It is time to come back home.
Spoiler alert: I think it would be hard to spoil The Odyssey, written thousands of years ago, but I plan to discuss an element in Christopher Nolan’s adaptation, so if you haven’t watched the movie yet, you may want to read this afterward. You’ve been warned.
The People from the Sea
In Nolan’s Odyssey, a motif that keeps coming up is that of the “people from the sea,” an impending menace that may arrive at any moment. It reminded me of something I learned in a long-forgotten history class. Something about how the Greek (Mycenaean) Dark Age may have been caused by people “from the lands across the sea.1” Interestingly, everybody seems aware of this unknown but felt threat. In the movie, both royalty, such as Penelope and Agamemnon, and peasants feared them. They all speak of it almost like a rumor, one of those things we somehow know but can’t quite remember where we heard it.
It is one of the story’s main revelations, though one that may get lost amid the action that follows, that Odysseus, his soldiers, and perhaps even the Greeks as a whole, are the people from the sea. How could that be? Aren’t they the good guys? Isn’t history written by the victors? You see, they committed atrocities at Troy whose memory, together with stories of their cunning victory, also traveled quietly from port to port: “Beware and try to be ready for the imminent arrival of the wicked people from the sea.”
The Enemy We Do Not Recognize
The movie, mirroring the original story, works hard to teach us, and repeatedly remind us, of the importance of Greek xenia (the guest-host relationship); however, it subtly shifts its emphasis toward what later came to be called the Golden Rule: “Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.” Odysseus argues that, by violating all that was ever sacred between people, they themselves, not mysterious invaders from elsewhere, brought about civilization’s downfall. It reminds me of Walt Kelly’s famous Pogo comic strip, where, after confronting the pollution of a pond, Pogo says, “We have met the enemy and he is us.”
Of course, there are many possible interpretations of what Nolan is trying to tell us. Is it a general criticism of the horrors of war, where human beings, winners and losers alike, unleash their darkest impulses, the beasts that Circe sees beneath their human disguise? Maybe. Does it refer to how humanity has turned its back on the Golden Rule, treating one another as enemies? Possibly. Is it a nod to how immigrants are currently not treated as guests (alongside how some guests, like the suitors, abuse hospitality) and the consequences that may follow? Probably. However, I am not a movie critic; I’m a psychotherapist, so I’ll leave those questions to brighter minds than mine.
The Odyssey and Jung’s Shadow
As a therapist, the revelation that we are the feared people from the sea reminded me of Jung’s concept of the shadow.
The shadow can be understood as the unconscious repository containing our repressed aggression, envy, weakness, hatred, fear, greed, cruelty, desires, instincts, etc. These are the parts of ourselves that society has taught us to reject, so we hide them and come to fear them. We all have one. It has been suggested that the more impressive or embellished the persona(lity), the larger the shadow it casts. Collectively, nations and cultures also have shadows: denied histories, disowned violence, racial fantasies, imperial ambitions, resentments, humiliations, archaic instincts, and unacknowledged guilt. While individuals project their shadow onto other people and then proceed to criticize or hate them, when nations, cultures, or groups do the same, the result is violent confrontation. In Jung’s terms, when we don’t become conscious of our shadow, our “inner opposite,” the world must act out the conflict and be torn into opposing halves. We see this in every war; it is also evident every time we turn those who are different from us into enemies. We see it in the fear of “aliens,” regardless of whether they come from another planet or another country. Sounds familiar?
That may be why the Sirens’ song revealed to Odysseus that he really didn’t want to go home. Going home requires him to confront his actions and, perhaps more importantly, acknowledge that those unrecognized impulses, the ones that allowed Circe to turn men into pigs, also exist within him. Although consciously he declares that he wants to return to Ithaca, unconsciously he may be afraid of what the journey will demand of him. In this way, we are all Odysseus. We are all people from the sea.
What We Refuse to Own
What do we do with the parts of ourselves we don’t like? Do we try to reject them, like Dr. Jekyll? (We know how that one ends.) Jung suggests (and I agree) that we need to integrate them rather than reject them. We not only project our shadow onto others, but what we fail to own eventually ends up owning us. Repressed parts find indirect ways to express themselves. We may become passive-aggressive, judgmental (toward ourselves and others), anxious, depressed, or even explosive. Keeping those parts at bay requires psychological energy, energy we could be using elsewhere. Reclaiming those rejected parts allows us to become whole. Maturity is not perfection but integration.
The Journey Back Home
Understood this way, Odysseus’ journey is one of self-discovery. It is a journey I have witnessed countless times in therapy. To heal and grow, the client needs to confront the Cyclops, the sorceress, and the monsters within. Stop denying (or forgetting) past actions and humbly face their consequences. Become aware of old roles and stories that no longer work. Visit the underworld to extract the lessons needed to move forward. Again, as the Sirens revealed, he must face head-on all the things he wanted, all those he wished he had never wished for, all the things he will never have, all those he has lost, and all the promises he failed to keep. As Calypso tells him, once he is finally ready to return home, just like clients in therapy, he must surrender himself to the process (in his case, the sea), give up the fight, relinquish control, take a leap of faith, and return to life.
Becoming who you are meant to be is not an easy journey, but it is a worthy one. I bear witness to it.
What parts of yourself are you still denying? Would you like to stop? It is time to realize that society taught you (and me) that you are not okay and that you needed to conform by pretending to be someone else. There’s nothing to be ashamed of. We’ve all made mistakes and can learn from them. There’s no need to keep struggling. It happened to all of us.
It is time to come back home.
- The expression comes from Egyptian texts circa 1100 BCE: https://www.livius.org/articles/people/sea-people/ ↩︎