Shipwrecked

Front matter

= Sle K - Disaster and Transformation in Homer, Shakespeare, Defoe, and the Modern World

Ww 4 l l a ~ T =

James V. Morrison

CHAPTER I Shipwreck Narratives S w

Swept Away, an Italian film directed by Lina Wertmüller (1975), opens with a luxury yacht anchored in the beautiful blue Mediterranean. Wealthy couples explore caves, swim, drink, gamble, and live in a kind of paradise. Prominent among them is Raffaella (played by Mariangela Melato), who is blonde, spoiled, and arrogant. Among the crew on board is Gennarino (played by Giancarlo Giannini), a Communist with dark hair and a beard, who serves food, wine, and coffee to the owners and puts up with their disdain.

The adventure begins when Raffaella decides to go for a swim at dusk. Gennarino takes her toward the caves in one of the inflatable dinghies, though he warns that it is late, that the current is strong, and that the wind is against them. When the engine stalls, Raffaella assumes that they will be rescued, but Gennarino intones, “Speriamo” (Let’s hope so). They spend the night in the dinghy and wake up surrounded by water, with no land in sight. Even when the engine starts, they do not know which way to go.

After two nights adrift, they find land and row in. This is not a true shipwreck—though Raffaella keeps calling it that—but more of a “drifting away” (the full title of the film is Swept Away... by an Unusual Destiny in the Blue Sea of August).' Though Raffaella is delighted at landfall and assumes that they will find a hotel, Gennarino immediately climbs up rocky terrain and announces that they are on a “wild, uninhabited island.” No one—“Not a soul”—is there. This leads to a pivotal moment, for Raffaella orders Gennarino to climb again to make sure. He refuses, and when she says, “You can't draw blood from a stone,” Gennarino erupts. No longer will he defer:

“TI do what I fucking like . . . Go fuck yourself”

Gennarino and Raffaella respond to the shipwreck situation in very different ways. Gennarino is extremely competent: he finds an abandoned chapel for shelter, catches a lobster, starts a fire by reflecting the sun’s rays off a water bottle, retrieves fresh water from a river, and cooks his own meal. He sits there like a king enjoying his feast. Using his only tool, a pocket knife, he later sharpens reeds for fishing and snares a rabbit. Raffaella finds only a tiny sea urchin and comes begging for food. She asks how Gennarino can eat “while others are starving.” Gennarino finds this query wickedly ironic, coming from a rich woman who symbolizes wealth’s unjust distribution in society. When Raffaella attempts to buy his fish, she is told that it is not for sale. Capitalism is overthrown. Gennarino instructs Raffaella that she must earn her food by working—in this case, by washing his underpants. She must also say “please” and call him “Signore Carunchio” (signore meaning not only “mister” but also “lord” and “master”). The next day, Gennarino makes Raffaella wait on him just as he waited on her while on the yacht. That night, he sleeps alone in the chapel, slamming the door in Raffaella’s face.

‘The contrasts in the two islanders are obvious: male and female, rich and poor, capitalist and communist, and capable and clueless regarding survival.2 When Raffaella remarks that they must soon be rescued, he asks, “Who knows?” It may be years before they are rescued. But one thing is clear—their relationship has changed. The traditional Gennarino prescribes the new hierarchy: “You are a woman . . . You will wait on me. . . You will learn who the master is.” Gennarino tells Raffaella to kiss her master’s hand, and this leads to violence. When she is about to submit to his attempted rape, he rejects her: “/m saying no!” He wants her to love him and view him as her god. Gennarino is clearly in charge, and soon they willingly make love by the fire, on sand dunes, and in the waves by the beach.

