Was Homer Blind?

 

Was Homer Blind?                

The bearded old man in the bust of Homer at the British Museum stares at you with blank sightless eyes and we are left with the question of how a blind man could have seen so much and have written about it with such artistry and eloquence. As I noted in Homer and the Passage of Time, “His ability to be able to describe with incredible detail the intricacies of war, armaments, battle formations and strategies, animal husbandry and farming, all things nautical, medical, artistic, theological, psychological, interpersonal, gastronomical, astronomical and meteorological without reference to pre-existing written texts, film or photography displays his genius beyond measure… He may have been blind, but he was not without insight or vision.”

The question at hand is, was Homer blind? Was he struck blind as some suggest when he gazed upon a vision of Achilles while visiting his tomb and the sun gleaming off the hero’s armour scorched his eyeballs? Or was he inflicted with sightlessness by Helen’s intervention with the gods, as her way of extracting revenge upon him for the terrible things that he had written about her? (Plato: Phaedrus 243a) Was the name Ὅμηρος (Hómēros) given to him because in the dialect of nearby Lesbos and other islands close to his birthplace, the blind are called homeroi, referring to those people who must be led by a guide? Is there any truth to the legend that Homer was blind? The fact of the matter is that we will never know if he was sightless or whether blindness was attributed to him as a way of explaining his mastery of the oral tradition of ancient Greek literature. It is well known that when one faculty is diminished, another often becomes stronger.

“just as the blind remember better, being released from having their faculty of memory engaged with objects of sight.” Aristotle Eudemian Ethics VIII 2, 1248 b 1-3

Being blind could have played some part in enhancing Homer’s ability to remember and recite long narratives from the oral tradition. Presenting him as the blind bard could be seen as a way of explaining his extraordinary talent.

Of course there is no direct evidence of Homer’s lack of sight, but there are references to the possibility in ancient writings. Aristotle is a frequent commentator on Homer, especially in his Poetics, and though it is evident that he regards him highly, his comments relate more to the poet’s works than his person. He makes the point that Homer knows how to stay out of the action and to seldom speak in his own voice, since he does not play any part in the story being told.

“Homer deserves praise for many things and especially for this, that alone of all poets he does not fail to understand what he ought to do himself. The poet should speak as seldom as possible in his own character, since he is not "representing" the story in that sense. Now the other poets play a part themselves throughout the poem and only occasionally "represent" a few things dramatically, but Homer after a brief prelude at once brings in a man or a woman or some other character, never without character, but all having character of their own.”

(Aristotle Poetics: 1460a)

            Aristotle’s great regard for Homer was captured by the painter Rembrandt in his work from 1653 entitled Aristotle with a Bust of Homer. Critics have said that in the very act of touching Homer’s head, Aristotle is thinking of nothing more than how to be Homer, for his achievement and his reputation carry on forever and his name has been immortalized. Perhaps Aristotle is even praying that the bust will come to life and that the blind bard will speak to him.

            Plutarch refers to Homer being blind in his writings and mentions the fact in the Life of Lycurgus as well as in the Life of Alexander. Similar references can also be found in Herodotus and by the author of Life of Homer who has come to be known as Pseudo-Herodotus. He says that Homer became blind after he returned from a journey to Ithaca. The poem entitled Hymn to Apollo of Delos, quoted in the History of Thucydides, is thought by some to have been authored by Homer and it is noted by the historian that it was written “by a blind man who lives on rugged Chios”, long held by many to be the birthplace of Homer. Thucydides refers to Homer many times in his works and considers him to be the starting point for his own historical narratives. Cicero tells us that, “The tradition exists that Homer was blind but we observe his painting, as well as his poetry” (Tusculan Disputations 5:39) In a lengthy section dealing with blindness, Cicero goes on to praise Homer for his artistic ability to be able to describe all things in such a manner that we can see clearly what he could not see himself.

