Contents

Introduction 1. Homer 17 Introduction Selection from The Odyssey Essay by Al Geier 2. Plato 33 Introduction Selection from the Republic Essay by Gary Hartenburg 3. Aristotle 57 Introduction Selection from Nicomachean Ethics Essay by Jeff Lehman 4. Virgil 77 Introduction Selection from the Aeneid Essay by Jeff Lehman 5. Augustine 103 Introduction Selection from Confessions Essay by Peter Kreeft 6. Boethius 125 Introduction Selection from Consolation of Philosophy Essay by Michael Fatigati 7. Thomas Aquinas 145 Introduction Selection from Summa Theologica Essay by Peter Kreeft
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8. Dante Alighieri 167 Introduction Selection from the Divine Comedy Essay by Anthony Esolen 9. Geoffrey Chaucer 189 Introduction Selection from The Canterbury Tales Essay by Diane Vincent 10. Desiderius Erasmus 219 Introduction Selection from In Praise of Folly Essay by Greg Peters 11. John Calvin 237 Introduction Selection from Institutes of the Christian Religion Essay by Russell D. Moore 12. Edmund Spenser 255 Introduction Selection from The Faerie Queene Essay by John Mark Reynolds 13. Miguel de Cervantes 287 Introduction Selection from Don Quixote Essay by RT Llizo 14. William Shakespeare 313 Introduction Selection from Much Ado About Nothing Essay by Melissa Schubert 15. Ren Descartes 339 Introduction Selection from Meditations Essay by Thomas Ward 16. John Milton 357 Introduction Selection from Paradise Lost Essay by Frederica Mathewes-Green
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17. Blaise Pascal 379 Introduction Selection from Penses Essay by Peter Kreeft 18. John Locke, Part One 407 Introduction Selection (on Epistemology) from An Essay Concerning Human Understanding Essay by Janelle Klapausak 19. John Locke, Part Two 427 Introduction Selection (on Politics) from Two Treatises on Government: Second Treatise Essay by Jamie Campbell 20. Isaac Newton 449 Introduction Selection from Mathematical Principles of Natural Philosophy Essay by William A. Dembski 21. John Wesley 469 Introduction Selection from Sermons Essay by Joe Henderson 22. Jane Austen 487 Introduction Selection from Pride and Prejudice Essay by John Mark Reynolds 23. Alexis de Tocqueville 499 Introduction Selection from Democracy in America Essay by Hugh Hewitt 24. Karl Marx (and Friedrich Engels) 513 Introduction Selection from the Communist Manifesto Essay by Hunter Baker 25. Charles Darwin 537 Introduction Selection from On the Origin of Species Essay by Phil Johnson
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26. Leo Tolstoy 557 Introduction Selection from Anna Karenina Essay by Frederica Mathewes-Green Essay by Amy Obrist 27. Fyodor Dostoevsky 585 Introduction Selection from The Brothers Karamazov Essay by John Granger 28. Friedrich Nietzsche 609 Introduction Selection from Genealogy of Morals Essay by Fred Sanders 29. G. K. Chesterton 627 Introduction Selection from Orthodoxy Essay by Dale Ahlquist Translation Credits Contributors 653 649

I n t roduct Ion

On Reading Excerpts of Great Books

ou are reading a book that intends to introduce you to a better life. It does not intend to save your soul, as there is a greater collection of books in sacred Scripture to do that, but it does hope to help improve your mind. If we want to love the Lord God with our mind, its best to make that mind as sharp and attractive as possible. Christians look forward to a better kingdom, the perfect kingdom of God, but on this side of its full manifestation, we go on living. Our goal is to become fit subjects of that civilization, and while all of us were born human, created in Gods image, this heritage only grants us the potential to become civilized. Virtuous practicesfor example, reading and following an argumenthelp us to get there. Great Books Reader is a useful first handbook for facilitating one important virtue: being well-read. Being well-read is not sufficient, and it isnt the highest virtue to which we can strive, but it is both necessary and practical. We are, after all, people of a Great Book; no Christian leader ought to choose illiteracy or intentionally fail to develop the intellectual skills needed to read well.
