The scene as the epic opens is that Odysseus is kept by Calypso on her island in her hopes that he will be her husband. Since Poseidon is away receiving hecatombs in Ethiopia, and all the other gods want Odysseus to return home, Zeus grants Athena permission for his return, and sends Hermes to tell Calypso. Athena goes to Telemachos, Odysseus’ son, now come to young manhood and, in the form of Mentor, instructs him what to do. Accordingly, he calls an assembly and tells the all the suitors that have been living his house for four years, eating up his livelihood, to go home. Disregarding the advice of an elder prophet, they tell Telemachos that they are not leaving until his mother Penelope chooses one of them to marry. She does not want to marry any of them, and hence has delayed choosing any for four years. Telemachos requests the gods to judge on his behalf, then goes to Eurykleia, his old nurse and keeper of the house, to prepare everything so he can go on a voyage with twenty of his companions to ask what happened to his father, but not to tell his mother. Athena-Mentor promised to procure the ship and companions, which she does, and she accompanies him to the first stage, Nestor, after which she disappears as a bird. Nestor said he did not know what happened to Odysseus, but suggested he visit Menelaos in Sparta. This being Athena’s instruction, he does. Menelaos receives him well, and Helen appears as a mild, dutiful wife. After relating his travels after sacking Troy, and how Agamemnon was killed by a friend who seduced his wife, says that he heard from the Old Man of the Sea that Odysseus was alive, but trapped on Calypso’s island.

Meanwhile, Hermes tells Calypso to release Odysseus on Zeus’ orders, and she complains that the male gods take whatever mortal women they like, but whenever a goddess or nymph takes one, Zeus prevents it. Then she tells Odysseus, who weeps every day, longing to go back home and to his wife, that if he does not want to stay with her and become immortal, she will let him leave. So he builds a raft, and she gives him material for a sail, and after twenty days of sailing, he comes in sight of land. This is when Poseidon returns, and he calls up a storm. After several days and hard swimming, Odysseus makes it to shore with the help of the veil of a nymph, and then, going away from the shore to somewhere warmer, he collapses into sleep in the leaves of a dense copse of trees.

Naked, the next morning he goes as a suppliant (carrying a branch with leaves to cover himself) to the young daughter of the king of the island of Phaiakia where he landed. Athena had stirred her up to do the laundry with her maids. Nausicaä received him well, gave him clothes, and had him ride in the ox-cart until she got close to land—since it would be unseemly to have made personal friends with a man. (Although she wished that he could be her husband instead of the young men courting her, since he looked godlike after his bath and Athena’s added glamor.) Posing as a young girl, Athena met him at the city gate and when he said he was looking for the king’s house, she took him there. They were feasting, and, unnoticed, he went up to the queen as Nausicaä advised and clasped her knees as a suppliant, asking that they take him home. After asking him how he got the clothes he was wearing (since she saw that she had woven the material herself). He told he had escaped from Calypso and was raft-wrecked, and how virtuously their daughter had received him. They agreed to take him back in their fast ships, both because he was a suppliant and because it was their habit to provide passage for any.

But first, the next day they feasted. King Alkinoös noticed that at the songs of Troy his guest cried, and said that they had had enough songs, lets do sport. So they showed off how athletic they were for their guest, but when one of them insulted Odysseus, he took a heavier discus than any they had been using and overthrew all their shots by not a little, and said he would not at all afraid to take any of them on, except not the eldest son of Alkinoös (it is unbecoming to fight with one’s host), and the raft left him out of conditioning for a foot race. Then Alkinoös said they should show of how skilled dancers they were, and Odysseus was properly impressed and said so to Alkinoös, who was pleased and offered Odysseus gifts (plus told the man to gift Odysseus a gift to compensate for his earlier insult). At the feast that evening, Alkinoös insisted tell them who he was and how he came here. Odysseus identified himself as “wide-famed” Odysseus, and told his story, enthralling them with his telling.

