnon died and where Menelaus was. Here, he gives far greater detail about the events that transpired before Agamemnon’s return (Od. 3.255–3.312).

42 Turner (1996): 7. 43 Turner (1996): 66.

Menelaus recounts the story of Agamemnon’s nostos in some length, but he hardly mentions

Orestes and does not urge Telemachus to action against the suitors by using the other youth as a paradigm (Od. 4.512–537). The shade of Agamemnon also tells the story in books 11 and 24, but is unaware of how the story ends and the ultimate vengeance of Orestes (Od. 11.405–434,

11.441–461, 24.192–202). Odysseus mentions the story once at Od. 13.383–384 where he acknowledges that the narrative of Agamemnon’s slaughter could have been analogous to the end of his story, if Athena had not aided him.

The first speech of Zeus has received much scholarly attention focusing whether it functions as programmatic for the epic as a whole.44 While the speech certainly does not encapsulate all—or even most—of the themes of the epic, it bears much more significance than a fabricated springboard for Athena to turn the conversation of the council of the gods to

Odysseus. Zeus includes the Orestes story, placing a heavy emphasis on Aegisthus, while lamenting that mortals are the cause of their own troubles (Od. 1.32–43):

ὢ πόποι, οἷον δή νυ θεοὺς βροτοὶ αἰτιόωνται· ἐξ ἡµέων γάρ φασι κάκ᾽ ἔµµεναι, οἱ δὲ καὶ αὐτοὶ σφῇσιν ἀτασθαλίῃσιν ὑπὲρ µόρον ἄλγε᾽ ἔχουσιν, ὡς καὶ νῦν Αἴγισθος ὑπὲρ µόρον Ἀτρεΐδαο γῆµ᾽ ἄλοχον µνηστήν, τὸν δ᾽ ἔκτανε νοστήσαντα, εἰδὼς αἰπὺν ὄλεθρον, ἐπεὶ πρό οἱ εἴποµεν ἡµεῖς, Ἑρµείαν πέµψαντες, ἐύσκοπον ἀργεϊφόντην, µήτ᾽ αὐτὸν κτείνειν µήτε µνάασθαι ἄκοιτιν· ἐκ γὰρ Ὀρέσταο τίσις ἔσσεται Ἀτρεΐδαο, ὁππότ᾽ ἂν ἡβήσῃ τε καὶ ἧς ἱµείρεται αἴης. ὣς ἔφαθ᾽ Ἑρµείας, ἀλλ᾽ οὐ φρένας Αἰγίσθοιο πεῖθ᾽ ἀγαθὰ φρονέων· νῦν δ᾽ ἁθρόα πάντ᾽ ἀπέτισεν.

Alas, how mortals blame the gods. For they say that bad things are from us, but they themselves bring suffering beyond fate by their own recklessness, as even now Aegisthus woos the wedded wife of the son of Atreus beyond fate, and he

44 Some argue that the speech is programmatic, laying out major themes of the epic while others claim that the speech does not reflect the intellectual and moral arguments of the rest of the poem. For a thorough outline of this debate, see Allan (2006).

killed him after he arrived home, although he knew steep death, since we told him before, after sending Hermes, the well-seeing Argus-slayer, that he might not kill him nor woo his wife; for from Orestes there will be vengeance for the son of Atreus, whenever he might become vigorous and desire his land. So spoke Hermes, but he did not persuade the heart of Aegisthus, although he was well- minded. Now he has repaid all things altogether.

The significance of Zeus’ use of the Orestes’ story in the first instance of character speech in the epic heightens the narrative importance of its thematic function throughout the text. The external audience of the epic has been prepared by the prologue (Od. 1.1–21) to hear a story about

Odysseus, his wanderings, and his nostos. While the actorial motivation for the speech has nothing directly to do with Odysseus, the narratorial motivation encourages the audience to pay close attention to the themes which are similar between the two stories.

Olson argues that the audience of an oral performance has no reason, and possibly no ability, to understand the connection between Aegisthus and the suitors or Telemachus and

Orestes. Rather, the audience is much more likely to connect Orestes with Odysseus since they have already heard that when he came to Ithaca “then did he not flee from struggles (ἀέθλων) even among his own people” (Od. 1.18–19).45 Indeed, Odysseus’ desire to return home and the eventual restoration of his household through the slaughter of the suitors bears resemblance to the brief description of Orestes that Zeus provides; however, blended space also occurs between

Agamemnon and Odysseus. The disanalogy between Orestes and Odysseus in the blended space anticipates the introduction of Telemachus in the epic, even though he too does not align completely with the narrative presentations of Orestes.

On the level of actorial motivation, we see that blended space even occurs between

Aegisthus and Odysseus. Here, the parabolic narrative is more useful for its disanalogy. Athena, responding to Zeus’ speech, agrees that Aegisthus has earned his death from his own actions and

45 Olson (1990): 59–60.

directly acknowledges the parabolic potential of Zeus’ story when she calls for the destruction of any man who acts as Aegisthus (Od. 1.45–47). As an internal audience to Zeus’ speech, Athena responds not by applying his paradigm to a similar situation but by providing a disanalogic target. Athena does not simply agree with Zeus’ lamenting to appease him while leading the conversation to Odysseus’ troubles as a non-sequitur. Rather, Athena subverts Zeus’ lament and implies that Odysseus does not suffer because he acts beyond fate but that Zeus causes his troubles (Od. 1.48–62). She directly confronts him, asking, “Why now do you hate him so greatly?” (τί νύ οἱ τόσον ὠδύσαο, Ζεῦ; Od. 1.62).46 Zeus accepts this disanalogy, but not

Athena’s interpretation; he places emphasis on Poseidon’s role in the troubles of Odysseus (Od.

1.68).47 From its earliest mention, then, the Orestes story not only takes a prominent position in the thematic exposition of the epic but also introduces several disanalogies in the blended space to define how Odysseus’ narrative—and, by association, the narrative of the Telemachy—differs from the narratives of divine retribution and of other nostoi.

The first book of the Odyssey makes the importance of Telemachus’ journey and development central, even before his character appears in the action of the poem. After Zeus calls on the gods to consider a path for Odysseus’ return (Od. 1.76–79), Athena first details her plan for Telemachus (Od. 1.89–95):

αὐτὰρ ἐγὼν Ἰθάκηνδ᾽ ἐσελεύσοµαι, ὄφρα οἱ υἱὸν µᾶλλον ἐποτρύνω καί οἱ µένος ἐν φρεσὶ θείω, εἰς ἀγορὴν καλέσαντα κάρη κοµόωντας Ἀχαιοὺς πᾶσι µνηστήρεσσιν ἀπειπέµεν, οἵ τέ οἱ αἰεὶ µῆλ᾽ ἁδινὰ σφάζουσι καὶ εἰλίποδας ἕλικας βοῦς. πέµψω δ᾽ ἐς Σπάρτην τε καὶ ἐς Πύλον ἠµαθόεντα νόστον πευσόµενον πατρὸς φίλου, ἤν που ἀκούσῃ,

46 On the significance of the pun of ὠδύσαο and the name of Odysseus, see Peradotto (1990): 129–134; Kanavou (2015): 92. 47 Zeus recounts in brief the story of the cyclops as the cause for Poseidon’s anger, but he ends his speech by returning to divine interference, rather than remaining focused on the actions of Odysseus, as his first speech might suggest.

ἠδ᾽ ἵνα µιν κλέος ἐσθλὸν ἐν ἀνθρώποισιν ἔχῃσιν.