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Brief Defense of a (Nearly) Indefensible Project Building a book of excerpts from great writers has risks. What if readers stop their exploration? What if instead of using their thoughts to join the discussion, to think for themselves, students simply adopt our opinions about the texts? What if this becomes the kind of volume thats purchased by home decorators to give a living room shelf a touch of class? Reading only a bit of a great book (e.g., Platos Republic) is like getting engaged but never marrying. The initial experience is pleasurable but can become frustrating if prolonged. Some things are only good in anticipation of a higher good thats coming. Following four consecutive lost Super Bowls, Buffalo Bills fans understand that getting to the big game is not the same as winning it. Im told that being a bridesmaid (and not a bride) loses its savor sometime around the third wedding. Let us warn you, then, away from these misuses of this book. Do not use this text to avoid reading the books featured here in their entirety. This would twist the intentions of the authors, because though Great Books Reader is an introduction to writers you will love, it is not a full courtship. The best writers are approachable, but really getting to know them isnt cheap or easy. Each reflects Gods grace in powerful wayseven when they have tried to reject Him. Knowing them will require a lifetime of effort; this book is a start at some literary matchmaking. Reading an essay about a writer like Shakespeare always risks another sort of silliness. Time spent understanding a piece on Hamlet is usually better spent reading Hamlet. If the introductions here become a substitute for reading the real things, then this book will have failed. An appetizer will have become the main course! Some time-pressed soul might question why Christians should bother reading these books at all. Why not just read the Bible? Well, there are solid reasons we should read great books. Again, we are a people of a Great Book and so should have a vested interest in literature in general. Real love may be exclusive in its devotion, but any particular love creates the possibilities of other loves. In my experience, loving my wife better helps me love my friends better. Higher loves empower lower loves, and lower loves are practice for higher loves. If I love my neighbor as
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myself, then loving my country, an accumulation of neighbors, generally will follow. Growing up loving the Bible made me apt to love other books. I dont love them in the same way I love the Bible, but a lesser love came easily. The splendor of sunlight does not take away from the glory of the stars. Most important, any reader can fight with the lesser books, great though they may be, without risk of impiety. In contrast, sacred Scriptures are Gods Word, and an attitude of reverence is appropriate when touching them; reverence can make it hard to hone skills. Generally, a man should not learn to box with his mother. A tough great book is a perfect proving ground to become ready and able to read the Book of Books. All good books reflect God, but not all good books are about Him any more than every good song needs to be a praise song. A good person probably cannot just read the Bible . . . even after he has learned to read well. Man needs more than God; he needs other men. Before the fall, when man walked with God alone in the Garden, God said it was not good for him to be alone. He created family so that men and women could cleave to each other and find natural community. Ideally this community would stretch over the ages, and we could ask Father Adam for advice from his store of wisdom gained over the millennia. Death has cut us off from some of that community. We cannot ask Michelangelo his view of art deco, or request that Aristotle comment on Till We Have Faces. This loneliness is not good for us, yet books lessen it a bit. By reading older books we get a taste of the conversations of heaven. Furthermore, separation from our ancestors has made us prejudiced. Its easy to love the familiar, but past ages come to us in new ways. For instance, they bore or disturb us. The dead say things we would or could not say and in ways that appall, bless, and startle us. Reading them is a part of diversity. The easiest voices to ignore are those of the dead; nevertheless, they often are the ones we need most. We dont hear from the Christians of the sixteenth century on television, or the ancient Romans on our radio. We must turn to books and be willing to have open minds as we do so. Theyre like us in their humanity but different in their time. This difference sometimes will make no difference,
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but at other moments it will allow them to speak prophetically. The best revelation of men as they are today often comes from men long dead. So this book of excerpts is a guide to the voices we will hear when we open the pages of the greatest books. Nobody must read it, but most of us should, if we have no other guides. Why? For one thing, like losing weight, reading the classics is a goal many of us fail to achieve. Each January I set out to weigh less, but too often I dont succeed because I try to do too much too quickly. Returning to the gym tempts me to start where I left off, but my body isnt ready. Strain or soreness sets in, and I quit without gaining any good from my pain. Moderation is as important in the life of the mind as it is in the body. Readers lead, but the surrounding world does not encourage us to take the time to read. It has never been easier to get books but never harder to find the quiet needed to study them. Even colleges are full of events where reading gets in the way of floor activities. We know we should read more, and the temptation is to get a complete great books set and plunge into it. This rarely works, though, because few of us are ready for that level of challenge. This book is a chance for the rest of us to begin where we can. Great Books Reader also provides guides that most of us dont have in our neighborhoods. When Socrates was searching for truth, he practiced it in a community of students. Nobody should learn alone, and its usually not too difficult to find someone to read with us. But who will teach us? Of course, fundamentally, believers do not need a teacher for the deepest truths. Jesus lives within us, and the image of God abides in every human being. Based on common grace, there is no person who can fail to find God if God wishes to be found. But even though we need no gurus, we may need guides. Most of us simply do not pursue the Way, the dialectic, the Great Conversation long enough. What do we mean by the Way? Reasoned discourse in a community. The path of knowledge. Following the argument moved by love in pursuit of God. Embracing anything that is good, true, and beautiful, and thinking on those things. While you may not need a guide in this journey, a good guide is helpful.