After sacking Troy, they sacked the city of the Kikonians. Odysseus wanted to leave immediately, but his men wanted to wait until the next day, but the next day the supporters of the city came and attacked them, and while they held their own in the morning, they had to flee. Then they came to the island of the Lotus Eaters, who were friendly, but the men who ate their lotus wanted to do nothing but stay and eat lotus, so Odysseus had to forcibly carry them back to the ship and restrain them. Next they came to the island of the Cyclops, and wanting to see if he could get any guest presents, Odysseus went to see if there were any people. They found the cave of Polyphemos, and ate some of his goat cheese and waited. In the evening he came back, put his flock of sheep into the cave, and sealed the entrance with a stone. Then, seeing Odysseus and his men, he ate two of them. In the morning, he did the same, but Odysseus had his men sharpen a thick tree cut into a pole into a point. The cyclops ate another two men, and when asked, Odysseus said his name was “Nobody”. They got him drunk on wine, and while he was sleeping, they drove the tree-pole into his eye, blinding him. Hearing his bellowing, the other cyclops came, and he said that “Nobody was hurting him”, so they so left. Odysseus roped the sheep together by threes and roped a man under the middle one, and himself grabbed the stomach of a large ram. The cyclops felt the tops of the sheep, but did not notice the men, and so they left with the sheep. Once they had sailed out of range, Odysseus, against the wishes of his men gloated that he had escaped (he would not get glory for the deed if no one knew), but the cyclops threw a huge boulder that washed them back to shore. This happened a second time, but they were washed back to the rest of the ships and left.

They came next to the island of Aiolos, whose eponoymous king sent them off with a bag of the north, east, and south winds tied up, so they would have good winds. But just as they were nearing Ithaca, Odysseus fell asleep, and his men thought the bag had gifts in it, which they resented, since they had done most of the work themselves. On opening the bag, the other winds sprang out, and a storm blew up, which pushed them back to Aiolos. This time Aiolos told them to leave and refused to help them because obviously the gods were against them.

After that they came to Circe’s island. The initial scouting party that Odysseus sent was invited into her house, given a drink, and then she turned them into pigs with her wand, except for the leader, who, suspecting treachery, had stayed outside. Hermes told Odysseus what she was doing, gave her a root that would prevent them being turned into pigs, and instructed him what to do. They met Circe, but this time she could not turn them into pigs. Then Circle wanted Odysseus to sleep with her, but he said he could not possibly do it willingly unless he got his men back. This she did, and, following Hermes’ instructions, he did. Circe said they should stay with her until they were well-rested, but after a year of well-resting, Odysseus’ men said they had to leave. Circe helped them leave (she had also wanted Odysseus as a husband), but said Odysseus needed to go to the south where the ocean ended and Hades began, to hear what the Athenian prophet Teiresias had to tell him. So he did, and he offered the sacrifice of a black sheep and a white sheep, filling two pits with water, the blood, and white barley on top. He held back the shades until Teiresias came and drank. Then he prophesied and told them everything he had to, in particular not to eat Helios’ cattle. After Teiresias went away, he let other shades drink of the blood, and when they did, their memories returned and he talked with them. His mother told him she died out of sadness for him. Achilles said, when Odysseus said that his glory was widely known, that being a slave and alive was better than being dead and having glory, but was happy that his son had made a name for himself. Agamemnon told how he had been killed by his wife and her lover, and advised Odysseus not to trust women. (It seems that perhaps the heroes were not shades, but that is not made clear in the text.) Then they sailed back to Circe’s island and she gave them more provisions.

Circe warned Odysseus about the Sirens, so he stopped up his men’s ears with beeswax, but had them lash him to the mast so that he could experience it. They music is not described, but their words are flattering, telling him to stay so they can sing to him about his greatness, and also to give him knowledge of all things that happened after Troy. After that, they had to avoid Charybdis’s whirlpool, and Odysseus prepared to attack the six-headed Scylla on the other side, but was too absorbed with avoiding Charybdis that he was too late and six of his men were eaten. Then they came to the island with Helios’ cattle, but the winds turned against them for over a month. Odysseus prevented them from raiding the cattle until their supplies were gone, but after that, when he had gone off to pray, they killed some cattle and ate it. Odysseus ate none, but Teiresias’ prophesy was that even if he did not, if his men did, he would suffer hardships and have a poor homecoming. The winds turned and the sailed, but Helios asked Zeus to punish them, and Zeus waited until their ship was in the middle of the ocean, with no land anywhere, and hit it with a thunderbolt. All the men perished, but Odysseus managed to cling onto the rudder. He was blown back by a storm to Charybdis and Scylla, and luckily for him Scylla was apparently sleeping, but Charybdis sucked down his raft, and he had to hang on to the branch of the olive tree that grew over her until sundown, when she spit up his raft. Eventually he drifted onto Calypso’s island, where she forcibly kept him because she wanted him for a husband.

