The Homer Encyclopedia [3] 1405177683, 9781405177689

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Volume III

The

Homer

Encyclopedia Edited by

Margalit Finkelberg SBD-FFLCH-USP

® W I LEY-BLACKWELL A John Wiley & Sons, Ltd., Publication

-^ 3

This edition first published 2011 ©2011 Blackwell Publishing Ltd Blackwell Publishing was acquired by' John Wiley & Sons in February 2007. Blackwell’s publishing program has been merged with Wiley’s global Scientific, Technical, and Medical business to form Wiley-Blackwell. Registered Office John Wiley & Sons Ltd, The Atrium, Southern Gate, Chichester, West Sussex, P019 8SQ, United Kingdom Editorial Offices

350 Main Street, Malden, MA 02148-5020, USA 9600 Garsington Road, Oxford, OX4 2DQ, UK The Atrium, Southern Gate, Chichester, West Sussex, P019 8SQ, UK For details of our global editorial offices, for customer services, and for information about how to apply for permission to reuse the copyright material in this book please see our website at www.wiley.com/wiley-blackwell. The right of Margalit Finkelberg to be identified as the author of the editorial material in this work has been asserted in accordance with the UK Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, except as permitted by the UK Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988, without the prior permission of the publisher. Wiley also publishes its books in a variety of electronic formats. Some content that appears in print may not be available in electronic books. Designations used by companies to distinguish their products are often claimed as trademarks. All brand names and product names used in this book are trade names, service marks, trademarks or registered trademarks of their respective owners. The publisher is not associated with any product or vendor mentioned in this book. This publication is designed to provide accurate and authoritative information in regard to the subject matter covered. It is sold on the understanding that the publisher is not engaged in rendering professional services. If profes­ sional advice or other expert assistance is required, the services of a competent professional should be sought. Library o f Congress C ataloging-in-Publication D ata

The Homer encyclopedia /edited by Margalit Finkelberg. p. cm. Includes bibliographical references and index. ISBN 978-1-4051-7768-9 (hardcover: alk. paper) 1. Homer-Encyclopedias. 1. Finkelberg, Margalit. PA4037.A5H58 2011 883'.0I-dc22 2010025063 A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library. Set in 9.5/11.5pt Minion by SPi Publisher Services, Pondicherry, India 1

2011 MIX

FSC

Paper from responsible sources

FSC * C 013604

Brief Contents

Volume I List o f Entries List o f Illustrations List o f Maps Notes on Contributors Preface and Acknowledgments Synopsis List o f Abbreviations

vi xvii xix xx xxxvii xxxix xlv

The Homer Encyclopedia A -G

1-325

Volume II List o f Illustrations List o f Maps List o f Abbreviations The Homer Encyclopedia H -Q

vi viii ix 326-705

Volume III List o f Illustrations List o f Maps List o f Abbreviations The Homer Encyclopedia R -Z References Index

vi viii ix 706-954 955 1031

Illustrations

Fig. 1

Earliest known photograph of the Lion Gate at Mycenae, ca. 1859

70

Fig. 2

Plan of the citadel of Mycenae showing the excavations by Schliemann in the area immediately inside the Lion Gate and Grave Circle A

71

Fig. 3

Tiryns, the eastern approach, ca. 1886

71

Fig. 4

The fortifications of Troy VI, with Dörpfeld standing on top, 1894

72

Fig. 5

Scythian warrior stringing a composite bow

Fig. 6

“Schliemann’s Nestor’s cup” from Shaft Grave IV

100

Fig. 7

A woodcut of Nestor’s cup by A. Alciato (1584)

101

Fig. 8

Avdo Medjedovii

121

Fig. 9

Carl W. Biegen

134

Fig. 10

Plan of the Mycenaean palace of Pylos

376

Fig. 11

Lefkandi (Toumba), plan

377

Fig. 12

Lefkandi (Toumba), reconstruction

377

Fig. 13

Oropos, aerial photo of the Early Iron Age settlement

378

Fig. 14

Blinding of cyclops, amphora, Eleusis; early 7th century bce

392

Fig. 15

Blinding of cyclops, Etruscan pithos; 650-625

392

Fig. 16

Chariot race at the Funeral Games for Patroklos, from the François vase; early 6th century bce

393

Fig. 17

The “Euphronios krater,” ca. 515

403

Fig. 18

Transcription of the Dipylon Oinochoe inscription of a Late Geometric prize jug from Athens, ca. 730 bce

410

Albert B. Lord

488

Fig. 19

80

bce

bce

LIST OF ILLU STRATIO NS

Fig. 20

The area of Mycenae

VII

536

Fig. 21

The inscription on “Nestor’s Cup,” from Pithekoussai, ca. 730

Fig. 22

Odyssey 9.295-309, 344-384, and 11.273-282, archive of Aurelius Ammon, Panopolis (Egypt), 3rd century ce

622

Fig. 23

Milman Parry

630

Fig. 24

Phoinix leads the Embassy to Achilles; bronze tripod leg, Olympia, ca. 620 bce

662

Fig. 25

Nicosia, Kouklia T.9:7, 11th-century

664

Fig. 26

Archelaus o f Priene, Apotheosis o f Homer (3rd century

bce

bce

proto-bichrome kalathos

573

bc e )

709

Fig. 27

Pintoricchio (1454-1513), Penelope with the Suitors, ca. 1509

730

Fig. 28

Gavin Hamilton (1723-1798), Achilles Lamenting the Death ofPatroclus, 1760-1763

731

Fig. 29

John Flaxman (1755-1826), The Embassy to Achilles from The Iliad, 1793

732

Dame Elisabeth Frink (1930-1993), from The Odyssey, Odysseus and Penelope, 1973-1974

733

Fig. 31

Heinrich Schliemann

762

Fig. 32

Ship and rigging

781

Fig. 33

Impression of the Shield of Achilles

795

Fig. 34

Large building of Troy Vila excavated in the course of recent excavations west of the citadel

899

Fig. 35

Plan of Late Bronze Age Troy

900

Fig. 36

South Gate of Troy VI and VII

901

Fig. 37

Troy VIII, ca. 100 bce

903

Fig. 38

Troy IX, ca. 100 ce

904

Fig. 39

Folio 19r of the Venetus A, featuring Iliad A 352-376, with accompanying scholia

923

F. A. Wolf, painting by Johann Wolff, 1823

937

Fig. 30

Fig. 40

Maps

Map 1 Troy’s Homeric Allies

52

Map 2

The bases of the Greek contingents in the Catalogue of Ships

Map 3

The Troad

307

Map 4

Troy and environs

308

Map 5

Major regions and cities enjoying close contacts with Ithaca in the Ithacan books of the Odyssey (1-4, 13-24)

310

154

Abbreviations

A&A

Antike und Abendland

AA

Archäologischer Anzeiger

AAA

Archaiologika analekta ex Athenon (Athens Annals o f Archaeology)

AAntHung

Acta Antiqua Academiae Scientiarum Hungaricae

AC

VAntiquité classique

AClass

Acta Classica

AH

Archaeologia Homerica: die Denkmäler und das frühgriechische Epos, ed. Friedrich Matz and Hans-Gunter Buchholz. Gottingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1967-

AJA

American Journal o f Archaeology

AJP

American Journal o f Philology

Allen

T. W. Allen. Homeri Opera, vols. 1-2: 3rd ed. (1920); vols. 3-4: 2nd ed. (1917-1919). Oxford: Clarendon Press

ANRW

Aufstieg und Niedergang der römischen Welt

AS

Anatolian Studies

ASNP

Annali della Scuola Normale Superiore di Pisa

ATU

H-J. Uther. The Types o f International Folktales: A Classification and Bibliography, vols. 1-3. Helsinki: Academia Scientiarum Fennica, 2004

AW

Antike Welt

BAR

Biblical Archaeology Review

BASOR

Bulletin o f the American Schools o f Oriental Research

BCH

Bulletin de Correspondance Hellénique

X

LIST OF ABBREVIA TIO NS

Beazley, ARV

J. D. Beazley. Attic Red-Figure Vase Painters, vols. 1-3. 2nd ed. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1963

Bernabé

A. Bernabé. Poetarum Epicorum Graecorum Testimonia et Fragmenta {PEG). I. Stuttgart and Leipzig: Teubner, 1996 (1st ed., 1987). II. Munich and Leipzig: Saur, 2004-2005 (= OF Bernabé)

BICS

Bulletin o f the Institute o f Classical Studies

BMCR

Bryn Mawr Classical Review

BNP

Brill’s New Pauly. Leiden and Boston, 2002-

BSA

Annual o f the British School a t Athens

CA

Classical Antiquity

CAF

T. Kock. Comicorum Atticorum Fragmenta. 3 vols. Leipzig: Teubner, 1880-1888

CAG

Commentaria in Aristotelem Graeca

CAH

Cambridge Ancient History

Campbell

D. A. Campbell (ed.). Greek Lyric: Sappho and Alcaeus. Cambridge, MA, 1982

CEG

Carmina Epigraphica Graeca, vols. 1-2, ed. P. A. Hansen. Berlin and New York: de Gruyter, 1983-1989

Chantraine

P. Chantraine. Dictionnaire étymologique de la langue grècque. Histoire des mots. Paris: Klincksieck, 1968. New edition with supplement, 1999

CJ

Classical Journal

CoMIK

J. Chadwick, L. Godart, J. T. Killen, J.-P. Olivier, A. Sacconi, L. Sakellarakis. Corpus ofMycenaean Inscriptions, vols. 1-4. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1986-1998

CP

Classical Philology

CQ

Classical Quarterly

CR

Classical Review

CSCA

California Studies o f Classical Antiquity

CTA

A. Herdner (ed.). Corpus des tablettes en cunéiformes alphabétiques découvertes à Ras Shamra-Ugarit de 1929 à 1939. Paris: Geuthner 1963

CW

Classical World

D-K

H. Diels and W. Kranz. Die Fragmente der Vorsokratikeru> (DielsKranz). Berlin: Weidmann, 1960-1961

Davies, EGF

M. Davies (ed.). Epicorum Graecorum Fragmenta. Göttingen: Vandenhoek 8c Ruprecht, 1988

Davies, PMGF

M. Davies (ed.). Poetarum Melicorum Graecorum Fragmenta, vol. 1. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1991

LIST OF ABBREVIA TIO NS

XI

Ebeling

H.

Ebeling. Lexicon Homericum. Leipzig: Teubner, 1880-1885

EGF

see Davies, EGF

EMC

Echos du Monde Ciassique

FGrHist

see Jacoby

Fowler

R. L. Fowler. Early Greek Mythography, vol. 1: Text and Introduction. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2000

G&R

Greece and Rome

GEF

see West

GGM

see Müller

GRBS

Greek, Roman, and Byzantine Studies

GVl

W. Peek (ed.). Griechische Vers-Inschriften I: Grab-Epigramme. Berlin: Akademie-Verlag, 1955

HED

Hittite Etymological Dictionary. Berlin and New York: Mouton de Gruyter, 1991—

HSCP

Harvard Studies in Classical Philology

ICS

Illinois Classical Studies

IEG

M. L. West (ed.). Iambi et Elegi Graeci ante Alexandrum cantati, vols. 1-2. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1971-1972 (= W)

IG

Inscriptiones Graecae, 1873—

IJCT

International Journal o f the Classical Tradition

Jacoby

F. Jacoby. Die Fragmente der griechischen Historiker. Berlin: Weidmann 1923- (= FGrHist)

JANER

Journal o f Ancient Near Eastern Religions

mi

Journal o f the History o f Ideas

JHS

Journal o f Hellenic Studies

JNES

Journal o f Near Eastern Studies

K-A

= PCG

Kannicht

R. Kannicht (ed.). TrGF, voL 5: Euripides (2004)

KGW

Friedrich Nietzsche. Werke. Kritische Gesamtausgabe. Ed. G. Colli and M. Montinari. Berlin: de Gruyter, 1967-

Kroll

W. Kroll (ed.). Procli Diadochi in Platonis Rem publicam commentarii. Leipzig: Teubner, 1899-1901

KUB

Keilschrifturkunden aus Boghazkoi

Lex. Vind.

Lexicon Vindobonense, ed. A. Nauck. St. Petersburg, 1867. Repr. Hildesheim: G. Olms, 1965

LfgrE

Lexikon des frühgriechischen Epos. Göttingen: Vandenhoeck 8t Ruprecht, 1955-

XII

LIST OF ABBREVIA TIO NS

LIMC

Lexicon Iconographicum Mythologiae Classicae, vols. 1-9. Zurich and Munich: Artemis, 1981-1999

Lobel-Page

Poetarum Lesbiorum Fragmenta, ed. E. Lobel and D. Page. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1963

LSAM

F. Sokolowski. Lois sacrées de l’Asie Mineure. Paris: de Boccard, 1955

LSJ

H. G. Liddell and R. Scott. A Greek-English Lexicon, 9th ed. Revised and augmented by H. S. Jones with the assistance of R. McKenzie. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1940

Maehler

H. Maehler. Die Lieder des Bakchylides: I. Die Siegeslieder (1982), II. Die Dithyramben und Fragmente (1997). Leiden: Brill.

M il

Museum Helveticum

MHV

A. Parry (ed.). The Making o f Homeric Verse: The Collected Papers o f Milman Parry. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1971

Montanari

F. Montanari. I frammenti dei grammatici Agathokles, Hellanikos, PtolemaiosEpithetes: in appendice i grammatici Theophilos, Anaxagoras, Xenon. Berlin: de Gruyter, 1988

Most

G. W. Most. Hesiod, vols. 1-2. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 2006-2007

motif

S. Thompson. A Motif-Index o f Folk-Literature: A Classification o f Narrative Elements in Folktales, Ballads, Myths, Fables, Mediaeval Romances, Exempla, Fabliaux, Jest-Books and Local Legends, vols. 1-6. Rev. ed. Bloomington and London: Indiana University Press, 1955-1958

Müller

K. Müller (ed.). 1855. Geographi graeci minores (GGM). Paris: A. Firmin Didot

M-W

R. Merkelbach and M. L. West. Fragmenta Hesiodea. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1967

Nauck

= TGF

NP

Der Neue Pauly. Enzyklopädie der Antike, ed. H. Cancik, H. Schneider, M. Landfester. Stuttgart: Metzler, 1996—

OCD

S. Hornblower and A. Spawforth (eds.). The Oxford Classical Dictionary. 3rd ed. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2003

OF Bernabé

A. Bernabe (ed.). Orphicorum et Orphicis similium testimonia et frag­ menta. PEG II, vols. 1-2. Munich and Leipzig: Saur, 2004-2005

OF Kern

O. Kern (ed.). Orphicorum fragmenta. Berlin: Weidmann, 1863

OJA

Oxford Journal o f Archaeology

OT

Oral Tradition. Also available online at http://journal.oraltradition. org

Page

= PMG

PCG

R. von Kassel and C. Austin (K-A). Poetae Comici Graeci, vols. 1-8. Berlin: de Gruyter, 1983-2001

LIST OF ABBREVIA TIO NS

XIII

PCPS

Proceedings o f the Cambridge Philological Society

PdP

La Parola del Passato

PEG

see Bernabé

Pfeiffer

Pfeiffer, R. Callimachus, vol. 1. Fragmenta-, vol. 2. Hymni et epigrammata. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1949-1953

PGM

K. Preisendanz. Papyri Graecae Magicae, vols. 1-2. Leipzig: Teubner, 1928-1931. 2nd ed. Stuttgart, 1973-1974

PHP

Galen De Placitis Hippocratis et Platonis

PMG

D. L. Page (ed.). Poetae melici Graeci. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1962

PMGF

see Davies, PMGF

PRIA

Proceedings o f lhe Royal Irish Academy

QUCC

Quaderni Urbinati di Cultura Classica

RA

Revue archéologique

RAAN

Rendiconti dell’Accademia di Archeologia, Lettere e Belle Arti di Napoli

Radt

S. Radt (ed.). TrGF, vol. 4: Sophocles (1977)

RE

Paulys Real-Encyclopädie Stuttgart

RÊA

Revue des Etudes Anciennes

RÉG

Revue des Etudes grecques

RFIC

Rivista di filologia e di istruzione classica

RhM

Rheinisches Museum

RIA

Reallexikon der Assyriologie und Vorderasiatischen Archäologie. Berlin and New York: de Gruyter

Roscher

W. H. Roscher. Ausführliches Lexikon der griechischen und römischen Mythologie. Leipzig: Teubner, 1884—

Rose

V. Rose (ed.). Aristotelis qui ferebantur librorum fragmenta. Stuttgart: Teubner, 1967

RPh

Revue de Philologie, de littérature et d ’histoire anciennes

SB

Sammelbuch griechischer New York: de Gruyter

SCI

Scripta Classica Israelica

SEG

Supplementum epigraphicum Graecum, 1923-

SIG

W. Dittenberger. 1915-1925

SMEA

Studi Micenei ed Egeo-Anatolici

SO

Symbolae Osloenses

ST

Studia Troica

Sylloge

der

klassischen

Altertumswissenschaft.

Urkunden aus Aegypten. Berlin and

Inscriptionum

Graecarum.

3rd

ed.

xiv

LIST 0 F ABBREVIA TIO NS

Stud.Pal.

Studien zur Palaeographie und Papyruskunde

SVF

Stoicorum Veterum Fragmenta, ed, H. von Arnim. Repr. Stuttgart 1978 from 1st ed., 1903-1905

SyllClass

Syllecta Classica

TAPA

Transactions and Proceedings o f the American Philological Association

TGF

A. Nauck (ed.). Tragicorum Graecorum Fragmenta. Leipzig: Teubner. 2nd ed., 1889. Repr. with suppl. by B. Snell. Hildesheim: Olms, 1964

ThesCRA

Thesaurus Cultus et Rituum Antiquorum. Los Angeles and Basel: Paul Getty Museum, 2004-2005

TrGF

Tragicorum Graecorum Fragmenta, vols. 1-5, ed. B. Snell, S. Radt, R. Kannicht. Göttingen: Vandenhoeck 8c Ruprecht, 1971-2004

W

= IEG

West

M. L. West (ed.). Greek Epic Fragments (GEF). Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 2003

WS

Wiener Studien

YCS

Yale Classical Studies

ZPE

Zeitschrift fü r Papyrologie und Epigraphik

R

Reception, Archaic and Classical Homer’s and O d y s s e y were revered staples in the cultural life of ancient Greece. Transmitted from generation to generation by rhapsodes , who probably sang them verbatim (Pelliccia 2003), they formed the core of young people’s educa­ tion . Therefore, epic stories, characters, themes, and motifs, as well as vocabulary, imagery, and cadences were familiar in varying degrees to all strata o f ancient Greek society, and their echoes can be heard throughout all the literary genres. Nevertheless, our understanding o f the recep­ tion o f Homer in ancient times is hampered by the fact that so little o f the ancient Greek literary opus has survived intact and even more so by the many questions arising from the works that we do have. From A r c h a ic times Homeric locu­ tions were part of the literary convention (see Q u o ta tio n s ). For every apparent Homeric refer­ ence, one must ask, as scholars do, whether Homer was actually the author’s primary source or model, whether the reference harks back to a post-Homeric poet, or whether it merely reflects common poetic usage. If the primary source was Homer, then the question is whether the refer­ ence or echo was an inadvertent outcome o f the author’s knowledge o f Homer or an intentional borrowing or a l l u s io n that he/she expected his/ her audience, or part o f it, to recognize. Where I l ia d

T he H om er Encyclopedia, edited by Margalit Finkelberg © 2011 Blackwell Publishing Ltd.

intentionality can be established, the question becomes the purpose and function of the Homeric reminiscences. How do they fit into their new set­ tings? How did the author change the original? What is the significance of these changes in the new work? These and other questions regarding Homer’s reception can be answered only by close analysis of individual instances - an endeavor which has occupied many scholars. Language, themes, and values in ancient lyric and elegiac poetry reveal their Homeric herit­ age. In both the monodic poems and choral odes, linguistic and stylistic echoes were used to make characters true to the Homeric original (e.g., swift-footed A c h il l e s ); to create a heroic tone or atmosphere (e.g., Archilochus, Anacreon; see Harvey 1957); to lend significance to events; and to produce a strong emotional effect (Lefkowitz 1969). Such Homeric themes as mankind’s responsibility for human misery, the brevity o f human life, and the uncertainty of fortune, with their attendant Homeric imagery, are found in such different poets as Solon (fr. 4.8; see Jaeger 1966); Semonides (fr. 1.3 W); Theognis (frs. 656,966 W ); Simonides (fr. 8.2 W dubium ); Mimnermus (fr. 2.1-8 W ); and Tyrtaeus (fr. 10.21-30 W ) (Garner 1990, 1-20). Like Homer, some o f the lyric poets invoked the M u s e as testimony o f the veracity of their lines (Graziosi and Haubold 2009; Griffith 2009). Like Homer, the choral poets extolled the value o f fame and claimed the poet’s power to bestow

RECEP TION, A R C H A IC AND C L A S S IC A L

it. Also like Homer they praised feats o f strength and agility, exhorted their hearers to martial valor and self-sacrifice, and celebrated the conventional Homeric values of beauty, justice, loyalty, and piety. At the same time, the lyric poets engaged in a dialogue with the Homeric model. Monodie lyric offers an anti-epic mentality, for example in Archilochus’ abandonment of his shield (fr. 5 W ), or in Sappho’s assertion that the “finest” thing is not an array of cavalry or infantry or ships but “whatever someone is in love with” (fr. 16.3-4 Lobel-Page). Anacreon uses standard Homeric e p it h e t s sardonically, with an emphasis on the difference between his outlook and Homer’s (Harvey 1957). Stesichorus challenges the Homeric version of the cause of the TVio jan W a r by intro­ ducing the notion (later developed by Herodotus and Euripides) that H e le n never went to T roy (Graziosi and Haubold 2009). Bacchylides’ odes are saturated with Homeric reminiscences, but he uses them to emphasize his departure from the heroic perspective and his focus on human limita­ tions (Lefkowitz 1969). He often uses compound epithets, a feature of Homer’s style that he adopted (as did Pindar), in new combinations, or creates his own (Cairns and Howie 2010, 39-41, 49-58). In Ode 5, he diverges significantly from the Homeric version of the myth of M elea g er ’s battle with the Kalydonian boar told in Iliad 9.529-599 (see K a lyd o n ), and in Ode 13, he retells the story of the Battle for the Ships told in Iliad 15.262-746. Pindar both criticizes Homer for exalting O d ysseu s above his merits (Nem. 7.20-30), and praises him for having established for subsequent ages the deserv­ edly high reputation of A ja x (Isthm. 4.35-43). Of the thirty-two extant tragedies and one extant satyr play, only two directly treat an epi­ sode in Homer’s epics: Rhesos, which is usually attributed to Euripides although its authorship and date are disputed, and Euripides’ satyr play Cyclops (see also T r a g e d y ). These plays show the author’s intense engagement with Homer, along with his rejection of Homer’s depiction of war as an arena for great and courageous men to prove their virtue. Rhesos, a reworking of the Trojan espionage mission described in Iliad 10 (see D o l o n e ia ), shows war as a confused and sordid plane of brutality and draws both H e c to r and R h eso s as degraded figures. The towering, multi­ faceted Hector of the Iliad is depicted solely as a

70 7

military commander who lacks the leadership abilities o f his Homeric namesake and who is both more brutal and more pliable. Rhesos - whose description in the Iliad is limited to his h o r s es , c h a r io t , and a rm o r - is depicted as an incompe­ tent braggart and over-reacher of dubious motives and commitment. In the Cyclops, based on Odys­ sey 9, Euripides reduces both Odysseus and Po lyph em o s to the low comedy personae typical o f satyr drama. Odysseus is drawn as an ordinary, bumbling human being who is also a self-pro­ claimed liar and cheat. The Cyclops Polyphemos is drawn as a typical Greek householder. Odysseus’ blinding of Polyphemos, lauded in Homer, where it is essential to Odysseus’ and his comrades’ sur­ vival, is depicted as an act o f gratuitous cruelty motivated by the desire for revenge. Although not specifically anchored in Homer’s epics, twelve tragedies deal with incidents leading up to the Trojan War, as well as during and soon after it, and feature characters made famous by Homer. O f the three great tragedians, Aeschylus best preserves the dignity and stature of Homer’s heroes. His A gam em n o n , like Homer’s, is a war­ rior and king whose greatness, like that of all of Homer’s warriors, is not diminished by his flaws. Sophocles, on the other hand, adjusts his charac­ terizations to his dramatic needs. In Ajax, the eponymous hero retains the heroic quality of his “glorious” Homeric namesake even as he is mad­ dened by his rage. M en e la o s and Agamemnon, however, are depicted as tyrants, while Odysseus shows compassion and moderation, along with the persuasive speech of Homer’s wily hero. In contrast, in Philoktetes, Odysseus is stripped of his life-affirming Homeric resourcefulness and drawn as an unscrupulous politician for whom the end justifies the means. Euripides’ characteri­ zations in his Trojan War plays (Iphigeneia at Aulis, Hecuba, The Trojan Women, Andromache, Helen, and Iphigeneia in Tauris) invert Homeric values. Agamemnon is shown to be maddened by his pursuit o f honor and driven by it to unre­ deemable brutality and cruelty. So is O r e s t e s . Menelaos is drawn as cowardly and opportunis­ tic, as well as callous and cruel, as is Odysseus. Achilles, who has a minor role in Iphigeneia in Aulis, is an exception. The w omen of Homer’s epics fare little better. As in the Iliad, H e c u b a and A n d r o m a ch e are suffering women whose chil­ dren die horrific deaths, but Hecuba is depicted

708

REC EP TION, A R C H A IC AND C L A S S IC A L

as inhumanly savage in her vengeance for her son’s murder, and Andromache as shrill and selfrighteous in her censure of Helen. In Helen, Euripides uses a non-Homeric version of the story: the heroine is a virtuous wife who spent the Trojan War in Egypt. The two great 5th-century historical narratives, Herodotus’ Histories, which relates the history of the Persian Wars and Thucydides’ history of the Peloponnesian War, owe their core conceptions to Homer’s epics (Boedeker 2002; Rengakos 2006; see also Historians and Ho m er ). They are the first known works that strive to present historical events and actions as a meaningful whole, in which cause and effect as well as the participants’ motives, ideas, and experiences are brought to bear on the chain of events, as they are in Homer’s epics. Like those epics, these histories tell the “story” of a war, combining narrative and d irect speech in an imaginative, vivid, and dramatic rendering of events from the perspectives of both sides. In tell­ ing their stories, they employ Homeric narrative techniques, including ring co m po sitio n , to pro­ vide background, interlacing of accounts of simul­ taneous events, and creation of suspense through d igression s . Both authors pay homage to Homer in their many echoes o f his epics, as well as directly. However, their works are more ambitious in scope than the epics, covering not only a part of their war, as the Iliad does, but its entirety. Both authors introduce their personal voices into their narra­ tives, which Homer does n o t Finally, both claim that their histories are superior to Homer’s epics, whether in veracity (Hdt 1.4; Boedeker 2002) or importance (Thuc. 1.1.1-2,1.10.3). See

also I conography , C r it ic is m , E arly Per io d .

E arly ;

L iterary

HANNA ROISM AN

Reception, Hellenistic The unfailing popular­ ity of Homeric perform ance throughout the Classical period, as attested by, among other things, the busy touring schedule credited to the rhapsode Ion in P lato ’s work of that name, per­ sists in the era of Macedonian dominance, though now new incentives for it can be discerned: while A lexander th e G reat ’s own (alleged) preoccu­ pation with the Iliad (Plut. Alex. 8.2; cf. Dio Chrys.

2.79) and its principal hero Ach illes (Plut. Alex. 15.8; Arr. Anab. 1.12.1) may have been in part stimulated by longstanding insecurities about the legitimacy of royal Macedonian claims to Hellenicity (cf. Hdt. 5.22; cf. 8.137.1, 9.45.2), in the intensely multicultural empire he left behind him figurative and literal Homer-worship (Brink 1972) became a device by which his successors could consolidate and strengthen Greek group identity in the midst of non-Greek subjects. In Egyptian Alexandria the fourth Ptolemaic king, Philopator (221-205 iice ), built an elaborate shrine in which the poet was represented in sculp­ ture, surrounded by all the cities that lay claim to him. Cults of Homer are said to have existed in A rgos and C hios already in the 4th century, though it is unclear whether these rites accorded him divine or heroic status (Pinkwart 1965,169170); but there is no ambiguity about the surviv­ ing relief, perhaps contemporary with Philopa tor’s Homereum, sculpted by Archelaus of Priene: it represents no less than the poet’s apotheosis (Fig. 26): “On the lowest o f four registers Homer sits on a throne, the I l i a d and O d y s s e y kneeling on each side of him while Chronos and Oikoumene crown him. Figures identified as Myth, History, Poetry, Tragedy and Comedy make offerings on an altar in front of Homer, followed by Physis, Arete, Mneme, Pistis and Sophia. The upper reg­ isters show Apollo with lyre and all nine Muses in a mountain setting... with Zeus and Mnemosyne (their parents). The heavy-handed message is all too clear: Homer, whose fame is ever-lasting and worldwide, is the source o f all literature, prose and verse alike" (Cameron 1995,273; for further discussion, Pinkwart 1965 and more briefly, in English, Brink 1972, 549-552 and Hunter 2004, 235-237). While attempts to place Archelaus’ relief in the Homereum itself necessarily remain speculative (e.g., Pollitt 1986, 16), it can be noted that a third contemporary witness, an anonymous epigram surviving on papyrus (Supplementum Hellenisticum 979), celebrates both the shrine and its royal founder, and follows the relief in according divine status to the poet, “who once wrote the ageless songs of the Odyssey and Iliad from his immortal mind.” Philopator had Homer represented with the cities who claimed to be his birthplace - a group from which Alexander’s new Egyptian foundation was obviously excluded; but did the

REC EP TION, H E LLE N IS TIC

Fig. 26.

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Archelaus of Priene. Apotheosis of Homer (3rd century b c f .). The Trustees of the British Museum.

Homereum lay claim to the poet in some other sense? By the mid 2nd century 150 years of Alexandrian Homer scholarship would achieve its culmination in the work of A r i s t a r c h u s o f S a m o t h r a c e , the precise nature o f whose contri­ bution to the establishment of our texts of the epics continues to be vigorously and productively debated today (see A l e x a n d r i a n S c h o l a r s h i p ). The para­ doxical obstacle to assessing the Alexandrian recep­ tion of Homer is our uncertainty about the degree to which what was being received was the creation of the recipients; Aristarchus is the key figure in deciding this issue. Since Homeric p a p y r i dating from the period before his editorial activity exhibit a greater degree of difference from the medieval text than do papyri coming after it, it is not unreasona­ bly thought that his work may have had something to do with the change (see further T e x t a n d T r a n s m i s s i o n ).

When we speak of the Hellenistic literary reception o f Homer, however, we think above all of Aristarchus’ scholarly predecessors in the

Alexandrian Library - exemplary figures like Callimachus and Apollonius of Rhodes, who were not only cataloguers, editors, and critics of the classic literature of Greece, but the crea­ tors o f a new and distinctively “Alexandrian” poetry founded upon an innovative aesthetic that decisively influenced poets for centuries to come, not least in Rome. Until quite recently it was assumed that a fundamental dogma of this new “Callimachean” poetics was the rejection of “Homeric” poetics, e.g., of epic on the grand scale: Callimachus’ own report that his detractors faulted him for being unable to write a poem of substantial (i.e., Homeric) length (Aet. fr. 1.1—6), taken together with his own adverse comments on, e.g., “the cyclic poem” (Ep. 28.1 Pfeiffer; see C y c l e , E p ic ) and the vast and muddy Assyrian (poetic) stream (Ap. 108-109), seemed to chime with an ancient biographical tradition that there was a falling out between him and his protégé Apollonius, with the latter reportedly driven in shame from Alexandria by the hostility with

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which his Argonautica was received. Callimachus’ (apparently intolerant) preference, by this argu­ ment, was for the small-scaled and intricate, deli­ cate, refined, and recherché. Sustaining this view, however, required that certain large pieces of con­ trary evidence be sidelined: for example, the total length of Callimachus’ own chef d'oeuvre, the Aetia, now appears to have ultimately been com­ parable to that of Apollonius’ (Cameron 1995, 357 n. 76). More importantly, the poetic textures of the two men’s works are more alike than differ­ ent. Apollonius’ epic is, on any fair reading, indif­ ferent to Homeric (and A r i s t o t e l i a n ) canons of n a r r a t i v e and plot, and lingers over exactly the same kind of abstruse local detail, reported in similarly highly wrought diction, as Callimachus puts on display in the Aetia. Furthermore, the biographical tradition reporting the "quarrel” with Callimachus is now recognized to be untrust­ worthy (Lefkowitz 1981, 117-135). More recent scholarship has been able to accommodate the known evidence better by arguing that the attitude of Callimachus and Apollonius (et al.) towards Homer was consistent with that of Ptolemy Philopator, Archelaus, and the anonymous epigrammatist: Homer was supreme and incomparable, the source from which all subsequent poetry must flow. The man­ ner in which the Alexandrian poets engaged with this inescapable presence was inventive and vari­ ous. First, a tendency we might fairly regard as “academic”: time and again unique words and unusual variant readings of the Homeric text reappear in the verses of Callimachus, Apollonius, Lycophron (whose identity and date remain uncertain), and die non-Alexandrian Hellenistic astronomical poet Aratus, among others. The poets seem to be taking sides in controversies on not just the constitution of the text but also ques­ tions o f usage and stylistics (see Rengakos 1992, 1993,1994a, 1994b for inventories). To what pur­ pose? A certain valuing o f arcane, if not to say pedantic, knowledge for its own sake is certainly characteristic o f the Hellenistic literary milieu; on the other hand, unusual textual variants, h a p a x l e g o m b n a , and instances of irregular usage can be used to address a problem these poets may have become acutely conscious o f in the course of their scholarly activities, as we who study Archaic and Classical Greek poetry today become in ours, i.e., the difficulty o f determining if passage A

alludes to linguistically (and thematically etc.) similar passage B, or if both passages draw upon the same common storehouse o f traditional lan­ guage (and t y p e - s c e n e s etc.). Inserting into your new text A a unique word or variant reading from text B is a way o f making the debt and reference clear. The Hellenistic poets found ways to exploit such niceties in their own poems, bringing to bear techniques of scholarship they were themselves helping to develop. The precision with which the Alexandrian scholar-poet can point to (and trian­ gulate among) specific passages o f Homer and his heirs is both remarkable and new; the impact of this technique on subsequent poetry cannot be overestimated. The Hellenistic period also sees the emergence of new genres, some o f which have been either inspired or at least influenced by models identi­ fied in Homer. For example, the fiercely insulting “amoebic” exchanges between herdsmen that make up paradigmatically “pastoral” poems like Theocritus 4 and especially 5 can be seen to have a precedent in the antagonistic encounter between the cowherd M e l a n t h i o s and the swineherd E u m a i o s in Odyssey 17.238-254; cf. the “herds­ man” P o l y p h e m o s ’ speech to his favorite ram at 9.446—460. Similarly, the “literary” epitaph, i.e., one detached from an actual grave, and eventu­ ally from an actual person, begins to appear in the Classical period, and becomes a standard exercise o f Hellenistic poets (Gutzwiller 2007, 106-119; Fantuzzi and Hunter 2004,283-349); many of the elements are already to be found in the taunting speeches spoken over dead or vanquished ene­ mies in Homer: e.g., second-person address to a non-responding addressee; detailed biographical knowledge, especially o f a geographical nature; and a certain streak of whimsy (typically, in Homer, rather cruel). Thus, for example, A c h i l l e s addresses Iphition, whom he has just killed, “You lie here, son of Otrynteus. .. ” and continues with surprisingly detailed knowledge o f the victim’s home {II. 20.389-392); the (perhaps early 3rdcentury) poetess Moero uses this same sepulchral opening for a different kind o f addressee: “You lie here, grape bunch. . . ” and then moves to another Iliadic theme: “nor yet again will your mother [i.e., the vine] cast around you a fair shoot and send forth a honeyed leaf to cover your head,” which recalls O d y s s e u s vaunting over his victim S o k o s that “your father and mother will not close

RECEPTIO N, ROMAN

your eyes for you” {II. 11.452-453; cf. GVI 1827). This kind of reworking o f Homeric material is a constant feature o f Hellenistic poetry, and a con­ stant source of delight for its admirers. In sum, Homer’s presence in Hellenistic litera­ ture is profoundly ubiquitous; the fundamental recent treatment is Cameron (1995; cf. Fantuzzi and Hunter 2004). See also

L it e r a r y C r it ic is m , H e l l e n is t ic a n d

R om a n ; Alexa n d er t h e G reat an d H o m er . HAYDEN P E Ll.lC C IA

Reception, Roman The evidence for Homeric reception in Italy begins via Greek c o l o n i z a ­ t i o n : the famous “ N e s t o r ’s C u p ,” with an i n s c r i p t i o n apparently referring to the cup of Iliad 11.632-637, was found in a burial dating from the 8th century d c e on the Bay of Naples (see Fig. 21). Etruscan art represented Homeric episodes from both I l i a d and O d y s s e y from the 6th century b c e onwards; the François Tomb from Vulci (4th century b c e ) depicts A c h i l l e s sacrificing captives to P a t r o k l o s (cf. II. 23.174177), while the Tomba dell’Orco at Tarquinii (also 4th century b c e ) shows the blinding of the C y c l o p s (cf. Od. 9.382-397) (see Fig. 15). Homer is also prominent at the beginning of Roman lit­ erature: Livius Andronicus’ Odysseia, o f which only some scattered fragments survive, dates from the second half of the 3rd century b c e , and seems to have been a fairly close t r a n s l a t i o n of the Odyssey, adapting it for Roman readers by introducing the Latin “Ulixes” for its hero, replac­ ing the Greek M u s e s with the Latin “Camenae” and the Greek m o i r a with the goddess Morta, and using the archaic Latin. Saturnian meter. Cicero described it as a “work o f Daedalus” {Brutus 71), presumably meaning that it was overartificially constructed. Perhaps a generation later, in the first third of the 2nd century b c e , Homeric epic clearly played a major role in the classic Annales o f Ennius (d. 169 b c e ) , the great epic o f Roman history from A e n e a s ’ escape from T r o y to Ennius’ own life­ time, again known to us only through fragmen­ tary quotations; this was the first poem we know of in Latin to replace the Saturnian line with Homer’s own hexameter m e t e r . This was one of

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several gestures towards the poem’s major literary ancestor: its opening sequence seems to have presented Ennius via a dream-sequcnce as the successor or even reincarnation of Homer (Lucr. 1.117-126; Hor. Epist. 2.1.50), and its many b a t t l e t S C e n e s clearly made liberal use of the war-narrative o f the Iliad. Homeric i n t e r t e x t u a l i t y was a natural ele­ ment in later Latin poets: Lucilius (d. 102 b c e ) , makes comic allusion to the Homeric epics in the extensive fragments of his satires, and the two great surviving poets of the generation before Horace and V e r g i l , writing in the 50s b c e , Catullus and Lucretius, are clearly well versed in Homer. Apart from echoing Homeric language in his archaic epic diction, Lucretius’ Epicurean application of traditional poetic myth includes Homeric allusions to the gods’ paradisiacal life on O l y m p o s as removed from human concerns (3.19-22; cf. Od. 6.42-46) and to theCHiMAiRAas an impossible m o n s t e r (5.904-906; cf. II. 6.180182). In his most ambitious hexameter poem, the 408-line epyllion on P e l e u s and T h e t i s (64), Catullus both takes on the mythological back­ ground to the Iliad and echoes some details from the epic (e.g., A r i a d n e ’s description of T h e s e u s as a hard-hearted son of the sea [64.155], picking up Patroklos’ accusation of Achilles at II. 16.34-35). Writing in the same period, though almost a gen­ eration older than Lucretius and Catullus, Cicero shows an easy familiarity with Homer in his many works, even translating K a l c h a s ’ prophecy of the sparrows and the snake (Div. 2.30.64 = II. 2.299330) and the song o f the S i r e n s (Fin. 5.49 = Od. 12.184-191). Vergil’s extensive use of Homer has been exam­ ined elsewhere (see V e r g i l a n d H o m e r ) ; Horace’s engagement was more limited and ironic, con­ cerned with stressing the difference between his own literary concerns and forms and the grander character of the epic. In Odes 1.6 Horace presents an amusing parody of Iliadic battle-narrative to stress his own unsuitability as a military panegyr­ ist, while in Satires 2.5 he parodies O d y s s e u s ’ U n d e r w o r l d consultation o f T i r e s i a s by repre­ senting it as a course of instruction in legacy­ hunting; in Epistles 1.2 he adapts Homer to the philosophical frame o f his collection by present­ ing morally a l l e g o r i c a l readings of both Iliad and Odyssey, while in the Ars Poética he praises Homer for plot construction (140-152) but

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famously notes (359) that even the great man can “nod” in making errors. Amongst other Augustan poets the most nota­ ble user of Homer is Ovid. His early elegiac Heroides (perhaps published shortly after the Aeneid) begin with a letter from P e n e l o p e to the absent Odysseus urging his return, and their third letter presents the plea of B r i s e i s to Achilles after her appropriation by A g a m e m n o n : in both cases we are shown the female elegiac perspective on male epic heroism. In his epic Metamorphoses, written much later in his career (early I st century c e ) , Ovid shows a typically witty determination to cover the events of the Iliad in Book 12 while refusing to echo Homer’s narrative directly, focus­ ing on d i g r e s s i o n s and on parts of the plot unemphasized in or added to the original, and self-consciously deploying material on the Troy saga drawn from the Epic C y c l e rather than the Iliad. For the post-Augustan epic poets, the Neronian Lucan and the three Flavians Statius, Valerius Flaccus, and Silius, Homer is naturally part of their literary repertoire and is regularly used for standard epic features such as s i m i l e s and descriptions. There are also adaptations at the level o f whole scenes, despite evident differences of subject matter. For example, Lucan adapts the scene from Iliad 2.278-332 where Odysseus encourages the Greeks to remain at Troy (see P e i r a ) in Cato’s plea to his troops at De hello civili 9.253-284; Statius models the defense of the body of T y d e u s at Thebaid 9.1-195 on the battle about the body o f Patroklos in Iliad 17; Valerius fashions J a s o n ’s meeting with Medea at Argonautica 5.378-390 after Odysseus’ encoun­ ter with N a u s i c a a (Od. 6.149-185); and Silius’ river Trebia, choked with bodies, rises in anger like the S k a m a n d r o s River in the Iliad and similarly requires suppression by the interven­ tion of HEPHAISTOS/Vulcan (Punica 4.638-689; II. 21.330-382). “Lower” literary genres continue the tradition o f Lucilius and Horace in engaging in ironic play with and parody o f the Homeric epics. The plot of Petronius’ novel Satyrica, from the Neronian period, presents its wastrel protagonist Encolpius as a low-life version o f Odysseus, afflicted with impotence as a divine curse from Priapus just as Odysseus is persecuted by P o s e i d o n with shipwreck, a point underlined when Encolpius

engages in an unsuccessful love-affair with a woman named K i r k e ; similarly, the vulgar mil­ lionaire Trimalchio who hosts Encolpius and his worthless friends to dinner tries to display knowledge of Homer, but ends up spouting far­ cically garbled versions of the plots of the Iliad and Odyssey. Likewise, Petronius’ contemporary Seneca cites Homeric lines in Greek and makes free play with the Homeric panoply of Olympian g o d s in his Menippean prosimetric satire Apocolocynctosis on the apotheosis of Claudius, just as he shows clear further Homeric knowledge in his extensive range of other works. Juvenal’s opening satire ( c a . 1 0 0 c e ) presents a modern boy racer as matching Achilles’ chariot­ eer on the via Flaminia (1 .6 0 -6 1), while his sixth argues that even the aged P r i a m would be sexu­ ally excited by the erotic dance of a dissolute aris­ tocratic woman (6.326), and his tenth argues that Priam would have been better off dying before the terrible events of the Iliad (10.258-264). Similarly irreverently, the second great Latin nov­ elist, Apuleius, writing his Metamorphoses in the second half of the 2nd century c e , follows Petronius in deploying parody o f Odyssean char­ acters: the hero Lucius’ experiences as a young man abroad before his metamorphosis into an ass present him as a more obtuse and undiplomatic version of T e l e m a c h o s ; the heroic TIepolemus defeats his fiancde’s bandit captors by infiltrating their cave in Odysseus-style disguise; and the sadly unperspicacious Lucius himself invokes the opening o f the Odyssey in unrealistically claiming that he gained knowledge from his time as an ass as Odysseus had from his w a n d e r i n g s (9.13; see P r o e m s ).

Between the 2nd century c e and the end of the Western Roman Empire in 476 c e , Latin writers are less likely to engage with Homer directly, but several exceptions to this may be found in poets o f the 4th and 5th centuries c e . The poetic out­ put of Ausonius (d. ca. 390 c e ) shows occasional knowledge of Homer in some details, not least in Ausonius’ Greek verse, and even includes short Latin elegiac epitaphs for a series o f heroes from the Iliad. Likewise Claudian (d. ca. 404) deploys Homeric material in his short epics, above all in similes and descriptions (e.g., De Rapta 2.209213; Sext.Cons.Hon. 453-454). But the Latin epics which ushered in the new Christian era, the Gospel paraphrases o f Juvencus (written before

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330 c e ) , the allegorical Psychomachia of Prudentius (d. ca. 405 c e ) and Sedulius’ Paschale Carmen on the life of Christ (ca. 435 c e ) , show little trace of Homer in their extensive use of pre­ vious epic tradition and are generally limited to Latin models. Homer was largely known to the Greekless Middle Ages in the form of the Ilias Latina, an undistinguished epitome of the Iliad in 1,070 hexameters written before the death of Nero b y one Italicus (see R e c e p t i o n , i n L a t i n M i d d l e A g e s ).

Re ferences and Suggested Readings For the most extensive survey of the use of Homer in Latin poetry see Scaffai and Tolkiehn 1992; for a briefer stimulating survey of Homeric reception at Rome see Farrell 2004. On Homer in early Roman epic see Goldberg 1995; on Homer in the Roman novels see Harrison 1999: xxiii, xxxv; on Homer and Lucan see Lausberg 1985; on Homer in Flavian epic see Juhnke 1972. S T E P H E N J . H A R R IS O N

Reception, Imperial Perhaps the most tangible indicator of a change in the reception of Homer in the late Republic and Principate is the appear­ ance of copies of the poems that include the scho­ lia minora, marginal notes of an elementary nature, suitable for use by teachers o f reading, writing, and basic grammar and language skills (Cribiore 2001,210; see S c h o l i a ) . The I l i a d and O d y s s e y had long been s c h o o l t e x t s by the time o f Augustus, but the existence o f copies of the poems equipped with annotation addressed to elementary teachers signals a substantial increase in the scale o f e d u c a t i o n based on Homer. What A l e x a n d e r had started, the Romans completed: Greek culture and Greek language had ceased to be ethnically defined. Homer was the common cultural property o f a Greek world that included Egyptians and Syrians in the East, as well as the elites o f Italy and the West. To be educated was to know Greek and to know Greek was to know Homer. The scholia minora are evidence, simultane­ ously, o f the widespread use of the Iliad, in par­ ticular, as an elementary Greek text, and o f the new difficulties encountered by students o f that text. This is a reminder that, as a “first author,” Homer always had a role similar to that of Shakespeare in the traditional pedagogy of

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English. Both stand as ideals of eloquence, and neither is useful as a model for imitation in the immediate context. Remote in time, each repre­ sents the elegant diction of an age made exem­ plary in retrospect. As a cultural property shared by all of those who knew Greek, the epics attracted an everincreasing variety of ancillary, explanatory texts. The Essay on the Life and Poetry o f Homer attrib­ uted to P l u t a r c h (Kindstrand 1990; Keaney and Lamberton 1996; see P s . - P l u t . D e H o m e r o ) is an excellent indication of the knowledge deemed essential for a reader of Homer in the high Empire. The text as we have it probably belongs to the 2nd or perhaps the 3rd century c e and is organized around the hyperbolic principle that Homer is the source of all philosophy, science, and rhetoric (Keaney and Lamberton 1996, 9-10). In practical terms, it is the latter field that predominates, and the essay as a whole sandwiches Homer’s posi­ tions on physics, ethics, dialectic, and theology between an extensive treatment o f his diction (dialects, tropes, and figures) and a rich account of the craft of rhetoric, as founded by Homer. Final sections on Homer’s knowledge of law, eth­ ics, military tactics, and medicine precede the closing panegyric, and one has the impression that many other fields of human endeavor could be added to the list. This period likewise saw a rebirth of interest in Homeric theology, though it is difficult to specify just which readers shared these concerns. The Homeric Problems o f H e r a c l i t u s (Russell and Konstan 2005), which are traditionally dated to the 1st century c e , but might well be later, reopen a debate that goes back to the 6th century B C E , when X e n o p h a n e s o f C o l o p h o n attacked Homeric theology as anthropocentric and implausible, as well as immoral. The issue sur­ faced in the literature o f the 4th century b c e in the Republic of P l a t o , where it appears to mark the watershed between archaic (Homeric) theol­ ogy and the demands o f the Greek enlightenment. But why, half a millennium later, should it be necessary once again to muster an arsenal of a l l e g o r i c a l i n t e r p r e t a t i o n s in order to defend Homeric theology? This peculiar text must be situated in the period o f accommodation of Homer to Christian education (see R e c e p t i o n , E a r l y C h r i s t i a n ) , but its exact place in that process is difficult to specify.

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Less ambiguous, and more tendentious, is the position o f the last polytheist defense o f Homeric theology, in theNeoplatonistProclus’ Commentary on the Republic (5th century c e ) (see N e o p l a t o n i c I n t e r p r e t a t i o n ) . There, after demanding that his audience preserve the secrecy of his interpre­ tations, this representative of a dying interpretive community expounds the “true” theology of Homer, behind its screen o f obscenities, immo­ ralities, and inconsistencies - a screen which, by implication, was impenetrable to “those in power” (as the later polytheists designated the Christians). This late polytheist text represents a reaction against a period when, for purposes o f education at least, the Christians were firmly in control of the meaning of the Iliad and Odyssey and had definitively stripped them of the theological authority that Proclus would restore. A fruitful comparison may be drawn with an earlier Neoplatonist essay in Homer interpreta­ tion, P o r p h y r y ’ s On the Cave o f the Nymphs in the Odyssey (3rd century c e ) (Seminar Classics 1969; Lamberton 1983). In this simultaneously literary and religio-historical study, an obscure but exceptional short passage of the Odyssey (13.102-112) is revealed as the key to the larger meaning of the Troy tale. It is the story of an “intellectual” (noeros) soul ( O d y s s e u s ) which has set out on its journey from this world (meta­ phorically, the war, and then the sea of matter in flux) to its stable home, the goal indicated by T i r e s i a s , where all experience of the “sea of matter” has been wiped away. Porphyry, in the 3rd century, represents a moment in the history of the reception o f Homer when the Roman Empire had made the Iliad and the Odyssey into a common intellectual property, whose interpretation had not yet been preempted by any single interpretive community. The epics might be found to express a variety of views of everything from politics to the fate of souls, and mustered as support for a wide range of claims and points of view. This Homer, the product of the Roman Empire, was to have an important afterlife in the later Middle Ages and Renaissance. It is also during the Imperial period that we find the beginnings of l i t e r a r y c r i t i c i s m as we know it. The essay On the Sublime that reaches us under the name of Longinus (Russell 1968; see P s . - L o n g i n u s ) is difficult to place in any secure context, but whether it belongs to the 1st century

or to the 3rd, it calls attention to qualities o f the text to which earlier readers seem to have been insensitive, and here for the first time the imagi­ native range of Homer’s discourse finds an artic­ ulate admirer. The display rhetoric o f the “Second Sophistic” also found a place for literary criticism and so, inevitably, for appreciations o f Homer, conspicuous among which is the 53rd Oration o f Dio Chrysostom. Here, Homer is praised for his “beautiful and wise” verses (in that order, DC 53.1) and Plato’s theological criticisms are respectfully set aside with the observation that Homer may, in the offending passages, have been cryptically expressing ideas about natural phe­ nomena, rather than about the gods. It is difficult to choose between Plato and Homer, “two friends, both revered” (DC 53.3). The verses o f Homer have, in any case, carried the sufferings of P r i a m as for as India (DC 53.7) More important than these studies, which mark both Homer’s great immediate appeal and his increasing remoteness in time, are the inces­ sant q u o t a t i o n s and p a r a p h r a s e s of Homer with which the Greek prose o f the Empire was increasingly larded. Often compared to the use of Scripture in Christian prose, this use of Homer is in fact something quite different (and was even­ tually to be no less a characteristic of Christian than of polytheist Greek). What these citations indicate is the universality of Homer in the intel­ lectual world of the Roman Empire - the status, guaranteed by education, of the Iliad and Odyssey as the common property o f speakers and readers o f Greek, and at the same time as an ideal of dic­ tion. The authority such allusions and citations won for a text was cultural and aesthetic rather than religious, and the text alluded to was a repository not so much of truth as of sublime expression. References and Suggested Readings Lamberton and Keaney 1992; Cribiore 2001. RO BER T LAM BERTON

Reception, Early Christian Homer was targeted by Christian apologists of the 2nd century intent on proving that the gods were inventions, insofar as he and H e s i o d were believed to have devised their names and genealogies. His epics also proved

RECEPTION, EARLY CHRISTIAN that the gods were corporeal and imperfect, phys­ ically and morally (e.g., Athenagoras, Leg. pro Christ. 17, 21). Here the apologists relied on Homer’s ancient philosophical critics; for exam­ ple, the relevant fragments of X e n o p h a n e s are preserved in Clement of Alexandria. On a meta­ physical level, some believed that Homer’s gods were malevolent “demons" (the epics call them that, though the word daimôn had subtly changed in meaning) who wanted to deceive and destroy mankind. Most apologists knew, however, that “poetic" conceptions of the gods were soft tar­ gets, and so attacked the philosophers’ allegorizations too (see A l l e g o r i c a l I n t e r p r e t a t i o n ) . Homer was also implicated in chronological polemics. Though he was the “oldest o f the [Greek) poets and historians,” it was calculated that he still lived after Moses, thereby making “barbarian wisdom” prior to its Greek counter­ part and, implicitly, its source (Tatianos, Ad Gr. 31). In this way it could be suggested that Homer reflected Christian doctrines, a strategy that made the latter seem less radical to pagan audiences (e.g., Theoph. AdAutol.). This approach relied on the apologetics of Hellenistic Judaism (see P h i l o o p A l e x a n d r i a ) . S o Homer could be either bad or good, alternative modalities that have echoed unto modern times. Homer was more in the background of early Christian concerns rather than their focus. The epics’ historicity was questioned all around and was not the main issue in these debates (Christians could even accept the stories, so long as they were euhemerized). When it came to theology, hardly anyone took them literally. In this sense, P l a t o was a more important site of contestation (though Christian attacks probably in part motivated Proclus to defend the poet in his Commentary on Plato’s Republic). Moreover, while Homer was regarded by some as inspired by the M u s e s , he was not the equivalent of the Gospels, and other texts competed for divine authority among pagan thinkers, such as oracles, Chaldaean Oracles, Hermetica, and others. Homer lacked their eso­ teric appeal (cf. Porph. Phibsophy from Oracles ff. 304-305) as, in late antiquity, his poems remained the basis of primary e d u c a t i o n . It was through them that students learned how to read. Inevitably, some Christian authors quoted him instinctively to illustrate their points and embel­ lish their rhetoric; they lifted his images to express

715

new ideas (the S i r e n s as temptation; the virtuous Christian as O d y s s e u s tied to the mast of faith); and his vocabulary crept into theological discus­ sions. Yet the apologists argued that one could not actually use Homer as a guide to a virtuous life, in contrast to the Gospels. It was well under­ stood by the Church Fathers that the virtues expounded by Jesus and Paul were the opposite of those of an A c h i l l e s and even an Odysseus. By the 3rd century, some were worrying about the poet’s effect on students and proposed a new Christian curriculum. The Apostolic Constitutions commanded the faithful to “stay away from gen­ tile books ... What is lacking in the law of God that you turn to those ethnomyths'i If you want to read about history, you have the books o f Kings; if you want something wise and poetic, you have the Prophets, Job, and the author o f Proverbs” (1.6). These anxieties did not displace Homer, yet there did develop an alternative scriptural cur­ riculum based on the Psalms that was adopted by some monasteries (when they included schools) and monastic orphanages. Some Byzantines deemed this more appropriate for girls than the lewd tales of Greek gods. Religion and education came together in the thought and policies of the last pagan emperor, Julian (361-363), who reasoned that the Greek classics were written by men inspired by the gods and could not be taught by Christians with a good conscience. Homer was among Julian’s favorite authors: in his own works the emperor cast him­ self in the guise of Homeric characters and rev­ eled in the epics’ world and images for their own sake, not always mediated by allegory. As he viewed Homer as a fundamental component of the pagan Hellenic tradition, he was worried that the rise of an educated Christian elite would dis­ member the unity of the epics’ theological, moral, and literary authority, and keep only the last. One response came from the Apollinarioi, a fatherand-son pair of teachers, who rewrote Scripture in classical genres, including an epic Pentateuch. This was an attempt to sever form from content. A more vehement response came from Gregory of Nazianzos, who loved Hellenic paideia and argued that it was not entirely contaminated by paganism: there were aspects of literary culture that Christians could enjoy with good conscience. In his own works, Gregory made a demonstration of this Christian-classical culture. In his Invectives

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against Julian, he employed so many classical ref­ erences and allusions (many of them to Homer) that in the 6th century Pseudo-Nonnos had to write a commentary to explain them for Christian readers. So Gregory may have turned Homer against Julian, but he also made it so that his ene­ mies at the other extreme, those Christians who condemned Hellenism, had to come to terms with classical culture. For Gregory too, Homer was both good and bad, depending on the cir­ cumstance and whom he was addressing. A different response to the problem o f religion and education came from Gregory’s associate Basil of Caesarea. In his Address to Young Men on How They Should Study Greek Literature (a classic in Byzantium and early modern Europe), he presents a deceptively simple thesis: like Odysseus who blocked his ears against the Siren song, Christians should ignore the bad elements in Greek literature and emulate only the good. Basil illustrates this practice with examples, but many (like that of Odysseus) he subtly distorts (Fortin 1996). Instead of castigating the pagan aspects of Homer, which would have drawn attention to the problem, it seems that Basil’s strategy was to amel iorate what young Christians would inevi­ tably encounter: he suppressed the texts’ pagan­ ism and cast classical education as a moral exercise. He himself, while well educated, made no provision for such instruction in his monastic foundations. As the Church became established, Christians felt less insecure about the classics. It was increas­ ingly realized that scriptural authors, especially St. Paul, had classical backgrounds, legitimating such study by Christians. Despite the occasional condemnation by purists, the structure and con­ tents of education remained largely unchanged. A tomb-epigram of Bishop Patrikios, dated to 362 (so during Julian’s reign), was written in h e x a ­ m e t e r s and Homeric vocabulary (Usher 1997, 318-319). In the second quarter of the 5th cen­ tury, the empress Eudokia paraphrased the Octateuch in Homeric verse and wrote the long­ est Homeric c e n t o yet, this about the Fall, Incarnation, and Resurrection. Even a Psalter was rewritten in Homeric verse, likely in Alexandria; the goal of the exercise was apparently to rely as much as possible on epic vocabulary (Golega 1960). A crop of Homeric poets emerged in Egypt in the 5th century (Cameron 1965), including

Nonnos of Panopolis and Christodoros of Koptos. Whether they were Christians or not, they were writing for a mostly Christian society. Nonnos composed a hexametric narrative in forty-eight books on the adventures of D i o n y s o s in India; he may or may not have also composed a hexametric p a r a p h r a s is of the Gospel of John in twentyone books, one per chapter. Christodoros wrote an epic on the emperor Anastasios’ Isaurian wars and a hexametric e k p h r a s i s of the statues in the Zeuxippos baths at Constantinople (ca. 500 c r ) . He presents himself as a “descendant” of Homer (whose statue receives the longest description) and Anastasios as a “descendant” of Pompey the Great (Anth. Pal. Book 2). Homer was the bedrock of the classicizing literary culture of the 6th century, as evinced by the vocabulary and output of Dioskoros of Aphrodito (Egypt), a local Christian notable. He was one of the owners of the Cairo Iliad codex and of a codex o f the Scholia minora (Fournel 1999). Close reading of the historian Prokopios whose own religion was ambiguous - reveals that he expected some readers to know Homer by heart and b e able to perform i n t e r t e x t u a l com­ parisons. While apologetic denunciations never ceased on the Christian side, a book of prophesies ascribed to the Jewish Sibyl found on Cyprus by Ioannes Lydos predicted that God would resur­ rect a wise man who wrote about the war of the heroes; Lydos took this to be an obvious reference to Homer (Mens. 4.47). See also

R

e c e p t io n

, B

y z a n t in e

.

References and Suggested Readings For Christianity and classical literature, see Droge 1989; Pelikan 1993; KaldeUis 2007, ch. 3. A N TH O N Y K A LD ELU S

Reception, in Rabbinic Judaism Homer is the only Greek author mentioned by name in rab­ binic literature. Throughout this vast corpus, four references are made to the “Books of Hameras” (Lieberman 1950, 100-114). Because of their stereotypic character, these references may testify to the rabbis’ recognition of the Homeric books as the basic, or even holy, literary corpus of the Greeks, but cannot supply us with any further information about actual knowledge of Homer

RECEPTION, BYZANTINE among the rabbis. Quite surprisingly, despite their conspicuous pagan character there is no explicit condemnation of the books of Homer; moreover, in one place the Talmud asserts that one is allowed to read them since it is like reading "a letter,” i.e., a neutral, non-heretical, book (pt. San. 10:1, 28a). Later in that passage, the Talmud states that the books mentioned were “given” to be studied in a certain mode. Some scholars inferred from this that the books of Homer were read within rabbinic circles (Lieberman 1950, 108-110). However, according to an accurate ver­ sion of the text it is more likely that the books referred to were not the books of Homer (Naeh 2007, 243-249). While it is quite certain, then, that Palestinian rabbis allowed the reading of Homer, we have no hint about actual reading of these books by the rabbis. Some of the rabbis were acquainted, to differ­ ent degrees, with Greek language and culture, and may even have had an awareness of some aspects of Homeric studies. In their treatment o f the bib­ lical text, they employed preservation methods and hermeneutical techniques similar to those used by Alexandrian commentators of Homer (Lieberman 1950, 20-99; Daube 1953) (see A l e x a n d r i a n S c h o l a r s h i p ) . It is also plausible that the organization of the Jewish Bible into twenty-four books (the only system known in rabbinic literature) followed the Greek paradigm o f the division o f the I l i a d and O d y s s e y (Darshan 2007; see B o o k D i v i s i o n ) . According to a rabbi of the 2nd century c e , children of the rabbinic elite received Hellenic education (b. BQ. 83a). If we accept his testimony, we should assume some knowledge o f the Homeric text in these cir­ cles. Nevertheless, the actual use o f Homeric motifs in rabbinic literature is very rare and sparse. The use o f popular motifs, like the S i r e n s (Sifra 49d) or the C e n t a u r s (GenR. 23:6), does not indicate a direct knowledge of the literary text. O f more significance is the Homeric expres­ sion “run over the topmost ears of corn without breaking them” (II. 20.227), which appears in the Midrash in a different context (EcclR. 9:11), but this too may reflect a popular or rhetoric apho­ rism (Lieberman 1950, 113-114). Finally, it has been suggested that the motif of God’s porphyfy decorated with the acts o f the martyrs (Mid. Ps. 9:13) is derived from the story o f H e l e n ’ s embroi­ dered web (II. 3.25-28; Liebes 2006,86-88). These

71 7

scarce and thin examples, even if considered as evidence for a sort of literary influence on the rab­ bis, do not allow for any substantial conclusion about the actual acquaintance of the rabbis with the Homeric text. The first Hebrew t r a n s l a t i o n of the Homeric poems, by Shaul Tchernichovsky, appeared in the 1920s. References and Suggested Readings Generally, the question o f “the rabbis and Homer” emerges within the broad discussion o f the Greek influ­ ence on Palestinian and rabbinic ludaism, which presents a full spectrum of scholarly opinions from the minimalists, like Alon 1958,248-277 and Feldman 1993, to the maximalists, like Hengel 1991. The primary and still important, comprehensive work is Lieberman 1942, 1950, 1974. Alon (above) is a significant and detailed criticism o f Lieberman 1942. A selection o f other gen­ eral discussions: Sevenster 1968; Blidstein 1997; Levine 1998,85-115; Schäfer 1998,1-26; Sperber, 2006. SHLOMO NAEH

Reception, Byzantine Since Classical times, the Homeric epics have been a schoolbook from which pupils learnt reading and writing (see E d u c a t i o n , H o m e r i n ) . The Alexandrians with their detailed philological activity prepared the way for the Byzantine study o f Homer (see A l e x a n d r ia n S c h o l a r s h i p ) . Teachers contin­ ued to teach Homer to a Christian audience in the schools of the 4th century although the Homeric poems were composed in a difficult language which was not spoken anymore. It is impossible to generalize the reception of Homer by Christian intellectuals in the early Byzantine period up to the 8th century. There was a wide range o f attitudes from indifference to the allegorization o f Clement o f Alexandria and the assertion of Homer’s connection to Moses and the Hebrew scriptures by Methodios o f Olympos. In early Christian thought, the Homeric myth is assimilated and Homer, although not praised, is freely exploited by the Church Fathers (Lamberton 1986,242-243). Ethical messages in pagan litera­ ture were identified and appropriated for Chris­ tian education through a process o f selection (see R

e c e p t io n

, E

a r l y

C

h r is t ia n

).

The Homeric epics provided information about the Olympian g o d s and preserved their established religious authority, despite the hostile

718

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approach of monastic writers such as St. John the Psychaite (9th century) or John Kameniates (10th century) (Browning 1975, 18-19). The recogni­ tion of the moral value of the epics gradually increased (for example, Basil was critical of Homeric myth but acknowledged that Homer's poetry was ethical). A process of a l l e g o r i c a l in t e r p r e t a t io n was adopted in order to discover the “hidden meaning” of the Homeric subtext; this interpretation encouraged the exploration of moral principles, the identification of heroes and gods with forces of nature, and the allusion to his­ torical events and characters. Hence, Homer was transformed into a prophet who had access to the secrets of the universe (this image of Homer as a prophet is found in some rare portraits in manu­ scripts analyzed in detail by Pontani 2005c) and was even used to embellish ecclesiastical writing. The high rhetorical value of the Homeric text was emphasized by teachers of rhetoric and writ­ ers who received the main rhetorical principles especially from the I l i a d . Reading aids became necessary for the comprehension of the text in schoolrooms. Pupils learning the poetic text from dictation were helped by interlinear p a r a ­ p h r a s e s , g l o s s e s on hard words, elementary marginal commentaries with more information on mythology and interpretation than on textual criticism (e.g., the 9th-century bT s c h o l i a ) or grammatical commentaries (e.g., the Homeric E p i m e r i s m i ) (Browning 1992b, 137-139; see also S

c h o l a r s h ip

, B

y z a n t in e

).

