2.1: Book I
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THE GODS IN COUNCIL—ATHENA’S VISIT TO ITHACA—THE CHALLENGE FROM TELEMACHUS TO THE SUITORS.
Tell me, O Muse , of that ingenious hero who traveled far and wide after he had sacked the famous town of Troy . Many cities did he visit, and many were the nations with whose manners and customs he was acquainted; moreover he suffered much by sea while trying to save his own life and bring his men safely home; but do what he might he could not save his men, for they perished through their own sheer folly in eating the cattle of the Sun-god Hyperion ; so the god prevented them from ever reaching home. Tell me, too, about all these things, oh daughter of Zeus , from whatever source you may know them.
So now all who escaped death in battle or by shipwreck had got safely home except Odysseus, and he, though he was longing to return to his wife and country, was detained by the goddess Calypso,  who had got him into a large cave and wanted to marry him. But as years went by, there came a time when the gods arranged that he should go back to Ithaca; even then, however, when he was among his own people, his troubles were not yet over; nevertheless,all the gods had now begun to pity him except Poseidon, who still persecuted him without ceasing and would not let him get home. 
Now Poseidon had gone off to the Ethiopians,  who are at the world’s end, and lie in two halves, the one looking West and the other East. He had gone there to accept a hecatomb  of sheep and oxen, and was enjoying himself at his festival; but the other gods met in the house of Olympian Zeus, and the father of gods and men spoke first. At that moment he was thinking of Aegisthus, who had been killed by Agamemnon’s son Orestes;  so he said to the other gods:
“See now, how men lay blame upon us gods for what is after all nothing but their own folly. Look at Aegisthus; he just had to make love to Agamemnon’s wife unrighteously and then kill Agamemnon, though he knew it would be the death of him; for I sent Hermes  to warn him not to do either of these things, because Orestes would be sure to take his revenge when he grew up and wanted to return home. Hermes told him this in all good faith but Aegisthus would not listen, and now he has paid for everything in full.”
Then Athena  said, “Father, son of Kronos, king of kings, it served Aegisthus right, and so it would any one else who does as he did; but Aegisthus is neither here nor there; it is for Odysseus that my heart bleeds, when I think of his sufferings in that lonely sea-surrounded island, far away, poor man, from all his friends. It is an island covered with forest, in the very middle of the sea, and a goddess lives there, daughter of the magician Atlas,  who looks after the bottom of the ocean, and carries the great columns that keep heaven and earth separate. This daughter of Atlas has gotten ahold of poor unhappy Odysseus, and keeps trying by every kind of blandishment to make him forget his home, so that he is tired of life, and thinks of nothing but how he may once more see the smoke of his own chimneys. You, sir, take no heed of this, and yet when Odysseus was before Troy did he not seek to please you with many a burnt sacrifice? Why then should you keep on being so angry with him?”
And Zeus said, “My child, what are you talking about? How can I forget Odysseus when there is no more capable man on earth, nor more generous in his offerings to the immortal gods that live in heaven? Bear in mind, however, that Poseidon is still furious with Odysseus for having blinded the eye of Polyphemus, king of the Cyclopes.  Polyphemus is son to Poseidon by the nymph Thoosa, daughter to the sea-king Phorcys; therefore, although he will not kill Odysseus outright, he torments him by preventing him from getting home. Still, let us lay our heads together and see how we can help him to return; Poseidon will then be pacified, for if we are all of a similar mind he can hardly stand against us.”
And Athena said, “Father, son of Kronos, king of kings, if, then, the gods now mean that Odysseus should get home, we should first send Hermes to the Ogygian island to tell Calypso that we have made up our minds and that he is to return. In the meantime I will go to Ithaca,  to put heart into Odysseus’ son Telemachus; I will embolden him to call the Achaeans in assembly, and speak out to the suitors of his mother Penelope, who persist in eating up large numbers of his sheep and oxen; I will also conduct him to Sparta  and to Pylos , to see if he can hear anything about the return of his dear father—for this will make people speak well of him.”
So saying she bound on her glittering golden sandals, imperishable, with which she can fly like the wind over land or sea; she grasped the redoubtable bronze-shod spear, so stout and sturdy and strong, with which she quells the ranks of heroes who have displeased her, and down she darted from the topmost summits of Olympus. And so, soon she was in Ithaca, at the gateway of Odysseus’ house, disguised as a visitor, Mentes, chief of the Taphians,  and she held a bronze spear in her hand. There she found the lordly suitors seated on hides of the oxen which they had killed and eaten, and playing checkers in front of the house. Male slaves and servants were bustling about to wait upon them, some mixing wine with water in the mixing-bowls, some cleaning down the tables with wet sponges and laying them out again, and some cutting up great quantities of meat. 
