by Amelia Kiessling
In Jean-Jacques Rousseau’s A Discourse on Inequality, a key theme that Rousseau explores is the relation between inequality in civil society and the reality of people living for and through the gaze of others. Rousseau suggests that this reality is a major force behind the inequality within society, acting as one of the chains that people unknowingly “[run] towards” (122). Though Rousseau published the text in 1755, over a thousand years after Homer’s Odyssey was likely composed, there are notable examples of Rousseau’s ideas already in play within the characters and events of The Odyssey, suggesting that these ideas have truth and validity, perhaps even extending back to the age of Ancient Greece. If we observe in particular the character of Odysseus in comparison with a few key passages from A Discourse on Inequality, along with supporting evidence from Frederick Neuhouser’s Rousseau’s Theodicy of Self-Love: Evil, Rationality, and the Drive for Recognition and George E. Dimock’s “The Name of Odysseus,” the resemblance between Rousseau’s position and Odysseus’s nature is striking.
Odysseus is at once a cunning, powerful warrior and a highly egotistical man. Throughout The Odyssey, as Odysseus ventures back home to the island of Ithaca after the Trojan War over the course of many years, he continually finds himself stranded and in life-and-death situations. This is certainly not by chance. Odysseus is a character obsessed with glory and how the world perceives him, constantly looking for new, dangerous opportunities to gain renown. He is focused on and driven by the gaze of others to a fault, harming himself and those around him in the process. Like Rousseau suggests about the people living in what he deems civil society, Odysseus “knows how to live only in the opinion of others” (136). In order to further analyze the similarities between Rousseau’s ideas and Odysseus’ character, let us closely examine each passage and its evidence in Homer’s Odyssey.
Before civil man begins to live through the gaze of others, Rousseau writes that first comes the establishment of property through the cultivation and division of the land. It is after this that talents come to be prized, as “the stronger did more productive work, the more adroit did better work, [and] the more ingenious devised ways of abridging his labour” (Rousseau 118). This is where Rousseau believes that people then begin to live for the gaze of others, as personal strengths and skills become very important and, as a result, people have to find a way to demonstrate said qualities, whether real or false. After this, Rousseau continues,
…it is easy to imagine the rest. I shall not pause to describe the successive invention of the other arts, the progress of language, the testing and employment of talents, the inequality of fortunes, the use and abuse of riches, and all the details which follow from this… (118)
This brings us to Odysseus’ time, where social ranks and certain forms of laws and government have been established, even if in somewhat rudimentary form. Moreover, individual qualities and strengths are highly valued, and the way one appears to others is necessary to maintain or improve one’s status and public image. It is of this early stage of civil society that Rousseau writes:
Behold all the natural qualities called into action, the rank and destiny of each man established, not only as to the quantity of his possessions and his power to serve or to injure, but as to intelligence, beauty, strength, skill, merit or talents; and since these qualities were the only ones that could attract consideration it soon became necessary either to have them or to feign them. It was necessary in one’s own interest to seem to be other than one was in reality. Being and appearance became two entirely different things, and from this distinction arose insolent ostentation, deceitful cunning, and all the vices that follow in their train. (118-119)
Odysseus is remarkably resemblant of this description, firstly through his role as king. A king with power over all of Ithaca, as well as a warrior who has commanded an entire army, Odysseus is among those of high rank. This power is determined through many different things, such as his wealth, or “quantity of … possessions” (Rousseau 119), as well as his might, or “power to serve or to injure” (Rousseau 119). But, moreover, his ranking is also solidified by his “intelligence, beauty, strength, skill, merit [and] talents” (119), as Rousseau lists in the passage above. Odysseus is famed for his deceitful wiles and his strength in battle, with which he helped win the Battle of Troy; he also uses both in The Odyssey itself, notably employing the former as a strategic method regularly throughout the epic, and it is these qualities and his prior achievement in Troy that make up and uphold his legacy. This legacy is perhaps equally as important to his societal rank as his title as king is, as it is through this that Odysseus “attract[s] consideration” (Rousseau 119), such as can be measured in the hospitality he receives from the Phaeacians, for example—and as opposed to the lack of hospitality he later receives from the suitors awaiting in Ithaca. However, this reality manifests as a dangerous flaw for Odysseus, as he continually seeks out danger, looking for new feats to add further renown to his name. He does not seem to be able to do without them, placing his own sense of self-esteem, or Rousseau’s amour-propre, in the praise and attention he gains from other people.
