Slave, Servant, Surrogate: Eurykleia's Roles in Homer''s Odyssey

Slave, Servant, Surrogate: Eurykleia’s Roles in Homer’s Odyssey

          For some decades now – certainly since the publication of M.I. Finley’s The World of Odysseus in the early 1950s – the Homeric epics have been examined not only for the power of their myths but also for what they might reveal about real life in the ancient Greek cultures.  While it is difficult, perhaps, for most of us to acdcept the events detailed in the Iliad and Odyssey as “historical” documents, it is considerably easier to view the cultural attitudes reflected in these works as reflections of what could be termed the “memory” of the culture in pre-literate Greece before the eighth century B.C.E.  Furthermore, it can be persuasively argued, in the case of the Odyssey at least, that it survived over the pre-Homeric ages in part to simply remind listeners of what was and was not acceptable behavior.

            The society described in the Homeric epics can, therefore, be taken as the best mirror we have reflecting the society of the world that existed between the end of the Mycenaean civilization and the time of Homer – whoever he or she was or might have been.  One need not, incidentally, totally subscribe to Samuel Butler’s argument for a female author of the Odyssey to look to the poem for reflections of those virtues and qualities and rules of behavior required of and honored in the women of the Homeric family.  Apart from such “ambiguous” Odyssean women as Circe or Calypso, or certainly the Sirens, there are in the poem a number of carefully portrayed female characters.

            In addition to the faithful Penelope, the lovely Nausicaa and her powerful and fair-minded mother Arete and there is, of course, Helen as we find her in her post-Trojan War role as gracious hostess to

Telemachus and Pesistratos during their visit to Sparta.  Certainly, much could be said of each of these personalities as reflections, to some degree, of a woman’s role in the Homeric society.  It is, however, another woman in the poem, the old nurse Eurykleia, that I wish to consider for what her character might reveal about the roles of a woman – in this case a slave woman – in this Ithakan household.

            The great recognition scene in Odyssey 19 in which the old nurse Eurykleia uncovers the identifying scar on the leg of Odysseus is without doubt one of the most memorable in Western literature.  In its dramatic power alone the scene has few rivals in the poem.  Only those scenes, perhaps, detailing the blinding of Polyphemos (Od. 9) and Odysseus’ stringing of the bow (Od. 21) come close in comparison.

            Apart from the dramatic tension that the discovery of the scar generates, the action of the poem is driven along in several critical respects by the scene: notably the inevitable reuniting of Odysseus and Penelope, the eventual acts of revenge and retribution to be carried out against all guilty suitors and servants in the household, and the particular staging of the stringing of the bow are outlined.  Furthermore, this recognition scene is interesting for the role played by Athena in effectively diverting the attention of Penelope from an amazing scene: a scene that includes, in addition to what must have been an astonished gasp from the old nurse, the splashing of Odysseus’ leg into a basin which spills its contents over on to the floor, accompanied by a lengthy exchange of threatening whispers.  The scene is interesting in at least one other respect – the one on which I focus this paper: what it reveals about old Eurykleia herself and, by extension, what it reveals about individuals in her position of servitude in the poem and in the ancient world generally.  Such revelations are of particular interest because they tend to be inconsistent with traditional patterns of behavior depicted in Homer. 

            Like the inconsistent characterization of Telemachus in Odyssey 1-5 which focuses on developing social and political skills rather than testing his courage in battle as a basis for acquiring kleos, the characterization of Eurykleia is inconsistent with those of other slaves named in the poem.

            Having been purchased in her youth by Odysseus’ father Laertes and designated as a nurse, Eurykleia has obviously served the household of Odysseus for most of her life.  She is generally depicted in the poem as a servant, as in Book 1 when she puts Telemachos to bed, or when she is directed to run errands for Penelope or Telemachus or Odysseus.  At other times she acts as a trusted confidant for both Telemachus when he is leaving for Pylos and Sparta and for Odysseus himself when she discovers the scar.  Furthermore, since she has apparently nursed both Odysseus and Telemachus, and since Odysseus’ mother Antikleia appears in the poem only briefly as a shadow in the Underworld in Book 11, it has been suggested that Eurykleia also serves as a surrogate mother of sorts for both Odysseus and Telmachus.  That Eurykleia’s role as nurse is naturally very close to that of mother and their names – Antikleia and Eurykleia – are so similar further reinforces this point.

            We have, therefore, in Eurykleia, as my title suggests, a slave acting out multiple roles in the poem which, when examined carefully, might well provide a glimpse at least of a culture in transition, a world where a slave is still a slave but something more as well.

            M.I. Finley has observed that “the troubles of non-aristocratic herders, servants and peasants” were not fit subjects for “heroic poetry”; consequently, little is known of their day-to-day thoughts and feelings.  While no doubt this is generally true, both Eurykleia and Eumaeus, in this light, are clear exceptions to those in his observations. These exceptions could, of course, be attributed to the fact that, though they had, for apparently different reasons, fallen into slavery, they were both of noble birth.  They can, then, perhaps, be viewed as aristocrats who are simply victims of misfortune.