A scholar needed a more detailed, exegetical commentary with information on textual inter­ pretation, mythology, and a l l e g o r y compiled in the form o f marginal scholia (such as the V e n e t u s A scholia). This exegetical material was presented as authoritative by Byzantine scholars o f the 9th and 10th centuries and generally excludes earlier Christian points of view (Browning 1992b, 139). The 12th century was the most important period for the renaissance of Homeric studies in Byzantium. Together with original scholarly achievements, Byzantine writers and historians from Anna Comnena to NIketas Choniates inclu­ ded Homeric allusions in their works, and para­ phrases achieved great popularity (e.g., Constantine Manasses’ paraphrase: Pontani 2005c, 562). The scholars of this period handled the Homeric text with intellectual confidence. Tzetzes, having stated his authorship in his Commentary on Book

1 o f the Iliad, argued with the ancient scholars. His commentary was characterized by a competitive attitude and asserted itself as a text in its own right (Budelmann 2002). An increasing interest in the subtext was conceived as an opportunity to con­ temporize Homer; in his Homeric Allegories (1146), Tzetzes offers a mixture o f literature and allegorical interpretation. The Homeric epics continued to be popular in schools but they also became literature again, to be read and enjoyed. This new interest in Homer as literature was reflected by Tzetzes’ Carmina Homerica, in h e x a ­ m e t e r with material from the whole of the Trojan C y c l e . T h e O d y s s e y was also read, though less than the Iliad. Several introductions were written for educational purposes, drawing out the moral lessons from O d y s s e u s ’ story (e.g., the PseudoGregoras text: Matranga 1850, 520-524). T h e audience of the 12th century was also interested in enhancing its knowledge about the background of the T ro ja n W a r . Isaac (Isaakios) Komnenos’ Homeric works include two treatises (on The Events Homer Left Out, and a Description o f the Greeks and Trojans a t Troy) and an Introduction to the Iliad. But Isaac’s most origin al work was his edition o f the Iliad, includ­ ing a preface and the text with comments (Pontani 2006). E u s t a t h i u s , archbishop of Thessalonica, prac­ ticed the teaching o f Homer in his own lectures, which inspired him to write his detailed Homeric Disquisitions. In order to facilitate his teaching of Homer, Eustathius reevaluated the definition of myth as a pedagogical instrument and developed allegorical interpretations which made Homeric passages inoffensive to Christian taste and signifi­ cantly influenced the audience’s receptiveness. In the late Byzantine period, although there was intense study o f some classical texts (mainly drama and Pindar), there was no great Homeric textual scholarship. Commentators (like Michael Senacherim) and paraphrasts (like John Pediasimos, Manuel Moschopoulos, and Constantine Hermoniakos) wrote commentaries or allegorical paraphrases, but there were no scholarly works like those of Tzetzes or Eustathius. Interest in the Trojan War remained undimin­ ished among the public. There were compilations of scholarly material and e d i t i o n s with com­ mentary o f the Odyssey (like Gabalas’s treatises and Chrysokokkes’s [1336] copy with his own

RECEPTION, SYRIAC AND ARABIC

719

in ancient times” (Ta'rlhl27,14-15 Sãlhãni). It is not clear whether what is meant by the “two books” is the I l i a d and the O d y s s e y or just the first two books of the Iliad (Kraemer 1956, 261), though it has been argued that the former is the case on the basis of quotations from both epics in aSyriacauthorapparentlywritingafter Theophilus (Raguse 1968; Robert 1971). Nothing of Theophilus’s translation has survived, if indeed it ever existed, but there is little doubt that Syriac­ speaking scholars had wide acquaintance with the Homeric epics and their contents, as is also evi­ dent from the account of the Trojan C y c l e in an anonymous Syriac chronicle o f the 12th century (Nau 1908), which itself may not be unrelated to whatever Theophilus may have translated (Baumstark 1968 [1922], 341). With regard to Arabic, there is not even any report about t r a n s l a t i o n s of Homer. Despite the extensive Greco-Arabic translation movement in Baghdad from the middle o f the 8th century to the end o f the 10th, high literature in general, and References and Suggested Readings Stallbaum 1825-1826 [1970]; Matranga 1850; especially the kind of poetry represented by Boissonade 1851; Hinck 1873, 57-88; Hunger 1955Homer’s epics, were not translated (Gutas 1998, 1956; Van der Valk 1971-1987; Kindstrand 1979; Dyck 194-195). The educated elite and literary person­ 1983-1995. For more on the Byzantine reception of alities o f the Baghdadi society of the time, who Homer see Browning 1975; Lamberton 1986; Browning could have been expected to sponsor such trans­ 1992b; Budelmann 2002; Pontani 2005c and 2006. lations, were quite aware that poetry does not eas­ ANTONY M A KRIN O S ily cross linguistic and cultural boundaries. The great littérateur o f the 9th century, al-Jãhiz (d. 868), put it succincdy, in a sentiment also echoed Reception. Syriac and Arabic The Hellenization by others; “Poems do not lend themselves to of the peoples of the Near East in the millennium translation and ought not to be translated. When between A l e x a n d e r t h e G r e a t and the coming they are translated, their poetic structure is rent; of Islam meant that the literate among the native the meter is no longer correct; poetic beauty dis­ Aramaic-/Syriac-speakers who had a Greek edu­ appears and nothing worthy of admiration cation would also know their Homer to varying remains in the poems” (Rosenthal 1975, 18; see degrees. But there is no evidence that during the ‘Abbas 1977,23-26). Such an undertaking would have also cost too same period Homer was translated into Syriac, due mainly, it would seem, to the antagonistic much, without the sponsor receiving anything of attitude on the part of Syriac-speaking Christians value or use for his money, even if it is certain that the translators, or the best o f them, could have to pagan Greek culture (Brock 1982). This atti­ tude changed to one of assimilation by the 7th produced a creditable version. Any non-native century (mainly because o f the alienating policies Greek speaker in the 9th century who learned towards the Eastern churches by the Chalcedonian classical Greek within the Islamic empire, let Byzantine state), and there is a late and solitary alone in Byzantium, would have studied Homer (see R e c e p t i o n , B y z a n t i n e ) . There was wide­ report by the major Syriac scholar, Barhebraeus (1225-1286), that Theophilus of Edessa (d. 785), spread familiarity with Homeric scholarship the Maronite chief astrologer of the caliph among the translators, the vast majority o f whom al-Mahdi (r. 775-785), “translated from Greek into were Syriac-speaking Christians, as mentioned. Syriac the two books by Homer on the conquest of The most famous of them, Hunayn ibn-Ishãq

commentary). A vernacular epic poem entitled The Trojan War (14th century) (a “free” transla­ tion of Benoit de St. Maure’s Roman de Troie) narrated the complete story of the Trojan War and enjoyed wide popular readership (Browning 1975, 31-33; 1992b, 145-146). Many 14th- and 15th-century m a n u s c r i p t s containing Book 1 of the Iliad, accompanied by interlinear glosses and commentary, record the continuing role of Homer in elementary education. The positive reception of the Homeric epics in the education and scholarship of Byzantium through allegorical interpretation of the text and its subsequent appropriation to Christian ethics and transliteration into minuscule (see T r a n s ­ l it e r a t io n o f B o o k s ) facilitated their reception in the Latin West and the preservation and appre­ ciation of the textual tradition by the Italian humanists (see Scholarship, R e n a i s s a n c e through 17th C e n t u r y ) .

I l io n

720

RECEP TION, SY R IA C AND A RA BIC

(808-873), reportedly knew his Homer by heart (Strohmaier 1980). In their renditions of indi­ vidual Homeric verses which were cited elliptically in philosophical and scientific works, translators on occasion added the rest of the line or provided the context on their own, in order to assist the understanding of their audience who naturally knew nothing about the epics (Margoliouth 1897, 377; Lyons 2002). In a debate with a Muslim scholar about the Muslim claim of the inimitability of the Qur’an, the translator Qustã ibn-Lüqã (d. 912) drew parallels between the collection of the initially orally transmitted Qur’an and the collection of the Homeric epics by Pisistratus (Hashed 2008; see P i s i s t r a t b a n R e c e n s i o n ). And a number of motifs from Homer appear on occasion in Arabic literature, including the story of P o l y p h e m o s (Montgomery 1999), the T r o j a n H o r s e (Rosenthal 1975, 256258), and the age of O d y s s e u s ’ dog (Od. 17.290327; von Grunebaum 1963, 387 n. 30; see A r g o s [1]). Other Homeric motifs in native Arabic epic cycles may owe their appearance to causes other than direct borrowing (references in Lyons 1995, 339-340). Whatever diffusion this information from the translators and others with a Greek edu­ cation found among the learned, it was mostly or essentially oral, which was sufficient to establish in Arabic culture the name o f Homer as the most famous Greek poet, the Greek counterpart o f the pre-Islamic poet Imra’ al-Qays (Kraemer 1956, 285 n. 3). In writing, what was available of Homer was just the verses that happened to be quoted in the works actually translated into Arabic, most nota­ bly in A r i s t o t l e and P s . - P l u t a r c h ’s Placita philosophorunr, the one authentic verse that circulated in Arabic, though mostly anonymously, was the line from Iliad 2.204, o ú k àyaOòv no\uKoipavir| eiç xoípavoç scrru) (“Having many rulers is no good thing. Let there be one ruler”) (Kraemer 1956, 263-287; Krachkovskii 1956; cf. Arist. Metaph. 1076a4). But the fame associated with the name of Homer made a sage of him, and numerous pseudepigraphic sayings were ascribed to him in the Greco-Arabic gnomologia (Kraemer 1956, 287-302) and in the spurious correspond­ ence cycle between Aristotle and Alexander (Grignaschi 1967,225,256-261). The majority of these sayings are actually the iambic trimeter one-liners by Ps.-Menander which were attrib­

uted to Homer in the Arabic tradition after their translation (Kraemer 1956, 302-316; Ullmann 1961, 10 n. 5; Gad'an 1971). The sources of the remaining pseudo-Homeric sayings that do not belong to the Menandrean monostikhoi have not been studied. Some of them are doubtless unre­ lated Greek sayings which in the course of trans­ mission, whether before or after translation into Arabic, were mistakenly attributed to Homer; others are in all probability sayings from Middle Persian wisdom literature (andarz) which in Arabic translation were eventually ascribed to him (cf. Zakeri 2004; van Bladel 2004, 165-168); and still others may well be originally Greek Homeric spuria deriving from compilations in late antiquity (cf. Overwien 2005,96 n. 84). In modern times, attention to the Greek clas­ sics was paid in the Arab world during the 19thand early 20th-century “Cultural Awakening” (Nahda), and classical themes have to this day continued with increasing regularity to play a significant role in modern Arabic literature (Pormann 2006; Etman 2008). The Iliad was ren­ dered for the first time into Arabic, though indi­ rectly from European versions, in a verse translation by the Lebanese Maronite scholar Sulaymãn al-Bustãni (1856-1925), published in Cairo in 1904 (Khoury 1987; Fahd 1993; Pormann 2007, 28-30). The first full translation directly from the Greek was completed just recently under the direction o f the Egyptian classical scholar Ahmed Etman (2004; Pormann 2007, 35-40). The Odyssey, which has appeared in Arabic in a number o f paraphrastic and abridged versions in the course of the 20th century, still lacks a full Arabic translation directly from the Greek (Etman 2008,147; Pormann 2007,33,42). D IM IT R I GUTAS

Reception, in Latin Middle Ages From the 6th century c e until the 14th, 99 percent o f the popu­ lation o f western Europe knew no Greek and thus had no direct access to Homeric epic (Bolgar 1954 [1977], 91-129, 183-198). The complete Latin t r a n s l a t i o n s of the I i i A D and the O d y s s e y had disappeared and all that remained was a Latin abridgement (1,070 h e x a m e t e r s ) believed to have b e e n created in the 1st century c e by one Baebius Italicus. This uninspiring Ilias Latina

RECEP TION, IN LATIN MIDDLE AGES

(Latin Iliad), which reduces Book 9 to ten lines, eliminates the reconciliation between Achilles and Priam in Book 24, and centers the quarrel of Achilles and Agamemnon in Book 1 around caecus amor (“blind love”), competed for atten­ tion with two counter-Homeric accounts of the Trojan War, the History of “Dares the Phrygian” and the Journal of “Dictys of Crete.” Written in Greek probably between the 1st and 3rd centuries ce, and translated into Latin in approximately the 4th and 5th centuries (Merkle 1996, 577-580), they pretended to be the work of participants in the Trojan War. Trojan Dares and Cretan Dictys claimed and achieved an authority superior to that of Homer. As a letter appended to the Latin translation of Dares says, “readers may either ... judge to be truer what Dares the Phrygian committed to memory, he who lived and was a soldier during the time the Greeks besieged Troy, or they may decide that Homer is to be believed, he who was born many years after this was waged” (De Excidio Troiae Historia 1.9-14). There were cultural rea­ sons why many readers preferred to believe these belated fictions rather than Homer’s. First, they eliminated the active participation of pagan gods. Second, by more nearly equalizing the heroism of the Greek and Trojan participants, they provided an opening for later revisions in their relative merit. In Dictys, for example, Achilles kills Hector in a night ambush; in Dares, Hector manages to wound Achilles before being killed. Such revision was important because the Trojans were considered to be the ancestors o f most European peoples, while Achilles and O dysseus were the representatives o f the somewhat untrust­ worthy Eastern half o f Christendom. Third, they tied Achilles’ death to an overwhelming love for Priam’s daughter Polyxena, thus making it possi­ ble to fit him into the roles of chivalric knight and Christian sinner desired by medieval authors and allegorists (King 1987,201-203). And lastly, Dares makes his love for Polyxena the sole cause of Achilles’ withdrawal from battle, thus creating a blameless King Agamemnon who conforms to the cultural requirements of a strict feudal hierarchy. However, despite the poor quality o f the Ilias Latina and the competing claims o f Dares and Dictys, Homer managed to remain the Trojan War poet of record until the mid 13th century.

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Several medieval Latin poems influenced by the Ilias Latina survive: three from the 11th century: Godfrey of Rheims’s “Hector and Achilles” (incomplete at 481 verses), an anonymous “Lament for Hector” (24 couplets), and a 25-verse summary of Odo of Orleans’s several-hundredverse poem; and two from the 12th century: Pierre de Saintes’s “Viribus, arte, minis” (124 verses) and the thousand-verse Ilias of Simon Chevre d’Or (King 1987, 143-158). Pierre de Saintes pays homage to Homer, declaring, “I will be another Homer, or greater than Homer him­ self (Alter Homerus ero vel eodem major Homero)" if he is able to describe all the disasters at Troy (“Viribus” 83-84, du Méril 1843,404). The earliest vernacular redaction of the Ilias Latina confirms that Homer was the poet to sur­ pass. The 13th- century Libro de Alexandre, which includes a 1,712-verse Spanish Iliad as part o f a Trojan War digression within its larger story about A lexander t h e G reat, makes it clear that the Trojan War in general and the career of Homer’s Achilles in particular is the standard by which Alexander’s achievements can be judged and which they can be seen to surpass (Michael 1970,261). This poet does not need to undermine Homer’s authority in order to convey a different message about the events at Troy and the proper end o f human heroism; instead, under cover of that authority, s/he alters context and detail to suggest that Achilles won his immortal fame by damning his immortal soul and that what Alexander truly lacked was not another Homer but Christian ethics (King 1987,149-158). The Libro de Alexandre is the last extant major medieval work on the Trojan War directly to rework Homer. Some fifty years earlier, in 1160, Benoit de Ste. Maure had chosen Dares’s and Dictys’s accounts as the basis for his monumen­ tal Roman de Troie, saying that although Homer was a “marvelous scholar, wise and knowledgea­ ble” (clers merveillos / E sages e escientos), his account could not be trusted since he was not present at the events (1.45-46). Benoit’s 30,000verse romance, full o f love affairs and battles in which not one but two sons o f Priam prove themselves superior to Achilles, was soon trans­ lated into Spanish and German, condensed into moralized French prose, and used as the basis for Italian poems (see King 1987,303, nn. 17-20, for more on these redactions). When Guido delle

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Reception, from the Renaissance to the Enlightenment As distinct from Byzantium, where the Ilia d and the O dyssey had never lost their canonical status (see Reception , Byzantine), for the Western tradition Homer was an acquired taste and, judging by the recep­ tion of his poems in the early modern period, not an effordessly acquired one at that. The reason is simple: throughout the Middle Ages (see the preceding entry) Vergil was being universally read whereas Homer became a mere name. For Dante (1265-1321), he was still“Homer, the sov­ ereign poet” (Omero poeta sovrano: Inferno 88 ), but Dante never had the opportunity to read the Iliad or the Odyssey. The first modern translation of Homer, into Latin prose, was made several decades after Dante’s death. During much of the 15th and 16th centuries it was mostly the schol­ ars who could claim first-hand knowledge of the Homeric poems (see Scholarship, Renaissance through 17th C entury ): so much so that even such an avid reader as Montaigne (1533-1592) had his Homer second-hand (Highet 1949 [1985], 188-189). The true modern reception of Homer began only in the 17th and 18th centu­ ries, with the appearance o f the first t r a n s l a tions of the Iliad and the Odyssey into modern References and Suggested Readings Texts: Baebici Italici Was Latina, ed. M. Scaffai (Bologna: languages. By the time these modern translations started Pàtron, 1982), tr. G. Kennedy, The Latin Iliad: Intro­ duction, Text, Translation, and Motes (Fort Collins, to appear (Chapman’s preliminary translation CO: self-published, 1998); Benoit de Ste Maure, Le o f Iliad 1-2 and 7-11 was published early enough Roman de Träte, 6 vols., ed. L. Constans (Paris: Finnin to be read by Shakespeare: Highet 1949, 197), Didot, 1904-1912); Daretis Phrygii De Excidio Troiae the terms according to which the Homeric epics Historia, ed. F. Meister (Leipzig: Bibliotheca Teubneriana, had been read in the ancient world or indeed in 1873, 1991) and Dictys Cretensis Ephemeridos Belli Byzantium were irrevocably lost. This is made Troiani libri, ed. W. Eisenhut (Leipzig: Bibliotheca especially manifest in the reaction of tne reading Teubneriana, 1973), both tr. R. M. Frazer (Jr.) as The public at the end o f the 17th to the beginning of Trojan War: The Chronicles o f Dictys o f Crete and Dares the 18th century. During this period, the the Phrygian (Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 1966); Guido della Colonne, Historia Destructionis Homeric poems, and especially the Iliad, stood Troiae, ed. N. E. Griffin (Cambridge, MA: Medieval in the focus o f the so-called La Q u e r b l l e d e s Academy of America, 1936); The Libro de Alexandre's a n c i e n s e t d e s m o d e r n b s or, as dubbed in “Iliad” includes stanzas 409-725 of the edition by English by Jonathan Swift, the Battle o f the J. Canas Murillo (Madrid: Editora Nacionale, 1978); Books, a great controversy over the cultural Pierre de Saintes, “Viribus, arte, minis,” in M. E. du Méril canon. Even a cursory examination o f books, (ed.), Poésies populaires latines antérieures au douzième pamphlets, and even poems dealing with the siede (Paris: Brochhaus and Avenarius, 1843), 400-405. issue shows that rather often than not early Further reading. Haskins 1939; Highet 1949;- Bolgar modern readers considered the composition of 1954 (1977); Stanford 1968, 152-156; Michael 1970; the Homeric poems poor, their plot weak, the Clarke 1981; King 1987; Reynolds and Wilson 1991; morals gross, the heroes brutal, the manners Merkle 1996. appalling, and the theology odious (Dejean 1997, 43-44, 95-108). Even such a sympathetic KATHERINE C. KING Colonne translated this work into Latin prose in 1287, thus making it available to vernacular redactors throughout Europe, he also transmit­ ted his own more censorious judgment of Hòmer, condemning him as vile (miser) for having praised Achilles, a man who “never killed any strong man except by deceit” (Historia destructionis Troiae, fo.100, Griffin 1936, 306). At this point Homer’s influence on the Trojan War tra­ dition was nearly extinguished. At this point also, however, an increasing number of scholars were reading classical Latin texts at the universities that had begun to spring up all over Europe (Haskins 1939, passim; Bolgar 1954 [1977], 207-222). Since some of the most important of these texts, like Horace’s Ars Poética, certify Homer as a Very Important Poet, and since no Latin translation of the Odyssey had sur­ vived and the abridged Iliad was clearly inade­ quate, these readers increasingly felt the need to learn Greek. Petrarch apparently tried in 1339 but was unsuccessful (Highet 1949, 16). As a second-best he prevailed upon Boccaccio’s tutor to translate the two epics into Latin some twentyone years later.

RECEPTION, FROM THE EN LIGHTENMENT TO THE 20TH C EN TURY

reader of Homer as Giambattista Vico could not abstain from passing negative judgments as for example the following: “Not wisely behaved was he who aroused in the hearts of the vulgar crowd the feeling of pleasure stirred by the coarse actions of gods and heroes, as for example when we read [in the Iliad] of how, in the middle of the strife [of the godsj, Mars calls Minerva a ‘dogfly’ and Minerva punches Diana, whereas Achilles and Agamemnon, one the greatest of the Greek heroes and the other the leader of the Greek league, call each other a ‘dog,’ the name that in our times would barely appear on the lips of servants in the comedy” (La scienza nuova, 3rd edn., 782; quoted from Nicolini 1953, 730; see also T heomachy). Only towards the end of the 18th and the begin­ ning of the 19th century did new terms establish­ ing the way in which the Homeric poems should be read start to develop. This was inextricably linked with two events of pivotal cultural signifi­ cance - the rise of the historical approach and the emergence of the Romantic movement. As dis­ tinct from the uncritical belief in unchanging human nature held by such earlier defenders of Homer as, e.g., Mme Dacier, one of the leading figures of the anciens, or from the anachronistic criticism by the modernes, who saw their own times as the absolute standard of aesthetic judg­ ment, the new approach proposed treating each historical period as a phenomenon sui generis that is to be interpreted on the basis of its own criteria. Among the initiators of the historical approach were such pioneers of Homeric studies as Richard Bentley and Robert Wood in Britain and Chri­ stian Gottlob Heyne and Friedrich August Wolf in Germany. But it was above all the radical change in the taste of the reading public effected by Romanticism that had firmly established Homer’s position as a canonical author. Together with Shakespeare, Homer was now generally admired as the embodiment of natural genius, and the Iliad became the very poem on which German critics, first and foremost Schiller, built their influ­ ential theories of the objective and the naive. References and Suggested Readings The Battle o f the Books: Highet 1949 [19851, 261-288; Dejean 1997. Homer in English epic: Wilson 2004; Homer in visual arts: Dué 2005. MARGALIT FIN K ELBERG

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Reception, from th e Enlightenment to th e 20th

Century The modern reception o f Homer was marked by two tendencies, and these simultane­ ously clashed with and reinforced each other. On the one hand, Homer was increasingly historicized, that is, made into part of a historical pro­ cess as opposed to being viewed as a singular person: reduced to an element o f history, he no longer occupied the level o f myth, lore, or mysti­ cism as in pre-modern times. This tendency to rational and secular historicity was a general characteristic of Enlightenment. On the other hand, Homer was increasingly idealized, that is, reduced to an ideal rather than a reality, a figure removed from time and history altogether, and thus in ways made a myth o f his own. This, too, was a characteristic o f Enlightenment - its ten­ dency to abstraction and generality. By radicaliz­ ing the Homeric Q uestion , the modern era eliminated Homer altogether. It was thus left to face the two great epics in the absence of their creator, a disturbing prospect. In a word, “Homer” became “Homeric.” And yet, how unified was the “Homeric”? The stamp o f identity, palpable to varying degrees in the poems’ diction, style , psy­ chology, society, culture, and religion , proved difficult to relinquish. As a result, modernity deferred rather than solved the problems it encountered in dealing with a singular Homer. The problems surfaced in the ways the two epics came to be conceived and read, from the univer­ sity to popular venues. One o f the myths o f Enlightenment is that it was F. A. Wolf who had killed Homer. Yet German classicism succeeded in eliminating the poet on its own - for instance by rendering him into a unifying aesthetic principle divorced from his personhood. Thus, for Goethe and Schiller in 1797, the rhapsode offers a serenely detached perspective onto the events he tells, and finally is detached from himself, at least in the eyes o f his audience (so daß man von aller Persönlichkeit abstrahierte): in his verses one hears the “voice of the M uses in general,” but not a personality ("Epische und dramatische Dichtung,” 1.41.2, 223 Weimar edn.) This tendency to conflate Homer with a perspective offered up by the poems, which is to say with their sovereign con­ sciousness, would become a well-rehearsed ele­ ment o f the tradition. Not that all readers o f the epics would surrender Homer the bard without

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qualms. Brownings lament, “Development” (1889), half-heartedly does: “the fiction I, as fact, / Had treasured in my heart and soul so long / ... still hold." Goethe’s epigrammatic poem, “Homer again Homer” (1821), emphatically does not: “[we would I sooner conceive [Homer) as a whole /and joyfully feel him to be a whole” (1.3, 159). As it happened, Homer could be absorbed in different ways into his poems. Thus, for Robert Wood (Homer’s Original Genius, 1767), Homer was a “Painter” in words (an ancient conceit) and a historian (likewise), and he was the one because he was the other. Traveling to the Troad with a copy of the Iliad in one hand and a machete in the other, Wood was able to duplicate Homer’s observations of the Aegean climate, topography, and weather. He could see what Homer had himself seen, and through this synchronization of gazes and experi­ ences, the reality of Homer was affirmed - but also, interestingly, reduced to the vanishing point of his gaze, that is, to a vantage point that could be occupied by future travelers and reanimated by future readers. An eyewitness to the Trojan War, Homer was an objective lens onto a scene. This view, superficially compatible with its STRABO-like predecessors, would later flower in the Romantic worship o f poetic genius, as Coleridge testifies: “There is no subjectivity what­ ever in the Homeric poetry” (Table Talk, 1830; see also Romanticism ). Hegel adopted a simi­ lar position in his Lectures on Aesthetics (1820s). Following Vico and Herder’s poetics of the Volksgeist, Hegel held that Homèr embodied the Greek nation spiritually and aesthetically. Such expressive capacity demanded a powerful nega­ tion, the suppression of Homer’s inner world in favor of a disembodied sovereign objectivity: “Only the product, not the poet, appears__ That is why the great epic style consists in the work’s seeming to be its own minstrel and appearing independently without having any author to conduct it or be at its head” (2,1049, tr. Knox). The poet was dispensable so long as he could be absorbed into the organic framework o f his poems. Not quite an individual or a personality, nor capable of genuine philosophical reflection, Homer or his heroic representation is more like an idea, one that has yet to be conceived. In Bakhtinian terms from the 1930s, epic is strictly monologic, not dialogic: “there is no nucleus

within” the empty shell o f the epic agent, who is what he does and nothing else (Bakhtin 1981,35). Meanwhile, the epic past is “absolute” (15), as walled off from the audience as is the very con­ ception of a Homeric self , so defined, from the modern mind. Identical-sounding descrip­ tions can be found in Lukács and Auerbach , for all their differences (see P hilosophy , C on ­ tem pora ry ). More recent stabs at Homeric psy­ chology have run the full gamut, from blank primitivism (Snell, Fränkel; see B ody ) to a more comfortable assimilation to familiar paradigms of rational agency (B. Williams), whereby Homer’s selves are unified wholes, “just like us.” The chief difficulty throughout lay in accom­ modating Homer’s world in any form to moder­ nity. One source o f satisfaction was to be found in the mutual resonance o f two cultures steeped in vitalism, or so it could be imagined. Thus, Hazlitt (1818) felt that “in Homer the principle of action or life is predominant__ It is bright as the day, strong as a river. In the vigour o f his intellect, he grapples with all the objects of nature and enters into all the relations of social life.” Not even bloody warfare could dent Hazlitt’s rosy opti­ mism: Homer’s heroes go “to battle with a prodi­ gality of life, arising from an exuberance of animal spirits, ... covered with glittering armour, with dust and blood; while the gods quaff their nectar in golden cups, or mingle in the fray” (Essays on the English Poets, 31—32). The thought is practi­ cally Nietzschean, as is the appeal to aesthetic abundance as further proof o f Homeric vitality: “The multitude o f things in Homer is wonderful; their splendour, their force, and variety” (32). Charles Kingsley, the Christian Victorian social reformer, saw in Homer a rare opportunity to draw a different lesson about the rudiments of life, namely physical and moral hygiene. His essay “Nausicaa in London” (Sanitary and Social Lectures and Essays, 1892 [1873]) is a vigorous rant against contemporary social rot, while the Greeks, gleaming in natural simplicity, grandeur, and nudity, form a shining foil against which to measure true civilized health. Nausicaa is a case in point. She is an ideal o f cleanliness, and of “noble maidenhood’: washing her clothes and performing light gymnastics “to the sound of song, as a duty almost, as well as an amusement” (112). “True, [she] could neither read nor write,” Kingsley sighs (1 1 4 )- such is the tell-tale dilemma

REC EP TION, FROM THE EN LIGHTEN MEN T TO THE 20TH CENTURY

of claiming Homer as a pattern of culture, despite his illiteracy and his “half-barbarous” ways. But today’s females go about prettied up with powder and puffery, suffering from various chemical defi­ ciencies (“of phosphatic food” and “hydrocar­ bon”), spending their days huddled over “some novel from the ‘Library,’” swimming in salt water “laden with decaying organisms, ... polluted fur­ ther by a dozen sewers,” lacking in "superfluous life and power,” and unable to “dance and sing.” Imagine such women insisting upon the right to learn Latin or “even Greek”! (120—122). Highminded Victorians were ill-equipped to conceive of Nausicaa in any other way than as a perfect lit­ erary daughter. Whence the scandal caused by Samuel Butler’s screed from 1897 in which he actually nominated Nausicaa as the authoress of the O dyssey . For all her cleanliness, Butler’s Nausicaa is not at all like Kingsley’s. She is rather like Butler himself: “At the same time I think it highly probable that the writer of the Odyssey was both short and plain, and was laughing at herself, and intending to make her audience laugh also, by describing herself as tall and beautiful. She may have been either plain or beautiful without its affecting the argument” (Butler 1897,208). Butler was plainly engaged in a different kind of hygiene from earlier Victorians: he was attempting to cleanse Victorian England of its own mores. Hygiene could take different forms. In philology, purging the texts of Homer meant ridding them of their accreted contaminants (a hopeless task, as Wolf had shown). In cultural, historical, and religious studies of Homer, it meant purging Homer of his least wanted features, the signs o f a rebarbative past or a violent prehistory that was felt to have been more or less removed from the poems but was still legible in them. Gilbert Murray found the Iliad to be ‘“more Homeric’ than the Odyssey" (1934,120) It contained revolt­ ing traces of poison, human sacrifice, cannibal­ ism, tortures, woundings, and so on. Murray’s imagination runs riot along these lines in a study first composed in 1907 and later revised between the two world wars. Was he thinking of Homer or of modern Europe? Reverence for the epics produced what might be called a compromise-formation. Homer was repressed from view, made inaccessible, put as it were “under erasure,” and yet nevertheless the prevailing attitude was not one o f a resigned sur­

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rendering of Homer to the impersonal forces of history, but one of tormented doubt and anguish over doing so to begin with. Homer was too invested with meaning to be given up to dispas­ sionate science. Endowed with an ideal aura, he was even more august and unreachable than he had ever been. As it turned out, the very overcapacitation of meaning that Homer’s texts enjoyed meant that they were protected from being decoded in the present. Thus, for Matthew Arnold (“On Translating Homer,” 1860-1861), Homer was at times more intelligible as an “effect” (Arnold) than he was in his particulars. The task of the modern translator was to convey this effect, above all to the Greekless reader, and not Homer’s often irretrievably lost meanings. Seventy years later, Milman P a r r y adopted Arnold’s theory when he transformed the received paradigm of Homeric oral poetry. The shift to u nitariness - not of the poet, but of his style or else of the poems’ greater realities thus rested on two kinds of argument with two distinct endpoints: the one led to timeless literary glory, the other led to historical realism (albeit in different hues). The two arguments were perfectly compatible, and they often presumed each other, but they could just as easily clash. As a result, the way was paved for a new spate of writing and thinking on the age of Homer and his mores, some o f it empirical, most o f it speculative. Even if Troy was a fiction, Homer’s age was not. Did it represent a pristine, idyllic past (for which the Odyssey was deemed most suited to capture) or a primitive, barbaric childhood of nations (as the Iliad embarrassingly established)? Was it a source of classical humane values (so Shelley in his “Defence o f Poetry” in 1821 and Arnold in 1861) or merely o f historical data (so Grote in 1846)? The avenue o f history ultimately pointed back to a darker, preclassical era (a possibility that S c h liem a n n , N ie t z s c h e , Rohde, and others would foster, while Gladstone, Murray, and others would seek to fend it off) - an uncharted terrain for the Western historical imagination, and something o f a trauma for it as well. And anyway, what was the value o f thinking about a civilization like Homer’s after the Enlightenment? Homer was always something of a riddle for clas­ sicism: he came too early to be classical, but was too paradigmatic and too canonically dominant not to be deemed in some way prototypically

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classical. In consequence, classicism typically failed to confront the question of whether and how Homer fits into the picture of the classical Greek subject, and whenever it tried to it did so awkwardly, from W. von Humboldt and Schiller to Grote and Hegel, and then deep into the 20th century. See also Scholarship, 18th C entury; Scholar­ ship , 19th C entury. References and Suggested Readings Turner 1981, ch. 4; I. Morris 1997a; Webb 2004. JAMES l.

porter

Reception, in the 20th Century What Freud is to O ed ipu s , James Joyce is to O dysseus , when it comes to gauging the cultural significance of a classical myth, or body of literary myths, in the 20th century. The experimental novel Ulysses (1922), with its sustained parallel between con­ temporary narrative and ancient motive structure, pursued, in T. S. Eliot’s landmark acknowledgment of the importance of mythology to the cultural and artistic program of modern­ ism, “a method which others must pursue after him ... It is simply a way of controlling, or order­ ing, of giving a shape and a significance to the immense panorama of futility and anarchy which is contemporary history” (Eliot 1923,483). In the modern and postmodern 20 th century, the status of Homer and Homeric poetry is that o f seismo­ graphs of modernity and its complex relationship with tradition, progress, culture, civilization, and its Other: rupture, innovation, stagnation, vio­ lence, and discontent. The editors of a recent volume have described the matrix of Homeric scholarly and artistic reception in the 20 th century as one where Homer, were he a composer of music, could be classified simultaneously in the “classical” section and in that of “world music” - in other words, Homer inhabits the sometimes dissonant space between a classical Western canon and a global reach in which tradition and modernity are ambivalent categories themselves (Graziosi and Greenwood 2007,4). Within such a matrix, accessibility o f reader or audience to the works of Homer is one key issue,

and a modernist and postmodernist Homer can also be discussed with the use of a scale that car­ ries the labels of elitist and popular at its respec­ tive ends - and its respective temporal ends: whether Homer should be part o f high education or popular culture is as much discussed now as it was in the 1900s. Between Joyce’s Ulysses and Dan Simmons’s sci-fi novel Ilium (2003), some of the concerns over accessibility in their cultural envi­ ronment have stayed the same. Joyce himself, for example, drew much of his knowledge of Homer’s O d y s s e y from the radical translation by Samuel Butler (1900), whose col­ loquial prose, intended for a general audience without access to higher education, was looking back to a late 19th-century discussion of the place of Homer in education, in regard to social issues, and to the role of literature and criticism in soci­ ety (as exemplified, for example, in the debate over Homeric translation and English style between Matthew Arnold and Francis Newman; see also Reception , from the Enlightenment to the 20th century). The language in which Homeric poetry would arrive with an audience posed larger questions about the social and cul­ tural ownership of Homer as a stand-in for canonical art, canonical knowledge, and the social status such knowledge bestowed. That this is not only an issue of class is shown by Alexander Pallis’s 1904 translation o f Homer’s I l i a d into a demotic, folksy Greek rather than into the archaizing neoclassical idiom authorized by the state, which caused a violent episode o f social and political unrest in the streets o f Athens. The status of the people, as much as of a national people, and of their language engaged artistic production throughout the 20th century, and Homer inhab­ ited an ambivalent, and explosive, position (see also Translations). One of the paradigms of Homeric reception ever since antiquity has been the alternating stress on either his otherness and foreignness or the familiarity and tradition in which he makes good sense. Despite all the alienation and archaism that is being ascribed to his world, especially at a time when myth and primitivism as structures of the mind were explored in disciplines such as anthro­ pology and psychology, the modern(ist) Homer was also a traditional text with a fixed body, a known content, a reliable storyline, and a set of well-known and recognizable characters. By the

RECEPTIO N, IN THE 20TH C EN TURY

same token, it was precisely its character as a tradi­ tional oral - d erived epic that became one of the great rallying points of 20th-century Homeric scholarship. In other words, even the “radical” Homer who, since mid-century, had been increas­ ingly studied in the context of non-classical and sometimes non-Western epic traditions, whether of the Balkans, of India or Africa (see O ral T raditions ), is still a Homer of tradition, and it is this recognition value that, to a large extent, has determined the cultural and artistic reception, too. One aspect of the traditional status of Homeric epic was its being representative, even if no longer the normative generic model, of a poetry of war. In the proliferation of world-encompassing war, with its new levels of destruction, technology, and political reasoning for its necessity, the Iliad in particular stood and still stands for a poem about military conflict, violence, and displacement - and the impossibility o f a return to traditional and in this return empty models of heroism. The future of war and loss foreshadowed in Homer’s micro­ cosm o f battle is told in W. H. Auden’s poem “The Shield o f Achilles” (1953), as much as in Christopher Logue’s poetic retellings of the Iliad in a long sequence of published volumes (19622005), or in the Northern Irish poet Michael Longley’s sonnet “Ceasefire” (1994), that put into indirect dialogue a recent [RA ceasefire and Priam ’s ransom of H ector’s body. Jean Giraudoux’s play The Trojan War Will Not Take Place (1935) drily exposes the weakness and futil­ ity of political rhetoric in a time o f war-weariness; his short novel Elpénor (1919; see E lpbnor) in turn privileges the anti-climactic story of the first of the companions of Odysseus to die on the way home from Troy - by falling off a roof. Simone Weil’s philosophical-theological essay The Iliad, or The Poem o f Force (1940-1941) takes force as an inevitable but ultimately dehumanizing human power that fuels the violence of war and is fueled by it in turn in an awful structural dependency. The Greek poet George Seferis’s sequence of poems of a war-torn, post-Trojan modern Mediterranean world in flux, in the collection Mythistorema (1935), shows that displacement can be operative on a personal, artistic, and national level at the same time. At the end of the 20 th century, such innovative scholarly projects as the American psychologist Jonathan Shay’s work on war trauma and Homeric narratives of both

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combat and homecoming show that Homeric reception is never only a question of original text and artistic reflection, but a triangulation that includes scholarly and scientific attitudes as part of the sphere of culture - especially for as long as Homer continues to stand in for a body o f classi­ cal texts perceived as foundational for a Western, modern notion o f civilization. Not just texts of war but canonical Western texts, Homer’s epic poems have also been consistendy questioned as texts of “civilization” - a representative example may be the critical analy­ sis o f Theodor Adorno and Max Horkheimer in their Dialectic o f Enlightenment. First published in exile in New York in 1944, at the end o f World War II, the philosophical essay seeks to understand the modern descent into totalitarianism and identi­ fies in the Odyssey the sequence of a critical, instrumental reason that does away with an older mythological world, yet eventually reaffirms unquestioned authority and regresses back into myth (see also P hilosophy , C ontem porary ). Odysseus, in particular, has served as a figure to think through the condition o f modernity and its critique. The condition o f modernity is to an extent identified with a condition o f nostalgia, itself, literally, indebted to the Homeric topos and narrative structure o f homecoming (nostos). This reflective diagnosis of nostalgia conditioned by past and future upheavals can operate on several levels at once, linking the personal as much as the national or trans-national, the aesthetic as much as the political, whether in Constantine Cavafy’s poem “Ithaca” (1911), where the journey is the point, not the return, or in his prose poem The Ships, which shows artistic insight to be as momentous and fleeting as the riches of cargo carried past on the horizon, rarely putting in anchor; in Botho Strauss’s German post-unifi­ cation play Ithaka (1996); in Theo Angelopoulos’s post-Soviet Balkan film epic Ulysses' Gaze (1995); or in W. G. Sebald’s prose text “II ritorno in patria,” by an author writing on the boundary between languages and places, and published as one part o f a larger reflection on 20 th-century landscape, history, and displacement entitled Vertigo (1990). Homer speaks to the language of knowing exile, whether it be physical or figura­ tive, as much as to the condition of violence. The Odyssey is a text that programmatically addresses and reflects question o f narrative and

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creative speech, and is in that sense much to the sensibility of the 20 th century and its notions of authorship and the self-referential in writing, that was made explicit by early 20 th-century writers and their successors (see S elf Ref e r e n t ia l it y ). It is no surprise that it should be the figure of Odysseus that serves as a signifier of the decidedly modern artist and writer, too. The Odysseus of Dante’s hi/erno and ofTennyson’s well-known poem "Ulysses” (1842) had pushed Odysseus ahead into the role o f the seeker beyond the return home. Nikos Kazantzakis’s The Odyssey: A Modern Sequel (1938) confronts, at 33,333 lines of verse, the anxiety of influence head-on by writing into continuing existence an Odysseus who goes on to explore a cosmic geo­ graphical, historical, and thematic reservoir of epic challenges and encounters (with Jesus Christ and Don Quixote, among others) that render the text a compendium of time, place, and literary knowledge in line with Kazantzakis’ own syncre­ tic metaphysics. A much more ironic comment on the modern condition of writing in the face of canon and tra­ dition is Ernst Jandl’s “odyss among the arm­ chairs” (“odyss bei den polsterstühlen”) (1952), a short, though representative poem, that intro­ duces us to an Odysseus returned and setting himself up to write his journey, an Odysseus who confronts the empty page and the force of a for­ mal and literary tradition that pre-structures what he will have to say, and leaves him in a state of emptiness. Jandl is a poet looking back to the linguistic and artistic issues of the avant-garde, the fragmentation of meaning and sound as brought to ecstatic and playful extremes in Dada and surrealism, which is a reminder that the Homer of the 20 th century, and the dramatis per­ sonae of the Odyssey in particular, is made part of the question of representation in word and image and the crisis of representation explicitly articu­ lated at that time. Franz Kafka’s prose sketch “The Silence of the Sirens” (1917) takes that interest in the power of signification to its most radically discomfit­ ing end: the S iren s ’ answer to Odysseus’ con­ frontation lies in silence altogether. O d ysseus ’ Wa n d erin gs , so dependent on sound as a threat to his progress and on speech as his means of cunning, also become an object of visual interest in the early part of the century, at a time when the

structural language and pictorial norms of com­ position are as much exposed and inverted as are those of verbal representations. Picasso paints a “Ulysses and the Sirens” (1933); Max Beckmann returns to both “Ulysses and Calypso” (1943) and “Ulysses and the Sirens” (1947); Max Ernst has an abstract painting The Sirens Sing When Reason Goes to Steep (1960). To take a subject as characteristically aural as Homeric epic and make it a visual object ties in with the breaking down o f boundaries between the arts, especially in surrealism and the historical avant-garde. But here, the upending of tradition precisely by attaching it to Homer takes place not only between art forms. Louis Aragon’s prose work The Adventures o f Telemachus (1922) is an eroticized coming-of-age story with a surrealist manifesto programmatically added to it, and it rewrites not only the Homeric T elbmachy , but more importantly satirizes François Fénelon’s The Adventures o f Telemachus (1699), itself a canoni­ cal text of moral pedagogy. Homer’s works are not only rarely accessed in an unmediated way, but are consciously approached as part o f a layered canonical tradition; a tradition, moreover, in which Homeric epic is thought to represent stand­ ards of education , progress, and normativity waiting to be subverted. This is as much true of INTERTEXTUAL modernism, as it is of a work like Ralph Ellison’s novel Invisible M an (1953), that maps the urban and political wanderings o f its unnamed African-American hero on the Odyssey as much as on a Dostoevskian underground. The visual focus on the Sirens, Kalypso , and Kirke , as much as the eroticization of T elemachos are one side of the treatment which Homeric women have received. Even before the advent of feminism as an articulated social and artistic program, the figure o f P en elo pe , in particular, spelled the Other o f Odysseus’ aspirations, and since 1922 she has inevitably carried a piece, how­ ever small, of Joyce’s Molly Bloom in her, rather than of the Victorian dutiful wife. Yannis Ritsos’s “Penelope’s Despair” (1968) describes a world of waiting turning to ashes after Odysseus’ home­ coming, and the discord o f expectation; Margaret Atwood’s Penelopiad (2005), almost forty years later, can look back to a sizable 20 th-century group o f Penelopes aware o f their own art and cunning, of their social restraints and their some­ times frustrated, sometimes articulated desires.

RECEP TION, IN V ISU A L ARTS

The artist Kiki Smith’s Tied to Her Nature (2002), in turn, makes clear that g e n d e r need not be dis­ cussed with regard to Homer’s women alone: her bronze sculpture shows a naked woman tied to the ragged belly of a goat, deliberately encroach­ ing on an Odyssean male territory of adventure while exploring expectations of femininity. Aside from cultural politics engaged with the workings and resistance to the workings of the canon, the main innovation in Homeric artistic reception in the second half of the 20 th century probably lies in new media, especially film, and a new focus on the performative side of Homeric epic (see C inema and TV). The involvement of film with Homeric themes is not simply a ques­ tion of making the modern quest theme iconic, as in Stanley Kubrick’s Space Odyssey 2001 (1968), or bringing Homeric epic to the big screen and to modern political sentiments, as in Wolfgang Petersen’s Troy (2004). Rather, it went hand in hand with a realization that filmic techniques are closely related to some o f the narrative and visual strategies employed by the Homeric epics themselves. The attention to the Homeric text not just as an object on the page is also a scholarly and a creative venture alike. Just as research on Homer has focused on the performative strengths and context of epic poetry (see P e r f o r m a n c e ) , that aspect has been recreated on screen and stage. Derek Walcott’s stage version of the Odyssey (1993) may be less well known than his verse nar­ rative Omeros (1990), but both address questions of a modern, living tradition, pointing up the rel­ evance of Homeric epic as a Western canonical text and as a pliable oral-textual multilayered event that can be contracted, expanded, and adapted beyond that context. The 20th century is neither alone nor new in recognizing the fact that the Homeric epics themselves thematize and challenge the act of reception, of repetition and imitation, and the renarration of a past. What distinguishes the 20th century is the sheer insistence with which textual self-referentiality and the precariousness of rep­ resentation are put center-stage. Homer’s very traditionality is constantly up for reinterpreta­ tion, but it remains, at the same time, the source o f fascination. See also C ontem porary T heory .

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References and Suggested Readings For T. S. Eliot’s seminal review of Joyce’s Ulysses see Eliot 1923; on Homer between the canon and world lit­ erature, including the influence of scholarly develop­ ments on public perception of Homer; Graziosi and Greenwood 2007; on Homer as a representative of Western civilization in contemporary American cul­ tural politics, Schein 2007; on Homer and combat trauma, Shay 1994; on literary and artistic variations of Odysseus including the 20th century, E. Hall 2008; on visual representations of Homer, Demont 2005; on Homeric characters, Moog-Grünewald 2008. CONSTANZE G Ü TH EN K E

Reception, in Visual Arts Homer’s I l i a d and returned to western Europe with the Renaissance revival of Greek learning, but the T ro ; an W ar legend had long been familiar and represented in the artistic repertoire through its transmission from Vergil ’s Aeneid, Ovid, and the late antique versions o f Dictys and Dares, which inspired the medieval Trojan romances (see R ec ept io n , in Latin M id d le Ag es ). These accounts were influenced more by the Greek Epic C ycle than the Homeric epics, and, furthermore, favored the Trojan cause over the Greek. The influence of this Latin tradition was widely repre­ sented in the visual arts during the Middle Ages, and continued to provide a popular source of subject matter into the Renaissance and beyond. By the 16th century the Homeric epics were more widely known and the later poets’ debt to Homer was acknowledged in Raphael’s Mount Parnassus (Stanza della Segnatura, Vatican, 1508-1511) where Homer is portrayed frontally, free turned upwards to the sky, with his Roman successors and Dante positioned a little behind and to his side. In the visual arts, Homer provided an additional, rather than a rival, source to the Epic Cycle and the Latin tradition for artists. Homeric influence is detected especially in narrative art such as Pintoricchio’s Penelope with the Suitors (ca. 1509; Fig. 27, p. 730), in which several episodes of O d ysseus ’ adven­ tures are glimpsed through the window behind Penelope , and a disguised Odysseus appears in the doorway, behind the S uitors who approach Penelope at her loom. Francesco Primaticcio designed a cycle o f fifty-eight frescoes depict­ ing scenes from the Odyssey for the Galerie d’Ulysse at Fontainebleau (1555-1560, destroyed O d yssey

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Fig. 27.

REC EP TION, IN V ISU A L ARTS

Pintoricchio (1454-1513). Penelope with the Suitors, ca. 1509. London, The National Gallery.

in the 18th century), which were engraved and published by Theodorus van Thulden in 1632. A series of frescoes depicting episodes from the life of Ach illes by Giulio Romano and helpers (15381539, Ducal Palace, Mantua), drew on both Homer and the Epic Cycle, and reflected the revived inter­ est in classical form inspired by the visible remains from antiquity, as evident in his rendering of the battle over the body of Patroklos , which shows the influence of a Roman sarcophagus of the same subject. At the same time, there was no decline in the popularity of subjects such as the Judgment of Paris , Aeneas and An ch ises , Dido and Aeneas, which lent themselves better to allegorical inter ­ pretation , or emphasized a heroic ideal of service to the state above personal concerns. This span of interest continued into the 17th century. Peter Paul Rubens painted subjects from the Epic Cycle, Vergil, and Homer, among the last his Odysseus and Nausicaa (1619); he produced oil sketches for a series of tapestries on the Life o f

Achilles (1625), which drew on both the Epic Cycle and Homer, but, importantly, followed the Iliad's account of the wrath of Achilles rather than that of the medieval romances, which had prevailed in the artistic repertoire. Antoine Coypel produced the first known series of paintings based solely on Homer’s Iliad (Achilles' Wrath, Hector’s Farewell, Achilles' Revenge, 1708), and the 18th century saw a surge of interest in Homer’s Trojan War, when rationalism began to replace allegorical interpre­ tation, and Homer’s heroes were appreciated for their naturalism and human qualities. Giovanni Battista Tiepolo’s Athena Restraining the Anger o f Achilles (1757) adheres closely to the account in the Iliad, dispensing with the cloud shrouding an aerial Athene in Coypel’s depiction of the scene, to present the goddess standing behind Achilles, firmly grasping his hair. At this time, too, increased archaeological activ­ ity and the widespread publication of the discover­ ies stimulated interest in coupling subject with

RECEPTION, IN VISU A L ARTS

731

Fig. 28. Gavin Hamilton (1723-1798). Achilles fomenting the Death o f Patroclus, 1760-1763. Edinburgh, National Gallery of Scotland. form. Rome attracted artists from various parts of Europe, among them the Scottish painter and archaeologist Gavin Hamilton, who looked to antique works for historical settings for his paint­ ings, and his stern, moral compositions influenced the development of neodassicism in art. His paint­ ing Andromache Mourning the Death o f Hector (1762) was the first in a series painted over fifteen years on subjects taken from the Iliad, including The Wrath o f Achilles and Achilles Lamenting the Death o f Patroclus (Fig. 28). Hamilton influenced a number of artists working in Rome at the time, including the Swiss painter Angelika Kauffmann, who painted Penelope a t Her Loom (1764), and subsequently a number of works on Homeric sub­ jects. The neoclassical sculptor Antonio Canova looked to Gavin Hamilton’s paintings and Greek vases for his stylistic sources in a series o f low reliefs in plaster executed between 1787 and 1792, which included subjects from Homer’s Iliad (The Wrath o f Achilles a t the Departure ofBriseis and The Dedication o f the Peplos to Athena by the Trojan Women). In turn, Canova influenced the Danish sculptor Bertel Thorvaldsen’s choice o f Homeric subjects, which included, from the Iliad, Briseis Led

Awayfrom Achilles by Agamemnon's Heralds (17871790), The Wrath o f Achilles (ca. 1803), and The Embassy o f Priam (ca. 1817). The English sculptor John Flaxman emulated the techniques o f narra­ tive composition observed in Greek vase painting, which he executed in pure line drawing in his illus­ trations for Homer’s Iliad (1793; see Fig. 29) and Odyssey (1795); his simplicity of form was widely influential in the neoclassical movement. In France, Homeric subjects were frequently set for the Prix de Rome in painting and sculpture, and neoclassi­ cism flourished, reaching a high point in the works of Jacques-Louis David, whose Homeric paintings included The Funeral o f Patroclus (1778), Hector (1778), and Patroclus (1780), and in 1783 he gained entry into the Royal Academy with his monumen­ tal painting of Andromache Mourning the Death o f Hector, in which he made direct reference to the text by inscribing the opening of Andromache ’s lament (Iliad 24.725-727) on the candleholder, but in confining the figures to H ector ’s corpse, the widowed Andromache, and their orphaned son, his composition also recalls their last meeting. David’s student, Jean-Auguste-Dominique Ingres, won the Prix de Rome in 1801 with his painting

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RECEPTION, IN V ISU A L ARTS

Fig. 29. John Flaxman (1755-1826). The Embassy to Achilles from The Iliad, 1793. First edition 1795. Wikimedia Commons. Achilles Receives the Ambassadors o f Agamemnon, closely based on the Iliad and Flaxman's illustra­ tion of the scene, but with figures modeled on well-known antique statues. Ingress perception of the cultural debt to Homer was expressed in his painting The Apotheosis o f Homer (1827), which he modeled on Raphael’s Mount Parnassus, but in which Homer receives the wreath from Victory, surrounded by his followers, among them the art­ ists Raphael and Michelangelo. Neoclassicism gave way to an interest in contem­ porary subjects and realism in the 19th century, but nevertheless Homeric subjects continued to be set for the Prix de Rome in painting and sculpture. However, reaction against academicism and the heroism of neoclassical treatments of Homeric themes manifested itself in parody in Honoré Daumier’s lithographs, with irreverent caricatures of Homeric heroes and scenes in his series Histoire Ancienne (1841), includingAchilles andAgamemnon, Achilles in his Tent, Introduction o f Ulysses to Nausicaa, Penelope’s Nights, The Return o f Ulysses, and Penelope and Ulysses. The Symbolist movement maintained an interest in mythological subjects, including Homer, through which they sought to express spiritual themes: Gustave Moreau’s vast, unfinished, painting The Pretenders (1852), while

adhering to the Odyssey’s account o f the slaughter of the Suitors, was seeking to express the idea of poetry and beauty through bloodshed and death; the Swiss painter Arnold Böcklin’s Odysseus and Calypso (1882), took its inspiration from Odyssey Book 5 but with a focus on the emotional tension between the figures, which he achieved through a series of contrasts: a darkly silhouetted Odysseus stands apart, gazing nostalgically out to sea with his back to Calypso, while she, semi-naked, shimmers against the dark background of her cave, turning towards him imploringly. In the 20th century, Homer continued to be an influence in the visual arts, through the personal response of individual artists from diverse artistic movements. Experimentation with form and an interest in the psychological state inform Giorgio de Chirico’s series of paintings entitled Hector and Andromache (1916-1924), in which he depicted the figures as two faceless mannequins, alone and clinging together, against a minimal background suggestive of an ancient city. While his inspiration was Iliad Book 6 , he did not represent the scene as described but powerfully expressed its emotion. Max Beckmann’s painting Odysseus and Calypso (1943) similarly focuses on the emotional ambi­ ence rather than representation o f the literary

R E C O G N I T IO N - S C E N E

733

Fig. 30. Dame Elisabeth Frink (1930-1993). From The Odyssey, Odysseus and Penelope, 1973-1974. Lithograph on paper. 256 x 163 mm. © Tate, London 2010.

source of inspiration. He captures a sense of loss and isolation as Odysseus, lost in his own thoughts, looks past Kalypso who vainly caresses him. The African-American artist Romare Bearden exhibited a series of watercolors in 1948 under the title The Iliad: 16 Variations. His inspiration was Homer’s poem, though the works did not aim to illustrate particular episodes or heroes. In 1977 he returned to Homer for his Odyssey series of twenty collages in which episodes and characters from the poem are represented in a fusion of ancient myth and African-American culture. In the area of illus­ tration of the texts, the sculptor Elisabeth Frink produced a series of twelve lithographs for the Odyssey (1973), in which she, like her predecessor John Flaxman, focused on line-drawn figures with a minimal background, but her Homeric world is more impassioned and violent, as, for example, in Odysseus and Penelope (Fig. 30), which shows the limp, dangling bodies o f the hanged maidservants observed by a solemnly reflective Odysseus.

References and Suggested Readings Scherer 1963; Wiebenson 1964; Greenhalgh 1978, 200-202, 204-205, 209, 214, 216, 229-231; Dué 2005; Schwartz 2005. K . JA N ET WATSON

Reciprocity

see E x c h a n g e.

R ecognition-Scene The term “recognitionscene” is used in one o f two ways: ( 1) any scene where a character reveals his/her identity or acknowledges the identity o f another; ( 2 ) a t y p e s c e n e , with recurring motifs that appear in a regular sequence, and which appears only in the second half o f the O d y s s e y and enacts O d y s s e u s ’ reunion with members o f his family. 1. Recognition in general. Acknowledgment, revelation, disguise, and identity are prominent themes especially in the Odysseys narrative of

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Odysseus’ return. Odysseus’ identity as a success­ ful returning hero is something that he controls and lays claim to: it is his choice to withhold his identity from, and later reveal it to, the P h a e a c i a n s , the C y c l o p s , the S u i t o r s , and his own family. Revelation moments are therefore key turning points. When Odysseus reveals his name to the Phaeacians, it is his first fully open contact with other mortals in years; when he reveals himself to the Cyclops, it leads directly to his prolonged absence from home. Conversely, his reputation for d o b s "trickery” is reinforced by the control he exerts in withholding his identity, especially from P e n e l o p e in the late-night conversation of Odyssey 19. On two occasions only is recognition beyond any character’s control: when the faithful old dog A r g o s recognizes his long-lost master at the door of the house (17.290-327), and when E u r y k l e i a discovers his scar in the bath-scene (19.388-475) (see S c a r o p O d y s s e u s ) . Later, however, Odysseus reasserts control over the scar and other symbols of his identity: he chooses when to use them in revealing himself to the herdsmen (21.221-225) and his father (24.330344). On some occasions other characters use their control over signs to best him in dobs: A t h e n e disguises the island of I t h a c a to trick him (13.187-249) or exerts control over his appearance on his behalf (7.39—46, 13.397—403, 16.172-189), and Penelope extracts proof of his identity by using her control over the sign of the tree in their bedroom (23.173-206). On the power of signs in the Odyssey see further Stewart 1976; Murnaghan 1987; Goldhill 1991, 1-68; Henderson 1997;Vernant 1999. Revelation and recognition are also important in the context of divine epiphanies in both Homeric epics. These are occasions where a god visits a mortal in disguise; if the mortal recog­ nizes the god (usually on the god’s departure) it is simultaneously a sign o f divine favor and of the mortal’s greatness. The more easily the mor­ tal recognizes the god, the greater the mortal: T e l e m a c h o s fails to perceive Athene in Odyssey 16.160-161, though he recognizes her elsewhere; at the other extreme, D i o m e d e s is empowered by Athene to perceive A r e s and A p h r o d i t e on the battlefield (II. 5.124-132), and in a crowded setting only A c h i l l e s perceives Athene (1.192-222).

On recognition from the perspective of Aristotelian anagnorisis, see A r i s t o t l e a n d H o m e r ; see also Richardson 1983. 2. Recognition in type-scenes. Odyssey Books 13-24 contain fifteen recognition type-scenes. Gainsford 2003 gives an analysis of the typescene’s motif structure; on the type-scene’s inte­ gration into the reunion o f Odysseus and Penelope, see Emlyn-Jones 1984, Gainsford 2001. In the type-scene, too, symbols are important: in particular, the type-scene itself acts as a symbol of Odysseus’ progressive reunion with his family members, one by one. The type-scene involves up to three “moves,” or smaller sequences of motifs. These are: a testing; a deception; and either a foretelling of Odysseus’ return, or a recognition that he has returned. The foretelling and recognition moves share several motifs: though they accomplish very different things in terms of the advancement of the plot, they are formally a multiform of one another. The motifs include events such as “the addressee expresses disbelief that Odysseus will return,” “the addressee wishes it were true nonetheless,”“the addressee asserts that Odysseus is dead,” and so on. Sequences o f motifs sometimes appear in pairs: the whole scene structure may be reiterated (e.g., the foretelling scenes with E u m a i o s in Od. 14.185—408 and 453-533, or with Penelope in 19.44-251 and 252-316), or a move may be reit­ erated within one scene (e.g., the doubled recog­ nition move in the last scene with Penelope, 23.96-116 and 153-204, or the deception move in the scene with L a e r t e s , 24.235-279 and 303313). In three scenes we find an addressee testing and/or deceiving Odysseus at the same time that he tests/deceives them: Athene in 13.187-371, Penelope in 19.213-251 and 23.85-246. In the testing move, Odysseus manipulates the addressee to determine their moral fiber and especially their loyalty to the o i k o s during his absence, with a view to making them eligible to be reunited with him. This is why there is no recognition-scene with the Suitors: with them Odysseus seeks vengeance, not reunion. In this respect recognition-scenes differ subtly from the so-called t h e o x e n i e s seen in the Homeric H y m n s (Kearns 1982; García 2002): in those, the addressee often fails to come up to scratch. Conversely, a minor character like Eumaios requires consider­ able bolstering to make him important enough

RELIG IO N

for a reunion: Odysseus tests him three times in Books 14-15 (see further Rose 1980). Testing also explains the motivation for the deception move: a false story is a characteristic way for Odysseus to gauge the addressee’s reactions (see Lies ). At times the testing appears overblown, as in the recognition-scene with Laertes, where Odysseus’ needling of his aged father has seemed perverse and cruel to some readers (see, e.g., S. West 1989; Scodel 1998). His testing of Laertes is explained - though not morally excused - by the formulaic character of the type-scene. As Athene comments (13.330-336), it is deep-rooted in his nature to test carefully before exchanging informa­ tion; similarly it is deep-rooted in the Odyssey n a r r a t i v e to enact reunion through the formal type-scene, which involves testing. Odysseus often ascertains the addressee’s moral character by observing their performance as host in a formal h o s p i t a l i t y scene. The recognitionscenes in Books 14-15 repeatedly show Eumaios to be extremely skilled at hospitality; similarly with Penelope and Laertes in their scenes (19.96— 105, 24.297-301). Again there is a contrast with the Suitors, whose abuse of the hospitality system shows their vileness and their ineligibility to be united with Odysseus’ family. p e t e r g a in s f o r d

Religion In the world of the Homeric heroes, there is a strange double perspective on the rela­ tions between humans and g o d s . On the one hand, mortals communicate with the divine using the apparatus of religious cult, above all through p r a y e r , l i b a t i o n , and s a c r i f i c e , in ways which have their analogues in the behavior of non-fictional, non-heroic people in historical times. On the other, the characters of the epic belong to a poetic world of an irrecoverable past, in which humans and gods are closer to each other than they are in the poet’s own “now.” Divine figures thus frequently appear among and interact with mortals in disguise which is seldom altogether effective (“the gods are easily recognized,” II. 13.72), and numerous characters in the epics are the children of a divine parent and a mortal part­ ner (see H e r o ) . T o put the paradox in another way, the gods of the epics are both the familiar dei­ ties of cult, worshipped by the heroes and shared

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with the audience, and also independent char­ acters within the story. This allows much com­ plexity, even playfulness and i r o n y , within the narrative structure, an effect seen nowhere more clearly than in Odyssey 3.31-66, the sacrifice at P y l o s , where the disguised A t h e n e joins the party with T e l e m a c h o s , and is immediately greeted by N e s t o r ’s son P e i s i s t r a t o s , given some of the sacrificial entrails and w i n e , and asked to pray to P o s e i d o n . Thereupon the goddess acts just as a mortal would do, offering a libation and making a prayer first for good things to come to Nestor and his family, and then for a safe return to I t h a c a for Telemachos and “himself”; but we know that the god she is addressing, elsewhere described as her father’s brother, is her own most implacable oppo­ nent in her aim of securing the return and restitu­ tion of O d y s s e u s (a request conspicuously absent from her words), and we are told that she herself brought about the fulfillment of her own prayer. The relationship o f the poems to “real life” is always difficult to gauge, and this is perhaps par­ ticularly true in the case o f religion. But some dif­ ferences are clear: there are certainly aspects of the religious system known to the poet which are ignored or underplayed in the main n a r r a t i v e . Notoriously, D e m e t e r and D i o n y s o s play no part in the plot of either poem, presumably because their typical concerns and their relation­ ships with mortals are of a different kind from the divine partisanship that we see in the epics (see also C h t h o n i c D e i t i e s ) ; yet their presence in d i g r e s s i o n s and s i m i l e s is a guarantee that the poet and his audience recognized, and presumably worshipped, these deities. Again, while N y m p h s and non-Olympian goddesses are an integral part of the Homeric landscape, h e r o e s are absent. But that something resembling h e r o - c u l t was famil­ iar at the time of the epics’ composition seems almost certain from the archaeological evidence, and is suggested, if not proved, from within the poems by the reference to the monumental tomb of I l o s (1) (II. 10.415, 11.166, 371-372, 24.349; cf. also the tomb of A i p y t o s at 2.603-604) and the attention paid to the burial and monument of S a r p e d o n at Iliad 16.666-683 and the burial of P h r o n t i s (2) at S o u n i o n (Od. 3.278-285). But to introduce hero-cult into the narrative would compromise the tragic finality of d e a t h which is central to the I l i a d , and to a lesser extent the O d y s s e y (see also A f t e r l i f e ).

