The Odyssey - Manual of Secret Teachings?

Re: The Odyssey - question for all!

Andres TemeT said:
No, i haven't read it yet!!!
i think i saw the movie ( Directed By Andrei Konchalovsky with Armand Assante) once along time ago!!!
love those classic tales!!!

If you want a faithful movie adaptation, check this: http://cassiopaea.org/forum/index.php?topic=7756.0
It even contains actual extracts from the Poem. Unfortunately, I think it's only available in French, German and Italian. But it's well worth watching.
 
Re: The Odyssey - question for all!

Data said:
Rabelais said:
Laura, is there any one version/translation that you would recommend?

She mentioned it here:

Laura said:
I've got the Samuel Butler prose version which is a lovely read!

It's important to read all the posts I'm going to be making on this thread even if you have to back up to do so. I'll be giving you the tools to really understand some totally cool things!
 
Re: The Odyssey - question for all!

Perhaps not before the flood of Noah because global Atlantean culture was probably well aware of "Atlantic"ocean (I don't know if they used ships at all instead of some other much advanced ways of transportation). On other hand, war between "Greeks and Troyans" could be even older than Odyssey itself, for me it seems like clash of major forces, like clash of different cultures & different religions, do we have that kind of forces after the flood of Noah?



It would be interesting to review the parallel between the 3 sons of Adam ( the early serpent/sungods,etc) and then the 3 sons of Noah after the flood, to understand where such "myth" might have come from.

Analyzing old information in this way, should be a fascinating adventure!
 
Re: The Odyssey - question for all!

I read the first 3 books last night and noticed for the first time the mention of barrows ...to me a clear indication that it is set in southern england ;)
 
Re: The Odyssey - question for all!

I don't know whether it matters to say, this far in the stream, that I read it in high school...sort of...

And then I read it again, recently (about 6 or 7 years ago).

The first time, in school, I wasn't focused enough to really relate to it. Also, didn't have enough of an intelligent world view, yet, to identify with it. --->The second read was fascinating---I was really glad I'd re-read it.

Now with the information developing on this stream, it may be a cool thing to go back and read it once more, this time with an eye for these new themes and concepts.
 
Re: The Odyssey - question for all!

Laura said:
As ya'll know, I've been peeling through piles of books for years, and finally there is a way to bring this material to all of you in a more-or-less condensed format that may be an enjoyable project. I had certainly despaired of it because it is all so enormous. Naturally, I'm going to have to think about Fomenko in relation to the Odyssey and Iliad and more at some point, but I think my comments in the Fomenko thread stand: http://cassiopaea.org/forum/index.php?topic=710.msg265492#msg265492

Taking Fomenko into account - and things start to get very confusing ...

Maybe the Bible and Homer are describing the same event localized more recently. They may just be a different side of the same coin. All seem to point back to events of the end of the XIII century A.D. in Italy (according to Fomenko). But he develops this thread in more detail in his Chronology 2 which I haven't read yet.
 
Re: The Odyssey - question for all!

nicklebleu said:
Laura said:
As ya'll know, I've been peeling through piles of books for years, and finally there is a way to bring this material to all of you in a more-or-less condensed format that may be an enjoyable project. I had certainly despaired of it because it is all so enormous. Naturally, I'm going to have to think about Fomenko in relation to the Odyssey and Iliad and more at some point, but I think my comments in the Fomenko thread stand: http://cassiopaea.org/forum/index.php?topic=710.msg265492#msg265492

Taking Fomenko into account - and things start to get very confusing ...

Maybe the Bible and Homer are describing the same event localized more recently. They may just be a different side of the same coin. All seem to point back to events of the end of the XIII century A.D. in Italy (according to Fomenko). But he develops this thread in more detail in his Chronology 2 which I haven't read yet.

Well, as I said, at some point, we'll want to deal with the Fomenko issue, but not here or now. What I wrote in that thread stands.

If you will be patient, you will see that it is not so simple as the Bible and Homer describing the same event.
 
Re: The Odyssey - question for all!

Let's look now at some things that Louden has noted about the Odyssey and how those same things appear in the OT in rather distorted versions. What is below will be from "Homer's Odyssey and the Near East". It deals specifically with "Divine Councils" in myth and epic.

My thought about this is that it depicts an understanding of hyperdimensional influences on the life of an individual. While the gods may not actually exist as depicted, the hyperdimensional influences that are suggested in these dramas seem to be rather accurate, to say the least!

What is also interesting is Louden's discussion of apocalypses as being of three graduated types and that the gods cause them. This reminds me of the Cs saying that weather and Earth Changes are what we perceive of 4th density wars and other activities.

That humans can be the "cause" of apocalypse (as in, getting the gods angry at them and getting smashed for it) also comes up from the Cs when they say that the human experiential cycle reflects cosmic events and vice versa.

Louden discusses Gilgamesh as though it were older than The Odyssey and we'll leave this open for a bit. I have to get out another book that addresses that problem. For now, we just need to see the analysis of the councils of the gods and their interactions with humans to understand what the ancients were trying to tell us about hyperdimensional realities.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

After a short proem (Od. 1.1–10), and brief transition, the Odyssey’s first
scene is a divine council on Mount Olympos (Od. 1.26–96). I define a
divine council simply as a conversation between two or more gods, often a
large assembly of them, usually with the chief god presiding, usually concerned
with the myth’s protagonist. Since they depend on the presence of more than
one god, divine councils are a naturally polytheistic genre, and also occur
outside of epic.1 ...

Our context for analyzing
the Odyssey’s divine councils will be the divine councils in Gilgamesh, the
Ugaritic myths, the Iliad, Hesiod, and Old Testament myth.2 ...


In most Greek or Near Eastern heroic myths three gods typically define
the parameters of a hero’s career
.3 The three gods are each associated with
a specific type-scene through which they demonstrate and act out their
specific relationship with the hero.

The sky father, Zeus, in Homeric epic,
judge and ruler of the cosmos, supports the hero and guides his destiny
by presiding over divine councils involving the hero, rather than personally
intervening on his behalf.

A mentor god defends and advises the hero,
speaks on his behalf at divine councils, and personally appears to him in
theophany.

A third god places obstacles in his path, speaks against him
at divine councils, and causes the deaths of others around the hero, a
divine wrath.

The three gods suggest a legal configuration in which the
sky father is judge, the mentor god a defense attorney, and the wrathful
god a prosecuting attorney.

The three typical functions, and the gods who
serve them, are already visible in Gilgamesh. Anu is the sky father who
presides over divine councils, and supports Gilgamesh but does not appear
to him in person.

Shamash, the sun god, also alluded to in OT myth,4 is
the mentor god who appears face-to-face before Gilgamesh in theophany,
advises him, and speaks on his behalf in divine councils (George 2003:
V.1, VII.1).

When Gilgamesh rejects her advances, Ishtar develops a divine
wrath against him, speaks against him at a divine council (George 2003:
VI.81–114), and causes Enkidu’s death.

In the Odyssey Zeus presides over
divine councils that focus on Odysseus, and supports his return.

Athena, his mentor, speaks on his behalf at divine councils, appears to him in
theophany, and advises him how to proceed (Od. 13.221–440).

Poseidon develops a wrath against him because of the Polyphemos episode.

I call this traditional divine configuration the epic triangle.

Though many gods are often said to be present at a divine council,
only two usually speak in any given instance. In Mesopotamian myth a
full divine council was thought to include fifty-seven gods.5 A Homeric
divine council on such a scale opens Book 20 of the Iliad, at which the
narrator specifies that all the rivers and nymphs were present (Il. 20.4–32).
But in spite of the plentiful attendance, only two gods, Zeus and Hera,
actually speak.

The two gods who speak up at a divine council tend to be
two of the three deities that comprise the epic triangle. Thus most divine
councils, Homeric and other, consist of a dialogue between the sky father
and either the mentor god or the god with a divine wrath.

This simple distinction, whether the divine council features the sky father speaking with
the mentor god or the wrathful god, subdivides divine councils into two
basic types.

Any given divine council either concerns the gods acting on
behalf of the hero, as the mentor god advocates, perhaps righting a wrong
which he suffers, or it is concerned with the gods acting against him, as
the wrathful god desires, often resulting in the death of others around
him.


{This is so typical of what we have observed of hyperdimensional manipulations or what Mouravieff calls the "General Law". A certain person cannot be directly attacked, but 4D critters attempt to get to you through people around you, to hurt you, to entrap you, to wear you out. This "divine council" thing seems to be an attempt to relate that there are certain "laws" that govern the interactions between hyperdimensional beings and humans.}

The Odyssey’s first divine council, programmatic for the entire epic,
depicts the sky father conversing with the mentor god. Though all the
Olympians except Poseidon are said to be present (Od. 1.26–7), the council
is a dialogue between Zeus and Athena (Od. 1.32–95). In what is probably
an instance of ring composition, the Odyssey’s last divine council features
the same two gods, Zeus and Athena
(Od. 24.472–86).