            In her marvelous work on women in classical antiquity titled Goddesses, Whores, Wives, and Slaves, Sara Pomoroy emphasizes the strong system of patriarchal values depicted in Homer, one in which “women were viewed symbolically and literally as properties – the prizes of contests and the spoils of conquest – and domination over them increased the male’s prestige.”[25]

            However, Pomoroy goes on to point out “women, free or slave, were valued (in the Homeric world) for their beauty and accomplishment.”  While male prisoners were either ransomed or put to death in the Homeric world, women and children were enslaved.  The picture given by Homer has apparently been confirmed by Mycenaean tablets listing large numbers of women and children, sometimes with their places of origin.

            We are informed of Eurykleia’s noble birth, as well as the level of respect awarded her at the end of Book 1 when she is introduced to accompany Telemachus to his sleeping quarters.  Curiously, we are informed that Odysseus’ father Laertes had purchased her “long ago when she was still in her first youth . . . and he favored her in his house as much as his own devoted wife, but never slept with her, for fear of his wife’s anger.”   Even here at her introduction into the poem, one finds, another instance of inconsistency.  When one learns that Eurykleia has been favored and respected in the household to the point that she has never been used by her owner for sexual satisfaction (a not uncommon outcome of the purchase of a young female slave) one somehow would like to learn that it was for reasons of genuine respect, rather than simple fear of Antikleia’s anger!

            Clearly, in the Homeric world a slave of either sex was actually the property of the master and was not permitted sexual relationships without the master’s consent.  In view of this fact, Pomoroy concluded “Eurykleia would have had to have given birth to a baby somehow, without incurring her master’s displeasure, for she became wetnurse to Laertes’ young son Odysseus, as well as, apparently, to his son Telemachus, and in her old age remained on affectionate terms with Odysseus’ family.” [26-27] The details of that life and those children of Eurykleia are not, however, as Finley has suggested, of particular concern in this heroic poem.  Slaves are seen as having no gods, no family lives, and no personal lives.  Those who do exercise personal whims, such as those servant women who cavort with the suitors, are put to death for their behavior, an act, ironically, which Eurykleia fully supports.

            Yet, after Odysseus’ return to Ithaka, the successful action of this poem – particularly his taking revenge on the suitors and reestablishing himself in his household – depends primarily on the roles played by the two most faithful slaves Eumaios and Eurykleia.  Sheila Murnaghan in her work Disguise and Recognition in the Odyssey suggests that while the recognitions involving Eumaeus and Eurykleia have often been read as devices for treating more important characters in the poems such as Telemachos and Penelope, it is possible to read the distribution of Odysseus’ recognitions “as a means of highlighting his dependence on the loyalty of his social subordinates.” [39] The tense moment of recognition by Eurykleia of the scar, she suggests, “dramatizes how much he needs to be able to rely on her and on others like her.”

            In reality, according to Murnaghan, the relationship between Odysseus and these two servants amounts to “a metaphorical kingship.”  Though neither is actually related to him by blood, she suggests, they both in the course of the action “lose their social inferiority as if it were a disguise like the one assumed by Odysseus.

            We learn that Eumaeus, who as a youth has been kidnapped and sold into slavery, had lived in Laertes’ house like a brother to Odysseus in their youth.  In Odyssey 15 in a response to the disguised Odysseus’ queries – a somewhat tender scene during which the old disguised beggar Odysseus pretends not to know the dear friend from his child, Eumaious recalls his relationship with Odysseus’ sister Ctimene to whom he was “only a little less favored.” However, when, says Eumaeus, “we had both arrived at our lovely prime, they gave her away for marriage . . . and for her were given numberless gifts; but the lady gave me a mantle and tunic . . . and sent me to the estate.  From the heart she loved me dearly.”

            The tone of these remarks, while clearly reflecting his acceptance of his lot as a slave, is also tinged with regret over the loss of simple social interactions which he valued in his youth.  “There is no sweet occasion now,” says Eumaeus, “to hear from my mistress in word or fact . . . and greatly the serving people miss the talk in their mistress’ presence, the asking of questions and eating and drinking there, then something to take home with them to the country – which always warms the hearts of the serving people.” [15.366 ff]  Clearly, here is a slave sharing his inner most feelings about his day to day existence.

            Yet, despite his early residence in the house of Laertes and Antikleia, Eumaeus has been relegated to the pig farm on the edge of the estate where he has served faithfully until Odysseus reappears at Odyssey 14.  Eumaeus has been deemed by Laertes and Antikleia a fit companion for their son Odysseus, but hardly a fit husband for their daughter.