But I will go to Ithaca, so I might urge his son more and put strength in his heart to call the long-haired Achaeans to assembly and to address all of the suitors, who always kill his densely crowded sheep and his rambling cattle with twisted horns. I will send him to Sparta and to sandy Pylos in order to learn about the homecoming of his dear father, if he might hear somehow, and so that he might have good kleos among men.

This speech acknowledges Telemachus and his journey as the subject of the following books as well as introducing the theme of Telemachus’ kleos which underpins Athena’s and Nestor’s later uses of the Orestes narrative. Yet the means by which Telemachus might have this kleos are convoluted at best at this point in the narrative.48 Rose uses Athena’s instructional speech to

Telemachus (Od. 1.79–96) to argue that the kleos comes not primarily from the journey but from the revenge he will take on the suitors regardless of whether his father is alive or dead.49 While the exact means by which Telemachus will obtain kleos may be debatable, the fact that he must find a way to establish his position in society becomes a central theme of the Telemachy and the

Ithacan cycle more broadly.50

Athena’s first use of the Orestes story in her conversations with Telemachus encourages him to take on the task of destroying the suitors himself so that he might gain kleos. She, in the guise of Mentes, recommends that Telemachus go to visit Nestor and Menelaus to hear any news of his father so that he can either continue to wait for his nostos or return and perform funeral rites (Od. 1.271–292). When detailing what he should do after this journey, Athena invokes the story of Orestes (Od. 1.295–302):

αὐτὰρ ἐπὴν δὴ ταῦτα τελευτήσῃς τε καὶ ἕρξῃς, φράζεσθαι δὴ ἔπειτα κατὰ φρένα καὶ κατὰ θυµόν,

48 Kleos in the Odyssey has a broad domain. de Jong (2001): 228 argues that it can come from a variety of sources including “adventurous trips” and “martial feats.” 49 Rose (1967): 393–394. Jones (1988), however, disagrees, pointing to Athena’s explanation to Odysseus in book 13 where she states that she sent him “so that he might take good kleos while going there” (Od. 13.422–423) to argue that the journey itself is the means by which he will get kleos. 50 For a thorough examination of the role of kleos in the Telemachy, see Petropoulos (2011).

ὅππως κε µνηστῆρας ἐνὶ µεγάροισι τεοῖσι κτείνῃς ἠὲ δόλῳ ἢ ἀµφαδόν· οὐδέ τί σε χρὴ νηπιάας ὀχέειν, ἐπεὶ οὐκέτι τηλίκος ἐσσί. ἦ οὐκ ἀΐεις οἷον κλέος ἔλλαβε δῖος Ὀρέστης πάντας ἐπ' ἀνθρώπους, ἐπεὶ ἔκτανε πατροφονῆα, Αἴγισθον δολόµητιν, ὅ οἱ πατέρα κλυτὸν ἔκτα; καὶ σύ, φίλος, µάλα γάρ σ' ὁρόω καλόν τε µέγαν τε, ἄλκιµος ἔσσ', ἵνα τίς σε καὶ ὀψιγόνων ἐῢ εἴπῃ.

But when you complete these things and do them, then consider throughout your mind and heart how you might kill the suitors in your halls, either by trick or openly; there is not need for you to act as a child, since you are no longer that age. Or do you not hear what sort of kleos divine Orestes took among all mankind, when he killed the father-slayer, wily Aegisthus, who killed his glorious father? And you, friend, for I see that you are exceedingly beautiful and big, be brave, so that one of the younger people might speak well of you.

She introduces the narrative by encouraging him to put aside childish behavior (νηπιάας) which she claims is unbecoming for a person of his age. Then, she builds on her earlier exhortation that

Telemachus ought to consider how he might deal with the problem of the suitors in his halls regardless of the fate of his father (Od. 1.269–270). By invoking the story of Orestes, she provides a model for the sort of action that the youth might take against the suitors. Unlike the first narration of the story, Athena focalizes through Orestes, by repeatedly using marked language of paternal relationship (πατροφονῆα, πατέρα) and shading her description of

Aegisthus as wily (δολόµητιν).51 Athena crafts her narrative so that Telemachus is the target, replacing the ambiguity of where blended space occurs in Zeus’ narrative.

Athena herself provides a clearer definition of kleos for Telemachus and the external audience. When she introduces the Orestes narrative, she inextricably connects kleos with verbs of hearing and speaking with the use of ἀΐεις and εἴπῃ. Moreover, when she reaches her exhortation, Athena provides an indefinite agent for the production of kleos (τίς…ὀψιγόνων).

51 δολόµητις is only used of Aegisthus and once of Clytemnestra in the Odyssey, further heightening this word’s function as a focalizer.

These final two lines not only reaffirm that Telemachus must take action against the suitors to attain kleos, but they are also an instance of metalepsis—a narrative device where the normal boundary between the character world and the world of the narrator is transgressed.52 Athena crosses this boundary by encouraging Telemachus to perform an action which will lead to the song in which she encourages him. The performers and external audiences of epic poetry themselves are those “younger people” who might—and in fact do—speak well of Telemachus.

The metapoetic nature of Athena’s—and later Nestor’s—command to Telemachus encourages the audience to examine the blended space between themselves and Telemachus.

The paradigm of Orestes in Athena’s narration, however, does not present an entirely accurate analogy for Telemachus’ situation. While the suitors are frequently presented as transgressing the normal boundaries of hospitality and represent a destructive force in the household (e.g. Od. 1.160, 11.116, 13.296), Telemachus’ father has not died and, even if

Telemachus believes he has, the suitors were not the cause of Odysseus’ death.53 Narrative imagining through parable draws attention to the difference between Telemachus as the target and Orestes as the source, and this disanalogy signals to the audience—from the earliest suggestion that Telemachus should destroy the suitors and take for himself the type of kleos that

Orestes attains—that the two stories cannot end in the same way. Before Odysseus enters the action of the epic, the audience sees that his nostos will be different from those with which they may have been familiar.

Telemachus, however, attempts to assimilate his situation to that of the source narrative by asserting that his father has died. Despite Athena explicitly leaving the matter open in her

52 For a more detailed discussion of the manifold ways in which metalepsis can occur with a specific focus on ancient texts, see de Jong (2009). 53 On the crimes of the suitors, see, Bakker (2013): 43–47. On the differences between the Odyssey and the folk motif of suitors and the child of a lost husband, see, Alden (1987).

instructions to Telemachus, he errs in assuming that the target and source must align for the parabolic process to function. Telemachus first claims that Odysseus is already dead after

Penelope requests that the bard Phemius stop singing about the “mournful homecoming of the

Achaeans” (Od. 1.325–344). In response, Telemachus rebukes his mother and explains that “not only Odysseus lost his homecoming day in Troy, but many other men also died” (οὐ γὰρ

Ὀδυσσεὺς οἶος ἀπώλεσε νόστιµον ἦµαρ / ἐν Τροίῃ, πολλοὶ δὲ καὶ ἄλλοι φῶτες ὄλοντο. Od.