This desert island has become a place of profound change. Such transformations are often explicitly announced. After his first angry outburst, Gennarino declares, “Gennarino is no more.” He is now lord and master (the “only one to make decisions”), while Raffaella is his servant. She also acknowledges, “I’m no longer my own self.” When a boat appears, Raffaella does not signal it and tells Gennarino that she has been “swept away by a crazy dream” and does not want it to end. She feels they now have a new life: “You and I were born here.” The past is irrelevant: “What do you care

2. Modleski (1976) speaks of Raffaella’s “threefold powerlessness: as a rich person who has never faced any grueling tests of survival, as a woman who is expected to be inadequate in physical skills and feats of daring, and as a person always vulnerable to sexual assault.”

Shipwreck Narratives + 3 what we were before?”? After “shipwreck,” these two stranded survivors must redefine their identities and their relationship.

Over time, Gennarino seeks proof that Raffaella is truly his, so when another boat appears, he signals it, and they are rescued. Raffaella’s husband comes in by helicopter; Gennarino’s wife emotionally cries, “I thought you were dead!” Reentry into the “old” world breaks whatever spell there was and returns Gennarino and Raffaella to the lives they led before.

This book presents the first comparative study of literary shipwrecks from the past four thousand years. The recurrent treatment of shipwrecks in epic poetry, drama, novels, science fiction, movies, television, and contemporary advertising demonstrates an enduring fascination with this scenario. I have narrowed my focus to those stories in which shipwreck survivors are stuck on an island for some period of time. In this situation—as we see in Swept Away—shipwrecks present the survivor with possibilities for a change in political and social status and for finding romance or even paradise. In some situations, this transformation may be considered a “rebirth” or “reinvention of self.”* While a storm, the destruction of the ship, loss of human life, and isolation from perhaps all civilization may seem disastrous, this dramatic turn of events may still offer a positive outcome: a new sort of life.

Three works confront the question of shipwreck, transformation, and new roles in an especially provocative and probing manner: Homer's Odyssey, Shakespeare’s The Tempest, and Defoe’s Robinson Crusoe. In Homer’s Odyssey, shipwrecks challenge Odysseus’ sense of self by forcing him to contemplate alternative forms of existence. He must fight to maintain—and at times regain—his identity. Shakespeare’s The Tempest explores the central themes of authority on and ownership of the island. In this play, the shipwreck itself appears to free the arrivals from any previous restraint: the island is a space where transformation can take place. Two central themes in Defoe’s Robinson Crusoe are Crusoe’s efforts to reestablish civilization and his inner transformation, a type of spiritual rebirth. In addition to analyzing these influential works, I will here explore a select number of modern adaptations,

3. Modleski (1976) notes how “the island which first looked formidable and ugly later appears paradisiacal, and there are long shots of the heavenly blue sea in August.” There are even subtle allusions to paradise in the Garden of Eden: according to Raffaella, Gennarino is “what man was like in nature before everything changed.”

4. After an actual wreck off the Massachusetts coast in 1635—and the loss of his four children—Anthony Thacher prays, “What I shall do or what course I shall take I know not. The Lord in his mercy direct me that I may so lead the new life which he hath given me as may be most to his own glory” (Lawrence (2004) 44, my italics).

mostly from the twentieth century, some familiar (Lord of the Flies, Gilligan's Island), some perhaps less so (the works of Caribbean writers Derek Walcott and Aimé Césaire). In each case, the narrative links transformation with the shipwreck scenario.

Shipwreck narratives generally include a common set of features. First, we encounter the storm at sea. Descriptions may include the lack of distinction between sea and sky and desperate prayers of those on board a ship. A frequent experience for shipwreck survivors is profound ignorance, regarding where they are (or if they are even on an island) and whether they face danger from savage cannibals or wild beasts. Connected to the theme of ignorance is the possibility of a divine epiphany; that is, a god may live on the island and meet the survivor, or those who live on the island may encounter (or believe they are encountering) a divinity emerging from the sea.