In the divine council that separates the Telemachy from the rest of the epic, and serves as fanfare
as the narrative is about to turn its focus to Odysseus (Od. 5.3–42), though
all the gods are again said to be present (Od. 5.3), and Zeus presides as
usual, only he and Athena have speaking parts (Od. 5.5–42). Hermes is
addressed but does not take part in the dialogue.

This specific subtype of divine council that opens the Odyssey, between
the sky father and the mentor god, is common in Near Eastern epic and
myth. In the Ugaritic epic, the Aqhat, the war and storm god Baal converses
with El, the sky father, asking him to grant offspring to Danel (Corpus
des tablettes cun´eiformes alphab´etiques [CTA] 17.i.16–27).

From the perspective of Greek myth, El combines the functions and characteristics of
Zeus, who presides over divine councils, and Kronos,
a less dynamic, more
aged figure.

In helping bring about the birth of Aqhat, Danel’s son, Baal
clearly acts as the mentor god for the protagonist.

The Ugaritic myth Kirta features a similar scene, in which again Baal intervenes with El in a divine
council to get the sky father to help Kirta obtain offspring (CTA 15.ii.11–
28).6

In Gilgamesh, Enkidu dreams of a divine council (Gilgamesh Vii.i,
Dalley 1991: 83–4) in which Shamash, the sun god who serves as mentor
to Gilgamesh, speaks on his behalf with Anu, who presides over the divine
councils, and with Enlil, a god whose functions are difficult to determine.

The opposite, complementary, subtype of divine council, which depicts
the sky father conversing with the god who has a divine wrath against the
hero, occurs three times in the Odyssey, and is also extant in Near Eastern
myth. This subtype generates greater drama because it usually precipitates
some form of apocalyptic destruction.


I define an apocalypse as a genre of myth in which a god, angry at mortals’ disrespect, destroys them in large
numbers
(explored in Chapters 10 and 13).

Gilgamesh offers a paradigmatic instance of this subtype, and its link with apocalyptic destruction, in the
dialogue between Ishtar and Anu, Gilgamesh VI.iii–iv (Dalley 1991: 80–1;
VI.81–114 in George [2003]). When Gilgamesh rudely rejects her offer of
marriage (discussed in Chapter 5), an enraged Ishtar goes to her father
Anu, threatening to raise the dead so they eat the living, unless he allows
her to use the Bull of Heaven to kill Gilgamesh. If she were to descend
to the underworld and release the dead,7 they would soon outnumber the
living, resulting in a large level of destruction, a full-scale apocalypse.

{This is VERY interesting in terms of psychopathy. Releasing the dead? "Living" meaning those with human souls and empathy and "Dead" meaning those without, i.e. psychopaths, those who can never "wake up", so to say. A world ruled by psychopaths is a world that is bringing on its own destruction, it seems to me. And that is what we are seeing today in our world. Not a pleasant thought.}


But Anu mediates her wrath, talking her down to a lower level of destruction.
Concerned that the Bull would cause seven years of drought for Uruk,
he hesitates. But Ishtar assures him that she has stockpiled grain,8 and he
relents. When she does send the Bull of Heaven down, several hundred
people still die (600 or 1,200), but far fewer than would have been the case
if she had followed through on either of her two other options.

{The "Bull of Heaven" sounds like a cometary cataclysm - possibly Tunguska type.}

Anu’s mediation of Ishtar’s wrath in this council implies three possible
degrees of apocalypse, presented in descending order.
Ishtar’s initial threat
to unleash the dead so that they eat the living would probably result in the
destruction of all or most human life, a full-scale apocalypse:

If you don’t give me the Bull of Heaven . . .
I shall set my face toward the infernal regions,
I shall raise up the dead and they will eat the living,
I shall make the dead outnumber the living!
Gilgamesh VI.iii9


Full-scale apocalypse is also extant in Noah’s flood (itself modeled on
the earlier Mesopotamian myth of Utnapishtim/Ziusudra), and Hesiod’s
earlier races (of Gold, Silver, and the first Bronze race).

Anu’s concern that the Bull would cause seven years of famine in Uruk,
which would perhaps destroy the population, represents a middle degree
of apocalypse, the destruction of an entire city,


On no account should you request the Bull of Heaven from me!
There would be seven years of chaff in the land of Uruk.
Gilgamesh VI.iii


This middle degree, the destruction of a whole city
(often leaving a lone
survivor, “the one just man,” discussed in Chapter 13), is the most common
degree of apocalypse in ancient myth,
manifest not only here in Anu’s
concern for Uruk, but in the myth of Troy, in the myth of Sodom and
Gomorrah, in Ovid’s Baucis and Philemon (Metamorphoses 8), in Poseidon’s
initial wish to punish the entire city of the Phaiakians (Od. 13.152), and
in many others (cf. Works and Days 240–1; discussion at Louden 2006:
227–9).

Anu here mediates Ishtar’s wrath, persuading her to adopt the lowest of
the three levels of apocalyptic destruction. Her subsequent annihilation of
several hundred people instead of the majority of the race, or the whole
city, is a significantly lower degree of destruction, which I call a contained
apocalypse.


The Odyssey is structured around three contained apocalypses:

Helios’ destruction of the crew at Thrinakia (Od. 12.376–419), Poseidon’s
petrifaction of the Phaiakians’ ship (instead of their whole city, Od. 13.125–
64), and Athena’s direction of the destruction of the suitors (Od. 13.393–5,
22.205–309).

Contained apocalypses in other traditions include Exodus 32
(discussed in Chapter 10), and several briefer instances in Numbers 11, 14,
16, and 25.

Three of the Odyssey’s divine councils are the same specific subtype
as that between Ishtar and Anu (Gilgamesh VI.iii–iv, Dalley 1991: 80–1;
VI.81–114 in George [2003]). Zeus, the sky father, similarly mediates and
adjudicates the complaints of three different wrathful gods, talking each
one down from a threat of greater destruction to a contained apocalypse.


Each such scene concludes the respective sequence of the narrative pattern
(Aiaian, Scherian, Ithakan) in which it occurs (discussion in Louden 1999:
69–72, 96–103).

In Book 12 Helios, angered because Odysseus’ crew have
plundered his sacred cattle (discussion in Chapter 10), threatens to descend
to the underworld and upset the basic cycle of human life, much as Ishtar:

If then they will not requite me with just recompense for my cattle,
I will go down into Hades and shine among the dead.10
Odyssey 12.382–3


Like Ishtar’s threat to descend and release the dead, Helios’ shining in the
underworld would similarly invert the order of the cosmos, and, by withholding
his beams from the earth’s surface, threaten all mortals’ existence.

Demeter’s threat to stop all crops from growing, until Zeus intervenes
and mediates (Homeric Hymn to Demeter 310–13), is another instance of
the same level of threatened destruction.

Zeus, much as Anu with Ishtar,
carefully talks Helios down from his threat of full-scale apocalypse, to
the destruction of only the crew, those who actually violated the sacred,
interdicted, cattle:

Helios, truly shine for the immortals
and for mortals on the grain-giving earth.
But I will cleave their ship with a silver lightning bolt.
Odyssey 12.385–8


Zeus mediates the wrathful god’s destruction from a full apocalypse to the
crew members of one ship, a contained apocalypse.


In Book 13, a wrathful Poseidon, angered that the Phaiakians have given
Odysseus safe passage back to Ithaka, threatens to destroy not only the
crew who ferried him home, but the entire Phaiakian city:

Now, in return, I wish to smite the very beautiful ship
of the Phaiakians, as it returns from its escort
on the misty sea, that they cease, and halt their conveyance
of mortals, and I would obliterate their city with a great mountain.
Odyssey 13.149–52


As with Helios, Zeus, acting quickly to prevent the larger level of destruction
Poseidon threatens – in this case the middle degree of apocalypse,
destruction of a whole city – guides him to the lesser level, a contained
apocalypse:

Oh good brother, this is what seems best to me,
when everyone from the city beholds the ship
driving by near the land, turn her into a stone
like a ship so all the people marvel;
but don’t obliterate the city with a mountain.
Odyssey 13.154–8


This council features the usual underlying reason for the angry god’s divine
wrath, a perceived lack of respect by mortals.
As the council opens Poseidon
complains:

Zeus Father, no longer will I have any honor among
the immortal gods, when mortals honor me not at all.
Odyssey 13.128–9


His complaint resembles Ishtar’s first words to Anu:

Father, Gilgamesh has shamed me again and again!
Gilgamesh spelt out to me my dishonor,
My dishonor and my disgrace.
Gilgamesh VI.iii 15–17


Both wrathful gods are angry at a perceived lack of respect (cf. Poseidon’s
complaint at Il. 7.446–53). Zeus ensures that both Helios and Poseidon
receive honor and respect, convincing each to contain his wrath and lessen
his destruction (Od. 12.385–8, 13.140–5).

