[Editor’s note: Alexandra Hudson is passionate about the way ideas and storytelling change people’s lives. She is the author of The Soul of Civility a, popular speaker, and the founder of Civic Renaissance, a publication and intellectual community dedicated to beauty, goodness and truth that comprises 50,000 intellectually curious people across the globe. A sought-after thinker and speaker, she has advised foreign governments and contributes to many news platforms. We are grateful that Alexandra has kindly shared her post on the Greek concept of xenia with us, as it speaks to the spirit of our 2025 tour Exploring Homer’s World: Bronze Age Greece. At the heart of our tour is philoxenia, which can be translated as “friend to the stranger.” Enjoy this special guest post!]
I recently finished Emily Wilson’s translation of Homer’s Odyssey, the nearly 3,000-year-old Greek epic poem that for millennia has been the cornerstone of the liberal arts and classical education. Wilson’s is also the first translation into English ever completed by a woman, a huge achievement worth celebrating.
I’ve long been amused by the definition of a Great Book as one that everyone wishes they had read, but no one wants to read. I had always wanted to read the Odyssey, and was familiar with many of its characters, quotes and its plot through the many courses I’ve enjoyed on the classical world.
My friend Anya, who runs Classical Wisdom, finally convinced me to do it. She told me that it was an accessible translation, one that could be read in just a sitting or two. This shocked me. All I could think about was how challenging I found it to get through The Iliad when I read it a few years ago. (I can’t recall which translation I attempted…)
I took Anya at her word, bought Wilson’s translation, and once I picked it up I could scarcely put it down. I loved reading about “rosy-fingered Dawn,” the “wine-dark sea,” and words and thoughts that “flew” between characters. I found beautiful language and vivid imagery on every page—and yes, it was remarkably accessible. It was empowering to not only understand, but to actually enjoy this work that has been read by so many for so long.
If you are someone who has always wanted to read the Odyssey but felt too intimidated to try or too discouraged by a past attempt at an inaccessible translation, I’d encourage you to try Wilson’s work—perhaps with Classical Pursuits next spring!
I love how Wilson explained why she insisted on using clear language in her translation:
“Displays of rhetoric and linguistic force are a good way to seem important and invite a particular kind of admiration, but they tend to silence dissent and discourse deeper modes of engagement.”
Her aim was to create a version of the Odyssey that could speak to a new generation of readers. For that, I am thankful.
Now, on to xenia, civility, manners, and hospitality in the Odyssey.
I was writing my book The Soul of Civility while reading the Odyssey, and was happily surprised when I realized that manners and civility are the primary theme of the work!
Workshop of Rubens
A short backstory of the Odyssey for readers who might not be familiar: the 24-book narrative follows the journey of Odysseus, king of the Greek city Ithaca, as he returns home from the Trojan War, where the Greeks destroyed the city of Troy (the story of the war is partially told in the Odyssey’s counterpart, Homer’s Iliad.)
The Odyssey’s driving theme is xenia: each book is a case study in the duties of welcoming strangers into one’s life and one’s home, as the story follows Odysseus as he journeys home to Ithaca and encounters various people of different places and cultures.
Notably, xenia means both stranger and friend, embodying the cliche that a “stranger is just a friend we haven’t met yet.”
I’ve been reflecting on what xenia means for us today, in a moment where we are all-too-familiar with xenophobia—fear of the other, the different, the stranger (a word derived, of course, from xenia).
The easiest, most universal thing in the world is to show benevolence to those to whom we are related, to people we like, to people like us, to people who can do things for us in return.
Xenia is all about the decency with which we treat the “other”—the person who is neither our kin, nor our neighbor, nor our friend, who is not like us, and who very likely will never be able to do anything for us in return.
The Greek ideal of xenia calls upon us to treat such “others” with the same decency we accord to those closest to us. We might describe this high standard of conduct as requiring kindness: literally, treating strangers and visitors with the benevolence with which we would treat our kin.
This is also how I define civility: according to the irreducible respect we owe to everyone by virtue of our shared humanity.
When Odysseus, finally home to Ithaca after nearly two decades away from home, reunites with his slave Eumaeus, we see xenia—and civility—in action. Because Odysseus is in disguise as an elderly and poor beggar, Eumaeus does not recognize him as his old master. Still, Eumaeus invites him into his home, feeds him, offers him clothes, and shares an evening with his hard-on-his-luck guest.
“One must honor guests and foreigners and strangers, even those much poorer than oneself,” Eumaeus says. “Zeus watches over beggars and guests and strangers. What I have to give is small, but I will give it gladly.”
Eumaeus has next to nothing, yet shares what little he has with someone whom he considers even more needy than he.
This is beautiful. And the Odyssey celebrates this sort of kindness to the stranger time and time again.
The Odyssey repeatedly describes respect and a welcoming posture toward newcomers as the stuff of good manners and civility—and civilization. Barbarism, meanwhile, consists of hostility and cruelty to the stranger and those in need.
Individuals who violate these ideals of xenia and civility—such as the suitors who aim to marry Odysseus’s wife Penelope while he is away, and who are cruel to Odysseus while he is disguised as an old beggar—are condemned to suffer.
This theme reminds me of the distinction Adam Smith makes between justice and beneficence. Justice is the minimum we owe to others, and refers to our negative duties to “do no harm.” It’s the stuff that allows a community or group of people to survive. Beneficence are the “above and beyond” things we do for others — the “second mile ethic” called for in the Christian Gospels, the radical hospitality the Odyssey celebrates time and time again.
I’ve been reflecting on how the dichotomy of justice and beneficence relate to xenia, civility, and hospitality. I’ve been trying to devise a framework for how to think about our obligations to one another as human beings—the bare minimum being justice, not actively harming others, the above-and-beyond being beautiful acts of generosity, such as sharing your last bit of food and wine with a complete stranger. Both obligations derive from the need to respect the humanity and dignity of the other—which again, is how I conceive and define civility.
So maybe civility is on a spectrum, with the minimum of justice—what is necessary to see a society survive—on one end, and beneficence—what is necessary to see a society flourish—on the other.
What do you think xenia’s high standard of hospitality means for us today? How do these themes—xenia, civility, hospitality, justice, and beneficence—relate to one another?
These ideas and others will be examined on the Classical Pursuits 2025 tour Exploring Homer’s World: Bronze Age Greece.
This tour offers a unique chance to read the Odyssey in a group, in Greece, and experience where the text and places come together. For ten days, starting in Athens, you will be immersed in ancient Greece’s rich cultural heritage. Our stay on Crete will be particularly special—a retreat-like experience where you can relax and reflect amidst the island’s serene olive groves and stunning views.
Enjoy Greece’s famous hospitality with a group of travellers who might start out as strangers but will end up as friends.
Thank you so much to Alexandra for sharing her work with Classical Pursuits. To learn more about the Civic Renaissance community, visit their website.