If the island is deserted, the survivor must obtain water, food, and shelter. The absence of “civilization” forces survivors to re-create the culture they knew before; failure to do so would bring about a more primitive mode of life. If more than one person arrives or if the island is already inhabited, a social hierarchy must be established, often at odds with the situation before the shipwreck. Since the time of Defoe’s Robinson Crusoe, the recurring leitmotif of a footprint on the beach indicates, of course, that the survivor is not alone. ‘The panorama of shipwreck narratives from ancient Egypt to the contemporary Caribbean reveals how islands, cut off from other inhabited lands, come to represent new worlds. It is remarkable that the situations facing the survivors of Oceanic Flight 815 in the television show Lost (2004-10) or that of Raffaella and Gennarino in Swept Away share so many features with Homer’s Odyssey and Shakespeare’s The Tempest.

Homer, Shakespeare, and Defoe not only tie shipwreck to the opportunities of another life; in different ways, each of these works calls into question the definition of the self. Indeed, the central thesis of this book is that authors of literary shipwrecks are continually exploring the identities and potential new roles of survivors. Sudden change marks a new stage in a person’s life; shipwrecks provide that pivotal hinge that distinguishes who you were from who you may become.

I should make two qualifications. First, it is certainly true that people embark on a new sort of existence due to many circumstances, such as war, exile, enslavement, or escape from captivity—sometimes by choice, sometimes by necessity. Nevertheless, there appears to be a particular appeal to the idea of a group of people isolated on an island: a little universe is created, in which drama may unfold. Part of this fascination derives from the primal

Shipwreck Narratives + 5 human fear that such disasters threaten not only survival but also one’s sense of self. We think we know who we are, yet these shipwreck narratives call into question one’s very identity.

Second, when I speak of “transformation” or “a new life,” I realize I am entering an area of much controversy, that of identity. I will follow a commonsense approach, based to a great extent on how we speak about ourselves. To be sure, memories are an important part of how a person thinks of himself or herself. In addition, people may identify themselves by family connections, hometown, or relations with others. We often mention activities or professions as a part of identity: for example, merchant, doctor, shipwright, farmer, storyteller. Today, gender, ethnicity, sexual orientation, nationality, religion, and politics are all voiced to explain who we are. When we contemplate “transformation,” this new identity consists partly of an outer labeling from taking on a new name, engaging in new activities, or a change in status. But there may also be an inner transformation, such as what Robinson Crusoe experiences. When I refer to a new sort of existence, this points, at a minimum, to a significant change that the character becomes aware of, remarks on, or considers adopting. Shipwrecks provide the setting for such alterations.

Each chapter of this book will focus on one or two aspects of the shipwreck narrative. Chapter 2 demonstrates that shipwrecks allow the poet to explore new roles and relationships for Odysseus, including an offer of immortality. Yet shipwrecks also serve as obstacles to Odysseus’ goal of returning to his former life in Ithaca. Chapter 3 explores narratives with survivors who, unlike Odysseus, accept the new roles offered by shipwreck, including the four-thousand-year-old Egyptian “Tale of the Shipwrecked Sailor.” Chapter 3 and subsequent chapters analyze how later works, such as Walcott’s stage version of The Odyssey: A Stage Version (1993b), respond to Homer, Shakespeare, and Defoe. These juxtapositions indicate the range of variation for a particular scenario and also suggest how normative the “classical” models actually are.

Chapter 4, on Shakespeare’s The Tempest, presents a shipwreck scenario that leads to social competition and the attempted seizure of power. There is a sense in which shipwrecks allow for a new start: both self and society may be transformed. Chapter 5 explores precursors and successors to The Tempest: Saint Paul’s shipwreck in the book of Acts; Césaire’s A Tempest (1968), a rewriting of Shakespeare’s play; and Forbidden Planet (1956), a science fiction film that translates the shipwreck scenario to outer space. In certain historical eras—often characterized by the exploration of “new worlds” and advances in technology—artists are likely to imagine adventure, mishap, and a new life borne after shipwreck (or its equivalent in outer space). In the modern world, questions of identity and possible reinvention present challenges for those who, descended from slaves or dominated by colonial powers, obtain political freedom and control over their own lives. An instance is Césaire’s A Tempest, which sets the issue of new roles against the context of the postcolonial world.’

