Homer Odyssey 24.1

The god Hermes conducts the psūkhai ‘spirits’ of the dead suitors from the world of light and life into a world of darkness and death. Another way to think of these two distinct worlds is picture consciousness on one side and unconsciousness on the other side. Situated between these two worlds here are five mythological landmarks: the cosmic river Ōkeanos, O.24.011; the White Rock (leukas petrā), O.24.011; the Gates (pulai) of Hēlios the Sun, O.24.012; the District (dēmos) of Dreams (oneiroi), O.24.012, and, finally, the Meadow (leimōn) of Asphodel (the flower asphodelos). In other Homeric contexts, it would be sufficient for only one of these five landmarks, the Ōkeanos, to figure as a separator of light and life from darkness and death, of consciousness from unconsciousness. See especially the comments at O.10.508–512 O.11.012–019, O.11.020–022, O.12.001–004. In the present context, four other separators are listed, each one of which can be considered a multiform that has the same kind of built-in function of referring to a separator and a meeting-point between two opposite worlds. In Homeric poetry, there is no other attestation of the White Rock or of the District of Dreams, although other poetry shows traces of such landmarks (as in Alcman PMG 1.45–49; comments at GMP 224). But Homeric poetry does refer elsewhere to the Gates of the Sun: see the comments at I.05.395–404, I.05.646, I.11.671–761, I.23.071–076, O.04.809; see also the anchor comment at I.08.367 on the Gates of Hādēs and the anchor comment at I.23.071–076 on what the psūkhē ‘spirit’ of Patroklos really wants for itself—and for Achilles (Points 5 and 6 and 9). As for the Meadow of Asphodel, see the comment at O.24.014–023.

Before the Odyssey comes to an end, the Singer of Tales reaches back to what seems to be the beginning of the Iliad. It is as if the second epic, the Odyssey, could now restart before it ends by reaching back into the first epic, the Iliad. Still, there will be no restart here. The plot of that first epic had started with a grand feud between Achilles and Agamemnon, but the plot of the second epic will now come to an end with a resolution of that feud. The feuding is over, so that the two main characters of the Iliad can now take time to review not only what happened in the Iliad but also, beyond the Iliad, how the two of them died, each his own way. Since they are now dead, they have to speak ghost to ghost, but that is not enough for Agamemnon. He must also speak with the new ghosts, the suitors, who will now give him a retrospective on the Odyssey. This way, Agamemnon can compare the story of his own life with the stories of both Odysseus and Achilles. And the comparison must be most depressing for him. But the Odyssey does not end with the sad thoughts of Agamemnon. Odysseus still has to reconnect with his own ancestors, and so there needs to be a final recognition scene between the son and his father Laertes. But even after this reconnection of the generations is finally achieved, the story is still not done. The feuding that has been triggered by the killing of the suitors must end; otherwise, the story cannot end.

“Mercury Conducting the Souls of the Suitors to the Infernal Regions” (1805). John Flaxman (English, 1755–1826). Purchased as part of the Oppé Collection with assistance from the National Lottery through the Heritage Lottery Fund 1996. Image via the Tate.

See the comment at O.5.047.