{My thought on this "lack of respect" is that it includes a denial of existence and lack of care in observing reality and interacting with it as it is. Other ideas, anyone?}


The Odyssey’s final divine council (Od. 24.472–86) also belongs to this
same subtype, if somewhat modified. As is clear from her remarks at Od.
13.393–6 and much earlier (Od. 1.227–9), Athena is the wrathful god in
the Ithakan sequence, her wrath directed at the suitors, not at Odysseus,
as Helios’ against the crew, and, after Zeus’ mediation, Poseidon’s at the
Phaiakian crew.11

Though Poseidon is thematically wrathful at Odysseus
through the first twelve-and-a-half books, his wrath is redirected against
the Phaiakian crew after they ferry Odysseus home.

Each of the Odyssey’s three sequences (Ithakan: Books 1–4, Book 13.188 through to end of Book
24; Scherian: Books 6–8, 9–12, 11.333–84, 13.1–187; and Aiaian: Books 9–12)
leads up to and concludes with a contained apocalypse, though each one
does so by employing a different genre of myth
(discussed in Chapters 2,
6, 10, and 13).


In Book 24 Athena asks Zeus if he will provoke further violence, or put
an end to the fighting (Od. 24.473–6). Since Athena’s wrath only pertained
to the suitors, she has no desire for further destruction. Therefore, there
is little need for Zeus to mediate here since the destruction she desires
has already occurred, the contained apocalypse that is Athena’s direction
of Odysseus slaying the 108 suitors and their henchmen
. Zeus, having
sanctioned the destruction that has already taken place, directs her to
prevent additional violence. Though the details differ somewhat from the
other scenes discussed above, the divine council validates the lower degree
of destruction,
as do the other instances. It is thus this lowest degree
of divine destruction, contained apocalypse, with which the Odyssey is
concerned, in the slaying of the suitors, and the two parallel episodes, the
destruction of Odysseus’ crew off Thrinakia, and the destruction of the
Phaiakian crew off Scheria.


The Iliad, by contrast, works toward the middle
degree of apocalypse, the destruction of an entire city, which, in Homeric
epic, only Zeus can validate, not a wrathful god such as Poseidon, Helios,
or Athena.12

The Iliad nonetheless has one instance of the same subtype of divine
council, especially like that at Odyssey 13.127–58, with Zeus again mediating
a wrathful Poseidon, again angry over a perceived lack of respect (Il. 7.443–
63). Noting that the Greeks did not sacrifice to the gods when they built
the wall to defend the ships, Poseidon complains that mortals will forget
how he and Apollo built the walls of Troy. Reassuring him of his respect
among the gods, Zeus bids him to obliterate the wall, but to wait until after
the war is concluded to do so (Il. 7.459–63). In so doing, Zeus prevents
destruction on a larger scale, which would have included extensive loss of
life. This divine council also concludes the first of the Iliad’s three sequences
(Books 1–7), as do each of the three parallel instances in the Odyssey under
consideration (Od. 12.376–88, 13.127–58, 24.472–86).13

Ugaritic myth, the Iliad, and OT myth also have instances of divine
councils between the sky father and a wrathful god that do not lead to
apocalyptic destruction, but to the death of a single mortal.


In both the Aqhat and the Baal Cycle, the war goddess, Anat (see Louden 2006: 240–85
on her parallels with Athena), angrily confronts her father, Anu, in divine
councils. In the Aqhat, Anat covets a bow that the god Kothar (Hephaistos’
counterpart) has made for the title character. In exchange for the bow she
offers Aqhat eternal life, the companionship of the gods, but he refuses
her offer, insulting her in a scene reminiscent of Gilgamesh’s rejection
of Ishtar (VI.i–iii) and Diomedes’ criticism of Aphrodite (Il. 5.348–51).14
Incensed, Anat goes to El, and asks for and receives his permission to
cause Aqhat’s death
(CTA 17.vi.46–18.i.19).

The Iliad has a close parallel
in Athena’s divine council with Zeus (Il. 22.166–86) in which she obtains
permission to cause Hektor’s death
.

In the Iliad Athena serves as mentor
god for Akhilleus,
but as wrathful god for Hektor.15 In both myths the final
comments by El and Zeus are quite close:

Lay hold of what you desire, carry out what you wish,
The one who gets in your way may be struck down.
CTA 18.i.18–19


Act as your purpose would have you do, and hold back no longer.
Iliad 22.18616


It is not often realized that OT myth contains many divine councils,
a natural consequence of the Israelites’ earlier centuries of polytheism
before they converted to monotheism.17 Many OT myths thus employ
genres and motifs common to polytheistic mythic traditions, showing parallels
with other West Semitic traditions, such as Ugaritic, as well as with
Mesopotamian, and Egyptian. Consequently divine councils are not infrequent,
especially in Genesis, Psalms, and the prophetic books.18 Those
in Genesis are clear, if abbreviated: the expulsion from Eden (Gen. 3:22),

“The man has become like one of us,” and the Tower of Babel (Gen. 11:7),19

“Come, let us go down there and confuse their language.”
20

Though no one dies, god’s deliberate confusion of mortals resembles a contained apocalypse.

Athena similarly incapacitates the suitors in Odyssey Book 2, and
the angels strike the mob with temporary blindness in Genesis 19 (both
discussed in Chapter 2), episodes connected with subsequent apocalyptic
destruction.

But those most like Homeric divine councils are in Job and 1
Kings.

1 Kings 22:19–22 features a divine council quite close to Agamemnon’s
dream at Iliad 2.5–34.21 While two episodes at the beginning of Job
share features with that at Odyssey 1.27–95, as well as with those just noted
between El and Anat (Aqhat CTA 17.vi.46–18. i.19), and Zeus and Athena
(Il. 22.17–86).

As at Odyssey. 1.27–95, though many immortals are described as being
present, only two speak in the first divine council in Job:

The day came when the members of the court of heaven took their places in the
presence of the Lord, and the Adversary, Satan, was among them. The Lord asked
him where he had been. “Ranging over the earth,” said the Adversary, “from end
to end.” The Lord asked him, “Have you considered my servant Job? You will
find no one like him on earth, a man of blameless and upright life, who fears God
and sets his face against wrongdoing.”(Job 1:6–8)


OT myth’s emerging monotheism forces alterations on the traditional epic
triangle.
While Satan clearly occupies the function of the wrathful god,22
Yahweh’s position suggests a combination of both the sky father and the
mentor god
.

Like the Odyssey’s first divine council, this serves to focus the
narrative on the myth’s mortal protagonist, but it is Yahweh himself who
does so, whereas at Odyssey 1.480, it is Athena who first raises the topic of
Odysseus, suggesting Yahweh’s attitude toward Job is that of the mentor
god. But Yahweh’s concluding comment is essentially the same tag line El
says to Anat, and Zeus to Athena
(Il. 22.186), as he gives Satan free rein to
do almost anything he wants to Job, “Very well,” said the Lord, “All that
he has is in your power, but you must not touch him”
(Job 1:12), the sky
father’s presiding role.

Much as the Odyssey presents a second divine council very like the first
(Od. 5.3–43), the Book of Job has a second divine council very like its first
(Job 2:1–7).
Again, the only speakers are Yahweh, who voices his support
for Job, suggesting the traditional functions of both a mentor god and the
sky father, while Satan presses Yahweh to let him oppress Job in stronger
fashion (Job 2:4–5). Again the council concludes with a variation of the
same tag line we have seen three earlier times (Aqhat CTA 18.i.18–19,
Il. 22.186, Job 1:12), “The Lord said to the Adversary, ‘So be it. He is in
your power, only spare his life’”
(Job 2:6).

