Odysseus Visits the Smithsonian

t seems that everyone is talking about two things these days: The Odyssey (or, to be more strictly accurate, The Odyssey as reimagined by Christopher Nolan) and the Smithsonian Institution, specifically the National Museum of American History (NMAH), one of the roughly 20 museums that huddle under the taxpayer-funded umbrella of the Smithsonian.

I have not seen the film version of Homer’s epic. But I feel confident in reporting that, for sheer entertainment, the televised cross-examination of NMAH’s longtime director, Anthea Hartig, easily beat out the cinematic version of The Odyssey. How can I say this, not having seen Matt Damon emoting around in his beard and shiny armor? Well, Sydney Smith (1771–1845) said that he never read a book before reviewing it because he found that the exercise prejudiced him. So it is with me. I shall endeavor to escape prejudice, bias, both intentional and the other kind, as well as parti pris altogether, by boldly commenting on some aspects of the Nolanized version of the story without having seen it. And seeing it is work, dear reader. A look at the screening schedule tells me that it runs nearly three hours, 172–173 minutes by the clock, though no one has been able to tell me why, in this homogenizing age of atomic clocks, we can’t get a more precise reckoning of the time.

By all accounts, Nolan’s Odysseus, unlike Odysseus in Homer’s telling, is a troubled, guilt-ridden specimen, forever agonizing over his aggressive behavior and mistreatment of others. He has, not to put too fine a point on it, anger issues, unlike Homer’s Odysseus, who experienced anger but no anger issues. In Homer’s version, Odysseus is a hero. He is clever, yes, both cunning (“πολύμητις”)  and complicated (“πολύτροπος”). But even more often than Achilles, Odysseus is described as πτολιπόρθιος, “sacker of cities.” He was a warrior. He didn’t anguish about those to whom he caused anguish. It was part of who he was. He gloried in it.