I know she complimented my writing, but . . .

My Lit 201 prof reminds me of a pet chicken I once had, Penelope. It's strangely appropriate, as we're currently reading The Odyssey. Her chest puffs out birdlike over her thin legs. Her hair, lips, fingernails, and toenails all sport the same purple-red, reminsicent of the plumage that feathered my Rhode Island Red. She tends to squawk a little, too.

Today, she read a few reading journals from the assignments we had this week. "Oh, here's a title I like," she said, and proceeded to read:

Finger-Painting: Broad Brushes of Color in The Odyssey

I read from a translation by Robert Fitzgerald because I had a copy, and because after cross-referencing some of the passages with the online version at Perseus, I found I preferred the former. The deft poet paints his scenes in bright, quick strokes. He daubs brief, simple colors upon his verse with illustrative, forcefully apt penetration. The mere “Menelaus, the red-haired captain” invites a picture of the striking contrast this man’s blazing shock of hair must have been to the “grey sea” he rode upon. This shade is reflected too in “grey-eyed Athena,” a constant refrain. The color evokes the wisdom and power the goddess holds within her, her oddly tinted eyes a reflection of her other-worldliness.

Elsewhere, the “pink light” of Dawn’s appearance emanates across the horizon, illuminating Telemachus’ ascendance as the defender of his mother. The “black wave” of Odysseus’ impending return looms over Penelope’s suitors. Bound for Nestor’s shores, Telemachus boards a “black ship” driven by a contrasting “white sail.” Though he navigates the “hazy sea,” he is ever “clear-headed Telemachus,” able to determine the best routes not only on the water, but in his dealings with men, too.

These intense colors flash repeatedly throughout the narrative in similar manners. The recurring images must have aided the epic’s oral audience in identifying and recalling the important figures of the story. Achingly elementary but stunningly appropriate, the poet’s painterly approach evokes a broadly drawn canvas of figures representing the starkly concrete ancient view of the world.

She called it a "spectacular" entry, both "literally" and figuratively. I was just relieved to find that hearing my words in her theatrical cluck did nothing to lessen their appeal to me.