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RELIGION

The cult recipients who do play a role in the narrative were no doubt familiar outside the poems; most are already present by name in L i n e a r B documents ( A p o l l o being a notable exception). But that is not to say that the presen­ tation o f a deity in Homer corresponded in every respect to that deity’s appearance in a context of cult. Local variations in the way an individual god was thought of and the functions attributed to him or her could still be considerable even cen­ turies after the composition o f the Homeric poems. Local pantheons, too, were seldom quite identical with that formed by the poems (see P a n h e l l e n i s m ) . Cults of H e p h a i s t o s , for instance, were quite unusual despite that god’s prominence in the epics. But the gods of the epic had clearly corresponding entities in cultic reality, and con­ versely the epic depictions had considerable influ­ ence on the way the gods were viewed in the world outside the poems. Like their real-life counterparts, the characters of the epic have certain expectations o f the gods. Other things being equal, the gods are likely to favor those who cultivate them assiduously and generously. They may also be expected to support those whose behavior conforms to accepted moral standards; this is a view especially prominent among Odyssean characters, but espoused in the Iliad in a more restricted form by M e n e l a o s and A g a m e m n o n , who believe that Z e u s is likely to admit the punishment of T r o y for P a r i s ’ offense against h o s p i t a l i t y and for the breaking of the truce (3.350-354,4.155-168; see J u s t i c e ) . Zeus is also thought to protect suppliants, at least away from a battle context (see S u p p l i c a t i o n ) . If the gods do not always fulfill these expectations, that is also experienced outside the poems. Gods have their favorites, and equally those whom they hate. They may always refuse a request, as Athene refuses the plea of the Trojan women to let D i o m e d e s fall, even though it is accompanied by the offering of a peplos and the promise of a twelve-cow sacrifice (6.304-311). Divine m o t i v a ­ t i o n is frequently, from the human viewpoint, inscrutable: on what basis does Zeus distribute good and bad things from his jars (24.527-533)? But if worshipping the gods does not guarantee success, failure to worship them is almost certain to lead to disaster. The pervasive mythological motif of the deity angered by a lack of offerings is present for instance in the story of M e l e a g e r ,

whose misfortunes were caused by his father’s neglect of A r t e m i s (9.533-535). Within the main narrative, the A c h a e a n W a l l is doomed to come down because hecatombs were not offered at its construction (7.445-463), and disregarding the sacredness of a god’s property leads to the destruc­ tion of all the followers of Odysseus (Od. 12.334419; see O d y s s e u s ’ C o m p a n i o n s ) . But on the whole the heroes get this right. When Agamemnon realizes that he has offended Apollo, he orders lavish sacrifices in recompense, and in general characters make consistent efforts to keep the gods on their side. Since much o f the narrative concerns action and danger, the means they use are frequently of necessity less than elab­ orate. In the midst o f batde, or as a suppliant in a foreign land, it is not possible to do more than pray, and this the heroes do frequently, most often to Zeus. Often they refer to past sacrifices or promise future ones; sometimes these little per­ suasions are omitted, but it seems reasonable to suppose that the idea o f r e c i p r o c i t y , s o central to Greek religion, is always there in the back­ ground. When the A c h a b a n s watch the d u e l between A j a x and H e c t o r , they pray to Zeus for Ajax’s victory, or at least survival, but without ref­ erence to past or future offerings; still, at the duel’s inconclusive end, Agamemnon sacrifices a bull to Zeus (II. 7.200-205, 313-315). But where there is more leisure and freedom o f action, the prayer can be more ceremonious and may be accompa­ nied by a libation, a conjunction often practiced outside the epic (cf. Hes. Op. 336-341), but which also appears as a poetic device to lend emphasis to the moment (as II 16.220-254, Achilles’ prayer on consenting to P a t r o k l o s ’ entry to battle, and 24.283-313, P r i a m at H e c u b a ’s suggestion before the visit to Achilles). It is sacrifice which is the central prestige action in the Homeric religious repertoire, as in later times. Sacrifice is usually designated simply as hiera “holy things,” often linked with a h e c a t o m b (hekatombê, a hundred cattle). The origin o f the latter word is debated, and it is doubtful whether we should always understand it in a literal sense; it may indicate rather any large, multiple sacrifice, but again, since the heroes live in a poetic, largerthan-life world, the distinction may not matter much. The procedure o f sacrifice is fully described, and appears very similar to what we find in later texts and images. The main difference is in the

RELIGION

chief officiant. Typically in Homer if is the senior male present who presides over the sacrifice Nestor in Pylos, E u m a i o s in his hut (Od. 14.414— 453), Agamemnon in the Achaean army. This pattern is reflected in the religious functions of magistrates in the classical p o l i s , and in Classical times sacrifice was also sometimes performed privately, in a family context. But tire paradig­ matic sacrificer of the later period was of course the priest. By contrast in Homer priests are incon­ spicuous in sacrifice scenes, the exception being the sacrifice performed by C h r y s e s for the bene­ fit of the Achaeans and with materials provided by them (II. 1.446-466). Yet it was the insult to his priest that had originally angered Apollo, starting the whole chain of events in the Iliad story, and priests appear elsewhere in the epics as important and respected people, sometimes like Chryses specially favored by the god they serve; thus Hephaistos saves one of the two sons of his Trojan priest out of consideration for the latter (5.9-24; see Idaios [2]), though Athene’s priestess T h e a n o is not able to mitigate the deity’s hatred of the T r o j a n s (6.297-311). The priest-led sacrifice is perhaps underplayed in the epic because it is not particularly promising in terms of narrative func­ tion. The same could be said about the absence of regularly recurring, community-based worship (“festivals”), where we might particularly expect a priest(ess) to be prominent. In general, the narrative privileges the ritual and observance of special occasions. We know that hymns were normally sung at a sacrifice in Classical times, but the Iliad prefers to mention only the p a e a n s sung to please and propitiate Apollo after making reparation (1.472—474). The gods might also be pleased b y d a n c e , but a dance for Artemis is referred to solely as part o f a narra­ tive of divine seduction (16.181-183). More con­ spicuous may be less commonly performed actions, such as the oath-sacrifice, focus o f two memorable Iliadic scenes (3.292-301, 19.250268). To take an o a t h was to invoke a god or gods, and sometimes in addition divinity-like objects (in Od. 14.158-159 the disguised Odysseus swears by Zeus and by the table and hearth of Odysseus) as witness to one’s truthfulness or good faith, with dire consequences for the perjurer. In the most formal context, the oath is further secured by a sacrifice, in which unusual emphasis seems to be laid on the victim’s death, and elements of “sym­

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pathetic m a g i c ” may be present; in Iliad 3, the Achaeans and Trojans pour out wine and pray that the brains of those who break the truce, and of their children, may pour to the ground like the wine. After the ceremony in Book 19, the victim’s body is not eaten but thrown into the sea. The ritual was both like and unlike normal sacrifice; mimetic action comes together with invocation of the gods, including terrifying powers such as the E r i n y e s , to create a dramatic and impressive whole. It is also largely narrative demands that cause the foregrounding of various kinds of prophecy and divination, although judging by non-Homeric evidence, it seems clear that this complex of prac­ tices was important at least into the Hellenistic period. Ka i .chas’ role in the Achaean army is lit­ tle different in essentials from that o f the mantis in armies described by Herodotus or Xenophon, except that divination from sacrificial animals is not practiced; it is omens from birds which form the most important part o f the seer’s technique. But in a world o f such close interaction between gods and humans, seers also have other channels of communication. Helenos can pick up on a conversation between Athene and Apollo, and give information based on this to Hector (II. 7.44-53). In the Odyssey, T heoklymenos is a seer whose mode of operation appears to be based on visions. The assumption is always that prophetic powers derive ultimately from the gods, and that the gods do use certain channels to communicate with humans in this way, sometimes producing omens which can be understood by all, not only by experts. Athene sends a favorable sign, a heron on tneir right, to Diomedes and Odysseus on their night raid (10.274-276; see Dolonbia ). Humans may request a sign, as Odysseus does from Zeus (Od. 20.98-101), asking for both a speech-omen (phêmê - “random” words overheard which are taken as significant) and a sign from outside the house, both of which are immediately granted. D r e a m s , of course, are another way in which the gods use signs to communicate with humans, and as with other kinds of omens both professionals (see II. 1.63) and amateurs (e.g., Od. 19.535-558) may attempt to interpret them. This may be difficult in the case of symbolic dreams such as P e n e l o p e ’s dream of the geese, which are like omens in that a message needs to be decoded (though in this case a decoding is suggested in the dream itself); but even

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RELIGION

the other type of dream, in which the dreamer is given a direct verbal message, can be misleading, as Agamemnon finds to his cost (//2.5-40; see P b i r a ) . Within the epic, a dream’s divine provenance is no guarantee of its veracity. Finally, the world of the epic also knows oracular sanctuaries (II. 16.233-236; Od 8.73-82, 14.327-330 = 19.296-299) where the god communicates with human worshippers, but this too is fraught with difficulty; the motif of the misunderstood oracle is already present in the story of Agamemnon’s Delphic consultation at Odyssey 8.73-82 (see P y t h o ). There are certain modalities which are clearly important later in divine-human relationships, such as those of healing or mystery-type cults, that we do not find in the Homeric poems (though that of course does not mean that they were nec­ essarily unknown to the age in which the poems took shape). The s o c i e t y depicted in the poems is differently organized from that of the A r c h a i c and Classical periods, which also entails impor­ tant differences in the practice of religion. And as we have seen, the position of the epic gods between narrative characters and objects o f worship fur­ ther complicates the picture. Epic demands clearcut characters, while the gods o f cult are often rather ill-defined and may merge into one another. But despite these important differences, the reli­ gion of the Homeric world is recognizably a form of Greek religion. Its gods, its expectations of their interactions with human beings, its cult practices come together to make a system which cannot be a complete representation o f historical reality, but which could not exist without it. References and Suggested Readings A great deal more has been written on the role of the gods in the epic than on the place of religion, but some of these more general studies include discussion of religious practice. Among other notable treatments are Schrade 1952; Burkert 1985 [1977], esp. 47-125; Graf 1991; Kullmann 1993a [2002]; and Schwabl 1978 (on the Odyssey). On particular aspects of religious practice, Morrison 1991 deals with prayers; Seaford 1994 (esp. 42-73, though the scope is wider) and Hitch 2009 with sacrifice; Faraone 1993 and Kitts 2005 with oaths. For the relationship of the Homeric epics to hero-cult, see Antonaccio 1995a. EM ILY KEARNS

Reminiscences There are many references to the past in the Homeric epics. Several stories of earlier heroes are told in brief or at length, and while relevant to the contexts in which they are told, they are not personal stories. Reminiscences are distinguished, then, as stories from their tellers’ own lives (see M e m o r y ). Some personal stories in the Homeric epics are told to explain how the tellers came to this situation or what they should do, or they might be prompted by the listener: for example, O d y s s e u s ’ memory of K a l c h a s ’ prophecy at A u l i s (II. 2.301-330); P h o i n i x ’s story of his conflict with his father and how he came to live in P h t h i a (9.447-495); N e s t o r ’ s account of the homecomings of the A c h a e a n s (Od. 3.103-200); M e n e l a o s ’ narra­ tive of his time in E g y p t during his own home­ coming and what he learned from P r o t e u s (4.351-586); E u m a i o s ’ story about his kidnap­ ping (15.389-484); or even Odysseus’ tale of his own w a n d e r i n g s (Od. 9 -1 2 ; see A p o l o g u e ) . But Nestor’s stories in the I l i a d about his youth­ ful exploits have been recognized as a special kind of reminiscence, with a particular struc­ ture and purpose. They are told not in response to a request, but are instead integral to Nestor’s primary role as advisor (Alden 2000, 111). How Nestor’s reminiscences operate, then, deserves special attention, and differing interpretations o f them involve fundamental disputes about the composition o f the epics. The four stories usually categorized as this spe­ cial kind of reminiscence include: Nestor help­ ing the L a p i t h s (II 1.260-273); his defeat of the A r c a d i a n champion E r e u t h a l i o n (7.132-157); the battles he fought near P y l o s (11.668-761); and his successes and failure in the funeral games for Am a r y n k e u s (23.629-643). Each reminiscence is marked at its beginning by Nestor’s wish to be like he was in his y o u t h (1.260,7.133,11.668-669, 23.629-630), and each applies to their immediate context, although that application is subtle and implicit (Alden 2000, 74-111). The story of Nestor’s experiences at the early funeral games can be used as a representative example, especially since it is explicitly called an ainos (a story with a special meaning for the listener) after it is told (23.652; see P a r a d i g m s ) - by labeling it an ainos, the n a r r a t i v e itself signals that it is a coded mes­ sage requiring interpretation (Nagy 1979 [1999], 237-241; Alden 2000,103). After the c h a r i o t race

REPETITIO NS

in the Funeral Games for P a t r o k l o s and the dis­ pute that follows, A c h i l l e s offers Nestor the sur­ plus last-place prize. Nestor accepts it gladly and tells how in his youth he won every event at the earlier funeral games except the chariot race, in which the A k t o r i o n e (1) defeated him. Examining just two recent, detailed analyses of this story, we see how many possible meanings might be encoded here. Alden argues that the Aktorione’s supposed unfair tactics caused Nestor to lose and suggests that Nestor’s lack of com­ plaint about this loss within his story is an implicit criticism o f Menelaos’ behavior after this race, and by extension, o f A g a m e m n o n for his quarrel with Achilles in Iliad 1 (Alden 2000, 102—110). Her interpretation thus focuses on what is not paralleled in the two situations and she relates its applications to the larger issues of the epic as a whole. Frame (2009, 131-173) argues that the story’s coded message is understandable to those who know Nestor’s epic traditions (including inci­ dents from his youth outside of the Iliad and O dyssey ) and can therefore understand the ir o n y of how the story is used here, because Nestor lost that race by crashing his chariot with his reckless driving. Frame sees a relationship of this incident to the larger narrative of the Iliad as well, but in a different way. He connects the awarding of the prize to Nestor in honor of Patroklos, which prompts the story (23.629-645), to Nestor’s own role in Patroklos’ death, when Nestor used another reminiscence about going to battle in his youth against his father’s wishes to implicitly encourage Patroklos to do the same (H .670-762). Frame also draws attention to a wider epic tradition involving Nestor and to older traditions that evolved from I n d o - E u r o p e a n mythical patterns about twins. A literary approach to the content of these reminiscences, then, proposes that the poet has invented them to provide a parallel for the cur­ rent situation. Alden (2000, 75) takes such an approach to Nestor’s reminiscences, stating that although these reminiscences may seem to derive from traditional material, their details correspond so closely to each situation that they have often been understood as created especially for these contexts. But this approach also limits the reso­ nance and implications of the story, which are confined to the epic itself as we have it.

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With an approach based on the oral tradi­ tional composition of these epics (see O r a l T r a d i t i o n s ) , these stories are understood to refer to episodes that could be told in other epics out­ side of the Iliad and Odyssey as well as appearing in them. Some details within reminiscences are understandable only to an audience familiar with the larger tradition, as Frame shows, but then that audience can appreciate them more comprehen­ sively, as can we if we reconstruct the references. The reminiscences are not “invented” to fit the Iliad, because oral poets do not strive to invent (Lord 1960 [2000), 4—5, 44—45). Oral traditional poets are, however, creative artists (Lord 1960 [2000], 13, 29), and it is easily conceivable that the poets see the parallels in events within their traditional repertoire and therefore tell an appro­ priate story about the past in a way fitting for the current situation. From this perspective, Nestor’s reminiscences are interwoven within a larger tra­ dition and can thus create richer meaning. See also

D ig r e s s io n s .

References and Suggested Readings In addition to Alden 2000 and Frame 2009, Minchin 2005 recently explored the stories o f Nestor as “autobi­ ographical memory.” Lord 1960 [20001 is still the best source for understanding how traditionality and crea­ tivity coexist in an oral tradition. MARY E B B O T T

Repetitions Although the Homeric poems are models of a literate culture in the fidelity of their t r a n s m is s io n across more than two millennia, they differ markedly from other written texts in the extent and kind o f phrasal repetition. Language is always shot through with repetitions at all levels of organization, but contexts differ widely with regard to the threshold at which a repeated phenomenon is no longer taken for granted but attracts attention as a blunder, tic, or special effect. In Western writing the threshold values for phrasal repetition have fluctuated in a quite narrow range. Such works as the Republic, the Aeneid, Paradise Lost, Emma, or Das Kapital differ in just about every other respect, but they do not differ much in their threshold values for repetition. Homeric poetry consistently violates these threshold values. Imitators or parodists of

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REPETITIONS

Homer from V e r g i l t h r o u g h Fielding to Joyce have invariably focused o n p h r a s a l repetition a s their point of departure. The British linguist John Sinclair thought of language in terms of an opposition between an “open choice” and an “idiom principle.” The former specifies the theoretical limits of the valid ways of continuing any utterance. The latter articulates the convenience and constraints of “a large number of semi-preconstructed phrases that constitute single choices, even though they might appear to be analyzable into segments.” This repertoire of “idioms” is partly rooted in “a natural tendency to economy of effort” (Sinclair 1991, 110). Repeated phrases like “rosy-fingered D a w n ” and “swift-footed A c h i l l e s ” are evidence of a particularly distinctive idiom principle at work in Homeric poetry. Because they overlap, repetitions are difficult to count, as is clear from this example of a phrase that in its first appear­ ance describes how C h r y s e s “came to the fast s h i p s of the A c h a e a n s ” (II. 1.12):

f]\6e 0oàç è n i vfjaç 2x

lOx 15x 36x 59x

r|\0 £

’A x c u â i v

0 oàç 0 oàç

ènl érri

0 oàç

£TíÍ £7TÍ £Ttl

vfjaç vfjaç vfjaç vfjaç vfjaç

‘Axaiüiv ’Axanbv 'Axau&v

The only consistent way o f counting involves redundancy and turns on the concept o f the “independently recurring substring.” In the above example, èm vfjaç occurs by itself while i)A0e 0oáç or vfjaç ’ AxauDv do not. A count o f all inde­ pendently recurring substrings produces a lexi­ con o f —36,000 repeated lemma strings. Their -192,000 occurrences add up to -515,000 words, well more than twice the number of words in the corpus. But since this inflation works equally across all parts o f the corpus, you can confidently compare figures derived from this consistent way of (over-)counting repetitions. Repetitions differ in length and frequency, and their distribution can be tracked across a long/ short and a common/rare axis. Phrases that con­ sist o f two words and are repeated only once make up 45 percent of all repetition types and 16 per­ cent of repetition events. Roughly one in twelve Homeric lines marks the beginning or end o f a speech. Such lines contain at least 50 percent

more repetitions. They are justly considered a highly characteristic feature of the genre, but in their extraordinary degree of repetivity they are actually untypical. There are some striking differences between the behavior of repetitions in the I l i a d and the O d y s s e y . The Odyssey is somewhat more repeti­ tive, but the absolute difference of - 6 percent is less striking than “the rosy-fingered Dawn effect” caused by a shift in the type:token ratio of repeated phrases. The sun rises thirteen times in the Iliad in ten different lines, three of which are repeated once. In the Odyssey it rises thirty-two times. Twenty of them are marked in the famous line f||ioq fipiyéveia ijiávr] f>oÔoôá.KTu\oç'Hci>ç (“when rosy-fingered Dawn appeared”). In the Iliad the line appears only twice. This striking dif­ ference is not an isolated case. Wherever you find related repetitions, there is a noticeable tendency in the Odyssey to cluster a majority of the tokens around a few subtypes. By contrast, in the Iliad tokens are more evenly distributed across the subtypes, making for a distinctly more varied ver­ bal texture. In O d y s s e u s ’ flashback n a r r a t i v e a certain type of repetition becomes part of a deliberate rhetorical strategy. His adventures are a rondo in which the recurring theme of departure and arrival divides the episodes. Three times Odysseus marks the transition from one adventure to the next with a two-liner about sailing on while griev­ ing for lost companions (9.62-63 = 9.565-566 = 10.133-134). Five times his companions follow orders to get into the boat, sit down, and beat the gray s e a with their oars (9.103-104 = 9.179-180 = 9.471-472 =9.563-564 = 12.146-147). There is a five-line stretch about eating and drinking all day, nightfall, sleeping on the beach, and dawn that appears with very minor variations on five occasions (9.161, 9.556, 10.183, 10.476, 12.29). These repetitions acquire the resonance of refrains as the toils of travel find an “answerable style” in the narrative of the “much-suffering” Odysseus. They reach a ghoulish climax in the triple repeti­ tion of P o l y p h e m o s eating two of O d y s s e u s ’ c o m p a n i o n s . These are distinctive Odyssean effects that have no clear analogue in the Iliad. How much more repetitive is Homer than a lit­ erate but “aural” author like Shakespeare? Because Greek does a lot of grammatical work with suf­ fixes where English uses function words, word

REPETITIONS

counts must be adjusted. If you assume that seven Greek words correspond to ten English words, the lexical density of Homer and Shakespeare is roughly the same: the P h a e a c i a n s who listened in rapt silence to Odysseus’ narrative and the spec­ tators in the Globe Theatre faced comparable cog­ nitive tasks in following a text segment of equal length. On the other hand, Homeric poetry con­ tains at least three times as many instances of fre­ quently occurring adjective-noun combinations. While frequency and length are useful criteria for getting a first overview of phrasal repetition, one needs a richer classification system to account for the diversity of repetitive phenomena. Spea­ ker’s awareness offers à useful model. It exists on a continuum whose endpoints are marked by the complete presence or absence of individual aware­ ness. There are four different (and overlapping) types of repetition: 1 2 3 4

Explicit repetitions are spoken and intended by some character in the poem. Functional repetitions are spoken by the lan­ guage itself. Idiomatic repetitions, the “ f o r m u l a e ,” are spoken by the genre. Interdependent repetitions are spoken by the poet or more generally a mind that remem­ bers details from the context o f one passage while composing another.

Complete awareness is found in explicit repeti­ tions where A tells B to deliver a message X to C. B then goes to C and repeats exactly those words. There are only ~ 40 examples of this pattern in the Homeric poems, but as a limiting case, this type is important because it shows that the speak­ ers and listeners o f epic are familiar with the con­ cept and value o f repeating the same words in the same order. In the Iliad the most extreme case of such explicit repetition is A g a m e m n o n ’s offer of damages to Achilles (9.122-157 = 9.264-299; see E m b a s s y t o A c h il l e s ).

At the other end of the awareness spectrum there are functional repetitions, the combinations of little words through which utterances are bound together and which may be said to be spo­ ken by the language itself. Functional repetitions account for 53 percent o f repetition types and 67 percent of repetition tokens. They are individu­ ally without interest, but quantitative procedures

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that include them typically produce clearer results. Language never speaks outside of a particular discursive context with its own needs for words or phrases. Some functional repetitions therefore will not only occur more often in some environ­ ments, but become active markers. Thus the filler phrase Ô' üpa, which occurs thirteen times as often in narrative as in spe ec h , is a powerful marker and in its aggregate proclaims that “nar­ rative is going on here.” A similar point can be made about the combination of the two most common Greek words, the particle ôé and vari­ ous forms of the third-person pronoun. The resultant phrase, meaning something like “and/ but he/him/she/her/they/them” is by far the most common Homeric repetition and occurs on aver­ age every ten lines. But half the time this phrase occurs in verse-initial position, and the - 500 occurrences of the most common subtype ton de join with similarly inconspicuous phrases to weave a fabric that says “epic.” Idiomatic repetitions are the “formulae” o f oral composition. They are like words in that nobody owns or can claim to have invented them. If you bracket repetitions that are dominated by func­ tion words the distribution o f repetitions by fre­ quency looks as follows: occurrences 2 3 4 5-8 9-16 > 16 repetitions 8,974 3,467 1,787 1,968 708 281 If you stipulate that any phrase with four or more occurrences is likely to be idiomatic, it appears that there are about five thousand known idioms in early Greek epic. It is a nice question how many of the - 12,000 doublets or triplets happen to be idioms that simply have not been attested more often in the small surviving corpus of a quarter million words o f early Greek epic. Many critical disagreements rest on implicit answers to that question. Rare repetitions may show traces o f interde­ pendence. Given a repetition A that appears in locations X and Y, it is often the most plausible hypothesis that one location was in the mind of the individual who composed the other in what­ ever “creative” or “editorial” environment. Priority may be impossible to prove, but interdependence can be asserted with high confidence. It is likely that many interdependent repetitions result from

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REPETITIO NS

a hybrid technology in which conventions of oral composition blend in new and sometimes awk­ ward ways with the opportunities and conven­ iences offered by the new text technology of writing. The ~300 repeated passages that exceed two lines in length provide the most obvious examples o f a “cut-and-paste” mode o f pro­ duction (see Concordance Interpolations). Celebrated examples are the “cut-and-run” speech of Agamemnon in Iliad 2 and 9 or the arming of Athene and Hera in Iliad 5 and 8 . Some forms o f clustering provide strong evi­ dence for interdependence. Approximately 4,500 phrases are repeated once in the Iliad. In a quar­ ter of the cases, the second occurrence is located within six hundred lines o f the first. Even more striking than this “neighborhood effect,” which departs strikingly from a random distribution, is a clustering effect, where two doublets are found within two hundred lines o f each other in both their occurrences. Statistically striking clusters of such doublets are found in several “book links” o f the Iliad, notably 3-7 , 5-8, and 11-16. “Name association” is another telling form of clustering. A doublet associated with warrior X in one occurrence is also associated with him in another, although there is no intrinsic connec­ tion between him and that phrase. Such name association is a particularly striking aspect of doublets that involve Aeneas, Ajax, Menelaos, Antilochos, and Diomedes. It is too pervasive to be accounted for as a by-product of formulaic composition and strongly suggests that in the act of composition the particular memory of one fighting scene affects the creation of another. The quantitative analysis of repetitions also provides strong evidence for the deep affinities between the Odyssey and the framing books of the Iliad, which scholars have pointed out since the 19th century. Because of the disproportion­ ately large number of shared repetitions between those books and the Odyssey it remains an attrac­ tive hypothesis that there was some interaction between the composition of the Odyssey and of Iliad 1 and 24. The details, however, elude us. References and Suggested Readings Kahane and Mueller n.d.; Mueller 2009 [1984], M A RTIN M U ELLER

Responsibility The subject of responsibility in Homer raises issues as regards both psychology and ethics. The question how far we should hold figures responsible for their actions depends on how far we see them as coherent rational agents, capable of holding responsibility, and also on how far we think Homeric ethics gives significant weight to the notion of moral responsibility. Relevant to both issues is the nature of the inter­ play between gods and humans and the question whether this leaves scope for human beings to exercise responsibility for their own actions. Bruno Snell (1953, ch. 1) maintained that the Homeric poems belong to a thought-world in which people are not seen as cohesive psycho­ logical subjects, and hence that Homer lacks a secure sense o f people as morally responsible agents (see further Decision-M aking; S elf). A. W. H. Adkins (1960a, 1-9) claimed that the Homeric poems present an ethical context in which what matters is success or failure and the honor or shame that attaches to these. In this context, internalized notions such as guilt or moral responsibility play little or no role. Both views have been widely criticized, and survive in more recent scholarship only in a much more nuanced form. For instance, Homeric ethics are now more often analyzed in terms o f types of reciprocity, which cut across the distinction drawn by Adkins between “competitive” and “cooperative” ethics and which allow scope for holding people responsible for the extent and the way in which they engage in reciprocal behavior towards other people (Cairns 2001c; also Donlan 1981-1982, Gill et al. 1998, 51-104; see also Values). As regards the role of the gods, Albin Lesky (2001 [1961]), along with other scholars, argued that Homeric gods are not typically seen as taking away agency or responsibility from human beings. The Homeric poems show a spectrum of cases of divine-human interplay, and in many cases actions are explained by reference to the com­ bined actions of humans and gods (see further Motivation). Bernard Williams (1993, ch. 3) suggested that modern thought also recognizes or should recognize - the idea that individual responsibility is sometimes qualified by factors beyond our control or understanding and that this role is played in Homeric, and Greek tragic, thinking by the gods.

RETURNS

In interpreting Homeric passages where responsibility is denied, as Douglas Cairns sug­ gests ( 2001 b, 16-20), it is important to take into account the underlying motives or “rhetoric” of the speaker or the shaping objectives of the poetic narrative. This applies, for instance, to Priam’s assertion, in Iliad 3.164-165, that he does not hold Helen responsible for the troubles caused by her abduction, but rather the gods. Helen, however, responds by blaming herself for her betrayal of her husband, Menelaos (3.171-180). In Iliad 6.344-358, she holds herself and her lover Paris responsible for their wrongdoing, while in the same context seeing the hand of the gods in these events (as Priam does in 3.164-165). These variations are best understood not as partial expressions of a single underlying truth about divine-human relationships, but, rather, of vary­ ing attitudes to the same situation, including Priam’s generously minded pity and Helen’s own guilt and self-reproach (cf. Gaskin 2001, 164; Lesley 2001 [1961], 194-195). The case of Agamemnon’s responsibility is a famous and complex one, which has generated a range of interpretive views. In Iliad 19.86-90, he declares that he is not responsible (aitios) for the actions that enraged Achilles and that this was the result of divinely sent delusion ( a t ê ) . Even so, he combines his self-description as “deluded” (áaaápr|v) with willingness to offer compensa­ tion (19.137-138) This led some scholars to suppose that the Homeric poems take a fun­ damentally different view about responsibility from later Greek or modern culture. Both E. R. Dodds (1951, 3) and A. W. H. Adkins (1960a, 51-52), for instance, saw here the basis for distin­ guishing between strict liability for error, which Agamemnon accepts, and intention-based moral responsibility, which he denies, thus pointing to a radically different view of responsibility from modern thought. However, in 9.115-120, Agamemnon also claims that he was “deluded,” while accepting that he needs to offer compensa­ tory gifts; but here he does not deny that he was responsible and accepts that he did wrong, rely­ ing on his “wretched thoughts” ( p h r b n b s ). Oliver Taplin (1990,75-76) maintains that Agamemnon’s attempt in Iliad 19 to use reference to the gods to claim that he is wholly free from responsibility runs counter to most other ways of characterizing divine-human relations in Homer. Here too, it

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seems that the decisive factor is the attitude of the figure involved at the relevant time. Agamemnon admits in Book 9 (in private) a bad mistake for which he accepts responsibility while in Book 19, he presents the position in a face-saving way in the presence of the person offended and in a pub­ lic context (Cairns 2001b, 17-19). It is also worth noting that, in the framework of reciprocal ethics that pervades the Homeric poems, ethical weight is placed on attitudes (for instance, the spirit in which gifts are given) as well as actions. This seems to explain Achilles’ asser­ tion that - in spite of Agamemnon’s massive offer of compensatory gifts - Agamemnon will not win over his t h u m o s until he has “paid back all my heart-grieving shame (0upa\yéa Xo>ßr|v)” (9.386387). What seems to underlie this statement is a sense that Agamemnon’s gifts have been given in a spirit of ostentatious (and enforced) generosity, which enhances the status of the giver rather than the receiver, and that they have not been accom­ panied by honest or direct apology or s u p p l i c a ­ t io n (Gill 1996, 143-147; cf. Donlan 1993). Similarly, O d y s s e u s ’ ruthless revenge against the S u i t o r s in Odyssey 22 seems to be conceived as punishment for the humiliation that he and his family have received - humiliation graphically portrayed in the preceding books - as well as for the material harm that the Suitors have done to his property and political standing. In this respect, Homeric ethics extends, rather than minimizing, the scope of moral responsibility. References and Suggested Readings For the view that the Homeric view o f responsibility is radically different from later Greek and modern thought, see Dodds 1951, ch. 1; Adkins 1960a, ch. 1; Snell 1953, ch. 1. For criticism and qualifications o f this view, see Lesky 2001 [1961] (on divine-human rela­ tions); Wilhams 1993, ch. 3; Cairns 2001b, 12-24.

CHRISTOPHER GILL

Returns (N ostoi) An early epic account o f the return o f the A c h a e a n s to Greece after the cap­ ture o f T r o y , in five books, now lost. It formed part o f the Epic C y c l e . Despite the repeated treat­ ment o f the subject matter by later poets, the specific contents o f the Returns are poorly known, as only a handful of short fragments remains, together with a very concise summary

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RETURNS

compiled by Proclus, perhaps the 5th-century ce Neoplatonist. Further details can be conjectured through comparison with the O d y s s e y and Apollodorus, but with little certainty. In antiquity the poem was ascribed to various poets. Proclus identifies the obscure Agias of Troezen as its author. Agamemnon and Menelaos feature promi­ nently in Proclus’ summary, and Athenaeus calls the poem the Homecoming o f t h e A t r e i d a i (fr. 4 Bernabé = fr. 3 West), unless this refers to a separate work. At the opening o f the summary Athene, no doubt angered by Ajax the Lesser’s violation o f her temple (cf. S a c k o f I l i o n sum­ mary, Apollod. Epit. 5.22-23), incites a quarrel between the brothers over the departure plans. Agamemnon remains at Troy to appease Athene’s wrath while Menelaos departs immediately and is driven off course to Egypt (cf. Od. 3.130-147 and Apollod. Epit. 6.1). When Agamemnon and the remainder of the army depart, Achilles’ ghost appears and warns of impending disaster, a remarkable omen apparently unheeded by the army. A storm then strikes the fleet off the Kapherian rocks and Ajax the Lesser perishes (cf. Od. 4.499-510). Proclus gives no details of Agamemnon’s landing, recording only that he is slain by Aigisthos and Klytaimnestra and avenged by Orestes and Pylades, after which Menelaos arrives home (cf. Od. 3.304-312). A Hellenistic Homeric bowl (fr. 10 Bernabé = West) purporting to illustrate the Nostoi shows Agamemnon’s men attacked while feasting, in accord with the accounts at Odyssey 4.529-537 and 11.405-420. The inclusion of Nauplios and his sons as recorded by Apollodorus at Library 2.1.5 (fr. 1 Bernabé = fr. 11 West) suggests that the poem knew of Nauplios’ attempts to corrupt the wives of the Greek heroes and to wreck the fleet (cf. Apollod. Epit. 6.7-11), or it may reflect a tra­ ditional alliance of Nauplios’ sons with Aigisthos against Orestes (cf. Paus. 1.22.6). Fragments 2 and 11 Bernabé, 12 and 13 West may refer to the assistance rendered by sons of Menelaos in the defeat of Aigisthos. Also prominent in Proclus’ summary is Neoptolemos, who follows T hetis’ advice and journeys home by land. Like Locrian Ajax, he may have been a target of divine wrath, having slain Priam at an altar of Zeus (cf. Sack o f Ilion

summary). He meets Odysseus at Maroneia (cf. Maron’s gift of wine to Odysseus at Od. 9.196-211), buries Phoinix, and is recognized by his grandfather Peleus in the land of the Molossians. The fragments contain no mention o f his death at Delphi or his dispute with Orestes over Hermione. Proclus also records that Nestor and Diomedes depart immediately after the capture o f Troy and return home safely (cf. Od. 3.157-183). Kalchas.Leonteus, and Polypoites travel on foot to Colophon, where the prophet T iresias (perhaps a manuscript error for Kalchas, cf. Apollod. Epit. 5.23.2-4) dies and is buried. The other surviving heroes, including Ioomeneus and Philoktetes, are not mentioned in the sum­ mary or the fragments. According to Pausanias 10.28.7 (fr. 3 Bernabé = fr. 1 West) the poem included mention of “Hades and the terrors there.” An Underworld scene could have accommodated several of the surviving fragments (firs. 4-9, 12, Bernabé = frs. 2-9 West), including references to Tantalos (fr. 4 Bernabé = fr. 3 West), Medea and Aison (fr. 7 Bernabé = fr. 6 West), and possibly Eriphyi.e (fr. 8 Bernabé = fr. 7 West). There is no evidence that the poem included an account of Odysseus’ journey to the Underworld, the only such journey otherwise attested for an Achaean hero. Perhaps then an Underworld scene like that in Odyssey 24 accom­ panied the death of one of the characters, possi­ bly Aigisthos or Agamemnon. The fragmentary remains of the Returns show close parallels to the homecoming traditions recorded in the Odyssey. Both poems, for exam­ ple, report the quarrel between Agamemnon and Menelaos (above), the safe return of Nestor and Diomedes, and Menelaos’ arrival in Egypt with exactly five ships (Returns summary, Od. 3 . 2 9 9 3 0 0 ) . Both poems must have drawn from a com­ mon corpus of homecoming songs. The Odyssey is composed against a background of tales like those collected in the Nostoi; see, for example, 1 . 3 2 6 - 3 2 7 , where P h e m i o s sings of the “grievous return” imposed upon the Achaeans by Athene. Odysseus’ relative absence from the Returns, on the other hand, suggests that this poem was com­ piled after the Odyssey had taken shape and become too widely known to require reca­ pitulation or to allow close imitation. The poem may then have taken the form of a catalogue of

RHAPSODES

established tales rather than a novel treatment of any single return. Divergences from the Odyssey, however, indicate that the Nostoi poet did not rely solely on Homer for inspiration: there is no record of Pylades in Homer; Homer knows noth­ ing of Neoptolemos’ land journey (cf. Od. 11.534-535) or of his association with the Molossians; and the account of Tantalos’ punish­ ment in fr. 4 Bernabé = fr. 3 West differs from that given at Odyssey 11.582-592. Thus the Nostoi may be regarded as cognizant of the Homeric epics but not necessarily derivative. References and Suggested Readings Bernabé; Davies, E G E ; West. D iscu ssion : Huxley 1969; Davies 1989a [2001].

E d itio n s :

M ICH AEL J. ANDERSON

Rhadamanthys CPaôápavGuç) To Zeus Europa bore Rhadamanthys and Minos (II. 14.321-322), obscure figures with pre-Greek names who pre­ sumably came into Greek traditions from Crete. Other sources give their brother as Sarpedon. In the O d y s s e y (7.321-324) the Phaeacians boast that they will return Odysseus home, even “if it is much beyond Euboea, which those of our people who saw it say is the farthest land; they trans­ ported red-haired Rhadamanthys there to visit T ityos, son o f Gaia.” The odd remark may be humorous, if directed to a Euboean audience. Tityos, who suffered in Hades for assaulting Leto (11.576-581), was from Boeotia whose port of Aulis, whence the Achaeans embarked for Troy, lay just across from Chalcis in Euboea. Rhadamanthys lives now in the Elysian Fields (4.563-564; see Elysium), for unclear reasons; not until Plato is he a judge in the Underworld (with Minos and Aiakos).

References and Suggested Readings Gantz 1993,259-260. BARRY B. PO W ELL

Rhapsodes (f5a\|/o>Soi) The word denotes recit­ ers of poetry, normally Homeric epic, though occasionally other poets such as Hesiod (PI. Leg. 658d), Semonides, Empedocles (Ath. 14.620cd);

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in 388 BCE Dionysios I sent rhapsodes to the Olympic Games to recite his own poetry (Diod. 14.109). The derived verb means “recite,” and patpcpôía “recitation,” especially of hexameter verse (see Meter). The term first occurs in the later 5th century, but it must be a good deal older. Herodotus (5.67.1) speaks of rhapsodes at Sikyon in the time of Cleisthenes in the early 6 th century, while Plato applies the term to the Homeric Phemios (Ion 533c) and in effect to Homer himself (Leg. 658b, d). Even if these are anachronisms, rhapsôidiai is likely to have been established in the 520s as the designation of the recitation-units into which the I l ia d and O d y s s e y were divided for performance at the Great Panathenaia (see Book Division). By derivation rhapsôidos means “stitcher of song”; the alternative ancient etymol­ ogy connecting it with rhabdos “rod” (schol. Pind. Nem. 2. Id) is indefensible. It must have been coined originally not for those who mechanically reproduced poetry learned by heart but for the bards who created it using the formulaic tech­ nique (see Formula). The Pseudo-Hesiod of fr. 357 M-W claims that he and Homer had celebrated Apollo on D elos, èv veapotç üpvoiç pávj/avTEç áoiôijv “stitching song in new hymns,” and Pindar (Nem. 2.1) refers to the Homeridae as pcurrtüv èhécüv ctoiôoí “singers o f stitched verses.” So although rhapsodes in the Classical period were essentially non-creative reciters of fixed texts, it is wrong to assume an original dis­ tinction between them and the creative aoidoi (see Singers). They were a familiar sight at those regional festivals and games that included “musical” besides athletic contests. At the Great Panathenaia at Athens, every four years, relays of rhapsodes were organized to perform the entire Iliad and Odyssey ( [PI.] Hipparch. 228b; Lycurg. Leoc. 102); there were prizes for the three best (IG II 2 2311.1 if rightly supplemented; cf. SEG 37.129). It was here, perhaps, that those reciting the Iliad wore red costume and those reciting the Odyssey pur­ ple (Eust. II. 6 .8 ). Elsewhere they would normally recite a single episode from Homer or other epic, perhaps prefacing it with a hymn to the god of the festival, of the type represented by the extant collection of “Homeric Hymns.” An early 5th-century Attic amphora depicts a rhapsode

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RHAPSO DES

performing, standing on a platform and holding a staff, with a (non-Homeric) hexameter com­ ing out of his mouth (British Museum E 270, Kleophrades Painter). The picture is filled out by literary evidence, above a!! Plato’s Ion. Ion, Socrates’ interlocutor, is a champion rhapsode from Ephesus; he comes fresh from a victory at the Ask l ep io s festival at Epidaurus. He claims to be an expert interpreter and expositor of Homer, uninterested in other poets. When he recites an exciting or moving episode, he is filled with emotion, and commu­ nicates it to his audience (535b-e). His art is akin to that of an actor (532d, 536a; cf. Resp. 395a; Alcid. Soph. 14; Arist. Rhet. I403b22). Rhapsodes wore fine costume (Ion 530b, 535d) and attracted crowds by a loud, melodious deliv­ ery (Diod. 14.109). They will have owned texts: in Xenophon a young man who has collected the complete works of Homer (evidently unusual at the time) is asked if he intends to become a rhapsode (Mem. 4.2.10). They no doubt often copied the poems for themselves, and as they knew them by heart (Xen. Symp. 3.6), and of course recited them from memory, this will have been a prime source of the textual variation characteristic of pre-Aristarchean copies (see Text

and

T r a n sm issio n ).

In both Xenophon passages rhapsodes are branded as stupid fellows, and in general their status was in decline. As entertainers they were becoming marginalized by musical virtuosi such as kitharodes and auletes; they had long aban­ doned their own simple lyres (see M usic). The pleasure of listening to them was perceived as an old men’s taste (PI. Leg. o58d). At Eretria, in the musical contests for Artemis instituted about 340 BC E, the prizes for rhapsodes were consider­ ably below those for kitharodes (IG XII [9],189.15-20). Alexander the Great, a lover of Homer, held contests for rhapsodes (Plut. Alex. 4.11) and had one perform at his Susa wedding feast (Chares, FGrHist 125 F 4), an example fol­ lowed by Ptolemy II (Plut. Mor. 736e). A rhap­ sode is once cited for a (mis)interpretation o f a Homeric line (schol. bT II. 21.26). But rhap­ sodes largely fade out of literature, except for antiquarian discussions such as those in Athenaeus 14.620a-d and scholia on Pindar Nemean 2.1. Their continued existence, however, is docu­ mented by inscriptions. A Thessalian and an

Athenian rhapsode performed for Apollo on Delos in 284 (IG XI [2], 105). At Iulis on Keos a portion of meat was provided for a rhapsode at games (SJG 3 958.35). A series of inscriptions record rhapsodes’ appearances at the Delphic Soteria between ca. 262 and 252 and between ca. 244 and 207, and in 105 three rhapsodes were included in a party of about a hundred perform­ ing artists sent from Athens for the Pythaid festival (SIG3 711 L 32). Later evidence comes predominantly from Boeotia: from the Romaia at Thebes, the Charitesia at Orchomenus, the Soteria and Ptoia at Acraephia, the Mouseia at Thespiae, the Sarapieia at Tanagra, and the Amphiaraa and Romaia at Oropus. The rhapsodes are mostly Boeotians, though there are some from Athens and other places; one from Heraclea won victo­ ries both at Orchomenus and in Euboea (IG VII 3196.6, XII [9). 139.9). At Acraephia and Thespiae attestation continues into the early 3rd century c b . Two of the victors at Acraephia also won the contest for heralds (IG VII 4151; B CH 27 [1903), 297); evidently a loud, strong voice was still char­ acteristic of the rhapsode. In the meantime another form of Homeric performer, more appealing to lowbrow tastes, had become established: the“Homerists”(Hdménstoi), who acted out Homeric scenes in the theater or in private rooms, wearing armor and fighting as they exchanged Homeric verses. Said to have been introduced by Demetrius of Phaleron (Ath. 620b), they are mentioned in several sources between the 1st and 3rd centuries: Petron. Sat. 59; Ach. Tat. 3.20.4; Artemid. 4.2; POxy. 519.4,1025.9,1050.26; POsl. 3.189.12; SB 7336.26-29; J. and L. Robert, RÊG 96 (1983), 184; Roueché 1993,18, cf. 22. See also Performance. References and Suggested Readings Patzer 1952; Sifekis 1967,73-74,83; West 2010. m a r t in l . w e s t

Rhea CPéa) A goddess of the Titan generation, daughter o f Earth (Gaia) and Sky (Ouranos). She is wife and sister o f Kronos, and mother o f the six older Olympians (Hestia, Demeter, Hera, Hades, Poseidon, and Zeus). Her important role in the unfolding of the cosmos is described in Hesiod’s Theogony (135,453-506). She is referred to twice

RHETO RIC AL FIGU RES OF SPEECH

in Homer’s I l i a d (and not at all in the O d y s s e y ) , both in speeches by her children (14.203,15.187). In the first of these Hera alludes to her time living witli her foster parents Ocean and Tethys. Rhea seems to have given Hera over to them when she was child, at a time “when Zeus cast Kronos down underneath earth and the barren sea” (14.203204). The reference implies that Zeus is much older than Hera, whereas earlier in the poem (4.59) Hera is the oldest of Rhea’s children (note too the order at Th. 453—458, which places Hera after Hestia and Demeter). R. Janko argues (1992, on 14.203-204) that the children swallowed by Kronos when they were given birth by Rhea (i.e., all but Zeus) did not mature inside him. Zeus therefore grows to manhood in the normal way, whereas Hera grows up only when she is disgorged by Kronos. This explanation seems also to lie behind Zeus’ claim to be stronger and older than Poseidon (15.164-167), which Poseidon himself does not really challenge (185-199). In the Homeric Hymns Rhea is a messenger of Zeus to Demeter (Hymn. Cer. 441-443), and plays a background role in the birth o f Apollo (Hymn. Ap. 93). S ee

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tern in the Troy tradition in which a new ally arrives, is initially successful, but is ultimately killed (Memnon, Penthesileia [see Ajthiopís ], Eurypylos [3]). The second has a f o l k t a l e quality that the Iliad typically avoids. So it seems likely that Rhesos is a traditional figure and that the poet who composed Book 10 has adapted the material to fit his purposes; neither story fits the Iliadic context (Fenik 1964, 5-16). A play attributed to Euripides, but probably by a 4th-century tragedian, partly follows Iliad 10. This Rhesos, however, is the son of a Muse, who makes him a “man-god” after his death, and Athene’s warning that he will be undefeatable if he survives the night (600-606) recalls the oracle. See also Doloneia. References and Suggested Readings Danek 1988. r u t h sc o d el

(2) A river in the Troad (II. 12.20; cf. Strab. 13.1.44). See also Ida.

also T itans. C H R ISTO PH ER JOH N M A C KIE

Rhesos ('Pf|ooç) (1) A Trojan ally from Thrace (see T hracians). During the night raid of Iliad 10, Odysseus and Diomedes learn from Dolon that the newly arrived Rhesos is at the edge of the Trojan camp. They kill him and twelve followers, and take his horses. We hear little about Rhesos himself, only about his splendid horses and his golden armor (II. 10.436-441); he becomes briefly pathetic when Diomedes takes his "honeysweet” life, an “evil dream” standing over his head (10.495-497). Rhesos and his horses are never mentioned again. Most scholars believe that the book is a later addition to the I lia d . The scholia on 10.435 preserve two stories: when Rhesos arrived, he fought so successfully that Hera instructed Athene to have Odysseus and Diomedes kill him by night (a lost poem of Pindar gave this version); or an oracle predicted that he and his horses would be invincible if they drank the water of Troy. There is a recurring pat­

Rhetorical Figures o f Speech Homeric style is rich in rhetorical figures. Identification and study of rhetorical figures and tropes goes back at least to the 4th century bce, and the ancient Greek and Roman literary critics found no difficulty in applying their analysis to the Homeric poems (see

Literary Criticism , Hellenistic and Roman). The most thorough surviving work is the Essay on the Life and Poetry o f Homer, once attributed to Plutarch and probably from his period (1st and 2nd century ce; Keaney and Lamberton 1996; see Ps.-Plutarch D e Homero), which devotes chap­ ters 16-26 to Homer’s tropes (tropoi, modifica­ tions of diction) and chapters 28-71 to his figures (skhêmata, modifications of syntax). R e p e t i t i o n o f a word or phrase (anaphora, epanaphora, pallilogia) is very frequent in Homer. Instructing his son on how to win a chariot race, Nestor declares none o f the other drivers knows better how to use cunning (m è t i s ), and goes on to bid him imbue his heart with it (II. 23.313), since by mètis are a woodcutter, a helms­ man, and a charioteer made better, “by cunning”

748

RHETO RICAL FIGURES OF SPEECH

standing emphatically as first word in three closely linked verses (23.315, 316, 318). Often there is simple repetition of a basic word, as en “on it" three times, before “earth ... and sky ... and sea,” before the verb “he made” as H e p h a i s t o s forges the S h i e l d o f A c h i l l e s (18.483, and similarly at 5.740, 14.216, 18.535). In the C a t a l o g u e o f S h i p s (2.671-673) the proper name N i r e u s is repeated three times initially; this is Ps.-Plutarch’s example o f epanaphora. Sometimes the sense is repeated but the word changed, as at 11.660-662 = 16.25-27 "Wounded is D i o m e d e s , / injured O d y s s e u s and A g a m e m n o n , / wounded too E u r y p y l o s ” (/ ßeßXr|Tou ... /oüxaaxai... / ßeßXqxai...). Similar is the case where A p o l l o reproaches the other g o d s for not preserving H e c t o r ’s corpse “to be seen by his wife and by his mother and by his child /and by his father P r i a m and by his people” (24.36-37). Often the repetition involves a change of case (known as polyptoton); examples are “Strongest of all men were these, / strongest they were, and with the strongest they fought” ( x a p T i o r o t . . . / Kápxiaxoi...Kapxíaxoiç, 1.266-267) and “killers and killed” (òXXúvxaç x’ òXXupévouç re, 11.83). This leads to the occasional tour deforce like “pear grows old upon pear, apple upon apple, / and grape-bunch upon grape-bunch, fig upon fig” (°YXvrl °YXVD ynpáoKei, prjXov ô ' è7ti pijAtp, | aúxàpèm axacpuXrj,axacpuXr|,oüKOVÔ’ èxtl oiiklo, Od. 7.120-121), and “ s h i e l d pressed against shield, h e l m e t helmet, and man man” (ácntlç áp' àcmiS' epEiÖE, Kópuç xópuv, àvépa 6 ' ávqp, 17.13.131). Wordplay (paronomasia) in various forms is also very common. Ps.-Plutarch lists only two examples, punning words of similar sound (II. 6.130-131 Sf)v f|v, which is perhaps not inten­ tional, and 2.758 ripóOooç 0oóoç)

In the I l i a d , Sisyphos of son o f Aiolos ([Hes.] Cat. fr. 10.2; see A e o l i d s ) , from whom G l a u k o s traces his descent, is kerdistos “the wiliest” of men (6.152-154). In the O d y s s e y (11.593-600) O d y s s e u s sees him in H a d e s as one of the three “sinners,” struggling to push a great boulder up a hill, only to have it roll back down, perpetually (see A f t e r l i f e ) . E

p h y r a

(= C

o r in t h

),

SK YL L A

Like A u t o l y k o s , with whom he feuds outside of Homer, Sisyphos is an archetypal trickster figure. Though he is firmly set in the earliest time periods of Greek m y t h , the fullest accounts are quite late. The Odyssey gives no reason for his punishment. Theognis (701-712) describes him as able to return from Hades. In Pherecydes (fr. 119 Jacoby = Fowler) Sisyphos catches and binds T h a n a t o s , preventing all deaths, until A r e s frees him. In the extra-Homeric tradition Sisyphos is often repre­ sented as Odysseus’ father (e.g., Soph. Phil. 417). BRUCE LOUDEN

Skamandrios (iKapávôpioç) (1) Alternative name for Astyanax, presumably related to the S kamandros River (see Names 3.5). H ector and Andromache called him “Skamandrios,” but the T rojans called him “Astyanax” ("lord of the city”) in honor of his father’s role as city defender (II. 6.402-403; cf. 22.506-507). The double nam­ ing reflects the contrast between Hector’s public life as Trojan champion and his private family life. Compare the alternate name given to K leopatre at I l i a d 9.561-564. (2) T roian, son of Strophios, who was taught h u n t i n g b y A r t e m i s . Slain by M e n e l a o s at Iliad 5.49-58. M IC H A E L J . A N D E R S O N

Skamandros (XKápavSpoç) The main river in the T r o a d (modern Menderes Su) flowing from Mt. I d a into the sea (cf. 12.19-23; see Map 3). It joins up with S i m o e i s , the other main river men­ tioned (5.774). The poet of the I l i a d introduces two names: “Skamandros” as used by humans, and “Xanthos” by the gods (this is explicit only at 20.74; see X a n t h o s [4]). Skamandros is also called a son o f Z e u s (14.433—434,21.1-2,24.692693), rather than a child of O c e a n , who usually fathers the rivers (14.245-246; Hes. Th. 337-345); and it has been surmised that this may refer to Zeus’ role as provider of the rain (Janko 1992, on 14.433-434). Skamandros is the main topographical land­ mark in the Iliad, and the general fighting takes place beside his flow (see G e o g r a p h y , t h e I l i a d ). In the C a t a l o g u e o f S h i p s the hordes o f Achaean soldiers pour forth from the huts and ships on to

807

the “Skamandrian plain” (a “flowery meadow,” 2.464-468). The affection of the Troians for their river is explicit throughout the Iliad (cf. 22.145156). H ector would cali his son “S kamandrios” (6.402-403, although others used "Astyanax”); and there is another Skamandrios at 5.49-58. In the T hbomachy Skamandros is lined up against Olympian H ephaistos (20.73-74), and this is followed by a graphic conflict between the two. He almost drowns Achilles in his flow (21.233-283), whereupon Hephaistos sets the river ablaze at the request of H era (21.331-382). The savage burning of the “fair-flowing” river is a powerful harbinger of the conflagration that will destroy the city itself (21.374-376). See also R ivers . CHRISTOPHER IOHN MACKIE

Skandea

see K y t h e r a .

Skolos ( X k ú X oç ) A city in Boeotia, mentioned in the C a t a l o g u e o f S h i p s (II. 2.497). It was sit­ uated between Mt. Kithairon and the A s o p o s River. There was a tradition that Skolos was the place from which Pentheus was brought to T h e b e s when he was torn to pieces by m a e n a d s (schol.; Strab. 9.2.23; Paus. 9.4.4). See also

B o e o t ia n s .

Skylla (ZKÚXXq) An immortal swallowing m o n ­ with six heads on long necks and twelve feet, described by K i r k e ( O d . 12.73-126). Skylla hangs her heads, with their three rows of teeth, out of her cave in the sheer cliff to fish for dolphins and sharks: she devours six men from O d y s s e u s ’ ship when he is distracted by C h a r y b d i s (12.201-259; Apollod. Epit. 7.20-21). Despite yelping like a new-born puppy (skulax), Skylla is terrible, implacable, savage, impossible to fight: all hope lies in escape. Although he arms for combat, Odysseus follows Kirke’s advice and does not fight Skylla. A second attack, Kirke advises, might be averted by calling on Skylla’s mother, Krataii's. Stesichorus (fr. 43 = schol. Ap. Rhod. 4.825-831) calls Skylla’s mother Lamia, but (perhaps following ster

808

SKYLLA

[Hes.] Cat. fr. 262 M-W), Acusilaus (fr. 42 Fowler) and Apollonius Rhodius (4.828-829) identify her mother with Hekate. T h e t i s led the Argonauts past Skylla (Ap. Rhod. 4.789-790, 827-831, 922955; Apollod. Bib. 1.9.25; see A r g o n a u t i c a ). In V e r g i l , H e l e n o s advises A e n e a s to avoid her by a detour (Aen. 3.420-432). On her location (in Europe), see Hecataeus F 82 Jacoby; Euripides (Med. 1342-1343) calls her Tyrrhenian, and she first appears in art on an Etruscan pyxis (late 7thearly 6th century b c e ) (Florence Archaeological Museum 73846). After the mid-5th century i k : e , Skylla (like Hekate) appears as a beautiful young woman, the dogs’ heads transposed to her waist (Lucr. 5.892-893; Prop. 4.4.39-40; LIMC 8.1, 1137-1145 and 8.2 pis. 784—792). Originally the fair beloved of the immortalized G l a u k o s , she was turned into a monster by the jealous Kirke (Ov. Met. 13.900-968, 14.1-74; Hygin. Fab. 199). H e r a k l e s killed Skylla because she robbed him of the cattle of Geryon, but her father, P h o r k y s (2), restored her to life by burning her with torches (Lycoph. Alex. 44-51, 649-651; cf. Acusilaus fr. 42 Fowler). See also

O

d y s s e u s

’ W

a n d e r in g s

.

References and Suggested Readings Vermeule 1979, 109 and fig. 26; Buitron-Oliver and Cohen 1995; Neils 1995. M A U REEN ALDEN

Skyros (XKOpoç) Skyros is the southernmost of the Sporades Islands in the Aegean. At Iliad 9.668 P a t r o k l o s sleeps next to I p h i s , a concubine acquired when A c h i l l e s sacked the island. At Iliad 19.326-333 Achilles indicates that his son N e o p t o l e m o s is being raised in Skyros. In the C y p r i a (according to the Proclus summary) Achilles sacked Skyros after the Teuthranian expedition (see M y s i a n s ) and then married Deidameia, the daughter of king Lykomedes. A two-line fragment o f the L i t t l e I l i a d states that a storm brought Achilles to Skyros. O d y s s e u s reports to the shade o f Achilles at their meeting in the U n d e r w o r l d (Od. 11.508-509) that he fetched Neoptolemos from Skyros to Troy, an epi­ sode also narrated in the Little Iliad, according to Proclus. S c h o l i a to the Iliad 19 passage attribute to the C y c l e a story of P e l e u s hiding Achilles in

female clothing at Skyros before the war. Odysseus and others discover him, but not before Achilles seduces Deidameia, leading to the birth of Neoptolemos. It is not clear how early epic poems conceived of these stories about Skyros, or whether their accounts are harmonious. By the Classical period the hiding of Achilles (usually by T h e t i s ) and the fetching of Neo­ ptolemos at Skyros were established narratives; the transvestite tale in particular was popular in antiquity (notably Stat. Achil. 1.198-960) and in post-antiquity. Skyros was also prominent in myth as the place where T h e s e u s was killed; in the 5th century b c e in response to an oracle Cimon brought the bones of Theseus from Skyros to Athens (Plut. Thes. 36.1-2). Jo

n a t h a n

S. B

u r g e ss

Slavery In their households, Homeric heroes have subservient workers who form part o f their wealth and allow them to “live well” (Od. 17.422423, 19.78-79). A few scholars view most or all of these people as free dependent workers, but most consider them slaves. Although distinct from the later chattel slavery, Homeric slavery has two of its characteristics; slaves are outsiders to the com­ munity, and they are bought and owned as part of the property (Fisher 1993, 11; cf. II. 19.333; Od. 7.225,19.526). Slavery in Homer, however, seems opportunistic rather than systematic, the calami­ tous bad luck of the one whom “the day of slavery seizes” (Od. 17.323; cf. 14.340, II. 6.463). The sources of slaves are kidnapping by traders, espe­ cially P h o e n i c i a n s ( E u m a i o s ) ; raids by brigands like the T a p h i a n s but also, it seems, by the heroes themselves (Od. 9.41, 1.398); and war. When a city was captured and sacked, the men were killed (II. 6.414-420) and the w o m e n (and the c h i l ­ d r e n who were not killed) were enslaved (24.730738). A c h i l l e s and P a t r o k l o s have slave women whom they acquired as booty, presumably by plundering cities in the U l o a d (18.28). A warrior captured alive in battle might be sold abroad but then ransomed out o f slavery by kin (II. 21.39—44; cf. 6.425-428 for ransom o f a female captive). The terms used for slaves tend to emphasize relationships rather than status. The most com­ mon word, dmôs, may be related to a word for “house” (see H o u s e s ) , although a derivation from a verb for “subjugate” cannot be ruled out

SLAV ERY

(whatever the etymology, the poet and his audience may have associated it with this verb). It is the most unvarnished way of referring to slaves. The masculine form often, and the feminine dm ôiai always, is used in the plural, when slaves are seen “from above” as an undifferentiated group. Oikeus designates a male slave as a (subor­ dinate) member of the household (oikos), and amphipolos a female slave when she sits with or accompanies the mistress or helps serve meals in the hall. A tamiê is a woman charged with over­ sight responsibilities in the house (“house­ keeper”): in the Odyssey, Euryklf. ia and Eurynome (2). Conspicuously rare in Homer are the two commonest words for slaves in later Greek, doulos and the brutal andrapoda (“manfooted,” by analogy with tetrapoda “four-footed,” hence "animals”). The avoidance of such words may reflect a “patriarchal” form of slavery or may be part of a tendency to mitigate the actual harsh­ ness of a relation of domination, which is gener­ ally revealed only indirectly. The only reference to beating a slave in Homer occurs when O d y s s e u s disguises himself as one for a spying mission in Troy (Od. 4.244), and the only indication of the squalid appearance of an agricultural slave comes when Odysseus pretends to mistake his father for one (24.226-231). In the Odyssey, the memorable portrayals of Eurykleia, Eumaios, and others individualize slav­ ery, but slaves as a group are always in the back­ ground in whatever house a scene is set, ready to do the menial labor that sustains the elite fam­ ily’s style of living (in the I l i a d , H e l e n and A n d r o m a c h e also have their slave women). The female slaves weave and do household chores: they grind meal (Od. 20.105-108), and in prepa­ ration for the f e a s t they fetch water, sweep the hall, put fresh covers on the chairs, scrub the tables, and wash the cups and wine-bowls (20.149-156). They help serve and tend the lamps during the feast (1.136-148, 18.307-311). The “housekeeper” has charge o f the storerooms (2.345-347). Male slaves do the heavy chores in the house, such as cutting wood (20.160-161), and they carve meat and serve the w i n e at feasts, but their main tasks are outside: agricultural work (17.297-299) and animal husbandry. This servile division of labor reflects the g e n d e r relations in the elite f a m il y , with women remaining and working inside the house and men active outside.

809

The slaves betray or remain loyal to Odysseus in gendered ways as well. M e l a n t h i o s gives practical aid to the S u i t o r s , kicks the beggar Odysseus, and fetches armor for the Suitors in the final battle, whereas Eumaios and P h i l o i t i o s fight on Odysseus’ side. The disloyal women sleep with the Suitors. They dishonor Odysseus, not in exactly the same way as an adulterous Penelope would but because they defy the control that he, as their owner, should have over their bodies. But they can express the possibilities that can only be hinted at in Penelope’s case (Thalmann 1998, 72-73; Fulkerson 2001-2002, 343-345). The dis­ loyal male slaves, similarly, express a threat to Odysseus’ authority within his house that paral­ lels the threat to his preeminence on I t h a c a that the Suitors pose. Thus the slaves enact in a par­ ticularly pointed way the social and political issues that divide the elite. They are therefore depicted not for their own sake but according to how their behavior affects their masters. The division of slaves into "good” and “bad” (also defined according to the masters’ interests) has parallels in later antique and other slave soci­ eties and helps justify slavery. “Bad” slaves deserve their position by their moral inferiority. Eumaios’ statement that Zeus “takes away half o f a man’s goodness ( a r e t ê ) when the day o f slavery seizes him” (17.322-323) naturalizes slavery long before the conceptual distinction between Greek and “ b a r b a r i a n ” served the same end. Slavery may be an arbitrary misfortune, but Z e u s contrives that moral qualities match social debasement. The “good” slave, by contrast, offers a positive paradigm; the master/slave relation seems almost reciprocal. The two versions are incompatible: why should the “good” slave be a slave at all? But each works in the Odyssey in its own way to make slavery a powerful model o f hierarchical order. See also C l a s s . References and Suggested Readings For attempts to minimize slavery in Homer, see Beringer 1960, 1982, and Wickert-Micknat 1983. For brief but discerning overviews o f slavery in Homer, see Garlan 1988 [ 1982], 2 9-37, and Fisher 1993,10-14. On termi­ nology see Ramming 1973 and Gschnitzer 1976, and on the Odyssey’s representation o f slaves Thalmann 1998, 49-107. w il l ia m g . t h a l m a n n

810 Sleep

SLEEP

see H

y p n o s

.

Smintheus (XpivOeúç) Smintheus is A p o l l o ’s epithet in Iliad 1: he is the god whose sanctuary in Chryse in the T r o a d is tended by C h r y s e s who claims to have “roofed his t e m p l e .” In historical times, the sanctuary was identified with a temple on a hill close to the sea near Cape L e k t o n (Strab. 13.1.46-48); its remains were found near Giilpmar. The phonetic structure o f the e p i t h e t points to its non-Greek nature (see N a m e s 3.6); the anthroponym Si-m i-te-u, possibly Smintheus, is attested in M y c e n a e a n K n o s s o s (see L i n e a r B). Greeks connected it with a Cretan word for mouse, sminthos, according to the aetiological myths (Strab. l.c.; Ael. NA 12.5; schol. II. 1.39). The people of Chryse were said to have commis­ sioned a marble mouse from Scopas for the tem­ ple image; local coins from Imperial times show Apollo and the mouse. In a questionable hypoth­ esis, historians of religion constructed Apollo as a protector against rodents. F R IT Z G RA F

Society, Homeric “Homeric” or “epic” society is here understood as the society that in the epics’ depiction forms the background in and against which the events, retrojected into a distant H e r o i c A g e , take place and the heroes act and suffer. Unlike the foregrounded and heroically elevated events and actors, this social background is not entirely but sufficiently consistent to be situated historically: it corresponds essentially to the poet’s own or a slightly older world and time (see H i s t o r i c i t y o f H o m e r ) . Moses Finley”s classic The World o f Odysseus (1954 [1978]), although partly outdated, remains valuable; later discussions include C. Ulf (1990, 2009); H. van Wees (1992); K. Raaflaub (1997a); and R. Osborne (2004,2009 [1996], ch. 5). Homer’s world encompasses large parts o f the eastern and central Mediterranean and glimpses o f distant regions beyond (Dickie 1995; Dougherty 2 0 0 1 ) . The S h i e l d o f A c h i l l e s conceptualizes the world by drawing a basic cosmic and world map arranged in concentric circles and juxtapos­ ing a community (polis) in peace (symbolized by wedding, trial, and farmlife) and one in war with a city siege, ambush, and battle (II. 18.483-608;

Fittschen 1973; Snodgrass 1998). The geographer S t r a b o praised Homer as the first geographer (Dueck2000, 31-40). In the contrasting juxtapo­ sition (Od. 6.3-8) of the C y c l o p e s ’ totally atom­ ized society with no commonalities (9.105-115) and the idealized P h a e a c i a n society (Books 6-8, 13), the Odyssey similarly conceptualizes p o l i s and non-polis, civilization and barbarism, and it reflects in imaginative ways on other societies depicted in the world of O d y s s e u s ’ adventures (Vidal-Naquet 1986 [1981], 15-38; Segal 1994, part 1; see also U t o p i a s ) . The poet thus grasps, expresses, and visualizes crucial political and cul­ tural concepts. In his world the polis stands in the center of identity, life, and actions. The terminol­ ogy he uses is consistent: dêmos (land, district, people) designates the largest conceivable social unit; gaia (land) and patrê (fatherland) often mean the same as dêmos and polis. Polis and astu describe the main settlement but polis refers also to the wider political and religious community. Thus Odysseus asks N a u s i k a a about the people (anthrôpoi) who live in this land (gaiti) and com­ munity (polis), and about the way to town (astu, Od. 6.177—178). Throughout, the poet focuses on the sphere of life that is most important for the plot, the main actors, and their actions: the elite leaders and their followers in warfare, and the households (oikoi) and public sphere that form the polis. Other activities (farm life, crafts, or trade) receive attention only when the plot requires it. The poet is a narrator, not a social analyst; hence coverage cannot be expected to be even, and arguments from silence or conclusions based on rareness of attestation are hazardous. Nor should numbers (indicating time or the size of fleets, slave groups, or herds) be taken literally. To begin with the oikos (Walter 1993, 45-57; see H o u s e h o l d ) , among various types of farms (Od. 14.5 ft, 24.205 ft), those of Odysseus and the Phaeacian leader A l k i n o o s (6.292-294,7.84132) stand out. The mansion (dôma) in town contains the great hall where the leader entertains his fellow nobles and guests (7.95 ft), the living quarters of family, servants, slaves, and retainers, and space for a n i m a l s and storage (see H o u s e s ) . Alkinoos’ palace shows fantastic traits, inspired by N e a r E a s t e r n models (Cook 2004), but Odysseus’ dôma is no more than a large farmhouse, including a dung heap (17.297-299), surrounded

SOCIETY,

by gardens, orchards, and fields near town, and various farms and herds in the country (14.100108), the primary source of wealth and managed by trusted servants (Richter 1968; Drerup 1969, 128-133; Finley 1978 [1954], chs. 3-4; Hanson 1995, ch. 2; see A g r i c u l t u r e ) . With exceptions (below), the most fertile land near town is private property (Hennig 1980; Donlan 1989b). Outlying areas are available for common pasture but mar­ ginal land (eskhatia) can be turned into a farm (18.356-361, 24.205-231). Within the oikos, the owner is absolute master who punishes unfaithful servants or slaves (22.419—477) and rewards the faithful (21.214-216,14.62-66). Trading services for protection, various dependent but free per­ sons are attached to an oikos: retainers (therapontes, van Wees 1992,42-44,104-105,118-120) and followers (hetairoi, Ulf 1990, ch. 4; Donlan 1994), including refugees ( P h o i n i x , P a t r o k l o s : II. 9.447-483, 23.84-90). The larger the number of followers, the greater a leader’s status and power (1.277-281,2.576-580). An elite of leaders, varying in numbers (Od. 8.390-391), owners of large oikoi, distinguish themselves by birth, wealth, and power. Called b a s i l e i s , among other designations (see b o u l ê ), they are not “kings” but members of an emerging a r is t o c r a c y (Drews 1983; Carlier 1984, ch. 2; Stein-Hölkeskamp 1989, ch. 2; Ulf 1990, ch. 3; van Wees 1992; Donlan 1999, ch. 1). Nor is the paramount b a s i l e u s ( A g a m e m n o n , Alkinoos, Odysseus) a monarch and ruler. True, Odysseus warns against having many masters ( p o l u k o i r a n i ê ) . "Let there be one master ( k o i r a n o s ), one leader ( b a s i l e u s ) , to whom [Zeus] gives the scepter and the right of judgment, to watch over his people” (II. 2.204-206), but this is spoken in war and cri­ sis. True too, leadership is sanctioned by Z e u s (which applies to all b a s i l e i s ) , Agamemnon’s s c e p t e r comes from Zeus (2.100-108; Griffin 1980,9-10; Easterling 1989; see K i n g s h i p ) , some leaders plan to give away entire cities (9.149-156; cf. Od. 4.174-177 - difficult to explain: Hainsworth 1993,77-78; Raaflaub 1993,91 n. 35), and they can ignore the will of a s s e m b l y and fellow nobles but Agamemnon (Iliad I ) and H e c t o r (18.243313) here offer negative examples, not to be imitated (Raaflaub 2000, 31). Overall, the para­ mount leader holds an inherited but precarious position as primus inter pares or “a bit more,” depending on the person (Finley 1970 [ 1981], 86).

HOMERIC

811

The basileis’ self-presentation emphasizes grandeur and exclusiveness (II. 2.200-202), the poet’s selective focus suggests that they totally dominate in war and politics, and Finley con­ cludes (1978 [1954], 53) that “a deep horizontal cleavage” runs between them and all the rest. C. G. Starr (1977, ch. 6; cf. Strasburger 1953; Murray 1993 [1980], 68) postulates a much smaller gap: the basileis are essentially exceptionally large and wealthy farmers. The gap probably varied greatly and was decisive in some ways, much less in oth­ ers (below). The elite’s wealth certainly lies in land and herds. Although Odysseus claims supe­ rior skills in farm work and building (Od. 18.365375; cf. 5.241 ff., 23.189 ff.), the master supervises his men’s work rather than participating in it (II. 18.550-560). Moreover, his resources permit a refined lifestyle (Latacz 1984). Due again to poetic selection, non-elite farmers are hardly visible; we find them in H e s i o d ’s (only slightly younger) Works and Days: hard-working, with few animals, servants, and slaves, they range from the decently well-off to those threatened by poverty, and may look to elite leaders, polis, and agora with more suspicion than admiration, relying primarily on their neighbors (Millett 1984; van Wees 2009). Yet these men form the backbone o f the com­ munity. Although the oikos’ material and person­ nel resources support an individual’s claim to high status, such status depends on communal approval and needs to be justified by good leader­ ship and service (II. 1.117, 2.233-234, 12.310ff.; Hector as model leader: 6.403, 441-446, below). It is the community (the assembled demos) that distributes the honorary share ( g e r a s ) to the leaders and the rest of the booty equitably among all fighters (1.123-129, 2.226-228, 9.318-319; Od. 9.39-42), assigns to deserving persons a piece of the best land as t e m e n o s (and therefore con­ trols part of the land: II. 6.194—195, 12.313-314; Donlan 1989b; Gschnitzer 2001, 183-185), com­ pensates the basileis for exceptional expenditures incurred in representing the community (Od. 13.13-15; Gschnitzer 1980, 184-188; Carlier 1984, 151-162; Donlan 1999, 19-20), and wit­ nesses and approves communal action. The h e r ­ a l d s invite all men, the entire community, to the assembly, assemblies are held whenever and wher­ ever a decision needs to be made, and the leader ignores the assembly’s expressed opinion at his peril. The demos is thus politically significant.

