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Heroic age · Ten more years · 5 min read

The long return

The Hospitality Test

The Odyssey is often read as an adventure. I think it's a long examination, and the subject is how people treat a stranger who turns up at their door.

The Odyssey is usually remembered as a string of adventures: a Cyclops, a witch, some Sirens, a whirlpool. But if you stop counting monsters and start counting how Odysseus is welcomed, a different pattern appears. Nearly every episode is a test of how a host behaves when a stranger arrives. The Greeks had a word for the custom, xenia, guest-friendship, and the poem reads to me like a long ranking of who passes and who fails.

The rule

First, what the rule actually was. In the Greek world, a traveller who arrived at your door was under the protection of Zeus himself, who had the title Xenios. You were expected to feed him, wash him, give him a place to sleep, and only then ask who he was. He, in turn, was expected not to abuse the welcome. Gifts were exchanged, and the relationship could be passed on to descendants. For people who travelled by sea and had no hotels, it was a kind of social infrastructure.

Keep that in mind and the poem starts to look like a catalogue of host behaviour, from the awful to the exemplary.

The monsters are bad hosts

Take the Cyclops Polyphemus. Odysseus and his men walk into his cave and politely wait for the owner. When Polyphemus comes back, Odysseus appeals to Zeus Xenios and asks for the customary gift. The giant answers that the Cyclopes don't care about Zeus, and then eats two of the men. His crime is not just murder. It's a violation of guest law, and his punishment follows. A man who treats strangers as food ends up blind in his own cave.

The same applies to the Laestrygonians, who destroy the fleet with boulders and spears. To the Lotus-eaters, whose welcome is gentle but fatal, because the guests lose any wish to go home. Even Circe, who turns the crew into pigs, is a kind of inverted host. She feeds them, and the food is the weapon.

Seen this way, the adventures are not random. They are a gallery of what happens to hospitality when it goes wrong, whether by cruelty or by over-kindness.

The best host is a slave

Now the surprise. When Odysseus finally lands on Ithaca, disguised as a beggar, he doesn't go to the palace. He goes to the hut of Eumaeus, his swineherd. Eumaeus is a slave, poor, with a small hut and a few pigs. He doesn't know that the beggar is his master. He simply does what the rule demands. He feeds him, gives him a cloak, and says that all strangers and beggars come from Zeus.

I think that scene is one of the great moral moments in Greek literature. The best host in the poem is not a king or a goddess. It's the person with the fewest resources, who gives most of what he has. Eumaeus's pigs are slaughtered for a stranger. In the economy of the poem, he's the richest man in Ithaca.

The Phaeacians and the performance

Compare that with the Phaeacians, who also pass the test, but in a more luxurious way. King Alcinous and Queen Arete take in the shipwrecked Odysseus, feed him, hold games, and eventually send him home with a ship and a pile of treasure. They are the model of generous hospitality, and the poem rewards them with an easy, pleasant stay.

Yet there's a twist. The Phaeacians are cut off from the world, and their ships take travellers home without asking questions. Poseidon is angry that they helped Odysseus, and in some versions turns their ship to stone and threatens to cover their city with a mountain. Even the ideal hosts are not safe from the gods' politics. Hospitality has a cost, and sometimes it is paid by the host.

The suitors

Now the real crime. In Odysseus's palace, a hundred or so young nobles have been camping out for years, courting his wife Penelope. They eat his cattle, drink his wine, sleep with his maids, and make no attempt to leave. They are guests who never go home and who treat the house as theirs.

That is the exact opposite of the guest's duty. They abuse the welcome. And when Odysseus turns up as a beggar, they mock him, throw a footstool at him, and refuse to share. The poem treats this as the worst of all possible offences. The suitors are not killed because they wanted to marry Penelope. They are killed because they violated the oldest law of the house.

Odysseus's revenge is bloody, but the poem insists it is just. The suitors are guests who have become predators, and the rule gives the host the right to defend his home. It's the reverse of what happened in the Cyclops's cave, where the host was the monster.

The final hospitality

One last scene I find lovely. When Odysseus and Penelope finally meet, she tests him, as she has tested every stranger. She tells a servant to move the marital bed out of their chamber. Odysseus, furious, says it can't be done, because he built it himself around a living olive tree, so the bed is rooted in the ground. Only he and she knew that. That is how she knows him.

It's another version of the guest test, turned around. The stranger has to prove he belongs, and the proof is something only a true member of the household would know. After twenty years the one welcome that matters is the one that comes from the bed.

What I take from it

So I read the Odyssey as a map of manners. It ranks every society Odysseus visits by how it treats a visitor, and it puts the poorest hut above the richest palace. The monsters are bad hosts, the nymphs are tempting hosts, the Phaeacians are generous hosts, and the suitors are the worst hosts of all. The moral of the story is not that a clever man can survive. It's that a decent man can only get home if some people along the way will open a door.