This is a marvelous poem. Everyone knows that. It has survived centuries - milennia. Now, thanks to Robert Fagles's brilliant and vivid translation, no reader should ever feel overwhelmed or literarily (word?) excluded by the Odyssey. While reading it, I learned that a) Greek men weep constantly, b) Greek hospitality is awesome and one receives many presents, c) Odysseus and Penelope's son Telemachus is pretty constantly an ass to his mother.

As the story winds down and Odysseus returns to Penelope, revenges himself upon her suitors, and reveals himself, Penelope surprises us by not embracing him as he expects, but is cold, reserved and unconvinced. When Odysseus reminds her of their unusual bed, Penelope is finally convinced that he is her husband. This bed is a rooted tree that grew through the floor of their room, Odysseus having hewed it into a bed for their marriage. This tree, the living cradle of an enduring and much tested love, is one of the most beautiful metaphors of marriage I have ever encountered through literature.