There is a further unexpected link between Job and the Aqhat. Aqhat’s father is Danel, who is himself
mentioned in OT myth as an example of the righteous man. Twice in
Ezekiel Danel and Job are paralleled, along with Noah, as key instances
of this type,
Even if these three men, Noah, Daniel, and Job, were there,
they would by their righteousness save none but themselves”
(Ezek. 14:14,
14:20, cf. Ezek. 28:3).23

This same specific subtype, a divine council between the sky father and
a wrathful god who plans sufferings for a single mortal, occurs again in
the Iliad in Agamemnon’s narrative about the goddess Ate. The king of
Mycenae describes a divine council between Zeus and Hera (Il. 19.100–13),
in which she thwarts his designs for Herakles, causing a life of struggles
and agony for Zeus’ special son.
Though the scene omits the usual tag line,
the overall dynamic is clearly the same. Zeus has given permission for the
wrathful god to cause sufferings for the protagonist of the myth (Herakles).
But in a key variation Zeus is unaware that he gives Hera license to cause
horrible sufferings for Herakles (as Anat did for Aqhat, Satan for Job, and
Athena for Hektor), a replay of Hera’s deception of him in Book 14 of the
Iliad (Chapter 6 notes parallels with Rebecca’s deception of Isaac). The
closest to this subtype in the Odyssey is not a divine council, but Poseidon’s
soliloquy when he sees Odysseus crossing the sea by raft (Od. 5.286–90,
377–9), the epic’s only divine monologue. The sea god announces his intent
to harass Odysseus just short of killing him
(Od. 5.286–90), which, as he
is fully aware, he is not permitted to do. The upshot is thus quite close
to Satan harassing Job. Neither Poseidon nor Satan is allowed to kill their
hated mortal, as do Anat and Athena
(Il. 22.186).

OT myth also features divine councils that lead to apocalyptic destruction,
but with a radical innovation.


In Exodus 32 and in Genesis 18, OT myth has two beings debating the severity of imminent apocalyptic destruction.
But instead of two gods, the “divine councils” are between Yahweh
and Moses (Exod. 32), and Yahweh and Abraham (Gen. 18).

In Exodus 32, when the Israelites rebel during Moses’ absence, and turn to other gods,
Yahweh wants to destroy them all:

The Lord said to Moses, “I have considered this people, and I see their stubbornness.
Now, let me alone to pour out my anger on them, so that I may
put an end to them and make a great nation spring from you.” Moses set himself
to placate the Lord his God: “Lord,” he said, “why pour out your anger
on your people, whom you brought out of Egypt with great power and a strong
hand? . . . Turn from your anger, and think betterof the evil you intend against your
people.” . . . So the Lord thought betterof the evil with which he had threatened his
people. (Exod. 32:9–14)


Moses, in talking Yahweh out of enacting a large-scale apocalypse against
the Israelites, replays the same dynamic we have seen three times in the
Odyssey (Od. 12.376–88, 13.127–58, 24.472–87), in Gilgamesh (Gilg. VI.iii–
iv), and in the Iliad (Il. 7.443–63), the specific subtype of divine council in
which Zeus talks a wrathful god down from full apocalyptic destruction
(Helios), or from destruction of a whole city (Poseidon), to a lesser degree
of violence, a contained apocalypse.

The dialogue between Moses and Yahweh is clearly a modified divine
council, in which a mortal, a patriarch and prophet, serves in place of
a god.
24

Having Moses act in a role traditionally assigned to a god is
thus a radical innovation. But in an even more surprising innovation, it
is Yahweh who serves the traditional function of the angry lesser god,
while Moses serves the function elsewhere given the sky father, to mediate
and adjudicate the concerns of the wrathful, lesser god.
We return
to this episode and compare it to events on Thrinakia in Chapters 10
and 13.

A similar episode concludes Genesis 18. Here, in a dialogue with Abraham,
Yahweh threatens to destroy the entire cities of Sodom and Gomorrah.
Abraham proceeds in much the same way as Moses in Exodus 32, getting
Yahweh to agree to spare the cities if he can find first fifty, but eventually
ten, righteous men
(Gen. 18:23–32).

The dynamic is the same. Their dialogue
is clearly adapted from traditional divine councils,
the same subtype
we have observed in the Odyssey (Od. 12.376–88, 13.127–58, 24.472–87) and
Gilgamesh (Gilg. VI.iii–iv).

The dialogue features the same radical innovation
seen in Exodus 32: it is Abraham who attempts to mediate, the
usual role of the sky father, while the wrathful Yahweh is in the traditional
role of the lesser god.


The outcome is different, however. Yahweh goes
ahead with the destruction of the entire cities, the usual, middle level of
apocalypse, not the contained apocalypse noted in all five other instances.
We reconsider the episode from additional perspectives in Chapters 2
and 13.

The Odyssey’s opening divine council also, if indirectly, points to a
contained apocalypse. Zeus specifically convenes the council to air his
complaint about humans:

For shame, how mortals blame the gods!
For they say evils come from us, when they themselves,
through their own recklessness, suffer pains beyond their share.
Odyssey. 1.32–4


Though he makes the complaint, Zeus neither expresses any animus, nor
recommends that the gods initiate events against mortals, but merely comments
on a general human failing.

The Atrahasis offers a loose parallel. Six
hundred years after their creation mortals have become so numerous, and
their noise so great, that the god Ellil complains at a divine council, which
he has apparently convened:

He addressed the great gods,
“The noise of mankind has become too much,
I am losing sleep over their racket.
Give the order that suruppu-disease shall break out.”

Atrahasis I.vii (Dalley translation)

Unlike Zeus, Enlil immediately initiates a plan to act on his complaint, and
destroy mortals in doing so.

Athena, the only other speaker at the divine council, responds to Zeus’
complaint about mortals’ irresponsibility, strongly concurring:

Our father, son of Kronos, highest of the lords,
to be sure, he, at least, lies in fitting destruction.
So let any other perish who would accomplish such acts!
Odyssey 1.45–7


Athena’s “such things” refers to Aigisthos’ exploits, that he
slew Agamemnon and “wooed” Klytaimnestra, though Hermes had earlier
warned him not to
(Od. 1.37–9).

Divine interdictions, a god commanding a
mortal not to do something, are often pivotal occasions in myth.
25 Mortals
are typically unable to uphold them, as is the case with Aigisthos. Zeus uses
Aigisthos for a specific instance of behavior to illustrate a larger pattern of
mortals’ conduct; Athena applies his consequent death to a larger body of
mortals, “So let any other perish who would accomplish such acts!” She
affirms Zeus’ complaint, and clearly predicts the death of the suitors by
so doing.26 They will execute both categories of Aigisthos’ wrongdoing:
they are wooing a married woman; they will attempt to kill Telemachos,
and then Odysseus. The destruction of all 108 suitors and their retinue
constitutes another contained apocalypse.


For the rest of the divine council Athena plays her usual role as Odysseus’
advocate and mentor. Though she agrees with Zeus’ paradigm of human
irresponsibility
, Odysseus clearly does not fit it, and she briefly lashes out
at Zeus, “Why then do you hate him so much, Zeus?” (Od. 1.62).

In the Aqhat, Baal, who serves as the mentor god for Danel (and Aqhat), has a
similar scene with El (CTA 17.i.16–34), and makes a similar complaint,

“Art thou indifferent to Dan’el, the Rapian?”


Like Athena’s scene with Zeus, this divine council occurs close to the beginning of its narrative,
and establishes the sky father’s supportive relationship with the designated
characters, Danel and Odysseus.

The Odyssey’s first divine council also has additional parallels with one
in the Aqhat (CTA 17.i.16–27) and one in the Kirta (CTA 15.ii.11–28).
All three belong to the same subtype, the sky father in dialogue with the
mentor god; all three focus on the hero’s son. After disabusing Athena of
the notion that he hates Odysseus, Zeus reveals that Poseidon’s wrath is
responsible for Odysseus’ failure to return home, but that now he will have
to yield to the other Olympians, who all support Odysseus’ return
(Od.
1.63–79). Athena will go to see Telemachos, to give him confidence, that he
may earn fame (Od. 1.88–95).

The Aqhat opens with Danel praying for a
son, while the Kirta begins with the title character yearning for an heir.

In the Odyssey, Telemachos is a young man, but was an infant when his father
last saw him, twenty years before.

The Aqhat quickly switches its focus
from Danel to his son, Aqhat, who remains the poem’s mortal protagonist.

Like the Aqhat the Odyssey quickly turns its focus to the hero’s son, by way
of the divine council (Od. 1.88–95). The parallel focus on the hero’s son in
the Aqhat and Kirta suggests that the Telemachy, sometimes thought a later
addition to the Odyssey, may be more traditional, part of the epic longer
than thought.


To sum up our discussion, epics such as Gilgamesh, the Iliad, the Aqhat,
the Kirta, and the Odyssey, tend to have two main subtypes of divine
councils. No matter how many other immortals are said to be in attendance,
the sky father figure is in dialogue either with the mentor god (Athena in
Odyssey 1 and 5, Shamash in Gilgamesh, Baal in the Aqhat), or the wrathful
god (Helios in Book 12 of the Odyssey, Poseidon in Book 13, Athena in
Book 24).

Divine councils between the sky father and the mentor god
tend to begin large actions, and occur, fittingly near the beginning of an
epic
(Od. 1.32–95, Aqhat CTA 17.i.16–27, cf. Aen. 1.223–97).