In chapter 6, I explore how Defoe’s Robinson Crusoe, a single survivor on an uninhabited island, works to recapitulate human technological and cultural advances (agriculture, domestication of animals, etc.). Interestingly, we often find a real-life “trigger” that has inspired the poet, playwright, or novelist. Much as the shipwreck of the Sea Venture off the coast of Bermuda in 1609 inspired Shakespeare’s The Tempest (1611), the tale of Alexander Selkirk’s marooned existence off Chiles coast (1704-9) influenced various aspects of Crusoe’s life as presented in Defoe’s novel (1719).

Chapters 7, 8, and 9 examine precursors and adaptations of Defoe’s novel. As I discuss in chapter 7, Sophocles’ Philoctetes is not shipwrecked, yet his isolation on a deserted island presents one of the earliest “anthropological” views of human development. In fact, the play Philoctetes, the film Cast Away, and the science fiction novel First on Mars undermine any confidence promised by Crusoe’s many successes. Chapter 8 examines how the Crusoe story might be retold. In Walcott’s drama Pantomime (1978), two actors contemplate rewriting the relationship of Crusoe and Friday. In Coetzee’s novel Foe (1986), a new character, Susan, finds herself shipwrecked on “Cruso’s” island and offers tremendous insight into the survivor's need to control the shipwreck narrative itself. Chapter 9 discusses the tension between group effort and conflict in the novels The Mysterious Island and Lord of the Flies and the television series Lost and Gilligan’ Island. The conclusion in chapter 10 examines the marketing of shipwreck scenarios today. Islands in the Caribbean, Mediterranean, or South Pacific are often represented without inhabitants, suggesting shipwreck as a utopian escape.

What do we gain from this comparative study? In part, we can appreciate how attitudes shift toward the opportunities offered by shipwreck. Homer's Odyssey reveals a trajectory of returning to the previous order. Despite enticing new temptations, Odysseus—and some of the figures in The Tempest—trevert

5. As Davis (1997) 151 puts it, Césaire and others were “forging a national identity in the wake of colonial exploitation.”

Shipwreck Narratives + 7 to their previous lives, rejecting what many might consider to be paradise. Odysseus is reestablished as king; Prospero travels back to Milan. In such situations, we may more properly speak of potential transformations. Other shipwreck narratives—including many recent works—resist such a resolution and instead embrace the possibility of a new sort of existence. Only by juxtaposing ancient and modern narratives can we appreciate the vitality of the archetypal scene of a shipwreck survivor confronting the elements.

‘The focus of this book is quite narrow. The three narratives offered by Homer, Shakespeare, and Defoe are extremely influential and deserve our close examination. The inclusion of selected other literary and cinematic treatments has been determined by innovations on the basic pattern (e.g., a woman as the shipwreck survivor) or by the artistic quality and philosophical insight of a work. By necessity, this book omits analyses of many remarkable shipwreck stories: for example, Erasmus’ “Colloquy on Shipwrecks”; Swifts Gullivers Travels; Voltaire’s Candide; Poe’s “A Descent into the Maelstrom”; Tennyson’s “Enoch Arden”; Robert Browning’s “Caliban upon Setebos”; the works of Melville, Conrad, Kafka, and, more recently, Tournier (Vendredi—in English, Friday), Fowles, and Garcia~-Marquez; and the television series Survivor. The limited number of works under discussion here will allow for a wide-ranging yet in-depth exploration.°

Why do the stories of Homer, Shakespeare, and Defoe resonate today? I will return to this question in the concluding chapter, but let me mention now that there is a literary tradition linking shipwreck, identity, and transformation. While shipwrecks conjure up a life-or-death struggle, Homer, Shakespeare, Defoe, and their literary descendants probe the opportunities that such disasters offer for personal transformation and a better society.

From the perspective of the shipwrecked arrival, it is possible to re-create oneself in terms of identity and fortune. Shakespeare’s Antonio employs the vocabulary of the theater to articulate his hopes from a recent shipwreck.