However, according to Frederick Neuhouser’s Rousseau’s Theodicy of Self-Love: Evil, Rationality, and the Drive for Recognition, “the immediate and primary end that amour-propre seeks is not self-esteem” (34), but “esteem (or recognition) in the eyes of others” (34). He continues,
This is not to say that self-esteem is not an important good, nor that those who have amour-propre do not desire it. Rousseau’s point, rather, is that beings who possess amour-propre care about the good opinion of others directly and for its own sake, independently of its role in producing or reinforcing self-esteem. (Neuhouser 34)
According to Neuhouser’s explanation, amour-propre is not searching for self-esteem, but rather for recognition, and furthermore what that recognition itself can bring. The search for self-esteem and recognition may go hand in hand, but what is distinctive about amour-propre is that it seeks the appreciation of others independently of the search for external reinforcements of self-esteem: the recognition of others has inherent value, due to what benefits it may bring, outside of whatever boosts it may provide to one’s self-esteem. Thus, Odysseus may not necessarily be placing his sense of self-esteem in the opinions of others, but, at the very least, he is actively pursuing others’ recognition and acclaim.
Odysseus is also quite representative of the rest of Rousseau’s above description, or in particular the idea of “being and appearance [becoming] two entirely different things” (Rousseau 119). Many times throughout The Odyssey, Odysseus chooses to “seem to be other than [he] is in reality” (Rousseau 119) as a method of gaining an advantage in the situations he encounters. He regularly adopts the identity of ‘nobody,’ using his characteristic “deceitful cunning” (Rousseau 119) to trick those around him—first as a method of self-preservation, but also allowing him to later reveal his true identity and gain the powerful recognition from others that he so desires.
This idea of Odysseus taking on the role of ‘nobody’ can be observed in his encounter with the Cyclops, Polyphemus. When Polyphemus discovers Odysseus and his crew have broken into his cave, he does not take up the role of hospitable host that the men hope for. Rather, he violently rips apart and eats some of the crew, leaving the rest terror-stricken and hoping desperately for a chance to escape. Odysseus quickly comes up with a plan to incapacitate Polyphemus, first by making him drunk and then by blinding him by stabbing him through his singular eye. As Odysseus coaxes the Cyclops to drink the wine, Polyphemus demands that he reveal his name. Rather than answering honestly, Odysseus responds, “Nobody— that’s my name. Nobody— / so my mother and father call me, all my friends” (Homer 9.410-411). This is a cunning move, as later, once Odysseus has blinded Polyphemus, he cries out for help, only to tell his friends that he has been attacked by ‘nobody’: “Nobody’s killing me now by fraud and not by force!” (Homer 9.454-455). Believing that Polyphemus is alone and suffering from a plague sent by Zeus, from which “there’s no escape” (Homer 9.459), his friends do not come to his aid. In this situation, it truly is vital to Odysseus’ “own interest to seem to be other than [he] is in reality” (Rousseau 119), as it means the difference between life and death. Though the distinction between being and appearance is not portrayed in such life-and-death terms in the Discourse on Inequality, nonetheless, as Rousseau suggests, it is from this distinction that “deceitful cunning” (119) comes about, as is evident in this situation where Odysseus uses it to his advantage.
In fact, Odysseus uses this strategy more than once. He similarly takes up the identity of ‘nobody’ on the island of Phaeacia. When he first arrives, he is freshly shipwrecked, bedraggled, and fully naked. Not only is he a nobody in the sense that he is a foreigner and a stranger, but he is also a nobody because he is naked: he is in his most natural physical form, without clothing to provide any preconception about his character or his rank (although, of course, he also appears unkempt). Thus, when Nausicaa discovers him, her moral character as host is tested, considering the societal expectations present in ancient Greek society, though inactive in Rousseau’s modern civil society. Heeding these expectations, Nausicaa provides Odysseus with clothing, and Athena then transforms his appearance from disheveled to glorious, but Odysseus maintains his identity as a stranger, leaving his name undisclosed. This tactic again acts as a precaution, allowing Odysseus to discern the character of the Phaeacians before taking the risk of revealing his true identity.
