The Odyssey: Hospitality Among the Ancient Greeks

The Odyssey: Hospitality Among the Ancient Greeks

by Armando Ortiz     

The Odyssey was written around three thousand years ago. It is believed that the author of the epic story was called Homer; he was the first to have written the oral story. The book is about the trials that Odysseus, a main character in the story experiences, goes through as he tries to go back home to Ithaca. After taking part in the great Trojan War, which lasted thirteen years, he begins the journey. On his trip home, the nymph Calypso takes him captive holding him captive on her for seven years. Eventually, he is set free, and given provisions to go back home. After a couple of skirmishes with other people and other gods, he finally lands on Ithaca. There he defeats the men who have been leeching of his estate, and finally reunites with his wife Penelope.

The epic tale contains many moral stories that can be used to teach a lesson or give an idea of what upright characters ought to have. An idea that is explored throughout the story is hospitality. In the Odyssey, hospitality is given to a person who is wandering through town or in need of help. The person is taken inside the house of the host, where he or she is fed until satisfied, then given a place where to sleep. When the person decides to leave, a gift is given to take along their trip, usually food was given upon departure. One might wonder why hospitality is given to strangers in need. According to the Odyssey, Zeus is among strangers. Zeus protects the weak, and makes it a duty for people to be hospitable to persons in need or else there will be consequences.

To understand Greek society we must understand the significance of the book. The Odyssey gives a glimpse and describes how Greek society might have been during the eighth century B.C..  Many books have influenced modern society, one of which being the Bible, yet one cannot claim that that book describes everything that we do, such as traditions once followed, but the moral stories or ideas it offers can give us a window from which to understand our society. The Odyssey serves this purpose also. In Greek times, the Odyssey was part of its oral traditions and literature, and was used to teach character and morals; festivals and traditions were held according to customs. It had a strong influence over society. In the Odyssey, hospitality is something very important, because the author directly associates the stranger, beggar, or visitor to the Greek god Zeus. For example, “this man is an unfortunate wanderer who has strayed here…we must look after him, since all strangers and beggars come under the protection of Zeus, and to such people a small gift can mean much,” (p.91). “…. For strangers and beggars all come in Zeus’ name,”  (p. 209). “Zeus, the Strangers’ god, whose wrath is aroused by deeds of cruelty (p. 215).” The Greeks had many gods, but the father of all the gods and mortals was Zeus. He is described as being the god of thunder, the host of host, and the god of strangers. Since Zeus protected strangers, it would not favor the person who mistreated a stranger, that is why it was important for a person to welcome a stranger into the house and treat him with hospitality. It was believed that Zeus would lead a stranger to a person’s house, “god has brought you to my door, my long suffering friend,” (p. 218).

Hospitality is described as offering your house to some stranger or person who is in need, usually they are fed, bathed before departing, and are given many gifts when the time comes to leave. When Odysseus was wandering a young lady saw him and said, “give him food and drink, girls, and bathe him in the river where there is shelter from the wind,” (p. 91). When Odysseus was disguised as a beggar, his servant, who did not know it was Odysseus, “invited him (Odysseus) to sit down on some brushwood that he piled up for him and covered with the shaggy skin of a wild goat, large and thick, which served as his own mattress,” (p. 208). In the story people tend to be hospitable out of reverence to Zeus. Being the host of host, Zeus would bring about disaster to any one who would not treat a guest generously.

When Telemechus is about to sail home, an escaped criminal comes up to him and asks him to give him refuge. Telemechus answered, “I shall certainly not bar you from my good ship, if you wish to sail with us, come along then; and in Ithaca you shall be welcomed to such hospitality as we can offer,” (p.231). Others took pleasure in being hospitable to their guests. Alcinous, king of the Phaeacians, went as far as to sacrifice a dozen sheep, eight white-tusked boars, and two shambling oxen, so that Odysseus could eat. The King put on a show for Odysseus, he let him see some sport competitions. The king also gave him bronze gifts, provisions, wine, bread and clothes, he also ordered Odysseus’ ship to be polished. “When they had come down to the ship and the sea, the young nobles who were to escort him took charge of his baggage, including all of the food and drink, and stowed it in the polished ship,” (p.195).