We all were sea-swallowed, though some cast again, And by that destiny to perform an act

6. For example, I shall not examine Kafka’s parable of Robinson Crusoe; John Fowles’ “Shipwreck” in Wormholes (1998) 269-78; or Gabriel Garcia-Marquez’s The Story of the Shipwrecked Sailor, translated by Randolph Hogan (1986). There are also Elizabeth Bishop’s “Crusoe in England,” Elizabeth Nunez’s Prospero’ Daughter (2006), and even the Decemberists’ “The Mariner’s Revenge Song.” For artistic representations of shipwreck, see, e.g., Hurwit (2011), Goedde (1989), and J. Miles (2007).

Whereof what's past is prologue, what to come In yours and my discharge. (Tempest 2.1.252-55, my italics)

Antonio eagerly awaits the new role he may “perform” on this newfound island. In each of the works examined in this book, we find the chance for a new life.

CHAPTER 2 Shipwreck and Identity in Homer’s Odyssey S 2

Homer’s Odyssey, a Greek epic from the eighth century BCE, tells the story of a man who wants to go home.' Our focus here will be on shipwrecks and the possible new roles offered to Odysseus. Each opportunity challenges Odysseus’ sense of who he is, yet in order to maintain his identity, he must reject these options. Indeed, Odysseus fights to regain his identity— something that he is in danger of losing when he becomes “No-man” in the Cyclops’ cave, when he vanishes from human society for seven years on Calypso’s island, and when he is forced to beg for food in his own home in Ithaca. Other features connected with Odysseus’ shipwrecks will be noted and considered more fully in later chapters, including storm descriptions, rebirth imagery, divine epiphanies, and the shipwreck survivor taking on the role of storyteller.

Odysseus experiences two shipwrecks. The first one presented in the narrative lands Odysseus on Scheria, the Phaeacians’ island (book 5); the second occurs at the end of book 12—told retrospectively by Odysseus himself— when he arrives on Calypso’s island. Homer uses shipwrecks to reduce Odysseus to the most desperate circumstances. In both cases, a storm destroys his ship; Odysseus reaches shore, alone and desperate; and he meets a female benefactor who is a threat in some ways. These two shipwrecks place in danger his life, his return, his marriage, and the fate of his kingdom in Ithaca.’

1. I have concluded that Homer was an oral singer who dictated his poem to a scribe or scribes; he composed both the Ziad and the Odyssey in the last third of the eighth century BCE. I am well aware of differing opinions on these matters, but these controversies are largely irrelevant to this chapter.

2. See Louden (1999) on such structural patterns in the Odyssey.

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Homer not only presents Odysseus as involved in seaborne disasters but also connects arrival by shipwreck with the potential assumption of new roles.

Odysseus’ First Shipwreck and Marriage with Nausicaa

Odysseus’ first shipwreck brings him to Scheria, the island of the Phaeacians, where he encounters Nausicaa, daughter of King Alcinous. This occurs in the tenth year after the Trojan War, for Odysseus has already spent two years wandering and then seven more on Calypso’s island—he’s been away from home for nineteen years. Homer presents Odysseus’ departure from Calypso’s island, a sea journey, the storm and wreck, and finally the arrival of a naked Odysseus on an island. Each of these segments is elaborately described.

Although Odysseus’ life will soon be endangered, the initial stages of the departure and journey proceed in reassuring fashion. Far from human society, Odysseus must build his boat with tools Calypso has given him. He cuts down twenty trees, bores through planks, fits together a hull and gunwales, and fashions a mast and steering oar (5.228—62).° This is a typical feature at the end of the shipwreck experience: to leave an island, the survivors must either be rescued from the outside or construct their own means of escape. In part, this reminds us that Odysseus’ stay on Calypso’s island is actually bracketed by shipwrecks: one that brought him there (discussed below) and one at the end of this upcoming journey. Given supplies and directions by the goddess herself, Odysseus is joyful upon departure (5.263-77).