            There are many more references to Homer’s blindness by authors of classical literature, ranging from the Greek historian Theopompus to Pausanias, Velleius Paterculus, Silius Italicus, Hesychius of Miletus and Suidas the Byzantine lexicographer. They all beg the question as to whether these various authors were influenced by independent sources or whether they were merely relying on a single source or referencing the commonly-held notion that the bard must have been blind because of his enormous poetic insight and his ability to portray objects, events and people in a manner far beyond the level of skill and perception held by someone with just an ordinary sense of vision. There is no actual proof of Homer’s sightlessness, but if indeed he was blind, we are still left with the question as to whether he was so from birth or was struck blind by the gleam of Achilles’ armour or by the curse placed on him by a vengeful Helen.

            So we turn to Homer’s narratives to seek an answer to our question about the author’s blindness. There are no references to blindness in the Iliad, but there are several in the Odyssey. That in itself raises many questions, none of which can be definitively answered. Was the author of the Iliad sighted but not the author of the Odyssey? Since scholars believe that there was a significant time lapse between the creation of the Iliad and the Odyssey, could this mean that Homer incurred blindness, if indeed he was blind, later on in life? Could this apparent discrepancy mean that there were two authors or more and that the notion of single authorship is false? Could the blindness of Homer be nothing more than a long-standing tradition rather than something based on fact? We have many questions, but we have no answers.

Invariably scholars and commentators turn to the character of Demodocus, the blind bard of the Odyssey, when discussing the possibility of Homer being blind. Demodocus first appears at a banquet in the palace of Alcinous, king of the Phaeacians on the island of Scherie and the father of the princess Nausicaa who discovered Odysseus shipwrecked and washed ashore on her homeland.

κῆρυξ δ' ἐγγύθεν ἦλθεν ἄγων ἐρίηρον ἀοιδόν,
τὸν πέρι Μοῦσ' ἐφίλησε, δίδου δ'ἀγαθόν τε κακόν τε:
ὀφθαλμῶν μὲν ἄμερσε, δίδου δ' ἡδεῖαν ἀοιδήν. Odyssey 8:62-64

Then the herald came along, leading the trusty minstrel who was regarded with great affection by the muse who had given him both good and evil, for she had taken away his sight but had given him the gift of music.

                Demodocus sang three songs at the king’s dinner party at which Odysseus was the guest. The first song was about a quarrel that had taken place, what the translator Robert Fagles called “a savage war of words” between Odysseus and Achilles during a dinner feast at the Danaan camp in Troy and how King Agamemnon rejoiced to watch the greatest warriors of the Achaeans argue with each other. Odysseus was so moved by the blind bard’s telling of this tale, as well as his final one about the famous horse and the fall of Troy, that he covered his head and face with his cape and wept bitterly. The second song that Demodocus performed was about the illicit love affair between Ares and Aphrodite and how the lame god Hephaestus set a trap for them and ensnared them in his defiled marriage bed so that the two lovers would become the laughing-stocks of Olympus. Before Demodocus sings his third song about the Trojan horse and the sack of Troy, Odysseus heaps great praise on him,

“Demodocus, above all other mortal men do I praise you, whether the Muse instructed you, the daughter of Zeus or Apollo himself, for exceedingly well do you sing of the fate of the Achaeans and all that they endured and all that the Achaeans suffered, just as if you had been there yourself or had heard it all from someone who had been there.”

            There are many who hold the belief that Homer was talking about himself and that the blind bard Demodocus was none other than Homer. Homer was the one who had such an in-depth knowledge and insight into what happened at Troy that he could bring the hero Odysseus to tears. Of course the timing is all wrong and Homer wrote his story centuries after the event and could not possibly have attended the banquet of King Alcinous, but perhaps he did take literary liberty by casting himself in the role of the blind singer Demodocus. It was not uncommon for heroes, be they warriors or writers, to heap great praise on themselves for κλέος or fame or renown or glory or enduring reputation was a concept that was highly valued in culture of ancient Greece and men made great efforts to obtain immortality through their heroic deeds on the battlefield or through the stories told about them throughout the ages. Homer’s search for long-lasting glory was likely no less intense, if he was blind and his aim was to make his stories and his reputation immortal.