812

S O C IE T Y , HOM ERIC

Socially, too, relations between commoners and elite are complex and differentiated. True, persons with low status are often despised and mistreated (see C l a s s , and below). But the l a o i (Haubold 2000), the majority of the demos, including retainers and other followers (as T e l e m a c h o s ’ case suggests [Od. 2.382 ff.], h e t a i r o i can comprise independent townspeople), are a different matter: they are neither submissive nor called k a k o i (bad, mean) in later negative termi­ nology; positive terms like a g a t h o i and h ê r ô e s apply to them too, and leaders who depend on them treat them with respect and care (12.260-402; Donlan 1999, 24-25). The ideal leader is just (II. 16.384-392; Od. 19.109-114), a shepherd o f his people ( p o i m ê r t l a ô n , I I. 2.243). In w a r f a r e too the commoners play a signifi­ cant role (Latacz 1977; van Wees 1994, 1997a, 2004; Ilaaflaub 1997c, 2008; Singor 2009). The I l i a d naturally overemphasizes the superb per­ formance ( a r i s t e i a ) of elite warriors; the masses seem mostly to serve as “cannon fodder.” Hector, in particular, bears the quality of the savior in his name, and the people name his son A s t y a n a x (lord of the city) “since Hector alone saved the city” (6.402-403; cf. 22.506-507; Nagy 1979 [1999], 145-146). Yet this picture is one-sided, and careful attention to details and the poet’s n a r r a t i v e technique reveals a different reality, in which the masses are not only present in battle but contribute decisively to its outcome: all (a o l l e e s ) the T r o j a n s and A c h a e a n s attack and fight (13.136, 15.312 and 277). In the “Patrokleia” of Book 16, the M y r m i d o n s excel in a collective aristeia that parallels their leader’s. Each ( h e k a s t o s ) is eager to fight (210-211,275-276); they are all, like Patroklos, A c h i l l e s ’ companions and fol­ lowers (268-275). No one is expendable (12.269271, 13.223 and 237), appeals for help are addressed to all l a o i (2.354—368,16.495—501), and s i m i l e s focus on images and sound effects that evoke the immense number o f soldiers, the vio­ lence o f their clash, and the horrendous noise caused by their fighting. Recognition that dense formations and discipline facilitate success occa­ sionally signals ideas anticipating the hoplite phalanx (17.364-365). The modalities of booty distribution confirm basic equality among the fighters (above). The characteristics later connected with citizenship (land ownership, military capacity,

political participation) thus seem already present (although neither formalized nor acknowledged as such: a s t o i [II. 11.242; Od. 13.192] or p o l i t a i [II. 15.558,22.429; Od. 7.131) designate townspeople, permanent members of the community). But this does not apply to all polis inhabitants. Retainers ( t h e r a p o n t e s and h e t a i r o i , above) are part of the powerful o i k o i or assembled for specific actions (raids or travel); somewhat comparable with the c l i e n t e s of powerful Roman families (Cornell 1995, 289-291), they can but do not need to be a part of the community. D ê m i o e r g o i (who do d ê m i a e r g a , work for the demos) are specialists, mostly itiner­ ant, such as builders, craftsmen, artists, doctors, seers, and bards (Od. 17.382—385; Eckstein 1974, 34-38; Qviller 1980; Gschnitzer 1981, 33-34). Though appreciated for their skills, they remain outsiders. The divine smith and artist H e p h a i s ­ t o s , admired, ridiculed, and handicapped, reflects their ambivalent status (Hermary and Jacquemin LIMC 4, 257-280; Burkert 1985, 167-168). Achilles, complaining that Agamemnon has dis­ graced him as if he were a m e t a n a s t ê s , without honor (a t i m ê t o s , II. 9.647-648, 16.59), illustrates the precarious position of the “resident alien” ( m e t a n a s t ê s ) . Even if Odysseus’ C y c l o p s adven­ ture is extreme (Od. 9.105-115; cf. 7.32-33), for­ eigners and travelers are vulnerable; hence they, like other outsiders and weak members of society, are protected by Zeus himself (14.56-58; Finley 1978 [1954], 100-102; Havelock 1978, ch. 9). Craftsmen are mentioned only in passing; they seem to be part o f an o i k o s , where most o f the work is done (Eckstein 1974, part 1; Schneider and Hägermann 1991, 63-72; S. Morris 1992, ch. 1; Donlan 1997; see H a n d i c r a f t s ) . Markets too come up rarely ( w i n e : II. 7.467, 9.71-72; i r o n : 23.834-835: see E x c h a n g e ) . Long-distance trade (Finley 1978 [1954], 66-71; Kopeke 1990; Tandy 1997; Reed 2003, ch. 7; von Reden 1995, ch. 3; see E c o n o m y ) , easily associated with piracy (Od. 3.71-74; de Souza 1999, 17-22; see T a p h i a n s ) , is controlled by P h o e n i c i a n s ; their precious goods are admired but they are often viewed as crooks and with suspicion (9.125-130, 14.288 ff., 15.346 ff.; Coldstream 1982; Latacz 1990). Professional trade, pursued for gain, carries low prestige; to be called a trader “grasping for pro­ fit” is a serious offense (8.159-164; see C l a s s ) . TWo other forms o f acquisition or exchange are more respectable: raiding (as practiced by Achilles

SOLYMI

813

during the siege of Troy [II. 6.414—428,9.315-335, administer the oikos when the men are away. They 20.188-194] and Odysseus [Od. 9.39-61, 14.222- are free to speak with foreigners, move about 234]; van Wees 1992, 207-258) and gift-exchange town, and participate in religious ceremonies among elite leaders and “guest-friends” (xenoi\ (II. 6.269 ff.), but are quickly reminded of their Finley 1978 [1954], 99-103; Herman 1987: see place (6.490—493; Od. 1.356-359). Penelope in G u e s t -F r ie n d s h ip ), a well-established a n d Odysseus’ absence (Katz 1991; Felson [= Felsonimportant institution with an international Rubin] 1994), A r e t f , (Od. 6 and 7), and H elen in dimension, illustrating far-reaching relations S p a r t a (4.120 ff.) play powerful roles, and the among the elite (Donlan 1981-1982, 1989a; von magical K a l y p s o and K i r k e are in full control of Reden 1995, chs. 1-2). their lives, but all these are not experiences typi­ The worker for hire (this) holds the lowest sta­ cal and expected of women. Negative statements tus among free men (see C l a s s ) . Unprotected and about women are rare (24.191-202; cf. 15.20-23), despised because of his dependence on others, he marital harmony, exemplified by Hector’s and is liable to be insulted and cheated {Od. 18.356— Odysseus’ marriages, is praised (6.180-185), and 375; cf. II 21.441-452; Finley 1978 [1954], 57-58, fidelity is considered the norm (1.429-433; II. 71). Achilles thus would prefer rather than being 9.446-452; Zeitlin 1995). first among the dead to be a thês among the living KURT A. RAAFLAÜB (Od. 11.489-491) - not a slave. The epic portrait of sl a v e r y bears this out (Gschnitzer 1976, 1981, 16ff.; Finley 1978 [1954], 58-59; Wickert-Micknat Sokos ( H ò k o i ; ) T r o j a n , son of Hippasos and 1983; Garlan 1988 [1982], 29-37; Thalmann brother of C h a r o p s (1), introduced as “a man of 1998): slaves are often better off, cared for by great wealth” and “godlike” (II. 11.427—428). their masters (15.363-365,18.321-323) and hold­ When trying to protect his brother at the Battle ing positions of trust ( E u m a i o s , E u r y k l e i a in for the Wall, Sokos severely injured O d y s s e u s Odysseus’ oikos). Despite exaggerated numbers and was eventually killed by him (11.426—458). (20.107, 22.420-424), they are relatively rare and, As a result of the w o u n d inflicted by Sokos, if skilled, valuable (1.430—431; II. 23.705). Odysseus had to leave the battlefield and with­ Functional and status-neutral terms (dmôs, oikeus draw to the ships. [> dôma, oikos], drêstêr [doer], amphipolos [person being around the lady]) prevail over technical See also M i n o r W a r r i o r s . terms for slaves (doulos and derivatives). Function and closeness to the master thus seem more impor­ tant than personal status: Odysseus’ faithful slaves Soliloquies see M o n o l o g u e s . are promoted within the oikos rather than manu­ mitted (Od. 21.214-216). Still, slaves have no con­ trol over their lives: they can be exploited and Solymi (EóXupot) Tribe o f semi-mythical war­ punished cruelly (20.105-119, 22.420-477), and riors generally located by Greek historians in their condition reduces their quality ( a r e t ê ) by southern A n a t o l i a , in northeast Lycia (Strab. half (17.320-323). Hector’s prediction of A n d ­ 13.4.16; see L y c i a n s ) . In G l a u k o s ’ narrative in r o m a c h e ’s pitiable fate after Troy’s fall belongs Iliad 6 fighting the glorious Solymi is the sec­ among the most moving testimonies (II. ond labor imposed on B e l l e r o p h o n , after the 6.450-465). C h i m a i r a and before the A m a z o n s (6.184; see The epics’ social portrait of w o m e n is complex G l a u k o s - D io m e d e s E p i s o d e ) . Later his son and rich, illustrating their many functions and Isandros (Peisandros in S t r a b o , loc. cit.) was slain statuses and their emotional life (Arthur 1973 by the Solymi (6.203-204). In the O d y s s e y [1984]; Wickert-Micknat 1982; Fantham et al. P o s e i d o n spies O d y s s e u s from the mountains of 1994, ch. 1; Cohen 1995; Felson and Slatkin 2004). the Solymi, apparently at the other end of the They produce and raise heirs, supervise slave women' Mediterranean (5.283). For later traditions, see and storerooms, participate in some women’s Kosmetatou (1997) and Gonzales (2005). activities (especially weaving, II. 3.125-128; Od. 2.93-110), preside over the household and IAN C. RUTHERFORD

814

SONGS

Songs (doiSai) In the world portrayed in the Homeric poems the verbal arts are performative, for w r i t i n g appears only as a primitive (II. 7.175-176) or exotic (6.168-169) technology. Much of what later Greeks called poetry (poiêsis) is presented in Homer as forms of song (aoidê, action noun of the verb aeidein “to sing”). The epics refer to a variety of types or genres of song, distinguishable above all by social context. Cult song is represented by the p a e a n sung to A p o l l o by a group of young Greek soldiers and by the thkênos or formal l a m e n t (24.720-722). There are references to the humenaios and other wed­ ding songs (18.493; Od. 4.17); on the S h i e l d o f A c h i l l e s , a boy sings the LiNos-song to a k i t h a r a for young men and women at harvest (II. 18.570; Hdt. 2.79 discusses its N e a r E a s t e r n origins and parallels). W o m e n ’s work songs are exemplified by K a l y p s o ’s and K i r k e ’s singing while they weave (Od. 5.61, 10.221), and shep­ herds on the Shield of Achilles take delight in their pipes (suringes, II. 18.526). Other kinds of song are alluded to more subtly. The later-named “maiden song” (partheneion) appears as a tem­ plate shaping the action in Odyssey 6 when the marriageable N a u s i c a a spontaneously begins to lead her maids in a song and d a n c e (rjpxETO po\itf|ç, 6.101) while an admiring O d y s s e u s looks on. Similarly oblique is the mourning song evoked when the captive Trojan women lament the fallen P a t r o k l o s in A c h i l l e s ’ camp (II. 19.282-300). It is possible that the story of T h a m y r i s ’ disastrous challenge of the M u s e s in a contest in singing and playing the kitharis (2.595600) has been fabricated as a mythical prototype for contemporary contests in singing to the kithara. Homer’s heroes enjoy hearing s i n g e r s per­ form at f e a s t s while men drink (Od. 1.154, 13.7-9); guests themselves could sing when tipsy (Od. 14.464). When Achilles consoles himself in his tent by singing “the glorious deeds o f men” (II. 9.189), this is a sign o f his princely education as well as o f his isolation (cf. 3.54). Among musi­ cal performers, the Odyssey gives extended descriptions o f professional singers whose reper­ toires include heroic narratives suggesting Homeric and Cyclic epic (see C y c l e , E p i c ) . Phemios performs “the return [nosfos] o f the A c h a e a n s ” (1.326; see Returns ) and “the baleful destruction of the D a n a a n s ” (1.346-347) for the

S u i t o r s on I t h a c a ; the P h a e a c i a n D e m o d o k o s sings “the quarrel between Odysseus and Achilles, son of P e l e u s ” (8.75) and “the fashioning of the W o o d e n H o r s e ” (8.487-521) before an audience that includes Odysseus in disguise. Demodokos also performs a light-hearted tale about A r e s and A p h r o d i t e (8.266-369), a hymn-like entertain­ ment in theme and perhaps in ethos (see H y m n s , H o m e r i c ) . This is accompanied in some fashion by agile male dancers. The g o d s sing as well, pro­ viding divine prototypes of human song. At the funeral for Achilles recounted in the Odyssey, T h e t i s leads the N e r e i d s in the dirge (thrênos, Od. 24.55-61); the same personnel lament Patroklos in the I liad (8.39ff.). On O l y m p o s , a kithara-playing Apollo leads the Muses in a maid­ ens’ choral song (II. 1.604), a form for which the S ir e n s provide an infernal counterpart (Od. 12.189-193). Earlier approaches attempted to extract from this material a prehistory of Greek song and song types, often resorting to speculative etymologies and imposing an unwarranted homogeneity on evidence that incorporates diverse elements from different periods and places. Caution must also attend literary approaches that attempt to recon­ struct the implicit poetics of Homeric poetry. Although self-reference by the poet seems undeni­ able when Demodokos sings songs about Odysseus in the Odyssey (see S e l f - R e f e r e n t i a l i t y ) , the feet that Odysseus is in the audience is a sign that a degree of i r o n y and fictionality attend such scenes.

See also Music. References and Suggested Readings Grimm LfgrB s.v. àoiôrj; Ford 1997. ANDREW L . FORD

Soul

see P

s y c h e

.

Sounion (Xovviov) Cape Sounion, “the sacred promontory o f A t h e n s ” (Od. 3.278), is the south­ eastern point o f Attica. This is where M e n e l a o s , on his way back from Troy, buried his helmsman P h r o n t i s (2), who died at sea (279-284). One o f the rare Homeric references to a location in Attica that is not Athens (see further A t h e n i a n s ) .

SOUTH

South Slavic Heroic Epic The analogy to South Slavic heroic epic has a long, rich history in Homeric studies, and has been extremely influential in understanding the structure and art of the I l i a d and O d y s s e y . The major reason is the opportu­ nity to study a living oral epic tradition through the actual performances of guslari, or bards, who composed lengthy poetic narratives in perform­ ance (see C o m p o s i t i o n - i n - P e r f o r m a n c e ) . These song-performances amount to instances drawn from a large, open-ended constellation of mythic and semi-historical stories. When one adds that the South Slavic witness is also far the most thor­ oughly documented oral epic tradition in Europe, with thousands of examples available as either acoustic recordings or dictated transcripts, its unparalleled importance as a latter-day window on the manuscript remains of ancient Greek epic clearly emerges. While the field work undertaken by Milman P a r r y , Albert L o r d , and Nikola Vujnovic has generated the most recent attention, studies of South Slavic heroic epic - often with explicit comparisons to Homer - began much earlier. Native scholars from various parts of the former Yugoslavia made extensive field collections and published numerous edited transcriptions (see Bynum 1986, 302-310). Most prominent among these are the 19th-century collections by Kosta Hörmann of seventy-five Muslim epics (1888— 1889; Buturovié 1992) and by Vuk Karadzic of four volumes of Christian epic and lyric songs (1841-1862/1975). In the early years of the 20th century, a group of investigators, all cited by Parry, began to shed light on the composition of the South Slavic heroic epics. In 1908 Friedrich Krauss described the formulaic structure of these performances (see F o r m u l a ) , and the next year Arnold van Gennep attempted an answer to the H o m e r i c Q u e s t i o n based on the singers’ deployment of what he called "clichês.” Marcel Jousse (1990 [1925]) examined the psychological basis behind oral style, and Gerhard Gesemann (1926) con­ tributed the idea of the “composition-scheme,” a large-scale, adaptable narrative pattern, as well as of fieldwork-based experiments designed to test singers’ ability to learn and improvise new stories. But the greatest influence on Parry and Lord was the Slovenian scholar Matija Murko, who was present at Parry’s defense of his 1928 theses on

SLAVIC

HEROIC

EPIC

815

Homer at the University of Paris. Murko was primarily a philologist, but he spent many sum­ mers traveling through the former Yugoslavia and researching such topics as the singers’ social con­ text, learning process, repertoires, p e r f o r m a n c e characteristics, fidelity to history, and making of new songs. He also included multiple compari­ sons to Homer, as well as to Russian, Romance, Germanic, and Celtic analogues. Murko’s work (esp. La Poésie populaire épicjue en Yougoslavie au début du XXe siècle [1929]; part 1 translated in OT5 [1990], 107-130) encouraged Parry to think in terms of a living oral epic tradition and, by extension, of the possibilities inherent in com­ parative studies. When Parry and Lord traveled to the former Yugoslavia in 1933-1935 to experience South Slavic heroic epics, then, they intended to move beyond Parry’s text-based analyses and hypoth­ esis of a Homeric oral tradition. They aimed to study and record a verifiably oral epic tradi­ tion as an analogy to the now-lost tradition that produced the I l i a d and O d y s s e y . Their “living laboratory” consisted of six areas or “centers”: Novi Pazar, Biielo Polje (home to A v d o M e d j e d o v i C, the most talented guslar they encountered), Kolasin, Gacko, Stolac (home to Halil Bajgoric, among others), and Bihac. Overall, they sought to interview and collect pri­ marily from non-literate singers in the Muslim epic tradition, which, for historical and sociocul­ tural reasons, produced longer, more elaborate, and thus more Homeric performances than the cognate Christian tradition. Most of the narra­ tives they collected fall into four subgenres or story-patterns: Wedding, Rescue, Siege of City, or Return (the story-pattern of the Odyssey, Foley 1999, 115-167). The result o f their labors from 1933 to 1935 was what Lord described as “a half-ton of epic,” referring to the sheer weight of the aluminum records on which they acousti­ cally recorded performances by guslari. Taken together, the Milman Parry Collection contains 12,544 songs, conversations, and stories in vari­ ous media (Kay 1995: xv), and the Lord Collection, made in 1951-1952, includes many hundreds more. Parry did not live to realize his dream of publi­ cation, but in 1954 Lord began the series SerboCroatian Heroic Songs, which presents examples of epic singing from different districts. To date, in

816

SOUTH

SLAVIC

HEROIC

EPIC

addition to Novi Pazar (vols. 1-2), it contains song-performances from Bijelo Polje (vols. 3—4, 6) and Bihac (vol. 14). Full exposition of the anal­ ogy between South Slavic heroic epics and Homer was the primary subject of Lord’s classic The Singer o f Tales (1960 (2000]), which includes comparative analyses o f formulaic and thematic structure (see T h e m e ) , as well as an account of the guslar’s learning process and applications to Old French, Byzantine Greek, and Anglo-Saxon o r a l - d e r iv e d poetry. Recently an edition of Halil Bajgoric’s The Wedding o f Mustajbey’s Son Becirbey has appeared, with hypertext and digital audio available online (Foley 2004b). Both of these singers, and many others in the Parry Collection, traced their bardic lineage to a certain Cor Huso Husovic, probably - like Homer - a legendary, or at least heavily mythologized, master-singer (Foley 1999,49-62). Among the crucial points o f the analogy between the Homeric and South Slavic heroic epics are similarities in formulaic and narrative structure, story-pattern, and poetic language (with multiple dialects and a n a c h r o n i s m s of lexicon and syntax). Both Homer and the guslari employed a special register or way o f speaking that operated synergistically with metrical rules and supported composition-in-performance through individual, creative adaptation o f tradi­ tional patterns. Both the Homeric aoidoi (see S i n g e r s ) and the South Slavic guslari were fluent in their oral epic traditions. See also

O

r a l

T

r a d it io n s

.

References and Suggested Readings Muslim epics are available in the original language in Parry and Lord 1954, and Bynum 1974,1979, and 1980, as well as Buturovid 1992; for English translations, see Parry and Lord 1954 and Lord 1974. Both print and digital hypertext versions o f an epic from the Stolac region are provided in Foley 2004b, which includes the original South Slavic, an English translation, and an online audio file of the entire performance. For Christian epics, see Karadiió 1841-1862 [1975] (origi­ nal language) and Holton and Mihailovich 1997 (English translation). On the Milman Parry Collection o f Oral Literature, visit the website at http://chsl 19. harvard.edu/mpc/. Studies o f the analogy between Homer and the guslari include Parry’s “Cor Huso" (MHV, 437-464); Lord 1960 [2000], sections from Lord 1991 and 1995; and Foley 1990a, 1991,1995,1999,

and 2002; on Homer and comparative oral epic, Foley 2004a, 2005a. JOH N M ILES FOLEY

Sparta (Znáprri)

Place name in the region of and modern Lakonia. In the Iliad Sparta figures as one of nine towns within the realm o f M e n e l a o s (2.582) and is, with M y c e n a e and A r g o s , one o f three towns that H e r a is apparently willing to offer Z e u s for future destruction (4.52). In the O dyssey Sparta is the political center of Lacedaemon and residence of Menelaos and H e l e n , and it appears with P y l o s as the destination of T e i . e m a c h o s ’ journey (Schmidt LfgrE, s.v.; Visser 1997,482—483). M y c e n a e a n Sparta does not appear as a prom­ inent place in the archaeological record of the region, and only from the Early Iron Age onwards does it seem to develop as the central place o f the Eurotas valley and beyond. Four villages, Limnai, Pitane, Mesoa, and Kynosoura, form with the additional integration of A m y c l a e the polis of Sparta (Cartledge 2002 [1979], 80-112). Early evidence comes from the sanctuaries of Artemis Orthia in the Spartan village of Limnai and Athena Chalkioikos on the Spartan acropolis where Protogeometric pottery of a very distinc­ tive Laconian style has been found (Eder 1998, 109-110; see G e o m e t r i c P e r i o d ) . Recent finds o f Early Protogeometric pottery in tombs within the area of modern Sparta confirm the existence o f a settlement in the 1 Ith century b c e (Zawou and Themos 2009,111-113). The Homeric poems thus reflect only Sparta’s historical importance in the Early Iron Age (see D a r k A g e ) and Early A r c h a i c period, and at the same time translate it into a mythical past by acknowledging Sparta’s existence and prominence at the time of the mythical T r o j a n W a r and its aftermath. In the immediate neighborhood east of and above Sparta lies the Late Bronze Age mansion of the so-called Menelaion in a location known as Therapne. It consists of a room complex of Late Helladic IIB-IIIA1 date which features a so-called megaron and adjacent corridors leading to store­ rooms and an upper floor (see also H o u s e s ) . After a rebuilding o f the complex in LH IIIA1 (first half of the 14th century b c e ) the building history of the mansion is not entirely clear, although it was apparently occupied in the late L

a c e d a e m o n

S P E E C H - A C T THEORY

817

attention because it appeared quite different. He named this second kind o f utterance (by which the speaker does something) a performative. So, for example, if a speaker says “I surrender,” his or her words are an act of surrender - a performa­ tive. Verbs such as “promise” (“I promise to do this”) or “invite” (“I invite you to lunch tomor­ row”) are also performatives. Austin coined a new term - “illocutionary act” - to describe utterances that have a certain conventional force of this per­ formative kind. So, an illocutionary act is a (ver­ bal) act of warning, or threatening, or promising, or rebuking, or ordering, and so on. We com­ monly use the more economical term “speech act” to describe such entities. Austin identified five classes of illocutionary act, or speech act: verdictives, exercitives, commissives, behabitives, and expositives. Searle builds on Austin’s work. Recasting the five classes of performative proposed by Austin, Searle lists five broad categories of speech act: representatives (e.g., asserting), directives (e.g., requesting), commissives (e.g., promising), BIRGITTA EDER expressives (e.g., thanking), and declaratives (e.g., appointing). Each speech act is distinguished by a set o f constitutive rules that each o f us has learned Spear see Weapons and Armor. over time. Whether we produce such an act or hear it produced by someone else, we recognize Speech-Act Theory The fundamental principle the act as the product of those rules. Although it is true that speech acts of other cultures may dif­ underpinning what we now call speech-act the­ ory is that language is used to perform actions. fer from those in English, the English speech-act inventory offers a model at least for a broader Every utterance we make is a “speech act” of one kind or another. Speech acts, therefore, are the understanding of individual speech acts. Searle’s classification of speech acts, like basic unit of communication. As Searle (1979, 23) says: “we tell people how things are, we try to Austin’s, to some degree conceals the complexity get them to do things, we commit ourselves to of discourse: there are, in fact, many ways of achiev­ doing things, we express our feelings and atti­ ing what Austin and Searle call “illocutionary tudes and we bring about changes through our force.” Illocutionary force maybe defined as what utterances.” Speech-act theory is concerned with makes an utterance the particular speech act talk and action - about what utterances do as well that it is; it is the intention of the speaker at the moment of speaking. The use of performative as what they mean. The study o f speech acts, now an important verbs (e.g., requesting or promising) is one quite interdisciplinary area between philosophy and explicit way of indicating illocutionary force; but linguistics, was opened up in the second half of there are other linguistic options that can achieve the 20 th century through the work of two phi­ the same goal in the absence of a performative: losophers, John Austin and John Searle. Austin, in e.g., word order, stress, intonation contour, punc­ his lectures delivered in 1955 and first published tuation, the mood of the verb - or indirectness. in 1962 as How to Do Things with Words, began As an example of this last option, the sentence with the distinction between constative utter­ “It’s cold in here” may be a chunk of information ances (propositions which may be true or false) about the temperature of a room (a representa­ and a category of utterance that had drawn his tive) - or a hint that a window should be closed

13th century b c e and finally destroyed at the end of LH IIIB (Catling 2009). Next to the Mycenaean building, the remains o f a platform with a tiny temple building over­ look the Spartan plain and belong to a shrine dedicated to Menelaos and Helen. Here, the earli­ est offerings date to the Late Geometric and Archaic period and illustrate the Early Iron Age interest in the mythical past of the region. The ruins of a Bronze Age building may have formed a monument o f the past that attracted the cult of the mythical hero and heroine (Antonaccio 1995a, 155-166; Stibbe 1996, 41-49; see also HeroCult). As Menelaos, Helen, and the D ioscuri were among the main characters in the stories around and about the Trojan War, they could offer a pre-Doric regional perspective to the iden­ tity of the Spartan community, which otherwise stressed its Dorian origins and relations to the sons of Herakles and their mythical return after the Trojan War to the lands o f their father (cf. Malkin 1994a, 46-48; see also Heraclids).

818

S P E E C H - A C T THEORY

(a directive). As Searle (1999, 51) observes: “one can perform one speech act indirectly by per­ forming another directly.” It is not immediately clear into which category o f speech act “It’s cold in here” falls; as a consequence, the listener may misinterpret the utterance. Discussions of speech-act theory from a philo­ sophical perspective have laid the foundations for sub-disciplines of linguistics such as pragmatics (the interpretation of language in its social con­ text), discourse analysis (the study o f connected discourse, or utterances), and conversation analy­ sis (the study of language in interaction). Each of these sub-disciplines, along with speech-act theory itself, has the power to illuminate some aspects of the use o f language in the Homeric epics, whether we are investigating the discourse of the poet as storyteller or the discourse he has created for his characters in interaction with one another. Pragmatics and conversation analysis assist us in reading the verbal behavior of both the poet and Homer’s characters at critical points in the n a r r a t i v e . From the perspectives o f dis­ course analysis, Bakker (1997b) demonstrates that Homeric discourse has many features of ordinary speech. He argues, nevertheless, that Homeric discourse is “special.” It is “special” because it is poetic: the hallmark o f this “special” speech is that certain basic features of everyday language have been stylized. Discourse analysis can also throw light on the composition of the speeches the poet attributes to his characters. Homer appears, quite uncon­ sciously, to have conceived of his characters’ speech acts in much the same way that Austin and Searle conceived of the speech acts that they observed in the everyday conversations around them. Recent work on Homeric speech acts indi­ cates that the poet used the speech acts o f his own world, such as commands, boasts, and rebukes, as models for the speech acts of his characters. Studies of individual speech acts (e.g., the lament, supplication, and the rebuke) show how everyday forms that have been adapted and stylized by poets over genera­ tions for the purposes o f oral performance may be interpreted - and how their study may further our understanding of the processes of oral composition. At the communicative level, interactions between characters within the Homeric epics may

be usefully analyzed through speech-act theory. As we observe in our interactions with others in our everyday world, there are crucial links between social motivation, communicative stra­ tegy, and linguistic choice - that is, a speaker’s choice o f speech act. In the Homeric context too the linguistic “choices” attributed to the charac­ ters within the epics illuminate the action: on the one hand the choice o f speech act may tell us something of the intentions of the speaker; on the other it can create and convey distinctions of sta­ tus and age: between a god and a mortal, between a man and a woman, or between youth and age. References and Suggested Readings Austin 1975; J. Searle 1969, 1979, 1999; Martin 1989; Clark 1998; Heath 2005; Minchin 2007. ELIZABETH MINCHIN

Speech Introductions A substantial proportion (nearly 55 percent in total) o f the Homeric epics is presented as spoken discourse, as the actual words o f one or another character. Homer repre­ sents characters debating with themselves (e.g., Odysseus at II. 11.404—410; see Monologues), many instances o f one-on-one conversations (e.g., the quarrel between Achilles and Aga­ memnon in Iliad 1), and very few instances in which three characters make spoken contribu­ tions to the one scene (e.g., Priam, Antenor, and Helen at II. 3.161-244; Odysseus, TfeLEMACHOS, and Eumaios at Od. 16.11-155). To make it easier for a listening audience to fol­ low his song, the :poet introduces every speaking turn witn an announcement of who is speaking, and to whom he or she speaks. He may include some reference to action that accompanies the words spoken and, where it is important to his tale, the manner or the tone of the speech: Edwards (1970) refers to this element as “qualifi­ cation.” All this information may be accommo­ dated within a hexameter line of verse, as a so-called “speech introduction.” Just as Homer is careful to introduce a speaking turn, so he may also close it off, using a brief verbal marker (e.g., “so s/he spoke”). The speech introduction is a formalized structure, largely, although not invariably, formu­ laic in its composition (see Form ula ) and easily recognizable to the listener. Through his choice

S P EEC H E S

819

can actually be certain that the same can also be said of the poems of the Epic Cycle (Arist. Poet. 1460a 5-11; cf. Halliwell 1986, 126). Speeches are therefore a distinctive feature of Homer’s diction. Students of Homer have long been aware of the fact that the language of Homeric speeches differs from that of the narrative in many and various ways. O. Jörgensen (1904) and M. P. Nilsson (1924) pointed out that Homer’s charac­ ters speak of the gods differently from the poet himself (see further d a i m ô n ) . P. Krarup (1948) andH. Frankel (1962 [1951], 68 ) called attention to the fact that abstract nouns and personifica­ tions are much more frequent in the speeches than in the narrative, whereas T. B. L. Webster (1956, 44, 46) showed that clusters o f late fea­ tures, including linguistically late formulae, are especially characteristic o f the speeches. Numerous neologisms, anachronisms, and other peculiarities o f language and vocabulary have been registered for the speeches in studies o f the language o f Homer (see esp. Shipp 1972, vii, 254, 259-260, 268, 282, 311). Yet, the first to treat the distinction between Homer’s speeches and Homer’s narrative in a thorough and sys­ tematic way was Jasper Griffin: in his ground­ breaking “Homeric Words and Speakers,” Griffin arrived at the conclusion, widely accepted today, that “in important senses the Homeric epics have two vocabularies,” one for the narrative and the other for the speeches (Griffin 1986,40; cf. Griffin 2004,167). In fact, two main approaches to the speeches have crystallized over time. Older scholars tended to account for the speeches’ linguistic and other See also Speeches. peculiarities by applying to them the interpreta­ tive methods of Analysis (see Analysts). The cul­ References and Suggested Readings Holoka 1983; Martin 1989, 30-35; Beck 2005. mination of this approach was reached in G. P. Shipp’s Studies in the Language o f Homer, first ELIZABETH MINCHIN published in 1953. According to this approach, the fact that innovations in language and voca­ bulary tend to concentrate in the speeches indica­ Speeches It has become a commonplace since tes that their composition is later than that of Plato and Aristotle that Homer is remarkable the main narrative; consequently, the passages in in that, rather than giving third-person descrip­ which these innovations are especially dense tions of his characters, he lets them speak for should be treated as interpolations. However, themselves. Speeches constitute about 50 percent although it cannot be denied that rather more of Homer’s text and serve as the main vehicle for often than not interpolations are indeed concen­ characterization. In contrast, the poems of trated in the speeches, this does not mean that all Hesiod contain very little direct speech, and we speeches lend themselves to this kind of treatment.

of introductory verb the poet gives precise information about the conversational context in which the speech that is to follow occurs: e.g., whether the speaker is addressing a single per­ son (xòv 5' dure TtpoaÉEntE, “s/he addressed him then”) or a group (roiai 6 ’ dviaidpevoc; (i£T£(|>r| nóôaç ükúç ’AxtMcúç, “Achilles of the swift feet stood up amongst them and spoke forth,'"II. 1.58) or whether s/he is initiating conversation (pi)9u>v ?ipxe. “s/he began to speak”) or speaking in response (npoaé(|>q, "s/he spoke”). A famous but little understood phrase, £nea nrepoEvta “winged words” (II. 1 .2 0 1 , etc.; see e p o s ) , fre­ quently appears in speech introductions as the object of npoaauÔáu), a commonly used verb of speaking. Martin (1989, 30-35) suggests that the phrase highlights speeches that function as directives. Some introductory verbs of themselves indi­ cate the speech act that will follow: eüxopai (pray), Aioaopai (supplicate), èvínrtü (abuse, revile), veikeco (rebuke), ke X eúü) (order), oiptóÇiü (cry out in pain) (see Speech-Act T heory). The “qualifications” that the poet includes may range from information about physical motion ( à v i o r á p E v o ç “rising,” //. 1.58, etc.) to expressive descriptions o f b o d y l a n g u a g e (ív t ’ äpa oi t> X E ipi, “s/he took him/her by the hand,” 6.253, etc.; ôáKpu xÉü)v/xéoua' “weeping,” 1.357, etc. ímóÔpa iôciiv “looking darkly,” 1.148, etc.). Certain phrases indicate the tone or intent o f the speech to come: (e.g., K E p r o p ío iç È T téso ai “in teasing words,” 4.6, etc.; ô o \ o c (> p o v é o u a a “with guileful intent,” 14.197, etc.).

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Moreover, if consistently applied, the Analyst approach would culminate in the conclusion that about half of Homer should be regarded as interpolated. As distinct from this, the neo-Unitarian approach (see Unitarians) that became domi­ nant in the second half of the 20 th century tended to regard the speeches’ idiosyncrasies as due to self-conscious stylistic strategies deliberately employed by the poet. The first systematic treat­ ment of the speeches from this point of view was, again, Griffin’s “Homeric Words and Speakers.” According to Griffin, rather than being indicative of interpolation, the distinction between speech and narrative is entirely a matter of style. Yet, while it is true that the argument of style may be applied with profit to many aspects of the lan­ guage of the speeches, it is doubtful that it would account equally well for the late linguistic features in which they abound. It is indeed difficult to envisage a traditional poet deliberately employ­ ing, e.g., quantitative metathesis as a means of stylization. Moreover, taking into account another important aspect of Homeric language, its formulaic idiom, makes the late character of the speeches particularly manifest (Hoekstra 1965, passim; Janko 1982, 15; Hainsworth 1988, 27-28; Finkelberg 2011). As in any traditional poetry, the old and the new exist in Homer side by side, for each succes­ sive generation o f poets retold anew what had been bequeathed to them by their tradition. Since the traditional subjects dealing with the Heroic Age were not only universally known but also accepted as historical truth, the poets were not allowed to mold them in a free and independent manner: the T rojan War will end with Trojan rather than Achaean defeat, Hector will be killed by Achilles rather than vice versa, and so on. This is why dissonances between the plot o f the poems and what is expressed in the speeches are so important: while the plot is fixed in tradition, the content of the speeches is not; accordingly, the speeches are fit to express not only the views of the characters but also the poets’ reaction (which may well be a critical one: Nicolai 1983,9) to what they received from their tradition. The double perspective thus adopted would often result in one and the same episode being simultaneously delivered from two points of view, the traditional and the poet’s own. It comes as no surprise that

the latter would as a rule express the attitudes of the poet’s own time (Finkelberg 1998b). Owing to Homer’s extensive use of direct speech, it was possible to incorporate these late attitudes into the text of the poems without changing their plots. Not incidentally, therefore, are Homer’s nonformulaic and metrically faulty expressions, linguistic innovations, and the like, concen­ trated in direct speech. This does not entail, however, that the epic diction before Homer contained no speeches: as the formulaic speech introductions clearly indicate, “even at very early stages dialogue existed alongside narra­ tive” (Hoekstra 1965, 52 n. 1). Yet it is reasona­ ble to suppose that while the formulae were preserved in the stock of traditional expres­ sions, the non-formulaic and irregular expres­ sions were ephemeral creations that varied from one poet to another (Finkelberg 1997). In other words, even if epic poets before Homer also composed long speeches abounding in nontraditional expressions that reflected the atti­ tude of their own times, these were not likely to survive. It is therefore reasonable to suppose that the non-traditional elements of Homeric speeches represent the ipsissima verba o f the poet responsible for the I liad and Odyssey as we know them. See also Monologues. References and Suggested Readings O n the formal aspects o f the speeches see Lohmann 1970; Edwards 1992; Beck 2005; on speeches as a vehi­ cle for characterization Edwards 1987, 88-97; Griffin 2004; Minchin 2007; on speech introductions Edwards 1970; Beck 1998-1999.

MARGAL1T FINKELBERG

Spercheios (Xuepxeióç) A river in T hessaly (Phthiotis) which rises in the Panaitoliko moun­ tains and flows northeast to the Malian Gulf, entering it to the south of Lamia (cf. Strab. 9.5.9). The main river of Achilles’ homeland Phthia. At the funeral ceremony for Patroklos, Achilles put in his dead friend’s hands a lock of his hair that he had grown long to dedicate to the Spercheios on his return home (II. 23.141-153). The river god Spercheios fathered, with Peleus’

SPORT

daughter Polydora, Menesthios (2), one of the five leaders of the M y r m i d o n s (16.174). See also Rivers.

Sport The Homeric epics provide the earliest account of competitive sport in Archaic Greece. Even though members of the lower social orders are also depicted as practicing sport for exercise or leisure (II. 2.773-275), the focus throughout the epics is on the athletic practices of the elite. In the context of the internal literary structure of the poems, scenes of athletic contests (aethloi) are instrumental in character portrayal and plot development. Viewed from a historical perspec­ tive, in Homer sport articulates, consolidates, and perpetuates social hierarchies. Social deference mechanisms operate to exclude the lower classes from the sporting contests of the Homeric heroes. As a result, sport provides for the elites another opportunity (similarly to war and feasting) to display their quest for kieo s and instantiate their claim for social and political superiority. Not sur­ prisingly, the organization and conduct of ath­ letic contests are governed by the behavioral code and value system of the ruling class. The funeral of Patroklos (II. 23.257-897) is the setting for the most elaborate athletic con­ tests presented in the epics. Funeral games were by necessity spontaneous events and appear to have been common in the Homeric world (e.g., 22.162-164, a simile ; 23.627-645, Amarynkeus’ funeral; Od. 24.85-92, Achilles’ funeral). The extent of the program, the number and social ori­ gin o f participants, and the intrinsic and symbolic value of prizes were commensurate with the sta­ tus of the deceased. In the Funeral Games for Patroklos Achilles acts as organizer and pro­ vides the prizes. Following the cremation cere­ mony (see Burial Customs), the Achaean rank and file begin to disperse but Achilles invites them to remain. With one possible exception (Epeios), all participants are social peers o f the organizer. The overwhelming majority are mere spectators o f the contests of the aristocracy. The Funeral Games for Patroklos consist o f eight events (chariot race, boxing, wrestling, foot-race, combat in arms, weight throw, archery, spear throw). The weight throw is the only event where losers do not receive prizes. The award of

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multiple prizes is fully integrated in the network of elite gift-exchange and constitutes a medium in the process o f renegotiating social value. The chariot race (23.262-616) is portrayed as the most prestigious and popular event, with a total of five participants. Some spectators are depicted as agitated and ready to gamble for their favorite charioteer (450-489). Following the completion of the event a dispute arises between Menblaos and Antilochos over the second-place prize, an episode that highlights the close interconnection between athletic performance and heroic honor (566-613). After the peaceful settlement of the dispute, Achilles awards an unclaimed prize to Nestor. The games are concluded with the uncontested victory of Agamemnon in the jave­ lin throw, following Achilles’ assertion that the leader of the Achaean army is the best “in the casting of the spear” (891). With this diplomatic gesture the reconciliation between Achilles and Agamemnon is essentially completed and the games end on a positive note. Overall, through the performance of athletic contests, the Funeral Games for Patroklos underscore the partial reintegration o f Achilles in the Achaean commu­ nity of warriors, portray alternative paradigms of political authority, and enunciate class and status disparities. Athletic contests are also described in con­ nection with O dysseus’ visit at the Phaeacians (Od. 8.97—255). These games fall outside the funeral games tradition, yet they retain much of the extemporaneous nature as well as the social symbolism detected at the games in honor of Patroklos. The games in Scheria are originally conceived by king Alkinoos as part o f the guestfriendship entertainment offered to Odysseus, whose exact identity is concealed. The spectators o f the games comprise the Phaeacian noblemen and the people, but participation is limited to the elite youth. First event to be contested is the foot-race followed by wrestling, long jump, dis­ cus, and boxing. No prizes are awarded. Following the completion o f these events LaodamaS (2), son o f king Alkinoos and winner in boxing, decides to invite Odysseus to make trial of ath­ letic contests. Non-participation was precarious and potentially subversive of the individual’s social status, and thus it had to be adequately justified (Kyle 1984). Old age (e.g., Nestor, II. 23.618-628) and personal hardship (Achilles,

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sport

23.274-284; Odysseus. Od. 8.152-155) were acceptable excuses. But when Euryai.os (2), another Phaeacian elite youth and sports enthu­ siast, suggests that Odysseus does not look like an athlete but a merchant mindful of his cargo and profit, the latter angrily rebukes his challenger and throws the largest discus further than all other contestants. Thus Odysseus proves his sta­ tus as agathos and sharer of the kleos that sport bestows. Sporadic references to sport in Homer (II. 22.158-164; Od. 4.625-627, 17.167-169 and 174, 18.1-107, 21.404-423) further demonstrate the familiarity of the epics’ audience with sport as a pastime and as an extension of the network of social relations and obligations of the aristocracy. Despite certain affinities, both the games in Scheria and the Funeral Games for Patroklos reveal considerable differences in comparison with athletic practices in Archaic Greece. Some of the changes introduced during the Archaic period include the conduct of athletic competitions during prearranged times and venues, as in the Panhellenic periodos games; the emerging novel meanings of athletic victory which patently acknowledged both individual achievements and community ideology; and the nature and value of prizes, including valuable material prizes in some local games and the materially humble but sym­ bolically potent wreaths at the periodos games. All in all, elite sporting attitudes and practices as por­ trayed in the Homeric epics slowly change during the Archaic period in a process that associates sport with wider developments, including the gradual implementation of more egalitarian models of political and social organization. See also Competition. References and Suggested Readings For detailed accounts of Homeric sport from a histori­ cal perspective see Laser 1987; Decker 1995, 26-38; Golden 1998,88-95; Kyle 2007,54-71. For prizes at the Funeral Games for Patroklos in relation to aristocratic gift-exchange and ideology see Kyle 1996,108-111, and Papakonstantinou 2002 (see also Exchange). But cf. Brown 2003, who regards athletic prizes as emblematic of the changing matrix of social relations in early Archaic Greece. In a related vein see Hammer 1997, who detects novel models of political leadership emerg­ ing from the funeral games in Iliad 23. There is also a long tradition of scholarship on the literary merits and

functions of sporting scenes in the Homeric epics. See, e.g., Hinckley 1986; Visa 1994; Postlethwaite 1995; Scott 1997 with earlier bibliography. ZINON PAPAKONSTANTINOU

S ta ff

see Scepter.

Stars

see Astronomy.

Stentor (Zrcvraip) A man who was “brazen­ voiced" and whose call had the power o f that of fifty men. Hera takes his guise in order to shout a rebukeat the Achaeans(U. 5.785-786). According to the scholia, he was a T hracian killed by Hermes for boasting of his loud voice, or the inventor of the conch-shell war-trumpet. Stentor’s voice became proverbial (cf. Arist. Pol. 1326b6-7). References and Suggested Readings Kirk 1990,139-140.

Stesimbrotus o f Thasos A respected scholar of Homer active in the last quarter of the 5th cen­ t u r y B C E , and mentioned in the Socratic dialog­ ues (PI. Ion 530c; Xen. Symp. 3.6), Stesimbrotus was also the author o f a book On Themistocles, Thucydides, and Pericles, tapped by Plutarch for several o f his Athenian Lives, and another, On Initiations, concerned with religious lore, includ­ ing the Samothracian mysteries. He may also have written a book on Homer, though this is nowhere claimed, and the activities and opinions attrib­ uted to him in the scholia and elsewhere (firs. 21-25) are inconclusive. The feet that Stesimbrotus is mentioned in the same breath with Metrodorus of Lampsacus in Plato’s Ion and is among those Xenophon’s Socrates names as having been paid a great deal by Niceratus to expound the huponoiai (“things hinted at,” “allegories”) in Homer has led to the widespread belief that he was an allegorist, and even to a strong circumstantial case for his author­ ship of the allegorical text preserved in the Derveni Papyrus (Burkert 1986). No hard evi­ dence, however, links him either to the Derveni text nor to allegory in general. The feet that

STOIC IN TER PRETATIONS

Tatian includes him in his list of scholars who had worked on the date of Homer but fails to men­ tion him in his attack on the allegorists suggests that it was not primarily for allegorical inter­ pretation that he was remembered. References and Suggested Readings Testimonia and fragments: FGrHist no. 107. ROBERT LAMBERTON

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Athenians’ notorious insignificance in Homer. Killed by Hector (15.329-331). See also Athens and Homer. References and Suggested Readings Janko 1992,71.

Stoic Interpretations The Stoics were the most active philosophical school o f the Hellenistic era into the Roman Imperial era, alongside the Sthenelos (IQevsXoq, see Names 3.5) (1) Son of Epicureans. Though neither school was particu­ Kapaneus (II. 2.564 etc.); alongside Diomedes larly hospitable to poetry, o f the two the Stoics and Euryalos (1), one of the commanders o f the made the greatest concessions to literature gener­ Argos contingent in the Catalogue of Ships ally and to Homer in particular. In contrast to (2.559-568). The fathers o f the three were among Plato and Epicurus, the Stoics found much to the Seven against Thebes whereas they them­ admire in Homer, but only after much massaging selves belonged to the Epigoni, the conquerors of the texts. Homer’s dangers to the philosophi­ of T hebes in the next generation (4.405—410; cally naive were manifest (Plut. Quomodo adul., Apollod. 3.7.2; Paus. 2.20.5, cf. 10.10.2; see passim). But neither could they spurn him T heban Cycle). In the rest of the I l i a d , however, entirely: he was the lingua franca of Greek culture Sthenelos acts as a squire o f Diomedes (therapôn, through which larger lessons about physics, cos­ 8.113; see Friendship) rather than as his equal. mology, the gods, ethics, and psychology could be When Agamemnon rebukes Diomedes in the filtered. They accordingly devised an array of Epipolesis, it is Sthenelos who indignantly interpretative strategies by which to accommo­ retorts; he is in turn rebuked by Diomedes, date Homer to Stoic dogma, on the pretense that addressing Sthenelos with the h a p a x T e rr a , prob­ Homer had access to truths that remained valid ably a colloquial word for “friend” (4.401—418). into the present and that could be used to con­ In Books 5 and 8 Sthenelos fights side by side firm the validity o f Stoicism. Even if Homer was with Diomedes as his charioteer (5.111-113,241— no philosopher and was not a proto-Stoic, at the 275, 319-330, 835-836, 8.112-115) but disap­ very least he afforded perspectives onto the pears from sight in the rest of the poem. He remotest corners o f cultural history that were reemerges for a moment only in Book 23, in the worth salvaging at all costs. Funeral Games for Patroklos, where he receives a It therefore comes as no surprise that all three captive woman and a tripod, Diomedes’ prizes in o f the first-generation Stoics wrote on and not the chariot race, and passes them on to the simply against Homer, thereby defending Homer attendants (510-513). not merely against inept readers, but also against (2) Son of Perseus (1) and Andromede, father himself. Zeno, the school’s founder, wrote a (now o f Eurystheus (II. 19.116-124; [Hes.] Cat. frs. lost) Homeric Problems in five books (Diog. Laert. 135.6-7, 190.9-12 M-W). 7.4), possibly his longest single work. Cleanthes, margalit finkblberg his successor, wrote a work on Homer, known by title only (On the Poet, Diog. Laert. 7.175). And Chrysippus, a generation later, likewise wrote on Stichios (Ztíxioç) The leader o f the Athenians Homer, but in no obvious systematic fashion, as Galen was quick to point out (PHP 3.4.14-17 = alongside Menestheus, but very much in the lat­ ter’s shadow (II. 13.195-196, 690-691). Both SVF 2.907; cf. PHP 3.8.27-28). Only scattered Stichios and Menestheus carried Amphimachos’ quotations survive, and no titles; it is conceivable (1) body back to the camp, and the scholia that Chrysippus devoted no individual work to remark that “some mock Stichios and Menestheus Homer. Though Hesiod held greater philosophi­ as corpse-bearers” - obviously an allusion to the cal attractions (his cosmology was richer), Homer

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STOIC I NTERPRETATI ONS

remained a cornerstone of the Stoic inheritance thanks to his cultural prominence and his author­ ity, and the general Stoic respect for paideia (see Education, Homer in). Even so, a dear picture of Stoic views of Homer is difficult to piece together given the challenging nature of the sources. The writings on Homer by the founding fathers are the least well attested in the tradition, which is a long and multifaceted one with no obvious dogmatic core. The tidbits we have are tantalizing, but how telling are they? Later writers may or may not point back to the stances and practices of the earlier generations. Not only did Stoicism continue to evolve and adapt over the centuries, assimilating to itself first elements of Platonism, and then, or at the same time, elements of Pythagoreanism. It also began to disperse, geographically and culturally, away from Athens. As its boundaries spread, so did its membership, and finally its core identity began to blur. A gradual merging of philosophical affilia­ tions, or else a weakening of doctrinal camps, occurred by the end of the Hellenistic era. Telling apart Stoicizing intellectuals from bona fid e Stoics is increasingly treacherous. Strabo (d. ca. 24 ce) identifies with the Stoics, but the affiliations look weak, and he has his own axioms to grind (mainly geographical), while shedding an incidental light on the nature of the epics (Kim 2007). Cornutus, author of a Compendium o f the Tradition o f Greek Theology (mid-1st century ce), does meet the cri­ teria of a full-fledged Stoic in his views of physics, cosmology, theology, and myths. Whether the entirety of his methods of reading (heavily based in etymologies of gods’ names: see Etymology) is compatible with or derives from the school’s founders is harder to say. Cornutus, in any event, has less to say about Homer than about Hesiod, so once again inferences are all-decisive (Most 1989). Plutarch (ca. 45 BCE-before 125 ce) can be hostile to Stoics in places, while elsewhere seemingly reflective of Stoic readings of Homer (Quomodo adul. 19E-20F). Ps.-Heraclitus, the author of the Homeric Problems (end o f the 1st century ce?; see Heraclitus H o m e r i c P r o ­ b l e m s ) , claims to be a Stoic, and he rants against Plato and Epicurus, but his reading practice, which is systematically allegorical, may be a sign of eclecticism rather than Stoicism. His Stoic cre­ dentials have accordingly been impeached, but perhaps unfairly so (his Platonizing touches may

owe to middle Stoicism). Ps.-Plutarch, the author o f two essays On the Life and Poetry o f Homer (date unknown; possibly late 2nd to early 3rd century ce; see Ps .-Plutarch D e H o m e r o ), combines interpretative methods with even greater freedom than Heraclitus. For him, Stoic readings are simply an anthology of canonized readings to draw on in order to demonstrate the unparalleled learning of Homer. Not for nothing does he stand at the end of the tradition, no longer creating but merely collecting and juxtaposing what has long been known and said. These are the overtly Stoicizing authors. To this list one must add the even longer list of quietly Stoicizing readings of Homer which have been claimed for such poets and critics as Vergil or Ps .-Longinus. Proving these latter claims and the depths of the philosoph­ ical commitments in any given case is virtually for­ bidden. The appeal to phantasia-theory is hardly evidence of lurking Stoicism. Despite these hurdles, a few generalizations about (early) Stoic readings o f Homer are never­ theless possible. First, Stoic interpretation is for the most part Procrustean. Homer’s text is continually shown to be compatible, and never incompatible, with Stoic beliefs. Hence, Zeno “found nothing to blame in Homer” (SVF 1.274). One way of insuring this result is through “strong reading” (Harold Bloom). Problems at the literal level of the text are thrown up for solution, some of them inherited, others novel (Zeno’s work was after all titled Homeric Problems), and then resolved in more or less fanciful and forceful fash­ ions. Here, the early and some later Stoics show themselves to be well armed with the refined, modern tools of Alexandrian science (philol­ ogy, grammar, geography: see Alexandrian Scholarship) and with Stoicism’s own logical techniques (cf. Zeno, SVF 1.275 ~ schol. Od. 4.84). If that method fails, a sure-fire way of reaching the desired result is by deflecting the text’s obvious meaning to a level beyond its literal dimension. Such readings necessarily detract from the literary and aesthetic value of the poems in question. But this was never an issue. After all, the Stoics had no poetics per se (cf. Dion. Hal. Comp. 5.21.6-22.14). For them, Homer’s value lay not in any pleasure he supplied as a poet, nor even in what he appeared to mean, but only in the truth (factual knowledge, moral utility, philosophical information) his text contained,

STOIC INTERPRETATIONS independently of anything he may have meant himself (cf. [Heracl.] Quaest. Horn. 26.3). Thus, when Dio Chrysostom (Or. 53.4 = SVF 1.274) relates Zeno’s view that Homer “wrote some things according to common opinion (kata doxan) and other things according to truth ( k a f alêtheian)" the former category picks out popular misconceptions while the latter picks out philo­ sophical truths acceptable to the Stoa. Philodemus supplies more detail. In On Piety ch. 13, he men­ tions how Chrysippus “sought, like Cleanthes, to harmonize (ouvoiKEiobv) with Stoic doctrines the contents of (tà 7tapá) Homer and Hesiod,” amongst other poets. Those contents could be reached irrespective of any beliefs held by the poets, who merely acted as their conduits. Thus, names of divinities functioned like invis­ ible traces of DNA that reveal their bearers’ ori­ gins: Hera is air, Zeus is aether, Hephaistos is fire. Zeno excelled at this technique, which had as its aim the demythologizing and deanthropomorphizing of divinities and discovering in them their true significance as physical elements. Heraclitus continued this tradition: Poseidon is water, derived from “drink”posrs, 7. 15; Aphrodite is “folly,” from aphrosunê, 28.5 (~ Cornutus, Theol. 45.6-7), and so on. Cleanthes also dabbled in the etymologies of the names and epithets o f divin­ ities (SVF 1.535, 540, 549), whether to draw physical or ethical morals from the text, and occa­ sionally changing the text to bring it into line with his desired meaning, as at Odyssey 1.52, where he proposed reading holoophrôn “mindful” in place of oloophrôn "malevolent,” said of Atlas - for what divinity could fail to be providential toward the world? This view of Stoics as archaeologists of religion, history, and mentality (cf. Cornutus, Theol. 26.16-17; Arist. Metaph. 11.8.1074M—14, and Vico) is attractive, but their aims may have been more self-serving. Accommodare is how Cicero translates ouvoucsiofiv from Philodemus above (Nat. D. 1.41). Galen uses the term Ttpoaappórtoiv (PHP 3.8.26). Such techniques come perilously close to allegoresis, and the Stoics were frequently charged with twisting the surface meaning of Homeric texts into deeper hidden subtexts (huponoiai, sumbola), or allegories, a practice with vener­ able roots reaching into the 5th century, if not earlier (see Allegorical Interpretation). Whether the Stoics actually practiced allegorical

825

reading is contested today. Much depends on stipulative criteria, and often these can be anachronis­ tic. Is etymology a form of allegory? What about figurai reading by way of metaphor, metonymy, or substitution? Suppose there is a subtext: does it matter whether it was intended by the poet or not? (Cf. PI. Prt. 316d; [Heracl.] Quaest. Horn. 5.14-6.1, and passim; Steinmetz 1986, 19; Long 1992). If it was not so intended, then is allegorical interpretation anything other than interpreting what a text appears to mean regardless o f what it says? The distinctions are as slippery now as they were in antiquity, nor does it help that their values changed from author to author and period to period (cf. PluL Quomodo adul. 19E-F). Finally, is allegory limited to texts? Chrysippus notoriously read a painting in Argos (or Samos) on a motif that could well be Homeric, showing Hera fellating Zeus, but illustrating, he claimed, a principle about spermatikos logos (God) mixing with mat­ ter, and which was said to be an allegory by at least one ancient witness (SVF 2.1071-1074; cf. Cleanthes ap. Cic. Fin. 2.69 = SVF 1.553). An emerging consensus is that “strong,” inten­ tional allegory, o f the sort that went beyond ety­ mologies and figurai interpretation, was not imputed to Homer by the early Stoics, and possi­ bly not by orthodox Stoics at any point in time. Weak allegory, on the other hand, seems to have been permitted, though etymologies dominated. Later, Stoicizing readers, typified by Heraclitus and Ps.-Plutarch, but perhaps starting with Crates of Mallos (who, however, was not a Stoic but conceivably drew on their science to further his own literary project), diverged from earlier orthodoxy in four ways: by ( 1) reverting to allegory among other techniques; ( 2 ) imputing deliberate intentionality to Homer; (3) granting him the status o f a Sage; and (4) drawing on methods and doctrines from competing schools. The scholia to Homer, especially of the exegetical (bT) class, reflect some of this development (Schmidt 1976): they cheerfully apply the latest, often Stoic-influenced cosmology and theology to the epics, though without labeling Homer a Stoic sage; and in doing so, they diverge from Aristarchus’ immanentism. Thus, details of Homeric geography, when localized in terms of the cosmos (Olympos = Heaven; Hades = the south pole of the spherical earth; Ocean is the outer sea that stretches around the rim of

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the earth), are signs of Stoicizing reading, whether Crates’ or earlier Stoics. For Aristarchus, all this is absurd if you interpret Homer from Homer: Olympos is the tallest mountain on earth; while Hades is located above Tartaros, but both lie beneath the surface of the - for Homer, flat earth, which is watered by Ocean, a river that feeds other rivers. The current reconstruction of the Stoic tradi­ tion could well be wrong. It hinges on a number o f assumptions. So little survives of the Stoics’ vast output that generalizations e silentio can only be risky. The arguments against Stoic allegory can easily have been overstated. Determining strong or weak intentionality is especially hazardous in Greek, where to nooumenon ovdianoêm ata (“what is meant”) can cover both categories. But none of this changes the fact that Homer was central to the way the Stoics presented their philosophy about the world to the world. References and Suggested Readings Ramelli and Lucchetta 2004.

JAMES I. PORTER Storytelling In Homeric epic the characters, like the poet-narrator, display storytelling skills. The most prominent example is Odyssey 9-12 (see Apologue), where Odysseus himself tells the story o f his wanderings to the Phaeacians. There is something of an Iliadic parallel at 9.189191, where Achilles performs the klea andrôn for Patroklos (see k l e o s ). Klea andrôn - “fames of men” - is a technical term for “epic” in Archaic Greek poetics; we are not given the content of Achilles’ song, but the implication is that he too sings his own epic fame here. On the other hand, this is far more obliquely represented for Achilles in the I l i a d than it is for Odysseus in the O d y s s e y . The difference is related to the Odyssey’s greater preoccupation with storytelling as such, and ten­ dency to define storytelling’s function and possi­ bilities in a manner unique in the Greek hexameter tradition. The performances by Odysseus and Achilles are just two manifestations of the general heroic requirement to be a "speaker of words” as well as a “performer of deeds” (II. 9.443). Others include the various stories told by heroes in both epics, to various ends. In the Iliad, the effectiveness of

other speech acts, such as command and flyting (i.e., boast-and-insult contests) often depends upon the hero’s ability to come up with a suitable narrative. For instance, Agamemnon challenges Diomedes with a story that suggests he is inferior to his father T ydbus (4.370-400); Achilles intimi­ dates and humiliates Aeneas with a reminiscence o f a previous occasion on which Aeneas fled in terror from Achilles’ spear (20.187-190); and Glaukos emotionally disarms Diomedes with a lengthy, fairytale-like account o f his own ancestry that prompts his opponent to conclude that the two of them are friends, not enemies after all (6.145-211; see Glaukos-D iomedes Episode). This is why Richard Martin (1989, 47) concludes that the genres o f “command” and “flyting” are subordinate to “the performance of memory.” In general, stories in the Iliad are intended to per­ suade the listener to some kind of action (see Speech-Act T heory). Off the battlefield, nota­ ble examples include paradeigmata: models of heroic behavior from the past, which the listener is urged to imitate (cf. Phoinix on Meleager, 9.524-599, and Achilles on Niobe 24.602-617; see Paradigms). In these storytelling contexts the narrator may radically alter the content and emphasis of a traditional story to suit the needs of the immediate situation and the interests of the audience. While other heroes in the Iliad employ stories as a complement to other kinds of action, Nestor stands out, in Iliad and Odyssey alike, as one whose only form of action is telling stories. Three generations old, he is past fighting, but seeks to influence younger heroes with tales of his glory days (1.260-284, 11.667-672; see also Remi­ niscences). Some modern critics praise Nestor’s adaptability to his audiences, and liken him to the Muses, the Sirens, and an a o i d o s “bard”; but others find fault with his long-winded rhetoric. In general, successful Homeric storytelling seems to depend on a more immediate relationship between the storytelling situation and the actions described in the story than Nestor’s tales exhibit. This is especially true in the Odyssey. The tale of his adventures that Odysseus tells to the Phaeacians is still “a work in progress” (Minchin 2007,266). The Odyssean insistence on a close temporal relationship between the subject matter of stories told and their telling is in fact a key issue, for it is

STORYTELLING one o f the respects in which the Odyssey suggests a difference between, and even superiority of, cer­ tain kinds of storytelling to epic song. Even epic song, as conceived by the Odyssey, is “newer” (i.e., deals with more recent events) than the Iliad sug­ gests (cf. Od. 1.351-352,8:73-82 and 491-521; cf. II. 6.357-358,9.524 and 527,22.300-305). But the Odyssey also distinguishes epic song itself from stories of another kind, of which Odysseus’ nar­ rative in Books 9-12 is merely the most extended example: autobiographical accounts of things seen and experienced by the teller first-hand. Examples occur throughout the poem and include Nestor’s and M e n ela o s ’ accounts of their returns from Troy as well as the swineherd E um aio s ’ tell­ ing o f his life-story to Odysseus (3.103-200, 4.351-592, 14.192-359, 15.352-379, 17.415-444, 19.165-202). The reason is that the Odyssey, unlike the Iliad, shows a particular interest in storytelling’s effect on the teller. Ideally, that effect will be pleasurable, even - or especially - when the events described were once painful. A key pas­ sage is Odyssey 15.398-401, where Eumaios rec­ ommends to the disguised Odysseus that the two o f them “take pleasure” in “remembering and retelling” their “sad sorrows.” In other words, “troubles talk” can be enjoyable, even therapeutic. Crotty (1994, 173) suggests that the Odyssey advocates an “ability to stand apart from [griefs] sufficiently to transmute them into a public narrative”; but the process actually seems to work the other way round. It is the very act o f storytelling that shifts the teller’s perspec­ tive. This point is emphasized when Odysseus protests, before he tells the Phaeacians of his wanderings, that the act of recalling it all is too painful (9.12-13; cf. 19.116-120). There are other examples of the "therapeutic word” (Entralgo 1970, 23) in Homer. In the Iliad, Nestor and Patroklos “cheer” and “strengthen” wounded warriors with conversation (11.643, 15.392-394). But the notion that storytelling, specifically, can be therapeutic for the teller, rather than the listener, in something like the fashion of modern psychoanalysis, is unique to the Odyssey. It also has wide implications. It means that, according to the Odyssey (unlike the Iliad), mortals have a certain autonomy and agency in translating suffering into pleasurable experience.

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Nevertheless, not all storytelling is equally suc­ cessful, even in the Odyssey. In a scene that acts as foil both for the pleasurable exchange o f “troubles talk” by Odysseus and Eumaios and for the delight Odysseus and Penelope find later on in sharing stories o f their experiences while separated (23.301), Helen and Menelaos tell stories about Troy when Telbmachos visits them at Sparta. The storytelling begins at a point in the evening when guests and hosts alike are overwhelmed by grief for friends lost at Troy. Helen responds by treating the wine with a drug reminiscent of the Muses’ poetry in its capacity to cause “forgetful­ ness o f all sorrows” (220-226; cf. Hes. Th. 55, 98-99; see Magic). She then tells a tale about Troy: how she alone recognized Odysseus when he entered the city in disguise as a beggar; she bathed him, and longed to be back with the Greeks (240-264). Menelaos responds right away with a different story. He recalls the time when Helen deceived all the Greek warriors except Odysseus by walking round the Wooden Horse, imitating the voices o f their wives (266-289). In context, the stories do not obviously create pleas­ ure. Their contradiction on the topic of Helen’s loyalty suggests unresolved tension between the husband and the wife. Gender dynamics and the sociology of storytelling are also relevant consid­ erations: Helen is unusual among female Hom­ eric storytellers in putting herself and her own achievements center-stage. But beyond that, Helen’s effort to anaesthetize painful stories with a drug underscores how far the actual stories fall short of the Muses’ enchantment and the Odyssey’s other internal narratives, whose narrators have “finished” with the painful past. The juxtaposition of Helen’s and Menelaus’ tales also brings out another point equally perti­ nent to the Odyssey’s other stories. It is frequently impossible, even in real life, to determine the truth about the past independent of the contra­ dictory stories individuals tell about it; the more so since a narrative of events remembered is no simple or transparent recapitulation, but rather a reconstruction and reshaping o f past experience (see Memory). This potentially problematic fea­ ture is exploited to great ironic effect in those parts of the Odyssey where Odysseus is the narra­ tor. Any listener/reader of the Odyssey is privy to the fact that when he returns to Ithaca, Odysseus tells his family and friends a series of “false” or

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“lying” tales about his identity, in three of which he pretends to be a stranger from C rete (13.256— 286, 14.199-359, 19.172-202; see L ie s ). This has often provoked external audiences to wonder about the truth status of the stories Odysseus tells the Phaeacians about his wanderings in Books 9-12, for most of which there is no independent “evidence” in the poem. Whether one views the question as intriguing or naive, it does at least raise the additional question of what it would mean for those tales to be “false” or “true,” given that the Odyssey itself is a fiction. To complicate matters further, even the false status of Odysseus’ “lying” or “Cretan” tales is hardly straightforward. Scholars have repeatedly pointed out that all these so-called lying tales contain elements of truth, or metaphorical truths. Their presence also indicates an Odyssean appreciation for fiction as such. Storytelling as represented in both Homeric epics, then, invites us to reflect further on just what kind of speech act a story is, and what its range of effects may be on listener and teller alike. Storytelling in the Odyssey, specifically, also anticipates many questions that arise in contem­ porary debates. These include questions about the circumstances and conditions under which constructing and relating a personal narrative is truly, or most, therapeutic, and questions about the extent to which it is legitimate to “deceive” one’s audience by taking the “creative” approach to the past that one inevitably and necessarily must when writing in modern genres such as memoir. See also Poets and Poetry. References and Suggested Readings Trahman 1952; Nagy 1974, 256; 1979 [1999), 96; Hansen 1982; Haft 1983-1984; Thalmann 1984, 166; Finley 1989,39; Pratt 1993,73,91; Dickson 1995,25-37, 64; Doherty 1995b, 1 7 ,2 2 -2 3 ,5 6 -6 1 ,1 3 2 ,1 4 8 -1 5 8 ,1 7 4 and n. 40; Olson 1995,44 n. 3; Ahl and Roisman 1996, 167-181; H. Mackie 1996, 6 7-71, and 1997; de Jong 2001, 102, 326-328. HILARY S. MACKIE

Strabo and Homer Historian and geographer, Strabo (ca. 64 bce-23 c e ) was born in Amasia, Pontus; his ancestors on his mother’s side were high officials and friends o f the kings of Pontus,

Mithridates V Euergetes and Mithridates VI Eupator, but he supported the Romans during the Mithridatic War. When young, Strabo was the pupil of the historian and Homeric scholar Aristodemus of Nysa, the philosopher Xenarchus of Seleucia, and the grammarian Tyrannion of Amisus. In his adult life he visited and lived in Rome, Alexandria, Nysa, and possibly Smyrna and Athens. In Rome (in 44 and 29 bce) he met Roman notables and Greek intellectuals, and in 25 bce joined Aelius Gallus on his mission as gov­ ernor of Egypt. After writing earlier historio­ graphical work(s), he composed his Geography sometime between 18 and 23 ce. He died in Rome or, less likely, in Asia Minor. His works included (1) History. Alexander’s Deeds, Historical Notes, and a sequel to Polybius’ Histories in forty-three books; few fragments survived (FGrHist 91); (2) Geography: seventeen books describing the entire inhabited world, oikoumenê. Strabo specifies his familiarity with Homer from childhood (8.3.3). His teacher, Aristodemus of Nysa, produced editions of the Homeric epics and composed commentaries to them. Menecrates, Aristodemus’ father, studied with Aristar­ chus of Samothrace, and himself composed a comparison between the Iliad and the Odyssey. Strabo’s Stoic background probably encouraged him to credit Homer with universal knowledge (see Stoic Interpretations). In his Geography Strabo crowns Homer as the first geographer ( 1. 1. 11) and the founder (arkhêgetês) o f geogra­ phy (1.1.2). He also describes the poet as having many voices (poluphonos) and very learned Ipoluistor) beside referring to him throughout the entire work as “The Poet” The Homer of Strabo is an experienced traveler, historian, and geographer who, like Strabo him­ self, wished to teach and help his readers. In ascribing to Homer both chronological priority and enormous knowledge and wisdom, Strabo in fact continues a tradition, apparent specifically in the geographical context in the works of Hipparchus, Polybius, and Posidonius. At the same time he raises a lively debate with Erato­ sthenes on the role of poetry and in particular the status of Homer as a scholar, opposing Eratos­ thenes’ view that poetry was meant solely for entertainment and not for teaching. According to his almost worshipping attitude toward Homer, Strabo relies on the Homeric epics throughout

STYLE the entire geographical survey, except for Book 4, which describes the regions of Gaul and Britain, unknown to Homer. The epics are cited as sources for various kinds of information. Strabo summarizes Homer’s view of the oikoumenê, its shape and its regions (1.1.3— 7), and exploits the Catalogue op Ships as a geographical framework for his description of Greek regions. He relies on the O d y s s e y particu­ larly in the context of the western Mediterranean (Book 3), and on the I l i a d particularly in his description o f the Troad (Book 13). Strabo also challenges some well-known commentators of Homer, such as Demetrius of Scepsis , Crates of Mallos, Aristarchus o f Samothrace, Apollodorus of Athens, and Aristonicus of Alexandria, and includes many passages of Homeric criticism focusing on particular verses. References and Suggested Readings Schenkeveld 1976; Desideri 1999; Dueck 2000, 31-40; B ir a s c h i 2 0 0 5 ; K im 2 0 0 7 . D A N IE L A D U E C K

Stratios (ZTpaTÍoç) One of the sons of Nestor and Eurydike. At the sacrifice that took place in Pylos, Stratios with his brother Echephron led the sacrificial bull by the horns (Od. 3.413, 439). According to the Hesiodic Catalogue o f Women ([Hes.] fr. 35.10-14 M-W, followed by Apollod. 1.9.9), Nestor’s wife and the mother of his sons was Anaxibie.