Other times people were treated badly, but in the book there are punishments waiting for those who mistreat others. For example, the way Polyphemus treats Odysseus and his crew, when they land on his island. Polyphemus, a Cyclops, does the opposite of being hospitable. Instead of feeding them and letting them stay for a couple of days, he eats some of the crewmen. Odysseus tells Polyphemus, “He (Zeus) is the god of guests: guests are sacred to him, and he goes alongside them,” (p. 132). Cyclops did not realize what was about to happen to him. Zeus punishes him for mistreating Odysseus and his crew, and makes Odysseus gauge his eye with a stake, leaving him blind. The book, after careful analysis, makes you realize that being hospitable to your guest is very important. The same happens to the Suitors.

The Suitors have been in the home of Odysseus for sometime, eating and courting his wife Penelope. When Odysseus finally arrives on Ithaca, he disguises himself as a beggar, and goes home. He spots the Suitors and begins to beg for food. Instead of feeding him and offering a place to stay, the Suitors begin to mock and throw things at him. Hospitality is important, not because the stranger demands it, but because Zeus is protecting him and expects it. Zeus punishes the Suitors for not being hospitable, and Odysseus slaughters the Suitors. The old saying is correct, do not bite the hand that feeds you. The Suitors had been eating food that was not theirs, and despite that they were unwilling to share it with the owner.

This is how Greek society might have been during the time of Homer. Hospitality is something that is essential to our daily lives, as it was back three thousand years ago. When we see homeless people in the street today and do not care to think of their situation; begging in corners, and on the streets. Many people shun them because they ask for money. The Bible teaches that when we help someone in need, we are not helping the person but helping Christ. It also says, “ anyone, then, who knows the good he ought to do and doesn’t do it, sins.” Hospitality is something that is morally correct but is not practiced by many. People claim that homeless people are lazy, criminals, and drug addicts, yet they have never talked to a homeless person. Some homeless cannot work because they are mentally ill, and others who have had traumatizing experiences in their lives. One day I met a man, who had graduated from Cal State San Bernardino with a bachelors in history back in the 1960s, but was drafted into the army and sent to fight in Vietnam. Another time I met another person who had come from West Virginia to work in construction, but life took a turn for the worse. These two people have had tough life experiences that have disabled them from being capable of living a normal life. It is true that there are those who are lazy, but it is better to give than to receive.

The Odyssey has good insights, as to how Greeks viewed and practiced hospitality, they knew it was important and I think that is why they associated Zeus with the needy and strange. It is no wonder that in the Odyssey there are many different examples of hospitality. It is so that the listener and eventually the reader could somehow see that ultimately we are in debt to the creator of this world, and a small way of repaying him is through helping those in need. Much is given, much is expected.

William S. Burroughs' Ah Pook Is Here

William S. Burroughs' Ah Pook Is Here

by Armando Ortiz

This short film came to life via the collaboration of William S. Burroughs' recording of Ah Pook Is Here, which he wrote, and artist Philip Hunt, who made the book come alive with this short film. William S. Burroughs (February 1914-August 1997) is considered one of the great writers of the 20th century and one of the main creative forces behind the Beat Generation.

This is a fascinating critique of power and its uses. Burroughs uses Mayan gods as examples/representatives of contemporary symbols of war and destruction, without changing what pre-Hispanic societies believed these symbols to be. Rarely does one get the opportunity to find literature that includes Meso-American or Native American cosmology/myth in contemporary American culture discourse. I define American culture as being the collective cultures of North, Central and South American societies, which is like a multi-colored quilt of varying patterns and designs.This collective culture includes the cultures that existed in the Americas before its "discovery", and yes, this would include the Norsemen of Newfoundland, and all the European groups, along with African groups, as well Middle Eastern, and Asian groups that settled the Americas. The collective experiences shared by those born in these lands are closely linked with weather, geography and environment. Therefore to not look at what former societies perceived to be good and bad or what their beliefs were in these lands, is like ignoring the fact that water comes from our local mountains. It is essential to always be looking for ways to look at our contemporary life from different perspectives via History, Anthropology and Philosophy. Burroughs does a fantastic job at combining all those elements into his short writing. Never forget that the roads we walk on or drive on were walked on by others thousands of years ago. Enjoy.