1.354–355). The claim that his father has perished allows Telemachus to test his ability to claim authority, which is especially evident in his assertion that “speech will be a care for all men, especially for me, for the power in this house is mine” (µῦθος δ᾿ ἄνδρεσσι µελήσει / πᾶσι,

µάλιστα δ᾿ ἐµοί· τοῦ γὰρ κράτος ἔστ᾿ ἐνὶ οἴκῳ. Od. 1.358–359).54 Telemachus recognizes that his lack of surety concerning his father’s death is a fundamental difference between his situation and the story of Orestes. By affirming to both his audience and himself that his father has died, even though he is uncertain, Telemachus creates the temporary conditions through which he can exert authority over his mother.55

A similar assertion occurs when Antinous responds to Telemachus’ attempt to exert authority over the suitors by ordering them to come to assembly the next morning (Od. 1.368–

380). Antinous comments on his newly acquired ability in public speaking and prays that “the son of Cronus might not make [him] king in seagirt Ithaca, which is [his] paternal inheritance by birth” (µὴ σέ γ᾿ ἐν ἀµφιάλῳ Ἰθάκῃ βασιλῆα Κρονίων / ποιήσειεν, ὅ τοι γενεῇ πατρώιόν ἐστιν.

54 Here again, metalepsis occurs when Telemachus becomes an auditor of poetry and observes its power to preserve kleos. Pucci (1987) 203–204 claims that the audience is “invited to feel the same admiration for the Homeric song that Telemachus feels for Phemius’, since Telemachus’ response is the one Homer proposes as the ideal response of the reader.” 55 On this passage as an authoritative speech act, see Martin (1993): 236, supported by his analysis of µῦθος in Martin (1989). Clark (2001) refines the analysis of the use of µῦθος by complicating its use, particularly in the Odyssey.

Od. 1.386–387). Telemachus' response once again serves to create a socio-political situation in which he can claim authority (Od. 1.394–398):

ἀλλ᾿ ἦ τοι βασιλῆες Ἀχαιῶν εἰσὶ καὶ ἄλλοι πολλοὶ ἐν ἀµφιάλῳ Ἰθάκῃ, νέοι ἠδὲ παλαιοί, τῶν κέν τις τόδ᾿ ἔχῃσιν, ἐπεὶ θάνε δῖος Ὀδυσσεύς· αὐτὰρ ἐγὼν οἴκοιο ἄναξ ἔσοµ᾿ ἡµετέροιο καὶ δµώων, οὕς µοι ληίσσατο δῖος Ὀδυσσεύς.

But surely there are many other kings in seagirt Ithaca, young and old, one of these might hold this, since divine Odysseus died, but I will be lord of our house and slaves, which divine Odysseus plundered for me.

By claiming that his father is dead, Telemachus concedes that one of the other Ithacans might be able to take political control of the island, but he also takes authority over his domestic possessions. In separating his personal possessions from the socio-political position of his father,

Telemachus claims control over these items; thus, he assimilates the actions of the suitors, who take the possessions of a man who is away from home, to the actions of Aegisthus which both permitted and necessitated his murder.

In the case of the suitors mapping onto the model of Aegisthus in the blend, Telemachus is willing to embrace the rather patent disanalogies and effectively uptake this story. Unlike the story of Orestes, Telemachus faces several usurpers who have not completed their pursuit of his mother and who have not murdered his father. While Telemachus refuses to openly embrace disanalogic aspects of the story when it comes to the presence and death of his father, he demonstrates the ability to effectively apply the paradigm through disanalogy in the case of the suitors. Through this, the external audience views both effective and ineffective engagement with parabolic narrative within the context of the application of the same story.

Telemachus’ first stop in his journey in search of information about and knowledge of his father is Pylos.56 Here, Nestor converses with him and recounts to the young man the stories of a number of homecomings, at the end of which he presents the first of his two narrations of the

Orestes story. Unlike previous tellings, Nestor does not include the name of Orestes and mentions Agamemnon only once and only by his patronymic (Od. 3.193–200):

Ἀτρεΐδην δὲ καὶ αὐτοὶ ἀκούετε, νόσφιν ἐόντες, ὥς τ᾿ ἦλθ᾿, ὥς τ᾿ Αἴγισθος ἐµήσατο λυγρὸν ὄλεθρον. ἀλλ᾿ ἦ τοι κεῖνος µὲν ἐπισµυγερῶς ἀπέτισεν· ὡς ἀγαθὸν καὶ παῖδα καταφθιµένοιο λιπέσθαι ἀνδρός, ἐπεὶ καὶ κεῖνος ἐτίσατο πατροφονῆα, Αἴγισθον δολόµητιν, ὅ οἱ πατέρα κλυτὸν ἔκτα. καὶ σύ, φίλος, µάλα γάρ σ᾿ ὁρόω καλόν τε µέγαν τε, ἄλκιµος ἔσσ᾿, ἵνα τίς σε καὶ ὀψιγόνων ἐὺ εἴπῃ.

And you yourselves heard about the son of Atreus, although you live far away, how he came and how Aegisthus devised mournful death. But surely that man atoned terribly; thus, it is good to leave behind a son when a man dies, since that one took vengeance on the father-slayer, wily Aegisthus, who killed his glorious father. And you, friend, for I see that you are exceedingly beautiful and big, be brave, so that one of the younger people might speak well of you.

While the content of this speech is closely similar to Athena’s in book 1 the exclusion of

Orestes’ name encourages Telemachus as the internal narratee to project himself on this story even more freely than in the previous narratives. The repeated use of language related to family

(παῖδα, πατροφονῆα, πατέρα) creates a more fluid blend between Orestes and Telemachus, but it is not enough. Telemachus still cannot overcome the disanalogy between himself and Orestes.

He laments that he is unable to take vengeance on the suitors because the gods have not given him the ability (Od. 3.202–210). When Nestor rebuts this with a suggestion that Odysseus may still return and exact a penalty on the suitors (Od. 3.211–224), Telemachus gives a pessimistic

56 Peradotto (1990): 117 claims that Telemachus functions as a kind of audience surrogate thorough this search because he needs to obtain “not simply information about, but an identifying description of the father he knows literally only by name, which is to say not at all, since without an identifying description that name or any name is useless.”

answer, claiming that he does not hope for it, not even if the gods willed it (οὐκ ἂν ἐµοί γε /

ἐλποµένῳ τὰ γένοιτ᾿οὐδ᾿ εἰ θεοὶ ὣς ἐθέλοιεν. Od. 3.227–228). Athena, in the likeness of Mentor, remonstrates with Telemachus for saying these things, and in his response, he once again asserts that his father has died (Od. 3.240–242):

Μέντορ, µηκέτι ταῦτα λεγώµεθα κηδόµενοί περ· κείνῳ δ᾿ οὐκέτι νόστος ἐτήτυµος, ἀλλά οἱ ἤδη φράσσαντ᾿ ἀθάνατοι θάνατον καὶ κῆρα µέλαιναν.

Mentor, let us speak about these things no longer although we grieve. There is no longer a true homecoming for him, but the deathless ones already decided death and black fate for him.

Telemachus continues the process of assimilating his story to that of Orestes in the domains where he refuses to embrace disanalogy. While he cannot grant himself the strength necessary to overtake the suitors, he can assume that his father has died to begin the process of making himself fit the mold provided in the Orestes narratives.

The narrators who present the parabolic story to Telemachus create narratives at each presentation that lessen the disanalogy between Orestes and Telemachus and encourage him to apply the story to his own situation. Nestor’s second narration of the Orestes’ story comes after

Telemachus asks him how Agamemnon died and if Menelaus was not there to prevent it. While

Telemachus attempts to bring himself closer to Orestes in the blended space, he seeks another model for action.57 Nestor then launches into the most extended of the embedded narratives.