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Accordingly, this book tries to fill the role of a good tutor in a great books discussion. The tutor does not tell the student what to think but instead learns with the student. Still, he or she has been reading the books for years and can, for example, ask important first questions. Even if the student comes to reject the opinions of the guiding tutor, the Conversation has been aided. View the essays in this volume as guides in your reading of the excerpts that these wise people have chosen. They are all followingand are committed tothe Way. Some are experts on the books theyre commenting on, recognized by the academic community for their scholarship on these particular works. On the other hand, I picked some amateur essay writers who are wise in the Way but are not scholars of the particular book on which they write. They come to the texts with love and experience but without dogmas to defend. The essay writers are fellow students of the real guides: the authors whose works form the bulk of this book. Spend most of your time poring over Virgil or Aquinas and then watch your fellow students, perhaps further down the Way, as they too wrestle with these guides. The real teachers in this book are the great writers, and you get to listen in to the conversation between them and the bright fellow students in the subsequent essays. Ultimately, this book presents an immediate overview of the Great Conversation. In the West of the world, this conversation has being going on for three thousand years or more. We have chosen to follow this thread not because it is the only or even the best conversation, but because it is the discussion into which we were born. Other books could introduce other texts and other traditions; even so, regardless of the starting point, the Way will be the same. Making the Barely Okay a Friend of the Good: How to Use This Book The perfect can be the enemy of the good, because striving for better than the possible can prevent any achievement at all. Turning up our noses at the barely okay can also be the enemy of the good, because it can prevent necessary growth in ourselves or in our students. This book recognizes that all of us are lucky to have avoided Victorian corsets and
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collars but unlucky to have missed out on the good parts of a Victorian education. Our Latin and Greek are poor or nonexistent, and weve found long chapters hard. For those of us raised on (or become accustomed to) reading blogs, Great Books Reader is a start at reading great books. You can follow the Way reading blogs, because anything that provokes a discussion among a group of friends is valuable. Sadly, however, most blogs do not have the depth or beauty of the great books. You can learn how to start better conversations through being introduced to the best topics and guides. Here are five tips on how to use GBR in starting or going further along on the Way. First, after the brief introduction, read the textthe excerptquickly; then, read it carefully a second time. Consider taking a moment to write about three hundred words on what you think the author is saying. (If writing is hard for you, record your ideas.) Only then turn to the essay by one of your fellow students and discover what he or she has to say. Second, read charitably. Dont look for problems in the ideas on the first read. Great men and women have patterned their lives on the books you are reading. Why? Whats good about it? Whats true? Whats beautiful? Try to get inside the world of Homer and see what it would be like to think with his view of reality. Only then can you begin to judge it, because only then do you really understand it. Third, read argumentatively. Charity does not preclude being opinionated! After your second reading, compare, and bring into line, every thought with Gods Word. Then realize that you have only brought those thoughts into line with your thoughts about Gods Word! Ask yourself: are you right in your comprehension of that Word? Have you rightly understood the author, and the Author? Embrace a point of view, and argue for it forcefully, but be meek enough to realize you might need to change your ideas. Commit yourself, and then see what you find. Dont make the mistake of hiding any idea from the Way. Every thought must be examined by Godthe Word, the Logosincluding our beliefs about Him. Also, dont make the secondary mistake of starting over all the time
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in the vain belief that this shows humility. Ask the questions you really have, not ones you think you should have. If you come to wonder about Gods existence while reading this book, enjoy the wonder. But dont try to force yourself to doubt His existence if you truly do not. A double-minded and unstable man uses reason to undermine things he really knows to be true in order to justify his folly or sin. The single-minded man pursues the Logos knowing its the only choice he actually has. Fourth, dont try to get a last word on any of the authors. There is no harmand much valuein ending with tentative conclusions. Its highly unlikely any of us will ever fathom all the depths of any of these writers before we get to continue the Discussion in the real City of God. Spend some time with each, wrestle honestly, and then move on to the next. Come back another time and try again. As with physical fitness, mental fitness is a lifetime project. Fifth, pick at least one author and go read the entire work found in partial form here. I would recommend starting with Homer, because he is accessible and there are many good translations of his great works. If America does become a post-Christian society, then something like his view of reality may prevail. One more thing: Avoid secondary sources, and dont try to master all the details about an author. Most of us have loved something or other to deathlike the Star Trek fan who watches all the episodes and movies too many times and eventually ruins the fun. Being an expert on Shakespeare is not the same thing as enjoying and learning from his plays. Theres a place for the expert, but most of us will remain happy amateurs. Embrace that status. This book is not Wikipedia for Christians. If you want to know more about the writers life, check the Internet, but do so modestly. Youre being introduced to the Great Conversation: a dozens-of-centuries-long dialogue between reasonable people. Dont lose the flow of ideas through time by becoming overly focused on details. Its generally more important to listen to Plato than to know biographical facts about him. Treat the authors as if they were alive and speaking to you. Context is significant for a deeper understanding of them, but first try
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to grasp what endures in their work. What do they say that causes their words to speak to most people at most places at most times? Note: Each excerpt is preceded by a short introduction to help you form good questions while you read. Different scholars and intellectuals will then respond to the piece in an essay and offer some insights. Ill often intentionally broach different issues than the essay writers. Try to hear the two of us dialogue with the great author. Once again: Follow the argument, what Plato would call the logos, and keep an open mind. This pursuit is good for your soul and cannot harm you unless you stop being a follower. That might feel scary or tiring: scary because you might think it implies there is no truth, or tiring because it possibly sets up an endless journey. Rather, the passionate pursuit of the argument is hopefulit assumes that wondering can be wonderful and that humankind can continue making progress toward finding the truth. And the journey is not, so far as we know, endless; death brings us to the as-yet undiscovered country where, reports suggest, we will find full rest. Its crucial to grasp that not all the authors in this book are in (or near) the same place in their pursuit of the Logos. Most are Christians, but not all. We represent many traditions within Christendom, though most of the Christian authors are evangelical in practice and in conviction, and most of them resonate with more traditional forms of the faith. I am convinced with Justin Martyr that none of us can follow the argument, the logos, without following the Logos (the Word). If Christianity is true, then every argument will, if pursued to the end, lead to Jesus. Of the making of books there is no end, especially if one is allowed to make books out of excerpts of other books. But there is an end to our time, indeed to our lives. We had better prepare for the one certainty of that life: death. These excerpts will demonstrate how to live well and show how to die well.
