2.1–38

Rising from his bed the next morning, he girds himself for the confrontation:

ἦμος δ᾽ ἠριγένεια φάνη ῥοδοδάκτυλος Ἠώς,
ὤρνυτ᾽ ἄρ᾽ ἐξ εὐνῆφιν Ὀδυσσῆος φίλος υἱὸς
εἵματα ἑσσάμενος, περὶ δὲ ξίφος ὀξὺ θέτ᾽ ὤμῳ,
ποσσὶ δ᾽ ὑπὸ λιπαροῖσιν ἐδήσατο καλὰ πέδιλα,
βῆ δ᾽ ἴμεν ἐκ θαλάμοιο θεῷ ἐναλίγκιος ἄντην.

Now when early-born, rosy-fingered Dawn appeared, 
the dear son of Odysseus rose from his bed. 
Putting on his clothes, he slung a sharp sword over his shoulder 
and bound lovely sandals under his shining feet. 
He stepped out of his bedroom in the image of a god.

Odyssey 2.1–5¹

The style here is traditional and elevated, a miniature arming scene to boost the young man’s profile. The rising of no less a hero than Menelaus will be described in exactly the same language (4.308–12). The poet seems to be signaling the young prince’s readiness for the next phase in his evolution toward maturity. Heralds summon the men of Ithaka to gather for the assembly and they appear promptly. Again, the language is traditional, marking the occasion with an air of importance. Telemachus then makes his entrance:

βῆ ῥ᾽ ἴμεν εἰς ἀγορήν, παλάμῃ δ᾽ ἔχε χάλκεον ἔγχος,
οὐκ οἶος, ἅμα τῷ γε δύω κύνες ἀργοὶ ἕποντο.
θεσπεσίην δ᾽ ἄρα τῷ γε χάριν κατέχευεν Ἀθήνη.
τὸν δ ἄρα πάντες λαοὶ ἐπερχόμενον θηεῦντο:
ἕζετο δ᾽ ἐν πατρὸς θώκῳ, εἶξαν δὲ γέροντες.

He stepped into the meeting place, holding a bronze spear in his hand,
not alone, but two sharp-toothed dogs followed along with him. 
Athena poured enchanting grace over him, 
and all the people assembled there gazed at him as he came forward. 
He sat on his father’s seat, and the elders made way for him.

Odyssey 2.10–14

So far, all the signs point toward success for Telemachus. His entrance causes a stir, the elders acknowledge him, and he takes his father’s place at the front. The entire sequence foreshadows a possible outcome for Telemachus’s journey to adulthood, as he displaces older men—possibly even his father—in the seat of power. It begins to look as if his new assertive manner might be enough to drive the suitors away. But the poet is careful to qualify the young prince’s debut with a subtle stylistic gesture:

οὐκ οἶος, ἅμα τῷ γε δύω κύνες ἀργοὶ ἕποντο.

[He went] not alone, but two sharp-toothed dogs followed him.

Odyssey 2.11

We have seen that when Penelope appears before the suitors in the palace, she is “not alone,” but accompanied by two handmaidens and wears a veil (1.331–35; cf.16.409–16; 18.207–11; 21.363–66). As a proper married woman, she must be “covered.” This “attendance” motif extends to unmarried women, as in the case of Nausicaa (6.19) (see essay on 1.1–43), in that case symbolizing virginity, and also to males. The most striking example of the latter appears as Achilles prepares to release the corpse of Hector to Priam in Iliad 24:

Πηλεΐδης δ᾽ οἴκοιο λέων ὣς ἆλτο θύραζε
οὐκ οἶος, ἅμα τῷ γε δύω θεράποντες ἕποντο
ἥρως Αὐτομέδων ἠδ᾽ Ἄλκιμος, οὕς ῥα μάλιστα
τῖ᾽ Ἀχιλεὺς ἑτάρων μετὰ Πάτροκλόν γε θανόντα

The son of Peleus leapt to the door like a lion, 
not alone, but two squires followed him, 
the heroes Automedon and Alkimos, whom he honored 
most among his companions after the dead Patroclus.

Iliad 24.572–75

Being attended signifies propriety for males, as it does for women, but as an emblem of authority rather than modesty (e.g., Aeneas at Il. 2.822 and Menelaus at Od. 15.100). By receiving Priam graciously, Achilles reruns to his proper heroic status in the Greek army, after his frightening rampage in Books 19–22. 

By giving Telemachus dogs in attendance rather than men, the poet suggests, however gently, that he is not quite ready for the leadership role in Ithaka. Dogs often reflect something of their owners in the Odyssey. The fierce guard dogs that the disguised Odysseus encounters at the compound of the swineherd Eumaeus channel their owner’s loyalty to the absent king (14.29–47); Argos, Odysseus’s aged hunting dog, mirrors his master’s famous endurance by hanging on just long enough to greet his returning master before dying (17.290–310). So here, the eager hounds that trail Telemachus into the assembly have his willingness but cannot offer the support that would put him in charge of the unruly suitors.

The meeting begins as Homer reminds us that the suitors are part of a larger population in Ithaka and the surrounding area. A local man gets things started by asking who called the assembly. As the father of three sons, one of whom has died in the cave of the Cyclops, another of whom is among the suitors, and a third who has stayed home, Aegytius is entitled to speak from a position of neutrality in the current dispute. (How he knows about his son’s death in the monster’s cave is unclear. Small discrepancies like this do occur in Homeric poetry, but nothing that would change the major events in the story. There are, after all, a lot of names for a singer to keep straight.) He wonders what news could have arrived to require an assembly, since none has been called in the twenty years since Odysseus left for Troy.  

The poet has pumped as much excitement as possible into this moment. The long-empty seat of the king is now filled for the moment, by the young man who, even according to the suitors, has a presumptive claim on the kingship in Ithaka if Odysseus does not return. But there are mixed signals about Telemachus’s readiness. On the one hand, nudged by the disguised goddess, he feels a new urgency about finding out what he can of his father’s fate, evident in the assertiveness that takes both Penelope and the suitors by surprise. Other stylistic gestures cast some doubt on his level of maturity, the cozy, protected bedroom he sleeps in, his reliance on canine rather than human attendants. Now he jumps at the chance to make his case, and a trusty herald hands him the scepter, symbol of authority in an assembly.

Footnotes

1. All translations of Greek or Latin are mine.

Further Reading

Edwards, M. 1987. Homer: Poet of the Iliad, 72–74. Baltimore and London: Johns Hopkins University Press.

Nagler. M. 1974. Spontaneity and Tradition: The Oral Art of Homer, 64–111. Berkeley and Los Angeles: University of California Press.

Tracy, S. 1990. The Story of the Odyssey, 11–16. Princeton: Princeton University Press.