Telemachus saw her long before any one else did. He was sitting moodily among the suitors thinking about his brave father, and how he would send them fleeing from the house, if he were to come into his own again and be honored as in days gone by. Thus brooding as he sat among them, he caught sight of Athena and went straight to the gate, for he was upset that a stranger should be kept waiting for admittance. He took her right hand in his own, and bade her give him her spear. “Welcome,” said he, “to our house, and when you have eaten something you shall tell us what you have come for.” 
He led the way as he spoke, and Athena followed him. When they were within he took her spear and set it in the spear-stand against a strong bearing-post along with the many other spears of his unhappy father, and he conducted her to a richly decorated seat under which he threw a cloth of damask. There was a footstool also for her feet, and he set another seat near her for himself, away from the suitors, so that she might not be annoyed while eating by their noise and insolence, and so that he might ask her more freely about his father.
A female slave then brought them water in a beautiful golden pitcher and poured it into a silver basin for them to wash their hands, and she drew a clean table beside them. An upper servant brought them bread, and offered them many good things from what there was in the house, the carver fetched them plates of all manner of meats and set cups of gold by their side, and a manservant brought them wine and poured it out for them.
Then the suitors came in and took their places on the benches and seats. Right away, male slaves poured water over their hands, female slaves went round with the bread-baskets, pages filled the mixing-bowls with wine and water, and they laid their hands upon the good things that were before them. As soon as they had had enough to eat and drink they wanted music and dancing, which are the crowning embellishments of a banquet, so a servant brought a lyre to Phemius, whom they compelled by force to sing to them. As soon as he touched his lyre and began to sing Telemachus spoke low to Athena, with his head close to hers that no one might hear.
“I hope, sir,” said he, “that you will not be offended with what I am going to say. Singing comes cheap to those who do not pay for it, and all this is done at the cost of one whose bones lie rotting in some wilderness or grinding to powder in the surf. If these men were to see my father come back to Ithaca they would pray for longer legs rather than a longer purse, for money would not save them; but he, alas, has fallen on an ill fate, and even when people do sometimes say that he is coming, we no longer heed them; we shall never see him again. And now, sir, tell me and tell me honestly, who you are and where you come from. Tell me of your town and parents, what manner of ship you came in, how your crew brought you to Ithaca, and of what nation they declared themselves to be—for you cannot have come by land. Tell me also truly, for I want to know, are you a stranger to this house, or have you been here in my father’s time? In the old days we had many visitors for my father went about much himself.”
And Athena answered, “I will tell you truly and particularly all about it. I am Mentes, son of Anchialus, and I am King of the Taphians. I have come here with my ship and crew, on a voyage to men of a foreign tongue being bound for Temesa with a cargo of iron, and I shall bring back copper.  As for my ship, it lies over in that direction off the open country away from the town, in the harbor Rheithron under the wooded mountain Neritum. Our fathers were friends before us, as old Laertes  will tell you, if you will go and ask him. They say, however, that he never comes to town now, and lives by himself in the country, faring hardly, with an old woman to look after him and get his dinner for him, when he comes in tired from pottering about his vineyard. They told me your father had come home again, and that was why I came, but it seems the gods are still keeping him back, for he is not dead, yet not on the mainland. It is more likely he is on some sea-surrounded island in mid ocean, or a prisoner among savages who are detaining him against his will. I am no prophet, and know very little about omens, but I speak as it is inspired in me from heaven, and assure you that he will not be away much longer; for he is a man of such resource that even though he were in chains of iron he would find some means of getting home again. But tell me, and tell me truly, can Odysseus really have such a fine looking fellow for a son? You are indeed wonderfully resemble him about the head and eyes, for we were close friends before he set sail for Troy where the flower of all the Argives went also. Since that time we have never either of us seen the other.”
“My mother,” answered Telemachus, “tells me I am son to Odysseus, but it is a wise child that knows his own father. Would that I were son to one who had grown old upon his own estates, for, since you ask me, there is no more ill-starred man under heaven than he who they tell me is my father.”
