Penelope

John William Waterhouse, Penelope and the Suitors

Penelope was a central character in the Homeric epic The Odyssey, among the orally transmitted poems finally written down in the late 8^th and early 7^th centuries BC. These poems may have had some historical background in the sieges and wars between the Greek city states which occurred four to five centuries earlier. They are stuffed with gods and goddesses who interact with humans, causing much trouble and saving whom they will.

Penelope is the daughter of Icarius, a Spartan prince famed as a champion runner. He proclaims that the man who wants to win his daughter must beat him at a race. Odysseus does this. When he is about to take Penelope home to his island of Ithaca, her father gives her the choice whether to go with Odysseus or stay home. Penelope simply puts her veil modestly in front of her face, which her father interprets as a wish to go with Odysseus.

In The Illiad, which begins in the middle of the ten-year long Trojan War, we do not hear anything about Penelope. Odysseus is gone all that time, though he and Penelope have had a son, Telemachus. Odysseus’ attempts to get home after the war are thwarted by the gods and it takes him another ten years. During that time, Penelope spends most of her time weaving in an upper room in her home with her women around her. She longs for her husband, as he longs for her.

When it begins to appear that Odysseus will not come home, a pack of young men begin to hang around, intent on becoming Penelope’s second husband. Telemachus, her son, is too young to prevent them from feasting every day at the house, eating up the cattle, sheep and pigs that are his patrimony. Penelope, who is as cunning as her husband, tells the suitors that when she finishes the shroud she is making for her father-in-law Laertes, she will marry one of them. Every day she weaves, but at night she undoes what she has woven that day. For three years this ruse works, but one of her handmaids tells the suitors what Penelope is doing.

When the household poet sings of Odysseus’ exploits, Penelope says “Sing no more this bitter tale that wears my heart out.” Telemachus rebukes her and then leaves, to try to find news of his father. Penelope is horrified to find he is gone. The suitors plan to kill him, but Athena sends her a message that all will be well.

At this point Odysseus is still constrained by Calypso to stay with her on her island. He longs for “his quiet Penelope” and home. Athena intervenes and Odysseus has more adventures, but is at last given gifts and a ship to take him to Ithaca. Arriving, he visits first his faithful swineherd, dressed as a beggar. Telemachus also comes back to the island and meets his father there. Together they make plans to kill the suitors and retake their home.

Telemachus goes home first, though Odysseus will not allow him to tell Penelope that he is on the island. “What shall I do?” she asks Telemachus. Inspirited, Telemachus tells her to remain with her women in the upper room. The suitors continue to eat, drink and plot. When Odysseus, dressed as a beggar, comes and sits in the door stoop, they make fun of him and throw things at him. Telemachus tells them not to ill-use his guest.

Athena sends Penelope down in her great beauty, “her shining veil across her cheek.” “Deep-minded queen,” says one of the suitors, “Beauty like yours no woman had before.” At last she brings Odysseus’ heavy bow into the room and says that whoever can string it and send an arrow through 12 axe handles will be her husband. None of the suitors is able to string the bow. Telemachus makes some effort, but then sends his mother upstairs. Odysseus easily strings the bow, then strikes Antinous, the chief suitor with an arrow to his neck. With the help of his son, the swineherd and another herdsman, not to mention Athena, Odysseus slays all of the forty or more suitors. The servants come up to embrace Odysseus and the mutinous maids are made to clean up the mess.

Telemachus tells Penelope that his father has come home, but Penelope is skeptical. She sits on one side of the room, observing her husband, who has bathed and dressed himself, on the other. Odysseus’ old nurse has identified him by a childhood scar. “Let your mother test me,” said Odysseus. “We have secret signs between us.”

Penelope tells a servant to go and take their marriage bed into the hall, making it up for Odysseus. At this Odysseus flares up. “Who dares to move my bed?” he asks. “I made that bed from the trunk of a living olive tree.” When she hears this, Penelope runs to Odysseus and throws her arms around him. At last they weep together, rejoicing. When they go to bed, arms around each other, Odysseus tells her stories. “She could not close her eyes until all the stories had been told.”

The next day, Odysseus goes to his old father Laertes, also wasted with longing for his son. Laertes is spading earth around his fruit trees. Odysseus worries about the fathers of the suitors, who might come for revenge. Athena goes to Zeus, asking how to end this violence. “Conclude it as you will,” says Zeus. Thus, Athena compels the islanders to drop their quarrel and Odysseus, Penelope and Telemachus are allowed to live in peace.

The Odyssey has followed me around most of my life. When I finally read it in the Robert Fitzgerald translation recently, hardly any of the incidents were unfamiliar. Indeed, the story of the weaving and unweaving of the shroud is told three times! As the wife of a valiant husband who is gone at least a third of the time, I most identify with the homecoming. When Don comes home, it takes days sometimes before all the stories have been told.