After a thorough description of Aegisthus’ actions and the wanderings of Menelaus (Od. 3.254–

302), he turns to Orestes’ actions and Menelaus’ late arrival at Mycenae (Od. 3.303–316):

τόφρα δὲ ταῦτ᾽ Αἴγισθος ἐµήσατο οἴκοθι λυγρά. ἑπτάετες δ᾽ ἤνασσε πολυχρύσοιο Μυκήνης, κτείνας Ἀτρεΐδην, δέδµητο δὲ λαὸς ὑπ᾽ αὐτῷ. τῷ δέ οἱ ὀγδοάτῳ κακὸν ἤλυθε δῖος Ὀρέστης

57 Cf. Murnaghan (2002): 148.

ἂψ ἀπ᾽ Ἀθηνάων, κατὰ δ᾽ ἔκτανε πατροφονῆα, Αἴγισθον δολόµητιν, ὅ οἱ πατέρα κλυτὸν ἔκτα. ἦ τοι ὁ τὸν κτείνας δαίνυ τάφον Ἀργείοισιν µητρός τε στυγερῆς καὶ ἀνάλκιδος Αἰγίσθοιο· αὐτῆµαρ δέ οἱ ἦλθε βοὴν ἀγαθὸς Μενέλαος πολλὰ κτήµατ᾽ ἄγων, ὅσα οἱ νέες ἄχθος ἄειραν. καὶ σύ, φίλος, µὴ δηθὰ δόµων ἄπο τῆλ᾽ ἀλάλησο, κτήµατά τε προλιπὼν ἄνδρας τ᾽ ἐν σοῖσι δόµοισιν οὕτω ὑπερφιάλους, µή τοι κατὰ πάντα φάγωσιν κτήµατα δασσάµενοι, σὺ δὲ τηϋσίην ὁδὸν ἔλθῃς.

Meanwhile, Aegisthus intended these mournful things at home. He was ruling Mycenae, rich in gold, for seven years after he killed the son of Atreus and the people had been subjected under him. In the eighth year, godlike Orestes came back from Athens, and he killed the father-slayer, wily Aegisthus, who killed his glorious father. Indeed, after he killed him, he was giving a funeral feast to the Argives for his hateful mother and the cowardly Aegisthus, and on the same day, Menelaus, good at the war cry, came while bringing much wealth, however great a burden the ships carried. And you, friend, do not wander far off from home for a long time, while leaving your wealth and men in your house, so arrogant, lest they gobble up all your wealth after they divide it up, and you go on a fruitless journey.

The additional details of this narrative bring Telemachus closer to the source and build toward the altered final exhortation. Previously, as we have seen, Athena and Nestor each called upon

Telemachus to be brave so that others may speak well of him, like Orestes (Od. 1.301–302;

3.199–200). In this speech, however, Nestor stresses the absent figures in the embedded narrative and ends by cautioning Telemachus not to remain away for too long a time. Here, there is an even more direct call for Telemachus to project the source narrative onto himself, and Nestor encourages Telemachus to blend the roles of Orestes and Menelaus by including the formulaic description of Orestes’ murder of Aegisthus but connecting his exhortation to Menelaus’ absence. The disanalogy remains, but the internal narrators of the Orestes story pressure

Telemachus to notice the differences and pursue action based on the parable.

Telemachus' conversation with Menelaus in book 4 provides the final appearance of the

Orestes theme in the Telemachy, and the completion of the narrative holds symbolic meaning for

the instructive example which Telemachus receives. Menelaus only fleetingly mentions Orestes in his relation of the events; however, he provides the final, necessary portion of the narrative when he tells that he himself "heaped a tomb for Agamemnon, so that his kleos might be inextinguishable" (χεῦ᾽ Ἀγαµέµνονι τύµβον, ἵν᾽ ἄσβεστον κλέος εἴη. Od. 4.584). If

Agamemnon's role in the story is transferred to Odysseus, Menelaus' addition to the story dictates a possible end of Telemachus' story as well. After ridding his house of the problematic suitors, he must honor his father and preserve Odysseus’ kleos. Menelaus’ address to

Telemachus at the end of his extended embedded narrative differs starkly from those of Athena and Nestor. Rather than giving a command directly related to his situation in Ithaca, Menelaus urges Telemachus to remember him (Od. 4.587–592):

ἀλλ᾽ ἄγε νῦν ἐπίµεινον ἐνὶ µεγάροισιν ἐµοῖσιν, ὄφρα κεν ἑνδεκάτη τε δυωδεκάτη τε γένηται· καὶ τότε σ᾽ εὖ πέµψω, δώσω δέ τοι ἀγλαὰ δῶρα, τρεῖς ἵππους καὶ δίφρον ἐύξοον· αὐτὰρ ἔπειτα δώσω καλὸν ἄλεισον, ἵνα σπένδῃσθα θεοῖσιν ἀθανάτοις ἐµέθεν µεµνηµένος ἤµατα πάντα.

But come now delay in my halls until the eleventh or twelfth day comes, and then I will send you well, and I will give you shining gifts, three horses and a polished chariot; but then I will give a good cup, so that you might pour libations to the immortal gods while remembering me for all days.

Menelaus’ command to Telemachus focuses on how the youth will contribute to his own kleos by remembering him on his return home. On the level of actorial motivation, Menelaus is more self-centered than Telemachus’ previous interlocutors. He aids Telemachus at least partly so he can gain the benefit of libations being poured in his memory. The narratorial motivation of this command, however, recalls Menelaus’ earlier narration of his preservation of Agamemnon’s

kleos.58 Both Telemachus as the internal audience and the external audience are encouraged to remember how the performance of ritual can secure the kleos of those who have died and those who preserve their memory.

While the narratives present in the Telemachy tend toward focusing on the death of

Aegisthus and the vengeance attained by Orestes, the narratives which occur in the remaining books instead highlight the death of Agamemnon and the treachery of Aegisthus and

Clytemnestra. These narratives are almost exclusively told by the shade of Agamemnon, with

Odysseus mentioning the story once on his return home (Od. 13.383–385). The shift in the content of these speeches reflects the changing emphasis of the epic after the Telemachy. While the thematic content of the Orestes story in the rest of the poem remains centered on the possibility of familial betrayal and the acquisition and maintenance of kleos, Homer focalizes through Odysseus following his introduction to the primary action of the narrative, necessitating a shift in the focalization of the embedded narratives of the Orestes story, as well. The narratorial motivation for the presence of the Orestes story following the Telemachy seems more clearly obvious because the external audience is invited to notice and embrace the stark disanalogies between Agamemnon and Odysseus.

The first mention of the story after the Telemachy occurs during the nekyia in book 11.

Through the narration of Odysseus to the Phaeacians, Agamemnon tells the story of his demise primarily focusing on the treachery of his wife and Aegisthus (Od. 11.405–434). Later, he advises Odysseus to beware sharing too much information with his wife, but he also expresses hope that Odysseus will see Telemachus (Od. 11.441–451). From here, he turns back to grieving his own situation and asks for information about his son (Od. 11.452–461):

58 In addition to this, de Jong (2001): 111–112 points out that Homer needs to keep Telemachus away from Ithaca until Odysseus returns home.

ἡ δ᾽ ἐµὴ οὐδέ περ υἷος ἐνιπλησθῆναι ἄκοιτις ὀφθαλµοῖσιν ἔασε· πάρος δέ µε πέφνε καὶ αὐτόν. ἄλλο δέ τοι ἐρέω, σὺ δ᾽ ἐνὶ φρεσὶ βάλλεο σῇσιν· κρύβδην, µηδ᾽ ἀναφανδά, φίλην ἐς πατρίδα γαῖαν νῆα κατισχέµεναι· ἐπεὶ οὐκέτι πιστὰ γυναιξίν. ἀλλ᾽ ἄγε µοι τόδε εἰπὲ καὶ ἀτρεκέως κατάλεξον, εἴ που ἔτι ζώοντος ἀκούετε παιδὸς ἐµοῖο, ἤ που ἐν Ὀρχοµενῷ ἢ ἐν Πύλῳ ἠµαθόεντι, ἤ που πὰρ Μενελάῳ ἐνὶ Σπάρτῃ εὐρείῃ· οὐ γάρ πω τέθνηκεν ἐπὶ χθονὶ δῖος Ὀρέστης.

