Responsibility in the Odyssey is not as straightforward as one might expect.

On one hand

we have the immortal gods of Mount Olympus, forever involved with inducing the hearts of men

for the sake of honor, glory and doom. The gods, though often overly emotional, are usually

upfront and honest by claiming some responsibility for the joys and miseries of the mortals

below. On the other hand we have mortal men, subject to the powers above to either rise as

heroes, forever renowned, or to simply fade away with paling reputations. Men are not so lucid

on the subject of responsibility, as more often than not they cast blame on the powers above

rather than on their own folly. There is no question that mortals and immortals alike are subject

to the whims of fate. However, we are told by Zeus that men “compound their pains beyond their

proper share” (The Odyssey 1.40). By applying this principle primarily to book twelve we will

see that, despite many complaints, men must bear responsibility for the majority of their

suffering.

In order to demonstrate that men are responsible for at least some, if not most of their

misery, we need to draw lines between fate and what is in addition to fate. We are reminded that

Odysseus is fated to one day return home. When we say ‘fated’ it is made clear in the context of

Homer’s epic that he will return home, no matter what happens. The gods have no power to

change fate, even if they express desire to do so. Without a doubt, Poseidon would like to

oversee Odysseus’ death himself. However, “he does not kill the man; he only buffets him away

from home” (1.74-75). He is unable to change what is fated. Polyphemos even acknowledges

this limitation of the gods in his prayer to Poseidon: “grant that Odysseus never see his home…

[but] Should destiny intend that he shall see his roof again…far be that day” (9.578-582). What

this paper seeks to question is not fate, but what is in addition to fate: how he will return home,

and how the decisions of himself and his crew add further joy or misery to that fate.

Before focusing on the events of book twelve, it may be best to discuss some major

additions to fate that show some evidence of Odysseus and his men making life harder than it

ought to be. What I’m referring to is the episode where Odysseus and his men encounter
 2

Polyphemos and pluck out his eye. After the whole event of escaping the cave, Odysseus

displays some rather questionable qualities of heroism in his boasting to the Cyclops. Not only

does he bring his friends into immediate risk of death by provoking the Cyclops to throw

boulders, but he ultimately condemns them to hardship and eventual death. Odysseus was,

according to Polyphemos, “foretold…to come” (9.558), fated to pluck his eye out. Polyphemos

understands that this is fate and knows that fate cannot be changed. Given this, Polyphemos

attempts to make the best of it. He offers Odysseus friendship and Poseidon’s favor in some hope

that Poseidon will heal his eye. Odysseus ungraciously rejects this offer, and by doing so

subsequently provokes Poseidon’s wrath. Odysseus claims that this act would bring “destruction

for my ships…and death for those who sailed in them” (9.605). Here we see evidence that

Odysseus claims no responsibility for his actions, but chooses instead to blame the gods for his

forthcoming tribulation. This, however, is not the case, as will be shown later. To be fair to

Odysseus, Polyphemos had shown less than credible intentions throughout the encounter. For all

Odysseus knew, this could have been a trick of vengeance. He had no idea what the

consequences of his actions would be. This gives Odysseus the benefit of a doubt. But, as we

will see in book twelve, there is clear evidence that Zeus’ principle is true, and that men bring

more misery than fate prescribes.

In book twelve we see the crew returning from the “homes of Death” (12.31) so that

Odysseus could “tell all that [he] had seen” (12.43) to the goddess Kirke. In doing so, Kirke tells

Odysseus the directions by which he will get home, along with some invaluable advice about

what he will soon encounter. First, she tells him to avoid the lure of the Seirenes by using

beeswax to plug the crews’ ears. He heeds this advice without hesitation. Secondly, she warns

him of the dangers of Skylla and the whirlpool. To this Odysseus asks how he might “fight off

Skylla” (12.134), almost boasting of his fighting skill. Kirke immediately condemns this notion,
 3

lecturing that Skylla “cannot die…[that] no power can fight her” (12.139-141). Should Odysseus

choose to stand and fight her he would condemn all of his men, rather than the six he would lose

by rowing quickly past her. Regardless of this advice, Odysseus takes up arms when coming near

Skylla’s cave. He claims that “Kirke’s bidding against arms had slipped [his] mind” (12.293).

Luckily he appears to be the only one to have done so, for if the others had stopped rowing

Skylla would have taken “them all, and the ship, too” (12.130). One might wonder that had this

occurred in the Odyssey, where would Odysseus put the responsibility: on himself and his

forgetfulness or on the gods? It would have been clear evidence that men do indeed add more

suffering than fate allots. Regardless, we will now focus on the remainder of book twelve.