Juan Rulfo’s World of Fiction

Juan Rulfo's World of Fiction

by Armando Ortiz

I thought I knew about Latin American writers. I’ve read Borges, Garcia Marquez, Neruda, and Paz. Of course I am also sort of familiar with some Central American writers like, Asturias, and Dalton. In reality though, my knowledge of Latin American writers is limited. So when the opportunity arose to read a Roberto Bolano book I thought it would be a good thing to do. He was from Chile and I‘d never read a novel from a Chilean author. Reading his material it became evident of how ignorant I am to the world of Latin American literature of which I have yet to seriously explore.

Juan Rulfo (1917-1986)

I have only read a small fraction of the works that exist in this world and have yet to read Joyce, Dante, Shelley and Shakespeare. After finishing 2666, I decided look up information on Rulfo. I got the chance to speak to an acquaintance, Arnoldo, who is very familiar with Latin American writers. It was through him that I discovered Marquez and aside from literature he also reads lots of science related material. In our discussion regarding Rulfo he told me that there was one particular character found in Rulfo’s book of short stories, El Llano En Llamas, that stood out, Lucas Lucatero. I was intrigued and wanted to know more about this writer whom I’d never heard of or read. According to Arnoldo, reading his stories gave one the feeling of walking on dusty roads.

Rulfo stands amongst the great short story writers of all time. He will be read for many years to come, and hopefully more people will come to discover his stories. What I found particularly appealing about Rulfo’s writing was the manner in which he describes the life of poor peasants.

Mexican Revolution (1910-1920)

The poor, without taking into account the social and economic forces behind poverty, are his main focus. Yes, the stories take place after a time period of great violence; The Mexican Revolution (1910-1920) and the Cristero Wars (1926-1929), but poverty is the environment from where his stories emerge, and poverty has existed in societies for hundreds of years. For Rulfo, the violence he describes are not bad dreams or an unknown realm, but are recent experiences deeply personal and intimate. Violence, was and still is very common in Latin America, even now as we speak violence is happening. One thing to remember though, violence is relative and can happen anywhere. However, there are parts of the world where lawlessness exists, but it seems that the proclivity for violence by people is higher in places where access to fire weapons is readily available, which is a chronic reality in Mexico and Central America, and where lawlessness and corruption permeate society.

Cristero Rebels (1926-1929)

Juan Rulfo was an author that wrote one collection of short stories, El Llano En Llamas (The Burning Plain and other short stories) and one short novel, Pedro Paramo. His whole written canon is made up of two books. There is another book that was made, but that’s a collection of photographs that he took throughout Mexico. He was born in Jalisco, Mexico and for a number of years was raised by nuns in an orphanage located Guadalajara, the province’s capital city. Despite these misfortunes Rulfo managed to study accounting and went on to be a successful author and salesman. He received a prize that enabled him to dedicate some time to writing.

After publishing his only novel output ceased and he embarked on a journey with photography. Reading his works one easily gets lost in the web that is woven by his prose which becomes magical inside the minds of readers. His descriptions and emotions blend to become enigmatic of what word play should be and are a template for good writing.

In Juan Rulfo’s world people are always coming and going. Going to places unknown and never seen before, while others are coming from locations with strange names and sites where prayers go unheard. Characters are always passing through towns where the inhabitants seem more like wandering spirits in purgatory than real people with real concerns. In his stories people have condemned themselves or have earned the condemnation of others. Though not spoken, each character’s perception, hand gestures, physical movements and journeys to certain places indicate their destiny. Fate in a sense has become an individual’s collective decision and collective future. Bandits are shot at night in the middle of a robbery. Murders are swept away in torrential rains or are relegated to haunt towns forever.