John Mark N. Reynolds Torrey Honors Institute, 2011

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Chapter One

Homer
Ancient Greek (c. 850 BC)

efore the dialectical way was discovered (i.e., using reasoned argument in community with others), men told stories to find the truth. There is a place for storytelling in the dialect, but these ancient men only had the stories. Short of divine revelation, men walked blindly and tried to make sense of the world in the best way they knew. In the earths West, the blind poet Homer was the first known great storyteller. He wove an epic around the fall of the magnificent city of Troy, and he penned a second massive story around the return home of one of the wars victors, Odysseus. These tales are the epitome of centuries of thought, put together by genius, into a coherent worldview. These storytellers understood the futility of life and the nature of evil. Homer begins his Iliad in a war that does not end with the close of the text. His hero, Odysseus, wants only to come home; he recognizes that the life of the Greek gods was not suitable for men. Hope, in Homer, is less a virtue than a cheat imposed on humanity by the gods to keep us going. His deities are whimsical, and many are wicked.
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There is no fundamental order or pattern to the universe, and if Homer is right, then philosophy and science would be impossible. Homer was so great that Greek culture became imaginatively captive to him. This was a good thing up to a point, because his works were spectacularly wise. They had limits, however, and when those were reached, the Greek religious establishment refused to change. Homer made powerful men slavish devotees of idols unfit for a free mans worship. Socrates died for his failure to defeat the Homeric idols, and even Plato could not remove Homers evils from the Western imagination. It fell to a Jewish rabbi named Paul to begin the process, on the Areopagus in Athens, centuries after Socrates died. Christians are left with a Homer lacking the power of an establishment religion. The wisdom and beauty in the poet remains for us without the great peril. Polytheism may return in the post-Christian parts of the West, but if it does, it would do well to read the Iliad and the Odyssey, because this is the best of paganism. There is more virtue in Homer, and less danger, than in a prosperity gospel preacher, after all.

F Rom

The Odyssey
B ook I X
And Ulysses answered, King Alcinous, it is a good thing to hear a bard with such a divine voice as this man has. There is nothing better or more delightful than when a whole people make merry together, with the guests sitting orderly to listen, while the table is loaded with bread and meats, and the cup-bearer draws wine and fills his cup for every man. This is indeed as fair a sight as a man can see. Now, however, since you are inclined to ask the story of my sorrows, and rekindle my own sad memories in respect of
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them, I do not know how to begin, nor yet how to continue and conclude my tale, for the hand of heaven has been laid heavily upon me. Firstly, then, I will tell you my name that you too may know it, and one day, if I outlive this time of sorrow, may become my guests though I live so far away from all of you. I am Ulysses son of Laertes, reknowned among mankind for all manner of subtlety, so that my fame ascends to heaven. I live in Ithaca, where there is a high mountain called Neritum, covered with forests; and not far from it there is a group of islands very near to one anotherDulichium, Same, and the wooded island of Zacynthus. It lies squat on the horizon, all highest up in the sea towards the sunset, while the others lie away from it towards dawn. It is a rugged island, but it breeds brave men, and my eyes know none that they better love to look upon. The goddess Calypso kept me with her in her cave, and wanted me to marry her, as did also the cunning Aeaean goddess Circe; but they could neither of them persuade me, for there is nothing dearer to a man than his own country and his parents, and however splendid a home he may have in a foreign country, if it be far from father or mother, he does not care about it. Now, however, I will tell you of the many hazardous adventures which by Joves will I met with on my return from Troy. When I had set sail thence the wind took me first to Ismarus, which is the city of the Cicons. There I sacked the town and put the people to the sword. We took their wives and also much booty, which we divided equitably amongst us, so that none might have reason to complain. I then said that we had better make off at once, but my men very foolishly would not obey me, so they stayed there drinking much wine and killing great numbers of sheep and oxen on the sea shore. Meanwhile the Cicons cried out for help to other Cicons who lived inland. These were more in number, and stronger, and they were more skilled in the art of war, for they could fight, either from chariots or on foot as the occasion served; in the morning, therefore, they came as thick as leaves and bloom in summer, and the hand of heaven was against us, so that we were hard pressed. They set the battle in array near the ships, and the hosts aimed their bronze-shod spears at one another. So long as the day waxed and it was still morning, we held our own against them, though they were more in number than we; but as the sun went down, towards the time when men loose their oxen,
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the Cicons got the better of us, and we lost half a dozen men from every ship we had; so we got away with those that were left. Thence we sailed onward with sorrow in our hearts, but glad to have escaped death though we had lost our comrades, nor did we leave till we had thrice invoked each one of the poor fellows who had perished by the hands of the Cicons. Then Jove raised the North wind against us till it blew a hurricane, so that land and sky were hidden in thick clouds, and night sprang forth out of the heavens. We let the ships run before the gale, but the force of the wind tore our sails to tatters, so we took them down for fear of shipwreck, and rowed our hardest towards the land. There we lay two days and two nights suffering much alike from toil and distress of mind, but on the morning of the third day we again raised our masts, set sail, and took our places, letting the wind and steersmen direct our ship. I should have got home at that time unharmed had not the North wind and the currents been against me as I was doubling Cape Malea, and set me off my course hard by the island of Cythera. I was driven thence by foul winds for a space of nine days upon the sea, but on the tenth day we reached the land of the Lotus-eaters, who live on a food that comes from a kind of flower. Here we landed to take in fresh water, and our crews got their mid-day meal on the shore near the ships. When they had eaten