Regarding the journey, nothing of note occurs for the first seventeen days. Odysseus stays awake, keeping “the Bear” (the Big Dipper) on his left: he must be traveling eastward toward Ithaca across the Mediterranean. On the eighteenth day, he comes within sight of his destination, as the island’s mountains appear (5.278—81).

Odysseus’ luck shifts when Poseidon spots him and angrily stirs up the sea with his trident (5.282-94). What follows is the longest description of a storm and wreck in Homer, with seven speeches and four similes. Several features are characteristic for such storms. First, there are the forces of nature: clouds gather, the sea becomes rough, land and sea are hidden by clouds, and the sky blackens like night.

3. Odysseus’ skill in building a ship anticipates the technological similes that highlight the blinding of Polyphemus (9.382-88).

Poseidon gathered the clouds together and churned up the waves,

with both hands on his trident. He whipped up

all the gales from every direction and covered

both earth and sea with clouds. Night sprang up in the sky.

Together the East and South Winds clashed, and the raging West

and North Winds, sprung from the heavens, rolled a huge wave. (5.291-96)*

Here the natural elements are set in motion by the sea god. Then we have the travelers reaction. Remembering Calypso’s ominous prediction, Odysseus foresees his own death.

I wish I too had died there [in Troy] and met my fate that day when many Trojans hurled bronze-handled spears at me, fighting over the corpse of Achilles, son of Peleus. Then I would have received a funeral, and the Greeks would have spread my glory.

Now it is fated for me to be taken by a wretched death! (5.308-12)

Whenever a storm arises at sea, the traveler frequently reacts with fear and despair. Odysseus envies the warriors who died heroically in battle at Troy, contrasting his watery demise with a funeral on land: only a grave mound can ensure his lasting glory.’

Then damage to the vessel is described: a great wave comes; Odysseus falls off his craft and loses his steering oar, the sail is torn, and the ship’s tackle falls into the sea. Here Homer introduces the first simile (5.327—30), comparing the ship driven by a wave to a thistle carried by winds: “so the winds carried the ship this way and that on the sea.”

Next comes divine aid (or rescue). Divine powers are not always present in shipwreck narratives, but in this instance, a sea goddess, Leucothea, appears to Odysseus (5.333-36). She advises him to take off his clothes, tie an immortal veil around his chest, and swim for shore (5.339-50). Odysseus is skeptical—could this be a trick of the gods?—and decides to stay on the damaged ship (5.356—65). Yet when Poseidon scatters the planks of the boat,

4. Translations of Greek and Latin literary passages in this book are my own unless otherwise noted. 5. See de Jong (2001) 568 (s.v. 24.21-34).

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Odysseus strips off his clothing and decides to swim for it. A second goddess, Athena, helps by “tying down” the winds (5.382). Odysseus floats for two days, expecting to die (5.388-89); finally, on the third day, calm returns, and he sights land and considers how to make his way safely ashore.

While all the features mentioned above may not appear in every literary shipwreck, Homer’s description indicates the possible features of the storm and wreck episode: forces of nature; the travelers reaction; the ship being hit by a wave; people being thrown into the water; divine aid; a decision to abandon ship; and then a period of floating, swimming, or paddling on the sea.°

Trying to reach land, Odysseus is confronted by the island’s rough breakers and cliffs. As Odysseus contemplates his options, a wave drives him onto a rock. At this point, Homer highlights the risk to Odysseus.

A great wave covered him.

Then unlucky Odysseus would have perished—contrary to destiny— if owl-eyed Athena had not given him wisdom. (5.435-37)

Here Homer comments that the wave was so treacherous that Odysseus would have died without help from the goddess Athena.” Odysseus dives up and out of the wave and scans the coastline for a smooth beach. Heading toward the outflow of a river, he beseeches the river god to have pity on him, and his supplication is granted (5.441-53). Finally the exhausted Odysseus makes it to shore and collapses.