            Likewise, it has been suggested that the account of Eurykleia’s history in Odyssey 1 which includes the naming of both her father and grandfather “makes it clear that she is Anticleia’s equal in social status and nearly her equal in position in the household of Laertes.” [Murnaghan 40] Such a view is reinforced in Odyssey 19 in the marvelous flashback which follows the recognition of the scar (reminiscent of a frozen frame in a film ) in which Eurykleia recalls the story of how the brave young Odysseus had acquired the wound while hunting a wild boar.  More important, for our purposes, is the preceeding recollection contained in the flashback detailing the actual naming of the infant Odysseus.  It is Eurykleia, not the child’s mother, who presents him to his grandfather Autolycus to be name.  It has been observed that “any reader of these lines who did not know otherwise would assume that Eurykleia was Odysseus’ mother.” [41]?

            That Eurykleai wields authority and influence in the household of Odysseus is made clear repeatedly.  A very interesting discussion of this aspect of authority was a subject of a paper by Helen Pournara-Karydas at out last gathering at St. Paul’s in which she argued that “Eurykleia has the authority to advise, praise and blame not only Telemachus and Penelope, but also Odysseus who, despite his harshness and seemingly unchallenged authority, in the end, always follows her suggestions.”  She also observed that while Odysseus chooses precisely when to reveal himself to everyone in the poem but Eurykleia who, of course, discovers him, an act which gives to her an element of power over him.

            From the moment she is introduced in the Odyssey Eurykleia is described as old and faithful, a loyal servant and nurse in the household of Odysseus, even a surrogate mother to two generations of males in that household.  Because of her loyalty and no doubt heroic efforts, the household has been held together for more than twenty years.  However, she remains a slave, and after she more or less presides over the reunion of Odysseus and Penelope in Odyssey 23 she vanishes from the poem.

            Near the end of Odyssey 23, set in the bedroom of Odysseus and Penelope, when Odysseus is reiterating to Penelope his instructions from Teiresias, Eurykleia and another servant are preparing with soft coverings the famous bed of Odysseus and Penelope. “Then,” we are told, “when they had worked and presently had a firm bed made, the old woman went away back to bed in her own place” [23.292] while the other servant Eurynome (who although named about whom we know little except she is faithful) actually carries the torch to guide the reunited lovers to their bed and to “their old ritual.”  This is the last we hear of the old nurse Eurykleia.

            When Odysseus has finished relating his instructions from Teiresias, Penelope replies: “If the gods are accomplishing a more prosperous old age, then there is hope that you shall have an escape from your troubles.” [23.286 ff]  The details of the troubles of Eurykleia, however, an individual of an even older age, have no place in the poem.  In contrast, we are given in the final scene a positive portrayal of old Laertes who has purchased Eurylkeia so long ago in “her first youth.”  Laertes has apparently abdicated his responsibilities to the household long ago and fled the estate for a distant farm to avoid the bother of the disruption to the household.  Eurykleia has, on the other hand, managed to muster the strength and fortitude over the years to hold the household together.

            Along with Eumaeus, she has for some reason remained loyal and faithful when she had more than occasion not to be.  Clearly, an unsettled household with an absent master is the perfect place for servants to grow more than a little shiftless and irresponsible unless there is a Eurykleia or a Eumaeus ( or, one recalls in the unforgettable Masterpiece Theater series “Upstairs, Downstairs”: A Mr. Hudson or a Mrs. Bridges) to sustain some semblance of order.  It is Eumaeus who hints at this condition when he, along with the disguised beggar Odysseus, encounters the old dog Argos in Odyssey 17. Argos is lying on a manure pile in a terrible mangy and tick-infested state, explains Eumaeus, in large part because the servants have neglected his care.  These conditions are natural and to be expected, says the swineherd, for “serving men, when their masters are no longer about, to make them work, are no longer willing to do their rightful duties.  For Zeus takes away one half of the virtue from a man, once the day of slavery closes upon him.”[17.320ff]  Yet, obviously he and Eurykleia are exceptions, having apparently maintained their complete virtue – in their twenty-year exercise of loyal servitude.

            These are unique characterizations in Homer, characterizations inconsistent with what has been portrayed as the traditional patterns of Homeric behavior.

            Such apparent inconsistencies and ironies in situation and characterization – variances from what might have long been assumed traditional patterns of behavior in that ancient world – have led the critic Charles Segal to suggest the Odyssey might well have been written in a time “when the heroic ideal [was] undergoing change and redefinition.”  A character such as Eurykleia – highly respected and valued, though still a slave – might be considered a further reflection of a redefinition of values, of an ancient elite culture bent on preserving a world founded on a caste system where subservient folks were meant to be used in all sorts of ways but also were expected still to know their proper place.

[This essay was originally presented to the 89^th Annual Meeting of the Classical Association of New England at Boston University, March 10-11 1995 whose central theme was “Women in the Ancient World: Life and Literature, History and Art.”]

End Notes

Finley, M.I. The World of Odysseus. Penguin Books, 1979.

Lattimore, Richmond, trans. The Odyssey of Homer. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1961.

Murnaghan, Sheila. Disguise and Recognition in the Odyssey. 1987.

Pomeroy, Sarah B. Goddesses, Whores, Wives, and Slaves: Women in Classical Antiquity. Schocken Books: New York, 1975.

Segal, C. Homer’s The Odyssey, ed. H. Bloom (New Haven, 1988).