The more I think about it, the more convinced I am that Penelope suspects and recognises Odysseus in disguise long before he reveals himself to her. It not only makes sense, as I reread certain scenes and pay close attention to Penelope’s subtle game, but also enriches the poem.
You can read this essay, in which John B. Vlahos also argues this case at length (75 pages!).
Just examine all the action. First, Penelope hears from her son Telemakhos (better known as Telemachus) that Odysseus is alive; and hears from Theoklymenos (the diviner) and Eumanois (the swineherd) that he is near or even already on the island. She would then be alert to any stranger who appears. Then the beggar shows up.
When the beggar is among the suitors, Penelope decides to show herself. Why? To see the suitors? She hates them. To tell Telemakhos to “shun that crowd”, as she says to a maid? She doesn’t do so. For no reason other than that Athena puts the impulse in her head? I think Homer is just being devious. I would say that Penelope comes out to have a look at the stranger. Does she recognise him then? Maybe. Maybe not. Note that Athena disguises—ages—Odysseus but doesn’t transform him into someone else. Note that Eurykleia (the old nurse) and Philoitios (the cowherd) and even Penelope remark on the resemblance between the beggar and Odysseus. Note that Helen previously tells Telemakhos that she once recognised him in disguise as a slave. Why would Penelope not recognise her own husband under the rags?
She then speaks to the suitors, and many things she says sound like things she would want Odysseus to hear: about her own loyalty and sorrows, and about the way things currently stand. If we assume that she recognises or at least suspects Odysseus in that scene, her speeches seem to be a kind of double talk, and indeed they are perceived differently by the suitors (who think she plans to remarry) and by Odysseus (who sees that she is wheedling gifts out of the men who have been eating up his estate).
Now look at the scene in which Penelope questions the beggar. If we bear in mind that she knows there are disloyal servants in the house who may spy on them (as someone has previously revealed her weaving trick), the things she says again appear to be a kind of double talk.
“Friend, let me ask you first of all:
who are you, where do you come from, of what nation
and parents were you born?”
(Book 19)
(translated by Robert Fitzgerald)
In this conversation with a supposed stranger who is said to know about her husband’s return, Penelope doesn’t ask about Odysseus’s whereabouts. Instead, she asks about his history, about that time 20 years ago he supposedly met Odysseus, about what Odysseus was wearing.
There is something John B. Vlahos points out that I wouldn’t have known, reading the Odyssey in translation: a hint from Odysseus. Eva Brann makes the same observation in her essay:
“And now begins a curious, teasing, allusive conversation (XIX 104 ff). Odysseus asks her not to question him “…lest you fill my heart with many sorrows…” (XIX 117). Now the Greek here for “sorrows” is odynaon, a word which sounds in Odysseus’ own name; so for instance, he sits on Calypso’s isle “sorrowing [Odysseus-like] for his return” (noston odyromenos, V 153). He is audibly naming himself to her.”
After being questioned, Odysseus has his feet washed by the old nurse and—this is a famous moment—he is recognised by her. Penelope doesn’t notice this moment of recognition as she’s deep in thought. Then she starts speaking, and tells Odysseus about the dream—why would she, if she believes him to be a stranger?—it is a coded message and Penelope is asking Odysseus if he’s going to kill the suitors. He says:
“My dear, how can you choose to read the dream
differently? Has not Odysseus himself
shown you what is to come? Death to the suitors,
sure death, too. Not one escapes his doom.”
(Book 19)
She then tells Odysseus about her plan. In Book 21, Homer confusingly says that Athena puts in Penelope’s mind the idea of the bow, but Penelope has come up with the plan herself in Book 19: in a kind of double talk as though she intends to marry one of the suitors, she hints at what she wants, tells Odysseus what she’s going to do, and lets him know how she’s going to supply him with weapons.
My interpretation not only fits in with everything the characters say and do, but it also makes more sense than the popular interpretation: it might seem odd and inconsistent that Penelope all of a sudden announces the test of the bow and offers herself as the prize, the day after hearing from multiple people that Odysseus is still alive, unless she knows or suspects the beggar to be her husband and has faith in him and contrives a way to place the bow in his hands without provoking suspicions. But Penelope is afraid—there are 108 suitors, Odysseus comes back alone, Telemakhos is young—that’s why she seems shocked and distrustful when hearing the news from Eurykleia.
Finally, the reunion. I’ve come across a few times the suggestion that Penelope now confirms Odysseus’s identity with her test of the bed, but I disagree—the test is not about whether he knows about their bridal bed, but about whether he knows its significance and cherishes it the way she does—she doesn’t need to test his identity, she needs to test his affection.
Now that I’ve interpreted the Odyssey in this light, I’ve realised that it’s a truly subtle and sophisticated work of art. And I love Penelope.
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