But this strategy that Odysseus employs not only helps him survive: it gives him the opportunity to then have a grand reveal of his true identity. After Odysseus and his crew make a narrow escape from the Cyclops’ island on their ship, Odysseus cannot help but yell after Polyphemus and reveal his identity, despite now being free:
Cyclops— / if any man on the face of the earth should ask you / who blinded you, shamed you so— say Odysseus, / raider of cities, he gouged out your eye, / Laertes’ son who makes his home in Ithaca! (Homer 9.558-562)
Odysseus’ desire for attention takes over, and he tells Polyphemus his name in order to shame him further while bringing glory to himself. But, along with this reward of glory, this act is almost rewarded with a guest gift: another benefit that comes with consideration, as referred to earlier with the Phaeacians. As Polyphemus hears Odysseus’ declaration, he realizes that this event, in which he has been blinded, was prophesied many years ago. Polyphemus then seems to switch his intentions: first being keen on destroying Odysseus and his men, he now seems to come to terms with the offense, in fact appearing to welcome Odysseus as he calls him back to give him a “guest-gift” (Homer 9.575), and to “urge Poseidon the earthquake god to speed [him] home” (Homer 9.576). Odysseus’ reputation, which Polyphemus is aware of through the prophecy, changes his view and treatment of Odysseus. While Odysseus was previously a nobody to him, he now instead counts as somebody, and thus Polyphemus changes his behaviour.
According to George E. Dimock’s “The Name of Odysseus,” “[t]his cry of defiance [the revealing of his name] is thought to be foolish of the wily Odysseus, no less by his crew than by the critics, but it is in reality, like the boar hunt, a case of deliberate self-exposure for the purpose of being somebody rather than nobody” (55–6). Odysseus’ choice to reveal his identity to Polyphemus may seem rash or unwise, but it is an intentional act to transform from ‘nobody’ into somebody, and it is, in fact, rewarded by the Cyclops. Along a very similar line, Neuhouser writes the following in an analysis of Rousseau’s amour-propre:
For now it is sufficient to note that to ‘be someone’ — the ultimate aim of amour-propre— is, in part, to ‘count as someone’ for other subjects … What a being with amour-propre seeks, then, is not only, or primarily, a mere sentiment but a confirmation of its being as a self, which, more than just a feeling, is a public object in the sense that it is partially constituted by what others think of it. (36)
If Odysseus did not declare his name, he would forever be ‘nobody’ to Polyphemus, thus lacking the “confirmation of [his] being as a self” (Neuhouser 36), and thus not being offered a guest gift from Polyphemus. Therefore, by boldly proclaiming his name, he claims the conquest of Polyphemus as his own, tying it to his identity and his legacy, and gaining his longed-for recognition.
However, it is after this that Odysseus calls aloud again to reject Polyphemus. Rather than returning to shore to accept his guest gift, he verbally batters him and incites him to throw yet another boulder after the ship. With this in mind, Odysseus is also representative of Rousseau’s ideas in yet another way. More than revealing his name as a method of acquiring renown, this choice, along with his choice to further taunt Polyphemus afterwards, can also be seen as a tactic of making up for the pride he lost when Polyphemus ate some of his crewmates. By first getting revenge on Polyphemus and then by showing him to whom he lost, Odysseus is able to regain this lost pride. Just as Rousseau describes the development of man upon “[learning] to value one another” (Rousseau 114) and understanding the idea of consideration of one another,
…henceforth every intentional wrong became an outrage, because together with the hurt which might result from the injury, the offended party saw an insult to his person which was often more unbearable than the hurt itself. (Rousseau 114)
The injury that Odysseus feels towards his pride inspires him to not only take revenge on the Cyclops, but to take said revenge one step too far, taunting and rejecting Polyphemus even after he offers to make amends. In consequence, Polyphemus launches two enormous boulders after his ship, one before Odysseus’ taunting and another after. More significantly, by blinding Polyphemus, Odysseus incites the wrath of Poseidon, who significantly extends Odysseus’s journey home with additional hardships. Here, Odysseus’ character is evidently quite like Rousseau’s characterization of the emergent civil man.