The opposite type, divine councils between the sky father and the wrathful god, tend
to conclude large actions, even whole sequences of an epic
(as is the case
at Od. 12.377–88, 13.128–58, 24.472–86; Il. 7.446–63; cf. Aen. 12. 791–842),
often resulting in apocalyptic destruction.

Given Athena’s importance in divine councils with Zeus in the Odyssey
(Od. 1.32–95, 5.3–42, 24.472–86; cf. Il. 8.5–40, 22.166–85), it is worth noting
that Gilgamesh, the Aqhat, the Baal Cycle, the Iliad, and the Odyssey (and the
Aeneid ) all have father-daughter divine councils
(Gilgamesh: Anu, Ishtar;
the Aqhat: El, Anat; Baal Cycle: El, Anat; Iliad: Zeus, Athena; Odyssey:
Zeus, Athena), which may be more than mere coincidence.27 In many
ways Athena’s relationship with Zeus resembles Anat’s relationship with
El. In particular Athena often gets her way with Zeus in divine councils,
as Anat does with El.28
 
Re: The Odyssey - question for all!

What an exciting thread! I read Odyssey and pretty much everything from Greek mythology in my early years. When I learned about hyperdymensional realities it all made so much sense.
THANK YOU Laura for connecting the dots again and also for your super human efforts to digest so much literature in such a short time.
Laura said:
This is so typical of what we have observed of hyperdimensional manipulations or what Mouravieff calls the "General Law". A certain person cannot be directly attacked, but 4D critters attempt to get to you through people around you, to hurt you, to entrap you, to wear you out. This "divine council" thing seems to be an attempt to relate that there are certain "laws" that govern the interactions between hyperdimensional beings and humans.
Just to add on this point, I often thought that given the Free will concept, which apparently rules our universe, manipulations from the upper storeys have to be indirect.
Now I wonder how can we fit those cases of direct interaction of "Gods" with humans be it alien abductions or flaming bushes into this scenario. Perhaps those are exemptions that confirm the general rule?
 
Re: The Odyssey - question for all!

Herr Eisenheim said:
Now I wonder how can we fit those cases of direct interaction of "Gods" with humans be it alien abductions or flaming bushes into this scenario. Perhaps those are exemptions that confirm the general rule?

That's why I think it is useful to analyze it, to see if we can extract some rules.

Obviously, Louden isn't thinking about hyperdimensional realities in his analyses, he's just examining a text from a scholarly and/or antiquarian point of view. But his analyses reveal many things to us as will be demonstrated, I think.
 
Re: The Odyssey - question for all!

I haven't read this book. It definitely looks interesting to read but I probably need more basic knowledge to interpret the story correctly.
 
Re: The Odyssey - question for all!

I've never read it either. But I've seen the classic movies a looooong time ago. I'm looking forward to this project as well. It sounds fascinating!
 
Re: The Odyssey - question for all!

Very interesting!! I find it interesting that Yahweh takes the role of the three gods (sky father, mentor and angry lesser god) at different moments.

Both Moses and Abraham were acting as the sky father, when Yahweh was being the 'angry lesser god'. So there is a mortal 'becoming' as 'powerful' as a god, and even having an influence over a god (as is the case with Moses). Almost as if Yahweh is degrading more and more, going from a sky father, to a lesser angry god, and even to one that doesn't listen to the 'sky father', which Abraham tried to be.

Which reminds me of what Reed wrote:

controversy of zion said:
The perversion thus accomplished may be traced in the Old Testament, where Moses first appears as
the bearer of the moral commandments and good neighbour, and ends as a racial mass-murderer, the moral
commandments having been converted into their opposites between Exodus and Numbers. In the course of
this same transmutation the God who begins by commanding the people not to kill or to covet their
neighbours' goods or wives, finishes by ordering a tribal massacre of a neighbouring people, only the virgins
to be saved alive!

Not sure yet what it means, just some thoughts!
 
Re: The Odyssey - question for all!

Theoxeny is the next vital concept to understand the relations between our reality and hyperdimensional realities. This seems to me to be directly tied into the concepts of STS vs STO. While we may live in an STS dominated world, apparently STO - understood correctly as the myth attempts to explain to us - is apparently the one thing that can remove us from the depredations of 4D STS beings. As we already suspect, the STO stance is not necessarily what we, from our limited human perspective, think of as being "good". So, again, the text is from Louden's "Homer's Odyssey and the Near East".

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Theoxeny
Odyssey 1, 3, 13–22, and Genesis 18–19

Hospitality myth in general, and theoxeny in particular, is one of the two
main types of myth that provide the Odyssey’s larger overarching structures.1

While romance forms the Odyssey’s outermost frame, and provides its
ending (the recognition scenes with Penelope and Laertes, Books 23–4),
theoxeny forms the frame directly within, providing the epic with its other
climax, the destruction of the suitors in Book 22.

I define hospitality myth simply as a mortal host entertaining or receiving a guest (usually a stranger of
unknown identity) into his dwelling.

Most of Books 1, 3–4, 9–10, 14–15, and
17–22 (with shorter treatments in Books 7–8), are detailed presentations of
hospitality myth. The anthropologist Pitt-Rivers is one of many to assert
the centrality of hospitality in the Odyssey (1977: 94), “Indeed the whole
work may be viewed as a study in the law of hospitality.”


Hospitality is sacred. Both the Odyssey (Od. 9.270–1; 14.283–4, 14.389,
17.155; cf. 3.346) and the Iliad (13.624–5) declare Zeus its special guardian.
As Bolin notes (2004: 39–40, 48), hospitality resembles sacrifice in being
similarly grounded in reciprocity, as in the formula, ... “I give, that
you may give.”

{Here we see glimmerings of the ancient meals together that exemplified true humans as opposed to "animal humans" as well as the washing of the feet, "do unto others" etc. We also see that in our present world, the greed of the power elite has made true hospitality - caring for others - impossible. In other words, our present civilization is an entirely inhospitable one and thus, according to the laws set out in the Odyssey, is due for destruction!}

Though written about Genesis 18–19, Bolin’s comments
about the dynamics of hospitality in ancient cultures are equally applicable
to Homeric episodes, and worth noting at length (2004: 45):

Hospitality was the creation of a temporary patronage relationship with the host
as patron and the guest as client. The motivation behind offering hospitality to a
stranger lay in the increased honor one had in assimilating a potential threat into
the community by asserting one’s superiority over the newcomer. Guests played
their role in this arrangement by acceptance of the offered hospitality. The practical
benefit of this arrangement was that it defused a confrontational moment with
the potential for violence. Reciprocity was essential to the arrangement’s success.

Hosts honored guests by extending favor and protection in order to increase their
own honor. Guests accepted the honor of the host and, in doing so, added to the
host’s honor as patron. For either party to be denied its due in the relationship
created the situation of injustice.


{This is obviously a pathological description of hospitality though it certainly may describe the motivations for it after "The Fall" and particularly in certain cultures where pathology had already begun to dominate. But I think we can see deeper into the concept, that it is an exact depiction of the STO principles.}

In hospitality myths the gods monitor these relationships to redress wrongs
committed against either party, guest or host.


Why does the Odyssey employ hospitality myth so frequently? Several
different factors encourage this mythic type. Polyphemos’ curse specifies
that Odysseus will return home late, with difficulty, in someone else’s ship
(Od. 9.534–5; cf. Teiresias’ and Kirke’s prophecies, Od. 11.114–15, 12.141).
The curse (chronologically earlier than the rest of the poem, except for brief
retrospective accounts such as Od. 19.393–466) thus dictates that Odysseus
will be destitute, a wanderer.

As a wanderer, Odysseus is thrust into a
dependent role, relying on the hospitality of those to whose shores he
now comes.

Odysseus’ own violation of hospitality in his encounter with
Polyphemos (Od. 9.216–32)2 helps bring about his transformation into a
wanderer.

Since much of the Telemachy thematically parallels Odysseus’
own wanderings,3 the prominence of hospitality scenes with the father
prompts related episodes featuring the son. Wandering also looms large as
a theme in romance, where, typically, the protagonist undergoes a drastic
reversal of fortune or status into a state of dependence (explored in Chapter
3).

Episodes of hospitality also provide a means for demonstrating Zeus’
thesis on mortals’ irresponsibility in the opening divine council.


The suitors, in their continual violation of hospitality, will conform to the pattern
Zeus figures in Aigisthos, mortals who ignore warnings from the gods, and
ignore the consequences of their own actions.4

{Here is where we see that the principles of STO include saying "no" to predation. Guests who come with a manipulative agenda, or who intend only to take or cause harm, are destroyed - they bring on their own destruction - though we will also see that it is often the role of the epic hero to act FOR the gods by effecting the destruction. This suggests, once again, that 4D realities are projected into 3D and we are often just actors on the stage for our higher selves.}


Theoxeny is the specific subset of hospitality myth in which, unknown
to the host, his guest (xenos) is a god (theos) in disguise. The Odyssey has an
unnamed suitor define the mythic type when Antino¨os strikes the disguised
Odysseus:

Antinoos, it is not well that you struck the unfortunate wanderer; you are accursed
if somehow he is one of the heavenly gods, since the gods do go about the cities,
seeming like strangers from other parts, taking on all sorts of forms, witnessing
both the arrogance and good behavior of men. (Odyssey 17.483–7
)

The passage not only defines what theoxeny is, but evokes the term, since
the unnamed suitor here juxtaposes the words for gods and guests, theoi xeinoisin (Od. 17.485).