and drunk I sent two of my company to see what manner of men the people of the place might be, and they had a third man under them. They started at once, and went about among the Lotus-eaters, who did them no hurt, but gave them to eat of the lotus, which was so delicious that those who ate of it left off caring about home, and did not even want to go back and say what had happened to them, but were for staying and munching lotus with the Lotus-eater without thinking further of their return; nevertheless, though they wept bitterly I forced them back to the ships and made them fast under the benches. Then I told the rest to go on board at once, lest any of them should taste of the lotus and leave off wanting to get home, so they took their places and smote the grey sea with their oars. We sailed hence, always in much distress, till we came to the land of the lawless and inhuman Cyclopes. Now the Cyclopes neither plant nor plough, but trust in providence, and live on such wheat, barley, and grapes as grow wild without any kind of tillage, and their wild grapes yield
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them wine as the sun and the rain may grow them. They have no laws nor assemblies of the people, but live in caves on the tops of high mountains; each is lord and master in his family, and they take no account of their neighbours. Now off their harbour there lies a wooded and fertile island not quite close to the land of the Cyclopes, but still not far. It is overrun with wild goats, that breed there in great numbers and are never disturbed by foot of man; for sportsmenwho as a rule will suffer so much hardship in forest or among mountain precipicesdo not go there, nor yet again is it ever ploughed or fed down, but it lies a wilderness untilled and unsown from year to year, and has no living thing upon it but only goats. For the Cyclopes have no ships, nor yet shipwrights who could make ships for them; they cannot therefore go from city to city, or sail over the sea to one anothers country as people who have ships can do; if they had had these they would have colonized the island, for it is a very good one, and would yield everything in due season. There are meadows that in some places come right down to the sea shore, well watered and full of luscious grass; grapes would do there excellently; there is level land for ploughing, and it would always yield heavily at harvest time, for the soil is deep. There is a good harbour where no cables are wanted, nor yet anchors, nor need a ship be moored, but all one has to do is to beach ones vessel and stay there till the wind becomes fair for putting out to sea again. At the head of the harbour there is a spring of clear water coming out of a cave, and there are poplars growing all round it. Here we entered, but so dark was the night that some god must have brought us in, for there was nothing whatever to be seen. A thick mist hung all round our ships; the moon was hidden behind a mass of clouds so that no one could have seen the island if he had looked for it, nor were there any breakers to tell us we were close in shore before we found ourselves upon the land itself; when, however, we had beached the ships, we took down the sails, went ashore and camped upon the beach till daybreak. When the child of morning, rosy-fingered Dawn, appeared, we admired the island and wandered all over it, while the nymphs Joves daughters roused the wild goats that we might get some meat for our dinner. On this we fetched our spears and bows and arrows from the ships, and dividing ourselves into three bands began to shoot the goats. Heaven
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sent us excellent sport; I had twelve ships with me, and each ship got nine goats, while my own ship had ten; thus through the livelong day to the going down of the sun we ate and drank our filland we had plenty of wine left, for each one of us had taken many jars full when we sacked the city of the Cicons, and this had not yet run out. While we were feasting we kept turning our eyes towards the land of the Cyclopes, which was hard by, and saw the smoke of their stubble fires. We could almost fancy we heard their voices and the bleating of their sheep and goats, but when the sun went down and it came on dark, we camped down upon the beach, and next morning I called a council. Stay here, my brave fellows, said I, all the rest of you, while I go with my ship and exploit these people myself: I want to see if they are uncivilized savages, or a hospitable and humane race. I went on board, bidding my men to do so also and loose the hawsers; so they took their places and smote the grey sea with their oars. When we got to the land, which was not far, there, on the face of a cliff near the sea, we saw a great cave overhung with laurels. It was a station for a great many sheep and goats, and outside there was a large yard, with a high wall round it made of stones built into the ground and of trees both pine and oak. This was the abode of a huge monster who was then away from home shepherding his flocks. He would have nothing to do with other people, but led the life of an outlaw. He was a horrid creature, not like a human being at all, but resembling rather some crag that stands out boldly against the sky on the top of a high mountain. I told my men to draw the ship ashore, and stay where they were, all but the twelve best among them, who were to go along with myself. I also took a goatskin of sweet black wine which had been given me by Maron, Apollo son of Euanthes, who was priest of Apollo the patron god of Ismarus, and lived within the wooded precincts of the temple. When we were sacking the city we respected him, and spared his life, as also his wife and child; so he made me some presents of great valueseven talents of fine gold, and a bowl of silver, with twelve jars of sweet wine, unblended, and of the most exquisite flavour. Not a man nor maid in the house knew about it, but only himself, his wife, and one housekeeper: when he drank it he mixed twenty parts of water to one of wine, and yet the fragrance from the mixing-bowl was so exquisite that it was impossible to refrain