The Phaiakians were silent for a while after he finished, amazed at his story. Then Alkinoös said each king, including himself, should give him a tripod and cauldron, in addition to the clothes and talent of gold they had given him in the morning, and they all assented readily. That night they piled all his gifts in the ship and made a bed for him in the middle, and rowed him to Ithaca (their ships were able to get to their destination in only a day). They unloaded his gifts, then carried his bed with him still sleeping onto the beach, and sailed back. Poseidon, having complained to Zeus that the Phaiakians had delivered the man he did not want delivered, asked Zeus for punishment, and Zeus said that he should turn the ship to stone in sight of the harbor, which he did. Then the Phaiakians decided not to offer conveyance to outsiders any more, which was Poseidon’s desire.

Athena prevented Odysseus from recognizing his homeland, and when he asked her in the form she took where he was, and she said Ithaca, he did not believe her, until she revealed herself as Athena. Then they hid his gifts in a sacred cave, and Athena told him to go to the house of his shepherd Eumaios, while she arranged for Telemachos, who was returning from his voyage, from being killed by the suitors who were waiting to ambush his ship. Athena tapped Odysseus with her wand and changed him into an old man with dirty clothing. Eumaios indicated that he loved his master Odysseus, who had always treated him well, and was displeased that the suitors were eating up his estate. Odysseus told Eumaios that he was a man of wealth from Crete, but who had fallen on hard times, having been kidnapped to be sold as a slave, but having just escaped from the ship while they were sleeping.

After Telemachos returned safely, Mentor-Athena told him to go to Eumaois the shepherd. Odysseus told him a simplified version of his lie, but then Athena came and transformed him back to his normal vigor. Telemachos, noticing the impossible change, thought he was a god and wanted to sacrifice to him, but he identified himself as Odysseus, his father, and gave proof. Then he told Telemachos what to do when he came to the house, and to put all the weapons in the hall into storage on the pretext that the smoke was damaging them. Then Athena changed him back to an old man. Telemachos went down to the house in the city to tell his mother that he had arrived safely back from his trip (no one thought he had the gumption to do it, and certainly no one thought he would come back; Athena had him do it to make a man of him and to build his reputation).

Odysseus went down with Eumaios when he brought the fattened porkers for the daily feast. He was insulted by his goat-herder at the well. He came into the house as a guest, and Telemachos gave him a table and something to eat. At the feast, the suitors insulted him, and one of the leaders threw a footstool at him. Penelope wanted to question him, but he said she should do it after the feast, in private, since it would be more proper, and she said what he said was true. He gave her a story, and said that he had seen Odysseus raiding on the mainland, and it would be not long until he returned. Penelope refused to believe it, nor had she believed the prophet-guest Telemachos had conveyed to Ithaca, who said that the omens indicated Odysseus’ return. She said she would have him bathed, but Odysseus said that he was too embarrassed to be bathed by any young woman, but he would accept a bath from an old woman. So Eurykleia brought out water to bathe him, and she noticed the scar on the knee, which he got from a wild boar unsuccessfully trying to escape his spear, and she recognized him. She tried to tell Penelope, but he silenced her, asking if she wanted to get him killed. He could not sleep, trying to scheme a way to kill the suitors as only one man, so Athena came and chided him, saying that she was fighting for him, and it did not matter how many were against him, she would see to it that he was victorious.

The next day had more insults, and the suitors riled up the resident guest to threaten old vagabond Odysseus, but Odysseus hit him so hard with just one punch that his ears bled and he lay on the ground. The suitors lauded his performance, but also mocked Telemachos for have a guest who did not work (the other guest at least ran messages). Odysseus scoped out Eumaios, and the ox-herder Philoitios, and found that they would fight for him, and he identified himself as Odysseus and promised to find them wives and increase their status from slaves to Telemachos’ companions. Penelope had decided to marry the suitor who could string Odysseus’ bow and shoot through twelve iron axeheads (they apparently had a hole somewhere). Telemachos dug a trench and set up the axheads perfectly straight with a string, despite never having see the contest before. It took four tries, but Telemachos would have strung the bow had not Odysseus warned him off. Then all the suitors tried and failed to string the great bow of horn. Then Odysseus asked to try it, and they were angry with him. Penelope said to let him try, it’s not like he was going to take her off an marry her if he managed to do it, but the suitors said that they would be embarrassed if an old vagabond managed to do something they, the best young men of Ithaca and the surrounds, could not. But Eumaios brought it to him, and then told Eurykleia the housekeeper to put all the women (including Penelope) upstairs and bar the halls, and Philoitios wound rope around the door from outside, and then returned.