Though the Odyssey initiates its first theoxeny when Athena appears as Mentes (Od. 1.105), it saves its
explicit definition of the type for Antinoos’ shocking act, behavior even
other suitors find offensive.

Theoxeny as a genre of myth explains why hospitality is sacred: any guest could be a god in disguise.

The Odyssey uses both kinds of myth, hospitality and theoxeny, to gauge its characters, as
indices of their morality.5 Hospitable characters are moral and pious; those
who violate hospitality not only act incorrectly, but offend the gods.

Theoxenies come in two opposite subtypes. When a disguised god comes
among mortals to test their hospitality, they either pass the test, or they fail
it. The situation allows no gray area, no middle ground.


I use positive theoxeny to denote a community correctly observing hospitality, and negative
theoxeny for a community that violates hospitality.

In both kinds of theoxeny the host is hospitable. It is the response of his surrounding community
that radically differs.


Instances of negative theoxeny are more dramatic,
prompting more intense narratives, usually segueing directly to an apocalypse

(Ovid, Metamorphoses 8.611–724, Genesis 19, Nonnus, Dionysiaca
18.35).

The Odyssey initiates a negative theoxeny as soon as Athena appears
among the suitors as Mentes (Od. 1.105). Athena’s wrath against the suitors
for violating hospitality in her presence takes up roughly one third of
the epic (Books 1, 13.376–96, 17–22). As often for Homeric epic,6 Old
Testament myth, in Genesis 18–19, offers the closest non-Greek parallels
for the Odyssey’s use of theoxeny.

Both the Odyssey and Genesis nuance their presentations of theoxeny
by also presenting positive theoxenies. When Telemachos visits Nestor in
Book 3, Athena accompanies him in the form of Mentor (Od. 3.31–384),
making the episode a theoxeny. Nestor and all his people observe correct
hospitality.

Genesis 18, when Abraham and Sara receive the disguised angels
as guests, is also a fully developed theoxeny in which all the mortals behave
as they should.


By giving examples of positive and negative theoxenies in
close proximity, the Odyssey and Genesis demonstrate to their audiences
how theoxeny works, allowing the stark difference in outcomes between
the two types to emerge with greater clarity.


Positive theoxeny demonstrates
how hospitality is supposed to function, the rewards in store for those who
correctly uphold it. Ovid also has narratives of each type: positive, the
myth of Hyrieus (Fasti 5.493–544); and negative, the myth of Baucis and
Philemon (Metamorphoses 8.611–724).

We will consider negative theoxeny
first, since it comes first in the Odyssey and has far greater impact on its
plot than positive theoxeny.


Negative Theoxeny: Odyssey 1, 13, 17–22, and Genesis 19


As noted in Chapter 1, the suitors’ death is implied in Athena’s remark
about Aigisthos’ death in the opening divine council, “So may any other
perish who would accomplish such acts!”
(Od. 1.45–7). Neither Athena
nor Zeus mentions the suitors’ violation of hospitality. Athena’s stated
purpose for coming to Ithaka is to prompt Telemachos to become a hero
(Od. 1.88–95). However, as soon as she appears in Ithaka in the guise of
Mentes, the Odyssey initiates its first theoxeny. As at Odyssey 17.485, Athena,
a theos, appearing as a xenos, not only starts the mythic genre, but
evokes its name as well.

Xenos (Homeric xeinos) has a variety of meanings: a stranger (not from around here), a guest, and a
host.


Mentes is a stranger, unknown in Ithaka. She will claim that her
father was Odysseus’ host on an earlier occasion (Od. 1.187–8, 257–64),
invoking the other meanings latent in xenos. Upset that a guest would
have to stand, waiting to be seated (Od. 1.118–20), Telemachos is first to
notice her. Greeting her, he takes her by the hand, and seats her, while
attendants bring water for washing, food, and drink (Od. 1.121–43). He
has already passed the test, implicit in any theoxeny, offering commendable
hospitality to the disguised god.
But since the host demonstrates his
hospitality in both subtypes of theoxeny, this episode could still go either
way.

What tilts this episode into a negative theoxeny is the suitors’ behavior,
Athena’s reaction to it, and the implied violence in her anecdote about
Odysseus’ visit to her father’s house.


Before his guest says anything, Telemachos
raises the suitors as a topic of concern several times. When he seats
her, he selects a secluded spot, lest his guest be disturbed by their uproar
(Od. 1.133), since they are overbearing, implying violence and insolence Telemachos complains that
they feast on his goods without recompense (Od. 1.159–65). Even his initial
frustration that a guest would have to stand and wait (Od. 1.119–20) indirectly
suggests concern over the suitors’ behavior while a guest is present
(S. West 1988: 97).

The disguised Athena asserts that she and Odysseus were
“paternal guest-friends” (Od. 1.187), later specifying
that he visited her father seeking a poison to put on his arrows
(Od. 1.257–64). When he failed to obtain the poison from another man,
Athena/Mentes claims her father, fond of Odysseus, gave him the poison
he sought. Commentators have focused too much on whether or not
Athena invents this unusual story,8 and too little on its thematic function
in the Odyssey’s plot. While the unusual detail helps validate her claim
about Odysseus’ visit by conjuring up specific circumstances, it also evokes
a violent undercurrent. What would Odysseus’ purpose be in applying
poison to his arrows?


Sandwiched between the two brief accounts of Odysseus’ visit to her
father’s house is Athena’s reaction to the suitors, the most important detail
in the episode. Noting their continual feasting, she wonders what occasion
prompts it:

How reckless they seem to me, feasting in their arrogance throughout
the palace! Should a righteous man come among them he’d be outraged, seeing
their many disgraceful acts! (Odyssey 1.227–9)


While her assessment helps strengthen her bond with Telemachos, establishing
her as a father figure (as his own reaction implies: Od. 1.307–8), the
audience recognizes a far more serious consequence. Central to the workings
of theoxeny, either positive or negative, is the irony that results from
the host being unaware of his guest’s divine identity, which the audience
fully perceives.9 “Mentes’” remarks are thus not merely the sympathetic
observations of a family friend, but the judgment, even the doom (in that
word’s older sense) of a god in whose presence the suitors have violated a
sacred institution. Athena now has a divine wrath directed against them,
until their destruction is accomplished.


Only after her judgment on the suitors does “Mentes” give Telemachos
the provocative details about Odysseus seeking poison for his arrows (Od.
1.257–64). She prefaces mention of the poison with a wish to see Odysseus
now as he was then, fully armed, with helmet, shield, and two spears
(Od. 1.256). Just before seeing Mentes, Telemachos was fantasizing about
his father returning, scattering the suitors (Od. 1.115–17). The juxtaposition
of his mental picture with Mentes’ arrival suggests that Telemachos
will associate Mentes’ visit with his father. When Athena suggests a violent
potential in Odysseus, armed with two spears, seeking poison for his
arrows, she points, if indirectly, to his slaying of the suitors,10 the contained
apocalypse that this negative theoxeny, the suitors’ violation of hospitality,
now moves toward. Odysseus will be armed with two spears when he goes
against the suitors (Od. 22.101, 125, though this is standard equipment
for the Homeric warrior). While in Book 1 the violence is only implied,
when Odysseus first returns to Ithaka, Athena demands such destruction,
declaring she expects “his immense floor to be splattered with the suitors’
blood and brains”
(Od. 13.395).


{Now, this may sound pretty negative, but I think we need to consider many things the Cs have said about STO vs STS, on one occasion saying "give the lie what it ASKS for: the truth." Ra noted that what manipulation to give up one's free will demands a negative response. The Cs remark about the human experiential cycle also comes in here: human experience what they bring on themselves. The only positive thing about these apocalyptic events is the thread running throughout the text of the survival of the "one good man" or "one good group". Again we notice that Odysseus is the INSTRUMENT of the goddess' wrath.}

This prefigured violence, the eventual result of Athena’s wrath against
the suitors, is suggested even earlier in the description of her spear as she
prepares to descend from Olympos,11

She took up her stout spear, furnished with a sharp bronze point,
heavy, great, and strong, with which she subdues the ranks
of heroes, those at whom she of the mighty father is angered.
Odyssey 1.99–101


As Walsh shows the verb used here of Athena’s anger, denotes long-term anger,
especially the kind of divine wrath that figures in an apocalypse.