As the psūkhai ‘spirits’ of the dead suitors are being conducted by the god Hermes toward their ultimate otherworldly destination, which is unspecified, they come to a place called the Meadow of Asphodel, O.24.013, which is an abode for psūkhai ‘spirits’ described here as eidōla ‘images’ of the dead, O.24.014. Elsewhere in Homeric diction, I.23.072 and O.11.476, this same description applies to disembodied spirits of the dead who populate a mystical place that resembles what is known in other contexts as Hādēs. But the Meadow of Asphodel is not exactly Hādēs. Elsewhere in Homeric diction, this Meadow is where the spirit of Achilles himself abides, O.11.539. Also, at O.11.573, the Meadow of Asphodel is pictured as a “happy hunting ground”—to borrow an image from the Great Plains tribes of native Americans—where the great hunter Orion can hunt for all time to his heart’s content, O.11.572–575. In the Homeric Hymn to Hermes, verses 221 and 344, the same Meadow of Asphodel becomes a pathway for the Cattle of the Sun after Hermes steals this solar herd from Apollo. And now, as we see here at O.O.24.013 just as we saw earlier at O.11.539, the Meadow of Asphodel is once again featured as the place where the psūkhē ‘spirit’ of Achilles is to be found: here he is, in the company of other psūkhai ‘spirits’, who are listed in the following order: Patroklos, Antilokhos, Ajax, O.24.015–018. In this same context, Ajax is described as the second-best of the Achaeans, after Achilles, O.24.017–018. This company of psūkhai ‘spirits’ is now joined by the psūkhē of Agamemnon, who is coming from some other direction, at the head of another company of psūkhai ‘spirits’—those who had been killed together with Agamemnon by Aigisthos after they had made their way back home from Troy, O.24.021–022. At this point, we might have expected the psūkhē of Agamemnon to address the psūkhai ‘spirits’ of the dead suitors, asking them directly: how did you all die? And then I will tell you how we died. But such a dialogue is postponed till O.24.099–105. Instead, here at O.24.023, it is Achilles himself—or, let us say, it is his psūkhē ‘spirit’—who initiates a dialogue with the psūkhē ‘spirit’ of Agamemnon. You would think that the psūkhē ‘spirit’ of Achilles had only now for the first time encountered the psūkhē ‘spirit’ of Agamemnon since he died. But, as we will see at O.24.024–034, Achilles already knows what happened to Agamemnon and to his followers after they had made their way back home from Troy: they died an ignominious death, through the treachery of Aigisthos. Conversely, as we will see at O.24.036–097, Agamemnon already knows what happened to Achilles: he never went home because he died at Troy, but his glorious death there earned him the greatest honors.

On the parallelism of Antilokhos and Patroklos as dearest companions of Achilles, see especially the comment at I.23.326–343.

Although the gender of psūkhē ‘spirit’ in referring here to the spirits of Achilles and Agamemnon is feminine, O.24.023 and O.24.035, the pronouns referring to the two dead heroes in the narrative that frames their dialogue continue to show the masculine gender, and the use of the feminine gender is discontinued altogether in the wording of the actual I-you dialogue: instead, as Achilles and Agamemnon proceed to speak to each other at O.24.024–034 and at O.24.036–097 respectively, they revert in their I-you dialogue to the masculine gender that they once had owned as speakers in Homeric narrative. The dialogue between the psūkhē ‘spirit of Achilles and the psūkhē ‘spirit’ of Agamemnon frames a retrospective retelling of stories, taken separately, about what the two heroes had achieved at Troy—after all is said and done. In the case of Agamemnon, the retelling centers on his ultimate failure as a character in his own story. In the case of Achilles, on the other hand, the retelling centers on his ultimate success—despite his death. The verses at O.24.024–034 are spoken by the psūkhē ‘spirit’ of Achilles, O.24.023, who is addressing the psūkhē ‘spirit’ of Agamemnon: too bad, Achilles says without gloating, that things did not work out well for you. Then the verses at O.24.036–097 are spoken by the psūkhē ‘spirit’ of Agamemnon, O.24.035, who in turn addresses the psūkhē ‘spirit’ of Achilles: without attempting to detract from the glory in store for Achilles, Agamemnon retells, in second-person narrative, the death and funeral and entombment of Achilles. You were killed; we arranged for your funeral and for funeral games in your honor; and then we made a tomb for you.

In these verses spoken by the psūkhē ‘spirit of Achilles to the psūkhē ‘spirit’ of Agamemnon, O.24.024–034, the outcome of the story about Agamemnon is a foil for the outcome of the subsequent story about Achilles. Whereas Achilles will get glory for dying on the battlefield at Troy, away from home, Agamemnon gets no glory for his ignominious death back home: see the note at O.24.030–034. What gives the story of Achilles a “happy ending,” as we will see in the commentary ahead, is the glory that he gets not only from his death on the battlefield but also from his funeral and his entombment in the environs of Troy. On the tomb of Achilles, see the anchor comment at O.24.076–084.