Choices that were made at a time of heated passion, anger and depression become part of the condemnation. Death becomes imbued with sentimentality and regret. Revenge almost completes the cycle of justice but the circle is never really closed, leaving the door open to more misfortune. Incest brings about hidden desires and outward shows of affection towards the dead through hollow rituals.

Rulfo’s world takes place in a time of unrelenting violence, rape and pillage. The poor travel by foot or donkey, while the rich gallop around in horses. In the scenarios he creates, ghosts are condemned to carry fire wood on their backs on a path that leads to no where- forever. Horse riders become the embodiment of the pale horse rider found in the Book of Revelation, and are not given the sacred sacraments from the priests to enter heaven. Salvation is inches away but never acquired. No one is immune to the sins of humanity, and to the consequences of violence. Heaven has become a mirage that exists only in delirious dreams.

Life, in his imagination, takes place in small towns where rivers are streams of water that feed the wild weeds. There is hardly any water that’s drinkable, irrigating the cornfields is a precarious endeavor, and the fruit that is harvested isn’t sweet. Bitter, is the taste life. When the rains come, which are downpours, streams transform into rivers capable of taking small adobe homes down canyons and arroyos, and the possessions of poverty stricken families; a cow, a pair of pigs and occasionally a relative; are washed away. Life is harsh, but nature seems to be the cruelest of them all.

The sun hangs, like an old clothes iron that one fills with hot coals, over the heads of everyone. When it rains it pours and when it pours the tears of his characters’ eyes flow as fast as the savage rivers. The sky is blue, and lifeless. Even in the oppressive heat the sky remains cold and silent. The winds walk down corridors like lost children at the mall, wailing for something. Waking life becomes an itch that has no origins and no cure for it can be found. Sleep becomes torturous, because the weather is uncomfortable and secrets can’t get lost in the darkness. Night quickly disappears and the rising sun quickly wakes everyone one up from their slumber. Superstition becomes an outlet for hope where there is none. Saints bleed tears of remorse, because no god exists within the lines of Rulfo’s stories. With the unrelenting heat of the dangling sun and the trampling of dirt roads, dust rises. The floating sand particles enter through the mouth and nostrils of the characters making breathing, even for the reader, difficult. Life is tough.



His world revolves around violence. Exploitation is a byword for the impunity by which people live bye. Killers that escape are condemned by their own crimes and their sleep becomes one where ghost talk and victims scream at night. Violence becomes the accepted norm, blood the sacred liquid that is supposed to cleanse, just gets coagulated with dust, dirt and sweat infecting the body. The sick are relegated to sweat it out in their own mental sweat lodge, and cling on to the hope of going to the bigger town to pray to the holier relic. Virgin statuettes shed tears that are artificially placed on its eyes by priests in the morning. Idol’s hands spread like branches accepting all, listening to the incoherent cries of believers. Carved dolls cannot see mourners because of the thick incense smoke and their own wooden eyes are blind to injustice. Rulfo, in essence walks the reader through the Valley of Death and tells them that the journey never ends because even after death spirits wander in his stories in their own hell. Infinity is not something worth talking about or worth discussing because the present moment is too bleak and death so certain. Its just a matter of time before we once again wake up and have to deal with the realities of life.

Despite the suffering that many of his characters live through, every one of them wishes to keep on living. Suffering, everyone goes through it, everyone in life carries a cross, and complains about the vicissitudes of life, but when the times comes to confront death everyone tries to run away. Like Antonius Block, the Crusader in Bergman’s The Seventh Seal, they try play chess against death and make excuses to prolong the game. Wishing to hold on to life a bit longer, the sweetness of sautéed onions with garlic and olive becomes delectable to them. Morning toil becomes dawn’s morning glory. The gun to their temple makes his characters kneel down and beg for life. Any how, this existence is rough but also bearable.