And Athena said, “There is no fear of your race dying out yet, while Penelope has such a fine son as you are. But tell me, and tell me true, what is the meaning of all this feasting, and who are these people? What is it all about? Have you some banquet, or is there a wedding in the family—for no one seems to be bringing any provisions of his own? And the guests—how atrociously they are behaving; what riot they make over the whole house; it is enough to disgust any respectable person who comes near them.”
“Sir,” said Telemachus, “as regards your question, so long as my father was here it was well with us and with the house, but the gods in their displeasure have willed it otherwise, and have hidden him away more closely than mortal man was ever yet hidden. I could have borne it better even though he were dead, if he had fallen with his men before Troy, or had died with friends around him when the days of his fighting were done; for then the Achaeans would have built a mound over his ashes, and I should myself have been heir to his renown; but now the storm-winds have spirited him away we know not where; he has gone without leaving so much as a trace behind him, and I inherit nothing but dismay. Nor does the matter end simply with grief for the loss of my father; heaven has inflicted sorrows on me of yet another kind; for the chiefs from all our islands, Dulichium, Same, and the woodland island of Zacynthus, as also all the principal men of Ithaca itself, are eating up my house under the pretext of paying their court to my mother, who will neither point blank say that she will not marry, nor yet bring matters to an end; so they are wreaking havoc on my estate, and before long will do so also with myself.”
“Is that so?” exclaimed Athena, “then you do indeed want Odysseus home again. Give him his helmet, shield, and a couple of lances, and if he is the man he was when I first knew him in our house, drinking and making merry, he would soon lay his hands about these rascally suitors, were he to stand once more upon his own threshold. He was then coming from Ephyra, where he had been to beg poison for his arrows from Ilus, son of Mermerus. Ilus feared the ever-living gods and would not give him any, but my father let him have some, for he was very fond of him. If Odysseus is the man he then was these suitors will have a short shrift and a sorry wedding.
“But there! It rests with heaven to determine whether he is to return, and take his revenge in his own house or not; I would, however, urge you to set about trying to get rid of these suitors at once. Take my advice, call the Achaean heroes in assembly tomorrow morning—lay your case before them, and call heaven to bear you witness. Bid the suitors take themselves off, each to his own place, and if your mother’s mind is set on marrying again, let her go back to her father, who will find her a husband and provide her with all the marriage gifts that so dear a daughter may expect. As for yourself, let me prevail upon you to take the best ship you can get, with a crew of twenty men, and go in quest of your father who has so long been missing. Some one may tell you something, or (and people often hear things in this way) some heaven-sent message may direct you. First go to Pylos and ask Nestor; thence go on to Sparta and visit Menelaus, for he got home last of all the Achaeans; if you hear that your father is alive and on his way home, you can put up with the waste these suitors will make for yet another twelve months. If on the other hand you hear of his death, come home at once, celebrate his funeral rites with all due pomp, build a barrow to his memory, and make your mother marry again. Then, having done all this, think it well over in your mind how, by fair means or foul, you may kill these suitors in your own house. You are too old to plead you are a child any longer; have you not heard how people are singing Orestes’ praises for having killed his father’s murderer Aegisthus? You are a fine, smart looking fellow; show your mettle, then, and make yourself a name in story. Now, however, I must go back to my ship and to my crew, who will be impatient if I keep them waiting longer; think the matter over for yourself, and remember what I have said to you.”
“Sir,” answered Telemachus, “it has been very kind of you to talk to me in this way, as though I were your own son, and I will do all you tell me; I know you want to be getting on with your voyage, but stay a little longer till you have taken a bath and refreshed yourself. I will then give you a present, and you shall go on your way rejoicing; I will give you one of great beauty and value—a keepsake such as only dear friends give to one another.”
Athena answered, “Do not try to keep me, for I would be on my way at once. As for any present you may be inclined to give to me, keep it till I come again, and I will take it home with me. You shall give me a very good one, and I will give you one of no less value in return.”
With these words she flew away like a bird into the air, but she had given Telemachus courage, and had made him think more than ever about his father. He felt the change, wondered at it, and knew that the stranger had been a god, so he went straight to where the suitors were sitting.
Phemius  was still singing, and his hearers sat enthralled in silence as he told the sad tale of the return from Troy, and the ills Athena had inflicted on the Achaeans. Penelope, daughter of Icarius, heard his song from her room upstairs, and came down by the great staircase, not alone, but attended by two of her female slaves. When she reached the suitors she stood by one of the bearing posts that supported the roof of the cloisters with a staid female slave on either side of her. She held a veil,  moreover, before her face, and was weeping bitterly.
