“He prayeth best who loveth best / All things, both great and small: / For the dear God who loveth us, / He made and loveth all.” – Samuel Taylor Coleridge
Miss Broscious, my 9th grade English teacher, did her best to introduce us to Greek mythology and a few plays of William Shakespeare. Apparently, in 1969, it was not unusual to expect students to read parts of Homer’s Odyssey, as well as Hamlet, Romeo and Juiliet, and A Midsummer Night’s Dream. We even read excerpts out loud in class. I probably owe a lot of my appreciation of works like these to Miss B. More importantly, I learned the power of stories and the absolute necessity of exercising our imagination. The words of a story may not conjure the same images in everyone’s mind, but we can still learn from them.
I recently saw a “review” of the Christopher Nolan film, The Odyssey, in which the reviewer said he was “bored” by the movie and its repeated references to Zeus’ Law. He also believed the story was not relevant to today’s audience. At least he admitted he only had a vague recollection of Homer’s epic. It seemed to me he did not understand mythology or metaphor and wasn’t paying attention to the movie. In 9th grade we talked about Odysseus’ hubris, his defiance of the gods, and his fate: to overcome extreme hardships before he could return home. We also talked about how these hardships were not mere fantasy. We learned that all actions have consequences, whether one lives in ancient Greece or the modern world.
Spoiler. I wonder whether Mr. Nolan was thinking of The Rime of the Ancient Mariner when Odysseus took a parting arrow shot at the already blinded and humiliated Cyclopes (a son of Poseidon). The ancient mariner shot the friendly albatross just because he could. In both stories, the protagonist had “done an hellish thing, and it would work ‘em woe,” in the words of Coleridge. Were these incidents foolish carelessness or hubris? In a sense it doesn’t matter, because in both cases fate, or perhaps divine retribution stepped in and only one man lived to tell the tale. There were lessons to be learned, and the story could not end until the main character learned them.
All of us must learn. Betray a friend or spouse and penance must be done. Defy the gods and suffer the consequences. If we think we are above the law, either of Zeus, or Yahweh, or hospitality, or honor, one day we will be held accountable.
Odysseus is us. These kinds of stories are about us, not Greek heroes, Princes of Denmark, or ancient mariners. We need to read or listen to them realizing that we will all hear the Sirens’ song at least once in our lives. We are all tempted to become animals, either by greed, laziness, selfishness, anger, or our lust for power. We all have parts of our lives we would rather forget. And none of us can truly come home until we deal with these things.
I have acquaintances who are part of 12-step programs. Their wisdom is that no matter who you are, if you want to do better, first you must admit you have a problem. They were trapped in the delusion that they “could handle it” on their own. Some didn’t think they needed anyone’s help, not even God’s – until it was nearly too late. I’ve learned that none of us can truly “handle it.” We all need help from time to time. And none of us are exempt from the laws of the universe. Not even kings, queens, prime ministers, or presidents. Everything we do affects others. And we all stand to lose everyone we care about.
Perhaps we should consider John Donne’s words:
“No man is an island entire of itself; every man is a piece of the continent, a part of the main; if a clod be washed away by the sea, Europe is the less, as well as if a promontory were, as well as any manner of thy friends or of thine own were; any man’s death diminishes me, because I am involved in mankind. And therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls; it tolls for thee.“
MurrayWorks 