But my wife did not permit me to satiate my eyes with my son, before she slew me, even myself. But I will tell you another thing, and you may put it in your heart: secretly, not visibly, bring your ship to your dear fatherland, since there is no longer trust in women. But come, tell me this and recount it precisely, whether you hear that my son still lives, or if he is in Orchomenus, or in sandy Pylos, or at the house of Menelaus in wide Sparta; for godlike Orestes has not yet perished on earth.

Agamemnon’s concern for the fate of his child performs several functions within the narrative.

Because of the refocalization through Odysseus, the anxiety about kleos no longer focuses how the child of a hero can preserve the kleos of his father and create his own. Rather, the narrative highlights the problem of unawareness for those who are dead, in the case of Agamemnon, and absent, in the case of Odysseus. Odysseus presents the narrative to encourage his internal narratees to project the story of Agamemnon onto his own and to recognize the disanalogy between the two. Like Agamemnon, Odysseus is not yet aware what the fate of his kleos is because he does not know what the fates of his household and child are. Unlike Agamemnon, however, Odysseus lives and can still end his story with certainty about the status of his kleos.

He rouses the pity of his audience by presenting a possible outcome for his story if he does not return home in a timely manner.

The influence of Odysseus as the secondary narrator of this story is further clarified in book 24, where Agamemnon tells the story of his fate twice (Od. 24.95–97; 24.192–202).

Agamemnon compares his fate to Achilles and Odysseus and laments that he was killed by his

wife and her suitor. In neither case does he mention Orestes or express direct concern for his kleos. Odysseus’ framing of the story in the nekiya, therefore, seems to influence of the content of the story to create a narrative that more closely reflects and juxtaposes his situation for the internal narratees.

What, then, can the uses of the Orestes story in the Odyssey reveal about Telemachus’ ideological space in the poem? Martin makes a connection between the external audience of the poem and Telemachus as an internal audience of the story of Odysseus. He argues that

Telemachus “is like us, and we are like him, both in the position of audience for the heroic past.”59 The frequent narratological focalization of the Ithacan sequence through Telemachus emphasizes his role as a figure to whom the audience can connect. He is a metonymical figure for the end of the heroic age, and his grappling with the stories of Orestes illuminate the problems of epic transmission by those who cannot imitate the heroic actions of earlier generations. Murnaghan complicates Martin’s position and posits that we must grapple with

Telemachus both as an internal audience and an active agent whose story and actions demand attention.60 This provides a key insight for understanding the function of Telemachus’ role in the narrative. Telemachus serves as a figure onto which the audience can project themselves in the blended space of the narrative and as a paradigm for how such projection can take place.

The prominent position of the Telemachy can, in part, be explained as an educative model for the external narratees through which they learn how to hear the poem. By seeing

Telemachus becoming the audience of his own epic and learning from paradigms, the audience recognizes the similarity between themselves and Telemachus. However, they must also engage critically the actions of the youth. Telemachus functions not only to teach the audience how

59 Martin (1993): 239. 60 Murnaghan (2002): 141.

those in the post-heroic age can gain kleos by hearing stories of the heroic age and applying those stories to their lives but also to demonstrate how the process of applying these paradigmatic stories can fail.

Homer presents Telemachus as a flawed audience of epic poetry when he hears the

Orestes story. Telemachus cannot fully understand the implications of the blended space because of his unwillingness to apply the disanalogic aspects of the source space to himself as the target.

Odysseus’ reference to the narrative when he returns home (Od. 13.383–385) and his use of

Agamemnon’s narrative in his relation of the nekyia (Od. 11.405–434; 11.441–461) highlight and make productive use of the disanalogy. The audience is encouraged to embrace disanalogies in the parabolic process throughout the epic by recognizing how Telemachus’ failure to do the same prevents his ability to take action without his father. The audience also sees, on the other hand, Odysseus accomplishing an unlikely nostos by understanding and employing parables on account of their disanalogies.

Surveying the Orestes story in the Odyssey reveals the wide-ranging functions of the paradigm. Characters use the story to advance arguments about what individuals ought to do by focalizing the narrative through different characters and emphasizing varying points in their narratives. Homer, however, as the primary narrator, embeds each of these uses into the fabric of the epic as a whole to create broader meaning for the external audience of the poem. As the narrative unfolds, the external audience must grapple with the varied blended spaces presented by the embedded story of Agamemnon’s death and Orestes’ vengeance. By observing how each figure uses or fails to use the narratives, the audience is educated in how to be a good audience of epic poetry.

Chapter Three: Telemachus after the Odyssey

In the earlier chapters of this thesis, I have considered the role of Telemachus in Homer, both in the plot of the poem and in the cultural contexts of its external audiences. The question of what happens to Telemachus after the Odyssey, in terms of both the mythological stories surrounding his character and how later authors deal with the character, still demands attention.

Despite the prominence of Telemachus in the Odyssey, however, there is very little evidence of his presence in the rest of extant Greek literature. While Orestes and Neoptolemus play prominent roles in several tragedies and seem to have a major presence in the lost poems of the

Epic Cycle, the story of Telemachus appears to have been much less enticing for reinterpreting and retelling by later authors than his post-heroic comparators.

What modern readers have left of Telemachus’ literary representation after Homer is scant and fragmentary, and the most significant of the attested works in which Telemachus appeared is the Telegony, a lost poem of the Epic Cycle.61 There is a dearth of information about the composition and content of the Telegony, with only a handful of fragments and brief, and rather shocking, summaries. Telemachus also appears in the fragmentary sources of ancient mythography in three primary contexts: summaries of his life following the end of the Odyssey, drawing from the now-lost Telegony, the narrative preserved from the Diary of Diktys of Crete, and genealogies in which the offspring of Telemachus play either minor roles in other mythological stories or major roles in variant traditions of major mythology. Additionally, fragments detail—or at least hint at—how later authors employed other post-heroic sons in their writings.

61 Scholarship dedicated to the Telegony is scant due largely to its brief nature. On the Epic Cycle more broadly, see Allen (1908), Griffin (1977), Burgess (2001), and West (2013).

This chapter explores the varied afterlives of Telemachus with two goals in mind. First, I examine how Telemachus appears in later sources and in what contexts authors employ his character and build on Homeric and non-Homeric mythological traditions by surveying the majority of his post-Homeric appearances. Second, I problematize my own reading of

Telemachus as an audience surrogate which I present in chapter two of this thesis by questioning how ancient authors uptake—or fail to uptake—that reading.