But Odysseus is also interestingly like Rousseau’s depiction of civil man even through the meaning of his name. In Dimock’s comments quoted above regarding Odysseus’ proclamation of his name to Polyphemus, he briefly refers to the “boar hunt” (56) in Book 19. This boar hunt is an event from Odysseus’ past, in which he had participated with his grandfather, Autolycus, and for the first time lived up to his name (Dimock 55). Odysseus is translated as meaning “Son of Pain” (Homer 19.464) in Robert Fagles’ translation of The Odyssey, though Dimock explores other translations in his essay, “The Name of Odysseus.” But in both Fagles’ translation and the translations that Dimock discusses, pain is a central idea: it is in this boar hunt that Odysseus gains his first victory, courageously charging at and killing the boar, but also gains his first experience with pain, as he is left with a scar after the boar stabs him in the leg. Thus, Odysseus earns his name as both a “causer of pain” (Dimock 55) and a “sufferer” (Dimock 55). Moreover, he is celebrated by his family, making his first time receiving major acclamation from others linked to his first major experience of pain. Relating this to the idea of recognition that is so important to Odysseus, Dimock states:
To be Odysseus, then, is to adopt the attitude of the hunter of dangerous game: to deliberately expose one’s self, but thereafter to take every advantage that the exposed position admits; the immediate purpose is injury, but the ultimate purpose is recognition and the sense of a great exploit. (55)
As Dimock reveals, recognition is closely tied to Odysseus’ identity through its tie with his name. Thus, with the pursuit of recognition being so important not only to Odysseus’ character but to his name and identity, Rousseau’s amour-propre is distinctly relevant. Odysseus’ very identity exists in amour-propre, in seeking the praise and approval of others. Moreover, the meaning of Odysseus’ name, and therefore the expectation that comes along with it, could, in its own right, be seen by Rousseau as an invention of society that restricts social man. Hence, Odysseus truly “derives the sense of his own existence” (Rousseau 136) from the judgements of others, as his identity practically revolves around them.
The relevance of Odysseus’ character to Rousseau’s description of “social man” (136) can also be observed through his behaviour while on the island of Phaeacia in Book 8. After Odysseus has arrived and has been helped by Nausicaa, the Phaeacians warmly welcome him and host a series of contests as a show of skill in his honour. Odysseus simply watches at first, until he is taunted by Prince Laodamas and the champion Broadsea to participate. Thus incited, Odysseus reveals his unmatched strength and dexterity in discus. As a warrior and veteran, he is insulted by Broadsea’s mocking words and the provocation to partake in the challenge, trivial and nugatory compared to the feats he has performed. As he takes up the challenge, he picks a discus that is “huge and heavy, more weighty by far than those the Phaeacians used to hurl and test each other” (8.217-218). Like the feat he later performs of stringing his bow, this is a challenge that no other can take up. Thus, Odysseus severely outperforms the other competitors, who are unable to wield such a discus, then boasts of his skills. This is not simply out of a naturally competitive nature, if we look through the lens of Rousseau’s ideas. Rousseau states,
I would observe to what extent this universal desire for reputation, honours and promotion, which devours us all, exercises and compares talents and strengths; I would show how it excites and multiplies passions, and how, in turning all men into competitors, rivals or rather enemies, it causes every day failures and successes and catastrophes of every sort by making so many contenders run the same course… (132–3)
From this perspective, Odysseus’ competitiveness stems from a societal desire for honour, praise, and respect. This desire leads people to compare themselves to one another, “[exciting] and [multiplying] passions” (Rousseau 133), which in Rousseau’s account ultimately ends in disaster. In this situation, though Odysseus’ showing off leads to some tension with the king and people of Phaeacia, it does not have outright disastrous consequences—at least, for him.
We can also observe Rousseau’s discussion of social man as “[living] only in the opinion of others” (136) in Odysseus’ storytelling, notably in the palace at Phaeacia. It is when Odysseus begins to tell his story, on the prompting of King Alcinous, that he finally reveals his name. He says, “I am Odysseus, son of Laertes, known to the world / for every kind of craft— my fame has reached the skies” (Homer 9.21-22). Odysseus cannot tell his story without telling his name, as he links his storytelling to his identity; he must have others know who he is and what he has accomplished, as these accomplishments would mean nothing to him if there was no one to know that they had happened and that the credit belongs to him. This is not unlike the encounter with Polyphemus: like Odysseus reveals his name only after defeating the Cyclops, here he reveals his name only after he defeats all the other competitors in the discus challenge. His name is tied first to pain, both inflicting and experiencing it, and then to recognition for this pain.