Strife

see E r is .

Structuralism

see Contemporary Theory.

Style Homer’s style can be regarded from a number of different aspects. Among them are the use of traditional formulae and epithets; the use of archaic language; special features of vocabulary, such as the frequency of rare words (hapax l e o o m e n a ) and the differences between narrative and speeches; speech introduc­ tions; the prevalence of repetitions, typescenes, and ring composition; and the use of RHETORICAL FIGURES OF SPEECH, SIMILES,

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metaphor, irony, and assonance. In this sec­

tion consideration will be given especially to Homeric sentence structure and word placement within the verse. Homeric style has been termed an “adding,” “paratactic,”or“cumulative”style (see Parataxis). This refers to two characteristics in particular. First, the essential components o f a sentence are placed early, so that the structure and sense quickly become evident (“[The] anger sing, Goddess,” II. 1.1). Secondly, these ideas are subse­ quently amplified by phrases (“[the angerj of Peleus’ son Achilles, / destroying [anger|”), or clauses (“which innumerable afflictions brought upon the Achaeans,” 1.1—2), and further coordi­ nate sentences often linked by 6 é “and.” The beginning o f the O d y s s e y follows a similar pat­ tern: “The hero sing, Muse, the resourceful one, who widely / wandered, after Troy’s holy citadel he had sacked. /And many men’s cities he saw... /and much he suffered...” (1.1-4). This is clearly the result of the oral nature of Homeric epic, sharply contrasted with Milton’s literate style, where the initial sentence structure remains unclear until the sixth line (“O f Man’s first diso­ bedience ... Sing, heav’nly Muse” (Paradise Lost I . 1-6). E. Bakker (1997b, 63) refers to Iliad I I . 211-217, where after the main sentence “But Hector ... jumped to the ground” no fewer than eight following grammatically independent clauses are each linked on by Sé “and” (see also

Syntax). Long periodic sentences do, however, some­ times occur in Homer, with the main clause placed early so that there is no obscurity. Zeus, giving instructions to Hera, begins with a oneline “If...” clause, delivers his main verb at the start of the next line, “go....” adds a second com­ mand “and summon Iris and Apollo...” eluci­ dated with an object clause, and continues with a purpose clause which has two coordinate verbs “so that she may go ... and may tell...” and another object clause explaining her commission; then follows a parallel clause (linked by Sé) add­ ing his instructions to Apollo too in coordinate verbs (“stir up Hector ... renew his strength ... make him forget his sufferings,” which are elabo­ rated in a short relative clause), and carries on for another eight lines with further orders and pre­ dictions (II. 15.53-67). This is in fact still the “adding” style, easy for the audience to follow.

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STYLE

The same is the case for the more emotionally effective soliloquy of Hector as he ponders whether to stand and face Achilles, a long string of “If I should...” clauses finally breaking off (after eleven verses) with a “but why do I...? ” interjection ( 22 . 111- 122 ). This “adding” technique is very clear in the amplification o f type-scenes. An obvious exam­ ple is the scene of a warrior donning his armor, which has four main instances (Paris , II. 3.330338; Agamemnon, 11.17-45; Patroki.os, 16.131-144; Achilles, 19.369-391; see ArmingScenes; Weapons and Armor). In each case the successive actions are described in identical verses, followed by varying descriptive additions. Each hero first puts on his greaves, followed by the same verse of amplification. Next comes the breastplate, described in a single following verse for Paris and Patroklos, in nine verses for Agamemnon. The sword-strap and sword are then slung around the shoulders, Agamemnon’s receiving a two-verse description, the others just one word (“bronze”). The hero picks up his shield , Agamemnon’s aspis described in eight lines, the sakos of the others by only two adjec­ tives (“massive and heavy”), though in Achilles’ case its blaze is amplified in two similes, one short and one long. The helmets are then donned, three of them sharing identical horse­ hair crests, Achilles’ enjoying a simile and a lengthier description. Finally Paris picks up a lance (enkhos), Agamemnon and Patroklos twin spears (doure), and Patroklos and Achilles share a five-verse passage explaining how the latter took up Pei.eus’ mighty spear, but the former could not wield it (16.140-144 = 19.387-391). The identical sequence of actions anchors the varying added amplifications and makes each passage easy for the audience (and the singer) to follow. Besides its beginning and end, a Homeric verse may be articulated at several regularly placed points within the line, known as c a e s u r a e . At the beginning o f the verse, a new sentence may begin, or a new subordinate clause continuing in enjambment from the preceding line, or there may be a single word (a “runover” word) elabo­ rating an idea in the preceding verse and often gaining emphasis from its initial position in the verse and a following “A” caesura; the participle “destroying (anger),” quoted above from Iliad 1.2,

is a good example. The mid-verse or “B” caesura is almost ubiquitous (occurring in nearly 99 per­ cent of verses), and the verse-units between that caesura and the “C” caesura or b u c o l ic d ia e r e sis (metrically, light-heavy-light-light) and between this diaeresis and the verse-end (usually heavylight-light-heavy-anceps; see further M e t e r ) often show features that characterize the poet’s style. The traditional epithet that often follows the bucolic diaeresis is sometimes replaced by a phrase that may end the verse or begin a new enjambing sentence. Runover words, in enjambment with the pre­ ceding verse and followed by a sense-break (as in //. 1.2 , quoted above), may be adjectives, nouns, or verbs, and sometimes carry considerable emo­ tional force and may therefore be considered an aspect of style (though of course we cannot com­ pare Homer’s usage with that of other contem­ porary poets). The adjective deinos “terrible” is used in this position to qualify the god Apollo as he approaches to strike Patroklos (16.789, emphasized by the following note of the hero’s unawareness); also for the spear of Achilles (and Peleus), as he draws near to the nervously wait­ ing Hector (22.134, the terrifying vision con­ tinued into the following similes); and for the hands of Achilles as P r ia m kisses them (24.478, extended by the following amplifications “man­ slaughtering [hands], that had killed many o f his sons”). A common and effective runover adjec­ tive is nêpios “foolish,” introducing the narrator’s comment on a character’s action (e.g., 22.445; Od. 1.8-9). Three times gumnos “naked, dis­ armed” is used in this way to stress the dishonor­ ing o f Patroklos’ corpse (II. 17.122, 693, 18.21), in each case followed by a clause emphasizing Hector’s possession of Achilles’ own armor. Sometimes a proper name or patronymic is so used with pathetic effect, as when the runover “Priam’s son” introduces a hero’s victim (11.490, 20.408-410), or Hector’s name is so used after his death to lead on to words o f grief for him (24.501,742). Verbs in the runover position may also have a special impact, especially monosyllabic forms. Letting loose an arrow, the angry Apollo “/struck (ßöX\’), and the corpse-fires burned continually everywhere” (II. 1.51-52); the C yc lo p s , having seized two men, against the ground “/ dashed (ko u t ') [them], and their brains ran out” (Od.

SU IT O RS OF PENELOPE

9.289-290). Núf’, “he struck” is used as a runover nine times in the I l i a d (e.g., 11.96,235), and the poet seems very aware of the onomatopoeic effect of such a word in this position. A fine example of the cumulative effect of a series of runover words can be found in Achilles’ meditative, immensely serious response to O dysseus in the Embassy scene in the Iliad, in one passage of which there are seven runover words in twelve lines, three of them the patronymic of the hated Agamemnon (/ ÂTpeTôr)ç; 9.330-341), which the bard must have rendered with much emphasis. These features of Homeric style add much variety to the verse, and runover words often add emphasis to an idea, while the alternative break at the bucolic diaeresis avoids possible monotony and may add rapidity and smoothness. How far Homer’s contemporaries also exploited these possibilities we cannot tell. References and Suggested Readings Kirk 1985, 34-37; Edwards 1987, 5 5-60 and 1991, 4 2 - 4 4 ; B a k k e r 1997a. M A RK W . EDW A RD S

Stymphalos (lT 6 |i(|>r|\oc;) A city in Arcadia, on the northwest side of the Stymphalian lake, men­ tioned in the Catalogue of Ships (II. 2.608). One of the labors of Heraki.es, the driving away of the-Stymphalian birds, was believed to have taken place here. The location of the Classical, Hellenistic, and Roman Stymphalos was different from that of the ancient one (Paus. 8.22.1-3; Strab. 8.8.4). See also Arcadians.

Sty ra (Ztiipa) A city on the west coast o f south­ ern Euboea, facing Attica, some 15 miles north­ west of Karystos; mentioned in the Catalogue of Ships (II. 2.539). The Classical Stvra, which was probably at the same site as the Homeric one, participated in the Persian Wars with two ships (Hdt. 8.1,8.46); it was destroyed by Athens in the Lamian War (323-322 bce) (Strab. 10.1.6; Paus. 4.34.11). References and Suggested Readings Kirk 1985,204.

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Styx (Ztúí;) The waters of the Styx appear in two roles in the Homeric poems, as one of the rivers o f the Underworld and as the greatest oath o f the gods, but Styx is never personified as she is in Hesiod. Athene uses the Styx to refer to the Underworld (II. 8.367), and Kirke directs Odysseus to the confluence of the rivers of the Underworld: Acheron, Pyriphlegthon, and Kokytos, which she describes as an offshoot of the waters of the Styx (Od. 10.514). The T itarf.sios is also called an offshoot of the Styx, with the result that its waters do not mingle with those of the Thessalian Peneios River (II. 2.755). Although Homer gives the Styx this Thessalian location and Strabo (9.5.19—20) identifies the Titaresios with the Thessalian Europus, other authors place it in Arcadia (Hdt. 6.74; Strab. 8.8.4; Paus. 8.17.618.6). The waters o f the Styx are most often described as the greatest and most dreadful oath o f the gods, and both Hera and Kalypso invoke it in their oaths (Ü. 14.271, 15.37; Od. 5.185). Hesiod provides the story that Zeus granted Styx this privilege in return for her early support against the T itans (Th. 397-403). Any god who breaks an oath sworn by Styx must lie senseless beneath the waters o f the Styx for a full year and then suffer exile from Olympos for another nine years (794-805). See also Underworld, Topography of. R A D C L IF F E G . E D M O N D S I II

Suitors o f Penelope As the O d y s s e y opens, Odysseus absent for twenty years, his where­ abouts unknown for the last ten, 108 suitors, aris­ tocrats from Ithaca and the nearby areas (1.245-251 = 16.122-128, cf. 19.130-135), are occupying his palace, ostensibly seeking to marry Penelope. A modern audience may underesti­ mate the extent of the threat they represent to Penelope and T^lemachos and the severity of their violations and corruptions o f the norms o f civilization in the Odyssey's world. In their lack o f responsibility and repeated failure to honor the gods, the Suitors serve as thematic opposites to Odysseus, negative examples of self-control. They are the poem’s foremost embodiments of Zeus’ programmatic characterization o f mortal irresponsibility: they blame others for the negative

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SUITORS OF PENELOPE

consequences of their own acts, conforming closely to his example of Aigisthos (1.29-43; see T heodicy). Athene’s attitude toward them seals their fate, their doom, very early in the epic (1.224229). While for the most part the Suitors are a group, several are developed as distinct characters, particularly the two ringleaders, Antinoos and Eurymachos, but also Amphinomos, Leiodes, and to a lesser extent Ktesippos. The Odyssey frames the Suitors through their repeated violations of hospitality, a sacred ins­ titution. The Odyssey uses thematic instances of hospitality as a moral index of characters’ moral­ ity and piety (cf. Race 1993, 82). When Athene appears among them disguised as the mortal Mentes, she sets into motion the specific sub­ genre of hospitality myth, theoxeny, in which a god tests hospitality by appearing as a stranger, as the Odyssey later defines (17.483-487). (Genesis 19 offers an instructive parallel in the mob that would take over Lot’s house.) Noting their unruly behavior, Athene characterizes them as hubrizontes (1.227; see Hybris), declaring, “a discerning man would be outraged, seeing their many shameless acts” (cf. Yahweh’s “their sins are exceedingly great,” Gen. 19:20). However, their destruction is postponed compared to the sequence of events in two parallel narratives, Genesis 19 and Ovid’s myth of Baucis and Philemon (Met. 8.611-724). Why? Though they provoke Athene’s wrath in Book 1, the Odyssey delays their punishment and destruction until Odysseus’ return, so that he can carry it out, under the goddess’s direction. They repeat their violations of hospitality when he is among them in disguise, as a stranger from elsewhere (Books 17-21). When they do so, the modality is quite similar to how Jesus is treated as he makes his way into Jerusalem, the last third or so of each of the Gospels, perhaps implying a common type of myth we might characterize as “The King returns, unrecognized, and abused in his own kingdom.” The Odyssey figures the Suitors as polar oppo­ sites to Odysseus in their excessive and/or inap­ propriate consumption. The most striking, if indirect, depiction of the Suitors in this regard is when they are figured as ticks, sucking the blood out of Argos (17.300). The graphic image instan­ tiates their relentless consumption o f the palace’s resources. On their last day (Books 20-22), their drinking is emphasized. They each have three

servings of wine, apparently, before the archery contest (20.252-254, 21.263-273). Their desire for Penelope similarly violates accepted behavior, particularly the sanctity of m a r r i a g e , in her status as a married woman. Their desire, graphically figured as lust when she comes down the stairs (18.206-213, cf. 1.366), is inappropriate, her husband present while they fantasize about having sex with her. As such they again conform to Zeus’ example of Aigisthos (1.39), who was pursuing a married woman. Several of the Suitors are having sex with Penelope’s maidservants, further evidence of their violation of the institution of marriage, an ironic comment on the extent of their fidelity to Penelope. While some passages suggest the maid­ servants do so willingly (18.325, 19.87-88, 20.616, 22.445; cf. 17.319), Melantho in particular, other passages (16.108-109 = 20.318-319) imply harassment by the Suitors. The night before the Suitors’ destruction, the disguised Odysseus observes the maids as they leave to have sex (20.6-13). In a more specifically Greek concern, the Suitors thematically abuse rhetoric. As such they should be seen as proto-Sophists, putting forth arguments that take in the unwitting, but lack any validity, such as Antinoos’ claim that Penelope, not the Suitors, is to blame for their occupation o f the palace (2.85-128). The external audience should not find anything they say accurate or persuasive (cf. Milton’s Satan). They often speak with extreme irony, especially Antinoos and Eurymachos, but there is often additional unin­ tended irony in their comments, which rebounds against them (e.g., 17.226-228 = 18.362-364, 18.353-355, 20.296-298 and 376-383). Eury­ machos’ mocking of Odysseus’ baldness (18.353355) finds a parallel in 2 Kings 2:23-25. Their deaths comprise one of the Odyssey's two climaxes (Odysseus’ recognition- scenes with Penelope and Laertes forming the other). Each suitor first handles the bow with which he will be slain, but is unable even to string it. As Leiodes complains, with the unintended irony that is the Suitors’ trademark, the bow will undo them all (21.153-154). Their unsuccessful attempts, implicitly from weakest (Leiodes) to strongest suitor (Antinoos), are the reverse order in which Odysseus slays them, strongest to weak­ est, an intriguing instance of ring composition

SUPPL I CATI ON

833

Menelaos to gods; 5.449—450, Odysseus to rivergod; 6.141-144, 147, 149, 168-169, 193 (and 7.292, 301) Odysseus to Nausicaa; 6.10-11, 7.141-142, Odysseus to Arete; 164-165 = 180— 181, Echeneos and Alkinoos on Zeus as pro­ tector of suppliants; 9.266-267, Odysseus to Polyphemos; 10.264, Eurylochos to Odysseus; 10.323-324, Kirke to Odysseus; 10.480-481, Odysseus to Kirke; 10.521 = 11.29 Odysseus to the dead; 1 1.66-68 Elpenor to Odysseus; 11.530, Neoptolemos to Odysseus; 13.231 and 324, Odysseus to Athene; 14.279, Odysseus’ false tale of supplicating the Egyptian king; 14.511 and 17.573, Odysseus the suppliant of Eumaios; References and Suggested Readings 15.277-278, T heoclymenos to Telemachos; See further Jones 1954! Levine 1983a; Dimock 1989, 16.67, disguised Odysseus the suppliant of 19-36,225-245; Race 1993; Louden 1999,18-19,21-23, Telemachos; 18.394-395, disguised Odysseus to 32-34, 38^10, 87-88. Amphinomos. Literary considerations affect the BRUCE LOUDEN presentation of supplication in the Homeric poems, which display different attitudes toward the ceremony. In the O d y s s e y , Zeus is said to protect suppliants (6.207—208, 9.266-271; cf. Sun see Helios. Theog. 143-144), but no such claim is made in the I l i a d . Supplication ( íketeíci) Supplication begins with “Spare me” supplication; Iliad 6.45-65, an approach and a gesture of self-abasement, Adrastos (3) to Menelaos; 10.454-459, Dolon inviting a decision and response on the part of to Odysseus and Diomedes; 11.130-147, the person supplicated, the supplicandus. In the Peisandros ( I) and Hippolochos (2) to fullest form of the ceremony, like the supplication Agamemnon; 20.463-472, Tros (2) to Achilles; of T hetis to Zeus, the suppliant will crouch, sit, 21.64—135, Lykaon (1) to Achilles; 22.338-404, or kneel, taking hold of the knees of the suppli­ Hector to Achilles, for his corpse to be returned candus with one hand, and his beard or chin with to his family; Odyssey 22.310-329, Leiodes to the other (II. 1.407, 427, 500, 512, 557). Thetis Odysseus; 332-356, Phemios to Odysseus; then addresses her request, lissomené (1.502). 22.365-380, Medon (3 ) to Telemachos. It is (The verbs lissesthai and litaneuô and the noun usually an appeal for mercy in battle, often for litai are frequent in contexts of supplication, but ransom, but such appeals can be rejected or cut also in contexts unconnected with it, and do not, short, at the discretion of the supplicandus. by themselves, constitute supplication.) Zeus says Diomedes kills Dolon even as the spy reaches nothing for some time, and Thetis challenges him out for his chin (II. 10.454—456), because of his to refuse, as she maintains the contact (1.513), capacity to be a nuisance in future. Lykaon finds until he nods in assent. himself facing Achilles, who is ready to strike Further examples of "help me” supplication are him with his spear. He runs under the spear and Iliad 9.451, Phoinix’s mother to Phoinix; 581clasps Achilles’ knees, but his appeal is rejected. 583, Oineus to Meleager; 15.660-666, Nestor Aghast, Lykaon lets go o f Achilles’ knees, stretch­ to the Greeks; 16.573-574, Epeigeus to Thetis ing out both hands before him (21.115-116) in and Peleus; 18.457-461, Thetis to Hephaistos; a gesture o f prayer (Burkert 1996, 88 ). Achilles 22.74-91, Priam and Hecuba to Hector; kills him, because his desire for vengeance out­ 22.239-241, Priam and Hecuba to “Deiphobos”/ weighs pity, and there is no obligation to accept Athene; 24.58, 187, 465^ 67, 477-506, 570, supplication. When the physical contact is bro­ Priam to Achilles; Odyssey 3.92 = 4.322 ken before the concession is promised, supplica­ Telemachos to Nestor and Menelaos; 4.433, tion is taken to be abandoned. On one occasion,

(Reece 1995). Leiodes, first to attempt to string the bow and last to be slain by it, frames the slaughter of the Suitors, much as Elpenor frames the crew’s descent to Hades. Odysseus’ slaying of them should not be seen as revenge on his part, but the necessary conclusion of Athene’s wrath against them, which they incite in the poem’s opening book (again, 1.224-229). As such, their deaths constitute a clear instance of over­ determination, as formulated by Lesky and Dodds, in which a god and a mortal are both jointly responsible for bringing an event to pass (see Double Motivation).

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SU PPLIC ATIO N

contact is broken by violence: Adrastos (3), thrown from his c h a r i o t , finds Menelaos standing over him with a spear; he clasps Menelaos by the knees, and pleads to be spared for ransom. But Agamemnon taunts his bro­ ther for misplaced clemency, Menelaos pushes Adrastos away, and Agamemnon dispatches him (6.37-65). These rejected supplications lead up to Priam’s unforgettable supplication o f Achilles to obtain the body o f Hector. The old man clasps Achilles’ knees, and kisses the hands that have killed his sons (24.477-479), but at first Achilles pushes him away: only when Priam invokes Achilles’ pity for his own father does he raise him up and lead him by the hand to a chair (24.515,522, 571). R. Onians (1951, 174-186, 198 n. 1, 200-206) argued for the sanctity of knees, chin, and hands because they signify the physical strength and generative powers of a man expressed in the gen-/ gon- root of words like gonu (knee), geneion (chin), and gounazomai (“I clasp your knees”). However, the suppliant gestures may signify simply appeasement (Burkert 1979a, 43-45; 1996, 85-90). The suppliant establishes a protective contact with what is sacred and inviolable, but his insistence on touching parts that are closely guarded paradoxically mimics an invasive act of aggression, something which has been ruled out by the suppliant’s humble demeanor. Figurative supplication, which has less force, is achieved by the use o f such phrases as youvoöpai oe (“I clasp your knees”) or í k e t e ú i o o e (“I come to you as a suppliant”) in circumstances such as Odysseus’ approach to Nausicaa in Odyssey 6, where the completed act is impossible or inadvisable. Supplication is also achieved by reaching sacred ground, or the altar o f a god. The minstrel, Phemios, wonders whether to escape the fate of the Suitors of Penelope by slipping out of the hall and sitting in the courtyard at the altar o f Zeus Herkeios (Zeus o f the household). Finally he decides on supplicating Odysseus and protesting his innocence (22.332-337), but when he and Medon are spared, they go out and sit at the altar (22.375-380). In S c h er ia , Odysseus supplicates king Alkinoos by clasping the knees o f his wife, Arete, and praying for the well-being o f the company and the household before making his request for a safe escort home (7.141-153). Then he sits on

the ground in the ashes at the hearth (cf. Thuc. 1.136-137). Thus he implicitly requests (tempo­ rary) acceptance into the household, for the hearth is where the rites (the katakhusm ata) to incorporate outsiders, such as brides and slaves, are performed. A wife is regarded as a suppliant at the hearth, and that is probably why Arete sits there (6.305-307). The potential for rejection of Odysseus’ request is underlined by a long silence, eventually broken by the advice of the elder, Echeneos, to Alkinoos, to raise up the guest and lead him by the hand to a seat (7.162-166). Alkinoos gives Odysseus the honor he has pub­ licly disclaimed by seating him in the place of his son, L ao dam as (2), whom he dearly loves (7.170-171). The son symbolizes the integrity of the house, which appears threatened by the sup­ pliant’s arrival, but remains intact if both parties conform to the requirements of h o s p it a l it y . The sequence in Scheria is an example o f "help me" supplication (R. Parker 1983, 181-182), where the outsider (Odysseus) enforces a claim to honor and protection by means of a cere­ monial self-abasement which mimes the abdica­ tion of any such claim. The insider (Alkinoos) responds with the ceremonies of x e n ia , honor­ ing the suppliant and seeking to incorporate him into the household (7.311-315). Odysseus does not respect the supplication of the suitor, Leiodes (22.310-329), because the Suitors have violated xenia. Most supplications in the warrior society of the Iliad fail, but suppliants in the Odyssey are more likely to meet with respect for the divine sanctions strengthening their status. Burkert (1979a, 47 and 164n. 42) has a photo­ graph o f Bangladeshi prisoners pleading for their lives while embracing the knees o f their captors (Time Magazine, January 3 , 1972, p. 33): moments later they were killed. See a l s o

L it a i.

References and Suggested Readings Gould 1973; Létoublon 1980; Crotty 1994; Giordano, 1999; Alden 2000, 181-215; Droher 2006; Naiden 2006. M A U REEN ALD EN

Sword

see Weapons and Armor.

SYNTAX

Syme (Xúpr|) In the C atalogue of S h ip s (II. 2.671-675), the island located between R hodes and Knidos sends three sh ip s under the com­ mand of Nir e u s . Although Nireus is given not only a patronymic but also a matronymic and identified as “the most beautiful man” in the Greek forces at Troy after Ach illes , he is also said, paradoxically, to be without strength and without many people under his command. Neither Syme nor Nireus appears anywhere else in Homer. CAROLYN H IG B IE

Synizesis (“subsidence, collapse”) The pronounciation and scansion o f two vowels in con­ tact as one long rising diphthong, ni)Xr|táÔ£Íú. Synizesis is almost always applied to the out­ come of Q U A N TITA TIV E M E T A T H E S IS , leading to the question whether quantitative metathesis is really a process o f diphthongization. Synizesis sometimes applies across word boundaries as well, as in pi) dXXoi, when it is sometimes called synaloephe. When the result is written as a sin­ gle vowel (e.g., in tàXXa), it is called crasis, but it is unclear whether the difference is due to more than simply scribal practices. DAG TRYG V E TR U SLE W HAUG

Syntax The syntax of the language of Homeric poetry can be viewed from the following three perspectives, which partly align it with and partly set it apart from the Greek language in general: (1) typology; (2) diachrony; and (3) orality and performance. 1. Typology. Homeric Greek, as the Greek language in general, is often characterized as hav­ ing a syntax with “free” word order, in that there are no fixed rules for the placement of the subject, object, or verb of a clause. (In reality, word order in such languages is not free, but determined by pragmatic factors, in particular the information status of the constituents with respect to the wider discourse context; see Dik 1995.) The typically Homeric syntactic progression has often been discussed in terms of s t y l e (with such charac­ terizations as “adding,” “cumulative,” or “appositional”; see Parataxis), but is better accounted for as an instance of a particular kind of language.

835

Typologically, free-word-order languages are sometimes called “non-configurational”; there is little “configuration” in the form of hierarchical relations between constituents, and noun phrases typically are syntactically independent, without being “bound" to the verb as an obligatory subject or object (Devine and Stephens 1999, 142-148). English syntax is not well equipped to deal with such a decentered structuring of clauses. For example, a “configurational” translation like “And ruler o f men A g a m e m n o n sacrificed a fat fiveyear-old bull to the overpowering son of K r o n o s ” (II. 2.402-404) does not do justice to the Homeric original: aÜTÒQ ó ßoüv iéçeuaev aval; õ v ô q ü jv Ayapépvcov / niova irevraéTT)QO v úrteçpevéi Kqoviüivi. An unidiomatic English sentence better captures the flow of the passage: “But he, a bull, sacrified , ruler of men, Agamemnon, fat, five years old, Sacrificed it> to the overpowering one, the son o f Kronos.” The verb iéçeuaev “ sacrified ,” then, is not the nexus o f a clause, with the noun phrases comple­ menting it as its necessary “arguments” (subject, object, indirect object), but an element specifying the relationship between a number of syntacti­ cally independent pieces of information. The noun phrases are in a relation of apposition to zero-pronominal arguments that are sometimes actually expressed (e.g., Od. 6.48-49 fj piv êyeiçe Ncuxjocáav eönenXov “She woke her, N a u s i c a a of the beautiful robe” (cf. Bakker 1997b, 98; Devine and Stephens 1999, 144). Sometimes the placement of an enclitic particle shows that a given name is not the subject of the following verb, e.g., Iliad 16.220-221 avràQ 'AxiXXeuç ßfj Q ípev èç xXiaír|v “But A c h i l l e s , he strode to go to his tent.” Verbs in free-word-order languages are typically enclitic and tend to carry a lighter infor­ mational load than verbs in “configurational” languages such as English. In Greek this is best visible in the enclitic status of èaxi or cßaai and the omissibility of the former (as, for example, in xçEÍaauiv yàç ßaaiXei^ “for stronger king,” //. 1.80). 2. Diachrony. The enclitic status of verbs (and hence their placement in second position in their syntactic unit) is a commonly recognized fea­ ture of Proto-Indo-European (in Greek reflected prosodically in the regressive nature of the accent on verbs). In fact, most of the features mentioned

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SYNTAX

have been ascribed to Homeric Greek specifically as being closest heir to the Indo-European ances­ try. We may see Homeric syntax as a point on a continuum from Proto-Indo-European syntax to post-Classical stages of the language, when word order has become more fixed. Homeric Greek has diachronic access to linguistic strata that are not available to the Classical language any more (see Language, Homeric). The clearest case is the use o f what are in Classical Greek prepositions or pre­ verbs governing a noun in a specific case: Homeric Greek offers clear evidence that such a grammaticalized and syntactic function of the case ending was preceded by a language system in which both elements, preposition/preverb and case governed, were independent, standing in a relation o f appo­ sition to one another as adverb and locative or instrumental expression, respectively (Chantraine 1953, 83—85; Meillet 1964, 193). For example, the “datives” púxn and rtóvrtp are in reality locatives which do not need the preposition èv(i) to mean “in the battle” or “at sea” (e.g., II. 16.79; Od. 12.264); and conversely, the elements that were to become “prepositions” do not need to be comple­ mented by a noun in an oblique case: èv(í) by itself is an adverb of place, “in it,” “therein” (e.g., II. 14.216ÊV0' cvipèv(jnXÓTiiç,èvô’ 'ipeçoç,èvô’ òaQitmiç “And there in love, and in longing and in blandishment.” This former adverbial status of the prepositions and preverbs has a bearing on a phenomenon usu­ ally referred to in Homeric philology as tmesis, the "cutting off” of a preverb from its verb, which is seen as an archaic feature of Homeric language (Horrocks 1997, 201-202). The term “tmesis,” however, is infelicitous in that it takes the situation in Classical Greek, where preverb and verb form one complex word, as a norm from which Homeric Greek retroactively deviates. In reality, the prepo­ sition in tmesis is an adverb making its own con­ tribution to the meaning of the clause, e.g., II. 1.98 tiqív y ’ &:nò 7tatQl (|>iXio ôópevai bXixdmiöa xouQqv “until back to dear father he gives quick-eyed girl.” True to its eclectic and artificial nature (see K u n s t s p r a c h e ) , Homeric poetry displays a mix­ ture o f archaic adverbiais (that can be embedded in metrical formulae, e.g., rqòç pO0ov £0me“to word spoke,”xcrràôáxQ u X£OVTa“down tear pouring”) and usages that

are close to the Classical employment of preverbs. Pervasive and deliberate archaism cannot pre­ vent the diction from being shaped by the natural developments in the language. 3. Orality and performance . Most nonconfigurational languages come from cultures that lack an extensive tradition of literacy or abstract thought, and it has consequently been supposed that the non-hierarchical structure o f such languages is culturally conditioned (for discussion, see Devine and Stephens 1999, 206-209). This has been, without reference to linguistic typology, the prevalent attitude in Homeric philology, where the poetry’s appositional “style” has been ascribed to its originat­ ing in a less advanced stage of Greek culture. However, as stated above, Homeric syntax is not a matter of style per se but of a different language system, and it is not only linguistically but also methodologically and ideologically questionable to call one language system or type primitive with respect to another. But the syntax o f configurational languages like English does become more fragmented and non-configurational in the spoken registers of the language: rather than being integrated within a sentence, subject or object noun phrases can be realized as separate intonational units. To be sure, the language does not become of the nonconfigurational type when spoken, but it shares with non-configurational syntax the chunkwise linear progression in which information is pro­ duced and received in a succession of prosodically and semantically discrete units. Spontaneous unplanned speech is typically not produced in the sentences expected in written text; speech reflects the flow of consciousness of the speaker in being segmented into more or less discrete linguistic units, marked by intonation and/or pauses (Chafe 1994). Such syntax typical of spoken discourse is not only a necessary con­ sequence of the “online” production of speech; it is also conducive to successful comprehension, since listeners will be able better to process the information when it is presented piecemeal. The information flow in speech, then, is subject to cognitive constraints on the part of both the speaker and the hearer. Homeric syntax, being a high-register poetic idiom in a non-configurational language, is a stylized form of the flow of ordinary speech

SYR IE

(Bakker 1997b). Its progression, in which seman­ tic and prosodic units coincide with the recogniz­ able metrical cola of the verse (see C aesurae ), facilitates both production (or recall) and com­ prehension, while being in deep agreement with the natural flow of the language. In the rhythm of the hexameter, speech units typically occupy one half-verse, meeting at the middle caesura (though much variation and rhythmical com­ plexity occur). In the example cited earlier, the information conveyed would be grouped into four metrical units meeting at the trochaic cae­ sura and each being the verbalization of a “focus of consciousness": “But he, a bull, sacrificed , I ruler of men, Agamemnon, | fat, five years old, |Sacrificed it> to the overpowering one, the son of Kronos” (see further M eter ). A pragmatic account of word order in such speech syntax can be applied both within the units and to units with respect to each other. Fronted is always the demonstrative element ò (always accompanied with the contrastive or pro­ gressive p a r t i c l e s ôé or a Ú T á ç : ò Sé, a ú r à Q 6 “but h e...’’), indicating, when used in the nomi­ native, a switch: the narrative returns to a given character after an interval. We can call the pro­ noun a contrastive or discontinuous topic. The character’s name may or may not be mentioned, in the same unit (e.g., II. 5.617 ó S ’ è tté Ô Q a p e ai5ipoç; Ataç) or in a subsequent unit (as in 2.402). In the latter case the interval is likely to be longer than in the former. When a topic is con­ tinuous (i.e., when a character performs a series of actions in continuous succession), the first element of the unit tends to be the verb followed by Sé, as at 2.4Gj , following Agamemnon’s bull sacrifice: xbcXqoxev 5è yéQovraç | áQiaxéac; riavaxauov “and he called the elders, champions of the collective Achaeans.” When the fronted demonstrative is in an obli­ que case (xòv Sé “and him”), its function can be

837

called relational: it serves as link betw een the actio n (often speech) o f a character and the speech/action o f the character reacting to it (e.g., “and him he an sw ered ...”). T h e new or reacting character is typically referred to in the subsequent u nit. T h is is the m ost com m on way in w hich noun-EPiTHET form u lae are used, e.g., xòv S ’ a i t s nQocréeme noXúxXaç S ío ç

'OSuaaeúç

“and him he addressed |m u ch -su fferin g godlike O d ysseus ” (Bakker 1997b, 1 0 8 -1 1 1 ).

References and Suggested Readings The most detailed account of non-configurational syn­ tax in a framework of theoretical linguistics is Devine and Stephens 1999; the syntactic phenomena in ques­ tion are discussed against the background of histori­ cal linguistics and Proto-Indo-European syntax in Chantraine 1953 and Meillet 1964. Bakker 1997b pro­ vides an overview of syntax in spoken language. EG BE R T J . BA KKER

Syrie (Zupiq) E umaios ’ island birthplace (Od. 15.403—414). Identified with Syros in the Cyclades by the A l e x a n d r i a n s , it has been variously located by modern scholars according to their interpretations o f Eumaios’ directional markers “beyond O rtyg ie ” and “where the turnings of the sun are.” If the reference is to a real rather than fantasy place, it has been reimagined according to the O d y s s e y ’ s thematics. Hunger and disease are unknown, and the inhabitants die gentle deaths in ripe old age . Wrested from there to servitude on I thaca , Eumaios, like O d ysseus declining immortality, has found value in the harsh condi­ tions of “real” life. References and Suggested Readings Brown 1985. W ILLIA M G. THALMANN

T I

i.

!

Talaimenes (Ta\aipÉvr|ç) Ruler of the M aeon ians . M esth les and A n tiph o s (2), the leaders of the Maeonians in the T rojan C atalogue, were sons of Talaimenes and the nymph of the G ygaean Lake (II. 2.864-865).

Talaos (only in the patronymic TaXdiovi6ao) Ancient king of Argos , son or grandson of B ias (1) and P ero ; father o f Adrastos (1), M e k ist e u s , and other participants in the war of the Seven against Thebes (see T heban C ycle ); grandfather of E uryalos (1), one of the three leaders of the Argos contingent in the I l i a d . Talaos’ name twice emerges in the I l i a d as part of the genealogical form ula for the latter (2.566, 23.678; see G en ea lo g ies ). M A RG A LIT FIN K ELBER G

Talent (xdXavxov, from *xXáu> "to bear,” “to sup­ port”; Chantraine s.v. xaXáocai) A balance and hence a measure of weight, a talent. In Homer the talent is always a measure of gold (ten talents; II. 9.122 = 264, 19.247, 24.232; Od. 4.129; seven: 9.202, 24.274; two: II. 18.507, 23.269, 614; Od. 4.526; one: 8.393; half a talent: II. 23.751, 796; only the phrase ÔÉKa/Súto ypucroio xaXavxa “ten/

The H o m e r E n cyclop ed ia , edited by Margalit Finkelberg © 2011 Blackwell Publishing Ltd.

two talents of gold” is formulaic; see Formula ). The weight of the Homeric talent is unknown, but it was certainly much lighter than the silver talent of the Classical period (39.3 kg for the old Attic, 37.8 kg for the Aiginetan talent) and was apparently equivalent in value to one ox (cf. Hainsworth 1993, 74). The plural talanta means “a pair of scales,” as for example in the sim il e describing a spinning woman weighing out her daily portion of wool (II. 12.433-435). In the main narrative , however, the word invariably designates the golden scales of Z eus on which human fates are being weighed ( I l i a d only). This can be meant either literally, as in 8.69-72 (K olos M achê ) and 22.209-212 (the duel of Achilles and H ector ), or metaphorically (16.658,19.223; see M etaphor ). “This weighing of human fates is not an act of judgment by Zeus; it is rather a symbolic representation o f what is fated to happen” (Willcock 1978,261; see also Fate ). M A RG A LIT FIN K ELBERG

Talthybios (TaXöüßioc;) The herald of Agam ­ emnon . Throughout the I l i a d , Talthybios is being sent by his lord on various errands, such as taking B r ise is from Ach illes or refereeing the dubl between H ector and Ajax (1.320-327, 7.273282), as well as performing other public duties (3.118-120, 4.192-200, 19.196-197 and 267-268, 23.896-897). The Cyclic L i t t l e I l i a d represented Talthybios as taking active part in the summoning

TARTAROS

of troops for the expedition against T roy; he was also theonesentby Agamemnon ioKlytaimnestra to tell her to bring Iphigeneia to Aulis (arg. 5.8 West). Talthybios appears in Classical vase-paint­ ing and was a popular figure of the Greek tragic scene (see esp. Euripides’ The Trojan Women and Iphigeneia at Aulis). The Talthybiadai were a dan of heralds in Sparta (Hdt. 7.134.1). m a r g a l it

f in k e l b e r g

Tantalos (TávraXoç) Phrygian or Lydian, father of Pelo ps (C yprm fr. 15.4 Bernabé= 16.4 West) and, perhaps, of N io be (cf. II. 24.602-617). Condemned to eternal punishment in the U nderworld (Od. 11.582-592), along with T ity o s and S isy p h o s . In the O d y s s e y his pun­ ishment is described, but not his crime: he stood up to his chin in a swamp, of which the water dried up when he tried to drink; various fruits hung from trees above his head, but were blown out of his reach when he tried to touch them. More forthcoming, though different in detail, is the Cyclic R e t u r n s (fr. 4 Bernabé = fr. 3 West): Tantalos associated with the gods and requested from Z eus a pleasurable life like theirs; Zeus granted the wish, but denied its enjoyment by suspending a rock above Tantalos’ head. It is attractive to assume a symmetry between Tantalos’ crime and his punishment, and to infer that he transgressed by abusing his commensality with the gods, probably by offering them a cannibalistic meal of his son Pelops' flesh (cf. Pind. Olymp. l;Sourvinou-Inwood 1986,40-46). Homer’s description of the punishment of Tantalos (and the other sinners) fired the imagi­ nation of the 5th-century bcb painter Polygnotus (Pans. 10.31-32) and the later poets: Lucr. 3.980983; Verg. Aen. 6.602-607 (attached to the L a p it h s , I x io n , and Pe ir it h o o s ); Sen. Thy. 1-121; cf. also, much more loosely, Dante, Inferno, passim).

839

e p ith et is “oar-loving” (philêretmoi 1.181 = 419). The collected deeds of the Taphian pirates, and of their individual princes, like M en tes , read like a virtual primer for a new breed of Late Bronze and Early Iron Age entrepreneur. In 1.180-185 the “oar-loving Taphians” sail across the wine-dark sea to the land of men of strange speech in order to trade shining iron for copper (B ronze ). Their specific target was Tem esa , on the Tyrrhenian coast of south Italy. In 14.449-452 and again in 15.427-429, the Taphians engage in slave-trading; in the former passage, O dysseus ’ swineherd E umaios was able to buy M esaulios from the Taphians with his own goods, whereas in the lat­ ter passage, the Taphians seized, out of S ido n , a P hoenician girl, the daughter of an Arybas. In 16.425-430 we find the Taphian pirates raiding the T hf.spr o tia n s . The adventures of these west­ ern Greek pirates span the eastern and central Mediterranean, from the Levantine coast to the shores o f the Tyrrhenian Sea, and provide just one colorful model o f the movement o f people, commodities, and ideas. As for the location of Taphos, it has sometimes been equated with the small island o f Meganisi, one of the E chinadf.s islands off the southwest coast of Leukas, and by some scholars identified with Kephallenia (Strab. 10.2.14; cf. Malkin 1998, 73; see Kephallen es ).

See also S lavery. References and Suggested Readings Vermeule 1960; Papadopoulos 2001,446-448. JOH N K. PAPADOPOULOS

Tarne (Tápvq) A city in Maeonia, introduced as “very fertile” (eribôlax). The fartherland of Phaistos son of B oros (1), who was killed by I domen eus (II. 5.43-44). According to the scholia , the same as the later Sardis. See also M aeonians .

See also N ek yia . BRUNO C U RR IE

Taphians (Tácpioi) The Taphians appear in Homer only in the O dyssey, where they are called “pirates” (lêtitores 15.427, 16.426) and their

Tartaros (Tóprapoç) In Iliad 8.13 Z eu s threat­ ens to throw any god who disobeys him into “misty Tartaros, far away, where is the deepest abyss below the earth, with gates o f iron and a threshold of bronze , as far below H ad es as

840

TARTAROS

heaven is from earth.” This is where the T itans sit, bereft of sunlight and breezes (8.479-481). These passages are closely related to Hesiod ’s Theogony, where Tartaros is described in similar terms, though located on the same level as Hades (682, 717-819, 868; cf. also [Hes.] fr. 54a.6 M-W; Hymn. Ap. 336; Hymn. Merc. 256,374). According to Hesiod ( Th. 821-822), Tartaros mated with Earth to produce the monster T y ph o eu s . In the I l i a d and the genuine Hesiod, Tartaros is quite distinct from Hades and reserved for outof-favor g o d s . Later, the distinction is blurred: Zeus throws the mortal sinner S a i .m o n e u s there ([Hes.] fr. 30.22), and in [Hes.] Sc. 255 it is the destination of the dead in general. Besides the masculine Tartaros Hesiod uses the neuter plural Tartara (Th. 119; Táprapa yaiqç 841). The word may be related, as the ancients suspected, to the verb T a p á o a t o “stir up,” often used of troubled waters. The subterranean prison where the infernal deities have been confined by the highest god is paralleled in a 7th-century Assyrian priestly cosmology (West 1997a, 139; see also N ear E ast and Ho m er ). M ARTIN L. W EST

Taygetos (Tr|0y£Tov; probably from raOç “big,” “strong”) A high and steep mountain range in the Peloponnese, which separated M essenia and Lacedaemon . In Byzantine times and up until the 19th century it was known as Pentedaktylon (“five-fingered”). In Homer, Taygetos emerges only in a s im il e , where it is referred to as “lofty Taygetos” (Od. 6.103).

Tegea (Teyéq) One of the communities listed as sources of the A rcadian contingent in the C atalogue of S h ip s (II. 2.607). One of the lead­ ing cities of Arcadia in historical times, and hav­ ing an important position in Arcadian m y t h , its location is certain. At the site of its most impor­ tant sanctuary, that of Athena Alea, there is some M ycenaean material, but rich votive deposits of the Early Iron Age (from the 10th century bce onwards?), with 8th-century structures. The whereabouts of any prehistoric settlement and its significance as a prehistoric center remain to be demonstrated.

References and Suggested Readings Hope Simpson and Lazenby 1970,92; Howell 1970,92; Hope Sim pson 1981, 85; 0stby et al. 1994. O LIV ER T. P. K. DICKINSON

Teichoscopia In Iliad 3 (161-244), H elen comes to the walls of T roy to watch the duel between Paris and M enblaos . There P riam , surrounded by other Trojan elders, asks her to identify various Achaean leaders for him. She identifies and praises Agamemnon , O d ysseus (A ntenor adds an anecdote about Odysseus and Menelaos’ ear­ lier embassy to Troy), Id om eneus , and Ajax the G reater . The poet thus gives the Achaean heroes a fuller introduction, and describes their appear­ ance in particular, by presenting them as Helen sees them. Finally, Helen wonders why her broth­ ers, the D ioscuri , are not among the Achaeans. The narrator comments that they had died back at home in Lacedaemon . The scene seems out of place in the ninth year of the war. The episode, like the single combat between Paris and Menelaos, and the C atalogue of S h ip s , is adapted from traditional material about the beginning of the war (see C ypria ). The I l i a d adapts these episodes as part of a strategy for evoking the entire Trojan story, making the beginning of its battles equivalent to the begin­ ning of the war (Rothe 1910,186-189). The episode also introduces and characterizes Helen. She regrets coming to Troy, but can no longer feel a natural connection to her earlier life, saying that Agamemnon was her brother-in-law, “if he ever was.” Similarly, the p a t h o s of her igno­ rance about her brothers marks how isolated she is in Troy (see also I rony ). U tA G ED Y imitated the Teichoscopia for describ­ ing offstage events, notably in Euripides’ Phoenissae (88-201), and teichoscopy has remained a dramaturgical device in modern theater. RU TH SCODEL

Telamon (TeXapcov) In Homer, Telamon is the father of Ajax th e G reater and Teucer , both of whom bear the surname Telamônios. Telamon’s own lineage was not articulated in Homer. According to Pherecydes (fr. 60 Jacoby = Fowler), he was a native of Salamis , son of Aktaios and

TELEGO N Y

Glauke, daughter of Kychreus, king of Salamis. An alternative tradition, most likely generated by the Aiginetans some time prior to 600 b c e , made Telamon a native of A i g i n a , the son of A i a k o s and Endeis, and brother of P e l e u s (Pind. Nem. 5.12; Apollod. 3.12.6). The earliest source that pairs Telamon and Peleus, without calling them brothers, is a fragment of Alkmeonis (fr. 1.1 West) dated ca. 600 b c e , describing their murder of Phokos, another son of Aiakos (and Psamathe). Pherecydes (above) called Telamon a friend, not brother, of Peleus. Among the heroic deeds of Telamon, the most prominent is the participation in the First Trojan War, when in company with H e r a k l e s he sacked T r o y (Pind. Isthm. 5.35-38, 6.27-30; schol. Ap. Rhod. 1.1289), took Hesione, the daughter of the Trojan king L a o m e d o n , as booty and begat Teucer with her (Apollod. 2.6.4, 3.12.7). Telamon also participated in the Amazonomachy (Pind. Nem. 3.38-39; schol. Ap. Rhod. 1.1289; see A m a z o n s ) , appearing on vases in that context (LIMC 7, s.v., nos. 3-9.), the A r g o n a u t i c a (Ap. Rhod. 1.90-94), and perhaps the Kalydonian Boar Hunt (Hyg. Fab. 173; see K a l y d o n ). Telamon was worshipped on Aigina (Hdt. 5.80-81; Pind. Isthm. 5.30-36, Pyth. 8.99-100) and Salamis (Hdt. 8.64); a mole in the harbor of Aigina (Paus. 2.29.10) and a stone on Salamis (1.35.3) were associated with him.

841

epic come from the plot summary by Proclus (either 2nd or 5th century ce), preserved in the Library of Photius (9th century). The poem began approximately where the O d y s s e y ended, with the Suitors slain by Odysseus being buried by their kinsmen. This episode seems to overlap with Odyssey 24.415—419, yet the Archaic non-Homeric epics, as later standardized to make up a continuous Cycle, tend to avoid such repetition of material. Therefore, it could be argued that the Telegony preserves an earlier tradition, perhaps familiar to the poet of the Odyssey and even the basis for competitive emulation. If so, hearers of the Odyssey would be conscious of an implicit contrast between the figures of T elemachos and his unknown half-brother Telegonos. After sacrificing to the Nymphs, Odysseus sails to Elis to inspect his herds. He is hosted by Polyxeinos, and given a bowl on which is depicted the story o f that man’s grandfather Augeias and his dealings with Trophonios and Agamedes. The lat­ ter, well-known trickster heroes, attempted to rob Augeias by constructing a secret door in the treas­ ure house they made for him. If the Telegony related this legend, perhaps in the course of an elaborate description (cf. the ekphrasis o f the Shield of Achilles in Book 18 of the Iliad), it thereby foregrounded an important thematic connection to the character o f the Homeric Odysseus. After returning to Ithaca to perform sacri­ References and Suggested Readings Lamer RE 5 Al s.v.; Prinz 1979, 34—56; Zunker 1988, fices specified by T iresias (Od. 11.121-131), 121-132; Zimmermann NP 12.1,s.v. Odysseus visits Thesprotia on the mainland (see T hesprotians). There he marries Queen KalliIR E N E POLINSKAYA dike, and with Athene’s help leads troops against the Brygoi, who are supported by Ares. Apollo Telegony A lost poem of the Epic Cycle, attrib­ intervenes to separate the two divinities. Upon the uted by ancient sources to Eugammon o f Cyrene, death of Kallidike (in the war?), Polypoites, her son whom the chronology of Eusebius places in the by Odysseus, ascends the throne. Now the eponym mid-6th century bce. At the earliest the composi­ o f the epic, Telegonos (“born afar”) son of Odys­ tion dates from less than a century before, since seus by Kirke, raids Ithaca and kills Odysseus, Cyrene was not founded until 630 bce. As with unaware that this defender is his father, who has other poems incorporated into the Cycle, how­ returned to the island. Because the wound is from ever, the material o f the Telegony probably is as a spear tipped with a stingray’s barb, the prophecy old or older than Homeric epic. Clement (Strom. is fulfilled that death would come to Odysseus “out 6.25.1) implies this in remarking that Eugammon of the sea” (cf. the ambiguous words of Tiresias, passed off as his own work a composition by O d .ll.I34). Learning o f his error, Telegonos trans­ Musaeus, the legendary early poet. ports his father’s corpse, Penelope, and Telemachos No positively identified verses survive, although back to the island of Kirke, who buries Odysseus several paraphrases are tied to the poem (cf. frs. and makes the others immortal. She then marries 1-6 West; frs. 1-5 Bernabé). Most details o f the Telemachos, while Penelope marries Telegonos.

842

TELEGO N Y

References and Suggested Readings Martin 1993; Burgess 2001. RIC H A RD M A RTIN

Telemachos (Tr|\Épaxoç) Like many sons in Greek myth, Telemachos takes his name (“Far Fighter,” see Names 3 .1 b ) from one of his father’s salient characteristics, O d ysseus ’ famed skill as an archer. Odysseus proudly refers to himself twice in the I l i a d as the “father of Telemachos” (2.260, 4 .3 5 4 ) - the only character in the epics to identify himself by his relationship with his son and the story of the O d y s s e y is in part the tale of the son’s fulfillment of his paternal heritage. A critical consensus has emerged that in the Odyssey Telemachos grows up, although there is some disagreement on just when, in which ways, how successfully, and with what thematic signifi­ cance this maturation unfolds. Even Telemachos’ speech i n t r o d u c t i o n s parallel his development into his father’s son. As a disguised A t h e n e reveals to the wavering young man: “Few sons measure up to their fathers; more are worse, few better. But since hereafter you will be neither cowardly nor foolish - the cunning of Odysseus has not deserted you one bit - there is hope that you will accomplish your goals” (2.276-280). Telemachos must shed his “childish ways” and move from despairing adolescent to partner in his father’s return and vengeance - he is referred to as the “dear son of Odysseus” fourteen times. And one o f the major plot complications - the possibility of Penelope’s remarriage - hinges upon Telemachos’ maturation, as Odysseus had told his wife to “marry whomever you wish and leave your house" should he not return before she sees Telemachos “bearded” (18.259-270; cf. 18.175-176). Nevertheless, the exact political sta­ tus o f Telemachos as son o f a missing king with a marriageable mother remains cloudy. The opening four books of the Odyssey, com­ monly referred to (along with part of Book 15) as the Telemachy (and thought by some scholars to have originally been an independent narrative), keep the hero offstage as they introduce the epic’s audience to the situation in Ithaca and the major players in Odysseus’ past and future. Important themes are established as well: identity, hospi­ tality, justice, loyalty, the nature o f kingship, family. Moreover, the introduction to the S uitors

through the eyes of Telemachos - they are not only models of inhospitality but plot to kill the prince - helps to justify the eventual slaughter of them all. When we first meet Telemachos (1.113), Athene (disguised as M e n t e s ) arrives at the palace to find the young man sulking among the Suitors. These interlopers are feasting on Odysseus’ l i v e s t o c k , devouring the impotent Telemachos’ patrimony. Telemachos greets the stranger warmly, immediately distinguishing his morality from that of the 108 intruders. But Telemachos cannot even acknowledge with certainty that Odysseus is his father, a sign that he is reluctant to accept responsibility for acting like his father. This struggle with his identity is complicated by his lack of male models, his entrapment between wanting his father to return and needing to take his own place as head of the h o u s e h o l d , and his ambivalence about what should become of Penelope (e.g., 2.5Ü-54, 2.130-137, 19.530-534). Telemachos is encouraged by Athene to find out about his father with several disparate (and according to some, contradictory) admonitions. His burgeoning determination is marked by his self-assertion that he will at least rule his own house (1.397-398) and his (apparently first) harsh response to Penelope: when Penelope urges the bard P hem ios to sing a different song, Telemachos barks at her that speech ( m u t h o s ) will be the concern of men, and he sends her to her room. Penelope is seized with wonder and obeys (1.346-359). He displays signs of developing his father’s crafty speech by hiding from the Suitors his knowledge that he was vis­ ited by a deity and urged to become a second O restes (1.412-420). The standard e p it h e t of Telemachos is pepnumenos (43x), a word tradi­ tionally translated as “wise” or “shrewd,” but which more properly marks a man who has reached mature judgment and can make his words into actions. Telemachos must “earn” this epithet in the course of the epic. Although he summons an assem bly o f Ithacans, he is incapa­ ble o f removing the Suitors or rousing the public against them (Book 2). Athene, in the guise of M entor , must come to guide him on his journey to speak to Nestor at P ylos . His month-long journey to Pylos and S parta to glean news of his father - poorly timed in terms of events in Ithaca, as was observed by early

TELEMACHOS

commentators on the epics - forms the heart of Telemachos’ maturation. Many scholars have also noted structural and thematic parallels between Telemachos’ travels and those o f his father. Athene states clearly that the trip is a heroic enterprise, from which the young man can gain g l o r y ( k l e o s , 2.95). He begins as a diffident young man, unable even to converse with his elders (3.21-24). But through a series o f heroic models - Nestor, Menelaos, Mentor (Athene), and even his coeval Peisistratos - he begins to gain confidence as he is recognized as his father’s son. Telemachos arrives in Pylos to find Nestor presiding over a sacrifice and feast. Here is the model palace that Telemachos has been missing, with a father, son, and hospitality fully functioning. Nestor sees the likeness of Odysseus in the young man and encourages him to act valiantly, for per­ haps his father will yet return and take vengeance. Telemachos slips back into despair about such a possibility, much to Athene’s displeasure. Telemachos finally gains some detailed infor­ mation about his father from the competing tales of Menelaos and Helen at Sparta (Book 4). Again he encounters a functioning o i k o s (despite the tensions and pain evident beneath the surface), arriving the day of the double wedding of Menelaos’ daughter and son. Menelaos’ hospital­ ity is so zealous that it later becomes an issue for Telemachos when he desires to return to Ithaca. Telemachos learns of two famous (if idealized) exploits of his father at Troy, and his hosts note the strong physical resemblance to Odysseus, helping him further to identify with his father. Menelaos’ tale of Proteus suggests that Odysseus may still be alive and shows that heroes can return from Troy after many years of wandering. Telemachos disappears from the main action of the epic for eleven books, as the focus is on the return of his father. But his journey, an initia­ tion into heroic life, moves Telemachos towards manhood, as his subsequent actions reveal an increasingly Odyssean quality. In leaving Sparta, Telemachos employs a tactful negotiation of withdrawal from Menelaos (with appropriate g ifts , 15.65-159). He displays an increased inter­ est in his familial possessions and for the first time takes the lead in his own travels. His plans to avoid the palace and visit his lands are another sign of growing maturity: a concern for his prop­ erty, an avoidance of a possibly hostile reception,

843

and an opportunity to learn what has happened while away. His dealings with the suppliant T heoklymenos (15.222-286) demonstrate that he can also now take responsibility for another. The recognition-scene with Odysseus fur­ ther solidifies this maturation. Within 150 verses he is not only plotting with Odysseus but also giv­ ing him advice (16.311-320). The “illustrious son” (16.308 - the first time this phrase is applied to him) is so quickly assimilated into his father’s world that they can communicate merely by catching each other’s eye (16.476—477). Although masculine maturation in the Homeric poems is consistently portrayed as “filling the father’s shoes,” Telemachos’ arrival at adulthood is com­ plicated by the fact that his father’s attributes are so diverse, as well as by the awkwardness that he must learn to assert his own claim to manhood while also cooperating with and being subordi­ nate to his father. His sudden urge and ability to act must be tempered by obeying his father’s explicit instructions to endure (16.274-277). Thus he hides both his father’s return and his own development, all the while subtly acting as Odysseus’ champion (e.g., 17.342—491, 18.405411,19.4-50,20.257-386). Still, Telemachos’ newly forceful speech is not­ iced by his mother and the Suitors (17.57-60, 18.410-421, 19.530-532, 20.320-325), and his actions become increasingly noteworthy. When Penelope decides to choose a new husband, she announces she will marry the suitor who can string Odysseus’ bow and shoot an arrow through twelve carefully arranged axes. To the amazement of all, Telemachos sets up the axes properly, although “he had never seen them before” (21.120123). He then proves that he is his father’s son by showing that he is capable o f stringing Odysseus’ bow (21.124-130). The four attempts summarize the effort he has exerted to reach manhood. But even more significant is his quick adjustment to his father’s nod of disapproval. To the gathered Suitors he dissembles beautifully, pretending that he is still feeble (21.131-135). He is now lying to great effect, just like Odysseus (see Lies ). He has reached a mature understanding with his father and a comfortable independence from his mother, whose efforts to control the dispensation of the bow he quickly dismisses (21.344-358). Telemachos is ready to join Odysseus in action, and he plays a major role in the destruction of the

844

TELEMACHOS

Suitors. He displays his independence in his inno­ vative fashion of killing the disloyal maids (22.462-473). Although some critics have found these actions uncomfortably cruel, his mercy is also manifested in his defense of the innocent Phemios and Medon. Finally, the entire male lin­ eage is linked in the last scene of the epic when, in the battle against the families of the Suitors, Laertes proudly observes that “my son and my son’s son are contending with each other for excellence” (24.514—515). Telemachos’ post-Homeric fate focuses on his marriage. The Hesiodic Catalogue o f Women ([Hes.] fr. 221 M-W) has him married to Polykaste, a daughter of Nestor, and in one vari­ ant he even weds the Phaeacian princess Nausicaa (Hellanicus 4 F 156 Jacoby = fr. 156 Fowler). A summary of the Telegony - a twobook poem that concluded the Epic Cycle relates that Telegonos, the son of Odysseus and Kirke, comes to Ithaca in search of his father and accidentally kills him. Telegonos takes Penelope and Telemachos (along with Odysseus’ body) back to Kirke’s island, where he is married to Penelope and Telemachos to Kirke. In the climax to this strange episode, Kirke makes them all immortal. Hyginus, a Roman mythographer, con­ nects this story with Italic origins by giving Kirke and Telemachos a son, Latinus (Fab. 127; a son of Kirke and Odysseus in Hes. Th. 1013). Finally, at least one author suggested that Telemachos was the father o f Homer himself ( C o n t e s t o f H o m e r a n d H e s i o d ). In the post-classical tradition, Telemachos has lived on in relation to his parents, from Tennyson’s “well-loved,” “blameless,” and “decent” administrator to one o f the classical models for Joyce’s Stephen Dedalus (the first part o f Ulysses has been labeled the Telemachiad). See also Y o u t h . References and Suggested Readings Austin 1960; Clarke 1967, 30—44; Roisman 1994; Olson 1995,65-90; Beck 1998-1999; Heath 2005,79-118. JOHN HEATH

Telemachy The O d y s s e y 's first four books, along with part o f Book 15. Their unexpected focus not on Odysseus, but on the protago­ nist’s son, is a deliberate part of the poem’s larger

structure. Though commentators often regard it as Telemachos’ coming of age, an ancient Bildungsroman (see Education, in Homer), at least as important is how it establishes the characterizations of Penelope and the Suitors. The Suitors’ violation of hospitality before the disguised Athene (1.227-229) establishes the Telemachy as the poem’s key index of morality. Telemachos’ visits with Nestor (Book 3) and Menelaos (Book 4) not only offer thematic par­ allels with O dysseus’Wanderings, but help sug­ gest, through their depictions of more properly functional palaces, the Suitors’ perversion of pro­ per behavior in Ithaca. See also

A n a ly sts. BRUCE LOUDEN

Telemos (Tr^epoç) A cyclops, son of Eurymos, the aged seer (mantis; see Prophecy) of the Cyclopes. Telemos predicted that one day Polyphf.mos would lose his sight at the hands of Odysseus (Od. 9.508-512). Telemos the seer of the Cyclopes reemerges in Idyll 6.23 of Theocritus.

Telephos (only in the patronymic Ti]Ae4>iôr)ç, of Eurypylos [3]) Telephos was a son of Herakles and Auge, the adopted daughter of Teuthras of Mysia([Hes.I Cat.fr. 165.6-9M -W ;see Mysians). In the C y p r i a o f the Epic Cycle, according to the summary by Proclus, the Greeks initially attacked Teuthrania in Mysia, south of the Troad, mistak­ ing it for Troy; Telephos was wounded by Achilles while vigorously fighting off the invad­ ers. After the wound would not heal, Telephos fol­ lowed the advice o f an oracle and traveled to the Greeks at Argos. Healed by Achilles, in return he served as a guide for the Greeks in their second expedition to Troy (for a full account, see Apollod. Epit. 3.17-20; the Teuthranian expedition is not mentioned in the Homeric poems). In the L i t t l e I l i a d of the Epic Cycle, according to Proclus, the son of Telephos, Eurypylos (3), defended Troy and was killed by Achilles’ son Neoptolemos; Odysseus reports this to the shade of Achilles in Hades at Odyssey 11.519-522. The scene of Telephos addressing the Greeks in Euripides’ lost play Telephos was satirized by Aristophanes in the Acharnians (385—488, 496-556; cf. Thesm.

TE MPLES

466—476); the story of Telephos was also featured in a Hellenistic frieze at Pergamon, now in Berlin. JO N A TH A N S . B U R G E S S

Telepylos

see L a e s t r y g o n ia n s ; La m o s .

tem en os A temcnos in Homer is land set apart. Three times it refers to a god’s sacred precinct (its usual meaning in later Greek), but the nine other occurrences refer to a choice piece of land good for grain a g ric u ltu re , orchards, and vineyards in possession of a b a s i l e u s (there is apparent M ycenaean prec­ edent: see van Effenterre 1967). It thus is part of the wealth of a basileus' h o u seh o ld , and in six instances it need mean only that (e.g., II. 18.550, 20.391 - evidently inherited; Od. 11.185 - the sole occurrence in the plural). Three times, however, the temenos is explicitly a gift by the community in recognition of status (II. 6.194) or to reward outstanding service (9.578, 20.184; 12.313 may carry the same implication). Wheth­ er these passages represent a special usage or the word automatically implied “gift of the community” even where this was not stated, the conferring of desirable land on the basileus may give insight into the dynamics o f Homeric so c iet y . Because it involves an obligation in return, primarily for defense o f the community and leadership in other w arfare , the temenos is both medium and symbol of r e c ip r o c it y between leader and people and therefore a force for social cohesion (Donlan 1989b; see espe­ cially II. 12.310-321). Whatever the actual etymology , epic diction associates temenos with ternnein, “to cut.” But land probably was not communally owned; from what, then, was a temenos cut out: land already privately held (Finley 1957), or land still uncleared and plentiful because population was still low (Donlan 1989b)? References and Suggested Readings On temenos and Homeric and Mycenaean land-tenure, see Finley 1957; van Effenterre 1967; Richter 1968, 8-11; Hahn 1977; Donlan 1989b. w illiam g . thalmann

845

Temesa (Tepéoq) In all of Homer, Temesa appears only once, in Odyssey 1.184. The site was the target of the Taphian M en tes , who sailed there to acquire copper (see B ronze ) in exchange for iron . Temesa is located on the Tyrrhenian coast of south Italy, near modern Imbelli and Capora san Giovanni. In the historic period, Temesa, which minted its own coin, was a failed colony of the Aetolians , and later became a dependency of Kroton. An alternative possibility, known to Strabo (6.1.5), equates Temesa with Tamassos in Cy pr u s , but it is clear that both Homer and Strabo are referring to Italian Temesa, which, like Cyprus, was famous for its copper. See also M etals . References and Suggested Readings Dunbabin 1948b, 37, 162, 202-203, 223, 367-368; Vermeule 1960, 20; Maddoli 1982; Malkin 1998, 72-73; Papadopoulos 2001. JO H N K - P A P A D O P O U L O S

Temples The temple (nêos in the epics) is the cult building which was regarded as the house in which the divinity occasionally resided, and thus practically always provided with its cult image. In Homer there are only a few references to temples: the temple of At h en e at T roy (II. 6.88,275,297, 379) and at Ath en s (2.549; Od. 7.81), o f A pollo at Troy (II. 5.446, 7.83), and of certain gods in Sch eria (Od. 6.10). Homer is aware o f the sanc­ tuary o f Apollo at Delphi (P y th o : II. 2.519; Od. 11.581 and esp. 8.79-81, where he mentions the “stone threshold” [lainon oudon] o f Apollo which must refer to a temple: see Felsch 1998,221, n. 12; Rougier-Blanc 2005, 145; Luce 2010). The priest C hryses used to build temples (II. 1.39); the verb èpé co n tem p o rary poets,

acceptance. Booksellers b rou gh t th eir H om ers

so m u st have h ad w ider circu lation . B u t they were

in to conform ity w ith th e A ristarchean line-cou n t,

now largely to disappear. W hatever th e status o f

b u t did n o t b o th er to revise th e actu al wording.