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from drinking. I filled a large skin with this wine, and took a wallet full of provisions with me, for my mind misgave me that I might have to deal with some savage who would be of great strength, and would respect neither right nor law. We soon reached his cave, but he was out shepherding, so we went inside and took stock of all that we could see. His cheese-racks were loaded with cheeses, and he had more lambs and kids than his pens could hold. They were kept in separate flocks; first there were the hoggets, then the oldest of the younger lambs and lastly the very young ones all kept apart from one another; as for his dairy, all the vessels, bowls, and milk pails into which he milked, were swimming with whey. When they saw all this, my men begged me to let them first steal some cheeses, and make off with them to the ship; they would then return, drive down the lambs and kids, put them on board and sail away with them. It would have been indeed better if we had done so but I would not listen to them, for I wanted to see the owner himself, in the hope that he might give me a present. When, however, we saw him my poor men found him ill to deal with. We lit a fire, offered some of the cheeses in sacrifice, ate others of them, and then sat waiting till the Cyclops should come in with his sheep. When he came, he brought in with him a huge load of dry firewood to light the fire for his supper, and this he flung with such a noise on to the floor of his cave that we hid ourselves for fear at the far end of the cavern. Meanwhile he drove all the ewes inside, as well as the she-goats that he was going to milk, leaving the males, both rams and he-goats, outside in the yards. Then he rolled a huge stone to the mouth of the caveso huge that two and twenty strong four-wheeled waggons would not be enough to draw it from its place against the doorway. When he had so done he sat down and milked his ewes and goats, all in due course, and then let each of them have her own young. He curdled half the milk and set it aside in wicker strainers, but the other half he poured into bowls that he might drink it for his supper. When he had got through with all his work, he lit the fire, and then caught sight of us, whereon he said: Strangers, who are you? Where do sail from? Are you traders, or do you sail the sea as rovers, with your hands against every man, and every mans hand against you? We were frightened out of our senses by his loud voice and monstrous
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form, but I managed to say, We are Achaeans on our way home from Troy, but by the will of Jove, and stress of weather, we have been driven far out of our course. We are the people of Agamemnon, son of Atreus, who has won infinite renown throughout the whole world, by sacking so great a city and killing so many people. We therefore humbly pray you to show us some hospitality, and otherwise make us such presents as visitors may reasonably expect. May your excellency fear the wrath of heaven, for we are your suppliants, and Jove takes all respectable travellers under his protection, for he is the avenger of all suppliants and foreigners in distress. To this he gave me but a pitiless answer, Stranger, said he, you are a fool, or else you know nothing of this country. Talk to me, indeed, about fearing the gods or shunning their anger? We Cyclopes do not care about Jove or any of your blessed gods, for we are ever so much stronger than they. I shall not spare either yourself or your companions out of any regard for Jove, unless I am in the humour for doing so. And now tell me where you made your ship fast when you came on shore. Was it round the point, or is she lying straight off the land? He said this to draw me out, but I was too cunning to be caught in that way, so I answered with a lie; Neptune, said I, sent my ship on to the rocks at the far end of your country, and wrecked it. We were driven on to them from the open sea, but I and those who are with me escaped the jaws of death. The cruel wretch vouchsafed me not one word of answer, but with a sudden clutch he gripped up two of my men at once and dashed them down upon the ground as though they had been puppies. Their brains were shed upon the ground, and the earth was wet with their blood. Then he tore them limb from limb and supped upon them. He gobbled them up like a lion in the wilderness, flesh, bones, marrow, and entrails, without leaving anything uneaten. As for us, we wept and lifted up our hands to heaven on seeing such a horrid sight, for we did not know what else to do; but when the Cyclops had filled his huge paunch, and had washed down his meal of human flesh with a drink of neat milk, he stretched himself full length upon the ground among his sheep, and went to sleep. I was at first inclined to seize my sword, draw it, and drive it into his vitals, but I reflected that if I did we should all certainly be lost, for we should never be able to shift the stone which the monster
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had put in front of the door. So we stayed sobbing and sighing where we were till morning came. When the child of morning, rosy-fingered Dawn, appeared, he again lit his fire, milked his goats and ewes, all quite rightly, and then let each have her own young one; as soon as he had got through with all his work, he clutched up two more of my men, and began eating them for his mornings meal. Presently, with the utmost ease, he rolled the stone away from the door and drove out his sheep, but he at once put it back againas easily as though he were merely clapping the lid on to a quiver full of arrows. As soon as he had done so he shouted, and cried Shoo, shoo, after his sheep to drive them on to the mountain; so I was left to scheme some way of taking my revenge and covering myself with glory. In the end I deemed it would be the best plan to do as follows. The Cyclops had a great club which was lying near one of the sheep pens; it was of green olive wood, and he had cut it intending to use it for a staff as soon as it should be dry. It was so huge that we could only compare it to the mast of a twenty-oared merchant vessel of large burden, and able to venture out into open sea. I went up to this club and cut off about six feet of it; I then gave this piece to the men and told them to fine it evenly off at one end, which they proceeded to do, and lastly I brought it to a point myself, charring the end in the fire to make it harder. When I had done this I hid it under dung, which was lying about all over the cave, and told the men to cast lots which of them should venture along with myself to lift it and bore it into the monsters eye while he was asleep. The lot fell upon the very four whom I should have chosen, and I myself made five. In the evening the wretch came back from shepherding, and drove his flocks into the cavethis time driving them all inside, and not leaving any in the yards; I suppose some fancy must have taken him, or a god must have prompted him to do so. As soon as he had put the stone back to its place against the door, he sat down, milked his ewes and his goats all quite rightly, and then let each have her own young one; when he had got through with all this work, he gripped up two more of my men, and made his supper off them. So I went up to him with an ivy-wood bowl of black wine in my hands: Look here, Cyclops, said I, you have been eating a great deal of mans flesh, so take this and drink some wine, that you may see what kind