Nowhere in the Odyssey or Iliad does Athena actually wield her spear against mortals (though she does
wound Ares with it: Il. 21.406). But in each epic she is angry at a group
of heroes, the Trojans, collectively, in the Iliad, and, as a result of their
own actions in Book 1, the suitors in the Odyssey. In each epic, at the
same respective point, she aids the protagonist as he uses his spear against
each poem’s primary antagonists, Akhilleus against Hektor (Il. 22.325–7),
and Odysseus against the suitors (Od. 22.262 and ff.).


This is another aspect of Athena’s function as mentor to the hero: she aids him in his
greatest battles, as Shamash aids Gilgamesh against Humbaba (Gilg. V.i–ii;
V.137–47 in George [2003]). Accordingly, both Homeric epics employ the
tableau-like description of Athena taking up her spear,12 to figure, in a kind
of shorthand, the outcome of each narrative, the protagonists defeating
their antagonists, aided by an eager Athena.13


Negative Theoxeny in Genesis 19

Since, as Book 1 prefigures, Odysseus will carry out the destruction of the
suitors, the Odyssey puts full development of its negative theoxeny on hold
until he returns to Ithaka.


Before considering how the Odyssey resumes this
thread, we first explore negative theoxeny in OT myth, the destruction of
Sodom and Gomorrah.

Genesis 19, in its close parallels, provides a context
for interpreting the Odyssey.The myth begins, as does the negative theoxeny
in Odyssey 1, by depicting the immortals’ arrival to the city that is to be
tested.

There are two immortals in Genesis 19,14 both unnamed angels.

As Telemachos sits apart from the suitors in Book 1, Lot initially sits by the city
gate, apart from the other inhabitants. Lot, like Telemachos, is first to see the
strangers, and rises to greet them. Offering hospitality, he persuades them
to come to his house, bathe their feet, and spend the night. After he serves
them a meal, and has clearly passed the implicit test imposed on the host, a
mob of men of all ages gathers around his house.

This is essentially the point at which the Odyssey has interrupted the progress of its negative theoxeny.

There are clear parallels in the roles played by Athena and the two angels,
by Telemachos and Lot, and especially close, by the suitors and the mob.

Since Genesis is not using its negative theoxeny as part of a heroic epic
whose protagonist is far from home, it has no need to delay or interrupt
its conclusion, as does the Odyssey. It seems likely, then, that the Odyssey
is innovating, both in interrupting its theoxeny, and pausing for such a
great length before concluding it.


{On the other hand, perhaps it is not the Odyssey that is innovating since the delay of the conclusion of the theoxeny is part of the ring structure which is a solid piece of evidence for the antiquity of the story and the means by which it encodes its meaning.}

In this respect the Odyssey’s complex
manipulation and placement of the genres of myth is more reminiscent of
Ovid’s techniques for interweaving myths in the Metamorphoses than what
we might expect of an epic rooted in oral tradition.

{This remark actually contradicts Louden's theses about the complex ring structure of the Odyssey. This area of research is certainly problematical, politically speaking, and scholars must beware the wrath of Zionists. I suspect that this is just such an obfuscation.}


Following the Odyssey’s model, we interrupt our consideration of Genesis 19’s negative theoxeny,
to resume it, as does the Odyssey, after first exploring the opposite type, positive theoxeny.

Positive Theoxeny: Odyssey 3 and Genesis 18:1–15

In Book 1, Athena instructs Telemachos to go to Pylos to see if Nestor
knows of Odysseus’ whereabouts (Od. 1.284). Athena, now in the guise
of Mentor, provides a ship (Od. 2.287) and crew, and accompanies him,
thereby turning a hospitality scene into a theoxeny, though not often
noted as such.
15 When they arrive Nestor is leading 500 of his people
in a lavish offering to Poseidon, the largest-scale sacrifice in the poem.
Though busy with this enterprise, the Pylians graciously receive the two
unexpected guests. Nestor’s son Peisistratos is first to see them, taking
them to seats next to Nestor himself to partake of the feast (Od. 3.34–9).
Peisistratos continues exemplary hospitality by asking “Mentor,” that is
Athena, to make the prayer accompanying the sacrifice, telling her, “all
men need the gods” (Od. 3.48), the epic’s simplest statement of piety.
Such sentiments typify the episode, and positive theoxenies.

A pleased Athena goes on to make the prayer,
with irony typical of theoxeny, “so she prayed but she herself was bringing
everything to completion”
(Od. 3.62).

Peisistratos’ piety is also implicit acknowledgment that Nestor raised
him and his brothers to be so. Nestor’s piety and exemplary hospitality
establish him as a highly moral man.
16 Commentators rightly emphasize
how Nestor’s own family members perform tasks for the guests that are
elsewhere performed by servants.
17

It is more typical of theoxeny than of hospitality myth that family members perform the main duties.18
The pious Nestor reasons that since Athena used to aid Odysseus at Troy she might now do the same for Telemachos:

If only gray-eyed Athena might wish to love you
as she then deeply cared for renowned Odysseus
in the land of the Trojans, where we Achaians suffered pains.
For never have I seen the gods openly display their love
as when Pallas Athena then openly stood by him.
Odyssey 3.218–24


In irony more typical of the Odyssey’s later books (14–21), where characters
think about and discuss, but cannot recognize the disguised Odysseus
before them, Nestor correctly reasons that Athena could help Telemachos,
though unaware she is actually doing so.19

Nestor honors the gods in exactly the ways that myths portray the gods as expecting mortals to act.

Irony of a more comic sort appears in Telemachos’ reaction to Nestor’s
observation. In one of the Odyssey’s most humorous scenes, with the disguised
Athena looking on, Telemachos (with the audience well aware of
her extensive aid to him), refutes Nestor, denying the goddess would help
him. “Mentor” firmly corrects him:

Telemachos, what sort of word has escaped the fence of your teeth?
Easily a god, should he wish, can save a man, even from a distance.
Odyssey 3.230–1


Athena playfully underscores her point with word play on his name, Telemachos,
“Fighter from a distance.’ ” The first component, tˆele-, “distant,” is
the same as the antepenultimate word of the next line, tˆelothen, “from a
distance”;

“Even from a distance a god can save a man, oh ‘Fighter from a
distance.’”20


As comparison with Genesis 18 will show, positive theoxenies
include humorous interaction once the host has demonstrated his piety.


Genesis features a positive theoxeny in Abraham’s hospitable reception
of the angels (Gen. 18:1–15), a close parallel to Nestor and Athena in Odyssey
3. As at Pylos, each detail of Abraham’s reception of his disguised divine
guests is a generic, traditional, motif, extant in other narratives. Yahweh
and two angels, in the form of unnamed men, appear to Abraham as he
sits outside his tent (Gen. 18:1–2).21 As soon as he sees them Abraham
approaches22 (cf. Peisistratos in Odyssey 3, and Telemachos in Book 1), and
extends hospitality.23 Offering water to wash their feet, cakes, a (sacrificed)
calf, curds and milk, Abraham himself waits on them while they eat (Sara
prepares the cakes)
.24

Having easily passed the hospitality test, Abraham receives a blessing
and prophecy. Yahweh, or an angel, says he will come back in a year and
Sara will have given birth to a son, an instance of Reece’s motif XIV. Visitor
pronounces a blessing on the host. The blessing functions similarly to Athena
saying the prayer in the sacrifice to Poseidon, after having first blessed
Nestor and his sons (Od. 3.57). In doing so, she enacts two of Reece’s
elements, XV. Visitor shares in a libation or sacrifice, and XIV. Visitor pronounces
a blessing on the host.

But Sara, eavesdropping, laughs at the seeming
absurdity of her giving birth at such an advanced age (Gen. 18:12). Yahweh
subsequently corrects her, “Is anything impossible for the Lord?” (Gen.
18:14). His doing so is the same motif as Athena correcting Telemachos
(“Even from a distance a god can save a man,”
Od. 3.230–1).

Both Telemachos, in refusing to believe that Athena would help him, and Sara, by not
believing the guest’s claim that she will bear a son, imply limits on the
gods’ powers. Each god is quick to disabuse the doubter, without becoming
wrathful.
What each character refuses to believe (that Athena would
help Telemachos, that Sara would bear a son) is something the god gives
because the hosts have earlier earned a boon by their exemplary hospitality.

Both positive theoxenies employ wordplays on proper names at this
point.
Sara’s laughing is an apparent allusion to a folk etymology associating
the name Isaac with a verb of laughing and smiling, as Speiser notes on
Genesis 17:17 (1962: 123: “Heb. yishaq, play on ‘Isaac’”).25 In each case
the wordplay is connected with the character being corrected,
Sara and
Telemachos.

