I first read The Odyssey during freshman year of high school. I had started learning and speaking English only three years prior, I had no historical context for The Odyssey as far as my knowledge of Greek mythology went, and thus I neither understood nor appreciated the story or its literary merit much. In fact, it frustrated me that I didn't understand it, or the hype around it. I hated it. I gave it a 1/5 star rating on my prized Goodreads account. I never wanted to read it again, and I was glad I was over with it.
The second time I read The Odyssey was this year. My first year in college, exactly four years after my first encounter. I read The Odyssey this time for a humanities class in which we were focusing on travel literature. At this point in my life, I have had eight years of English under my belt, and a better grasp on the mythology. This didn't mean that when I saw the reading list, I didn't groan for a solid minute. I did. (Maybe not a whole minute, but you get the point.) I wasn't looking forward to rereading The Odyssey and I was further disheartened by the fact that we would spend a good two weeks of discussion on it.
But – it was good. It was great actually. The thematic approach helped, we had a certain framework for analyzing the text. The close and active reading uncovered the reason why The Odyssey is a fundamental part of the Western canon. Here was an extremely old text that dealt with a range of ideas and societal norms, from divine-mortal relations to hospitality and prophecy. In fact, the second time around earned it a place on my favorites shelf.
Also, I'll swallow my pride and admit that this time it was much less sacrilegious. In the sense that while I didn't approve of many things that happened within the story, I wasn't at a point in my life where I let that color my entire view of the work. I was exposed to new ideologies, lifestyles, mentalities and had made my peace with the differences in our moral standards and guidelines. I was mature enough to acknowledge the complexity and the moral ambiguity in the story in a way that lent itself to discussion, and didn't dismiss it immediately as something I couldn't think or talk about (e.g. infidelity, limited free will, a fallible conception of the divine, etc.).
But this isn't only about The Odyssey. It's true – I learned that upon rereading a text, I can gain a better appreciation of the literary significance of some works I might not have gotten previously, but I also understood that most things in life work this way. I can't and shouldn't let first impressions dictate all my subsequent behaviors and feelings. Especially with ideas and people.
It's impossibly unfair to judge people by one interaction and I am guilty of doing this. And it's a hard habit to get rid of but I am working towards it. I want to internalize the idea of assuming best intentions and be as open-minded as I can be without compromising my own values. And I think I can be that person, but I need to work on it.
Similarly, being open to ideas, and trying to understand the reasoning behind beliefs and thoughts I don't like, agree with, or ascribe to is essential for growth. And it's easy for me to forget the constructive side of that. Not to mention that listening is most usually preferable to shutting things out, and it makes it easier to change and adopt new ideas later on (because it's easier to overcome the ego and stubbornness that once existed).
Lots of snowflakes,
Belle