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of liquor we had on board my ship. I was bringing it to you as a drinkoffering, in the hope that you would take compassion upon me and further me on my way home, whereas all you do is to go on ramping and raving most intolerably. You ought to be ashamed yourself; how can you expect people to come see you any more if you treat them in this way? He then took the cup and drank. He was so delighted with the taste of the wine that he begged me for another bowl full. Be so kind, he said, as to give me some more, and tell me your name at once. I want to make you a present that you will be glad to have. We have wine even in this country, for our soil grows grapes and the sun ripens them, but this drinks like nectar and ambrosia all in one. I then gave him some more; three times did I fill the bowl for him, and three times did he drain it without thought or heed; then, when I saw that the wine had got into his head, I said to him as plausibly as I could: Cyclops, you ask my name and I will tell it you; give me, therefore, the present you promised me; my name is Noman; this is what my father and mother and my friends have always called me. But the cruel wretch said, Then I will eat all Nomans comrades before Noman himself, and will keep Noman for the last. This is the present that I will make him. As he spoke he reeled, and fell sprawling face upwards on the ground. His great neck hung heavily backwards and a deep sleep took hold upon him. Presently he turned sick, and threw up both wine and the gobbets of human flesh on which he had been gorging, for he was very drunk. Then I thrust the beam of wood far into the embers to heat it, and encouraged my men lest any of them should turn faint-hearted. When the wood, green though it was, was about to blaze, I drew it out of the fire glowing with heat, and my men gathered round me, for heaven had filled their hearts with courage. We drove the sharp end of the beam into the monsters eye, and bearing upon it with all my weight I kept turning it round and round as though I were boring a hole in a ships plank with an auger, which two men with a wheel and strap can keep on turning as long as they choose. Even thus did we bore the red hot beam into his eye, till the boiling blood bubbled all over it as we worked it round and round, so that the steam from the burning eyeball scalded his eyelids and eyebrows, and the roots of the eye sputtered in the fire. As a blacksmith plunges an axe or hatchet into
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cold water to temper itfor it is this that gives strength to the ironand it makes a great hiss as he does so, even thus did the Cyclops eye hiss round the beam of olive wood, and his hideous yells made the cave ring again. We ran away in a fright, but he plucked the beam all besmirched with gore from his eye, and hurled it from him in a frenzy of rage and pain, shouting as he did so to the other Cyclopes who lived on the bleak headlands near him; so they gathered from all quarters round his cave when they heard him crying, and asked what was the matter with him. What ails you, Polyphemus, said they, that you make such a noise, breaking the stillness of the night, and preventing us from being able to sleep? Surely no man is carrying off your sheep? Surely no man is trying to kill you either by fraud or by force? But Polyphemus shouted to them from inside the cave, Noman is killing me by fraud! Noman is killing me by force! Then, said they, if no man is attacking you, you must be ill; when Jove makes people ill, there is no help for it, and you had better pray to your father Neptune. Then they went away, and I laughed inwardly at the success of my clever stratagem, but the Cyclops, groaning and in an agony of pain, felt about with his hands till he found the stone and took it from the door; then he sat in the doorway and stretched his hands in front of it to catch anyone going out with the sheep, for he thought I might be foolish enough to attempt this. As for myself I kept on puzzling to think how I could best save my own life and those of my companions; I schemed and schemed, as one who knows that his life depends upon it, for the danger was very great. In the end I deemed that this plan would be the best. The male sheep were well grown, and carried a heavy black fleece, so I bound them noiselessly in threes together, with some of the withies on which the wicked monster used to sleep. There was to be a man under the middle sheep, and the two on either side were to cover him, so that there were three sheep to each man. As for myself there was a ram finer than any of the others, so I caught hold of him by the back, esconced myself in the thick wool under his belly, and flung on patiently to his fleece, face upwards, keeping a firm hold on it all the time. Thus, then, did we wait in great fear of mind till morning came, but
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when the child of morning, rosy-fingered Dawn, appeared, the male sheep hurried out to feed, while the ewes remained bleating about the pens waiting to be milked, for their udders were full to bursting; but their master in spite of all his pain felt the backs of all the sheep as they stood upright, without being sharp enough to find out that the men were underneath their bellies. As the ram was going out, last of all, heavy with its fleece and with the weight of my crafty self; Polyphemus laid hold of it and said: My good ram, what is it that makes you the last to leave my cave this morning? You are not wont to let the ewes go before you, but lead the mob with a run whether to flowery mead or bubbling fountain, and are the first to come home again at night; but now you lag last of all. Is it because you know your master has lost his eye, and are sorry because that wicked Noman and his horrid crew have got him down in his drink and blinded him? But I will have his life yet. If you could understand and talk, you would tell me where the wretch is hiding, and I would dash his brains upon the ground till they flew all over the cave. I should thus have some satisfaction for the harm this no-good Noman has done me. As he spoke he drove the ram outside, but when we were a little way out from the cave and yards, I first got from under the rams belly, and then freed my comrades; as for the sheep, which were very fat, by constantly heading them in the right direction we managed to drive them down to the ship. The crew rejoiced greatly at seeing those of us who had escaped death, but wept for the others whom the Cyclops had killed. However, I made signs to them by nodding and frowning that they were to hush their crying, and told them to get all the sheep on board at once and put out to sea; so they went aboard, took their places, and smote the grey sea with their oars. Then, when I had got as far out as my voice would reach, I began to jeer at the Cyclops. Cyclops, said I, you should have taken better measure of your man before eating up his comrades in your cave. You wretch, eat up your visitors in your own house? You might have known that your sin would find you out, and now Jove and the other gods have punished you. He got more and more furious as he heard me, so he tore the top from off a high mountain, and flung it just in front of my ship so that it was within a little of hitting the end of the rudder. The sea quaked as the rock fell into it, and the wash of the wave it raised carried us back towards