Rousseau states that, ultimately, social or civil man “[attaching] importance to the gaze of the rest of the world” (136) is the cause of the many troubles that are faced in society, as people pile these troubles on themselves in pursuit of honour and success. Rousseau writes:
Civil man, on the contrary, being always active, sweating and restless, torments himself endlessly in search of ever more laborious occupations; he works himself to death, he even runs towards the grave to put himself into shape to live, or renounces life in order to acquire immortality. (136)
This is evident throughout almost the entire story of The Odyssey, in which Odysseus continually finds himself in, or propels himself into, dangerous and life-threatening situations. Though he claims he wants to return home, he repeatedly puts himself in difficult circumstances just to gain renown, “[renouncing] life in order to acquire immortality” (Rousseau 136) of name and legacy. The many challenges Odysseus faces, such as multiple shipwrecks and inconveniences in consequence of inciting Poseidon’s wrath, are a result of his own rash and selfish decisions made with the gaze of others at the centre of his mind. Odysseus puts these challenges upon himself out of his obsession to appear powerful, heroic, and honourable, regardless of the cost—even if that cost is pain, suffering, and risk of death to both himself and others, hence displaying a self-love fully at the service of amour-propre.
There is one exception to this passage, however: Odysseus’ time on Calypso’s island in Book 5. Stranded on the island of Ogygia, far away from Ithaca, Odysseus is miserable, ostensibly longing for his family and his home. Calypso will not let him go, desiring to have him as her lover and even offering him immortality to entice him. Nonetheless, Odysseus resists and remains trapped on Calypso’s island paradise. Though it truly is a paradise, Odysseus suffers severely, despite having no “laborious occupations” (Rousseau 136) to seek. Moreover, rather than “[renounce] life in order to acquire immortality” (Rousseau 136), Odysseus does the exact opposite. When offered true, literal immortality, he rejects it. For, as put by Dimock, “[t]hough [Calypso] offer[s] immortality, not death— an immortality of security and satisfaction in a charming cave—it is still an immortality of oblivion, of no kleos [recognition], of nonentity” (Dimock 58). Eternity with Calypso would mean giving up his legacy and any future recognition he might gain, or rather regain (after losing much of his hard-earned riches and pride from Troy), and it is for this reason that he suffers. Odysseus suffers from a lack of suffering, as his identity is so closely related to his experience of pain, and his experience of pain is so closely tied to the recognition he receives from others. Eternity with Calypso would mean that Odysseus would truly become ‘nobody,’ and that would contradict his entire character and identity that is so based in the gaze of others, whether that be the gaze of other human beings, or the gaze of the gods: as Athena says, “my heart breaks for Odysseus, that seasoned veteran cursed by fate so long” (Homer 1.57-58).
Jean-Jacques Rousseau’s suggestion that “social man lives always outside himself” (136) is very much supported by the character of Odysseus in The Odyssey. His identity can many times be observed to be based in Rousseau’s amour-propre, not only in his actions but even in the meaning of his name. There are many instances in which Odysseus demonstrates a desire for the awe and approval of others, even though this desire brings him hardships and grief. Reflecting on Rousseau’s ideas and their evidence in The Odyssey, readers can be inspired to bring such perspective to their own lives, and how they themselves may be living through the gaze of others, and at what benefit or cost.
Bibliography
Blumberg, Naomi. “Odyssey.” Encyclopedia Britannica, 9 Sept. 2024, www.britannica.com/topic/Odyssey-epic-by-Homer. Accessed 1 Dec. 2024.
Dimock, George E. “The Name of Odysseus.” The Hudson Review, vol. 9, no. 1, Spring 1956, pp. 52-70, ProQuest, www.proquest.com/magazines/name-odysseus/docview/1296489374/se-2.
Homer. The Odyssey. Translated by Robert Fagles, Penguin, 1997.
Neuhouser, Frederick. Rousseau’s Theodicy of Self-Love: Evil, Rationality, and the Drive for Recognition. Oxford UP, 2008.
Rousseau, Jean-Jacques. A Discourse on Inequality. Penguin, 1984.