Racism and prejudice are everywhere, unconscious or directly offensive, from commercials to conversations; we deal with it. I am a Japanese-Iranian girl, with a Muslim turned Christian mom, a Bhuddist dad, and I dabble with Socialism and Capitalism: diversity is my middle name. I recently studied The Odyssey by Homer, and I don’t know if it’s just my cultural struggling and understanding, but I was so affected by a cruel scene justified by prejudices against Cyclops.

Cultural Affects in Writing and Reading of The Odyssey:
Justifying Cyclops Abuse

When writing the many oral tales of The Odyssey into one contained poem, Homer maintained and passed on the beliefs and cultural details of the ancient Greeks. The open weeping by men, devotion to loyalty and honor, and honest welcoming and generosity received by guests are especially interesting because they are cultural elements that exist now, but not nearly as prominent.

In The Odyssey, Homer uses the behavior of characters as guests or hosts to deem them “good” or “bad.” The only contradictory instance is that between Odysseus and Polyphemos. From the beginning of this encounter, our wise and just protagonist, Odysseus, seems wrong while monstrous Polyphemos is pitiable. Odysseus disrespects and attacks Polyphemos because he is an offensive creature, something different; this alludes to justification because of prejudice. There is no other way to defend Odysseus’ actions.

Within the first chapter, Athena goes to console and motivate Telemakhos. Being the thoughtful character he is he immediately welcomes the disguised goddess into his home. Overwhelmed with his troubles, Telemakhos explains how he's been shamed by the suitors and their “easy life, scot free, eating the livestock of another—a man whose bones are rotting somewhere now,” (6). Just a few pages in, the suitors are introduced as villains for taking advantage of the presumed to be dead Odysseus, Telemakhos’ father.

The venerability of a “good” host is next. Menelaos and Nestor open their homes to Telemakhos before knowing he is the son of their beloved friend, Odysseus. And Telemakhos is laudable for not proclaiming who he is and expecting to be accommodated with feasts and gifts. With these three men, Homer gives us perfect examples to learn the proper customs and actions of guests and hosts.

With the same modesty previously seen in Telemakhos, Odysseus approaches King Alkinoos. Finally released from Kalypso’s island, Odysseus makes it to Phaiakian shores. Being good, god-fearing people, they are incredibly hospitable and Odysseus is given a ship and a crew to continue his travels home. Not only is this another example enforcing the guest-host theme, but it also presents Odysseus as a role model guest, verifying that he knows how to behave as a guest. He humbly approaches the king and queen for assistance, is thankful for all he receives and compliments them and wishes them well. And as a good guest, Odysseus entertains the Phaiakians with his story of the cyclops.

And so we witness Odysseus as a different sort of guest. Before spending years with Kalypso, he and his men came across the island of the cyclops. Without being welcomed, they enter the vacant cave of Polyphemos, a cyclops and son of Posiedon.

Looking around, they could see “a prodigious man” lived a pastoral life there and “a practiced job he made of it,” (152). This describes a responsible person good people can relate to. Making cheese and suckling ewes are the tasks of a simple farmer, not the “wild man, ignorant of civility,” (151) Odysseus assumes Polyphemos to be. He leads into his tale saying, “I knew some towering brute would be upon us soon,” (151) but this detail seems inserted to only excuse their subsequent behavior.

When Polyphemos returns to his home to find strangers hidden within it, rather than rashly attacking them, he asks why are they there, whether “fair traffic” brought them, or if they are “wandering rogues,” (152). Concerned for himself and his home, Polyphemos questions whether these invaders are a threat. Not apologetic for their intrusion or willing to make a proper introduction, Odysseus responds with an actual threat: “Zeus will avenge the unoffending guest,” (153)!  Why shouldn’t Polyphemos react with anger? The suitors in Odysseus’ home suffer death for their crimes against their host.

It is not until after Odysseus and his men trespass against, steal from, and threaten Polyphemos that he becomes the monster the story makes him to be. Hell, most of us would want some sort of vengeance too. Thus, the gruesome capabilities of Polyphemos are revealed. After eating a few of Odysseus’ men and then being stabbed with a burning spear in the eye, we see Polyphemos wholly as the despairing victim he is. Alone and blind, he speaks to the ram with Odysseus hidden under it, “Sweet cousin ram, why lag behind the rest… Can you be grieving over your Master’s eye? The carrion rogue and his accurst companions burnt it out,” (158).

This is the saddest part of The Odyssey. Emotionally affected, I imagine this downcast giant abused by Western culture’s heroes, turning to the closest thing he has to a friend, which happens to be a ram unintentionally deceiving him. It’s pathetic and heartbreaking. How can it be that this miserable character has never been pitied or that no ancient Greek listener rooted for his vengeance?

Polyphemos is a cyclops, a monster: he is different. If Odysseus were to ever justify his crimes it would be based on this difference and therefore, based on prejudice principles.

Having lived in a society that pushes being “politically correct” or inner beauty and equality (at least we claim to), I find it discouraging when a piece of literature I respect alludes to or advocates principles that threaten me. I am a minority unconsciously assimilating to white standards all the time. I realize Polyphemos’ situation involves a mythical character, but the principles and justifications are real.

Whatever the scene with the cyclops intends to suggest, even if it is purely for entertainment, a message of obscure prejudice is conveyed. I do not want this message passed on and at the same time I highly recommend that people read The Odyssey. While a negative message cannot discredit quality, it is a distinct component that leaves you with a tainted feeling—this perfect work is not perfect by my cultural standards. There is no way to remedy it; I mainly just want it acknowledged. Letting indirect or obvious wrongs go by undeclared as wrong allows them to be excused as ignorable or “okay.” So in conclusion, we should appreciate The Odyssey as a revered poem of history but just as the actions of the suitors and other villains are considered bad, Odyssey’s prejudiced actions against the cyclops are unjust and should be deemed so.