His knees buckle, and his strong arms fell limp; his heart was beaten down by the sea. His whole body was swollen, and lots of seawater gushed from his mouth and nostrils. Then, breathless and speechless, he lay there with only a little strength, as dire fatigue overwhelmed him. (5-453-57)

Despite his exhaustion, Odysseus revives and follows Leucothea’s instructions by untying the scarf and hurling it back into the sea. He then kisses

6. See de Jong (2001) 594-95, appendix D, “‘Storm’ Scenes in the Odyssey.” 7. On these “A if not B” comments by the poet, see the bibliography in de Jong (2001) xiv note 23.

the earth (5.458-64). Odysseus is now stranded on an island he was actually trying to reach (shipwreck arrivals usually take place on wholly unknown lands).

Odysseus’ arrival by sea in book 5 has been understood as a symbolic rebirth. He removes his clothes and swims for his life, emerging from the sea naked, swollen with brine, and desperate. Homer’s description cumulatively evokes the image of a newborn baby leaving a watery realm and emerging helpless. Certainly it is true that “the evocation of the birth process suggests a new beginning for the hero.”*

Once Odysseus has arrived, he contemplates the best location for survival, though each option presents danger: exposure to dew and cold by the river or falling prey to wild animals up in the woods (5.465-73). In the end, Odysseus nestles himself under two olive bushes, covers himself with leaves, and goes to sleep (5.491).”

Odysseus’ first encounter is with Nausicaa, the king’s daughter, who is prompted by Athena the next day to come to the river with her slaves to wash clothes. When Odysseus is awakened by the voices of Nausicaa and her female companions, the first question confronting him concerns the inhabitants of the island. His thoughts reveal the vulnerability and ignorance of shipwreck survivors.

O, cursed me! Whose land have I reached now?

Are they violent, savage, and lawless, or kind to travelers, with a god-fearing heart? (6.119—21)

Odysseus has already met with both sorts of “welcomes”: his men were eaten by Polyphemus the Cyclops and the Laestrygonians, yet Aeolus was (initially) hospitable. These episodes took place prior to his arrival on Nausicaa’s island but are told in flashback in books 9 and 10. His experience with diverse receptions on other islands makes Odysseus understandably cautious.

When Odysseus emerges, the servants run off, but Nausicaa stands firm. Odysseus confronts the problem of what to say upon arrival in a strange place. Although vulnerable, he demonstrates his ingenuity by cleverly flattering and manipulating an innocent maiden.

8. Newton (1984). 9. De Jong (2001) 147 argues that Odysseus’ covering of himself with leaves in a tree puts him in a “dehumanized situation” that anticipates the hungry lion simile at 6.1 30-37.

I beseech you, princess—are you a goddess or a mortal? If you are one of the gods who rule broad heaven, I would liken you most to Artemis, the daughter of mighty Zeus, in beauty, build, and bearing. (6.149-52)

Odysseus begins with the highest possible compliment, speculating that Nausicaa is a goddess. He then articulates the alternative possibility—that Nausicaa is mortal (6.153—57)—and praises her husband-to-be: “more blessed than all other men, / that man who wins you with gifts and leads you home as his bride!” (6.158—59).

Because he is the only shipwrecked survivor and no one else can identify him, Odysseus is successful in concealing his name for an inordinately long time. He reveals nothing of his name, home, family, or experiences at Troy (6.169-74), yet Nausicaa offers to help. She proves to be a shipwreck survivor’s dream: she is hospitable, helpful—and has lots of clean clothes (Odysseus is still naked). When he has washed and dressed, Nausicaa describes Odysseus to her companions as a god and hopes someone “like him” would end up being her husband (6.243—45). Nausicaa’s increasing interest raises the stakes for a romantic relationship between princess and shipwrecked stranger. While Odysseus’ actions may be understood as self-interested (he seeks a return to Ithaca), Nausicaa apparently contemplates a long-term relationship. '°