The authorship of the Telegony is attributed to Eugammon of Cyrene by Eusebius in the

Chronica and by Proclus.62 The summary of the two-book epic provided by Proclus goes broadly as follows: After the suitors are buried by their families, Odysseus performs sacrifices in various cities and marries Kallidikes, the daughter of the king of the Thesprotians, with whom he fights a war. Ares routs the men of Odysseus, and Athena fights beside Odysseus. Following the death of

Kallidikes, the son of Odysseus, Polypoetes, succeeds to the throne, and Odysseus returns to

Ithaca; meanwhile, Telegonos goes to Ithaca in search of his father, and Odysseus is killed by his son through ignorance. After learning his mistake, he brings the body of his father, Telemachus, and Penelope to his mother, Circe. She makes them immortal; Telegonos marries Penelope, and

Telemachus marries Circe.63 Hyginus in the Fabulae expands on the end of the story slightly in his briefer summary, including that Telegonos sets up a grave for Odysseus on Circe’s island and that Telegonos and Telemachus marry Penelope and Circe under the advice of Athena.64

This summary may strike modern readers as remarkably strange, likely due in part to its brief and laconic nature. Telemachus’ role in the story as presented by Proclus is minor and confusing without the full context of the story. If we take the view that the Telegony was a late

62 Bernabé (1987): 100–101. For more on the attribution of authorship of the poem and its relatively late dating, see Burgess (2001): 11. 63 Procl. Chrest. 306 from Bernabé (1987): 101–103. 64 Hygin. Fab. 127 from Bernabé (1987): 103. Of course, Hyginus uses the Latinate names, but preserve Greek names for clarity.

addition to the Epic Cycle, however, it is possible to read the story as a method for the composer to resolve for his audience the anxieties produced by the narrative of the Odyssey. The problems posed by the character of Telemachus as he appears in the Odyssey are whisked away in an ending that skirts the issues of his father’s remarkable non-conformity by removing Telemachus and Telegonos from the traditional mythological family cycle. Telemachus’ immortality resolves the issue of his removal from the economy of kleos by removing the necessity for him to attain kleos. The presence of Athena’s influence in the marriage of the sons matches her goals in the opening books of the Odyssey—to help Telemachus deal with the issues of gaining kleos.65

Telemachus’ marriage to a famous, in this case divine, woman contributes to resolving the problems surrounding his kleos.

The story attested in the summaries of the Telegony provides only one of the multiform mythological stories surrounding Telemachus’ life after the events of the Odyssey. While the

Epic Cycle lends itself to resolving the problem of Telemachus’ ability to gain kleos through divine intervention, later sources break away from Homeric tradition and exclude the presence of divine figures in their retellings of myths. These sources provide another glimpse at how

Telemachus’ problematic position in the narrative can be approached. The extended narrative of

Telemachus’ post-Odyssean life in the Diary of Diktys of Crete grants Telemachus a more traditional path to kleos.

The Diary is preserved largely by a fourth-century CE Latin translation and sixth-century

CE Greek fragments and testimonia from Joannes Malalas in the Chronographia.66 The self- proclaimed fanciful origin of the story reflects the content of the story. According to Malalas,

65 Hyginus fails to mention that Circe immortalizes the other characters (Hygin. Fab. 127). Whether this omission is indicative of a variant tradition in which the immortalization does not happen or is a side effect of the brevity of the summaries cannot be certainly stated. 66 On Diktys and the Diary more broadly, see Dowden (2009) who also provides an overview of earlier scholarship.

Diktys truthfully tells the stories of the Greeks who fought at Troy because he was a witness to the events of the war since he was present as a scribe of Idomeneus (Chronographia, 5.10-11).

The work was said to be discovered in his grave on Crete and brought to the Emperor Nero who ordered it translated into Latin (Chronographia, 10.28). The composition of this work and the way in which it was produced and came to Latin and the hands of Malalas raise concern for the interpretation of when and where these traditions were available and believed.

Jonathan Burgess positions Diktys and other authors of his kind as “anti-Homerist” writers “who purport to give a realistic ‘correct’ view of the war” and describes their work as

“self-consciously sophisticated, exuberantly inventive, and perversely idiosyncratic.”67 As such, he uses their work only as a source of quellenforschung since their topics likely draw in part on the lost poems of the Epic Cycle. While this approach serves the purposes of his study, avoiding posing any interpretive questions on the texts severely limits our ability to engage with the ancient re-interpretive tradition. I do not claim to take the narratives of Diktys as indicative of how a majority of or even a significant portion of ancient audiences responded to Telemachus or thought of his afterlife; however, they can uncover how at least one tradition following Homer dealt with the character of Telemachus and the problems presented by his position in the

Odyssey.

Diktys’ account is rich and contests much of what is present in the Homeric version of the story. The severe divergences between what is present of Diktys’ Telemachus story and that of Homer begin when Odysseus arrives at the island of the Phaeacians. Rather than tell the

Phaeacians his story, Odysseus learns about the suitors from them and sends spies to Ithaca who tell the suitors that he has died. When the spies report back to Odysseus, he travels with Alcinous

67 Burgess (2001): 45.

and the Phaeacians to Ithaca, secretly informs Telemachus of his identity, and slaughters the suitors. Following the defeat of the suitors, Odysseus regains his position at Ithaca, and

Telemachus is married to Alcinous’ daughter Nausicaa. The lack of the traditional pillars of the

Homeric myth of Odysseus, namely the prolonged disguise and the contest of the bow, mark the first of a series of interesting variants present in this account; however, up to this point, the social positions of Telemachus reflect those presented in the Odyssey. He learns the identity of his father who comes pretending to be someone else and participates with his father in the slaughter of the suitors.

Diktys’ narrative does not include the amnesty; instead, Odysseus and Telemachus fight against the families of the suitors, and Telemachus shows his strength in battle (Chronographia,

5.21.5):68

µετὰ δὲ τοῦτο οἱ τῶν µνηστήρων ἴδιοι καὶ φίλοι ἀκηκοότες τὸ γεγονὸς καὶ θυµοῦ πλησθέντες ἐπιστρατεύουσι κατὰ ᾽Οδυσσέως καὶ Τηλεµάχου ἐν τῆι ᾽Ιθάκηι. οἱ δὲ περὶ ᾽Οδυσσέα καὶ Τηλέµαχον ὁπλισάµενοι ἀπαντῶσιν ἔξω τῆς πόλεως, καὶ γενοµένης µάχης κραταιᾶς πίπτουσιν οἱ ὑπὲρ τῶν µνηστήρων πολεµήσαντες ἀριστεύοντος τοῦ Τηλεµάχου.

After this, the kin and loved ones of the suitors, after they heard what happened and since they were full of anger, set out against Odysseus and Telemachus in Ithaca. Those with Odysseus and Telemachus met them outside the city after readying themselves for battle, and when the mighty fight happened, those fighting for the suitors fell, while Telemachus had an aristeia.

The removal of the amnesty from the story of the Odyssey provides an opportunity for

Telemachus to be masculinized through his prowess in a traditional battle sequence. Because the slaughter of the suitors, in both versions of the story, occurs in secret, Telemachus cannot gain the kleos typically available to those participating in warfare. His success in participating in the destruction of the suitors and the restoration of his household is tainted both by the focalization

68 = BNJ 49 F 10.5

through his father and its furtive nature. Homer does not provide a path toward kleos for

Telemachus and even seems to erase any possibility for the slaughter of the suitors to produce kleos for him by including the amnesty at the conclusion of the poem. In the battle presented by

Diktys, however, Telemachus fights alongside his father and a cohort of fighters and supersedes them in martial ability. Here, then, Telemachus attains kleos in a way that combines the cultural frameworks employed by both Orestes, restoring his household through the removal of usurpers, and Neoptolemus, proving his excellence in battle.