“Z en odotu s’ text,” its influence o n th e subsequent

A nother approach (H aslam 1 9 9 7 ,8 4 -8 5 ) nullifies

transm ission was very slight indeed.

the paradox by putting the presence o f Aristarchus’

A ristophanes, operatin g w ith a less wayward

athetized lines and the absence o f h is readings on

base text, athetized several verses th a t had been

a par. I f proposed “readings” (w hat a scholar “writes,” as they put it) were conceived in term s o f

absent fro m Z enodotus’, an d m o re besides, and

TEXT AND TRAN SM IS SIO N m erely hypothetical am elioration o f the given

853

presum ably texts som ehow associated w ith the

text, n o t m eant to im pose themselves on it any

men in question, or inferred texts com prising

m ore than atheteses were m eant to effect e lim ina­

particular readings attested for them . T hey inter­

tion, then the readings, like the atheteses, are

estingly widen the range o f pre-A ristarchean

m ore apparatus o n the text th an interference with

variants.

it, tan tam o u n t to “it would b e better (if H om er

Also cited in the scholarly tradition is the “c o m ­

had w ritten) x . .. . ” T h e standardized text then

m o n " o r “standard” text, the k o i n e (o r k o i n a i , plu­

entity, the

ral). T his can n o t readily be equated with our

received text as recognized by Aristarchus. It is from this text th at the subsequent m anuscript

becom es an

internally consisten t

vulgate: many o f the reported k o i n e readings are discrepant. T h e n o tio n th at the k o i n e stem s from

tradition basically derives.

an A thenian city ed ition has to contend w ith the

T h e process by w hich texts in ord inary circula­

fact that it is accorded n o respect. Perhaps it is

tion were b ro u gh t w ithin the A ristarchean co n ­ tours can on ly b e guessed at. T h e stabilization

the early Ptolem aic papyri, ord inary copies, that

was rem arkably rapid. Unprecedentedly strong links betw een th e M useum and the publishing

citatio n s originate with D idym us, ordinary cop­

ind ustry are im plied; b u t b o o k prod uction , like the M useum itself, was su b ject to royal authority,

expand the range o f variants exem plified by post-

we should see as specim ens o f the fcoinê; or, if the ies o f Augustan date, in w hich case they usefully Aristarchean papyri (cf. A llen 1 9 2 4 ,2 8 2 ).

and it has b een speculated th at Ptolem y Physcon,

For the Hellenistic kingdom s o f M acedon and

who em ptied A lexandria o f its scholars and intel­

Syria, with their ow n royal libraries a t Pella and Antioch, there are only isolated snippets o f infor­

lectuals at ju st a b o u t this tim e, Aristarchus m ost p rom in en tly am o n g them , n onetheless adopted th e newly stabilized text as th e state text, prom ul­

m ation. T h e poet Aratus o f Soli has an edition (o r “correction,” diorthósís) o f the O d y s s e y reported

gating the P to lem aic H o m er against H ellenistic

for him , and is said to have been asked by Antiochus

rivals (Fin kelberg 2 0 0 6 a ). C ertain ly there m ust

for on e o f the I l i a d , “as it had been polluted by

have been institu tional intervention o f som e kind to effect such a m arked stabilization.

said to have had a personal copy o f th e poem s

(d )

O th e r tex ts.

many” (Pfeiffer 1968, 121). Earlier, Cassander is

O ne class o f sources o cca­ m ade; Alexander h im se lf had traveled w ith a

sionally cited in the scholarly trad ition is the so-

Hom er reputedly corrected by Callisthenes (Pfeiffer

called “city-texts,” presum ably ju st m anuscripts

1968, 7 1 -7 2 ) . For Pergam on, data are solid and

acquired from th e places in question. T hey are

abundant, the principal figure being the distin­

(from W est to East) the M assaliotic (M arseilles,

guished Crates of M allos, contem porary w ith

the m o st frequently cited ), the A rgolic, the Cretic,

Aristarchus (see further Pergamene School). His

th e C h ian, th e A eolic ( O d y s s e y only, significantly), the Cyprian, and the Sin opic. T h e geographical

general m ethods o f interpretation were very differ­

spread is wide. It is very interesting to have even

with the constitution o f the te x t H e quite fre­

such scanty reports o f texts from these o th er parts

quently has his text cited in th e Alexandrian schol­

o f th e world. T h e ir paucity o f individual d istinc­

arly tradition, for rebuttal by Aristarchus. Crates

tiveness is surprising; som etim es two o r m ore are

and Zenodotus o f M allos (liable to confusion with

ent, yet he too seems to have concerned him self

in agreem ent against the vulgate, there are points

the better-know n Z enodotus) are also cited for

o f co n tact w ith Z en odotu s, and a couple o f agree­

“additions” a n d “transpositions” o f verses. W hether

m en ts betw een “som e” o f th em (sp ecificity has

these were their ow n proposals or reflected actual

been erased)

texts know n at Pergam on is hard to say.

and q u o tatio n s in 4th -cen tu ry

A thenian au th o rs. T h ey are unlikely to b e very old , b u t am o n g th em there m ay b e som e inde­

Self-standing though the poem s were, there are traces o f versions that hooked up the I l i a d to its

pendence fro m th e A then ian -A lexan d rian line o f

neighbors in the Epic Cycle. O ne o f two variant

trad ition . T h ey leave little o r n o trace in the later

openings was seemingly designed to follow o n from

transm ission . A n o th er category is nam ed indi­ viduals’ texts; a m o n g th em , th e poets Antimachus

the C ypria; and the ending was spliced to the Aithiopis , in two slightly different form s, on e in a

C olophon (ca . 4 0 0 bce ) an d R hianus of C rete (latter h a lf 3rd cen tu ry). T hese were

with the O d y s s e y . How far back this goes is unclear.

of

lst-century ce papyrus. M aybe the sam e was done

854 S ee a lso

TEXT AND TRAN SM IS SIO N

Alexandrian Scholarship.

an evil accident, b ut perhaps it was ju st found boring, or too difficult. Its successful exclusion,

4.

A f t e r A r i s t a r c h u s . After ca. 150

BCE the text like the earlier elim ination o f plus-verses, runs

strayed little from the boundaries recognized by

co u n ter to the trad ition ’s general tenaciousness,

Aristarchus. A num ber o f o n e-lin e interpola ­

and is the sole ind ication o f a separate line o f

tions gradually crept in, infiltrating the tradition

transm ission. It is strange that the Catalogue’s

and in som e cases eventually perm eating it. Like

introd u ction (4 8 4 - 4 9 3 ) was retained, m aking the excision glaring.

variants, they were dissem inated by collation (tex­ tual co m p ariso n), which sim ultaneously afforded

In the Augustan era A lexandrian scholars were

protection against loss. T hey never m ake any dif­

at w ork in R om e. T h e text know n to us from the

ference to the action. T here are “concordance

post-A ristarchean Egyptian papyri seem s to have

interpolations" (verses o ccu rrin g in sim ilar

had w ide if n o t universal currency, and passed

context elsewhere in H om er), speech introduc­

w ithou t significant alteration to C onstantinople

tions , and lines added to m end defective-seem ing

and th e M iddle Ages. W h ile scriptoria will have

syntax o r to remove obscurity. T hey are exposed by uneven attestation, or, where the entire tradi­

regulated b o o k p rod uction and textual consist­ ency, there is n o sign o f regional differentiation.

tion is infected, by absence from the A ristarchean vulgate, a convenient tou chstone. T h ere is also

S ee a ls o

Scholarship, Ancient.

m uch surface variation, partly in the form o f interchange o f form u laic phrases, particles, etc., induced by the nature o f H o m eric verse and

5.

The

m e d ie v a l

t r a d itio n .

The

medieval

trad ition , a d irect i f inevitably attenuated continu­

the scribes’ drearily intim ate fam iliarity with it,

ation o f the an cien t, shares m ost o f its variety.

and partly the consequence o f m odernization o f

A ncient variants are prom iscuously distributed

form s, prosodic and m etrical easem ents (e.g.,

am ong the m anu scripts, reflecting the m ultiplicity

elided particles added to obviate hiatus), etc. (see also v a k ia l e c t i o ) . U nder such dynam ic cond i­

o f an cien t m anuscripts that variously fed into them . It would b e a m istake to th in k o f an arche­

tions trivial and m ore o r less im perceptible degen­

type, fo r either poem . And then the medieval tra­

eration over the cen turies was inevitable, and som e readings were driven o u t o f circulation .

d ition itself, even m ore than the ancient, is a very

O ther sources sup plem ent th e textual evidence

play am ong the m anuscripts ( “contam in ation ”),

“open” and dynam ic o n e, with m uch textual inter­

o f the papyri. T he H o m er L exicon o f Apollonius

and further readings im ported from the scholia.

Sophista (1st cen tu ry

ce ) som etim es preserves

T h e textual degeneration observable in the ancient

otherw ise lost readings in its l e x e i s (headw ords) and em bedded q uotations.

trad ition (e.g., elim ination o f hiatus, diffusion o f

Papyrus rolls could carry m ore than ju st on e

B u t collectively th e m edieval m anuscripts succeed

b ook, and o b en did, b ut there seem to have been

in catching p robably m ost o f the various readings

no standard groupings, and som e individual books were copied m ore th an oth ers. Each b o o k

curren t in later antiquity; less well for the O d y s s e y

was always treated as a discrete part o f th e whole, w ith its ow n alphabetical d esignation, d efining its

m u ch o f their large pool o f variants.

place in the sequence, and its ow n lin e-co u n t. T he

glossaries) fo r the I l i a d , earlier than any o f the

shift in transm ission s! m ediu m from roll to

m edieval m anuscripts o f the poem itself, and a

interpolations) is carried fu rther in the medieval.

than for the I l i a d . Papyri confirm th e antiquity o f T here is a 9th -cen tu ry set o f D -scholia (running

codex, alm ost com p lete by th e 4 th cen tu ry ce ,

10th- o r 11th-centu ry one for the O d y s s e y . Their

had no effect on th e co n stitu tio n o f the text itself.

l e x e i s , unarguably an cient, som etim es find no rep­

T h e codex could carry m ore, however, som etim es

resentation am ong the poem m anuscripts. (It is

an entire I l i a d or O d y s s e y , and scholia in the

illegitim ate to infer a single com m on source for

m argins. T h e I l i a d co n tin u ed to be copied m uch m ore th an the O d y s s e y .

th e latter.) Subsequently, the D -scholia seem to

A 3rd -cen tu ry ce codex o m its the Catalogue

S hips

have been neglected, or quarried only for their glosses , n ot for the l e x e i s themselves.

( I I . 2 .4 9 4 -8 7 7 ), as in tu rn do som e

For the I l i a d , the m utual independence o f the

m edieval manuscripts . Its loss has been called

two extant 10th -cen tu ry m anu scripts, A and D,

of

TE XTILES

855

seem s certain , even i f D o ffers little th at is unique

high p ro p o rtio n o f readings com p letely unrepre­

to itself. T h e ir co m m o n readings, good and bad

sented am o n g th e m edieval m anuscripts.

alike, will have b een shared by their respective exem plars. O th e r 10th - o r 11th -cen tu ry m anu­ scripts, actual o r recon structed, also had their own a n cien t exem plars: Y and b clearly enough,

S ee a ls o

M anuscripts .

6.

N ow .

T h an k s to h istorical an d com p ara­

and h and F to o had access to readings n o t found

tive linguistics and m ore efficien t data retrieval

elsew here; b u t the h

system s, m o d ern scholars’ knowledge o f H om eric

recension system atically

introd uced readings from th e scholia, and F used

language is in

b . T (1 0 5 9 ) has little th at is n o t shared with oth er

an cien ts’. A m ileston e was Bentley’s rediscovery

som e ways better th an the

m anu scripts, w hich does n o t necessarily m ean

o f a lost co n son an t, digamma, explaining many

that it has n o independence. A m ong som ew hat

apparent m etrical anom alies and exposing places

later m anu scripts presenting a n cien t readings

where they had been elim inated in the trad ition .

uniquely, from whatever source, are R, W (b o th

T h e text con tin u es to be in flux, ow ing to edi­

12th cen tu ry ), V + H (1 3 th century, significantly bolstered by papyrus agreem ents). Several o f

tors’ differing prem isses, aspirations, and ju d g­ m ents. H . van T h ie l’s editions o f O d y s s e y and

these m anu scripts (D , T, R, [W before loss?], G )

I l i a d (1 9 9 1 , 1 996) assign exclusive authority to

lack the C atalogue o f Ships, co ntinu in g a tradi­

the m edieval vulgate, discoun tin g the papyri and

tion at least as early as the 3rd century

In the

divergent an cien t readings. M . L. West’s I l i a d

Palaeologan revival o f the 13th—14th centuries, probably

(1 9 9 8 - 2 0 0 0 ) aim s at restoring the origin al p oet’s final text, taking in to acco u n t all com p onen ts o f

acquired; the m ost suggestive ind ication is the

the trad itio n in h istorical context. G. Nagy p ro­

fu rth er

an cien t

m anuscripts

were

ce.

copying o f a uniquely rich strain o f exegetical

poses a “m u ltitext” edition which would n o t priv­

scholia on I l i a d 21 in G, scholia m iraculously

ilege any particu lar reading over another. O ne

m atched by a 2n d -cen tu ry papyrus com m entary

could im agine a virtual 3 -D ed ition displaying

on th e sam e b ook. Subsequently, copies prolifer­

the syn ch ron ic variance and diach ron ic vicissi­

ate, th eir texts eclectic.

tudes o f th e text. B u t the gross defectiveness and

T h e O d y s s e y trad itio n is m uch poorer. B u t the

unevenness o f o u r available data have to be reck­

three earliest extan t m anu scripts, G (1 0 th cen ­

oned w ith; and o f course th e data would still need

tu ry), F (1 2 th ? ), and P (1 2 0 1 ), evidently derive

the analysis an d evaluation th at a conventional

each from a d ifferent a n cien t exem plar. T h ere­

edition im p licitly i f inadequately provides.

after, as with the I l i a d , relationships blur, b ut sev­ eral o f the dozen o r so 13th- o r early 14th-century

S ee a lso

Editions .

m anuscripts have m anifestly inherited readings not in th e earlier ones. Papyrus evidence is valua­

R e fe r e n c e s a n d S u g g e s te d R e a d in g s

ble here: it secures an im portan t plac^ for the 14th-

The I li a d transmission is discussed by M. L West 2001, 3-157 (tendentious but expert), and by fanko 1992, 20-37; the O d y s s ey by S. West 1988, 33—48. Nagy presents his evolutionary model in Nagy 2003, 2004, and many earlier publications. Pasquali 1952,201-247, is still instructive. See also Davison 1962a; Friis Johansen 1967 with Lowenstam 2008; Haslam 1997; Skafte Jensen 1999; Pelliccia 2003; Kelly 2007a.

century U, for exam ple. Som e m anuscripts register variant readings and explicidy attest collation with a second exemplar. M any o f the Renaissance m an­ uscripts have close conn ection s with one o r other o f the early ones. Several attractive and som e irre­ sistible readings first appear in the 15th century, w hether inherited o r conjectured. Alexandrian

M IC H A E L H A S L A M

readings, especially Aristarchean, appear in higher p ro p o rtio n s and less unevenly distributed am ong the O d y s s e y m anu scrip ts th an the I l i a d ones; here too, sin ce such readings a r e m ostly absent from

Textiles

the papyri, th ey will b e in filtrators fro m th e

m en tion ed w ith regularity in th e H om eric epics.

scholia. T h e im p overishm en t o f th e O d y s s e y ’s

Textiles fu n ctio n as sym bols o f an elite lifestyle, o f

Textiles an d cloth

m anu factu re are

m edieval tra d itio n is illustrated by a 2 n d -cen tu ry

household (an d palace) econ om ics, and provide

ce co m m en ta ry o n B o o k 2 0 , which proffers a

evidence o f a rich gender ideology.

856

TEXTILES

A long and co m p lex process was required to

Od. 1 5 .1 0 5 -1 0 7 , 1 8.293). T h e two huge purple

create every single garm en t and textile in the

p e p b i crafted in T roy by Helen and Andromache

H o m eric w orld, w hether basic o r luxurious,

are worked with elaborate designs o f battle-scenes

h om e-p rod u ced fo r dom estic co nsu m p tio n o r

and talism anic roses (//. 3 .1 2 5 -1 2 8 , 2 2 .4 4 0 -4 4 1 ),

fo r m arket sale o r gift-E X C H A N G E . Raw m aterial

probably m uch in the m ann er that the great tap­

o f p lan t fib er (flax fo r lin en ) o r w ool first had to

estry p e p l o s o f Athene was created in the later

b e acquired th ro u gh farm in g, gathering, o r trade,

C lassical period at Athens. H ere we know that a

then undergo b a sic p rocessing b efore b ein g felted

group o f a dozen young w om en worked in rota­

or, m ore com m only, carded, then spun by hand.

tio n to create an elaborate tapestry textile to be

T h e resulting w ool o r flax yarn m igh t b e dyed at

placed o n the goddess’ cu lt statue; it took them no

this stage o r woven — in its natural c o lo r — into a

less th an nine m on th s to com plete the robe (V ickers 1999; B arber 1991, 3 5 3 -3 8 2 ; Dillon

variety o f fabric types, creating alm ost any desired effect, fro m extrem e fineness and transparency to

2 0 0 2 , 5 7 -5 8 ) . Figurative textiles were therefore

ribbed , stretched, heavy, o r th ick textiles. T h e m ost co m m o n m aterial was sheep’s wool,

clearly a hallm ark o f great wealth, and the wear­

woven and dyed into a variety o f qualities and colors. H om er gives o n ly a few ind ications o f the

high social rank. A particularly interesting facet o f Hom eric

ing o f patterned cloth was a clear indication o f

physical n ature o f textiles and o n ly ever shows the

textile-w ork is the perfum ing, oiling, and “polish­

creation o f w oolen clo th ( I I . 3 .3 8 7 -3 8 8 , 1 2 .4 3 3 -

ing” o f cloth, for H om er frequently describes tex­

4 3 8 ; Od. 4 .1 3 5 , 1 8 .316, 2 2 , 2 2 .4 2 3 ). Linen, how ­

tiles as l i p a r o s ( “sh inin g”): O dysseus’ shiny tunic ( k h i t ô n ) , fo r exam ple, is said to be as soft as onion

ever, was the n ext m o st co m m o n m aterial, and, although m uch m ore difficu lt to dye than w ool, it bleaches well and its natural shine could be

skin and as bright as the sun ( O d . 1 9 .2 3 2 -2 3 5 ). A study o f the H om eric references to shining cloth

in early Greece and H o m er probably refers to

reveals th at fem ale veils, and the k r ê d e m n o n in p articu lar (see Dress ), are m ost closely associ­

h igh-quality linen when he records p e p l o i as lis (sm o o th cloth; I I . 1 8 .3 5 2 -3 5 3 ; O d . 1 .1 3 0 ) and

d e m n o s by far outw eighs any oth er reference to

o t h o n ê (fin e cloth ; 3 .1 4 1 , 1 8 .5 9 5 ), although the

sh inin g clothes ( I I . 18.382; Od. 1.334, 13.388,

enhanced by “polishing.” Linen was a luxu ry item

ated w ith the word l i p a r o s : th e epithet l i p a r o k r ê -

process o f linen m anu factu re is n o t alluded to in

1 6 .416, 18.210, 2 1 .6 5 ; H y m n . C e r . 25, 438, 459).

the poem s p e r s e . T h e length o f tim e n eeded to

T h e m en tion o f these “polished” garm ents might be linked to the Mycenaean industry o f perfum ­

spin and weave the flax n o d ou b t added to the value o f linen, and it has been estim ated th at the

ing fabric. T hrough a boilin g process, linen and

creation o f a plain linen p e p b s could take 150 w orking days, as com p ared to three w orking days

w ool could be im bued w ith sweet-sm elling perfum es that would sim ultaneously m ake cloth

to weave a sh o rt w oolen cloak (van W ees 200 5 a ,

fragran t

4 6 ). T h is can explain why a w ell-w orked linen shroud, perhaps woven w ith figurative designs

dem on strate th at o il was clearly used in the cloth­

and

shiny.

Two

H om eric

passages

m akin g process: the slave w om en in the palace o f

(see below ), m igh t take Penelope th ree years to

King Alkinoos are described a t their loom s

com p lete (2 .1 0 6 —109, 2 4 .1 4 1 -1 4 5 ).

weaving d o th saturated w ith soft olive oil (Od.

O n ce taken from the w arp-w eighted loom ,

7 .1 0 7 ), w hile o n the S hield of Achilles , danc­

these fabrics m ig h t b e dyed o r em broid ered and

ing youths wear garm ents infused with perfum ed

would also be finished b y fulling - to rem ove the

o il ( I I . 1 8 .5 9 5 -5 9 6 ). T h a t it was an expensive

grease from w ool an d to raise th e nap; H om er

trea tm en t there is n o d ou b t, w hich im plies that

several tim es m en tio n s w oolen cloaks as having a

th e shining fabrics fou nd in th e H om eric poems

“curly” nap ( I I . 2 4 .6 4 6 ; O d .4 .4 9 - 5 0 ,2 2 9 ) .W orking

are there to highlight the prim e social status o f

patterned cloth , however, was p articu larly tim e

H o m er’s n oblem en and w om en (Shelm erdine

co n su m in g an d expensive, yet em broid ered o r

1995; Llew ellyn-Jones 2 0 0 3 ,2 8 8 -2 9 3 ).

tapestry-w oven textiles are frequently m entioned

T h e various stages o f textile prod uction were

by H o m er: th ey are “m u ltico lo red ” o r “well-

always regarded as w om en’s w ork and in the epics

w orked” o r “w ell-p attern ed ” ( p o i k i b s suffices for

w om en

all o f th ese categories; I I . 5 .7 3 5 ,6 .2 8 9 ,2 9 4 ,1 4 .1 7 9 ;

w orking cloth (see B arb er 1991; Cleland et al.

from all classes are routinely shown

TH E A 6 E N E S OF RHEGIUM

857

2 0 0 8 ). D om estic cloth prod uction was a staple o f

im ply th at enem ies o f H erakles are n o t co m m em ­

the household economy: all the textiles belo n g­

orated. O th er sources give his father as P hil-

ing to King A lkinoos, for instance, were m ade by

a m m o n , a son o f Apollo and an early v icto r in

his w ife and h er m aids (O d. 6 .7 4 ,7 .1 0 5 - 1 1 1 ,2 3 4 -

song at Delphi (sch ol. A 2.5 9 5 and Paus. 10.7.2)

2 3 5 ; oddly, Nausicaa does n o t appear w orking

and h is m o th er as th e nymph Argiope (Paus. 4 .3 3 .

clo th ), and som e households em ployed w om en as

and A pollod. 1.16, w here T ham yris is also said to

day-laborers to work a t th e loom s ( I I . 1 2 .4 3 3 -

have b een the first p ederast). A ccording to the lost

4 3 5 ), and slaves specializing in th e creation o f

epic M i n y a s (frs. 3 and 4 Bern abé = W est), h e was

luxu ry textiles are also attested, such as the Sidonian slavewom en in Priam’s palace (6 .2 8 9 -

punished

292; see Sidon ). A wom an’s prestige an d reputa­

show ed T ham yris blind and w ith a broken lyre

in Hades . Polygnotus’ painting at

D elphi o f O dysseus’ visit to the Underworld

tion were endorsed by h er skill at th e lo o m , and it

(Paus. 1 0 .3 0 .8). T h am yris’ “m aim ing” was often

is n o coincidence th at alm ost every m en tio n o f a p e p b s in H om er is augm ented w ith a reference to

defined as blindness, in, fo r exam ple, th e R h e s o s

its

7 3 4 -7 3 6 ,

debated (schol. A 2.599a, attributed to Ar i -

6 .2 8 9 -2 9 5 , 8 .8 8 5 -8 8 7 , 1 4 .1 7 8 -1 8 0 , 2 2 .4 4 0 -4 4 1 ; Od. 1 5 .1 0 5 -1 0 8 ). W ith th e high value placed o n

o th e r versions: in th e R h e s o s i t takes place o n M t.

creator

(3 .1 2 5 -1 2 8 ,

5 .3 3 7 -3 3 9 ,

o f Ps.-Euripides (9 1 5 —9 2 5 ), though this was stonicus ). T h e con test’s location differed in

woven cloth , n o t surprisingly textiles form a sta­

Pangaion in eastern M acedon ia, in the H esiodic

ple o f elite gift exchange. H elen gifts Telemachos

C a ta b g u e

a p e p b s o f h er ow n crafting w ith the in stru ctio n

T hessaly ([H es.] fr. 6 5 M -W ; there was also

of

W om en

in th e D otian plain in

th at it m u st fo rm part o f th e w edding trousseau

debate ab o u t the lo catio n o f H om er’s O ichalia:

o f his future w ife (1 5 .1 3 0 ; van Wees 2 0 0 5 a ).

schol. A 2 .5 9 6 ). T ham yris appears in Classical vase-painting and was the su b ject o f a Soph oclean

S ee a lso

Women .

tragedy. LLO YD L L E W E L L Y N - J O N E S

S e e a l s o M u s ic . RU TH SC O D EL

Thalpios (© óX m oç)

Achaean, son o f Eurytos

(2 ), Thalpios is on e o f th e fo u r leaders o f the

Epeians in the Catalogue op Sh ips ; he and his cousin Amphimachos (1 ) are also introd uced as “A ktorione,” i.e., “two grandsons o f Aktor ( 1 ) (II.

Thanatos (© á v a ro ç ; “death”) Personification o f death, som etim es a god w ho delivers death,

2 .6 2 0 -6 2 1 ).

T han ato s

although there was n o cult o f T han atos. In H om er, is

consistently

represented

as

the

b ro th er o f Hypnos (Sleep) ( I I . 14.231, 16.672, S ee a lso

Aktorione (2).

6 8 2 ). In H esiod ’s T h e o g o n y (2 1 2 -2 1 3 , 7 5 6 -7 5 9 ) , b o th T han atos and H ypnos are said to b e sons o f

R e fe r e n c e s a n d S u g g e s te d R e a d in g s

Kirk 1985,219-220.

Nyx (N ight) and E rebos . Pausanias saw th e stat­ ues o f T han atos and H ypnos in Sparta (Paus. 3 .1 8 .1 ).

Tham yris (© áp upiO

T h e I liad only once m en ­

tion s T ham yris, a legendary singer from T hrace

Theagenes o f Rhegium

(see T hracians). T ham yris boasted th at he could

erences to T heagenes o f Rhegium m ake the fol­

T h e scanty and late ref­

defeat the Muses in a son g-con test, and in anger

low ing claim s: th at he was am ong the first to write

they m aim ed h im and deprived h im o f his sing­ ing and LYRE-playing ( I I . 2 .5 9 4 -6 0 0 ). T h is is

he did so in the 520s bce (Tatianus A d G r . 3 1 );

about the date and genealogy o f H om er, and that

H o m er’s only reference to bard ic competition .

that he stood at the beginning o f the tradition o f

T h e M uses m et T ham yris at Dorion in Pylos as

Greek gram m ar ( g r a m m a t i k ê ) , brought to co m ­

he cam e from Eurytos’ (1) house in O ichalia .

pletion by Aristotle and the Peripatetics (schol.

Since H erakles later destroyed O ichalia and also

D ion. T h ra x p. 164.23 H ilgard.); that he was the

killed Nestor’s brothers in Pylos, the story m ay

first to w rite a b ou t H om er and was the founder o f

858

THEAGEN ES OF RHEGIUM

the trad ition o f “physical” allegory (co m m o n ly

hands o f his son , Telegonos. T h e T heban epics,

pretations) in ord er to defend such passages as

like those in the larger Cycle, in term ix stories o f

to

the

Stoa;

Stoic

b irth o f the cosm os to O dysseus’ death at the

I nter­

attrib u ted

see

the H o m eric T h eomachy, an d perhaps o f “m o ral”

fam ilial strife with m ilitary conflict, in this case

allegory as well (sch o l.B Horn. I1.Y 67= Porphyry ?).

those concernin g O edipus an d his children and

Elsewhere, the H om eric scholia cite h im fo r a

tw o Argive exp edition s against T hebes .

single variant reading (see

v a r ia l e c t i o

),

and the

S u d a lists him as having w ritten on H om er.

T h e O i d i p o d e i a (6 ,6 0 0 verses) narrates the story o f O edipus’ victory over th e Sph in x, his

W h at m akes T heagenes interestin g is th at m ul­

killing o f his father, and m arriage to his mother.

tiple authorities place h im a t th e beginnings

T h e sole surviving fragm en t describes “the m ost

either o f H om er criticism , o f allegory, o r o f the

beautiful and desirous o f all / the dear son of

study o f language and style as a whole. Also

blam eless Kreon, divine H aim on,” falling victim

intriguing is his association with 6 th -cen tu ry

to the Sphinx (fr. I B e rn a b é = W est). In Sophocles’

Rhegium in M agna G raecia, which has led to

re-envisioning

specu lation that he was influenced by Pythagoreanism . X enophanes of Colophon, o f whose

H aim on com m its suicide after Antigone has hanged herself.

of

this

m yth

(cf.

A n tig o n e),

w riting about H om er we have far b etter evidence,

In the T h e b a i d (7 ,0 0 0 verses), O edipus twice

seem s to have b een nearby in Sicily at roughly the tim e T heagenes m ust have been w riting. Scholarly

curses his sons, Eteoklf.s and Polyneikes, lead­ ing to one son killing the other. An initial curse

consensus tends to credit the evidence that

com es after Polyneikes invited his father to drink

T heagenes was a gram m arian (g r a m m a t i c u s ), but

from Kadmos’ ancestral cup; the second curse, viewed by an an cien t co m m en tato r as “m ean and

his title to the “invention” o f allegory, though m uch discussed, has been widely doubted.

thoroughly ign ob le” (fr. 3 Bern abé = W est), comes after his sons place before him an inferior cut o f

S ee a lso

Allegorical Interpretation .

sacrificial m eat. T h e m u ch -striv ing Polyneikes w anders from T heb es to Argos, w here he en cou n ­

R e fe r e n c e s a n d S u g g e s te d R e a d in g s

ters Tydeus (in exile). T h ere they wrestle like

T e s tim o n ia : D-K no. 8.

beasts, prom pting Adrastos (1), king o f Argos, R O BERT LAM BERTON

to m arry them to h is daughters and, o n Polyneikes’ behalf, to lead an exp ed ition o f seven leaders against T hebes. Five o f th em die at Thebes,

Theano (Oeavto)

Daughter o f Kisses , king o f

T hrace (see T hracians), wife o f Antenor, on e o f the forem ost Trojan n obles.T he priestessof Athene, Theano leads the procession o f T rojan wom en to supplicate the goddess, opens the doors o f the tem ­ ple, places a robe ( p e p l o s , see

Textiles) o n th e lap

o f the statue o f Athene, and prays for her assistance (see Prayer), b u t Athene turns away h er head (//. 6 .2 9 8 -3 1 1 ). She pleases her husband by treating his illegitimate son Pedaios as h er ow n (5 .7 0 ). H er son

Iphidamas is raised by h er father (1 1 .2 2 4 ). T heano continued to be a popular nam e fo r priestesses into the Classical period (B . Nagy 1979). D E B O R A H LYO N S

includ ing Tydeus w ho (w hile dying) eats o u t the brain s o f th e m an w ho slew him . T h e seer

Amphiaraos survives th e battle but, as h e fore­ saw, n o t the day, w hen th e earth swallows up him and his chariot after the battle. O n ly Adrastos survives, rescued by his horse A rion , sired by

Poseidon , given to Kopreus, king o f Haliartos, th en to Herakles w ho gave it to Adrastos. In the E p i g o n i ( “A fter-B orn ,” 7 ,0 0 0 verses), the son s o f the Seven succeed in subduing Thebes. T h e poem ’s op en in g line, “now in tu rn , M uses , let us begin o u r son g o f younger m en [o r m en o f th e n ext g en eratio n ]” (fr. 1 B ern ab é = W est), shows th at it was inten d ed as a sequel, b u t w hether to th e T h e b a i d we c a n n o t say. In th eir captu re o f T heb es, the Epigoni seize T iresias ’ daughter, M an to, and dedicate h er to D elphi, w here she

T heban Cycle

T h e T h eb an Cycle refers to three

m arries and eventually b ecom es priestess o f

epics, covering a span o f three generation s, w ithin

A pollo’s sanctuary a t C laros in Asia M in o r (cf.

a larger E p ic Cycle ch ro n iclin g events fro m the

[H es.] fr.2 7 8 M -W = fr. 2 1 4 M o st). T h e A l k m e o n i s

T H E BES , BOEOTIAN

(of uncertain length) is sometimes included in the cycle, expanding it to four generations, nar­ rating Alkmaon’s (1) slaying of his mother, Epiphyle , for her role in the death of his father Amphiaraos. None o f these poem s are ascribed to T h eb an singers. T he O i d i p o d e i a

is attributed, for an

8 59

early c o m p o sitio n . In th e n u m b er seven for Argive w arrio rs and T h e b a n gates, W alter Burkert (1 9 8 1 ) id en tifies A kkadian m agical m otifs, en ter­ ing G reece in th e 8 th cen tu ry (see Near E ast and

Homer ). R eferen ce to T h eb es as Hypo Catalogue of

thebes (U n d e r-T h eb es) in th e

Sh ips

( I I . 2 .5 0 5 ) b e st d escribes an acropolis in

unknow n reason, to C in aeth on o f Lacedaem on.

ru in s after th e E p i g o n i , b u t its ep ith et, “ the well-

Beginning w ith the 6th -cen tu ry poet C allinus, m any in antiquity attribute the T h e b a i d to H om er

b u ilt citadel,” seem s in co n g ru o u s w ith a plun­ dered city. Scen es in the T h e b a i d , like A rion’s

(including Pausanias, 9 .9 .5 , who consid ers it the

rescue o f A drastos, m ay have inspired H om eric

best o f the Cycle after the Iliad and O dyssey).

tales, su ch as th e in ab ility o f Achilles ’ horses to

Argos” (fr. 1 Bernabé = W est), som e suspect that

Stylistically, th e o ccasio n al density o f epithets ,

it had a pro-Argive bias. M any in an tiq uity ques­

as in n in e ep ith ets m od ify in g five n ou n s in four verses (fr. 2 .1 —4 B e rn ab é = W est), is unparalleled

tioned w hether the E p i g o n i was by H o m er (cf. Hdt.

4.3 2 ;

Certamen 2 6 5 ff.). A late source

attributes it to Antim achus o f Teos (C lem . S t r o m . 6 .1 2 .7 ). No author is attested for t h e A l k m e o n i s . H om er and Hesiod exh ib it extensive know l­

save

h im

(o r

Patroklos) from

Because the poem begins with reference t o “thirsty

death.

in H om er. Stories from all phases o f th e T h eb an epics were popu lar in A rchaic vase-paintings, Stesi-

edge o f T heban legend. B oth take it fo r granted

chorus’ choral lyrics, and A ttic t r a g e d y : see Aes­ chylus’ S e v e n A g a i n s t T h e b e s (p art o f an Oedipus

that Kadm os was the city’s fou nd er (w ithout

trilog y), Soph ocles’ m any plays ab ou t O edipus,

m entioning his Phoenician o rigin ) an d d escribe

Euripides’ S u p p l i a n t W o m e n and P h o e n i s s a e , and

Semele as giving birth to D ionysos. T h ey also know o f Tiresias, identify Amphion and Zethos

period th e im p o rtan ce o f th ese epics is restricted

as the builders o f T hebes’ city walls, and allude

to scholars and learned readers. A m ere ten frag­

titles fro m a n u m b er o f lost plays. By the Hellenistic

frequently to Herakles. From the Cycle itself, th e

m ents, totalin g tw enty-seven verses, survive, a

stories they m ost tell co n cern O ed ipus and

testam en t perhaps to H o m er and H esiod’s predo­

Diomedes, son o f Tydeus and Argeia (A drastos’

m inan ce a t th e expense o f w hat m u st generally

daughter) and o n e o f the Epigoni.

have been deem ed in ferio r lights.

Like the O i d i p o d e i a , H esiod records th at the Sp h in x (called Phix) “begot baneful devastation

R e fe r e n c e s a n d S u g g e s te d R e a d in g s

for the Kadm eians” ( T h . 3 2 6 ). In H om er, O edipus’

T ex ts : Bernabé; Davies, E G F ; West. G e n e r a l: Severyns

wife is nam ed E pikaste, though th e O i d i p o d e i a

1928; Kullmann 1960; Huxley 1969; Burkert 1981; Vermeule 1987; Davies 1989a; Gantz 1993, vol. 2 ,4 9 0 528; Torres-Guerra 1995; L I M C passim.

identifies Euryganeia as the m o th er o f his ch il­ dren. As in th e T h e b a i d , the I l i a d alludes frequently to th e twin Argive attacks against T h eb es, p rin ci­

ST E P H E N SC U LLY

pally as they pertain to D iom edes. H o m er says n oth ing o f Tydeus’ savagery, b u t a recu rrin g ques­ tion in the I l i a d is w hether D iom ed es is a lesser

Thebes (© fjß a i o r ©f|ßq), Boeotian

(4 .3 6 5 -4 0 0 , 5 .8 0 1 -8 0 8 ) o r greater (4 .4 0 5 -4 1 0 )

T heb es is referred to as a “seven-gated” ( I I . 4.406;

B oeotian

w arrior than his father. H esiod identifies the Age

O d . 11 .2 6 3 ) and “fair-crow ned” ( I I . 19.99) city in

o f H eroes w ith heroes w ho died fighting a t Thebes

th e epics; found ed b y Zeus’ tw in sons Amphion

and T roy (cf. Op. 1 5 6 -1 6 5 ; see Heroic Age ). T h e se stories a b o u t T h eb es date to th e G reek

(1 ) and Zethos (O d . 1 1 .2 6 2 -2 6 5 ). A parallel, pos­ sibly later, trad itio n credits Kadmos, brother o f

Bronze Age; scholars, however, debate w hether

Europa, w ith th e fou nd ing o f th e city. W hile the

the poem s o rigin ated in th e Mycenaean period ,

Kadm eians are m en tion ed in th e H om eric poem s

as E m ily V erm eule (1 9 8 7 ) argues, o r a t a later

( I I . 4 .3 8 5 , 3 8 8 , an d 3 9 1 , 5 .8 0 4 and 807, 10.288,

date. M orphologically, o n ly th e ph rase eÔkto Aii

2 3 .6 8 0 ; Od. 1 1 .2 7 6 ), th eir P hoenician progenitor

( T h e b a i d fr. 3.3 Bern abé = W est), w ith its ath e-

Kadm os is on ly referred to in passing as father o f

m atic e u k h o m a i and lo ng dative singular, suggests

I no (5 .3 3 3 ) an d n o t as a fou nd ing hero.

860

THEBES, BOEOTIAN

T h e illustrious site o f T hebes, celebrated in the epics and the tragic works, attracted a steady

T h e Late Bronze Age settlem ent o f Thebes (L inear B t e - q a - i ) was confined w ithin the citadel

stream o f early travelers, m ostly in the 19th cen ­

and

tury. System atic exp loration o f th e pear-shaped

1 1 .2 6 5), covering at least 32 ha, i.e., was larger than th e citadel o f Gla and T iryns and com para­

citadel (K adm eia) and the vicinity was pursued

was indeed “spacious” ( e u r u k h o r o s

O d.

from the early 20th cen tury and continu es today

ble in size only to the w ider town o f Mycenae.

under the direction o f the G reek Archaeological

T he size o f the site and the quality and quantity o f

Service in the fo rm o f rescue excavations. T h e settlem en t o n th e Kadm eia itse lf dates

ern im ports such as the fam ous cache o f lapis-

fro m the Early Bronze Age. T h e Early B ronze Age

lazuli cylinder seals (Porada 1981), dem onstrate

settlem en t covers at least 14 ha, b u t does n ot

th at T hebes was a to p -tier palatial center at least

show a co h eren t plan o r any evidence o f fo rtifi­ catio n . Two large buildings, on e o f which was o f

as powerful as M ycenae. Its sphere o f influence extended into southern Euboea, and conceivably

the “C o rrid o r H ou se” type, are individually dem arcated by walls. N um erous houses, showing

beyond: T hebes’ candidacy as the leading power o f Ahhiyawa in th e H ittite docum ents has been

b o th straigh t-sid ed and apsidal plans, and their

put forth on the grounds o f the Tawagalawa

the finds, which include impressive Near East­

furnishings and fixtures testify to th e relatively

(E teo d es?) letter and apparent references to

high living standards o f Early B ronze Age T hebes.

M iletos and oth er Anatolian places in the T h eb an Linear B d ocum ents (e.g., Niem eier

M o rtu ary finds are rare, b u t there is an unusual mass grave covered by a m u d b rick tum ulus o r

1999, 144; Jasink 20 0 5 , 212, 220 n. 18), although

terrace (A ravan tin os 2 0 0 4 ). T h e so -called tu m u ­

the evidence rem ains circum stantial.

lus o f A m p h ion to the n o rth o f the citadel

T h e citadel encom passed buildings involved

(Spyropoulos 1 9 8 1 ), w hich has b een inaccurately interpreted as an Egyptianizing pyram id, is a

in palatial activities (L inear B d ocu m en t depos­ its,

m ud brick m o u n d dating to th e sam e period,

Touloupa 1964; Sym eonoglou 1973; Spyropoulos

workshops,

storeroom s;

see

P laton

and

although th e large cist at its cen ter is likely later

and Chadw ick 1975; Piteros et al. 1990; D akouri-

(see below ). Artefacts o f gold, silver , and ivory, and vessels o f C ycladic and T road ic style

H ild 2 0 0 1 ; A ravantinos et al. 2 0 0 1 ,2 0 0 5 ; Andrikou

( d e p a s a m p h i k u p e l l o n ) fro m d o m estic contexts

w all-paintings, and ord inary houses. A rchaeo­

suggest trade an d cu ltu ral ties w ith th e broad er Aegean am b it.

logical finds and epigraphic docum ents com ­

T h e M id d le B ro n z e Age and e a rly L ate B ronze

activities, in d u d in g elite ban qu etin g (cf. fl. 4.386;

Age se ttle m e n t o n th e K a d m eia is ca. 2 0 h a in size, a n d see m in g ly u n fo rtifie d . H o u ses reveal

o f precious artefacts such as jew elry and finely

et al. 2 0 0 6 ), elite houses decorated w ith pictorial

bined

illum inate

eco n o m ic

and

cerem onial

see Feasting ) an d th e prod uction and hoarding

b o th stra ig h t-sid e d a n d apsid al p la n s, an d deep

inlaid furniture pieces. W h ile several buildings

fo u n d a tio n s th a t re a ch ea rlie r levels. A n early megaron a t th e c e n te r o f th e K a d m eia stand s

o n the Kadm eia are ind u b itab ly palatial, judging fro m th e finds, a palace w ith c o u rt and m egaron

o u t by v irtu e o f its large size, regu lar p lan ,

suite has n o t yet com e to light. In general, the pal­

an d lo ca tio n n e a r th e “T reasu ry R o o m ” o f the

ace has em erged th rou gh excavations as a chron ­

later Mycenaean era . G raves fo rm d o m estic

ologically

c em ete ries b etw een o r u n d e r h o u ses. A large

trad ition al “old” an d “new ” palaces, whose fire-

m ore

com p lex

en tity

th an

the

c ist grave o n th e A m p h eio n tu m u lu s likely

destructions have b een related respectively to the

d ates to th e tr a n s itio n o f th e M id d le to Late

appearance o f Zeus to S emele and th e sack o f

B ro n z e Age an d , a lo n g w ith th re e o th e r large

T heb es b y the E p igoni (see T heban Cycle). T he

graves o n th e K ad m eia, re flects th e p ro n o u n ced

evidence fo r an early d estru ction o f T heb es in the

in v estm en t a n d in c re a sin g m o n u m e n ta liz a tio n

late 14th to early 13th cen turies, cited by som e as

in th e m o rtu a ry sp h ere d u rin g th e S h a ft Grave

validation o f th e legend o f the Seven Against

era. S o m e o f th ese graves a re a sso cia ted w ith

T heb es (cf. I I. 4 .3 7 8 ) and th e destruction o f the

bronze weapons (spearheads, daggers, swords),

city by the Epigoni b efore th e T rojan War, is

b o a r’s -tu sk h e lm e t re m a in s, an d a horse sa cri­

only a partial reflection o f the archaeological

fice ( c f .f i . 2 3 .1 7 1 ).

record. Fire horizons are dated to the 14th -1 3 th

THEBES, CI LI CI AN

861

cen tury tran sitio n , as well as the later 13th- and

Sym eonoglou 1985, 2 2 7 ). Takhi (an cien t P otniai)

the 13th—12th cen tury transitio n, w hile there is

to the south o f Thebes has also produced evi­ dence o f P rotogeom etric habitation.

also evidence o f possible earthquake dam age in the last two phases. T h e archaeological evidence

Finds dating to the 9th and 8th centuries are

also substantiates the endu ring prosperity o f

rare and com e from cem eteries to the northeast

T hebes until the collapse o f the M ycenaean pala­

and northw est o f the citadel. T he later part o f the

tial system in th e early 12th cen tury bce , which

8th century, a period in whiçh Thebes appears to

contrasts sharply w ith th e absence o f the p rin ci­

have been a m ajor center in the production o f

pal city o f T heb es from th e B oeotian contingent o f the Catalogue of S hips (II. 2.494-510; see

bell-shaped terracotta figurines and bronze fibu­

Hypothebes ).

lae, is better represented in the archaeological record, especially

in

shrines and

cem eteries.

Segm ents o f the “holy” fo rtificatio n wall o f

G eometric pottery with building debris has been

Thebes ( I I . 4 .3 7 8 ), the co n stru ction o f w hich is

found at the site o f the later Temple o f Apollo

attributed to A m ph ion and Zethos (above), have com e to light along th e southeast, east, and north

in fills o f other later shrines (K eram opoullos 1917,

Ism enios. Sherds dating to this era are also reported

slopes (e.g., A ravantinos 1988, w ith references;

2 6 1 -2 6 6 ), including a recently excavated one near

2 0 0 5 ). Som e o f these segm ents, at least, appear to

the Elektrai gates (W hitley 2005) that appears to

have been b u ilt in the 1 4 th -1 3 th cen tury transi­ tional period. T h ere is n o firm evidence regarding

be connected to the cult o f T heb es-b orn Herakles (cf. II. 1 9 .9 8 -9 9 ). A bothros pit at Pyri to the

the gates at present, although they are suspected at som e o f the above sites. Fu nerary assem blages

northw est o f Thebes was found to contain pottery,

are plentiful and m ostly derive from cham ber

bronze artefacts, clay pom egranates, and a bell­ shaped figurine, and could suggest the existence o f

tom b cem eteries to the east, southeast, and south

a shrine (K ountouri 2 0 0 4 ). Funerary assemblages

o f the Kadm eia (K astellia, Ism en io n , K olonaki).

in the sam e area and at Takhi represent a variety o f

T hese tom bs vary in size and shape, and include

to m b types (pithos burials, pits w ith stone m ark­

installations such as ben ches, plastered w ooden

ers, a stone larnax burial in one case), w ith finds

biers, and possible placem ents o r grooves for

that further suggest the relative efflorescence o f Late G eom etric Thebes.

wheeled carts (c f. I I . 2 4 .5 9 0 ). T h o lo s tom b s have n o t b een fou nd , although it is likely th a t two exceptionally large ch am b er to m b s (th e so-called “M em orials o f th e C h ild ren o f O edipus ”), o n e o f w hich was decorated w ith w all-paintings, held

S e e a ls o

M ycenaean Age; Dark Age. A N A S T A S IA D A K O U R I - H I L D

high-status b urials (see B urial Customs ). H ab itatio n dating to th e postpalatial 12th and flim sy structu res atop earlier M ycenaean rem ains.

T heb es (0 f)ß a i or © ijß q ), Cilician (also know n as H ypoplakian) T heb es is a town below Plakos

Eleventh- an d 10th -cen tu ry graves have m ostly

n ear M t. Ida in the Troad. Inhabited by Cilicians

11th centuries is sparse and takes the fo rm o f

Andromache

b een b ro u gh t to ligh t along th e east an d southeast

( I I . 6 .3 9 7 ), it was the h om e o f

slopes, b u t recently also w est o f th e citadel. T hey

before her m arriage to Hector, and ruled over by

are cists covered w ith reused r o o f tiles o r stone

h er father Eetion (1 ) (6 .3 9 5 -3 9 8 ). Achilles

slabs, o r o f th e pithos/am phora type (in on e case

sacked this city in a raid narrated b y A ndrom ache

containin g a crem a tio n ), and are furnished with

h erse lf ( 6 .4 1 6 -4 2 8 ) and in the lost Cyclic C y p r ia

b ron ze and iron grave goods as well as pottery.

as well (arg. 2 4 W est). As K irk (1 9 9 0 , 2 1 1 ) has

M ycenaean

pointed o u t, so m any unconnected details about

ch a m b er to m b s m ay have been

reused at this tim e. A sh anty stru ctu re dating to

this raid are preserved in various places in the

the Subm ycenaean o r th e P rotog eom etric era

I l i a d th at it m u st have been the su b ject o f an cien t

above the Treasury R o o m o f th e M ycenaean

ep ic trad ition . C hryseis as well as A ndrom ache’s

palatial co m p lex was associated w ith a fragm en­

m o th er were captured here, and A ndrom ache’s

tary terracotta m ale figu rine tentatively id enti­

seven b ro thers were killed. From th e spoils cam e

fied as a d eity o r centaur (A ravantinos 20 0 2 ;

th e PHORMiNx played by Achilles w hen the E mbassy arrives (9 .1 8 6 -1 8 8 ), a horse, Pedasos

cf. P roto g eo m etric p o ttery fro m th e sam e site,

862

THE BES, C IL IC IA N

(2), that, although m o rta l, is a m atch for Achilles’ im m ortal horses (16.152-164), and the iron

sanctuaries o f Am on at K arnak and Luxor, about

offered as a prize in the Funeral Gam es for

the delta, on the west bank, today one o f the most

Patroklos (23.826-827). In th e C atalogue of Sh ips , th e sacking o f Lyrnessos (in which B riseis was taken) and T heb es are closely linked (2.688-693).

rem arkable archaeological sites in the world.

corruption o f the Egyptian nam e ( w s t = “scepter

T heb es has been tentatively identified as the

tow n,” or n i w t r s t = “the southern city ”); the nam e

four hundred miles south o f where the river joins

T h e identity o f names o f Egyptian and Boeotian

T hebes cann ot be easily explained as the Greek

Bronze Age settlem en t at M an d ra Tepe in the

m ust depend on the Greek perception o f the

Troad (C o o k 1973, 2 6 7 ), near th e presum ed sites

Egyptian m onu m ents, known only by hearsay, as

o f Lyrnessos and Chryse.

being like the gates o f Thebes, their ow n legen­ dary gated city. So did the later G reeks recast the

S ee

also G eography, the Iliad .

iconography o f the ba-bird , the Egyptian soul, as

CASEY DUÉ Thebes (0f| ß ai), Egyptian

the h orrific sirens , and the protective, healing m ale sphinx as the m aleficent devouring female “strangler.”

A flirtatious H elen

enters the w edding party o f h er ow n daughter,

R e fe r e n c e s a n d S u g g e s te d R e a d in g s

attended by three m aids and show ing o ff with a

P o l/. 2 0 0 1,3 8 4 - 3 8 8 .

silver basket rim m ed in golb , an d a golden dis­

BARRY B. POWELL

taff, gifts of the wife o f an im p o rta n t Egyptian (b u t w ith th e good G reek nam e o f Polybos [5])

Albert Loud (1951, 73) first defined the

who lived in T heb es, “w here treasures in greatest

Them e

store are laid up in peop le’s houses” ( O d . 4.126).

t h e m e as “a recurrent elem ent o f description or

Polybos also richly rewarded M enelaos with

narration in traditional oral poetry,” noting that

precious metal o b jects an d ten talents o f gold. Egyptian T heb es was th e land o f gold.

“it is not restricted, as is th e formula, by m etrical

In H om er’s second reference to Egyptian Thebes,

Achilles, reaching fo r

a d u n a ta

( “im possible

considerations; hence, it should n o t be lim ited to exact w ord-for-w ord repetition." T h e concept has its roots in W alter Arend’s (19 3 3 ) idea o f the “typi­

things”) to em phasize h is rejection o f the E mbassy,

cal scene" in H om er, but evolved within the

invokes th e wealth o f T hebes o f Egypt “where

PARRY-Lord

treasures in greatest store are laid up in m en’s

dynam ic expressive pattern em ployed by the

houses - T hebes which is a city o f a hundred gates

g u s l a r i o f the Form er Yugoslavia. As such, it was

through every o n e o f w hich sally fo rth two hun ­

described m ost thoroughly in Lord’s S i n g e r o f T a le s

oral- formulaic

theory

as

a

dred w arriors w ith horses and cars” ( I I . 9 .3 8 1 -

(1 9 6 0 , 6 8 -9 8 ) and elsewhere as a com positional

3 8 4 ). Scholars interpret Achilles’ rem ark about

elem ent com m on to an cien t G^eek, South S lavic,

T hebes in opposite ways. So m e th in k it to be a rem ­

O ld English, and oth er oral and oral-derived nar­

iniscence o f the glorious Egyptian 18th Dynasty

rative poetries (see O ral Traditions). T h e them e

(ca. 1 5 5 0 -1 2 9 0 bce), passed o n through oral tra ­

was originally understood as a m ultiform u n it that

dition . O thers th in k that the reference depends on

provided a flexible superstructure for narrative

the opening o f G reek trade under Psam m etichus I

action , but could be adapted to suit the specifics o f

(ca. 6 6 4 -6 1 0 bce), h en ce constituting a t e r m in u s

each particular situation. Its shape and substance

p o s t q u e r n fo r th e com p osition o f th e I l i a d .

also vary from o n e singer to the n ext, and even

Achilles’ rem ark b est agrees, however, w ith H o m er’s generally diffuse know ledge o f E gypt, appropriate during the late Iro n Age an d the

from one performance to th e next. As illustration o f this characteristic variation w ithin lim its, here is a sh o rt excerpt from a South

G reek R enaissance o f the 8th cen tu ry bce (8 th C entury R enaissance) b efore the p o st-iro n Age

Slavic oral ep ic th em e, taken from two o f Ibro

G reeks established a firm fo o th o ld in Egypt. T he

Alija and Velagic Selim ,” recorded by Parry, Lord,

great gates o f T hebes to w hich Achilles refers

and Nikola V ujnovic in 3 2 0 -3 2 1 ):

are in reality the im m ense pylons th a t precede the

B asic’s perform ances o f the tale en titled “Alagid 1935

(Foley

1990a,

THEME

( 2 9 1 b . 3 8 1 -3 9 5 )

(6597.436-448)

W hen the sun had dawned and risen,

W h en the sun had daw ned and risen,

See the lady b a n k a , brothers -

You should have seen the lady b an ica -

W ell, she w ent to the ban’s cham ber.

W ell, she w ent to th e b an ’s cham ber,

863

She bore young M arijane. T h en she addressed the ban thus: T h en she called good m o rn in g to him ,

“G ood m orn ing , ban o f Zadar.

And the ban wished her good health: “Your health, young lady.” And the ban o f Zadar addressed her: “W hy have you co m e to m e so early?” “H ear m e, b an o f Zadar, W h at so rt o f p risoner have you captured? Last n ig ht h e had you in confusion ;

W h at so rt o f prison er have you captured? T h e n he had all Zadar in confusion; B u t you should have seen little M arijan e -

H e frightened you r little M arijane.

T h e little o n e was surely frightened. He had all Zadar in confusion. I com fo rted h im w ith honey a n d sugar,

1 tried to c o m fo rt h im w ith h on ey and sugar,

And finally w ith m y necklace.”

And finally w ith my necklace. But he could n o t be com forted , by G o d ... . ”

T h e first fo rty years o f studies o f the H om eric

them e exhibits consid erable variation in th e fixity

them e are exp ertly sum m arized by M . W. Edwards

o f its sup erstru cture and the exten t o f verbal co r­

(1 9 9 2 ), w h o groups w hat he calls " t y p e -s c e n e s ” into five categories: battle ( a r m in g , c a t a l o g u e s ,

respondence am o n g its instan ces (C o o te 1980; Foley 1990a, 2 7 8 -3 2 8 ) . As w ith investigations o f

s p e e c h e s , etc.), social intercou rse

fo rm u laic phraseology and story-p attern - the

( h o s p it a l it y ,

s u p p l ic a t io n , a s s e m b l y , etc.), travel (by land or

two o th er m ajo r levels o f expressive design in the

s e a ), ritual ( s a c r if ic e , funeral rites, o m e n s , etc.),

o ral-fo rm u laic theory - it is well to rem em b er

(testing o f a

that the size o f the H om eric corpus (ab o u t 2 8 ,000

stranger, l a m e n t s , etc.). D eparting to som e exten t from Lord’s understanding o f “them e,”

lines) is extrem ely lim ited and confin ed to only two tale-types. T h is reality m akes com p arative

Edwards em phasizes that these H om eric units

analogies even m ore im p ortan t for the u nder­

need

standing o f the I l i a d and O d y s s e y as o r a l -

and speeches and deliberation

n o t show close verbal correspondence

am ong their instances, b u t consist rather o f

d e r iv e d t e x t s .

“recu rrent blo ck [s] o f narrative w ith an identifi­

A nother research focus that has em erged in

able stru ctu re” (1 9 9 2 , 2 8 5 ). T h e debate over ver­ bal correspondence characterized scholarship on

recent years is the consid eration o f the aesthetic ram ification s o f th em atic structure. From P arry’s

the them e in o th er fields as well, especially in O ld

early publications onward, critics o b je cted to

English poetry (F ry 1968).

what they saw as a m echanical view o f H om eric

As com parative research proceeded, it becam e

com p o sition th at superseded th e p ossibility o f

apparent th at th e th em e - like o th er oral tradi­

artistic choice. I f diction and n a r r a t iv e patterns

tional units and patterns - varies in structu re and texture fro m on e tradition to an o th er and from

were prefabricated, they asked, then how do we approach H o m er’s art? M any early studies, such

o n e genre to another. In o th er words, the unit

as B ern ard Fenik’s (1 9 6 8 ) analysis o f typical

shows b o th a trad itio n -d ep en d ent and genre-

b a t t l e - s c e n e s in th e I l i a d , im plicitly answ ered

dependent m orph ology (F o ley 1990a, 8 - 9 , pas­

such com p lain ts by illustrating th em atic m o r­

sim ). M oreover, even w ithin th e w ell-collected

phology, b u t o n ly b y dissolving the exclusive

Sou th Slavic oral ep ic trad itio n , w here the co n ­

b in ary o f stru ctu re versus a rt can we appreciate

cept was principally developed and defined, the

th e aesthetic depth o f th e H o m eric poem s.

864

THEME

“Traditional referentiality,” a co ncep t devel­ oped from collating dozens o f song-versions o f South Slavic oral epics, addresses this false d ich ot­ o m y by understanding each instan ce o f a them e (o r o th er traditional u n it) as a part standing idi­ om atically for a m uch larger whole. D efined as “the invoking o f a co n text that is enorm ously larger and m ore ech o ic than the text o r work itself, that brings the lifeblood o f generations o f

the theme is by Lord (1951, 1960), with a summary of Homeric narrative patterns in Edwards (1992). On struc­ tural morphology, see Foley (1990a) (Homer, 240-277; South Slavic, 278-328; Old English, 329-358); an exten­ sive investigation o f the hospitality scene is available in Reece (1993). For discussion o f the artistic implications o f multiple themes in several traditions, see Foley (1991: in South Slavic epic, 68-83, 109-118, 124-133; in Homer’s Ilia d , 156-189; in Old English, 223-242; 1995, 164—175; 1999,169-199).

poem s and perform ances to th e individual per­ JO H N M IL E S FO LEY

form an ce o r text" (Foley 1991, 7 ), traditional ref­ eren tiality goes beyond assessm ent o f structu re to full engagem ent with m eaning. It insists that com p ositional strategies also involve b u ilt-in conventional associations, w hich figure crucially in flu ent expression and reception. C onsider the exam ple o f the Feast them e in H o m er (Foley 1999, 1 7 1 -1 8 7 , 2 7 1 -2 7 3 ) , which occurs thirty-tw o tim es in the O d y s s e y and three tim es in the I l i a d (see Feasting ). Its structure consists generically o f a host and gu est(s), a for­ mal seating, actions that co n stitu te feasting, and satisfaction o f the gu est(s), w ith great flexibility as to who presides, who attends, and so forth. But the im portance o f this them e goes far beyond m ere usefulness to traditional referentiality: by collating its thirty-five instances, we can see that “it betokens a ritualistic event leading from an obvious and preexisting problem to an effo rt at m ediation o f that problem ” (Foley 1999, 174). T h e Feast them e is in other words m ore than tec­ tonic; it is also m etonym ic and idiom atic, en rich ­ ing each variantinstance with indexical traditional m eaning. T h e sam e is true for the Lament them e in the I l i a d (Foley 1999, 1 8 7 -1 9 9 ), which H om er and his tradition deploy to add traditional reso­ nance to Andromache’s address o f Hector in Bo o k 6 (4 0 5 —4 3 8 ). Via this expressive strategy, her plea to the T rojan leader to forgo his return to bat­ tle is sim ultaneously a lam ent for her husband who in effect stands before h er as a dead man. S ee a lso

O ral-F ormulaic T heory.

th e m is

see Justice .

Them is (©épiç; cf. t h e m i s “w hat is laid down rig h t,” " fa s " )

A goddess associated with law,

justice , and righ t cond uct. Sh e is daughter o f

Earth and Sky (H es. T h . 1 3 5 ), and sibling o f the T itans. In Hesiod , T h em is is th e second wife o f Z eus (T h . 9 0 1 -9 0 6 ) , by w hom she gives b irth to (am on g others) Lawfulness (E u n om ia), Justice (D ik e), and Peace (E iren e). T h e H om eric T hem is is m osdy associated w ith th e gatherings o f the gods, and her speaking role is restricted to ju st two lines ( I I . 1 5 .9 0 -9 1 ). In this episode she leaves the assem bled gods on O lympos at th e house o f Zeus to greet H era, w ho has ju st b een repri­ m anded by Zeus. T hem is runs up first to greet h er and offers h er a cup to d rink from , and som e consoling words. T h e fact th at H om er chose T hem is to greet H era first after her bruising en coun ter with Zeus (see D io s Apatê) m ay have im plicit m eanings b ou n d up in her broad er role in o th er early G reek narratives o f the Trojan

War (Janko 1992, o n 1 5 .8 7 -8 8 ). Bu t, at the very least, the two goddesses seem to have a w arm per­ sonal relationship, and they share no illusions about Zeus’ fierce tem p eram en t (1 5 .8 5 -9 9 ). Her role as convenor o f divine assem blies is seen prior to the T heomachy when Zeus tells her to call the gods together so th at he can address them (20.4; cf. its close association with “assem bly” at II.

R e fe r e n c e s a n d S u g g e s te d R e a d in g s

11 .8 07). Likewise, in the O dyssey Telemachos

On the roots of the theme, see A r e n d ( 1 9 3 3 ) on Homer, with a response by Parry (M ffV , 404-407), as well as the “recitation-parts" ( V ortrag sth eile ) and “idea-parts" (B ild th e ile ) in Kirghiz oral epic cited by Radlov (1885, xvi-xvii; see also Radlov 1990) and the “compositionpattern” (.K o m p o sitio n ssch em a ) cited by Gesemann ( 1 9 2 6 , 6 9 ) in South Slavic oral epic. The classic presentation of

prays in the assembly by O lym pian Zeus and by T hem is “who dissolves and convenes the assem ­ blies o f m en” (2 .6 8 -6 9 ) (S. W est 1988, a d lo c .) . S ee a lso

Justice. C H R IS T O P H E R JO H N M A C K IE

TH E O K IYM E N O S Theodicy

Is there divine ju stice in the H om eric

S ee a lso

865

R e s p o n s ib il it y .

epics that justifies the ways o f gods to m en? Zeus’ speech in the divine assembly opening the epic action o f the

O

d y sse y

(1 .3 2 -4 3 ) answers it in the

affirm ative: it has been described as the “oldest

R e fe r e n c e s a n d S u g g e s te d R e a d in g s

Lloyd-Jones 1983; Clay 1983 [1997); Kullm ann 1985; Segal 1992; Olson 1995.

Greek theodicy” (Jaeger 1966, 84). T his speech,

R A IN E R F R IE D R IC H

given its speaker and its position, is clearly p ro­ gram m atic, outlining the theological and m oral outlook that inform s the epic action o f the poem . Rejecting a view com m only held by m ortals who see divine agency behind all hum an suffering -

Achili.es’ allegory o f the two urns on the doorsill o f Zeus’ house at I l i a d 2 4 .5 2 7 -5 3 3 com es to m ind - Zeus states that men bring the sufferings they incu r beyond their allotted portion ( h u p e r m o t o n : see

Fate) upon themselves through trans­

gressions com m itted in reckless folly ( atasthalié) despite divine warning. They have thus only to blam e themselves. Zeus uses as a paradigm the story o f A i G i S T H

O S

who perished in consequence o f

com m itting crim es in blind recklessness, despite being warned by the gods through Hermes . T h e gods only act as guardians o f justice , w ho warn in advance and see to the punishm ent afterwards. Im plied is a m oral conception o f the gods whose ways to m en are ju st - and here the O d y s s e y m oves beyond the

Il i a

d

,

the ways o f w hose gods

can be cruel and vindictive, when they feel th eir h on or im pugned by m ortals: then they are n o t exactly unjust, but often lack fairness. T h e fact that in the O d y s s e y Poseidon and Helios act th at way, w ith Zeus seem ing to ratify th eir behavior, has been viewed as underm ining the theodicy and rendering the theology o f the O d y s s e y incon sist­ en t (Focke 1943; Heubeck 1950; Fenik 1974); yet it can be show n that this is n o t the case (Friedrich 1987, 1991) - Zeus’ theodicy is exem plified in the plot o f the O d y s s e y by the fates o f the m em bers o f Odysseus’ last crew on T hrinakia (see O dysseus’

Companions); m ost pronouncedly in the fates o f the S uitors in Ithaca: repeatedly warned (2 .1 5 7 -1 5 8 by p rophet Halitherses ; 2 0 .3 5 0 -3 5 1 by the seer T heoklymenos), they constantly transgress divine and hum an laws. T h eir punish­ m en t at the hands o f O dysseus, ord ained by Zeus (5 .2 3 -2 4 ) and b rou gh t a b o u t w ith th e aid o f

Athene , prom pts Laertes to co n firm th e divinely proclaim ed th eod icy fro m th e h u m an perspec­ tive: th at th e Su itors have paid fo r their blind and reckless hybris proves th at there are ju st gods o n high O lympos (2 4 .3 5 1 -3 5 2 ).

Theoklym enos

(©eoxXOpevoc, “know n to the

gods”; see Names 3.1b)

A prophet from Argos,

son o f the prophet Polypheides, and descendant o f the prop het M elampous ( O d . 1 5 .2 2 3 -2 5 6 ; [H es.j fr. 136 M -W ). Fleeing Argos after killing a m an, T heoklym en os supplicated T elemachos as he was leaving P ylos and accom panied him to

Ithaca (1 5 .2 5 7 -2 8 6 ). T h e elaborate

genealogy

given a t h is first appearance in the poem heralds his sign ificant role as prop het at Ithaca, although he rem ains an an onym ou s guest to h is hosts (1 5 .5 3 6 and 542, 17.163, 2 0 .3 6 0 ). T heoklym enos’ prophecies prefigure significant stages in the progress o f O dysseus’ return. First, interpreting a bird omen , he prophesied that Telem achos’ fam ily would always rule Ithaca (1 5 .5 2 5 —5 3 8 ), given credence sh ortly afterwards w hen Odysseus and Telem achos were reunited (1 6 .1 7 7 -1 7 8 ); he then revealed to Penelope that Odysseus was already in Ith aca and planning revenge o n the Suitors (1 7 .1 5 1 -1 6 1 ), ju st before Odysseus set o u t from Eumaios’ hut fo r the palace (1 7 .1 8 2 -1 8 3 ). His final prophecy was precipitated by an eerie vision o f the Suitors’ death, while they themselves were in the grip o f helpless laughter (2 0 .3 5 0 -3 5 7 ); this is a unique exam ple o f inspired prophecy in H om er, b u t the strange vision is akin to the om en sent by the gods in T hrinakia, when the dead cattle o f H elios lowed on the spits, and their hides crawled (1 2 .3 9 4 -3 9 6 ). T h e Suitors greeted T heoklym en os’ prophecy w ith disdain, b u t its fulfillm ent was set in train im m ediately afterwards, w hen Penelope fetched O dysseus’ bow for the archery contest which culm inated in their slaughter. A fter his final prophecy, T heoklym enos departs from the hall and the poem. S ee a lso

P rophecy.

R e fe r e n c e s a n d S u g g e s te d R e a d in g s

Thornton 1970,58-62; Fenik 1974,233-244.