            The second sightless man that Homer introduces to his narrative is the blind seer or prophet Tiresias from Thebes. One legend has him being struck blind after seeing Athena bathing naked and another holds that he was blinded after witnessing a fight between Zeus and Hera. Like Demodocus, Tiresias has special talents to compensate for his blindness. He was given the gift of prophecy and the ability to be able to see into the future and was regarded as profoundly wise and knowing. We are introduced to Tiresias in Book XI of the Odyssey. He lives in the Underworld and Odysseus travels there to meet him and to seek his guidance as he attempts to make his way back to his home in Ithaca.

            Tiresias tells Odysseus that his return home will be troublesome because, as Zeus the earth-shaker has informed the other gods, there is great anger towards Odysseus, on account of the fact that the hero blinded Polyphemus, the dear son of Poseidon. In addition, Tiresias warns Odysseus of the dangers in store for him if he or his men slaughter the sacred cattle of the sun god Helios. He also predicts the violence that will take place when Odysseus returns home and finds the arrogant suitors pursuing his faithful wife and his property. Finally he makes the prophecy that Odysseus will live a long and peaceful life and that he will die with his people living happily around him. In the Odyssey, the blindness of Tiresias is contrasted with his tremendous vision and insight, in the same way that the blindness of Demodocus is contrasted with his ability to recount the past and to sing about it in such a way that he can bring his listeners to tears. Homer praises blindness, but is this because Homer himself is blind? That is the burning question.

            With the wounding of the Cyclops Polyphemus by Odysseus, Homer casts blindness in an entirely different light. Polyphemus is made blind as a punishment for his evil ways. The monster is a brute and in Book IX of the Odyssey we find him slaughtering the sailors in his cave, beating their brains out and wetting the earth with their blood, tearing them from limb to limb and devouring them for his supper. Odysseus and his men prepared a sharpened olive stake by firing it to a point and then, after having gotten the monster stupefied with wine, drove the shaft into his single eye and twisted it around like an auger.

‘Cyclops, if any mortal man asks you about the shameful blinding of your eye, tell them that Odysseus the sacker of cities and son of Laertes blinded you, he who hails from Ithaca.’

            Thus I spoke and he groaned heavily and answered me back. ‘O woe is me for surely a prophecy that was uttered long ago has been visited upon me. There was a prophet who lived here, a good man and tall, namely Telemus the son of Eurymus and he excelled in the art of divination and he grew old as a prophet among the Cyclopes. It was he who told me about all these things that would happen in the future and that I would be blinded by the hands of Odysseus. So I always looked for some big and handsome man, clothed in great might, to come here. But now some no-account feeble weakling has come here and blinded my eye, after overcoming me with wine.’

            So Polyphemus suffers the ignominy of being blinded by a man called “Nobody”, a no-account feeble weakling who he later finds out is named Odysseus. Surely this shamed and defeated savage man-eater will just disappear from the minds of men and he will be forgotten over time and he will become the latest “Nobody”. But here we are, eons later, still talking about him. Perhaps the clue lies in the monster’s name, for what does “Polyphemus” really mean. If we study the two Greek roots of his name (πολύς and φήμη) we learn that he is “much spoken-of”, “many-voiced” or “very famous”. Like Demodocus and Tiresias, the name of the third blind character in Homer’s Odyssey lives on and he is remembered forever.

            So there we have it. We fine three main characters in the Odyssey who are all blind and there are no references to sightlessness in the Iliad. What can we make of all this? Classical scholars have long held that there was a significant time lapse between the creations of the two epics. If we accept the premise that a blind Homer thought so much about blindness and its ability to heighten other senses and that through this heightened awareness and vision an author could achieve immortality, then we must assume that the author of the Odyssey could possibly have been blind but that the author of the Iliad was not. If this is accepted, then we can further assume that the blind author was not born blind, but became sightless between the time of the creation of the Iliad and the authorship of the Odyssey. Of course there is another possibility, and that is that the authors of the Iliad and the Odyssey were not the same person. Classicists over the ages have long contended that this is the case and based on our evidence, or lack of it, let us go with this theory. So our conclusion is that the unknown author of the Iliad was not blind and that Homer is the blind bard of the Odyssey and that the ancient writers who called him by that name were correct in their assertions. Or perhaps not…