“Phemius,” she cried, “you know many another feat of gods and heroes, such as poets love to celebrate. Sing the suitors some one of these, and let them drink their wine in silence, but cease this sad tale, for it breaks my sorrowful heart, and reminds me of my lost husband whom I mourn ever without ceasing, and whose name was great over all Hellas and middle Argos.”
“Mother,” answered Telemachus, “let the bard sing what he has a mind to; bards do not make the ills they sing of; it is Zeus, not they, who makes them, and who sends weal or woe upon mankind according to his own good pleasure. This fellow means no harm by singing the ill-fated return of the Danaans, for people always applaud the latest songs most warmly. Make up your mind to it and bear it; Odysseus is not the only man who never came back from Troy, but many another went down as well as he. Go, then, within the house  and busy yourself with your daily duties, your loom, your distaff, and the ordering of your slaves; for speech is man’s matter, and mine above all others for it is I who am master here.” 
She went wondering back into the house, and kept her son’s words in her heart. Then, going upstairs with her handmaids into her room, she mourned her dear husband till Athena shed sweet sleep over her eyes. But the suitors were clamorous throughout the covered cloisters, and prayed each one that he might be her bed fellow.
Then Telemachus spoke, “Shameless,” he cried, “and insolent suitors, let us feast at our pleasure now, and let there be no brawling, for it is a rare thing to hear a man with such a divine voice as Phemius has; but in the morning meet me in full assembly that I may give you formal notice to depart, and feast at one another’s houses, each one hosting in turn, at your own cost. If on the other hand you choose to persist in sponging off of one man, heaven help me, but Zeus shall reckon with you in full, and when you fall in my father’s house there shall be no man to avenge you.”
The suitors bit their lips as they heard him, and marveled at the boldness of his speech. Then, Antinous, son of Eupeithes, said, “The gods seem to have given you lessons in bluster and tall talking; may Zeus never permit you to be chief in Ithaca as your father was before you.”
Telemachus answered, “Antinous, do not chide with me, but, god willing, I will be chief too if I can. Is this the worst fate you can think of for me? It is no bad thing to be a chief, for it brings both riches and honor. Still, now that Odysseus is dead there are many great men in Ithaca both old and young, and some other may take the lead among them; nevertheless I will be chief in my own house, and will rule those whom Odysseus has won for me.”
Then Eurymachus, son of Polybus, answered, “It rests with heaven to decide who shall be chief among us, but you shall be master in your own house and over your own possessions; no one while there is a man in Ithaca shall do you violence nor rob you. And now, my good fellow, I want to know about this stranger. What country does he come from? Of what family is he, and where is his estate? Has he brought you news about the return of your father, or was he on business of his own? He seemed a well to do man, but he hurried off so suddenly that he was gone in a moment before we could get to know him.”
“My father is dead and gone,” answered Telemachus, “and even if some rumor reaches me I put no more faith in it now. My mother does indeed sometimes send for a soothsayer and question him, but I give his prophecies no heed. As for the stranger, he was Mentes, son of Anchialus, chief of the Taphians, an old friend of my father’s.” But in his heart he knew that it had been the goddess.
The suitors then returned to their singing and dancing until the evening; but when night fell on their diversions they went home to bed each in his own place. Telemachus’s room was high up in a tower that looked on to the outer court; there, then, he went, brooding and full of thought. A good old woman, Euryclea,  daughter of Ops, the son of Pisenor, went before him with a couple of blazing torches. Laertes had bought her with his own money when she was quite young; he gave the worth of twenty oxen for her, and showed as much respect to her in his household as he did to his own wedded wife, but he did not take her to his bed for he feared his wife’s resentment. She it was who now lighted Telemachus to his room, and she loved him better than any of the other women in the house did, for she had nursed him when he was a baby. He opened the door of his bed room and sat down upon the bed; as he took off his tunic, he gave it to the good old woman, who folded it tidily up, and hung it for him over a peg by his bed side, after which she went out, pulled the door to by a silver catch, and drew the bolt home by means of the strap. But Telemachus as he lay covered with a woolen fleece kept thinking all night through of his intended voyage and of the advice that Athena had given him.