Odysseus looked the bow over carefully to make sure it was still in good condition (a horn bow can break if not handled properly), prompting remarks and jeers from the suitors that the vagabond seemed to know what he was doing. Then he strung it with ease, sent an arrow through the axeheads. Then he spread out the arrows before him. He shot Antinoös, the most insolent suitor first. They were stunned, and Odysseus identified himself as Odysseus returned. Then the suitor who had promised the most gifts to Penelope in exchange for her had (but who was sleeping with one of the housemaids, and this housemaid was quite disrespect to the old, vagabond Odysseus-guest) said that they had been taking orders Antinoös, who had paid for his crime with his life, and asked Odysseus to let them go and they would each pay him back twelve oxen [there were about 100 suitors, so that would be quite a herd]. Odysseus said that they had disrespected his wife, disrespected him as a guest, acted highly improperly as guests (and, unstated, but they were also trying to usurp his kingship or ruin it so that Telemachos would not be able to take Odysseus’ place), and he would not accept all their fathers’ treasure. Then they drew their swords and he started firing. Eumaios asked about getting armor and Odysseus said to do it before he ran out of arrows. Afterwards they strapped on the armor. Now the insolent goat-herder had climbed over the wall and come back with a handful of weapons and armor that he passed down to them. So Odysseus told Eumaios and Philoitios to wait for him to make a second trip, then tie his hands and feet behind his back and leave him off the ground with a rope, which they did. Coming back, they were all in a line, and the suitors three six or seven javelins at the four of them, but Athena caused them to miss wildly. They threw in returned and killed four. This repeated, with another four dying. Then they fought with the sword. At the end, one of the suitors who did not agree with what they suitors had been doing, came up an clasped his hands, saying that he participated in none of it, and he was their seer. Odysseus said that if that was so, he must have prayed against his return, and beheaded him. Then the singer ran up and clasped his knees saying that he had been forced to sing and play his harp, and Telemachos vouched for him, and also said they should spare the house-herald, if he not already been killed. (The herald had been hiding under a ox hide under a chair and had gone unnoticed.)

Odysseus summoned Eurykleia who rejoiced over the Odysseus, his hands and front spattered in blood, with the heaps of dead suitors all around, but Odysseus stopped her. He had her bring all the traitorous housemaids, which were twelve in all, and made them wipe down the chairs and clean the room, while Telemachos, Eumaios, and Philoitios cleared the bodies away. Then, told Telemachos to kill the twelve women with the edge of the sword, but he thought that was too good for them, so he put them in a narrow single-file passageway, and hung them, each of them putting her head in the loop like a doomed bird. Their feet struggled, but not for long.

Finally, Eurykleia could tell Penelope that Odysseus had returned, and Penelope told her off, saying it was only Eurykleia’s old age that prevented her from a more severe punishment. But Eurykleia said that she had seen Odysseus’ scare and knew it was him. So she rejoiced briefly, and went downstairs. She looked at Odysseus for a long time. Then she gave instructions to give make up Odysseus’ own bed and bring it down for this “Odysseus” to sleep on. Odysseus got angry, and said that that would be difficult, since he had carved the headboard out of a tree, which was in the center of the bedroom that he built around it, so unless someone had sawed under it, bringing it down was impossible. Since no man had seen Odysseus’ bed, she accepted this as proof and embraced him. Their bed was made ready, and they went in and enjoyed themselves in love, and then told each other their stories. Meanwhile, Odysseus had told the three to have the singer play music and to dance along with the housemaids, as if a wedding were taking place, so no one would miss the suitors.

Then, next morning (and Athena delayed Dawn’s rising at the edge of the world so Odysseus and Penelope could have more time together and still sleep well), Odysseus told Penelope to go to her rooms upstairs and stay there. He and the other three went to his father, Laertes, who had a villa outside of town with a large, well-kept orchard. Laertes did not recognize Odysseus, but Odysseus could not hide his identity from his father long because of the old man’s grief and revealed himself. Laertes said to prove it, so Odysseus showed him his scar and his father rejoiced. The family of Laertes’ head servant came in, and he and his six sons, young men, rejoiced to see his return, and they ate lunch. Meanwhile, the fathers of the suitors held an assembly of the people and asked for help avenging their murders. The old prophet said that they should have listened to him earlier and kept their sons from abusing the hospitality of Odysseus’ house. About half the people agreed that the suitors deserved what they got, but the other half put on armor and went to Laertes’ villa. So the twelve men (including the old Laertes and his servant Dolion) got on their armor. Odysseus urged Telemachos to have courage, who said that it was not likely he who was going to lack it, prompting Laertes to rejoice that his son and grandson were arguing over who had more courage. Then the fight started, but Odysseus’ side (with Athena’s help) put the other side to flight. When they turned to flee, Odysseus let out a great cry and started to chase them, but Athena stopped him. So they swore oaths of friendship and allegiance to him.

