The scene with Thersites in Book II of the Iliad is one of the most famous in the whole epic, and with good reason. Not only is it very peculiar, but it also gives voice to what any young person reading the Iliad for the first time must be thinking: why on earth are all these people getting killed for Menelaus just because someone stole his wife?
Thersites more or less asks what the point of the whole Trojan War is and gets beaten and humiliated for his trouble. Here is the scene, abridged a bit, in Richmond Lattimore’s translation:
But [Thersites], crying the words aloud, scolded Agamemnon:
‘Son of Atreus, what thing further do you want, or find fault with
now? Your shelters are filled with bronze, there are plenty of the choicest
women for you within your shelter, whom we Achaians
give to you first of all whenever we capture some stronghold.
Or is it still more gold you will be wanting, that some son
of the Trojans, breakers of horses, brings as ransom out of Ilion,
one that I, or some other Achaian, capture and bring in?…
My good fools, poor abuses, you women, not men, of Achaia,
let us go back home in our ships, and leave this man here
by himself in Troy to mull his prizes of honour
that he may find out whether or not we others are helping him.
And now he has dishonoured Achilleus, a man much better
than he is. He has taken his prize by force and keeps her….’
So he spoke, Thersites, abusing Agamemnon
the shepherd of the people. But brilliant Odysseus swiftly
came beside him scowling and laid a harsh word upon him:
‘Fluent orator though you be, Thersites, your words are
ill-considered. Stop, nor stand up alone against princes.
Out of all those who came beneath Ilion with Atreides
I assert there is no worse man than you are. Therefore
you shall not lift up your mouth to argue with princes,
cast reproaches into their teeth, nor sustain the homegoing….’
So he spoke and dashed the sceptre against his back and
shoulders, and he doubled over, and a round tear dropped from him,
and a bloody welt stood up between his shoulders under
the golden sceptre’s stroke, and he sat down again, frightened,
in pain, and looking helplessly about wiped off the tear-drops.
Sorry though the men were they laughed over him happily,
and thus they would speak to each other, each looking at the man next him:
‘Come now: Odysseus has done excellent things by thousands,
bringing forward good counsels and ordering armed encounters;
but now this is far the best thing he ever has accomplished
among the Argives, to keep this thrower of words, this braggart
out of assembly. Never again will his proud heart stir him
up, to wrangle with the princes in words of revilement.’
So spoke the multitude….
Moses Finley, in his powerful little book The World of Odysseus, says:
Those final words, “so spoke the multitude,” protest too much. It is as if the poet himself felt that he had overdrawn the contrast. [Homer says that] even the commoners among the Hellenes stood aghast at Thersites’ defective sense of fitness, and though they pitied him as one of their own, they concurred with full heart in the rebuke administered by Odysseus and in the methods he employed. “This is by far the best thing he has done among the Argives” indeed, for Thersites had gnawed at the foundations on which the world of Odysseus was erected.
And indeed, it’s pushing it to have the other commoners praise Odysseus and ridicule one of their own. Another odd note is sounded by having it be Odysseus, easily the slimiest of the aristocratic warriors, administer the rebuke. Odysseus got a lot slimier after Homer, with the introduction of stories about him framing Palamedes for treason and getting him stoned to death. Still, he’s about the last person you’d expect the commoners to cheer for, especially compared to the far more appealing Achilles.
On the other hand, this might well be what you’d expect the multitude to say if they were completely cowed by a social system privileging an aristocratic upper class of princes, either out of fear or false consciousness. “Good work, Odysseus! Put us in our place!”
Hegel and Nietzsche picked up on this to some extent, and Nietzsche, as usual, had a good line about it: “Socrates is the revenge for Thersites…the ugly plebeian Socrates killed the authority of the wonderful myth in Greece.”
Simone Weil, siding of course with Thersites, had a good line too: “Reasonable words fall into the void.”
But to go back to the scene itself, the most painful part does not seem to be the beating but the jeering, coming from the very people Thersites seemed to be speaking for. Every time you are shot down from a position of greater authority, every time you are chastised for speaking out of turn, each time you meet the ridicule of your own peers for questioning your superiors, each time you are put in your place, you are Thersites. And if you have never experienced this feeling, you should look closely at your life.
3 May 2013 at 19:20
This is very well written and thought provoking.
14 September 2013 at 08:22
hmm…must agree with N: T ‘owned’ A’s sceptre; what was O doing with it?
10 March 2014 at 12:51
When I read Homer, I never judge any of the characters — not even Agamemnon.
The reason why mortals should never judge the immortal gods, is because the gods can teach us very important things about life and we can benefit from certain understanding. But the gods – being immortal – never suffer the ultimate penalty for their moral flaws, while we can and do. The reason why the gods are so beneficial to us, is because the gods share enough of a nature with us, that we can learn from them. The reason why we should not judge them, is because if they become angry, they may remove themselves from our midst — and that would be very bad for mortals, because we would have to learn all the wisdoms of the world by trial and error for ourselves… how many of us do you think, could survive such a life of hardship? Not I.