 A common aspect of epic poetry is opening with an invocation to a Muse, usually a higher deity. The Muses were goddesses associated with inspiration in all artistic and intellectual pursuits. The ancient Greeks considered the Muses as the nine goddess-daughters of Zeus and Mnemosyne (Memory). The Muses were credited as the source of wisdom and inspiration embodied in various genres of literature, fields of science, and the performing and visual arts. When a human creator invoked the Muses, he/she was laying claim to be the channel for divine knowledge encoded into the poetry, songs, and myths that were either recounted in words (or artwork or performance) or circulated in writing in ancient Greek culture. In other translations, "tell me" can be translated as "sing to me" as epics were often sung by bards.
 The journey of Odysseus takes place throughout the Mediterranean basin. See http://www.classics.upenn.edu/myth/content/homer/multimap.html The city of Troy is located in modern Asia Minor. In The Iliad, Troy was a city ruled by King Priam. Priam's son Paris abducted Helen, wife of Menelaus, sparking the Trojan War.
 Hyperion was one of the ancient Titans usurped by the gods of Olympus. Hyperion's functions were roughly the same as those of Apollo, the more familiar god of the sun. For the incident where Odysseus' men eat the cattle consecrated to the sun-god, see book 12.
 The Muses were daughters of Zeus.
 For Calypso, see books 5-6.
 Poseidon disliked Odysseus for many reasons, chief among them was Odysseus' blinding of Poseidon's son Polyphemus. See book 9.
 The Greeks were a seafaring and trading people and encountered many other cultures, including many groups inhabiting Northern Africa. See this world map reconstructed from Herodotus for Greeks' notion of where Ethiopia was situated.
 A hecatomb was the ultimate sacrifice, typically 100 oxen.
 Agamemnon, like his brother Menelaus, fought in the Trojan War in order to regain Helen. Upon his return home, Agamemnon was killed by his wife Clytemnestra's lover, Aegisthus. The betrayal that Agamemnon faces because of his wife's disloyalty is told to Odysseus in book 11 as a warning for what negative things may be awaiting him when he arrives back on Ithaca.
 Messenger to the gods, also god of merchants. He also had the reputation of being a trickster.
 Athena was patron goddess of Athens and goddess of war, wisdom, and weaving. She is Odysseus' patroness throughout The Odyssey, partly because, like Odysseus, she wins by wit and disguise as much as by brute force. She is also a traditional rival of Poseidon/Neptune and daughter of Zeus.
 Atlas was a Titan who had led a revolt against Zeus and the gods of Olympus and had been sentenced to carry the world on his shoulders as punishment.
 See note 6 above.
 The island home of Odysseus and the kingdom over which he rules.
 Home of Menelaus and Helen.
 Home of Nestor, who fought alongside Odysseus.
 King of the inhabitants of the island of Taphos, renowned pirates. He is not the same as Mentor in book 2.
 Meat is symbolic of wealth. The diet of the ancient world was more plant based as meat was more expensive to raise and purchase. Having "great quantities of meat" to serve a large crowd shows the wealth of the household, which can be demonstrated in the large amount of suitors, and Penelope's expert management of the household. Ulysses has been MIA for 10 years, yet she is still able to afford to feed all of her guests and support the staff necessary for running a household of this size.
 Hospitality was an important social custom for the ancient Greeks that extended even to strangers. Guests were meant to be treated well, fed, and often given gifts by their hosts regardless of who they were. In return, guests were meant to respect the property of their hosts. See the article on guest friendship (xenia) in The Worlds of the Odyssey (1.2).
 A city of Magna Graecia on the shore of the Tyrrhenian Sea with rich copper mines.
 Laertes was Odysseus' father and Telemachus' grandfather.
 For the importance of Phemius and the other storytellers or bards who appear in The Odyssey, see the critical introduction (1.1)
 Respectable upper class Greek women wore veils when appearing in mixed company.
 Following traditional roles, Penelope would be expected to work within the home. Her association with spinning and weaving becomes an important part of her characterization. See Book 2 for her weaving scheme.
 By the slightly later classical Greek period, Greek women often occupied an entirely separate sector of the house than the men, the gynaeceum. See the article on the oikos in The Worlds of the Odyssey (1.2)
 Euryclea is an example of what Greek men would consider an "ideal" female slave. She was Telemachus' nurse. As is implied in this context, it was common for Greek male owners of slaves to demand sexual favors of them and the slaves were often not in a position to refuse.