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the mainland, and forced us towards the shore. But I snatched up a long pole and kept the ship off, making signs to my men by nodding my head, that they must row for their lives, whereon they laid out with a will. When we had got twice as far as we were before, I was for jeering at the Cyclops again, but the men begged and prayed of me to hold my tongue. Do not, they exclaimed, be mad enough to provoke this savage creature further; he has thrown one rock at us already which drove us back again to the mainland, and we made sure it had been the death of us; if he had then heard any further sound of voices he would have pounded our heads and our ships timbers into a jelly with the rugged rocks he would have heaved at us, for he can throw them a long way. But I would not listen to them, and shouted out to him in my rage, Cyclops, if any one asks you who it was that put your eye out and spoiled your beauty, say it was the valiant warrior Ulysses, son of Laertes, who lives in Ithaca. On this he groaned, and cried out, Alas, alas, then the old prophecy about me is coming true. There was a prophet here, at one time, a man both brave and of great stature, Telemus son of Eurymus, who was an excellent seer, and did all the prophesying for the Cyclopes till he grew old; he told me that all this would happen to me some day, and said I should lose my sight by the hand of Ulysses. I have been all along expecting some one of imposing presence and superhuman strength, whereas he turns out to be a little insignificant weakling, who has managed to blind my eye by taking advantage of me in my drink; come here, then, Ulysses, that I may make you presents to show my hospitality, and urge Neptune to help you forward on your journeyfor Neptune and I are father and son. He, if he so will, shall heal me, which no one else neither god nor man can do. Then I said, I wish I could be as sure of killing you outright and sending you down to the house of Hades, as I am that it will take more than Neptune to cure that eye of yours. On this he lifted up his hands to the firmament of heaven and prayed, saying, Hear me, great Neptune; if I am indeed your own true-begotten son, grant that Ulysses may never reach his home alive; or if he must get back to his friends at last, let him do so late and in sore plight after losing all his men [let him reach his home in another mans ship and find trouble in his house.]
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Thus did he pray, and Neptune heard his prayer. Then he picked up a rock much larger than the first, swung it aloft and hurled it with prodigious force. It fell just short of the ship, but was within a little of hitting the end of the rudder. The sea quaked as the rock fell into it, and the wash of the wave it raised drove us onwards on our way towards the shore of the island. When at last we got to the island where we had left the rest of our ships, we found our comrades lamenting us, and anxiously awaiting our return. We ran our vessel upon the sands and got out of her on to the sea shore; we also landed the Cyclops sheep, and divided them equitably amongst us so that none might have reason to complain. As for the ram, my companions agreed that I should have it as an extra share; so I sacrificed it on the sea shore, and burned its thigh bones to Jove, who is the lord of all. But he heeded not my sacrifice, and only thought how he might destroy my ships and my comrades. Thus through the livelong day to the going down of the sun we feasted our fill on meat and drink, but when the sun went down and it came on dark, we camped upon the beach. When the child of morning, rosy-fingered Dawn, appeared, I bade my men on board and loose the hawsers. Then they took their places and smote the grey sea with their oars; so we sailed on with sorrow in our hearts, but glad to have escaped death though we had lost our comrades. Translated by Samuel Butler, 1900

Odysseus a Christian?
Al Geier

hen Cyclops devours two of his men, Odysseus, their warrior leader, immediately is inclined to take revenge, draw his sword, and slayor try to slaythe monster. But just at that moment, it is said, a different kind of spiritedness (heteros thymos) prevails. Odysseus realizes that if he kills Cyclops, he and his men will be unable to move the boulder that guards
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the entrance to the cave theyre in; theyll be trapped forever. Odysseuss restraint here is not an act of virtue but rather, under the circumstances, a completely pragmatic act. A little later, Odysseus suffers a relapse. When he and his men are departing, he cannot keep himself from boasting to the now blinded Cyclops that it was he, Odysseus from Ithaca, who took his sight. Cyclops, provoked, hurls a boulder and almost destroys the ship. This boast is neither virtuous nor pragmatic, but foolish. We are reminded of a similar foolishness in The Iliad by Achilles, the supposed best of the Achaians. As he is drawing his sword to slay Agamemnon, Athena comes down from Olympus and checks Achilles; she tells him to not draw his sword and to put aside his anger. Achilles does cease from drawing his sword but, in flagrant disregard of the command and the authority of the wise goddess, he does not put aside his anger, with terrible consequences developing. Odysseus, on the other hand, eventually recovers from his failure and, by the end, has become transformed. When Athena commands Odysseus to cease from anger toward the kin of the slain suitors, he yielded to her, and his heart was glad. Thus, unlike Achilles, Odysseus shows a proper regard for wisdom. Furthermore, his gladness suggests that here his restraint is not only pragmatic but that of a virtuous man. The first word of The Odyssey is man (andra). After all is said and done, it is Odysseus whos the real man, and the best of the Achaians. I say unto you, that ye resist not evil: but whosoever shall smite thee on thy right cheek, turn to him the other also (Matthew 5:39). The response of he who is smitten is not at all pragmatic, but neither is mere self-restraint virtuous. Nor is it goodness simply not to seek revenge. The only way the evil of smiting can be acknowledged is if it is not denied. And the only way it cannot be denied is if it is affirmed. Offering the other cheek, therefore, is a denial of the goodness of retaliation, of getting even. Getting even is not just; it is the repetition and increase of evil. On the other hand, offering the other cheek is the ending of any further evil. It too is a different kind of spiritedness, where the virtue of not getting even prevails over evening the score. What Odysseus refrained from doing was the manly thing to do. But it was also the Christian thing.