The characters of Homer, are indeed gods, being immortal. Since they are characters of a story, they aren’t real like you and I. They exist only in the ethereal world of our minds. Hence, they are gods. So, since the characters of Homer are all gods in this sense — even Thersites — I do not judge the characters. Not seriously, anyway. Instead, I sympathize with them, and hold each of them in awe.
It’s true Thersites spoke out of turn. It’s also true, that he spoke what was plain truth, revealing the bleeding heart of Achilles and organizing the experiences of the Greeks with this accurate words.
Here is my own insight. None of it is in the words of Homer explicitly; only, it is what the gods have revealed to me:
Helen, is an embodiment of the Greek honor. To say the Greeks set sail for the sake of Helen, is to say that the Greeks set sail against Troy, for the sake of their honor in keeping a promise of alliance to Menelaus, Helen’s husband. (There is a back-story about a political agreement, surrounding the marriage of Helen.)
What Thersites said, was partly what the Greeks felt inside – they had been away from home for 10 years now, and they each genuinely wished for the campaign to end so that they could go home to their own wives.
The act of Odysseus making a shameful sight out of Thersites, was not to rebuke him for speaking out of turn. It was an indirect way to rebuke the warriors, who in their hearts welcomed the sentiments expressed by Thersites — for Odysseus felt that they were on the brink of dishonoring themselves. By creating a visual reminder of how hateful it is to be shamed and dishonored (via unlucky Thersites), Odysseus raises the morale of the men. He reminds them again – through visual communication – of the reason that compelled them to set sail in the first place: love of the honor and dignity that comes from making good on given words.
Thersites, was unlucky in that he himself chose to be the source of laughter of Greeks by playing jester; and, he spoke serious words though his chosen role was as a jester (see line 249ish: “baiting the kings– anything to provoke some laughter from the troops.”). In some sense, Odysseus actually helped Thersites at his own aim, if it was indeed to make the troops laugh and be in lighter spirits.
For Thersites was looking to the interests of the soldiers’ bodily happinesses. Odysseus, was looking to the interests of the soldiers’ immortal happinesses. Luckily for the Greeks, they were led by Odysseus, and that is why they are remembered and honored by us — well, by me at least — to this very day.
May the memory of our own 300 noble firefighters on Sept. 11, be so cherished and remembered, as the ancient Greeks honored the Spartans at Thermopylae! May the memory of their deeds, live eternally in the hearts of their friends and community, so that we may be remembered in turn, for our honoring such noble men and women. For they also took a stand, and gave their lives to make good on a given word: that they would “protect and serve.” May their children never be friendless or homeless or otherwise without resources, so long as their community and friends shall live.
25 September 2014 at 21:45
It is amazing when we find our mirror image or that fleeting reflection we would have ourselves be. That is, not to be superfluous, but to see that art in literature does reflect and not imitate life. To be called insolent if not arrogant is no great shame or to quiver from the results of your words or actions in the face of power. WE need more and authentic Theristes willing to embrace their insolence, and Not as many worldly characters such as Odysseus willing to embrace the fantastic and risk the mundane.
7 August 2017 at 08:26
I have always found the Thersites scene endlessly intriguing. What was Homer thinking, what was he trying to accomplish with that scene? I think explanations of the type offered by Burke (i.e. Homer had to appease any feelings of criticisms of Agamemnon that the audience might experience) too cerebral, since it explains it on the level of the artist, but not why it should have worked for the audience. Indeed, I wonder whether it worked for the audience at all, judging from the reception by not only Plato, but even such a psychologically sophisticated thinker as Epictetus, whose discourses address the figure of Thersites a number of times, but never rise much above the level of the commoners’ approval of Odysseus’ rebukes.
22 October 2017 at 14:25
When in doubt, leave them out. Too many commas AlethesSophia, especially between subject and verb. You are not writing a speech. “The reason why mortals should never judge the immortal gods, is because the gods can teach us very important thing . .” Also the “reason why” is a tautology, especially ann0ying is the “because” after the copulative verb. You’ve just said the reason, reason is the reason the gods can teach us. Take out why and because. The reason mortals should never judge. . .is [that] the gods can. . .Really? The Hellenistic gods are capricious, dim-witted, and vain.
22 October 2017 at 14:39
Hi Martha, yes thank you for the grammar and the editing. You’re right, I should write better, even if it’s just a casual reply to a post. There’s no excuse for bad writing.
But as for the “really” — Yes, really! I was speaking of the Hellenic gods and NOT the Hellenistic gods, but even so, I think that mortals can learn from all sorts of behavior. As I had said, the gods “never suffer the ultimate penalty for their moral flaws.” That is, they don’t die. But we do. So we can learn what NOT to do.