The Odyssey is surprisingly different from the Iliad, and to my mind lacking in the greatness of the Iliad, so much so that it seems unlikely to me (and to Lattimore) that the same person wrote them, although clearly Odyssey comes from the same bardic tradition. The Iliad only really involves a few days of fighting, and only several weeks in the entire text. It focuses on Achilles’ anger and desire for honor, and what the consequences are. But within each book, some character makes a decision. Furthermore, the poetry is more elegant, and the metaphors are just astounding. The Odyssey has none of this; no character has an effective decision, most of it being on rails by Athena, who mostly tells them what to do. Odysseus does make decisions, but the nothing of the process is shown, nor are the consequences tied to it. Certainly at the island of the Cyclops, Odysseus’ greed gets him (and some of his men) into trouble, and his hubris at boasting of his accomplishment not only almost kill him then, but allow Polyphemus to tell Poseidon, his father, who had blinded him, and thus made an enemy of the god of the sea when his return is over the sea. Apart from that, Odysseus mostly has no choice. In fact, the narration is mostly “this, and this, and then that” and lots of intervention from deities.

From a modern perspective it is easy to see that “circumspect Penelope”, Odysseus’ wife, remains faithful to him, but he spends a year sleeping with Circe and then eight years sleeping with Calypso. Here I find an interesting contrast with the Iliad, which makes it clear that women of conquered cities are made into household slave-workers, and the prettier ones become concubines of the men (really, high status men), or rather, sex slaves, since they did not have choice in the matter. But in the Odyssey, the situation is reversed. Here, Odysseus has no power. He is forced to sleep with Circe to get his men turned back from pigs (and, indeed, Hermes instructs him to not refuse her), and then she beguiles them so that they apparently forget how quickly time passes. She wants a Odysseus as a husband, but manipulates the perception of time to keep him. Calypso is even worse, who straight-up keeps him by force, and essentially forces him to play husband, even though she wants him to choose her. So here it is that the women have the power (being goddesses, albeit minor) and it is the high-born man that is the sex slave. It is far from obvious to me that this was intended, but it certainly a very noticeable change.

On his return, Odysseus is one man against a hundred, which provides an opportunity for tension on how to accomplish this. Unfortunately, this potential is squandered, because Athena does everything for him, and Penelope even unknowingly sets up the scenario whereby he can get a weapon in the hall. Contrast with the scene in the Iliad where Diomedes and Odysseus go to spy out the Trojans. Sure, they ask for Athena’s help, but the poem has them chasing down the Trojan counter-spy, and interrogating him, and then the tension of how many to slaughter in their sleep, risking discovery and disaster, and when to leave while they still can. Odysseus on his return just has to bite down his anger and vengeance, and endure mockery from unworthy guests, and we even see very little of that.

To modern eyes, the mass killing of the suitors can seem excessive, but it in a world where you pretty much had to make your own justice—the king would have been responsible, but Odysseus was the king, but did not have any hard power—you had to throw out people invading your home yourself. Furthermore, the suitors were not just uninvited, unwanted, and violating the responsibilities of being a good guest. Marrying Penelope would give them a claim to the throne (Menelaos was king of Sparta because he married Helen), and since Telemachos had come of age (thus being a claimant to the throne), despoiling his property reduced his ability to pursue his claim even further than his lack of power to dictate what happened in his own house. If Odysseus had accepted the twelve oxen each, he would have risked rival claimants to the throne, in addition to the severe violations of his honor by other men pursuing his wife, sleeping his housemaids (it seems some were willing, and others were not, but all inappropriate in that age; presumably sleeping with the housemaid of the lady you are pursuing for marriage is out of bounds, too), and despoiling his property. Since there is no law, or one could say that Odysseus is recovering his ability to be the law/justice for the community, starting with himself, he does not have a lot of option. And the suitors know it; in an honor culture, their acts were so dishonoring that they could expect harsh punishment.

