Odysseus says that “the great force was gone, the strength lost forever” (262), an observation so wrought with suggestion about some distinct finality of death that, when associated with Agamemnon-with whom he fought beside for a decade, with whom he watched thousands die-one almost expects Odysseus to be knocked over backwards by the blinding truth of it all.īut instead he is, again, seized by elements of the living, simultaneously overcome with sadness (“So we stood there, trading heartsick stories, / deep in grief, as the tears streamed down our faces” ) and distracted by the fruit of Agamemnon’s bitterness, manifested in the form of advice (“when you reach your homeland steer your ship / into port in secret, never out in the open…/ the time for trusting women’s gone forever! ). This, again, dawns on Odysseus to some degree when Agamemnon first attempts to embrace him. Odysseus’ meeting with the ghost of Agamemnon is similarly characterized by the stark contrast between their state of being and what they discuss: the consequences of Agamemnon’s death, not the fact of his being dead (and of Odysseus being alive) in itself. This most simple geographical image demonstrates clearly the figurative impassible division between Odysseus and Elpenor Elpenor, who may by himself represent the all-encompassing nature of death, which despite his youth stole his breath as mercilessly as it did Odysseus’ mother or fellow super-warriors, is now incomprehensible to Odysseus. The encounter then ends with a revealing parting between the two characters, for Odysseus describes their position as, “I on my side, holding my sword above the blood”-where the living make their abodes-“he across from me there…” (252)-where the dead stake their wanderings. Yet as we wait to see how his tangential discernment will affect Odysseus, the conversation shifts to the practical matter of a proper burial for Elpenor, with no hint of how coming face-to-face with a dead shipmate may alter Odysseus’ outlook in some way. He alludes to it in his heartsick greeting: “‘Elpenor, / how did you travel down to the world of darkness? / Faster on foot, I see, than I in my black ship’” (251). This suggests something about the constant proximity of death, about its quality of suddenness, of swiftness, which is not lost on Odysseus. Just a few hours ago-in book-time, not three pages ago-he was breathing, and then, before the characters or the audience can even digest his death, he stands lifeless before the hero. Ultimately, after Odysseus ventures into the Kingdom of the Dead, he isn’t endowed with the wisdom to fathom death in its gravity and implications any more than he was before in fact his exploits there suggest that understanding of death will have no profound influence on his life path.Įlpenor appearing to Odysseus, first of all the spirits, generates significant shock value that cannot be overlooked. Several times Odysseus seems close to discovering some deathly mystery, brushing the stardust off some universally kept secret, like a skull long buried but the moment transforms itself rather quickly into another shape, like grief or warning, more suited for the realm of living. He emerges a little puffy-eyed, but very much himself. And as ghostly whispers blow across the hair on his arms we expect him to return traumatized, changed, darkly enlightened-but no.

Yet the hero Odysseus braves the unknown and looks into the eyes of death. It is a disturbing idea when the dead visit our world, we can at least find comfort in numbers. Even in fairy tales and fantastical legends, the trespassing of the breathing upon the domain of the spirits is rare.

The kingdom of the dead odyssey