K. JANET WATSON

866

THEO MACHY

T heom achy

C o n flict

alth ou g h A thene plays a cru cial role in the

betw een th e gods characterizes th e early G reek poetry o f H om er and H e sio d , and n um erou s

v io len t h u m iliation o f A res an d Ap h r o d it e by D io m ed es in B o o k 5 (31 1—430, 7 9 3 - 9 0 9 ) .

parallels are to b e fou nd in N ear Eastern m yth o l­ ogy (see W est 1966, 1 8 -3 1 , o n H esio d ic and

T h em is to su m m on the gods to O lympos for a

N ear Eastern “succession m yths”; see also N ear

co u n cil ( 2 0 .4 -6 ). All o f them attend, even the

E ast

and

(“B attle

o f th e

gods")

Ho m er ). T h e term “T h eo m a ch y ”

describes an episode in the Il i a d w here the gods are invited by Z eus to involve them selves w ith ­

At the begin n in g o f the T h eom ach y Zeus tells

r iv e r s (apart from

O cean ) and th e Nymphs

( 2 0 .7 -1 2 ). Zeus then proceeds to give the gods com p lete freedom o f m ovem ent to su p p ort the

o u t restrain t in the battle betw een G reeks and

respective sides, although he h im se lf will m erely

T rojans (2 0 .1 - 7 4 ) , follow ed by the actual c o n ­

w atch from O lym pos, and take great pleasure in

flict betw een pairs o f gods (2 1 .3 8 3 -5 1 3 , together with

the

S kamandros - H

th eir struggle (2 0 .2 2 -2 3 , 2 1 .3 8 8 -3 9 0 ). T h e m ain

co n flict

gods o n both sides are nam ed in the first section

before it, 2 1 .3 3 1 -3 8 2 ). It is central to th e I l i a d

as they m ake th eir way in to battle (2 0 .3 1 -4 0 ).

th at th e T rojan W ar is a co sm ic struggle, and

T h ey are divided as follows: to the G reek side at

eph a isto s

th at the gods them selves are fu nd am entally

the s h ip s go H era, A thene, Poseidon, Her m es ,

divided over the fate o f the city. A pollo is the

and H ephaistos (2 0 .3 3 -3 6 ); and to the T rojan

m ost determ ined

side go Ares, Apollo, A r te m is , L eto , X anthos

and effective su p p o rter o f

T roy, w hile o th er gods su p p o rt th e G reeks in

(4 )

their qu est for th e city’s d e stru ctio n (m o st p ro m ­

A phrodite (2 0 .3 8 -4 0 ). W hen they en ter the fray

(= Skam andros,

the

river at Troy), and

inently H f. ra , At h en e , and Po seid o n ). Zeus,

they are divided into pairs: Poseidon stands

strictly speaking, is im partial, b u t h e sup ports

against Apollo, A res against A thene, Hera against

the Troj'an side fo r a tim e in th e earlier p a rt o f the

A rtem is, Leto against H erm es, and Hephaistos against X anthos/Skam andros (2 0 .6 7 -7 4 ).

poem as a favor to T h e t is , w ho o n ce saved him from an earlier struggle betw een th e gods ( 1 .3 9 6 -

T h e eventual co n flict betw een the gods in the

4 0 6 ). T h e ultim ate doom o f the c ity o f Troy is

follow ing b o o k takes a n u m b er o f d ifferent form s.

em phasized th rou gh ou t the I l i a d , however, and

T h ere is the bru tal d om in an ce o f th e Skam andros

the gods, includ ing Zeus, play a cen tra l p art in

River, whose lovely w aters are b u rn t by Hephaistos

brin gin g this about.

w hen he tries to drow n Ac h il le s . Skam andros is

W hile there are som e resem b lances betw een

forced to su b m it totally to th e sup erior force o f

H o m er’s T h e o m a ch y and a T ita n o m a ch y ( “B attle

th e O lym pian b lacksm ith (2 1 .3 3 1 -3 8 2 ). H is sub­

o f the T ita n s”), especially in the div isio n o f th e

je ctio n to fire is a h arb ing er o f w hat will happen

gods at I l i a d 2 0 .1 - 7 4 (R ein h ard t 1 9 6 1 ,4 4 6 - 4 5 0 ) ,

to th e city o f Troy in tim e to com e, a fate which

the general ch aracter o f th e two c o n flicts could

b o th gods and m en an ticip ate (cf. 4 .1 6 3 -1 6 5 ,

scarcely b e m ore different. In H esiod ’s T h e o g o n y

6 .4 4 7 - 4 4 9 , 2 0 .3 1 5 - 3 1 7 , 2 1 .3 7 4 - 3 7 6 ; see F o r e ­

( 6 1 7 - 7 1 9 ) the gods o f the earlier g en eratio n (th e

sh ad ow in g ). T h e n there is the co n flict between

T ita n s ) fight w ith the new er g e n e ra tio n (th e

A thene and Ares, the latter o f w hom again com es

O lym p ian s) in a m o n u m en ta l ten -year struggle.

o f f th e worse after h is defeat earlier in the poem

T h e final victo ry o f Zeus and th e O lym pian s

(2 1 .3 9 1 —414; cf. 5 .7 9 3 -9 0 9 ). T h is is duly followed

begin s a new phase o f en lig h ten m en t an d w is­

by A thene’s easy defeat o f A phrodite ( 2 1 .4 1 5 -

d om , signified, n o t the least, by Z eus’ ch o ice o f

4 3 3 ). N ext, Poseidon squares up against his

two wives - M etis (sig nify in g cu n n in g in telli­

nephew Apollo (4 3 4 —4 6 9 ), b u t A pollo deem s it an

gence, w isd om , 8 8 6 - 9 0 0 ; see m ê t is ), a n d T h em is

inap propriate c o n flict because o f th eir close

(law, cu sto m , ord er, 9 0 1 - 9 0 6 ) . T h e I l i a d o n t h e

fam ilial relationship (4 6 8 —4 6 9 ). W hen A rtem is

o th e r h and d epicts a later a n d m o re stable phase o f th e co sm os w here Z eus exerts sig n ifica n t

takes issue w ith h er b ro th e r A pollo’s decision n ot to fight, she is chid ed b y h er o p p o n en t H era who

co n tro l over th e role o f th e gods in th e T rojan

boxes h er over th e ears fo r h er trouble (4 7 0 -4 9 6 ).

W ar, a lb eit in a way th a t causes o cca sio n a l ten ­

T h e arrows fall harm lessly fro m h er quiver, and

sio n s (e .g ., 8 .1 - 5 2 , 1 5 .1 -1 0 9 ). Physical violen ce

A rtem is flies o ff w eeping, leaving h er m o th er Leto

a m o n g th e O lym p ian s is n o t in keep ing w ith

to p ick up th e b ow and arrow s (5 0 2 - 5 0 4 ). Leto

Zeus’ co n tro l o f th e co sm o s w ith in th e po em ,

herself, an even m ore u nlikely divine w arrior than

THEOXENY

867

her daughter, is accorded all due respect by her

co m m an d , plays th e role o f the god in disguise. In

oppon en t H erm es, who invites her to boast o f a

all three types th e h o st is hospitable, b u t in nega­

victory over him (4 9 7 -5 0 1 ).

tive theoxeny th e surround ing com m u nity v io­

Book 21 has been criticized as a weak and

lates the san ctity o f hospitality, provoking a divine

ineffective co nclu sio n to the opening section o f

w rath, resulting in th eir d estruction. An unnam ed

the T h eo m ach y (2 0 .1 -7 4 ). In the earlier passage

suitor defines th e m ythic type when A ntinoos

H ad es , god o f the U nderw orld , was so fearful

strikes th e disguised O dysseus w ith a footstool,

o f the im m in en t co sm ic co n flict th at he cried

observing th at the stranger could be a god in dis­

out loud and leapt from his th ron e (2 0 .6 1 -6 6 ). O f the later part o f the T heom ach y in B o o k 21,

guise, since they wander the cities incognito to scrutinize m ortals’ behavior (1 7 .4 8 3 —487).

Leaf and Bayfield (1 8 9 8 , 5 00) w rote that “no

T h e O d y s s e y em ploys negative theoxeny the

oth er piece o f H om eric poetry sinks to so low a

m o m en t Ath en e enters the palace on I thaca as

level as this, w hether in tone o r execu tio n . T h e

M en tes . W h ile Telemachos sees h er at once,

action is no better than a ridiculous h arleq u in ­

and offers exem plary hospitality, the 108 suitors

ade, where the highest gods and goddesses

in th eir raucous behavior provoke the disguised

descend to poor buffoonery.” T h e co m ic levity o f

god’s w rath (1 .2 2 7 -2 2 9 ). In th e two closest paral­

the O lym pian co n flict, however, does throw the

lels, the m yth o f Sod om and G o m o rrah in G enesis

tragic events on earth into re lie f (R ein h ard t 1961, 4 4 6 -4 5 0 ; G riffin 1980, 1 7 9 -2 0 4 ). G riffin

( M e t . 8 .6 1 1 -7 2 4 ), those w ho offend the god or

writes o f the use o f the d ivin e audience (like

angel by violating hospitality are destroyed that

19 and O vid’s accou n t o f Baucis and P hilem on

Zeus at 2 1 .3 8 7 -3 9 0 ) "to brin g o u t and to under­

sam e day. B u t the O d y s s e y postpones the Su itors’

line the nature and significance o f hum an life

d estru ction u n til Odysseus’ return, to allow him

and death” (2 0 4 ). Im p o rtan t too is the d o m i­

to carry it ou t, thus giving theoxeny a m ore h eroic

nance o f the gods on the G reek side in the

m odality, m ore suitable fo r epic, than is the case

T heom achy. As R ichardson (1 9 9 3 ) writes (on

in G enesis o r Ovid. As soon as he reaches Ithaca,

2 1 .3 8 3 -5 1 3 ), “it is surely . .. a sign ificant po in t that this episode sym bolizes the alm o st total co l­

A then e advises h im , disguising h im as an old beg­ gar, directing h im to endu re violence from the

lapse o f the p ro-T rojan forces in heaven, and so

Su itors (1 3 .3 0 5 -3 1 0 , 3 9 3 -4 1 1 ) : In B ook s 1 4 -2 2

foreshadow s T roy’s fall (cf. 2 1 .4 2 8 - 4 3 3 ,5 1 6 - 5 1 7 ,

Odysseus plays th e role o f th e god in disguise test­

5 2 2 -5 2 5 , 5 8 3 -5 8 9 ) . O n ly Apollo rem ains free

ing m o rtals’ hospitality, punishing th ose who

to act, in order to postpone the tim e o f d oom

transgress it, a virtual theoxeny.

for the city.” T h e T h eo m ach y was also th e su b ject o f an early allegorical in terpreta tio n .

W h en T elem achos visits N estor , w ith A thene

bce)

as M en tor , th e O d y s s e y em ploys positive th e o ­ xeny. H ere everyone behaves as th ey should,

seem s to have defended H om er against attacks

N estor b rin g in g h is un kn ow n guests righ t into

from

the

th e p erfo rm an ce o f th e hecatomb to Po seid o n .

T h eom ach y as a co n flict o f the natural forces o f

G enesis 18, A brah am an d Sara’s reception o f the

the cosm os (8 B 2 D -K ; cf. Lam b erto n 1 9 9 7 ,4 3 ).

disguised angels, is also a positive theoxeny (cf.

T heagenes the

of

R hegium (late 6th cen tu ry

philosophers

by

“reading”

C H R ISTO PH ER JOHN MACKIE

O vid’s acco u n t o f H yrieus: F a s t . 5 .4 9 3 -5 4 4 ). B o th H o m eric ep ic and O ld T estam en t m yth closely ju xtap o se th e con trastin g types to m ake

Theoxeny

Theoxeny is the genre o f myth in

the differences in the ou tcom es m o re obviou s.

which a god takes the form o f a stranger to test a

O ld T estam en t m yth also em ploys versions o f

h ost’s hospitality . W hile H om eric epic uses hos­

virtual theoxeny in the m yths o f Elijah and

pitality to reveal a character’s m orality (Race 1993,

Elishah

8 2 ), theoxeny is the prim ary m ythic type through

C h ristian m yth em ploys positive and negative

(1

Kings

1 7 :8 -2 4 ; 2 Kings 4 :8 - 1 7 ) .

which the O d y s s e y depicts the S uito rs ’ failings.

theoxeny in Jesus’ prop hecy in M atthew 25 (cf.

T h ree subtypes can be distinguished: positive,

H ebrew s 1 3 :2 ), and his allusions to G enesis 19 in

where everyone behaves as they should; negative,

M atthew 10:15 an d Luke 10:12 c o n firm th at he

where som e violate hospitality and disturb the

sees it as a h osp itality narrative, n o t a co m m en t

guest; and virtual, where a m ortal, under divine

o n sexual preference.

868

THEOXE NY

R e fe r e n c e s a n d S u g g e s te d R e a d in g s

him and abused the co m m o n m an - because

See further Kearns 1982; Reece 1993; Louden 1999 and 2011, ch. 2.

A gam em non’s b ehavior is the focus o f attention

BRUCE LOUDEN

here in Book 2 as it was in B o o k 1. T h e p oet has Thersites alm ost ech o Achilles in B o o k 1 - the m eanest m an is assum ing the role o f the greatest hero. T here is n o need to explain their “associa­

Paeonian, an ally o f

tio n ” and Achilles’ hatred for Thersites (2.220)

Troy and an associate o f Asteropaios (II. 17.216).

neoanalytically by reference to a putative m ore

Together with o th er Paeonians , killed by Achili . es

serious con fron tation betw een them in preH om eric tradition (see N eoanalysis ); the story

Thersilochos (© epaíX oxoç)

in the river (2 1 .2 0 9 ; see also S kamandros ).

(told in the A it h io p is arg. 1 West) that Achilles kills T hersites after being insulted over his alleged In the I l ia d , the p ecu ­

love for Penthesileia, m ay be spun ou t o f the I l i a d .

liar ch a ra cter o f T h e rsite s appears in on e ep i­

In the I l i a d , T hersites is given no genealogy and appears to be o f no d istinction (b u t see his claim

T h e rsite s (0epoÍTr|ç)

sode only. In B o o k 2, as A gam em non ’s failed trial (P e ir a ) o f th e arm y has led to things g et­

to have taken prisoners, 2 .2 3 1 ); it is tem p ting to

ting o u t o f c o n tro l, O d ysseu s restores ord er by b eatin g and ab u sin g th e c o m m o n m an, te a ch ­

understand even his nam e as im plying a negative

ing th a t “lord ship fo r m any is no good thing.

sources, Thersites is a son o f Ag rio s and thus the

characterization

( “the

rash

o n e”).

In

other

Let th ere be o n e ru ler” (2 .2 0 4 ). W h en every­

cousin o f T ydeus (see also Po r th eu s ); sm all

body else has sat dow n quietly, T h ersites takes

w onder then th at in the A i t h i o p i s a s t a s i s (discord)

the floor. He is d escrib ed as a ra m b lin g speaker

should arise over his killing, leading to D iom edes

and so m eth in g o f a jester, th o ro u g h ly ugly, veh em en tly d etested by everybody, esp ecially by

H o m ic id e ).

Ac h il le s

and O dysseus ( 2 1 2 - 2 2 3 ) . In his speech , he targets n o t O dysseus b u t A gam em n o n ,

forcing Achilles to undergo p u rification (see F o r argum ents fo r T hersites as a traditional heroic character, see K ullm ann (1 9 5 5 b ) an d Ebert

a ccu sin g h im o f greed a n d q u estio n in g h is c o m ­

(1 9 6 9 ), against Katzung (1 9 6 0 ) and Andersen

p eten ce as a lead er (2 2 5 —2 3 4 ); he th en suggests

(1 9 8 2 ). A gainst a w idespread tend ency to read the

to

w eepish, g o o d -fo r-n o th in g “Achaean

T hersites episode in a “class co n flict” perspective,

w o m en ” o f th e arm y th a t th ey all re tu rn h om e

the

M arks (2 0 0 5 ) reads it as elite competition

and

(2 3 5 -2 3 8 );

betw een social equals. Seen in its Iliad ic context

A g a m em n o n has even d ish o n o red A chilles; b u t

the scene seem s to express th e poet’s w arning to his aristocratic aud ience th at behaving like

leave

A g am em n o n

b eh in d

th en A chilles has n o b ile, o th erw ise A gam em n o n w ould have c o m m itte d h is la st in su lt ( 2 3 9 - 2 4 2 ) .

A gam em non in B o o k 1 m ay lead to popular

O d ysseu s, n o t A g a m em n o n , is the o n e to speak

upheaval; the episode exposes greedy A gam em non

again st T h e rsite s: b ein g th e w orst m an o f all

as well as ignoble Thersites. T hersites has also

th o se w ho ca m e to Troy, h e sh o u ld n o t, cer­

been interpreted as a scapegoat th at relieves the

tain ly n o t by h im s e lf ( 2 4 7 ) , argue w ith kings

arm y o f its sham e (cf. Sch m id t 2 0 0 2 ).

(lite ra lly : “take kin gs in h is m o u th ,” 2 .2 5 0 ). O d ysseus so lem n ly p ro m ises to strip T h ersites

S ee a lso

C lass.

o f h is c lo th es an d w hip h im o u t o f th e a ssem ­

0IVIND ANDERSEN

bly i f h e ever again behaves th a t fo o lish ly ( 2 4 6 -

2 6 4 ). H e th en p ro ceed s to b e a t up T h e rsite s so tears flow ; th e Ach aean s ,

th a t b lo o d an d th o u g h

so rry

fo r

h im ,

co llectiv ely

p raise

T heseus (© q aeíiç)

So n o f Aithra and Aigeus

o r Poseidon , h e grow s up in T roizen an d com es

O d ysseus fo r te a ch in g th e b ra g g a rt n o t to w ran ­

to Athens as a young m an , p erform in g a series

gle w ith kin gs ( 2 7 2 - 2 7 7 ) .

o f lab ors along th e way. H e is cred ited w ith the

T h e T hersites episode raises several interre­ lated q u estio ns with regard backgroun d,

and

A gam em non -

ideology.

to co m p o sitio n, T hersites

attacks

and n o t Odysseus, w ho beat

synoecism o f A ttica, perhaps reflected obliqu ely in th e en try fo r A thens in th e Catalogue of

S hips

( I I . 2 .5 4 7 -5 5 1 ; see Athenians ). Plays no role in either H o m eric p oem , perhaps b ecause he

THESPROTIANS belongs to an earlier generation o f heroes, the

S ee a lso

Ath en s

and

869

H o m er .

era o f H era k les . But he is present in the two stories told o f him by H o m eric heroes, though

R e fe r e n c e s a n d S u g g e s te d R e a d in g s

the lines n am in g him have been suspected to be

Ward 1970; L I M C 1.435-446 (Kron); 7.922-951 (Neils); Kearns 1989, 88-89, 108, 117-123, 143-144, 155-156, 168-169; Gantz 1993, 283, 298, 464-465, 657-659; Higbie 1997.

A thenian interpolation s since antiquity. In the first, N esto r recalls briefly how Theseus, w hom he identifies as the son o f Aigeus, helped

Pe ir ith o o s against the C entaurs in the battle

CAROLYN H IG B IE

betw een the La p it h s and C entaurs (17 1 .2 6 3 265; see also 2 .7 4 2 -7 4 4 ; O d . 2 1 .2 9 5 -3 0 4 ). T he line in w hich N estor nam es Theseus has been questioned, though it was quoted w ithout co m ­ m en t by both Pausanias (1 0 .2 9 .2 ) and Dio (5 7 .1 ) as H om eric. In the second, when O dysseus jo u r­ neys to the U nderw orld , he sees Ariadne and describes how Theseus was b ringing her from

C rete to Athens, but before they arrived, A rtem is killed h er ( O d . 1 1 .3 2 2 -3 2 5 ); Odysseus later m en tio n s that he had wished to see earlier heroes, includ ing Theseus, in the Underworld, but did n o t (1 1 .6 2 8 -6 3 5 ). T h e line nam ing T hes­ eus is said to have been inserted by Pisistratus into this passage, according to P lutarch , who cites the M egarian h isto rian Hereas, in order to please the A thenians ( T h e s . 2 0 .2 ; see P isistratean

R ecen sion ). A lth ough T heseus did n o t particip ate in the

T rojan W ar , in the versions o f the story given in th e poem s o f the Epic C ycle and elsew here, his sons A kam as and D em o p h o n did ( L i t t l e I l i a d fr. 17 W est; S a c k o f I l i o n arg. 4 W est; cf.

D iod . Sic. 4 .6 2 ). A kam as accom pan ied D io m ed es on his em bassy to ask fo r

H elen ’s return

Thespeia (© éon eia)

O ne o f the com m u nities

nam ed in the C atalogue of S h ip s as providing the B oeotian conting ent ( I I . 2 .4 9 8 ); this is evi­ dently identical with the historical city Thespiae, on e o f the leading Boeotian centers. W hile evi­ dence for occu pation could well be continuous from N eolithic tim es, centering on the M agoula hillock, activity seem s m ost extensive in Early H elladic. Even intensive survey w ork produced very few signs o f M ycenaean presence outside the hillock, and there is no certain Early Iron Age m aterial o n o r arou nd the site un til Late

G eo m etric tim es. Like several B oeotian centers, in fact, this seem s to have grown quite suddenly around the tran sition from th e G eo m etric to

A rchaic

p er io d s .

R e fe r e n c e s a n d S u g g e s te d R e a d in g s

Hope Simpson and Lazenby 1970, 22; Hope Simpson 1981,75; material being prepared for publication by the Boeotia Project, courtesy o f Profs. A. M. Snodgrass and J. L. Bintliff: see Bintliff and Snodgrass 2007, 129-132, 171-173 for preliminary comments.

(P arth en iu s, E r o t . 16; com p are the H o m eric ver­

O L IV ER T. P. K. DICK IN SO N

sion s, I I . 3 .2 0 5 -2 2 4 , 1 1 .1 3 8 -1 4 2 ) and w hile in Troy fathered a so n , w hom T heseu s' m o th er A ith ra reared (sch o l. ad Lycoph. 4 9 9 ). After the fall o f Troy, Akam as and D em o p h o n rescued

T hesprotians

A ith ra and b ro u gh t h er h om e. Pausanias d es­

(H dt. 8 .4 7 ; T h u c. 2 .8 5 ; Strab. 7.7 .1 , 7 .7 .5 ); pre­

(©ecm partoi)

An E p iro tic tribe

crib es a statue o f the T rojan H orse o n the

sented in th e Odyssey as friends o f th e Ithacans

A thenian a cro p o lis w ith M en e sth eu s , T bucer ,

(1 6 .4 2 6 -4 2 7 ). “T h e L an d o f th e T hesp rotian s”

and the sons o f T heseu s peeking o u t from it

(1 4 .3 1 5 ) in southw estern E pirus , across from

(1 .2 3 .8 ).

C orcyra (K orfu; see M ap 5 ), is the on ly part o f

T heseus’ deeds provided stories for poets and

Epirus to w hich H o m er refers (see also E phyra).

painters, as well as politicians, and the Greek land­

It is the arena o f a lying story told by the disguised

scape was m arked by the sites where his labors

O dysseus first to Eumaios and then to Penelope:

occurred. Stra bo and Pausanias note such places;

Odysseus allegedly left his treasure w ith the

see, for exam ple, their rem arks on Crom m yon

T hesprotian kin g P heidon and went to nearby D odona to ask the oracle w hether he should return to Ithaca openly o r in secret (14.314-335, 1 9 .2 8 5 -3 0 2 ; cf. 16.65; see L ies ).

(Strab. 8 .6 .2 2 ; Paus 2 .1 .3 ), the Scironian rocks (Strab. 9 .1 .4 ; Paus 1.44.8), and Aphidna (Strab. 9.1.16; Paus 1 .4 1 .3 -4 ).

8 70

THESPRO TIANS

T h e Thesprotian s and their land played a p rom in en t p art in the lost C ycle epics T è l e g o n y

H om er

refers

neither

to

Thessaly

nor

Thessalians, m en tion in g only T hessalos at I l i a d

and T h e s p r o t i s (probably ju s t p a rt o f the fo rm er),

2.679, whose sons Pheidippos and Antiphos (1)

w hich dealt w ith th e co n tin u atio n o f the Odysseus

lead a contingent o f thirty ships from K os and

story: according to Proclus’ su m m ary o f the

o th er o f the Sporades islands, Karpathos, and

T e l e g o n y (arg. 2 W est), this was where Odysseus,

Kasos. T his T hessalos is know n also to Pherecydes

fulfilling th e prop hecy given by T ir esia s in the

(fir. 78 Fow ler), w ho drew on A rchaic epic to tell

U nderworld , had to go in ord er to appease Poseid on 's anger . T h is ju xtap o sin g o f the

the story o f H erakles’ sacking o f Kos on his

O d y s s e y ' s “lying” story an d the T e l e g o n y s “true”

(2 ) daughter C halkiope, m oth er o f Thessalos; the

return from Troy, and his taking o f Eurypylos’

o n e has given rise to the hypothesis th at the

genealogy is probably a reflection o f the Greek

O d y s s e y story a b o u t the T hesp ro tian s refers to an

m igrations in the Early Iron Age, though the

alternative version o f O dysseus' h o m eco m in g As th e tholos to m b at Kuperi and th e M ycenaean

C atalogue of S hips is alive to such anachro­ nisms (the M agnetes are confin ed to th e north o f th eir peninsula, for instance, the Ainienes

citadel above th e O racle o f the D ead in the

have not yet pushed south, and cities from

A cheron

Thessaliotis are n o t represented).

(M alkin 1 9 9 8 ,1 2 6 -1 3 4 ).

Valley

testify,

“the

land

of

the

T hesprotian s” is th e o n ly p a rt o f Epirus to have

Just as in h istorical tim es, w hen the Thessalians

been affected by th e influen ce o f the M ycenaean

dom inated the association o f th e A m phictiones

civilization (H am m o n d 1 9 7 5 ,7 1 0 ).

whose shrine was at Anthela on the border o f M alis and Locris, H om er in the C atalogue o f

S ee a ls o

G eography , t h e

O d yssey.

m argalit fin kelberg

Ships ( I I . 2 .6 8 1 -7 5 9 ) groups together Achilles and his My rm id o n s from P hth ia and Hellas (see below ), whose territory includes M alis and O itaia, w ith eight contingents to the n o rth , from

T hessalos (©eocraXóç)

So n o f H era k les ; his

sons Pheidippos and An tiph o s (1 ) led the c o n ­ tingent o f K os in the C atalogue of S h ips ( II . 2 .6 7 7 -6 7 9 ). A ccording to som e sources, Thessalos was a grandson o f E urypylos (2 ), the legendary king o f Kos; accordin g to oth ers, H erakles becam e father o f Thessalos by Eurypylos’ wife C halkiope. In h istorical tim es, Kos m aintain ed the tradition th at it was founded by T hessalos and from

T hessaly . R e fe r e n c e s a n d S u g g e s te d R e a d in g s

Kirk 1985,228.

the

historical

Thessaly.

T h e ir

leaders

are:

P rotesilaos (succeeded by Podarkes ; five towns includ ing P hylake , forty sh ips); E um elos (four tow ns including P herai and I olkos , eleven ships); P hilok tetes (succeeded by M edon [1]; fou r towns, seven ships); Pod aleirios and M achaon (three tow ns including T r ik k e , thirty ships); E urypylos (1 ) (tw o tow ns, forty ships); Polypoites and L eonteus (L a p it h s ; cf. 12.181; five tow ns including G yrtone , forty ships); G ouneus (lead ing th e A inienes and the Perrh aebian s ; tw o tow ns, tw enty-tw o ships); P rothoos (leading the M agnetes; n o tow ns, forty ships). Alm ost all sites th at have b een securely identified have yielded evidence o f P rotogeom et-

P roperly th e fo u r tetrad es (Pelasgiotis,

ric o r G eo m etric occu p ation , b u t conn ection s

H estiaiotis, P hth io tis, T hessalio tis) o f th e great

w ith the Bronze Age are less num erou s: Pherai,

plain o f n o rth ern G reece, b u t often used in a

Trikka, Pteleon

m ore extended sense to inclu d e ad jacen t, depend­ e n t regions; S t ra bo , fo r instan ce (9 .5 .1 ), reflect­

saga, see A m g o n a u t i c a ; w hether o r n o t properly

Thessaly

(1 ), possibly P yrasos and A rgissa , and Iolkos (th e site o f the A rgonaut

ing co m m o n understand ing in h is day, defines

identified w ith m od ern Volos, the region is rich in

T hessaly as begin n in g a t T h erm o p ylai in the

M yceanaen rem ains) (K irk 1 9 8 5 ,2 3 0 -2 3 7 ; V issef

so u th (in clu d in g th erefore M a lis), and bounded

1997, 1 0 -4 8 ; M organ 20 0 3 , 103). Larisa, im por­

by th e sea in the east, M acedon ia in th e n o rth , and

ta n t from M ycenaean tim es, is oddly om itted , as

the peoples living aro u nd th e Pindus m assif in

the ancients already n oticed; Strab o com m ents

the w est (D eco u rt et al. 2 0 0 4 ,6 7 6 - 6 7 8 ) .

truly enough th at th e h istory o f th e w hole region

THETIS

871

is characterized by fluidity o f political arrange­

passes through Hellas en route to Phthia. A chilles’

m en ts, so the m ism atch w ith the current state o f

people are M yrm id ons, H ellenes, and Achaeans (above); Flellas and Phthia are con join ed at I l i a d

archaeology is n o t finally probative about the

and again at

and O d y s s e y

date o f the T hessalian catalogue. T he m ost fre­

2 .6 8 3

quen tly m en tion ed am ong these chieftains in the

Hellas is the h om e o f Bathykles “preem inent for

rest o f the I l i a d is Eurypylos; M achaon is an

wealth and riches am ong the M yrm id ons” at I l i a d

9 .3 9 5

1 1 .4 9 6 .

O nly in this passage is Hellas, in its

im p ortan t healer, and the two Lapiths are prom i­

1 6 .5 9 5 .

n en t in the fight at 1 2 .1 2 7 -1 9 4 ; b u t n one o f them

restricted sense, m entioned w ithout Phthia; co n ­

plays a m a jo r role.

versely, Phthia is som etim es m en tion ed w ith, b u t

P hthia, o r P h t h i ê in H o m er’s dialect, is the land

m ore often w ithout, Hellas. T h e ind ications are

o f Achilles and his father Pelf.us (e.g., II. 1.155

that “ Hellas,” a place with no real historical co u n ­

and 169, 9 .2 5 3 and 3 6 3 , 16.14, 1 9 .2 9 9 ), b u t the

terpart, was understood to be located in the

bou n d aries o f the d o m in io n are n o t perfectly clear. In the Catalogue o f Ships, fifty ships under

Spercheios valley, but could w ithou t error be co n ­ sidered part o f Achilles’ Phthia, although the lat­

Achilles are m ann ed by “those who dwelled in

ter term strictly applied to Achaia P hthiotis.

Pelasgian Argos, / who inhabited Alos, Alope and T rachis , / and who possessed Phthia and

R e fe r e n c e s a n d S u g g e s te d R e a d in g s

Hellas with its fair w om en: / M yrm id ons they were

called, and

H ellenes and

Ac h a e a n s”

K ir k 1985; V is s e r 1997; V is s e r in L a ta c z 2 0 0 3 , 2 1 9 - 2 4 6

(on II. 2 .6 8 1 - 7 5 9 ) ; Morgan 2 0 0 3 ; D e c o u r t e t a l. 2 0 0 4 .

(2 .6 8 1 -6 8 4 ). In the h istorical period, P hthiotis is

RO BER T L. FOW LER

th e sou th east tetrad o f h istorical Thessaly, Achaia P h th io tis is the m ou n tain ou s region (the O thrys m assif and extensions) lying betw een it and M alis (D e c o u rt et al. 2 0 0 4 , 6 8 6 - 6 8 7). Its population is identified as an ethnos by H erodotus (7 .1 8 5 .2 ) and o th er Classical sources ( “Achaeans o f P hthia” in

co n trad istin ctio n

P eloponn ese). T h e

to

those

location

of

the

m atches

n orth that o f

P h th ia at I l i a d 9 .4 8 4 , where P hoinix is given

T hestor (0éoTop)

(1) (as a patron ym ic only) Achaean, father o f Kalchas ( I I . 1.69). T h esto r’s father Idm on, one o f the Argonauts, was son o f Apollo and an expert diviner (Pherecydw s fr.

108

Fowler;

cf.

Ap.

Rhod.

1 .1 3 9 -1 4 5 ;

see

A r g o n a u t i c a ).

(2 )

(as a patronym ic only) Achaean , father

lordship over the D olop ians (see Dolops (1|) on

o f A lkmaon (2 ) who was killed by S arpedon in

its w estern b o rd er (cf. 1 1 .7 6 6 -7 7 0 ). Trachis, how ­

the Battle over the W all ( I I . 12.394).

ever, is in the S percheios valley, eastward towards L ocris (Locrjans ). Alope is placed by Stephanus o f Byzantium

(3 )

T rojan , killed by Patroklos

( I I . 1 6 .4 0 1 -

4 1 0 ; see W oun d s ).

(s.v., citin g Pherecydes fr. 147

Fow ler; “a city in Thessaly”) o n the n o rth shore o f th e M alian G u lf, w hereas Strab o (9 .5 .8 ) notes the

Thetis

claim o f A lope in Locris; in either case, south o f

o f N ereus , the O ld M an o f th e Sea, m akes

M t. O thrys. Strab o also says th at o p in ion s differ

few appearances in the I liad , yet she has an extraord inary im pact on its plot. Like h er sister

a b o u t th e lo ca tio n o f Alos (H alo s), w hether it was

(© étiç )

T hetis, silver-footed daughter

in L o cris o r n o rth o f M t. O thrys. T h e latter is his­

N er e id s , whose elem ent is the depths o f the

torically well attested (H an sen -N ielsen inventory

h er status in th e divine hierarchy is distinctly sub­

sea ,

no. 4 3 5 ), b u t th e fo rm er appears to be a gram ­

sidiary to the pantheon o f w ide-ranging - and

m arian ’s fancy. Strab o ’s whole section (9 .5 .5 —8)

widely w orshipped - O lym pian deities (c f. I I .

attests th e d ifficu lty o f m atch in g H om er’s ind ica­ tio n s to th e geography o f the historical period,

2 0 .1 0 4 -1 0 6 ; see G ods ); yet she com m an d s their atten tio n and respect o n those m om en tou s o cca­

th ou g h in th e case o f Thessaly vagueness as to its

sions w hen - uniquely, am ong n on -O lym p ian s in

so u th ern lim its was hardly unique to H om er. T h e

the H o m eric poem s - she visits th eir exclusive

id en tity o f P hthia is b o u n d up with th a t o f Hellas,

abode o n th e m ountain’s su m m it (see O lym pos ).

w h ich bord ers it, b ut overlaps with it concep tu ­

T hetis enters the epic, so to speak, via h er son ,

ally (c f. T h u c. 1 .3 .2 -3 ; see H ellenes). T h ey are

Ach illes . W hereas the oth er gods and goddesses

clearly d ifferent a t I l i a d 9 .4 4 7 —484, w here P h o in ix

w ho have offspring o n th e battlefield o f Troy

872

THETIS

(Zeus, Aphrodite, o r Ares, fo r exam ple) are

regret with which Achilles sym pathizes (18.86—

central figures in their ow n right, taking actio n in

9 0 ). T he I l i a d m akes m en tion o f the wedding o f

the co n flict - and beyond it - independent o f their children, T h etis arrives on the scene at her

Peleus and Thetis, at which all the gods celebrated,

son’s behest, seem ingly defined by his vexed role

som e ambiguity, however, about where Thetis

and

Apoi.lo played th e lyre (2 4 .6 2 -6 3 ); there is

in the w ar’s final stage. H is appeal to h er in B o o k

ultim ately resides: she anticipates never again

1, however, reveals a m ore com p lex dynam ic: she

receiving her son hom e “to the house o f his

is the key to his exceptional relationship to Zeus,

father” (1 8 .5 9 -6 0 ), b ut it is from the sea that she

and thus to the shape o f the poem ’s plot, for rea­

rises each tim e, in response to her son’s travails

sons em bedded in a tum ultu ous prehistory o f

(1 .3 5 7 -3 5 9 , 1 8 .3 4 -3 6 , 2 4 .8 2 -8 3 ; O d . 2 4 .4 7 -4 8 ).

divine relations th at the I l i a d represents as now

W hile Pindar ( N e m . 3 and 4 ) recounts a myth,

decisively settled.

also favored by 5 th -cen tu ry vase-painters, in which the union o f m ortal and goddess is achieved

W hen Achilles calls upon his m o th er to convey his request for a for-reaching, calam itou s favor from Zeus - th e prom ise th at th e god will allow

when Peleus grasps T h etis as she undergoes sev­ eral PitoTEUs-like m etam orphoses, there are no

Trojans to wreak d estruction o n the Achaean

discernible traces o f this in the I l i a d . Similarly,

forces, in order to m ake them regret the d ishonor

w hile later m ylhographers (H yginus, F a b u l a e ) take the wedding to be the occasion for E r is

the

done to Achilles - h e rem inds h er th a t she once rescued Zeus from a m utiny against him by other

(“discord”) throw ing her fateful apple, there is no

O lym pians. Here Achilles evokes a m yth recounted

reference to this in the I l i a d , n or to the influential

in Hesiod’s T h e o g o n y , and adverted to elsewhere in the I l i a d , o f the sequence o f cosm ic struggles, in

holding her infant son by the heel as she attem pts

which the earliest divine regim es were supplanted

to im m ortalize him in the Styx.

tale from Rom an epic (Statius, A c h i l l e i d ) o f Thetis

by their progeny; ultimately, the generation o f

By contrast, the I l i a d represents T h etis as sor­

O lym pians was established as the new and lasting

rowfully resigned, if n o t reconciled, to her son’s

order, w ith Zeus suprem e am ong them . Although the incident o f a challenge to Zeus from which

sh ort life - the b rie f com pass o f which she has given him to appreciate. In B o o k 9, when Achilles

Thetis saves him is n o t know n apart from this ref­

form ulates his choice - between abandoning war

erence within the I l i a d , its inclusion may point to

for a long life in his hom eland, o r rem aining at

the poem ’s awareness o f her place in the history o f

Troy, where death and glory will so o n be his

threats o f violent succession in heaven. P in dar’s

po rtion - he attributes to Thetis his awareness o f

(am o n g o th er sources)

these alternatives. T h e poem does n o t p resent this

knows a m ythological tradition in w hich Zeus and Poseidon are rival suitors for the hand o f

as privileged or h ieratic knowledge: whatever she

E ig h th

I s t h m ia n

O de

has m ade known to him about Zeus’ intentions

Pat-

Thetis, then learn that she is destined to bear a son

(1 7 .4 0 8 -4 0 9 ), Achilles explicitly asserts to

greater than his father - in the pattern o f Zeus’

roklos that he has received no prophecy from his

overthrow o f

Kronos; as a result, th e

O d e relates,

goddess m other ( 1 6 .4 8 -5 1 ) to m ake h im prolong

the gods decide to m arry T hetis to a m ortal Peleus - so that the son she bears will be m ortal

his absence from the fighting. Later, when he

and will die in battle. T hu s Achilles’ statem en t to his m other, “because you b o re m e to have a short

T hetis announces the stark certainty th at Achilles’ death will follow upon Hector’s (1 8 .9 4 -9 6 ), his

life, Zeus should g rant m e h o n o r at least” (1 .3 5 2 —

acceptance o f this ou tcom e serves to underscore

3 5 4 ), m ay be th o u g h t to allude to this tradition; in

not h er prescience b u t his loyalty to his friend.

decides to take vengeance on Patroklos’ killer, and

any case, it is com p atible with it - as is Zeus’ w ill­ ingness to be persuaded by the sea nymph.

Am ong the ironies and paradoxes with which the I l i a d ’s representation o f th e goddess m other

W h eth er o r n o t this trad ition about T h etis has a latent presence in the I l i a d , th e poem fore­

with a m ortal child is fraught (encapsulated, for exam ple, at 1 8 . 7 4 - 7 7 ) , is th at T h etis, who is

grounds, w ith h er every appearance, T h etis’ grief

know n to have rescued n o t only Zeus, b u t

at the im pending loss o f h er son; and in B o o k

H

18

e p h a is t o s

( 1 8 .3 9 4 - 4 0 8 )

and

D

io n y s o s

( 6 .1 3 0 -

she links this w ith h er b itter regret at having been

1 3 6 ),

forced to m arry a m o rta l (e.g.,

com m an d Zeus’ assent m ay hasten Achilles’ death.

1 8 .4 2 8 - 4 4 1 )

- a

cann ot save h er son ; indeed, h er pow er to

THOAS H er capacity to shield h im extends, in the I l i a d ,

1 9 8 5 , 1 9 3 ). Z

only to o b tain in g the actual divine shield (and oth er a rm o r) th at will allow him to kill H ector

© io ß r | v .

(see Shield of Achilles) - after w hich h is own end lo o m s close b y —and to providing the golden urn in w hich h is bones, w ith those o f Patroklos, will b e preserved ( I I . 2 3 .9 1 -9 2 ; O d . 2 4 .7 3 -7 9 ). T h e tis’ anguish at being unable to protect Achilles is elaborated in her two m ost developed speeches in th e I l i a d , b o th expressions o f proleptic m ou rn in g fo r h er son (see

Foreshadowing),

on e o f w hich has the features o f a form al, ritual lament (g o o s ) am ong fam ily m em bers -

as

th ough h er child had already died (1 8 .3 5 -6 4 ). T h is suggests yet again how over-determ ined and m uch -elaborated Achilles’ m ortality is in H om eric epic, as does h er m ost extensive speech; the plea she m akes to H ephaistos for a rm o r for her son (1 8 .4 2 8 —4 6 1 ). T h e divine sm ith responds with gratitude for her earlier rescue o f him self, and w ith sym pathy - like T hetis, he can at best p ro­ vide Achilles w ith this defense, this set o f g lo ri­ ous, im perishable artefacts, wrought under the sign o f im m in en t death (1 8 .4 6 2 -4 6 7 ). In the O d y s s e y , Thetis h erself does n o t appear, for, in the chronology o f that poem , h er son is no longer alive. Yet in the

Underworld conversa­ Nekyia), w hen the

tion in O d y s s e y 24 (4 7 - 9 2 ; see shade o f

Agamemnon recounts the afterm ath o f

Achilles’ slaying, he describes at length T hetis’ ter­ rible, unearthly m o u rn in g for h er son, in which n o t only h er sisters b ut the n in e Muses accom pa­ nied h er n o w -tim ely lam en t; and he details the spectacu lar ritual gam es she provided in Achilles’ m em o ry (cf. A i t h i o p i s arg. 4 W est). T h e O d y s s e y thus co n firm s what the I l i a d dram atizes: this in th e en d is the scope and lim it o f T h etis’ power in H om eric epic - to hold h er son ’s funeral.

e n o d o t u s

Thoas ( 0 ó a ç )

read

873

M é c r o iiv in s te a d o f

(1 ) Son o f A n draim on , a suitor

Helen ([H es.] C a t . ff. 198 .9 ), b est o f the Aetolians, skilled w ith th e javelin and in close of

fighting, as well as in speech ( I I . 1 5 .2 8 1 -2 8 4 ), T h o a s is listed in the

Catalogue of Ships as

leader o f the A etolians ( 2 .6 3 9 -6 4 2 ) im m ediately after the Ith acans, led by

O dysseus. His associa­

tion in the trad ition w ith Odysseus reflects the proxim ity o f A etolia to Ithaca. In the I l i a d , T h o a s fights tog eth er w ith the

Epeians; after Peiroos

Odysseus kills D em o k o o n , T h o as kills

(4 .4 9 9 -5 0 4 , 5 2 7 -5 3 5 ) ; T h o as is n am ed with Odysseus am o n g th e heroes casting lots to fight

Hector (7 .1 6 8 ). O n ly w hen Odysseus is w ounded and

obliged

to

withdraw

from

the fighting

(1 1 .4 3 4 —4 88) does T h o a s appear w ithou t him :

Poseidon exh o rts T h o as to fight (1 3 .9 2 ), and im personates T h o a s in a p rotracted exchange w ith Idomeneus (2 1 5 - 2 3 8 ). In th e absence o f Odysseus, T h o as proposes a successful strategy w hen th e G reeks are driven b ack to th eir ships (1 5 .2 8 6 -2 9 9 ). H e is on e o f the h eroes w ho help Odysseus

to

convey

Agamemnon’s gifts to

Achilles (1 9 .2 3 9 ). In his C retan p e r s o n a , Odysseus tries to obtain a cloak fro m

Eumaios (offen ded by a false

A etolian p red iction o f Odysseus’ retu rn ), w ith an a i n o s (cu n n in g story ) a b o u t victim izing T hoas (Sw ifty) at T roy by inventing a dream w hich required a m essenger to go fo r rein forcem ents to the G reek cam p : w hen T h o as dashed o f f o n the useless erran d , th e speaker stole h is cloak to sleep in ( O d . 1 4 .3 7 8 -5 0 6 ; see also

Lies ).

R e fe r e n c e s a n d S u g g e s te d R e a d in g s

Andersen 1982; Marks 2003.

R e fe r e n c e s a n d S u g g e s te d R e a d in g s

Slatkin 1991.

M AUREEN ALDEN LAURA M. SLATKIN

doves” ( I I . 2 .5 0 2 ; cf. Strab. 8 .4 .5 ). Its location

Trojan, killed b y Menelaos ( I I . 16.311). King o f Lemnos (Ü . 1 4 .2 3 0 ), son o f Dionysos an d Ariadne (A pollod. E p i t . 1.9). T h o a s used to b e the ow ner o f th e Sid on ian sil ­ ver krater (see Sidon), set o u t by Achilles as the

a b o u t fo u r kilom eters from

the

first prize fo r th e fo o t-race in the Fu neral Gam es

Perm essus valley is co n firm ed by inscrip tions

fo r Patroklos; it had b een b rou gh t to Lem nos by Phoenicians, and was given to Patroklos by T h o a s’ grand son Euneos as ransom for Lykaon

(2 ) (3 )

Thisbe (© ia ß ii) th e

C ity in B o eo tia referred to in

Catalogue of Ships as “T h isb e w ith m any the sea in

n ea r the m o d ern tow n so nam ed; the Mycenaean an d C lassical T h isb e occu pied different hills (K irk

874

THOAS

(1 ) ( 2 3 .7 4 0 - 7 4 7 ) .

T ho as was the

m ale to stay

o n ly

alive after the slaughter o f the m en o f Lem nos by their w om en: T h o a s’ daugthter

Hypsipile saved

they provide n o clear inform ation about the

sending him

T hracian s them selves. From later sources, how­

his life either by hiding him o r away (A pol. R hod.

by

Apollod.

1 .6 2 0 - 6 2 6 ;

O dyssey contain a num ber o f references to T hrace (9.72, 11.222, 13.301, 2 0.485; O d . 8.361),

ever, we know that two other peoples first attested

1 .9 .1 7 ).

in H om er were in fact o f T h racian origin - the

Kikonf.s and the Sintians (e.g., Strab. 7 frs. 36,

S e e a ls o a h g o n a u t ic a . M A RG A LIT FIN K ELBERG

Thôn

see E

g y p t

H

a n d

diately

after

the

T hracian s

am ong

Troy’s

trans-H ellespon tin e allies { I I . 2 .8 4 6 -8 4 7 ; see Hellespont), and are subsequently referred to in

.

o m e r

43a, 45, 45a, 57). T h e form er are listed im m e­

the O d y s s e y . T h e latter were settlers on the island of

Thoôn (©ócüv)

T

r o ja n

i o m f .d b s

.

son o f

,

P

h a in o p s

T

r o ja n

, k ille d b y

(3 )

T

r o ja n

;

p art O

h a e a c ia n

.

A

’ h on or

1 1 .4 2 2 ).

{II.

W

c h a e a n

a ll

1 2 .1 4 0 ) a n d w a s k ille d

see also

O n e o f the

W

).

o u n d s

who

y o u th s

competitions held

th e

d y s s e u s

{II.

(2 )

( 1 3 .5 4 5 ;

n t il o c h o s

in

Odysseus

storm ed the

with A sio s P

Late

Bronze

Aye, Thracian

world. Strabo (1 3 .5 9 1 ) reports that the city o f Abydos in northw estern Anatolia was occupied by Thracian s after the Trojan War, before its later colon ization by Miletos. T he ancestors o f the Bithynians o n the southern coast o f the Black Sea were o f T h racian origin. In G reek legendary trad ition , the earliest Phrygians m igrated into

(2 )

(4 )

the

Since Phainops had no other male

(1 )

a n t h o s

5 .1 5 2 - 1 5 8 ) .

by A

{ I I . 1.594).

groups spread into m any parts o f the Near Eastern

X

descendants, his kinsm en divided the property {II.

to g e th e r

Lemnos

Follow ing

by

killed with his brother

(1 ), D

(1)

in

S

to o k

c h e r ia

in

Anatolia from

M acedon and T hrace. And a

num ber o f tribal groups called the Saka (Latinized Sacae) who occu pied regions extending from

{O d . 8 .1 1 3 ) .

southeastern Europe across the steppes north o f the Black Sea into C en tral Asia probably also

Thoösa

see P

o l y p h e m o s

originated from T h race. H erodotus (5 .3 ) observes

.

that, w ith few exceptions, the T h racian s’ practices and custom s w ere in all respects sim ilar. B u t while

Thracians (©pijKeç)

T h e T h racian s were a co n ­

glom erate o f tribes o f

there m ay have been a high degree o f cultural

origin

coherence am on g these peoples, n o dou bt reflect­

w ho dw elt in southeastern Europe, roughly w ithin

ing a co m m o n eth n ic background, they were

In

d o

-E

u r o p e a n

the region covered by m od ern Bulgaria, European

never p olitically united. Indeed, it is likely that

Hirkey, an d the n o rth ern m o st part o f G reece. In

“T h racian ” was a generic term used only by the

the west, the Strym o n River flowed through

Greeks,

T h racian territory, in the east, the H ebrus. T he

H erodotus believes th at had they ever united

H aem us and R hodope m o u n ta in ranges were the hom elands o f the fiercest T h ra cia n tribes (M ap

under the rule o f a single person o r developed a

1). T h o se who dwelt o n th e plain were o f a less

ble - for they were th e largest o f all n ation s, after the Indians.

warlike disposition and had peaceful contacts

never b y

th e

T h racian s

themselves.

co m m on purpose, th ey w ould have been invinci­

with G reek colonies in the A egean and Propontis.

T h e T h ra cia n s w ere con q u ered by the Persian

In w ritten sources, T hracian s as a tribal group

King D arius I d u rin g h is cam p aigns o n European

m ake th eir first appearance in the J l m

soil in th e m id -5 1 0 s, an d m u ch o f T h race may have rem ain ed a t least n o m in ally su b ject to

C

a t a l o g u e

,

allies from across the 2 .5 9 5 , (2 )

on

and

w ith

P

T

r o ja n

e l l e s p o n t

( 2 .8 4 4 - 8 4 5 ;

T h e y are led by

cf.

Persia up to th e tim e o f th e cam p aig n o f Xerxes, D ariu s’ son an d successor, o n th e G reek m ain ­

is “busied

land in 480. T h ra cia n s fou gh t o n X erxes’ side

{ h i p p o p o l o i 1 3 . 4 , 1 4 . 2 2 7 ) and they

against the allied G reek states. B u t they regained

e ir o o s

”

H

k a m a s

h a m y r is

h o r s e s

d ’s T

w here they are listed am o n g Troy’s

;

).

th eir unique

are depicted as “h aving th eir

e p it h e t

A

o n the crow n”

th eir in d ep en d en ce follow in g th e final Persian

{ a k r o k o m o i 4 . 5 3 3 ) . B u t th o u g h th e I l i a d and the

defeat in 4 7 9 , an d sh o rtly afterw ards a king

h a ir

THRINAKIA called Teres, ru ler o f th e T h ra cia n O drysae tribe, established a dynasty (T h u c. 2 .2 9 ) whose sover­

875

heifer for th e feast in Telemachos’ honor (3 .4 4 2 -4 5 0 ) (see S acrifice).

eignty u nder Teres’ so n and successor Sitalces

MARY E B B O T T

extended over m u ch o f T h ra ce , fro m the D anu be to the H ellesp ont and the B lack Sea (2 .9 5 -1 0 3 ). T h e O d rysian em pire collapsed in the m id -4th cen tu ry

and

bce

T h ra ce

subsequently su c­

cu m b ed to the forces o f Philip II o f M acedon . T h ro u g h o u t the period o f O d rysian suprem acy, and in the cen tu ries th at follow ed, T h ra cia n society rem ained largely a trib al on e, resisting urbanizatio n , as it did m o st outside influences, until the im pact o f R o m e u p o n th e region at the end

of th e 1st m illenn iu m bce.

T h e words t h r ê n o s “dirge”

occasio n s in H om er to distinguish laments com p osed and p erform ed by specialists from the traditional keening ( g o o s ) that was perform ed by

Hector’s wake Priam brings o n professional dirge-siNGERS {II. 2 4 .7 2 1 , textual d ifficu lties) who lead o ff the per­

the deceased’s fem ale kin. At

wailing; Andromache, Hecuba, and

Fol and Marazou 1977; Hoddinott 1981; Roman 1996; Archibald 1998. TREV O R BRYCE

o f the sons o f

(Gprjvoç)

formance w hile w om en o f Troy respond with

R e fe r e n c e s a n d S u g g e s te d R e a d in g s

Thrasymedes (©pauuptiôr|ç)

th rên os

and t h r ê n e ô “p erform a dirge” are used on two

Thrasymedes is one

Helen then

deliver speeches o f m ourn in g. At the funeral o f

Achilles, the M usf.s perform an antiphonal Nereids, his m oth er’s kin, m oan

dirge w hile the

{ O d . 2 4 .5 8 -6 2 ).

S ee a lso

Songs.

Nestor who fights at Troy. H e does

ANDREW L. FORD

not have an aristeia, but there are suggestions w ithin the epics th at h e is a strong warrior.

(©pivmdr))

Traditional epithets indicate his w arrior status, including “shepherd o f the people” (p o i m e n a l a ô n

Thrinakia

An uninhabited island

II. 9 .8 1 ) and “who stands his ground in war”

is sacred to

{ m e n e p t o l e m o s 10.255, O d . 3 .4 4 2 ), am ong others.

there. Forew arned by b o th

visited by O dysseus { O d . 1 2 .2 6 0 -4 0 2 ). T h e island

Helios, w ho keeps his herd o f cattle T iresias and Kirke,

Antilochos;

Odysseus puts h is crew under stern orders n o t to

together they are called “m en o f renow n” { II.

harm th ese cattle, b u t after bad w eather keeps

1 6 .3 1 7 -3 2 5 , 1 7 .3 7 7 -3 8 3 ). B u t th e best ind ication that Thrasym edes is a steadfast w arrior is th at he

th em stran ded o n the island and Odysseus leaves

is one o f the seven leaders o f the guards during the

All b u t Odysseus are drow ned as a result (see also

He fights alongside his brother

crucial night in which the

Trojans have cam ped

ou t on the plain (9 .8 0 -8 8 ), for these young m en

them unsupervised, they give in to their hunger.

Odysseus’ Companions). T h ere is n o kn ow n etymology fo r th e H om eric b u t th e G reeks associated it with

are responsible for the safety o f the w hole Achaean

T h r in a k ié ,

encam p m ent. Later that night, Thrasym edes and

T r i n a c r i a , “T h ree-corn ered ,” an alternate nam e

Meriones are the only guards w ho are invited to

fo r the island o f Sicily (see T h u c. 6.2). In fact som e A lexandrian ed itors o f th e O d y s s e y “cor­

the council o f G reek leaders to decide w hat plan when

rected” T h r i n a k i é to T r i n a k r i a in th eir texts. T h e

Diomedes and Odysseus arm fo r th eir spying

association o f th e two w ords helped to situate

of

action

to

take

(1 0 .1 9 5 -1 9 7 ),

and

m ission, Thrasym edes supplies D iom ed es with a

H elios’ island w ithin

sword and shield (1 0 .2 5 5 -2 5 7 ). Q u intu s o f

A lexandrian m ap o f Odysseus’ W anderings (see

Sm yrna (1 2 .3 1 9 ) lists Thrasym edes as o n e o f th e

E x o k e a n i s m o s ), w hich centered on Sicily and

w arriors in the

Wooden Horse, w hich also sug­

gests th at he is considered am o n g th e best. T hrasym ed es survives th e war, an d in th e O d y s s e y we see h im at h o m e in

Pylos w ith his

the fram ew ork o f the

southern Italy. In Kirke’s d escrip tion o f T h rin ak ia (1 2.127— 1 3 6 ), there is a sisterh ood o f Nymphs dw elling on th e island, th e daughters o f H elios and

Neaira,

father and o th er siblings (3 .4 1 1 -4 1 5 ). T hrasy­

b u t Odysseus an d his crew d o n o t en coun ter

m edes hold s th e distin ctio n o f sacrificing the

these. Perhaps th ey are th e sam e N ym phs whose

876

T H RIN A K IA

dan cing -flo o rs Odysseus glim pses near his land­ ing po in t (1 2 .3 1 9 ).

agent O and the im pulse con fron t each other: these are the H om eric “decision-scenes” (see also

Decision-Making). M ost typically, the source o f S ee a ls o

Odysseus’ Wanderings.

the im pulse is identified as the t h u m o s ( v e l s i m .) JA M ES ROMM

prospectively by the narrator o r retrospectively by the agent. Since H om er prefers to identify an addressee for all direct speech, and tends to

Thryoèssa

avoid "in terior m onologu e” altogether, the t h u ­

see T hryon.

m o s ’ role in the aetiology o f action makes it a nat­

ural choice as addressee for such decision speeches, Thryon (©púov; also the n am e o f a plant m en­

which are invariably delivered in isolation (som e­

A city in Nestor’s Alphbios River ( II. 2.592; H y m n . A p . 4 2 3 ). T h e T h ry o n o f the Catalogue of Ships is clearly identical with the Thryoèssa o f

tim es artificially contrived) (see Monologues). A paradoxical result is that in fou r conspicuous

tioned in II. 21.351: a rush?) dom ain, the ford o f the

speeches ( I I . U .4 0 1 -4 1 3 , 1 7 .9 0 -1 0 7 , 2 1 .5 5 2 -5 7 2 , 2 2 .9 8 -1 3 4 ) introduced by the narrator as spoken

Nestor’s reminiscences (cf. Strab. 8 .3 .2 4 ), which

t o the t h u m o s , the speaker eventually rejects the

is described as “a steep hill, far away o n the Alpheios, on the border o f sandy Pylos” (1 1 .7 1 1 -7 1 2 ).

first part o f the speech as a bad proposal m ade to him b y the t h u m o s : attrib u tion to the t h u m o s , which takes on hereby a scapegoat role, comes

S ee a lso

only when the proposal is rejected. B u t the t h u m o s

M essenia.

is also often credited w ith im pulses to com m en d ­ able and n oble actions, and can even be the source T h e m o st “activist” co m p o ­

o f inspired insight, and what the narrator identi­

nent o f H o m er’s psychology, th e t h u m o s ’ physical

fies as divine intervention may b e experienced by

nature is not certainly know n; the possibility o f

the hum an recipient as m ovem ent in the t h u m o s

an etym ological lin k w ith Latin f u m u s has en co u r­ aged identifying it w ith th e breath (endorsed by

(see Double Motivation). C om m on to all types is that the impulse o r insight is n o t arrived at by

Clarke 1999, 79, dou bted by C hantraine s.v.); it is

ratiocination. C onsistent with this irrationality is

th u m os

(Sufióç)

often localized in th e p h r e n e s (Jah n 1987, 1 4 -1 5 ),

the t h u m o s ' lack o f speech capability: a positive

which O n ians (1 9 5 1 , 2 3 - 3 0 ) proposed were the

proposal is credited to it only when retrospectively rejected; otherw ise, when a decision -m akin g agent

lungs, b u t the evidence here too is incon sistent (see Mental O rgans). Jahn (1 9 8 7 ) d em o n ­ strated th at the use o f m o st “m en tal organ” words

is felt to need a speech-capable interlocutor, a god is brought on the scene (again in isolation ); para­

(including t h u m o s ) in the oblique cases (e.g.,

digm atic cases are I l i a d 1 .1 8 8 -2 2 2 and O d y s s e y

0upq> "spirited ly”) (1 ) is chiefly determ ined by

2 0 .1 -5 5 ; see further Pelliccia (1995).

m etrical need in form u laic com p o sitio n (see

Formula), and (2 ) exhibits a high degree o f

S ee a lso

Self.

sem antic interchangeability and/or dispensabil­ ity. “ Physicalist” and “literalist” approaches (as in

HAYDEN PELLICCIA

Snell 1953 and still Clarke 1999; cf. C airns 2 0 0 3 b ) are

therefore

unprofitable

and

m isleading.

Passages in w hich th e t h u m o s is given a m ore

(©uÉaTqç) Son o f Pelops, b roth er o f Atreus, father o f Aigisthos; according to I l i a d

Thyestes

p ro m in en t pragm atic role, e.g., in the n o m in a ­

2 .1 0 5 -1 0 8 , “king o f m any cities and o f entire

tive, are less sem antically degraded and im ply a

Argos,” who inherited the royal scepter from

co heren t i f n o t system atic conceptualization.

Atreus and upon

Broadly speaking, the p oet uses the t h u m o s to

Agamemnon. T h e

his ow n

death

left it to

I l ia d thus seem s n o t to be

break hum an motivation dow n in to three stages

aware o f the myth, m ade especially popular in

and two roles (a third can b e added: see below ): if

tragedy, o f the m ortal feud betw een Atreus and

stage (3 ), the perform ance o f actio n X by agent O,

Thyestes, and

is supplied with (1 ), an im pulse to perform X , then it is possible to introd uce a stage (2 ) at w hich

this version o f the m yth was unknow n to him (schol. A 2.106). However, the O d y s s e y them e o f

Aristarchus indeed th ought that

TIME

877

the m urder o f A gam em non by Aigisthos (see esp.

event, in which the description o f events is sub­

4 .5 1 7 -5 1 8 ) suggests such knowledge at least for

je c t to general principles o f speech production

this poem . O n the problem s o f locating Thyestes’

and com prehension. A typical strategy is the

dom ain as envisaged in the O d y s s e y , see H eubeck

statem ent o f the outcom e o f an event before its

et al. ( 1 9 8 8 ,2 2 4 -2 2 5 ).

actual description, as a “preview” or “signpost”: the general statem ent serves as “fram e” for the description to follow, as in the telling o f killings in

Troad at

the lliadic battle. At I l i a d 5 .4 9 -5 8 , for exam ple,

Doloneia, the forces o f the Lycians, Mysians, Phrygians, and the Maeonians were positioned ( II. 10.430). M ostly

often, is preceded by details about the victim ,

know n to the epic tradition for its tem ple o f

an o ut-of-sequen ce statem ent in the victim ’s

Thymbra (©i>pßpr|)

A town in the

w hich, according to the

T hym braean

Apollo (see Troilos). Classical S kamandros fifty stades

T h y m b ra was o n the

from I lion (Strab. 13.1.35).

the killing o f Skamandrios

(2) by Menelaos, as

which turns the previewing an nou ncem en t into biography (see also

Minor Warriors).

C h aracteristic also is the tem poral regression caused by the particle g a r . a given narrative statem ent is made in order to be explained by a

R e fe r e n c e s a n d S u g g e s te d R e a d in g s

subsequent statem ent m odified w ith g a r , the

Hainsworth 1993, 195-196.

explanation qualifies as cause, stated, in storyti me, after the effect. T his is the appropriate strat­ egy for the beginning o f stories, where the

Time t iv e

T im e is an essential co m p o nen t o f

­

necessary background is built up by previewing a

in a n u m b er o f ways. It naturally takes tim e

salient elem ent in the story. T he best exam ple is

n a rra

to tell (o r read) a story, and the story’s events n at­

the beginning o f the I l i a d , where the quarrel, the

urally take place in tim e. H ence, narrative theory

plague in the G reek camp,

m akes a ro u tin e distinction between what we can

h o no rin g

call s t o r y - t i m e (th e tim e o f the telling o f the story)

Achaean cam p are told in reverse chronological

on the on e h and and n a r r a t i v e t i m e (the tim e o f

ord er with cascading gar-clauses ( 1 .8 -1 2 ). T h is is

Agamemnon’s dis­ Chryses, and the priest’s arrival in the

the events in the story) o n the other. T he inevita­

n ot so m uch a d eliberate narrative technique as a

ble yet essential m ism atch betw een the two is

consequence o f story-tim e being the tim e in

obvious in the sim ple fact that a narrator can

which a live narrative unfolds as a flow o f live

spend m uch tim e (o r m any pages) o n the descrip­

spoken language.

tion o f an event th at takes on ly a sh o rt tim e, and

At a higher level, th e entire description o f the

can, conversely, cover a span o f m any years in on e sentence. N o r is any narrato r obliged to follow

quarrel and its im m ediate afterm ath fu nction s as

th e story-events “iron ically”: events m ay b e told

story o f Ach illes ’ w rath resum es and the poem ’s

a preview to the m o m en t in story -tim e w hen the

o u t o f sequ ence fo r any reason, and th e narrative

plot gets underway, in B ooks 8 and 9. It would

m ay

flashback

seem natural to see the description o f the quarrel

(analepsis). A n oth er m ism atch betw een the two

as o u t o f sequence, sin ce m any elem ents in the

tim es is th at w hereas story-tim e is necessarily lin ­ ear (th e a ct o f telling th e story can only m ove

intervening story -tim e (e.g., the C atalogue of S h ip s , the T eich o sco pia , and th e duel betw een Pa ris and M en elaos), belong to earlier stages o f

flash-forw ard

(prolepsis)

and

ahead in tim e), narrative tim e is not: different characters m ay do different things at different

the saga’s narrative tim e. B u t a t n o p o in t is there

tim es. Yet th a t sim ultan eity c a n n o t b e represented

any sign th at th e narrative is m oving b ack in

as such, sin ce going “back in tim e” to narrate a

tim e. N arrative tim e is m oving forw ard ju s t as

sim ultaneou sly happening sequence o f events can on ly be effected by going forw ard in tim e in the

story-tim e.

n arration.

been studied a t least sin ce A r ist o t l e , who

T h e treatm en t o f narrative tim e in H om er has

In H om er, m ism atch betw een story-tim e and

praises H o m er for having m ade a selection o u t

narrative tim e takes place o n a ro u tin e basis and

o f th e to tal tim e fram e o f O dysseus ’ life o r o f

at m any levels. An im p o rta n t facto r here is the

the T rojan W ar ( P o e t . 1 4 5 1 a l6 - 3 5 ) . H om er

fact th at H o m eric narrative is a live storytelling

does n o t reco u n t O dysseus’ en tire biograp hy o r

878

TIME

en tire saga o f th e T rojan War, b u t m akes a m ea n ­

W hen two foregrounded action sequences that

ingful selectio n , resulting in a co h e ren t sequ en ce o f events th at are causally related to ea ch other.

“bran ch o u t” from on e single situ ation are in play

Such a p lot seq u en ce in epic, as A risto tle later

com plicated. Z ielinski holds th at in such cases the

(Z ielinski’s principal case), m atters are more

p oin ts o u t, is d ifferent from tragic p lo ts in th at

audience is expected to conceive o f the two action

ep ic as narrative can represent events as h appen ­

strings as happening sim ultaneously in narrative

ing sim u ltan eou sly ( 1 4 5 9 b 2 6 -7 ). M o d ern sch o l­

tim e, even though they are recounted as occur­

arship has been less clear an d less positive.

ring successively in story-tim e. C elebrated cases include the situ ation in th e I l i a d in which Zeus

Taddäus

Z ielin sk i

(1 8 9 9 - 1 9 0 1 )

started

an

extended discussion in H o m eric scho larship by

sends I ris to

fo rm u latin g th e “ law” that was to ca rry h is nam e.

battlefield and sends

Poseidon to ask him to leave the Apollo to Hector in order

Also know n as th e law o f tem p oral su ccessio n ,

to revive him (1 5 .1 5 0 -1 5 7 ). B u t Apollo does not

Z ielin ski’s “law” specifies th at the o vert rep re­

leave o n his errand until Iris’ is successfully com ­

sen tatio n o f a ctio n s as sim u ltan eo u s is im p o ssi­

pleted (1 5 .2 2 0 ). His m ission is explicitly pre­

ble in H om er, in th at w hat should be h appen ing

sented by Zeus as taking place a f t e r the com pletion

at th e sam e tim e is in fact narrated successively,

o f th at o f Iris, sin ce Poseidon is now said to be

w ith n arrative tim e n o t m ovin g backw ard. T h e

yielding (1 5 .2 2 1 -2 2 2 ). In o th er words, the two

alleged inab ility o f H o m eric n arrative to deal

action strings are consecutive b o th in story-tim e

w ith sim u ltan eity has been subsum ed u n d er th e

a n d in narrative tim e (Patzer 1990, 1 5 6 -1 5 9 ; cf.

general vision o f H om er and a rch aic G reek lit­

Rengakos 1 9 9 5 ,2 1 -2 2 ; Scodel 2008b , 1 1 3 -1 1 4 ).

erature, popular by the m iddle o f the 2 0 th cen ­ tury, as “prim itive,” lacking, in this regard, a

T h e m ost fam ous case is th e “b ranching” o f

influential has been Fränkel 1955; fo r discu s­

Athene’s m ission to Telemachos and Hermes’ to Kalypso during an assembly o f the gods on Olympos at the beginning o f the Odyssey (1 .8 1 -

sio n , see Rengakos 1995, 1 0 -1 4 ; B akker 2 0 0 2 ,

9 5 ). N ot only does H erm es w ait until Athene is

developed and ab stra ct n o tio n o f “tim e ” (esp.

1 1 - 1 3 ,2 7 - 2 8 ) . In its strongest form , Z ielinski’s “law” is unten­

finished and back o n O lym pos; the divine assem ­ bly is duplicated and H erm es is dispatched during

able. T here is sim ultan eity in H om er, m ost fre­

the second o n e ( 5 .2 9 -4 2 ) w ithout the first assem ­

quently in the way in w hich an a ctio n can be

bly being acknowledged. U nlike th e case in I l i a d

presented as occu rrin g against the background o f

15, there is no causal relation betw een th e com ­

o th er activity. Killings in the battle, for exam ple,

pletion o f the first errand an d th e beginning o f

are not explicitly m arked as o ccu rrin g sim ultan e­

the second. A n oth er difference is the sheer length

ously, b u t they are clearly m ean t to be seen against

o f th e narrative section s involved (A thene’s errand

a w ider background o f m ass fighting (w hen the

and its consequences occu py fou r b o o k s). It seems

narrator “zoom s in” o n a p articu lar killing, the

plausible to assum e th at sim ultan eity o f the two

duels surround ing it are understood to happen

actio n strings is poetically desirable, b ut in prac­

at th e sam e tim e; Bakker 1997b, 6 9 - 7 0 ) . Sim ilarly,

tice hard to accom plish in a way that satisfies

in transitions betw een narrative episodes the pre­

readers who have been exposed to the tem poral structu re o f th e m od ern novel. A fter fou r books

vious a ctio n is recapitulated in a clause w ith the particle m e n plus an im perfect verb as the b ack­

o f narrative and a considerable am o u n t o f story­

groun d against w hich the new actio n sequence,

tim e it is difficult to im agine, at the begin n in g o f

startin g in a clause w ith d e o r a u t a r w ith the

B o o k 5, a shifter such as “M eanw hile, back on

aorist, is presented (e.g., I I . 20 .1 —4, d>ç o l pèv . ..

