I sometimes wish for a week or so among the Victorians. Perhaps not much more, but they were curious folk.
In any case, it's a curious theory as, for myself, I always found the Nausicaa chapter of the Odyssey had a kind of bright color which some of the other chapters lacked; it's like the Wizard of Oz in the midst of a Murnau film. But that's not to say it's stronger; there is such great pathos in the other parts -- pathos which, in my opinion, reflects quite a mature sensibility. I'm thinking for instance of the moment where Ulysses hears the singer begin to tell his own story (and Athena hides his weeping in a kind of cloud). Or even the final moment of resolution, where Athena explains to Ulysses that he will have to walk inland with an oar on his shoulder until he finds people for whom the sea is so remote, so unthinkable, that they greet him by asking what this winnowing fan is on his shoulder: and there he must build an altar to Poseidon and sacrifice, and the feud will be forgiven.
These are not, I think, precisely the sorts of pathos one feels at twenty; though it might well have been Nausicaa the wise queen, framing this story to explain events long after her brief encounter with Ulysses.