Diktys provides further detail on Telemachus’ role in the story of Telegonos and the death of Odysseus. Following the defeat of the families of the suitors, Odysseus has a dream foretelling his death (Chronographia 5.21.6):69

τούτοις ἀπαγγέλλει τὸ ὄναρ καί φησι νοµίζειν ῾µὴ ἐπὶ τῆς ἰδίας εὐνῆς µε κατακεῖσθαι, <ἦν δὲ> εὐµορφόν τι καὶ φοβερὸν ζῶον θεοειδές, οὐκ ἀνθρώπου τελείου σχῆµα σώζειν δυνάµενον, ὅπερ ἑώρων ἡδέως·

He explained the dream to [the dream interpreters] and said “I thought that I was lying in a bed which was not mine, but it was a well-formed and terrifying, godlike living thing, not able to preserve the shape of a grown man, which I saw gladly.70

Ultimately, the dream interpreters determine that the figure in the dream represents Telemachus, and Odysseus attempts to kill him; however, he is overcome with paternal care and decides to send him off, instead. The imagery of the dream, which is significantly more extended than what is quoted above, is ripe with themes of sexual reproduction, development, and masculinity. The association between the bed and monstrous living being reflects the mythemes of children overpowering their fathers and monstrous children. Despite a conspicuous lack of divine figures in the story as presented by Diktys, thematic content of stories involving the gods seem to

69 = BNJ 49 F 10.6 70 This translation is partly indebted to Ken Dowden’s interpretation of the passage in Brill’s New Jacoby (BNJ 49 F 10).

remain. In this case, Odysseus takes the place of a figure like Ouranos or Kronos when his power is threatened by his child. The bed-monster’s inability to preserve the shape of a full-grown man

(ἀνθρώπου τελείου) demonstrates the essential problem of Telemachus’ position in the Odyssey; namely, the fact that Odysseus is alive precludes his ability to reach maturity and attain his own kleos. The use of τελείου connects the monster to Telemachus, who has already occurred in the story, and Telegonos, who enters the story to fulfill the dream, by punning on the shared first portion of their name. In this story, Telegonos is brought into the problematic position of being excluded from the economy of kleos as well and performs the narratively necessary function of bringing Odysseus’ life to an end.

After Telegonos is told about the identity of his father by Circe, and he seeks him out bearing a spear tipped with a stingray barb as a sign of recognition, he finds where Odysseus is and claims to be his son. Odysseus assumes that Telemachus has come, and he throws his spear at him in anger, but misses. Telegonos, not realizing that it is Odysseus, throws his spear in return, and strikes Odysseus. The death of Odysseus through error serves as a way to restore normative political and social order to the post-Homeric Ithaca. Odysseus is able to reconcile with his elder son and grant him rule, allowing him to continue to participate in the economy of cultural capital and restore his position in Ithaca following the heroic age. The event further provides an opportunity for Odysseus to recognize his child with Circe and to highlight his strength as a warrior. When the dream-interpreters question who Telegonos is, they focus on his ability as a positive attribute rather than a negative one, asking who he is that “killed such a man whom no one was able to wound at Troy and who accomplished many marvels throughout his life” (ὅτι τοιοῦτον ἄνδρα, ὃν οὐδεὶς ἐν ᾽Ιλίωι ἔτρωσε, πολλὰ θαύµατα διαπραξάµενον κατὰ τὸν

βίον οὗτος ἀνεῖλεν, BNJ 49 F10.11).

When Telemachus gains authority in Ithaca from his father, he begins the process of establishing a new, post-Heroic political order. While he is dying, Odysseus grants power to

Telemachus and the latter’s son Ptoliporthos, and Telemachus divides up the area of rule between himself, Telegonos, and his own son. The division of the rule reflects Telemachus’ newfound socio-political power, taking on a figure like that of Zeus when he divides up the cosmos among himself and his brothers. Telemachus’ power, however, is not absolute; when he is angry about the misunderstanding of the dream-interpreters, he threatens to kill them, but

Telegonos prevails on him to send them to Sparta. Telemachus is able to exert his power as a leader and ruler, but he does not attain the same level of unquestioned authority that his divine or heroic predecessors exhibit. While there is also narrative necessity in sending the dream- interpreters off to Sparta where they can report to Diktys the events that transpired at the end of

Odysseus’ life, the choice to include the conflicting choices and to make the decision that of

Telegonos problematizes the power which Telemachus holds. Telemachus cannot rule the entirety of Odysseus’ land by himself and he chooses to divide power further by including

Telegonos, whom Odysseus does not mention, in the division of power. In doing this,

Telemachus marks a shift from the former system of power based in single individuals holding royal households to an altered—though unspecified—form of rule.

The stories presented in the summaries of the Telegony and in the questionable narratives attributed to Diktys resolve some of the problems of Telemachus’ position and characterization which can be identified in the Odyssey. Other references to Telemachus present in the fragmentary and testimonial material, however, focus on more mundane points of mythography, especially genealogies involving city-founders. These sources reveal that ancient people may have had an interest in connecting their local heritage to Telemachus. As an example of this,

Telemachus is positioned in the lineage of the foundation of Rome in a minor tradition through a daughter named Rhome who marries Aeneas and after whom the city of Rome is named (BNJ

815 F1) or through a son with Circe named Latinos who marries Rhome and bears Rhomos and

Romulos (BNJ 818 F1; BNJ 840 F40). The role of Telemachus in these traditions suggests that his position at the end of the Heroic tradition made him a suitable candidate to serve as a bridge for a community to bring themselves closer to mythological figures; however, the lack of fleshed out narratives regarding these foundations relegate any attempt to propose a reason speculative.

Regardless, these traditions represent a continuing interest in the character of Telemachus to some degree, even though he and his offspring figure in these types of fragments less frequently than other mythological figures.

While it is difficult to say anything positive about the post-Homeric reception of

Telemachus due to the scarcity of source material, there is evidence that he did not entirely leave the cultural consciousness. The problems of Telemachus’ socio-cultural role and characterization grappled with and identified by modern readers of the Odyssey appear to have been topics of at least some interest to ancient authors writing on the story of Telemachus. Still, his relatively infrequent appearance compared to other post-heroic children raises questions about how effective a model he was for ancient audiences.

The literary representation of Orestes in extant post-Homeric mythological writing significantly overshadows that of Telemachus. Starting with early Greek epic poetry, his story was evidently present in the cyclical poem, Nostoi; Proclus ends his summary of the poem by saying that Orestes and Pylades bring vengeance to the house of Agamemnon, but he includes no detail beyond that (Procl. Chrest. 301–303).71 Later authors frequently retell the story of his

71 Bernabé (1987): 94–95.

matricide and trial.72 While Orestes’ matricide is alluded to in Homer (Od. 3.309–310), it is not directly mentioned and there is no expression of a possibility of punishment for this action.

Later, the literary works about Orestes confront the problem centrally and directly. The recurring interest in the story of Orestes following the epic tradition and his more frequent representation than Telemachus may be due in part to his less complete narrative in the major Homeric poems.

It seems more likely, however, that ancient authors and their audiences found more relevant, relatable, and reinterpretable material in the story and character of Orestes than in Telemachus, perhaps due to the story of the House of Atreus being a cultural and mythological touchstone.