There is another potential tension which is squandered: Odysseus may be morally clear by the standards of an honor culture (as witnessed by half the city refusing to help the fathers), but it is also reasonable for the fathers to pursue vengeance for the murder of their sons. Many of the Icelandic sagas explore how to resolve the situation of the murder of a family member when the killer refuses to pay the murder-price (or the aggrieved sets it unreasonably high), and the sagas offer commentary on the results: sometimes ignoring it is positive, sometimes not; sometimes lying in wait for the other person is seen positively and other times not. But the Odyssey largely removes the tension, since we see Athena talking to Zeus about it and Zeus saying that it would be best for everyone to end up friends. So they have a fight (because there is no other way to resolve the situation) on the penultimate page, and of course Odysseus wins, and the situation is resolved. But they were defeated by force and so they swore friendship, but that does not resolve the simmering anger underneath? I think the Icelandic sagas would say that this was not well-resolved.

The tale does introduce a lot of interesting themes, even though it does not seem to explore them deeply. Odysseus does move from boasting at outwitting Polyphemos to very humble at the Phaiakians, and even hiding his identity out of necessity at his homecoming. His hubris with Polyphemos is partly responsible for his suffering, since he made an enemy of Poseidon. Although Odysseus is physically strong and one of the far-famed fighters, he returns home by perseverance and by craftiness/cunning. There is also the tendency of the non-highborn to folly, such as his men opening the bag of winds (although arguably they were under the influence of a god) and eating the cattle of a god to fill their stomachs rather than respecting other’s property at the expense of their own hunger (that is, lacking self-control in an important situation). Odysseus passes up the opportunity for immortality in preference for love of home (a tension sadly unexplored), once explicitly with Calypso and once implicitly with Circe. Of course, the theme of recovering honor as one escaping from Calypso destitute and returning one man against a small army of armed squatters in your house.

There is a small, but interesting window onto the economy of the time (at least, as perceived later by the poets). Odysseus is given thirteen talents of gold by the Phaiakian kings, but unlike the biblical talent of 75 pounds, a talent of this time was about one gold coin, roughly equivalent to a Roman gold solidus (and since Odysseus hand carries a chest with the gold and thirteen sets of cloths, the gold was clearly not very heavy). Values are hard to come by, but around Constantine’s time a solidus was worth 275,000 denarii. In Jesus’ time the denarius was one day’s wage for a common person, so if we account for the debasement of the currency, one gold coin in Rome could be worth somewhere between 38 and 100 years’ wages. However, in the Iliad, a talent of gold seems equivalent to one ox (roughly $3000 today), so probably much less than in Roman times, although the value of an ox to us and to the ancient Greeks without modern farming yields could be different. The fine clothing, however, was presumably hardly inexpensive, since it was paired with the gold as a gift. Odysseus also gets thirteen tripods, which in the Iliad are valued at twelve oxen per tripod, so his story (and perhaps their sympathy) was worth a lot more than the expected guest-gift. What I find interesting is that thirteen tripods and cauldrons, thirteen gold coins, and thirteen sets of fine clothes are said to be more plunder than he would have had if he had come back from Troy without troubles. Assuming a cauldron to be equal in value to a tripod (which seems unlikely, since the value of tripods is mentioned but not cauldrons, or perhaps the cauldron is included) and a set of fine clothes as one gold coin, this would be equivalent to 338 gold coins / oxen. An ordinary female household working-slave was four oxen in the Iliad, and Odysseus paid twenty oxen for Eurykleia. So the plunder from Troy would be less than $1 million (at $3000/ox), and the approximately 1200 oxen the suitors offered was about four times the plunder of Troy. (And thus, Odysseus valued his honor greater than immense riches.)

I found the Iliad to be the most well-crafted book I have ever read; the story-telling is riveting if you read it aloud, and the poetic descriptions frequently left me in awe. I think that to begin to understand the Iliad is to be able to understand what Literature is abound. Sadly, I found the Odyssey to be ordinary, as neither the storytelling nor the poetry is particularly outstanding. It is quite possible that I am missing something, and possibly compared to all the other works in the Trojan War cycle (many now lost, others were cited in the introductions but I had never heard of them) it was a clear second place, but after reading the Iliad I found the Odyssey disappointing. However, it is an interesting wonder-tale, it adds to the corpus of Greek mythology, and is one of the very few windows onto Bronze Age Greece, hidden by mist as it was even when written.


Review: 7
Completely lacks the genius of the Iliad, and the story is on rails, with Odysseus and Telemachos essentially making no real decisions.