Sara’s laughter at the divine prediction is mentioned four
times (Gen. 18:12, 13, and twice in 15). In both instances the wordplay is on
the name of the son of the hero (Isaac, son of Abraham, Telemachos, son
of Odysseus)
, and is thematic, occurring in several passages.26

The parallels in their receptions of the divine guests reveal additional
links between the hosts, Nestor and Abraham. Abraham is the first of a
series of patriarchs in Genesis, including Jacob and Joseph. Just before the
positive theoxeny, Yahweh defines Abraham as such a figure:

I shall make you father of many nations. I shall make you exceedingly fruitful; I
shall make nations out of you, and kings shall spring from you. (Genesis 17:5–6)27

Genesis 18 initiates Abraham as patriarch by highlighting the dramatic
birth of his first son. Until Abraham has legitimate male offspring he
cannot be the patriarch Yahweh has declared. Indeed, there would be
no Old Testament without the birth of this son. The OT authors thus
dramatically highlighted the story of Isaac’s birth by setting it within a
positive theoxeny, a genre of myth that underscores Abraham’s respect for
god, showing he deserves to be the patriarch he will now become.


Nestor, too, is such a figure, if on a slightly smaller scale. He leads a highly
moral community, having reached an age and fathered offspring to a degree
that establish him as a patriarch, the same mythic type as Abraham in OT
myth.28 Both men are preternaturally old. Telemachos refers to Nestor
having ruled over three generations of men (Od. 3.245; cf. Il. 1.250–2), and
describes his appearance as like an immortal (Od. 3.246, literally, like one
who is “deathless,). Two of Nestor’s most frequent epithets in
Homer are “old,” and “old man.”

Abraham is ninety-nine years old shortly before the episode (Gen. 17:1). Both men are leaders of
peoples or clans (cf. Nestor’s epithet “shepherd of the people” [Od. 3.469,
15.151, 17.109; Il. 2.85, 10.73, 23.411, cf. 9.81]).29

The numerous parallels between the two episodes reveal that Greek
and OT myth each adapted the same specific subgenre of myth, positive
theoxeny with a number of highly specific shared elements.


The host in both narratives is a patriarch, who has or will have many sons, and holds
sway over whole peoples. Both narratives employ thematic wordplays on the
name of the protagonist’s son. The key difference is Peisistratos’ prominence
in Odyssey 3, and Sara’s in Genesis 18. With no son yet born, Sara is the only
other family member who could figure in the narrative, and consequently
functions much like Peisistratos in Odyssey 3.

It is worth briefly noting Ovid’s positive theoxeny (Fasti 5.493–544).
Three immortals, Jupiter, Neptune, and Mercury, come to Hyrieus, who
owns a small farm, greets them, and offers them hospitality (Fasti 5.494–
502). While he heats two pots of food, he serves them wine. But after
Hyrieus has served the disguised Neptune, the sea god declares that the
next cup will go to Jupiter. After the meal, when Jupiter asks what he
desires, Hyrieus responds “a son,” though he is not married (Fasti 5.523–
30). Jupiter and the other two gods then take the hide of the sacrificed
ox and . . . Ovid doesn’t say. Claiming he is ashamed to, he continues that
the gods buried the reeking hide in the earth, and ten months later, a son
was born. Gantz (1993: 273) assumes that “they cover it with their semen.”
Others think the gods urinate on it, with which the son’s name, Orion,
has been associated as a folk etymology. In spite of the bizarre method of
conception, the tale parallels much of Abraham’s in Genesis 18. In both
positive theoxenies the host wishes for a son (cf. the Ugaritic myths Aqhat
and Kirta). In each case a miraculous conception occurs as reward for the
host’s correct hospitality. An apparent wordplay on the son’s name may
occur, as in both other positive theoxenies.

The Odyssey’s innovation on Theoxeny

Theoxeny is not typically a heroic genre of myth. Lot, Hyrieus, and Baucis
and Philemon30 are not heroic characters: good, moral people, yes.

The Odyssey innovates considerably in increasing theoxeny’s potential for
heroic action, making it more suitable for epic.


The suitors’ destruction, inevitable once Athena witnesses their desecration of hospitality, is postponed
until Odysseus’ return to Ithaka.

In Genesis 19, by contrast, Sodom andGomorrah are destroyed the night they violate hospitality (cf. Metamorphoses
8.689–97).

But in the second half of the Odyssey, Odysseus himself
plays the role normally played by the outraged immortal. Substituting
for a god, Odysseus will act as the instrument of Athena’s divine wrath
against the suitors.31 The suitors’ destruction will be a heroic act or labor,
not rained down from heaven, as in Genesis 19 and Baucis and Philemon

(Metamorphoses 8.689–97).

When Odysseus returns to Ithaka, after his recognition scene with
Athena (Od. 13.221–86),32 the goddess and the hero plot strategy against
the suitors. Though their meeting is portrayed as a joint deliberation
(Od. 13.373, 376, 439), it is Athena who declares what his course of action
will be, and how he is to proceed.

He is to keep everyone in the dark (Od. 13.308–9), implicitly even Penelope and Laertes.

In essence Athena initiates another genre of myth, The king returns, unrecognized and abused
in his own kingdom
(Od. 13.309–10, analyzed in Chapter 12), in her general
statement that “he must endure many pains in silence, accepting violence
from men”. Her declaration resembles prophecies of Christ treated with
abuse in the gospels (e.g., Matt. 16:21; Luke 18:32). She
specifies that he is to make trial of his wife (Od. 13.336), but relays this
in a way making it difficult to tell if she means such
is Odysseus’ manner, or that this is her plan. He will have an impenetrable
disguise (literally “disfigured” Od. 13.402), and implicitly be
a xeinos, stranger/guest, used of the disguised Odysseus a few lines later
(Od. 14.56). His first move will be to stay with the swineherd, and test him
(Od. 13.411).

Duals, the grammatical number between singular and plural, help
emphasize how the Odyssey transforms theoxeny into a more heroic genre
of myth than is usual. The close teamwork of hero and god is expressed
grammatically: they are yoked in several words in the dual number. ...

In a further index of this heroic modality,Odysseus asks Athena to stand
by him in ways similar to the beginning of an aristeia (Od. 13.387). The
Iliad initiates an aristeia by having a god, most frequently Athena, put
menos, “battle might” (or a close equivalent, tharsos and kratos), in the best
of the Achaians (Il. 5.1–2, 19.47–54, cf. 19.37).33 Odysseus, conforming to
the Iliad’s convention, asks Athena to put menos in him and to stand beside him.

OT myth has a parallel conception of Yahweh infusing “spirit” in a hero before
his great battle (Josh. 1:5, 5:13–14; Judg. 3:10, 6:12–14, 6:34, 11:29, 13:25,
14:6, 14:19, 15:14). Shamash’s relationship with Gilgamesh is perhaps the
earliest such depiction of this special relationship between the hero and his
mentor god.34 Athena affirms that she will stand by him (Od. 13.393–4), as
she earlier defined their relationship (Od. 13.300–1).

Taken together, the two passages suggest a
core conception of god and hero working as partners.


What emerges from the scene in Book 13, then, is a striking interweaving
of the roles of Athena and Odysseus for the remainder of the poem. The
goddess defines Odysseus as her own counterpart
(Od. 13.296–9), each
as master of disguise and deception. Her subsequent agenda calling for
Odysseus to be in disguise turns much of the second half of the Odyssey
into a virtual theoxeny, in which Odysseus now serves as the god in disguise,
testing the hospitality of the Ithakans.


But perhaps the most striking element in Athena’s plans for the suitors is
her declaration that she expects Odysseus’ “immense floor to be spattered
with the suitors’ blood and brains” (Od. 13.395). Her graphic, violent
intent resembles the traditions of Anat, a West Semitic virgin war goddess,
worshipped by Phoenicians, and Egyptians under the Ramesside Pharaohs.

The Homeric Athena has much in common with Anat.35 OT myth’s
conception of a wrathful Yahweh has similarly graphic passages (e.g., Jer.
46:10; Isa. 34:2–4, 6), none more so than this exchange between Isaiah and
Yahweh,

Why are your clothes all red,
like the garments of one treading grapes in the winepress?
. . . I trod the nations in my anger,
I trampled them in my fury,
and their blood bespattered my garments
and all my clothing was stained . . .
I stamped on peoples in my anger,
I shattered them in my fury
and spilled their blood over the ground.
(Isaiah 63:2–3, 6)


Athena’s vivid declaration that she expects the floor to be “spattered with
the suitors’ blood and brains,” sounds some of the same notes as Isaiah’s
wrathful Yahweh. Her final words include a prophecy of the suitors’
destruction (Od. 13.427–8).

continued...
 

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