The question of whether ancient audiences would have agreed with my view that

Telemachus serves as a metapoetic character through which the text encourages its audience to reflect on how they uptake the text by critiquing Telemachus’ engagement with parables and paradeigmata remains open. A paucity of reinterpretive, and particularly complete, extant material concerning Telemachus closes off the possibility of diachronic studies of his interpretation and examination. I recognize, however, that the lack of such material in itself could provide a criticism of my interpretation of the character. If he is meant to be an audience surrogate, his relatability may have led to increased interest for future literary works on the

Trojan cycle of myths, but this was not the case. Just as likely, however, later authors may have found the character difficult to work with because his character and story were so closely bound up in the particular generic and thematic limits of epic poetry. Telemachus, in this view, is largely an invention for Homeric poetry, rather than a cultural figure with a fully formed mythological story of his own. It is impossible to say with certainty which, if either, of these

72 For a fuller overview of Orestes in literature and art, see, Gantz (1993): 676–686.

statements are true; however, the Odyssey’s status as a highly metapoetic text encourages reading

Telemachus as a metapoetic device.73

Instead of reinterpreting his character, the little surviving evidence of Telemachus’ post-

Homeric life points primarily to attempts to resolve the story of the Odyssey. While the summaries of the Telegony seem to indicate a fantastical and more traditional “mythic” end to this story, later sources bring elements of realism to Telemachus’ story. In both versions, different paths are taken either to obviate Telemachus’ need for kleos or to open the traditional economy of kleos to him. While the Homeric epic leaves this question open and employs it as a method of creating socio-cultural categories and models of post-heroic readership of epic, later texts break strongly from that focus and instead attempt to erase the problems of Telemachus’ character through their stories. Indeed, more broadly, the myths surrounding Odysseus’ life and family following the events of the Odyssey grapple with similar problems that modern readers identify in the text. They resolve anxieties about sexual tensions in the poem through marriages, such as that between Telemachus and Nausicaa or Polycaste, and they include children from

Odysseus’ philandering who are unmentioned in Homer. By placing these themes centrally in their myths, the post-Homeric mythographers provide new challenges and problems for readers—in addition to those presented by the lack of surviving texts—which have yet to be fully discussed.

73 For the Odyssey as a metatext, see Martin (1993): 222–223.

Conclusion

Throughout this thesis, I have shown how the character of Telemachus is presented as performing variegated socio-cultural functions in the Odyssey, how his character acts as a model of the readership of epic poetry, and how later texts engage with his position in the text. While the poem is ultimately using Telemachus as a secondary character in relating the story of

Odysseus, his importance in the narrative and the prominent placement of his story in the structure of the epic contribute to the centrality of the narrative function which Telemachus undertakes over the course of the Odyssey. Without Telemachus, a narrative of the story could happen, but it would lack the features that make the poem what readers have understood it to be since ancient commentators began to write on the text.

Each social and cultural role that Telemachus fills serves to create a framework for understanding how these positions ought to be undertaken. The audience is encouraged to engage critically with Telemachus’ successes and failures in the performance of these roles, especially because his story is framed as an educative journey. The audience can see Telemachus effectively learn to execute his social functions appropriately and can notice through his growth how other characters manage or fail to act appropriately when confronted with performing the same roles. This engagement, however, does not end with the internal world of the epic. Because

Telemachus is always already open to criticism from the external audience, they also have the ability to engage with him as an auditor of epic poetry.

The evidence of extended narratives of Telemachus in mythological writings after the

Odyssey point to a continued interest in his ability to gain kleos in the face of his removal from the paradigms of the heroic age. Although the texts deal with these questions differently, they

represent a desire to reduce the anxiety of Telemachus’ complicated place in the world of the

Odyssey. By resolving the problems which Telemachus faces in winning kleos, the later texts suggest a continued interest in understanding how the story of a post-heroic figure can end in a way that connects him to the memory of the heroic world. At the same time, they open the possibility to analyze how characters embrace or reject the model of Telemachus by either bringing him closer to their own world by representing him as markedly post-heroic or displacing him further by positioning him firmly in the context of the heroic age.

Taken together, the strands of Telemachus’ representation in Homer and later sources provide a glimpse at how the character is constructed for the purpose of relating a story to an audience. He certainly serves the purpose of pushing the narrative forward, as a figure who anticipates the arrival and reflects the wandering of Odysseus; however, his role in a story which deals extensively with the importance of acting appropriately within the context of society after the Trojan War demands that his participation in that theme be thoroughly considered. What his story reveals, as I have attempted to show, is a connective bridge between the heroic world of

Archaic Greek poetry and the post-heroic, changed world following the end of the stories of heroes. The Odyssey itself ties the return of Odysseus and the other heroes with a shift in the society represented in Homeric poetry, and it can be read as highly aware of its own position in that process. Telemachus is the most obvious of the characters who must discover their place in this changed world and the clearest way in which the text ideologically creates the new order which he inhabits.

While I have endeavored to give a broad overview of the function Telemachus performs in ancient Greek literature, I have not provided a complete exegesis of his character both in

Homer and later authors, and I am far from the first to have taken on the task of understanding

his place in the narrative and in mythology more broadly. Much is left to be said about

Telemachus, especially in the context of his journey’s relationship to the cultural function of the epic as a text concerned with and used in education and growth. Despite a great deal of scholarship dealing with the ways in which Telemachus develops through his travels, his potential as a source for understanding cultural history has largely been overlooked. Indeed, this is neither a simple nor a straightforward task that provides a single, irreproachable answer.

Future scholarship ought to aim to break open possibilities that the text and the evidence of its reception support, rather than constraining itself to a search for a single truth which can never be fully attained.

Of course, Telemachus is not the only character with whom this type of analysis can, or should, occur. The approach in this thesis limits itself intentionally to be able to provide a more comprehensive survey of a single character’s narrative and metatextual function in Homer, but every character, to varying degrees, opens up opportunities to engage with the creation and enforcement of social and cultural ideologies. Telemachus, however, holds a privileged position within the narrative because of his proximity to the external audience, which makes him a particularly fruitful character for this analysis. His entanglement with the story of Orestes, however, suggests a further step which can be taken, both in the narrow context of Archaic

Greek poetry and in the wider reception of mythology. By understanding the characterization of

Orestes through the audience’s familiarity with the Telemachus story just as we can understand

Telemachus through the Orestes story, we may reveal another locus of Telemachus’ recreation in later writing.

As I hinted in the final chapter, the other major children of heroes who occur in mythological writing following Homer may provide an opportunity to examine how the

paradigm of Telemachus is experienced and received by later audiences.74 While this work could not effectively cover a topic of that scope, future work may engage with the broad representations—in literary and visual art—of post-heroic children as a category to determine to what extent these figures share features that can be traced back to Telemachus. In doing so, it may be found that despite the relative lack of extent receptions of Telemachus, authors nonetheless engaged with the themes which he represents in the Odyssey. If it is not the case that there remains in later art and literature an interest in the questions which I argue the Homeric representation of Telemachus raises, the cause of Telemachus’ uniqueness in thematic content presents an equally difficult and interesting problem.

Homer’s placement of Telemachus in a place of importance in the plot and structure of the Odyssey encourages the audience to acknowledge the manifold thematic and ideological implications of his character. This thesis has taken a holistic approach to understanding a few of the particularly central implications that the text bears out. From these observations, I hope that we can grasp not only a greater appreciation of the text and the intricacies of his composition and narrative but also a more thorough understanding of the social and cultural world which the text represents and creates through its cultural place. Telemachus grants to modern readers one perspective of what it may have meant to be a host, a son, or a reader in the ancient world.

Although no character can ever even broach giving us a complete picture of the cultural reality of the ancient world through their representation and reception, careful and thoughtful consideration of Telemachus provides a glimpse at one type of model available for ancient people to confront their cultural reality.

74 As an example of the type of work that can be done, see Whitby (1996) who sees in Sophocles’ Neoptolemus the traces of Telemachus.

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