Kirke gives Odysseus one final, simple piece of advice. She strongly advises him to not

harm Helios’ cattle on the island of Thrinakia. This is nothing new as Teiresias had previously

foretold Odysseus the trouble awaiting him, and that “the god who thunders on land prepares it”

(11.115). Furthermore, Teiresias even told Odysseus how to avoid this anguish: “One narrow

strait may take you through his blows: denial of yourself, restraint of shipmates. When you make

landfall on Thrinakia…avoid those kine” (11.118-124). Kirke also repeats Teiresias’ warning to

Odysseus should he fail to comply. She says, “But if you raid the beeves, I see destruction for

ship and crew…Rough years then lie between you and your homecoming, alone and old, the one

survivor, all companions lost” (12.167-170). Tragically, the simplest, most emphasized piece of

advice is also that which goes unheeded.

As Thrinakia comes into view from the ship, Odysseus sees the cattle and immediately

remembers “the words of blind Teiresias…and Kirke” (12.346-347). Odysseus then goes on to

remind the crew that “Nothing but fatal trouble shall we find here” (12.354), and that they should

avoid the island all together. Remarkably, the crew nearly mutiny, giving Odysseus no choice but

to ask for their word, that all of Helios’ herd “shall go unharmed” (12.384). All swear oaths to
 4

their leader, because they already have provisions on board. Soon after their landing, a series of

storms holds them there for about a month. One might question as to the nature of those storms.

Surely Poseidon, in his rage, had something to do with them. Odysseus, unlike the encounter

with Skylla, does not let the advice slip his mind. He reminds the crew again that certain doom

awaits them if they harm the cattle. After Odysseus leaves to go and pray for some sort of

deliverance, the crew contemplates the slaughter of the cattle. Eventually Eurylokhos succeeds in

convincing the men to break their oaths. All the men are aware of the potential consequences of

their actions, but frankly do not seem to care. Eurylokhos even asserts that it is “Better [to] open

your lungs to a big sea…than waste to skin and bones” (12.451-453). For them it is more

palatable to take the risk of drowning than starvation. Upon returning, Odysseus is horrified by

their actions. He then blames Zeus for making him “sleep away this day of mischief” (12.476).

Of course the story continues with the destruction and doom of his ship and crew. Years of

wandering promised for failure soon follow.

Zeus’ principle certainly applies here as Odysseus and his men were the sole weavers of

their own misery. Some might argue that it was Poseidon, or Zeus or some god who brought the

men to hunger and desperation in some cruel act to bring more suffering upon them. That may be

true, but no god forced them to eat the cattle. Ultimately no god even forced them to land on the

island. Those deadly decisions belong solely in the hands of the men. For this they reaped their

reward: a death promised time and time again by god and prophet. These men added more

misery than fate had promised. But what of Odysseus? Our man is keen to point out right away

that he had no part in it; he was praying, put asleep by the gods. What an unlikely story. Did not

“all the gods…all but Poseidon” (1.32-33) pity Odysseus? Regardless of whether or not the gods

put him to sleep, Odysseus was charged to restrain his men and choose to leave them—

unattended—like a toddler in a toy store. If one would argue for Poseidon’s part in this through
 5

storms or sleep spells, then one would also have to accept that Odysseus equally gave his men no

choice; for surely without his heroic endurance they would fail.

We have seen throughout the Odyssey that Zeus’ principle does apply, and that men,

particularly in book twelve, “with their own reckless ways compound their pains beyond their

proper share” (1.39-40). This is not something of which heroes, such as Odysseus, are immune.

Without fate Odysseus, himself, provokes the wrath of Poseidon. But even given the benefit of a

doubt above, we can see the potential for failure in his prideful attempt at Skylla. If given further

undue credit, we can still see that his actions and subsequently the actions of his men on

Thrinakia add significantly to the hardship prescribed by fate. Tossing blame and responsibility

onto the gods for all misery, as Zeus says, is shameless. To say that some god caused you to

forget your cloak (14.579) and ultimately that “no one bears the blame but Zeus” (11.66) in all

times of trial is simply unbefitting of any hero. Even in Homer’s epics it is possible to have too

much pride.

Note: line numbers refer to the English

text in the Fitzgerald translation. W.D. Jay Matheson B00493718