I don’t mean that we can learn what TO DO, as if the gods were models. Sometimes we can learn that too. But sometimes, we learn what NOT to do.
24 October 2017 at 13:23
Anyways, it is my opinion that modeling what TO do is what little children may require. But an existentialist like myself and Plato/Socrates would at some point grow out of models of what TO do or be, and we could also learn from models of what NOT to do or be. We can observe the world, and ourselves, and choose what we want to shape our selves and our lives into — for “being” requires both the WHAT-IS and the WHAT-IS-NOT.
I find your conception of the gods to be quaint, Judeo-Christian and Aristotelian, and doesn’t suit people like me who want something more genuine and authentic.
In any case, this is why we don’t want to become gods. Admiration, respect, and awe, can certainly be done at arm’s length. Some mortals do become gods, but it is possibly one of the worst and most difficult and trying experience that a mortal could endure in life to transform into a god… It’s nothing any of us should wish for, though it happens to some people (like Hercules).
You say: “The Hellenistic gods are capricious, dim-witted, and vain.” (I’ll fix this to “Hellenic,” since we’re not talking about Macedonian/Balkan conquest, but the age of people who grew up on Homer, and so this was likely a typo on your part.)
I say: “The Hellenic gods may be capricious, dim-witted, and vain, but they are immortal. So it is better for these gods to be capricious, dim-witted, and vain (if anyone MUST be capricious, dim-witted, and vain), than for one of us mortals to be capricious, dim-witted, and vain. When the gods are capricious, dim-witted, and vain, it is exciting, interesting, lively and comedic. When a mortal is capricious, dim-witted, and vain, it often ends in tragedy, sadness, death. So, give the gods their due, and do not insult them or judge them for being capricious, dim-witted, and vain. Instead, learn from them. And simply admire and be in awe of the fact that they can endure the flaws that we mortals cannot.
It is just the same as wishing to be a fallen soldier. Don’t wish to be a fallen soldier; there is no glory in death. But one can admire and respect and be in awe of the fallen soldier’s sacrifice, without wishing oneself to be a fallen soldier. And so the fallen soldier can have his/her story told, and his/her soul can be made immortal by means of those that he/she saves. But the story is not told so that we may wish to become a fallen soldier or to glorify the fallen soldier. The story is told so that can continue to live among us and through us through memory, and so that we who are still alive may be humble and thankful for the fallen soldier’s sacrifice.”
24 October 2017 at 13:25
— once again, sorry for the many typos.
10 November 2018 at 14:42
You seem to use commas in a Germanic fashion.
10 November 2018 at 14:47
Yes, I love creating neologisms, and other “-isms”, by combining multiple words together until I have a word-that-is-as-long-as-a-phrase (it’s a “thing”). And I also use commas to create uber sentences — all in the germanic fashion, of course. Why, is that okay with you? Are you British and offended by my literary germanic-acity?
21 May 2020 at 15:09
Interesting article, though the line
“Socrates is the revenge for Thersites…the ugly plebeian Socrates killed the authority of the wonderful myth in Greece.”
by Nietzsche is not really aligned with your interpretation of the matter. To put it simple, Nietzsche was not happy about the authority of the wonderful myth in Greece being killed. He was neither a fan of Socrates nor a fan of Thersites.
There is also a line from the “praise of madness” by Erasmus about Thersites, ridiculing whoever is seeing him under a good light.
The point that you are missing is that Thersites wants to go home because he is tired and coward, and he felt his slice of the cake was not big enough. This is the origin his attack against the authority, and not the reasonable question “why are we doing this?”.
If Odysseus or another one who have distinguished themselves in the battlefield would have asked “why are we doing this?”, he may have stopped the war and sent everyone home. Though the reason why he did not asked the question “why are we doing this?” is crucial and it is called honor and duty. Honor and Duty in the Greek vision – and in any other culture that intend to last longer than decade – must come before reason.
The answer of Odysseus is not aimed at putting back Thersites to his place, as you are seeing it. If you read it you will see it is in the line of “it is rough and tough, but we are all together in this”, putting himself at the level of the “multitude” instead (the choice of wording “multitude” reveals some judgment from the translator’s side too. A more accurate “less valorous” would have changed the whole sense of the story).
The importance of this is that there are countless Thersite’s speech around today. Always and again driven by mean personal interest and cowardice of some half articulated individual, rather than grounded on critical judgment. Interestingly enough, today as yesterday, Thersites speech are from mouth of the ugly, the bitter and the resentful, never from the winners and the successful ones.
27 July 2021 at 16:48
I wonder what these people think about brexit, populism, or the global pandemic, I wonder if they side with the common rebellion against a rotten elite? I somehow doubt it.