In a way we see the complexity of life through Rulfo’s writing. He reveals that humans have physical desires ranging from sexual to the unknown desire to steal. Along with other needs like love, nurture, hunger and compassion. In his writing humans also have a spirit. Spirits that at times depend on the blessings of priests, blessings that money can and cannot buy. Individuals that have to be forgiven but are not, and people that want to be forgiven for crimes committed. Everyone at some point wants to be forgiven for something. Remorse, even in death, is what many spirits continue to carry.

All images were taken by J. Rulfo except for his portrait and two that have captions.

Growing up in Los Angeles (Part Three): Stained Glass Windows

Part 3: Stained Glass Windows

By Armando Ortiz

One never really thinks of the events that are happening before one’s eyes. It's as if one is performing on the world stage, yet not conscious. We only become aware of the fact after several years have passed. This was the case for Pedro, who even after 20 years of having seen the events that are about to be described never gave it much thought, but dispensed of the memories like any other event. He was at the Getty museum visiting for the first time and was impressed at the amount of religious artifacts that were on exhibit. Upon entering the hall that contained Medieval art brought back a flood of memories that surprised him to say the least. At least that is how it seemed, but maybe these past events in conjunction with a series of religious symbols had a stronger and more profound effect on his unconscious.

When Pedro was a kid his dad volunteered the family to work in the restoration of an old church building that had been recently purchased by the congregation of which they were members. Being the son of a carpenter meant that he would be doing some painting, some cleaning and some looking around. There were many rooms on the second floor of the church, and every room had one or two stained glass windows that could be slightly opened. One could look down the side of the building from these windows, and see the bricks that made up the outer wall of the church. To the north of the building was an alley, and to the south was the main entrance. There were two entrances actually, one to the west and the other to the east, nevertheless they all faced south.

Stained glass windows, he’d never seen stained glass windows up close, and when he saw pieces of it on the ground thought that if improperly picked up the pieces would cut his fingers. He soon discovered that the crimson pieces that were found on the floor were made of plastic and not glass. The pieces being part of the church obviously carried an aura of sacredness, but even these pieces had to be thrown away. Most of the colors were like that hard candy that we love to eat as little kids. Jolly Ranchers are solid candies, made up of primary colors that taste sour, sweet, and tangy. Except that the stained glass was just plastic, that’s all it was. But looking at the windows he felt like he was actually seeing a mosaic of hard candy colors made to fit a puzzle. This puzzle was placed on an opening of a wall, filtering the outside light that entered the inside of the sanctuary. There was something about that observation that made him think that stained glass windows were as sacred as a cross. The alley had many pieces of this stained glass and for some reason most of it was raspberry red. All over the edge of the wall that faced the alley the ground was littered with raspberry red plastic.

Occasionally some boys showed up on the side of the church that faced the alley. They would meet up in the afternoons and just hang out and write on the walls with spray paint. Breaking open the empty paint cans used for their graffiti they would inhale whatever fumes were inside and get high. Sometimes they’d be seen drinking old Schlitz 40oz bottles, and after emptying them of beer would start throwing them on the ground. It was suspected that they’d broken the windows of the basement, but it was only a guess and no one ever confronted them, and besides the building had been empty when it was purchased.

In the alley where the kids congregated was an old burned out car that was all tagged up. It seemed like the car had been there forever. It was incinerated, lacking windows, and doors. Only the metal skeleton of the car revealed that it had once been driven and abandoned there. The seats of the unknown car had been pulled out and placed by the wall, and some of the leaders would sit on them and get plastered. The kids would smoke whatever they smoked and ride around the alley on their bikes. The alley was their secret get away where they could get intoxicated and hang out. It must have been their escape from the reality of the outside world. Amongst the ruins of a post apocalyptic scene they found an embryonic solace that most likely was not available at home. Yet this solace was found next to a church, which they probably assumed was not being used.