O ly m p o s ...” T h e sheer length o f the units and

Bü jpijaavro . .. Zeiiç ô è ... xéXeucre “T h u s they o n

th e physical reality o f story-tim e m akes th e atten­

th eir part were arm in g them selves . . . , b u t o n his

tio n to narrative tim e th a t can b e taken for granted

part Zeus, . . . he ordered”; see Rengakos 1995,

in w ritten novelistic narrative problem atic. The

3 0 ). A slightly m o re com p lex case is 1 5 .3 9 0 -3 9 7 ,

second divine assem bly in the O d y s s e y reads, at

w ounded

Patroklos’ situ ation (carin g fo r th e Eurypylos [ 1 ]) is presented against the

th at is frequently encountered in spoken dis­

background o f battle actio n th at started fou r

course; a constituent uttered earlier in an extended

b o o ks earlier (see S codel 2 0 0 8 b , 1 10).

sentence is repeated, against the rules o f w ritten

where

m acro-level, as a “repair m echanism ” o f the kind

tin

syntax, n o t so m uch because o f the constraints caused by th e “on lin e” production o f the sentence,

879

that attracts others’ respect, their claim to receive that respect, and the respect itself.

b u t in a deliberate strategy to accom m odate the flow o f the discourse to the cognitive needs o f lis­

S ee a lso

Honor.

teners. N arrative (represented) tim e is im portan t in H om er, i f on ly because the I l i a d and the O d y s s e y

R e fe r e n c e s a n d S u g g e s te d R e a d in g s

have, as we have know n since A ristotle, distinctive

Adkins 1960b; Riedinger 1976; van Wees 1992, esp. 69-77.

plots. B u t the m ediu m , i.e., speech in perform­ ance, in w hich the story’s tem poral relations have

DOUGLAS CAIRNS

to be presented, im poses constrain ts to which the treatm en t o f narrative tim e has to b e adapted.

(Kaaaixepoç; chem ical sym bol Sn)

T h is is neith er prim itive n o r a typically “epic” sty­

Tin

listic feature, b u t a natural consequence o f the

G reek w ord for tin is o f unknow n origin and does n o t seem to o ccu r in the

way in w hich the story is told.

The

Linear 15 tablets (fo r full

discussion o f words for tin, see M uhly 1973, S ee a ls o

Narrative.

2 4 0 - 2 4 7 ,4 0 6 - 4 1 1 ) . T h ere are only ten references EG BE R T J. BA K KER

to tin in H om er, all in the I l i a d and always as a separate m etal. T h ere is n o reference to tin being added to copper in ord er to m ake bronze. N either

“value” o r “price” (e.g., H y m n . C e r . 1 3 2 ), a sense

the Linear B tablets n o r the H om eric poem s express any interest in tin as the vital ingredient,

w hich surfaces in H o m er in the app licatio n o f

along w ith copper, in th e prod uction o f b ron ze -

t i m ê (Tipf|, “h o n o r”)

T i m e is regular G reek for

the ad jective t i m ê e i s to valuable o b je cts ( I I .

a rem arkable situ ation , given the im p ortan ce o f

18.4 7 5 ) and in references to paying t i m ê ( 3 .2 8 6 -

bron ze for the Aegean w orld, ca. 1 6 0 0 -7 0 0 bcb.

289, 4 5 9 ; O d . 2 2 . 5 7 ) in the form o f co m p en sa­ tion. O ne can distinguish two senses o f t i m ê in

T in appears as on e o f the m etals, along with

H om er. It can denote the quality o f an individual

in fash ion in g the arm or o f

b ronze, gold, and silver, used by

Hephaistos Achilles, especially 1 8 .4 6 8 -6 1 7 ; see Shield of

to w hich o th ers respond (roughly “status”: "th e

the fam ous shield ( I I .

ab stract, im m aterial ‘value’ th a t on e has in on e’s

Achilles). T in was used for inlay work (on

ow n and o th ers’ eyes”: van W ees 1992, 6 9 ). T h is

Achilles’ shield: 18.565, 574; also on the corslet

is its sense at I l i a d 9 .4 9 8 , w here t i m ê is coupled

and shield o f Agamemnon: 11.25, 34 ; as well as

w ith

aretê

(excellence) and b i ê (stren gth) as

in

d eco ratin g

the

co rslet

of

Asteropaios,

q u alities in w hich gods surpass m ortals. B u t it

strip p ed from h is dead b od y by A chilles, 2 3 .5 6 0 -

also denotes the reco g n itio n th at is conferred by

5 6 2 ). T h e five-fold layers o f the shield o f Achilles

o th ers (w hat van W ees 1992 calls “deference”),

in clu d ed tw o in n er layers o f tin (2 0 .2 7 1 ). In this

T hetis begs Zeus to favor the Trojans “u n til the Achaeans h o n o r [tíoüjciv] m y son and increase h im in t i m ê , ” or 2 3 .6 4 9 , w here Nestor thanks Achilles for

ob viou sly fairy -tale d e scrip tio n , gold and tin are

en tire d e scrip tio n o f the shield o f A chilles is n o t

rem em b erin g “th e t i m ê w hich it is seem ly for

to be taken to o seriou sly as h istorical reality.

as at I l i a d 1.510, w here

[h im ]

to

receive

( t e t i m ê s t h a i ),

am o n g

the

A chaeans.” T h is n o tio n o f t i m ê as a response o f

p resen ted as hard m etals, capable o f stopping the th ru st o f the spear o f

Aeneas. Clearly, the

Even chariots are d escrib ed as havin g b een d eco ra ted w ith gold an d tin (2 3 .5 0 3 ).

oth ers is regularly expressed by th e verbs xieiv

T h e o n ly o b je cts actually m ade o f tin , in the

and Tipftv. B u t th e tw o senses are inextricab ly linked, n o t o n ly b ecause th e t i m ê awarded by

H o m eric poem s, are th e greaves o f Achilles

oth ers respond s to an d en h ances th e t i m ê th a t is

a great deal o f critical discussion, fo r tw o reasons:

(1 8 .6 1 3 ,2 1 .5 9 2 ). T h e fo rm e r passage has received

a q u ality o f th e individual, b u t also because each

(1 ) it was a cherished b e lie f th at m etal greaves

regularly im plies th e other. At O d y s s e y 8 .4 7 9 -4 8 1 ,

were unknow n in B ronze Age G reece, so that

for exam ple, bards are said to have a share o f t i m ê

references to tin greaves, bronze greaves, even to “well-greaved Achaeans” (see Weapons and Armor), all had to be later intrusions in the text,

and A iD Ô s, b ecause o f the skill the

Muses have

granted th em : th eir t i m ê is at o n ce the quality

880

tin

and had no co n n ectio n with the M ycenaean

Bronze Age, even i f we still have m uch to learn

world (L o rim er 1950, 250; still in Stubbings

regarding sources o f the m etal.

1962c, 5 0 5 -5 0 6 ) ; and (2 ) n o w arrior would ever

There has been m uch discussion over the past

have gone into battle w earing a pair o f tin greaves,

fifty years regarding sources o f tin for the Bronze

even if they had been m ade by Hephaistos.

Age Aegean, indeed for the entire Bronze Age

Regarding the first p o in t, the archaeological evi­

world. There are no sources o f tin in the Aegean

dence for M ycenaean plate arm o r has changed

(for all aspects o f this question, see Muhly 1973,

dram atically in recent years, ever since the co m ­

2 4 8 -2 6 1 , 4 1 1 -4 2 2 ; 1985; 2008, 71). H. L. Lorimer

plete suit o f bronze body arm or, dating to the late

firm ly believed in the presence o f tin deposits in

15th century bc e , was discovered at D endra

the vicinity o f Kirrha (P hocis), even accepting

(Ä ström et al. 1977). In 1985 G. S. Kirk could state

argum ents that such deposits were one o f the

that “m any exam ples o f Late Bronze Age m etallic

sources o f the wealth o f M ycenae (Lorim er 1950,

greaves have been fo u n d ” (3 1 4 ; see also Catling

5 5). All such speculation was put to rest by Sylvia Benton (1964). Lorimer, followingG. A. Wainwright

1977). As for early Iron Age greaves, A. M . Sn o d ­ grass (1 9 9 9 , 137) argues th at “T hey are now revealed as probably the oldest item o f the p an o­

and C. F. A. Schaeffer, also believed in alluvial tin to

ply to be adopted or revived in Greece,” but there

be found in the beds o f the rivers com ing down from the Kesrwan m ountains in Lebanon, near

is still no evidence fo r Bronze A ge-rro n Age co n ­

Bybios, deposits im portant enough to furnish a

tinuity (Snodgrass 1971b, 4 8 ). T here is n ot m uch to be said o n the second po in t, for no tin greaves

reason for early Cretan relations with Byblos (Lorim er 1950, 4, 55). Reference to such deposits

have ever been discovered and it is unlikely that

has a long scholarly history (see Brown 1969, 88,

such o bjects ever existed. T his was fully realized

2 16). No geological evidence has ever been pro­

by A r isto tle , who explains A chilles’ greave made o f “n ew -w rought tin” ( I I . 2 1 .5 9 2 ) as produced by the sam e conven tion o f speech that m akes the

duced in support o f the existence o f such deposits.

m ixture o f wine and water to b e called ju st “w ine”

co nn ection s with the East, extending as far east as

( P o e t . 2 5 146 1 a 2 8 ).

All recent scholarship on Aegean Bronze Age and early Iron Age sources o f tin has emphasized C en tral Asia. A detailed review o f this m atter has

O b je cts m ade o f tin are kn ow n fro m the

now been presented by Gillis and Clayton (2008;

Bronze Age Aegean (an d fro m Europe; Prim as

see also Pare 2 0 0 0 ). T h e re is still a case to b e made

2 0 0 3 ) and new fin d s are n ow bein g m ade on a

fo r th e im p ortan ce o f W estern European tin

regular basis. T h e tin b ra celet fro m Early Bronze

deposits, especially those in Brittany and Cornwall

II T h e rm i (Pare 2 0 0 0 , 9 ) was, fo r m any decades,

(fo r w hich see P enhallurick 1986, and the review

an en igm atic o b je ct. In recen t years several o b jects m ade o f tin , in clu d in g a tin ing ot, have

by M uhly 1987). T h e case for im p ortan t conn ec­

been id entified fro m N eopalatial C rete (G illis

goes back at least to the fundam ental b ook by

and C layton 2 0 0 8 , 134; T zachili 2 0 0 8 , 2 0 ). C lay

Hawkes (1 9 4 0 , esp. 3 7 9 -3 8 0 ; see also Harding

vases w ith an exterio r surface o f tin (presum ably in im ita tio n o f silver) have b een id entified fro m

as significant from the tim e th at the m aterial was

several sites in th e G reek m ain lan d an d a m ag­ n ifice n t carved ivory c o sm etic pyxis fro m a

trade in tin m ust have been equally im portant,

M ycenaean ch a m b er to m b o n th e n o rth slope o f

although it c an n o t be docum ented, at least at the

the A then ian A eropagus (ca . 1 4 0 0 bc e ) was lined

present tim e. W h at does survive and can be doc­

w ith tin , in o rd er to p ro tect th e ivory from the

um ented is a series o f single-handled, often

tion s between M ycenaean G reece and Europe

19 84). Trade in B altic a m b er has been recognized discovered in the Sh aft Graves o f M ycenae, but

co n ten ts o f the pyxis (M ad d in et al. 1977, 4 2 -4 3 ,

ribbed cups o f gold from C en tral Europe and

Ills. 19 a -b , 2 0 ). T h e m o st spectacu lar recent find

So u th ern England that have rem arkable parallels

has to be the discovery o f a b o u t a to n o f tin

with gold cups

ingots fro m the U lu b u ru n shipw reck, dating to

from

M ycenaean

Greece. A

the late 14th cen tu ry b c e , m any bein g in the

detailed publication o f these cups, made both o f gold and o f am ber, m akes no m en tion o f any pos­

distinctive oxhide shape (Y alçin 2 0 0 5 , 5 7 2 -5 7 5 ) .

sible conn ection with the Aegean (N eedham et al.

All this evidence ind icates th a t tin was available

2 0 0 6 ). For a m ore convincing historical back­

in som e q uan tity th ro u g h o u t th e Aegean Late

ground one m ust turn to Stuart Piggott (1965).

TIR YNS

Piggott documented the case for what he called the emergence of “High Barbarian Europe” and the connections between these new European cultures and Mycenaean Greece (Piggott 1965, 134—142). Tin from northwestern Europe still remains the most attractive source o f tin for the bronze industries of Late Bronze Age and Early Iron Age Europe. JAM ES D . MUHLY

Tiresias (Teipeaír|ç) The blind Theban prophet, whose shade Kirke ordered O dysseus to summon from Hades for advice about his journey home (Od. 10.490-495, 11.90-99, 23.322-323; see Nekyia). Tiresias, alone of the dead, was allowed to retain his mental faculties (10.494-495; see Afterlife ). His prophecies, in fact, concern Odysseus’ wider fate (Kirlce later advises him on his route); he accounts for Poseidon’s hostility, warns him against harming Helios’ cattle on T hrinakia, which is pivotal for the manner o f his return, and foresees his future in Ithaca, including his revenge on the Suitors, his additional journey and the eventual appeasement o f Poseidon, and his death in prosperous old age (11.100-149, 23.248-253, 269-284; cf. Telbgony arg. 1-2 West). Tiresias’ reputation as a prophet is assumed in the Odyssey, perhaps also the story of how he acquired his prophetic powers and blindness (Melampodia, [Hes.] ff. 275 M-W); Tiresias was changed into a woman after wounding two snakes which he had encountered mating on Mt. Kyllene; he was eventually changed back into a man after a second encounter with them. As a result of this experience, he was summoned to arbitrate in a dispute between Zeus and H era as to whether men or women derived greater pleasure from lovemaking. Tiresias found in favor of women, for which judgment Hera punished him with blind­ ness, but Zeus granted the gift of prophecy in compensation. He lived for seven generations, from the time o f Kadmos ([Hes.] ff. 276 M-W), and died after drinking at the spring Tilphoussa, near Haliartos, while fleeing the destruction of T hebes by the Epigoni (Apollod. 3.7.3; Paus. 9.33.1). Tiresias was prominent in later tragedy. See also T heban Cycle. K . JAN ET WATSON

881

Tiryns (Típuvç) In the I liad Tiryns, described as “mighty in walls,” belonged to the kingdom of D iomedes , which encompassed much of the Argolid, and included Argos, Asine , Hermione, Troizen , and Epidauros (II. 2.559-561), as well as areas outside it, such as Aigina (see C atalogue of Sh ips ). Rather similarly to what is found in the heroic tradition, the Mycenaean Argolid was domi­ nated by Mycenae and Tiryns, two large forti­ fied centers surrounded by towns. Each may have been the center of a polity, and a major adminis­ trative center, as seen in the remains of their pal­ aces, and Linear B documents. The rise of rulership in Tiryns was rather similar to that of Mycenae, with a palace built on top of the acro­ polis during Late Helladic I1IA. The wave of destruction that had swept through most parts of Mycenaean Greece at the end of LH IIIB1 did not spare the Argolid sites, yet Tiryns seem to have faired much better afterwards than Mycenae. During LH IIIB2 an ambitious building plan resulted in a magnificent palace in the upper cit­ adel, and a heavily fortified lower citadel. Another major engineering project which had taken place during the late palatial era was the building of the dam of Kofini, which enabled the develop­ ment o f settlement in the lower town without the risk of flooding. The upper citadel and the LH IIIB palace were destroyed by fire at the end of LH IIIB, possibly by the same earthquake that struck Mycenae. Surprisingly, the loss of palatial central authority and literate administration did not result in a decline of the size of the site, but quite the oppo­ site. The population of Tiryns significantly grew in LH IIIC, perhaps as a result of the arrival of refugees from other parts o f the Argolid, through synoecism, or through the building activities of elites breaking the bonds o f palatial constraints. As a result, Tiryns became the largest site in Greece, with an area of 25 hectares. During this time, the lower town and lower citadel were fully built, yet the upper citadel was left almost empty o f buildings. This area, with the ruins o f the pal­ ace, was laden with meaning and memories o f the palatial past. Indeed, LH IIIC’s claims to palatial power are evident in the construction of Building T within the ruined megaron o f the LH IIIB palace, and a reuse o f the Mycenaean throne base in the same building. The Tiryns treasure,

882

TIR YNS

a collection o f bronze vessels and implements, as well as a rich array of jewelry found in 1915, may manifest a similar claim for palatial ancestry. Although redated to LH IIIC by Maran (2006), it contained early Mycenaean (LH II) signet rings, and other objects datable to both LH IIIB and LH IIIC. It may have been the heirloom collection of one of the ruling families of the 12th century. The old objects carried with them stories relating to the family history, thus carrying messages of the great ancestry of the family and supporting claims for palatial lineage. Tiryns continues to be occupied throughout most, if not all, of the Dark Age, yet, similarly to other sites of the Argolid, it was of a more ephemeral nature. Dark Age remains included Submycenaean strata and burials. Post-Mycenaean structures were found in the recent excavations by Maran of the lower town, including the remains of a Late G eometric potter’s quarter and an Arch aic cult bothros, indicating that cult activities of the 1st millennium bce may have taken place in the immediate surrounding of the acropolis. Archaic inscriptions concerning various ritual acts, incised on the exterior o f the disused Mycenaean water system, provide evidence o f the existence of a sovereign popular body (damos) and an a s s e m b l y (aliaia) in the years around 600 b c e and suggest an independence from Argos during these years. The independence of Tiryns in the later Archaic period is also shown by its willingness and ability to contribute to the defense of Greece against the Persians, contrary to the position of Argos, by sending a contingent to Plataia (Hdt. 9.28). For this act of defiance the city was destroyed by the Argives soon afterwards (Paus. 5.23.2-3). See also Archaeology, Homeric . References and Suggested Readings Whitley 1988; Hall 1995; Maran 2006; Maran and Papadimitriou 2006. A SSA F YASUR-LANDAU

Titanos (Títavoç, "white earth”) A mountain in T hessaly, in the domain o f Eurypylos (1), referred to in the Catalogue of S hips as “the white summits of Titanos” (II. 2.735). Strabo (9.5.18) placed it near Arne in the northeastern

part of the western Thessalian plain, but the iden­ tification is uncertain. References and Suggested Readings Kirk 1985, 234-235.

Titans (Tirf|veç) The collective name for the generation of gods before the Olympians. Queries remain about the etymology o f the name (West 1966, 133, 209, 210). The Titans are the children of Earth (G aia ) and Sky (Ouranos). Much of what we know about them comes from Hesiod ’s Theogony, rather than from the Homeric poems. Hesiod provides an account of their birth and suppression by their father (126138, 154-160), then the defeat of Sky (163-210), and their monumental violent struggle with the Olympian gods (the “Titanomachy," 617-719). There are twelve o f them, six males and six females, whom Hesiod lists in the following order: O cean, Koios, Kreios, Hyperion , Iapetos, Theia, R hea, T hem is , Mnemosyne, Phoibe, Tethys, and K ronos (note that the males are first, apart from Kronos). The placement of Kronos last anticipates his centra! role in over­ throwing his father Sky, whom he castrates with a sickle (173-182). Kronos in turn is overthrown by his youngest son Zeus in the Titanomachy and then incarcerated in Tartaros with his defeated allies (Th. 729-733, 811-819). The focus of attention in Homer is fixed firmly on the Olympian generation of gods under the hegemony of Zeus, rather than those who went before. The collective name “Titans” is used only once in the whole o f Homer, and the individual Titan gods are referred to only in passing. At Iliad 14.271-276 the god Sleep (Hypnos ), whose serv­ ices are being called upon by Hera, tells her to swear a great oath that she will fulfill her part of the bargain. In this context he refers to “the gods that are below with Kronos” (14.274). Hera duly utters her oath “by all the gods, those who are below in Tartaros [únoTaprapíooç], who are called Titans.” Earlier in the Iliad Zeus, in a speech to Hera, alludes to the joyless existence o f two of the Titans, Iapetos and Kronos, under the earth with neither sunlight nor winds, but with “deep Tartaros around them” (8.477—481). Other Titans from Hesiod’s list are referred to in the Homeric poems, although not as allies of

TL EPOLEMOS

Kronos and Iapetos in the violent struggle against the Olympians. These are Ocean, who flows around the edge of the world and is father of all the other rivers (note esp. II. 14.200-207, 301311; 18.607-608; 21.195-197; Od. 10.508-515; 11.13); Hyperion, as an epithet of, or father of, the S un (fi. 8.480, 19.398; Od. 1.8 and 24; 12.133, 176, 263, 346, 374); Rhea, as wife and sister of Kronos, and mother of six Olympians (II. 14.198210,15.185-199); Them is, as a goddess associated with divine gatherings (II. 15.87-99, 20.4-5; Od. 2.68-69); and Tethys as wife of Ocean (II. 14.200207,301-311). C H RISTO PH ER JOHN M ACKIE

Titaresios (TiTapqaioç; also known as Titaressos) An unidentified tributary of the Peneios, whose waters do not mingle with those of the Peneios but “float on the top of them like olive oil” (II. 2.751-754). In the Catalogue op S hips , Titaresios is presented as part of the territory of Gouneus, the leader of tribes from the region around D odona in northwest Greece (2.748750), but Strabo (9.5.19) identified it with the Europus, which joins the lower Peneios in eastern T hessaly.

883

Sat. 48.8) and resembles a folktale motif (And­ erson 2000,136-137). BRUNO C U R R IE

Tityos (T ituóç) A giant son o f Gaia (of Z eus and Elaradaughter o f Orchomenos [see M inyan) in later tradition: Pherecyd. fr. 55 Fowler; Apollod. 1.4.1). O dysseus saw him in the Underworld bearing eternal punishment for his assault upon Leto at Panopeus (Od. 11.576581); he was subsequently killed by Leto’s chil­ dren (Pind. Pyth. 4.90-91; Apollod. 1.4.1). The story suggests Tityos’ location in Phocis, and indeed his tomb was shown at Panopeus in later times (Paus. 10.4.5). However, earlier in the O dyssey (7.321-324) Tityos is described as dwelling in Euboea , where he was visited by R hadamantys and where he received a hero cult (Strab. 9.3.14). Tityos’ death and punish­ ment were popular subjects in visual arts and in later tradition (for a fuller account, see Frazer 1921, vol. 1,28-29). See also Afterlife . margalit finkelberg

margalit finkelberg

Tithonos (Tifltüvóç) Son of the Trojan king Laomedon, brother of Priam , descended from Zeus (II. 20.215-237); lover of Eos and father by her of Memnon and Emathion (Hes. Th. 984985). According to the Homeric H ymn to Aphrodite (218-38), he was snatched up by Eos and made immortal, but not unaging, by Zeus at Eos’ request; Eos then shunned him as he gradually withered (cf. Sappho ff. 58 Voigt). The day-breaking formula (?), “Eos was stirring from her bed by the side of proud Tithonos (II. 11.1 = Od. 5.1), however, implies that Eos and Tithonos remain lovers forever (Faulkner 2008a, 270). Tithonos’ transformation into a cicada (schol. II. 11.1; Hellanicus ff. 140 Fowler) is not attested in early epic (Faulkner 2008a, 276). Parallel are the other “snatched” lovers of deities: Phaethon, K leitos (2), G anymedes (Boedeker 1974, 71). The story of Tithonos’ aging immortality is comparable to the Cumean Sibyl (Ov. Met. 14.129-153; Petron.

Tlepolemos (TXqnóXepoç) In the C atalogue of S h ips , is identified as a son of H erakles and leader o f the Rhodian contingent (II. 2.653670); in battle, he wounds Sarpedon , but is then killed by him (5.628-629). Tlepolemos’ birth to Astyocheia , who had been captured by Herakles in Ephyra , and his flight (from the Peloponnese) to R hodes after he murdered a relative are told by Homer (2.653-670) in a story which explains how Tlepolemos was born on the mainland, but led an island contingent to Troy. Pindar tells the same story with some variations (Ol. 7.20-33). On the island itself, Tlepolemos was regarded as the founder of Rhodes, honored with games. See also Likymnios . References and Suggested Readings LIMC 8.41 (Kahil); Higbie 1995,185-186,2005. CAROLYN HIGBIE

884

TM ES IS

Tmesis Materialization in the form of two sepa­ rate words of what would be a compound verb in Classical Greek, as in t ò v K a i Mqpióvr|ç npórepoç npòç gí>0ov ê£L7T£ (II. 13.306), where the verb would appear as itpooetiTE in Classical Greek. The phenomenon is called tmesis “cutting,” "separa­ tion” by ancient grammarians because from the perspective of later Greek the phenomenon is a splitting of a unit. However, comparative linguis­ tics shows that compound verbs arose from the amalgamation of independent adverbs/prepositions (the later “preverbs”) and verbs, so it is likely that epic Greek has simply preserved the original stage. It has been argued that Homer here reflects a pre-Mycenaean state of the l a n g u a g e , since there are no certain attestations of tmesis in M y c e n a e a n Greek, but in view of our scanty knowledge of Mycenaean Greek, and in particu­ lar of the verbal system, it must remain unclear for how long tmesis was acceptable in the vernac­ ular. The position of the preverb in tmesis is not entirely free: it must occur before the verb (most often sentence-initially or in front of the direct object), or else directly behind it, in which case it is accentuated in our texts. Tmesis became a distinct feature o f epic style. The line cited above could equally well have been written t ò v Kai Mqplóvqç rtpótepoç pOÕov rtpoaéeme. This means that tmesis must have been desirable for the poets, beyond the require­ ments o f the m e t e r . In other words, tmesis is perhaps not so much o f a misnomer when we consider the phenomenon synchronically within the K u n s t s p r a c h e . See also Syntax. DAG TRYG V E TR U SLEW HAUG

Tmolos (Tjit&oç) A mountain in Lydia, modern Boz Daghi (2,100 m high). The Maeonians dwelt under the “snowy Tmolos” and the city Hyde was located there (II. 2.866,20.385).

Tools

see U tensils and T ools.

Trachis (Tpqx‘Ç> from trakhus “rough”) A city in T hessaly (Phthiotis); mentioned in the C atalogue of S hips as part o f the contingent

led by A c h i l l e s (II. 2.682). Trachis was located by the Malian Gulf, south of the delta of the S p e r c h e i o s , about five miles from Thermopylae (Hdt. 7.199; Strab. 9.4.13). The Spartan colony Heraclea Trachis was founded nearby in 426 b c e . Trachis was closely associated with the m y t h o f the death of H e r a k l e s (see esp. Sophocles’ Trachiniae).

Trade

see E c o n o m y .

Tragedy and Homer Since antiquity, the Hom­ eric epics have been recognized as important precursors of tragedy. Aristotle ’s observation in the Poetics that the Epic Cycle was the source of many tragic plots (23.I459b4—7; see H o m e r i c a ) is confirmed by the surviving and lost plays of the major tragedians. Aeschylus, who reportedly said that his plays were “slices from the great banquets of Homer” (Ath. 8.347e), may have initiated tragedy’s particular debt to Homer viewed as the author exclusively o f the I l i a d and the O d y s s e y : Aeschylus’ lost plays included trilogies that treated the subject matter o f both of those poems (Herington 1985, 138144). Tragedies based on Homeric material also freely departed from Homer (Aeschylus’ Myrmidons depicted Achilles and Patroklos as lovers) and were influenced by other, inter­ vening poets as well (Aeschylus’ Oresteia looks back to the Agamemnon story as told in the Odyssey, but also reflects the long poem on the same subject by the lyric poet Stesichorus). Sophocles, who was considered the most Homeric o f the tragedians or “the tragic Homer” (Diog. Laert. 4.20; cf. Vit. Soph. 20), especially favored plots drawn from the Troy legend, but seems to have avoided retelling the events o f the Iliad and the Odyssey directly. His two surviving Trojan War plays dramatize events later than those of the Iliad, while pointedly reworking themes and episodes from the Iliad and the Odyssey: Ajax’ duel with Hector and Hector’s meeting with Andromache in the Ajax, the choice of Achilles and the adventures of O dysseus in the Philoctetes. While Euripides found a model in the Odyssey for the romance plots of his later plays, he also went out o f his way to tell an un-Homeric version of the Troy

TRAN SLATIO NS

story in the Helen. The two extant plays whose plots follow the Homeric epics most closely lie outside the mainstream of tragedy as generally understood: the Rhesos, based on Book 10 of the Iliad (D oi.oneia ) and doubtfully attributed to Euripides since antiquity; and Euripides’ Cyclops, based on Book 9 of the Odyssey, which, as a satyr play, was performed alongside tragedy but con­ tained an element of parody that promoted closer dependence on earlier works. Homer’s influence on tragedy is also evident in the areas of diction, phraseology, and small-scale allu­ sions, many o f which echo Homeric sim ii .es (Garner 1990, 22-24); in addition, the Homeric flavor o f tragedy owes something to the two gen­ res’ common dependence on other poetic forms, notably lament. Tragedy often evokes epic to express a sense o f difference as well as of affinity, using Homeric characters, situations, and lan­ guage to measure the distance between a heroic world populated by outsized, fiercely individual­ istic heroes and democratic 5th-century Athens, where tragedy was developed and performed (Vernant and Vidal-Naquet 1988). More broadly, ancient and modern critics have seen both the essential spirit and the mimetic form of tragedy as inspired by Homer. Fourth-century writers, including Isocrates (2.48-49), Plato (Resp. 10.595b-c, 10.598d-e, 10.605d-e), and Aristotle, often referred to Homeric and tragic poetry as a single category. Aristotle’s teleological vision promoted a view of Homer as having anticipated tragedy in sev­ eral respects, including seriousness of subject matter {Poet. 4.1448b34-39), the construction of highly concentrated plots (8.145lal6-35, 23.1459a30-b2), and the downplaying of narra­ tion in favor o f direct speech by characters (24.1460a5—11)- Modern critics have drawn on the idea of the tragic to interpret Homer, high­ lighting a vision o f the human condition that the epics, and particularly the Iliad, share with many tragedies. Homer’s stress on the limita­ tions o f human understanding, the certainty of death , the relentlessness o f the gods in impos­ ing conflict and hardship, and the efforts of humans to find consolation in the face of con­ stant troubles, have seemed to many to define an outlook that is central to Greek thought and quintessentially tragic, no matter what the actual genre in which it is expressed.

885

See also R eception , Archaic and Classical. References and Suggested Readings For an account o f the birth of tragedy that stresses the contribution o f Homer, see Herington (1985, esp. 128129,133-136, and Appendix IX for a list o f ancient tes­ timonial; for allusions to Homer in tragedy, see Garner (1990); for analyses ofSophodes’ reworking ofHom eric material, see Easterling (1984), Farmer (1998), Schein (2006). Gould (1983) assesses the ongoing relevance o f Homer to the conditions o f the 5th century, while Seaford (1994) stresses the discontinuities between the Homeric world and the later city-state in which tragedy developed. The tragic qualities o f the Iliad are explored in Rutherford (2001) and Redfield (1994), o f both Homeric epics in Rinon (2008). sheila murnaghan

Translations The I l i a d and O d y s s e y have been translated into the modern languages o f every continent. The Western European languages have the most versions, and English the most o f all. Some translations assist readers o f the Greek, some make Homer accessible to students, some decorate coffee tables. Translators include schol­ ars, dilettanti, and inspired poets. Modern translations of Homer began in the 14th century with interlinear Latin versions pre­ pared to help early humanists with the Greek (see R eception , from the Renaissance to the Enlightenment). But Latin translations were inhibited by recognition that a Latin Homer would be measured against Vergil and disap­ point. Scholarly editions of the 16th century often provided facing Latin prose renderings; Latin verse translations like Hessus’s Iliad (1540) did eventually appear. Vernacular translations began with Loukanes’s Iliad (Venice, 1526), the first printed book in Modern Greek. In a span of dec­ ades (1530s-1570s) Homer entered French, German, Spanish, Dutch, and Italian. Until the 19th century most vernacular translators worked with a Latin version. The first English Homer (1581) was a retranslation from French. As literacy spread, translations of Homer multiplied. The 18th century saw ten German translations of Homer (six Iliad, four Odyssey), the 19th century seventy. Between 1780 and 1900 translators added Hungarian, Polish, Danish, Armenian, Russian, Portuguese, Turkish, Arabic, Bohemian, Icelandic, and Norwegian to the

886

TR AN SLATIO NS

languages in which the Iliad and Odyssey could be read. Most translations of Homer have been ephemeral, but some live long as standard national versions or popular schooltexts; these would include Monti (Italian verse, 1810), Gneditch (Russian Iliad in hexameters, 1829), ButcherLang (English Odyssey, 1879), Lang-Leaf-Meyers (English Iliad, 1882), Segala y Estalella (Spanish, 1908), Lattimore (English Iliad, 1951), and Fitzgerald (English Odyssey, 1961). A handful are recognized as classics in their own right. Chapman (English Iliad and Odyssey, 1598-1615) reveals the insightful reading of one poet by another in many imaginative touches. The fourteen-syllable rhymed couplets of his Iliads have a ballad-like feel. Dacier thought the Moderns despised Homer because they misunderstood his historical condi­ tions; through her accessible French prose ver­ sions (1710s) she gave the European public a restored, simpler Homer, whose uncorrupted vir­ tue she hoped could refresh society’s decadent mores (see Q uerelle des a n cien s et des m od ­ er n es ). Pope’s Iliad in heroic couplets (1715— 1720) displayed the English poet’s imagination and rhetorical skill responding to Homer’s sum­ mons; the result has been hailed as the greatest English epic after Milton. Voss’s Iliad and Odyssey in German hexameters (1781-1793) embodied the Romantic ambition for a German national poetry worthy o f the ancient Hellenic spirit; their innovations shaped German poetic speech, and endure for many as Homer’s voice in German. A few translations, such as Newman’s AngloSaxonizing Iliad (1856), have evoked historical scholarship’s alien bard. Analyst research influ­ enced German translations that present recon­ structed lays or an Urgedicht. Through the 19th and 20th centuries the most prevalent trend has produced ever-more standardized diction for easy comprehension by students. References and Suggested Readings Häntzschel 1983; Steiner 1996; Sowerby 1997-1998; Young 2003. DRUCE H EIDEN

The process by which the surviving corpus o f Greek literature was recopied, beginning in the 9th century, into a newly standardized minuscule script. Previously,

Transliteration o f Books

almost all books had been written since late antiq­ uity in a majuscule (uncial) script, similar to that used in i n s c r i p t i o n s , consisting more or less of the capital forms of the Greek a l p h a b e t in use today. The letters in each word were unconnected. The minuscule evolved gradually in the 7th and 8th centuries from cursive forms, which had pri­ marily been used for administrative purposes and private documents (and are attested mostly on p a p y r i ). The minuscule was faster to write' (enabling the combination of characters) and allowed for more text on the page (so economiz­ ing on both material and time). When breathing marks and accents were introduced more regu­ larly, it also made texts easier to read. The first securely dated minuscule manuscript is the Uspenskij Gospel book o f 835 ce , a product of the Stoudios monastery in Constantinople, in which the script appears fully developed. It is not certain, however, that minuscule was devised or chiefly promoted by the Stoudios monastery at this time, as used to be believed, or that it was necessarily a Constantinopolitan innovation. Eventually, all books would be transliterated, but this process was neither immediate nor auto­ matic, and the uncial was even retained in some religious contexts, e.g., for the Psalter, as it came to denote tradition and religious authority. In general, technical books seem to have been trans­ literated in the 9th century, while more literary texts were transliterated in the 10th. In many cases, the subsequent manuscript tradition of a text seems to have originated in a single act of transliteration, that is, from one uncial manu­ script. This can be traced through scribal errors that were introduced at this moment. Despite its advantages, transliteration created new opportu­ nities for textual error. It is possible that variants of ancient texts that still survived in Byzantium did not make it through this bottle-neck. This model, however, may not be applicable to popular authors such as P lato or schooltexts such as Homer. Their complex traditions indicate that they perhaps made the transition from uncial to minuscule on more than one independent occasion (Haslam 1997, 92-93, estimates at least four such attested for the I l i a d in the extant record), or that different traditions for each author continued to contaminate each other. The two earliest (10th-century) minuscule texts of the Iliad, D (Laur. 32.15) and A (Marc. gr. 454), reflect

TREES

887

Homer mentions many objects probably made of wood, such as polished tables, chairs, door­ frames, and roof-timbers. The poems note specific kinds of wood for their usual manufactured prod­ ucts and in sim iles , but they have and name few precious woods for objects of daily experience. Thuon, or citronwood, is exceptional, mentioned for the business of H elen and Kalypso (Od. 4.121,5.60,264),but ebony, prominent in Egyptian and Linear B records, never appears. Trees fur­ nish wood for cooking mortals’ food (split cedar kindling in one case, 5.60) and for the gods’ savory smoke and meat of sacrifice (e.g., 14.434—436: See also T ext and T ransmission . Hermes). Firewood feeds fires for heat (both ambient air and bathwater, e.g., II. 22.443-445; References and Suggested Readings Lemerle 1971, 125-136; Wilson 1983,65-88; Reynolds Od. 10.357-364, 14.518-519) and for purifying and Wilson 1991,60-61; Ronconi 2003. funeral pyres (II. 23.163-177 - strong-burning oak). Trees furnish signposts for roads and race­ ANTHONY KALDELLIS tracks (6.237,23.327-333). Aromatic cedar lines a royal Trojan storeroom (24.192, hapax). Standing trees provide abundant leaves, shaded habitat, and Transmission see T ext and T ransmission protection for birds and insects (II. 3.152; Od. 19.520,20.278), and constitute the forests in which lions, deer, and boars have their retreats (II. Trees Trees (dendreon, doru, drus) serve impor­ 17.133-136; Od. 10.159,19.431). tant functions in Homeric, indeed all, ancient Homer names approximately twenty genera epics, as they do in the ecology of rural and pre­ plastic life nearly everywhere on earth. Then and of trees in the two epics (counting sub-species now, Mediterranean trees tend to be dominated like the oak’s evergreen and deciduous species, by scrubby, shrub-like vegetation in the dry, lower e.g., evergreen holm oak, the Quercus ilex). Oak, altitudes, mixed deciduous trees in the hillier pine, and olive are the most common genera. regions, and then conifers on the mountainsides. Homer’s tree world further includes the stately Trees provide heroes with essential foods, fuel, elm and plane, riparian willow, aspen, alder, and raw timber materials (hulê in Homer denotes box, cornel cherries, and the “water-loving” forest, woodland, woods, cut wood, lop, or fire­ (Od. 17.208) poplars (II. 6.419, 21.242, 350, 24.269; Od. 5.64 and 239, 6.292, 7.106, 9.141, wood but later any useful, workable materia-, 10.242 and 510; II. 4.482-487, 16.767, 2.307). II. 4.418, Od. 17.316; cf. 5.257; Arist. Metaph. 1032al7). They compose elements of vehicles The O d y s s e y , not surprisingly with its varied (not the divinities’ exotic metallic chariot topographies, mentions a greater variety of wild and domestic species. The I l i a d , however, has wheels, axles, and chariot bodies; cf. II. 5.722-732 with 5.838), house and temple structures (hard some species not mentioned in the Odyssey, ash thresholds, cypress wood for doorposts; Od. e.g., phêgos, a type of oak (8x; not beech, absent 17.339-340; cf. 21.43), wood furniture with or south of T hessaly). Among forest trees, the without inlays (19.55-58,23.296-298), weapons, poet most frequently mentions the oak: its noted statues, and ships (II. 13.389-391). “Cunning” “deep-rooted” stability, strength, mass, and woodcutters, professionals or not, and carpenters enormous size (12.132-136, 13.437) make it the (23.312-318 [metis stems X5], 15.410-411: dru- heroic vegetable. The mighty and broad oak is tomoi, tektones), shipwrights and chariotmakers the tree of Zeus , and therefore appropriately (Od. 5.250; II. 4.485: harmatopêgos), depend on serves his son S arpedon as a place of recovery wood for their work (see Handicrafts). Epeios from wounds (5.693; cf. 18.558). He also men­ constructed the Wooden Horse from an unspec­ tions the oak as the locus of oracular communi­ cation at D odona (Od. 14.328 = 19.297). ified lumber (Od. 8.492-493).

different traditions and cannot stem from a com­ mon 9th-century transliterated prototype (their scholarly apparatus is different too). A figure that has been associated with the transliteration of Homer is Kometas, profes­ sor of grammar in the new “university” of Constantinople (850-860s), whose epigrams (Anth. Pal. 15.37-38) on the “renovation” of Homer refer to their correction, punctuation, and so possibly to their transliteration as well (but see Lauxtermann 2003, 108-111).

888

TREES

The coniferous evergreens, pines and/or firs (the terminology seems unclear), serve many sim­ iles for their great height (Od. 5.239 and 560, 13.390, 14.287, 16.483; elate, pitus). They are planed for sea-driving oars (17. 7.5). The curva­ ceous and unexpected palm tree, known for marking the births o f Apollo and Artemis at Delos, flatters by unexpected analogy Nausicaa’s pubescent good looks (Od. 6.162—167 — hapax: Phoenix dactylifera; short and squat in youth!; cf. Hymn. Ap. 18). Groves of trees are associated with divinities (Od. 1.51, 9.200), and worked wood supplied votive images. Homer does not specify the material for Athene’s seated cult-statue which could have been wood, metal, or clay (17. 6.303). The Trojans perceived the Wooden Horse as a propitiatory charm (Od. 8.509—512). Homer mentions cultivated trees for the agri­ cultural wealth (the capital basis for pre-industrial societies; see Agriculture) that the fruitful ones bring their elite, often royal (Od. 19.112), posses­ sors. Thus, characters mention the extensive, lux­ uriant orchards o f both Alkinoos and Laertes and Odysseus (7.114-116, 24.340-341). Fruit trees include pear, pomegranate, apple, fig, and the readily propagated olive. This last is arguably the most valuable and characteristic tree o f the Hellenes, long to reach maturity but long-lived and productive thereafter (see further Olive). The olive serves many purposes and possessed deep symbolism for its adorning, nourishing, enriching, and preserving qualities that earned it the epithet "holy” (II. 13.372). These cultivated trees constituted part o f the family fortune and perhaps part of the family. Many potentially tasty olives tantalize starving Tantalos in Hades (11.589-590). The warrior Euphorbos falls over like a slip of olive, nourished by a lonely man but suddenly prostrated by a tempest (17.53—59). Great forests o f trees stood on the mountain­ sides and unharvested isolated islands of the pre­ industrial, pre-colonized, and pre-large navied Homeric world—regardlesss o f whether one dates that element of the poems anywhere from Bronze Age Mycenaean (ca. 1500-1150 bce) all the way to Iron Age, Late Archaic (ca. 700 bce). At times, a visitor in these eerie wildernesses cannot see the trees for the forest, for example when the wandering heroic explorer surveys a new island’s forest, he gladly sees the (tree-produced) smoke of human (?) habitation from Kirke’s hearth fire

(Od. 10.150: hulê). Big trees with their large or supple timbers are essential components before and during the Iron Age. Chariot wheels are made of black poplar (II. 4.482—487, aigeiros). Spears have ash shafts (5.694); in fact, the word “ash” alone can stand for the entire “spear” (2.543, 16.143 = 19.390, 22.133, etc.; see Weapons and Armor). Ships have pine, poplar, and oak tim­ bers (13.482). Odysseus cuts and assembles with Kalypso’s assistance twenty logs of alder and black poplar for his Ogygian raft (Od. 5.238-240). Before pastoral poetry, Homer presents scenes and similes in which trees (and less majestic veg­ etation) appear, usually peripherally but no less impressively for that, as an element of beautiful wild nature, fertile cultivated l a n d s c a p e s , and in similes of all sorts. Homer once compares, in a one-sentence five-verse simile, battle at Troy to wilderness windstorms (II. 16.765-770) in which dense oak, ash, and the smaller cornel whip their wide-reaching or sharp-pointed branches against one another in deafening clamor. Men drop to earth like various great trees: an ash, an oak, or a white poplar (//. 13.178, 389-390,14.414). Brief and extended Homeric similes about deciduous leaves’ brief season, employing both named specific genera and unnamed sturdy trees of the forest, accentuate the ephemerality of life. Most famously, Glaukos “informs” Diomedes about fleeting human generations (II. 6.146; cf. 2.468, 800, 21.464—466; see GlaukosDiomedes Episode). Generic trees (77.13.437-438) and specific ones convey strength and stability, but twice elsewhere a parent or elder recalls a tree shoot’s rapid growth (T hetis of Achilles, II. 18.437—438; cf. Eumaios, Od. 14.175). Homer’s attention to the vegetal world, especially the arbo­ real element, enriches both the epic of sterile killing and the epic of nostalgic continuities. References and Suggested Readings Meiggs 1982,105-115; Baumann 1986. DONALD LATEINER

Trikke (TpiKKq) Place-name in Hestiaiotis in northwestern T hessaly. In the Catalogue of Ships (II. 2.729) it belongs to the contingent o f the two brothers and physicians Machaon and Podaleirios, sons of Asklepios, ft appears again in Iliad 4.202 — carrying the epithet

TROIZEN

“horse-rearing” - as the place of origin of Machaon, when he takes care of the wounded Menelaos. It is quite certainly identified with the site of modern Trikkala, which is located at impor­ tant crossroads o f east-west and north-south routes in the western Thessalian plain. Ancient Trikke was known for its worship of Asklepios, who had a famous cult there. The medieval castle occupies the acropolis o f the ancient town. Late Mycenaean pottery (LH IIIC - 12th century bce) is known from an area southeast of the acropolis (Mountjoy 1999, 852-855, Figs. 346-347, nos. 122-123,124-146) and there is also some evidence for Early Iron age occupation (Hope Simpson and Dickinson 1979, 298 J149). References and Suggested Readings Kirsten RE 8 A1 s.v. “Trikka”; Visser 1997, 692-693, 695. B IR G IT T A E D E R

A title of Athene (II. 4.515, 8.39, 22.183; Od. 3.378; Hes. Th. 895). The meaning of the name is obscure. The most popular ancient explanation derived it from the Lake Tritónis in Libya by which Athene was pre­ sumably born (Hdt. 4.180; Eur. Ion 871-873; Paus. 9.33.7; Apollod. 3.12.3), but the most plausible etymology seems to be from tritos, "third,” with metrical lengthening of the first syllable (“true-born,’’“genuine daughter”; cf. the Athenian Tritopatores “genuine ancestors”; Chantraine s.v.).

Tritogeneia (Tpiroyéveia)

889

in Vergil’s Aeneid he is “carried away by the horses and clings ... to the empty chariot, yet still holding the reins” (1.476-477). An ancient com­ mentator on Iliad 24.257 says that in Sophocles’ Troths, Achilles ambushed Troilos near the tem­ ple of Thymbraean Apollo (outside T roy; see T hymbra); many visual representations place the death there. Some texts and images say or suggest that Achilles desired Troi'los sexually and brutally killed and mutilated him when Troi'los resisted (e.g., J. Tzetzes on Lycophron, Alexandra 308-313; Servius on Aen. 1.474). Dictys (4th century cb), Dares (5th-6th century cb), and later writers make Troilos a great warrior, slain by Achilles after mas­ sacring numerous Greeks. The story of Troi'los as the lover of Cressida, who deserts him for Diomedes, originates in Benoit de Sainte-Maure’s Roman de Troie (ca. 1160), which influenced Guido delle Colonne’s treatment in Historia destructionis Troiae (1272—1287) and Boccaccio’s II Filostrato (ca. 1335-1340); Chaucer’s Troilus and Criseyde (ca. 1369-1372) was based on Boccaccio and influenced Shakespeare’s Troilus and Cressida (ca. 1602). See also Reception, in Latin Middle Ages. References and Suggested Readings Pearson 1917,253-255; Scherer 1963, xvii, 53,102-103; Schefold 1966, 86-87, Figs. 28, 34, 35, Pis. 48a, 73a; Radt, 453; King 1987,123-124,141-142,168-169,171— 172,184,214,216, 283,286-287; Gantz 1993,597-603; Richardson 1993, 299-300; Lowenstam 2008, 24-25, 3 5 -3 9 ,1 3 9 -1 4 8,170-173. S E T H L. SC H EIN

Troad

see Geography, the I l i a d . Troizen (Tpoi(ijv)

At I l i a d 24.257 Priam men­ tions “Troilos delighting in horses,” Mestor, and Hector as “best sons” no longer living. Troi'los’ murder by Achilles early in the war was narrated in the C y p r i a (Proclus’ summary and fr. 41 Bernabé = arg. 11 and ff. 25 West). It was a favorite subject in Archaic and Classical Greek art (Gantz 1993, 97-103; see Iconography, Early) and lit­ erature from the Hellenistic period through the Middle Ages, where it usually comes later, just before Achilles’ own death. Troilos is often shown fleeing in a chariot, pursued by Achilles on foot (e.g., on the François vase, Schefold 1966, PL 48a);

Troi'los (TpúnXoç)

One o f the argolid commu­ nities named in the catalogue of ships as pro­ viding the contingent led by Diomedes (II. 2.561). In Classical times the center o f a small city-state controlling the northeastern end o f the Argive peninsula, Troizen’s main claim to fame was as the birthplace o f T heseus (see also Aithra). As such it was o f interest to Athens in the Classical period, and the action o f Euripides’ Hippolytus is set there. At Gaiatas: Magoula 2 km east o f modern Troizen, Middle and Late Bronze Age remains have been found, particularly three Mycenaean tholos tombs, one o f consider­ able size (11 meters in diameter), but nothing

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TROIZEN

prehistoric is reported from the ancient city site before supposedly G eometric tombs near the Asclepieion, east of the center. There is some Mycenaean and Early Iron Age material from the sanctuary of Poseidon at Kalaureia on the island of Poros, within Troizen’s territory (see Aigina ); the sanctuary was already important in the 8th century. References and Suggested Readings Hope Simpson and Dickinson 1979,54 (A 33); Whitley et al. 2007; Morgan et al. 2008. O LIVER T. P. K. DICKIN SON

Trojan Catalogue I. The “Trojan Catalogue” (TC) is a list of the Trojans and their allies, placed at the end of Book 2 of the Iliad, after the much longer catalogue of the Greek ships (2.816-877; see C atalogue of S h ips ). Because the TC does not list ships, it gives no indication about the size of the contingents. Considering the importance of the Lycians in the poem, the two-line Lycian entry seems very meager (2.876-877). Proclus’ sum­ mary (see Cycle, Epic ) indicates that there was a catalogue of Trojans at the end of the Cyclic C ypria , though nothing of it survives (unless the Catalogue in Apollod. Epit. 3.34-35 is taken as evi­ dence, but that could just as easily be a doublet of TC). In Book 10.428—431 Dolon gives a brief sur­ vey of the Trojan allies (other than the Trojans themselves) and mentions Carians, Paeonians, Leleges, Kaukones, Pelasgians, Mysians, Phrygians, and M aeonians; of these, the Leleges are not in the Catalogue, and the Kaukones may or may not be. 2. Frame. Hector marshals the Trojan allies in response to a message delivered by I ris in the form o f Priam ’s son Polites (1). The place is the mound, called by men “Batieia ” and by gods “grave mound o f Myrine .” Whereas the Achaean Catalogue ends with a discussion of who was the best Greek horse and hero (2.761—779) and the sim ile o f Typhobus among the Arimoi (2.780785), the TC has no formal ending in Book 2, and one has to look to the simile of the screaming Cranes and Pygmies at the beginning o f Book 3 (1-9), which forms one of a pair with the simile of the mist on the mountains, which symbolizes the silence of the approaching Achaean army (3.10-15) (see also Book D ivision ).

3.

Organization. The TC is comprised of groups, of which the first is the T r o a d , and the remaining four follow routes emanating from it to the northwest, northeast, southeast, and south (see Bryce 2006, 127-129 and Map 1). Group /. The Troad (Map 3). For obvious reasons Troy is the logical place to start (816— 818), followed by the Dardanians and Aeneas (819-823), who represent a different branch of the same family (see Trojans), but are not given a dear location in the Troad. Further groups are listed following a circuit round the Troad from east to southwest; Zeleia to the east (824—827), Adrasteia in the north Troad (828-834), Perkote in the northwest Troad (835-839), and the Pelasgians (840-843) in the southwest Troad. Group 2. “Beyond the H ellespont "from east to west; T h r a c i a n s (844-845), Kikones (846847), and Paeonians (848-850). Group 3. The southern coast o f the Black Sea: Paphlagonians and Halizones (851-857). fiv e

G rou p 4.

T h e region sou th ea st o f the T road:

Mysians and Phrygians (858-863). The reference to the Mysians as people Z eus sees when he looks away from Troy may indicate that the Mysians are there imagined as being north of the Hellespont. Group 5. Southwest A n a t o l i a : Maeonia, Caria (associated with M iletos ), and Lycia (864-77). Maeonia (corresponding to Classical Lydia) and Caria receive more attention than one would expect, given their importance in the poem in general, whereas Lycia receives less. 4. Text. It is in the nature o f catalogues that lines may be easily added to them or sub­ tracted. In TC the most noteworthy case is a twoline entry for the Kaukones which seems to have been included by Callisthenes (FGrHist 124 F 53; see Strab. 12.3.5) after the Paphlagonians (2.855); that seems to be confirmed by an early papyrus (PHib. 19; see S. West 1967, 49-50; see also Pa pyri ). The issue is complicated by the fact that lines 853-855 of the Paphlagonian entry may not have been in all ancient texts (see Kirk 1985, 258-259). Other cases: the entry for the Maeon­ ians finished with a line referring to city o f Hyde in some texts (2.866a); and some ancient sources advocated augmenting the entry for the Paeonians with a line referring to Asteropaios (= 848b), who figures in a celebrated passage of Book 21.136-204 (cf. Ammonius in POxy. 221 col. 6.16-30).

TROJAN CATALOGUE

5. Historicity. On the one hand, the TC describes Asia Minor as it was, or was imagined to be, before the Aeolian and Ionian migrations of the 11th—10th centuries bce, when there were no Greeks living in Asia Minor. Strangely, Greeks are imagined as occupying Rhodes and the Dodecanese in the Catalogue of Ships (2.653680). On the basis of Hittite texts, it is now believed that there may after all have been Greek influence, or even presence, at some stages during the 14th—13th centuries bce in southwest Asia Minor, particularly in Miletos (Millawanda) (Hawkins 1998; see Miletos). TC assumes that Phrygians and Mysians were located within Asia Minor in this period, even though there were tra­ ditions that both groups had migrated there from Europe at a later point (see further Phrygians). The historical geography of western Anatolia in the Late Bronze Age is now known in outline (Hawkins 1998), and TC bears little relationship to it, except for the Trojans themselves and the Lycians, probably the Paphlagonians (cf. van den Hout in RÍA s.v. Pala, Palaer, Palaisch 191) and the Carians (= Late Bronze Age Karkisa, though the name is unconnected). The Hittites themselves are not represented (cf. K e t e i o i and Alybe), nor are the important western kingdoms of ArzawaMira (= Maeonia) or the Seha River Land (= Mysia). The TC can be compared to a Hittite text from the 14th century bce listing enemies whom the Hittites faced in the west, the so-called“Assuwa Confederacy,” stretching from Lukka in the south to Taruisa (i.e., Troy) in the northwest (KUB 23.27, translated in Garstang and Gurney 1959, 121-123; Carruba 1977, 158-159; also Bryce 2005,135). The TC agrees with it in so far as Troy and Lycia seem to be the end points of the narra­ tive, but none of the other places matches up. On balance, the TC cannot be shown to con­ tain any geographical information from the Late Bronze Age. Some o f what it describes happens to be roughly in line with what we know about Bronze Age geography, some o f it is not, e.g., in respect of the Phrygians, and absence o f knowl­ edge of Greek activity in southwest Anatolia in the Late Bronze Age (see also Historicity of

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they are marshaled in ethnic units, rather than all together. In the body o f the TC the Carians are signed out as barbarophônoi (2.867; see Barbar­ ians). The multilingual nature of the Trojans is mentioned also in 4.433-438 (see Language, in Homer). It is probably also implied in the simile of the Cranes at 3.2-6. By contrast, the Greeks all speak the same language (see Ross 2005). Another ethnic feature are the golden orna­ ments, probably for the hair, which Carian Amphimachos (2) wear “like a girl” (2.872). Notice also in the Paphlagonian entry the refer­ ence to the breading o f wild mules among the Eneti (2.851-852) (see also Ethnicity). 7. Integration into the rest o f the poem, (a) Adjustment. In the account o f the contingents from the Troad the TC omits cities that Achilles is supposed to have already sacked; thus, there is no mention o f the towns of Lyrnessos and Cilician T hebes from whence came Briseis and Chryseis, respectively; these are apparently imagined as situated in the southeast of the Troad, in the areas which the raids o f Achilles had already obliterated. Pbdasos (3), home of the Leleges, is probably excluded for the same reason, since Achilles had sacked it (20.92), although Elatos (1 ),killed by Agamemnon (6.33-35),and Lykaon (1), killed by Achilles (21.81), came to Troy from there. Demetrius of Scepsis, according to Strabo (13.1.7), distinguished nine “dynasties” in the Troad (see Leaf 1923; Trachsel 2007). (b) Inconsistencies. The Mysians are led by Chromis (see Chromios [5]) and Ennomos (1) in the TC (2.858-861), but by Hyrtios in 14.512. The leader o f the Kikones is Mentes (2) at 17.73 whereas it is Euphemos in the TC (2.846). Although the TC says that Ennomos (1) the Mysian augur and Amphimachos (2) the Carian were to be killed by Achilles in the river, their deaths are not mentioned in Book 21 (2.860-861, 874-875). Askanios is leader o f the Phrygians in TC (862-863), but in 13.792-794 he had only arrived the day before. (c) Thematic correspondences. In some cases, details mentioned in the TC are followed up later in the poem. The death of the sons of Merops of Perkote, anticipated in 2.831-834, is narrated in Homer). 6. Ethnic marking. The main sign of ethnic Book 11 (329-332). Asios (2) of Arisbe’s horses, marking in the TC is that Iris-Polites character­ mentioned at 837-839, is also mentioned later in izes the Trojans and their allies as speaking many the events that lead to his death at 12.96-97 and languages (II. 2.804), which seems to explain why 13.384-393. The Gygaean Lake, mentioned as

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TROJAN CATALOGUE

mother o f the Maeonian leaders M e s t h l e s and Antiphos (2) (865), turns up again in Book 20 (390-392), where Achilles addresses the dead Iphition as having been born “by the Gygaean Lake.” (Kirk [1985, 260, 263] suggests that the Iphition episode might be the source of the pas­ sage in the TC.) See a l s o Geography, the I l i a d . IAN C. RU TH ERFORD

Trojan Horse

see Wooden Horse.

Trojan War For centuries the idea of the Trojan War has been inextricably linked with the name o f Homer. Initially, the tradition of the Trojan War embraced a much wider range of epic poems than merely the I l i a d and O d y s s e y with which it has eventually become associated. In the Archaic Age all the traditional poems dealing with the Trojan War were assumed to be authored by Homer; later, only the Iliad and Odyssey came to be seen as genuinely “Homeric,” whereas the other Trojan epics were attributed to various other poets and subsumed under the so-called Epic Cycle (see Homerica). Thus the Homeric poems as we know them represent only a fraction of the mythological tradition of the Trojan War: the knowledge of the larger narrative of the war came to the Greeks from other traditional sources, first and foremost from the poems of the Cycle. This was a war that broke out because of the abduction of Helen, the wife of Menelaos king of Sparta, by Paris prince of Troy - a non-Greek city on the opposite shore of the Aegean. The Achaean fleet, led by Menelaos’ brother Aga­ memnon king of Mycenae, came to the walls of Troy to claim Helen back. In the war that lasted ten years the Race of Heroes had gradually been extinguished (see Heroic Age). Not only mortals but also gods were involved in the war, and when it ended the gods ceased to appear before humans and to produce the mixed progeny of divine heroes who descended from both gods and mor­ tals. This was the beginning of a new race, the Race of Iron, that of the ordinary men (Hes. Op. 159-179; [Hes.] fr. 204.95-105 M-W; Cypria fr. 1 Bernabé = West).

At all periods of their history the Greeks took it for granted that the Trojan War was a genuine historical event which signaled the beginning of their history. The Iliad and Odyssey shaped not only Greek identity but also their values and reli­ gious beliefs. They became an integral part of their elementary education, were recited at reli­ gious and civic ceremonies, and their authority was habitually evoked in political and judicial disputes (e.g., see Hdt. 7.161.3). Small wonder, therefore, that in the course of time they became the main object o f historical, philological, liter­ ary, and philosophical interpretation. All this changed in the modern era when, with the dissolution o f Byzantium, there remained no community that would claim Homer as part of its collective identity. The Iliad and Odyssey ceased to be approached as historical sources, and the Trojan War came to be seen as a product of liter­ ary imagination rather than an event that really took place. This attitude, which had prevailed through the centuries of modern reception of Homer, was dealt a fatal blow in the 1870s, with Schliemann’s discovery of Troy. Schliemann’s excavations at Hisarlik were followed by those at additional Bronze Age sites in mainland Greece and Crete, carried out by Schliemann and oth­ ers, and the Minoan and Mycenaean civiliza­ tions were brought to light as a result (see Archaeology, Homeric). The euphoria that followed these discoveries had no limits. Just like the Greeks centuries before, many came to believe that everything told by Homer was historical truth. Small wonder, therefore, that in the period between 1900 and 1950 the Iliad and Odyssey were habitually used as a basis for reconstructions of the society, economy, religion, and politics of Mycenaean Greece. The disillusionment came in the 1950s, as a direct result of the decipherment of Linear B. The picture of the Mycenaean society that emerged after the decipherment has led to the increasing understanding that the Homeric poems cannot be seen as an adequate representa­ tion of Mycenaean Greece. In particular, the pic­ ture of the society arising from the Iliad and Odyssey made it clear that it should be placed in a later historical period (or periods) than the Late Bronze Age. This last conclusion was almost exclusively due to the studies of M. I. Finley, whose articles of the 1950s and especially the

TROJAN WAR

book The World o f Odysseus (1978 [1954]), opened a new era in the historical study of Homer. As a result, a new consensus has arisen, which locates the historical background suitable for Homer in the 1st rather than the 2nd millennium B C E (see H i s t o r i c i t y o f H o m e r ) . The dating of the Trojan War fluctuated accord­ ingly. The century-long preoccupation with two Bronze Age settlements of Troy, Troy VI and Troy VII (see T r o y ) , has produced two generally accepted criteria for the identification of a given settlement with Homer’s Troy: first, it should be important enough to be worth fighting over; sec­ ond, it should have been demonstrably destroyed by war. In the long history of the excavations at Hisarlik emphasizing one or another of the above criteria has produced two alternative identifica­ tions of Homer’s Troy. The adoption of the first resulted in W. Dörpfeld’s (1927) identification of the impressive settlement of Troy VI with the Troy of the Homeric poems; as distinct from this, C. W. B l e g e n , in whose opinion Troy VI was destroyed by an earthquake, came to the conclusion that Homer’s Troy should be identified with Troy Vila, an insignificant settlement which, however, was definitely destroyed by fire. The chronology adopted by Blegen allowed a neat synchroniza­ tion of Troy Vila with the Mycenaean civilization of mainland Greece: as a result, many a recon­ struction of the Trojan War in the post-World War II period was based on his conclusions. Since the 1960s, however, Blegen’s chronology has become problematized, making the synchroniza­ tion o f Troy Vila with Mycenaean Greece increas­ ingly difficult (below). As a result, many scholars abandoned the earthquake theory, and in the 1980s and 1990s the pendulum of scholarly opin­ ion swung back to Troy VIh as the most likely candidate for Homer’s Troy. This was also the initial assumption o f the late Manfred Korfmann, the director of the Tübingen expedition which started excavating Troy in 1988. Yet, since the season o f 1993, the magnetometer surveys and excavations have made it increasingly manifest that, in the period of Troy VIh and Troy Vila, there existesd a lower settlement to the south o f the citadel, underneath the Hellenistic and Roman city o f I l i o n - a settlement that was impressive enough to allow us to treat Troy VIh and Vila as one large and prosperous city (Korfmann 2004). Another result of Korfmann’s

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dramatic reevaluation of Late Bronze Age Troy has been the recognition of the fact that the cen­ tury-long differentiation between Troy VIh and Troy Vila should be abandoned. As a matter of fact, the lack of cultural break between the two had been a matter of common knowledge even before the Tübingen excavations (e.g., Easton 1985, 190-191; Hiller 1991, 145). Yet, in so far as in the years following Blegen’s excavation Homer’s Troy was firmly identified with Troy Vila, the issue of cultural continuity with the settlement that preceded it was of little relevance. This changes, however, as soon as one identifies Homer’s Troy with Troy VIh. Indeed, whatever the reasons for the end of Troy VIh, in so far as it was immediately continued by Troy Vila it could not have been the Troy whose total destruction and abandonment were celebrated in Greek tra­ dition. The discovery of the lower city shared by Troy VIh and Vila has made the continuity between the two especially manifest. So much so that Korfmann and his team have even renamed Troy Vila as Troy Vli. According to the newly adopted chronology, this settlement must have been destroyed somewhere around 1 180 b c e . As is well known, all Aegean chronology depends on pottery styles. In the time of Blegen’s excavations of P y l o s and Troy, the change between Late Helladic IIIB and IIIC pottery was assumed to have taken place around 1230-1200 b c e ; as no LH IIIC pottery had been found in the debris at Pylos, Blegen came to the conclusion that the palace was destroyed around 1200. He also assumed that there was no IIIC pottery in Troy Vila either; accordingly, Troy Vila too was thought to have fallen before the beginning of the LH IIIC period. In terms o f absolute chronology Blegen dated the end of Troy Vila at ca. 1240, but later raised it to 1270. Yet, as the understanding of pottery styles improved in the postwar years, it began to be made clear (especially due to the work of Penelope Mountjoy) that, contrary to Blegen’s assessment, LH IIIC pottery was present in Troy Vila after all. This could only mean that this settlement was most probably destroyed somewhere ca. 1180 b c e (for the discussion> see Hiller 1991; Rutter 1996, ch. 27; Benzi 2002,345355). As already mentioned, this is also the date adopted by the present excavators of Troy. But if Homeric Troy was destroyed ca. 1180 and if, at the same time, Blegen’s identification of

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TROJAN WAR

it with Troy Vila is sustained, this would mean, as simply as possible, that at the time when the Trojan War was fought the Mycenaean palaces had already been in ruins (Finley et al. 1964, 7 n. 17; Wood 1996, 225; Easton 1985, 189; cf. Dickinson 1986, 25 n. II). It is not surprising, therefore, that since 1985 Dörpfeld’s identifica­ tion of Homeric Troy with the earlier settlement of Troy VIh has greatly gained in popularity (above). Yet the identification of Troy VI as the Troy of Homer is problematic in more than one respect. To begin with, it does not take into account the continuity between Troy VIh and Vila. Again, in so far as there was no cultural break between Troy VI and Troy VII, the former could not have been Homer’s Troy. The discovery of the lower city belonging to both Troy VIh and Vila makes this conclusion especially compelling. The reports of Korfmann and his team in which these findings were made public started to appear only after 2000 and seem to have yet had no suf­ ficient impact on the current consensus in favor of Troy VIh (West 2004, xvi being a notable excep­ tion). However that may be, the apprehension expressed by John Caskey more than forty years ago seems to be shared by the majority of schol­ ars: “If the sack of Settlement Vila is ever shown to have occurred after the fall of M y c e n a e and Pylos, or at the same time, we shall indeed have to reject most of Homeric tradition” (Caskey in Finley et al. 1964, 11; cf. Wood 1996, 225; Hiller 1991,152; Benzi 2002,345). Yet the fact that the dating of the destruction of Troy in LH IIIC does not suit a certain historical context does not yet mean that it suits no histori­ cal context at all. Proceeding from the then new lower chronology for Troy Vila, Finley argued as early as 1964 that the destruction of Troy should be placed within the migration period of the early 1 2th century b c e , thus establishing a connection between the fall of Troy and such momentous his­ torical events as the fall of the Hittite Empire, the collapse of Mycenaean Greece, destructions in the Levant, and the assault of the S e a P e o p l e s upon E g y p t (Finley in Finley et al. 1964; cf. Nylander 1963; Wood 1996, 224). Finally, in a thoughtprovoking article, Sinclair Hood proposed plac­ ing the core o f Homer, including the Trojan War, “after the fell o f the Mycenaean bureaucracies and after the disappearance of the H i t t i t e s from the scene in A n a t o l i a ,” making a suggestion that

Homer’s Troy should be identified with Troy Vllb rather than Vila (Hood 1995). In formulating this hypothesis, Hood proceeded from the studies of pottery by the German archaeologists D. Hertel and C. Podzuweit, who revived Schliemann’s view that Troy Vllb had actually lasted until the time of the Aeolian settlement o f the Troad (Troy VIII), with no gap in time between them (see A e o u a n s ) ; this view has also been adopted by the German Homerist Wolfgang Kullmann (e.g., Hertel 1991; Kullmann 2002, 51, 133). If correct, this recon­ struction would fit in well with the A e o l i c p h a s e in the development of the Homeric tradition pos­ tulated by many scholars. Yet, although the gap between the destruction o f Troy Vllb and the emergence o f early Greek pottery in Troy VIII is now thought to be shorter than was once sup­ posed (Lemos 2002, 211-212), the view that the beginning of the Aeolian settlement of the Troad should be raised to the 10th century b c e is cur­ rently at variance with the prevailing consensus. In recent years there has developed a tendency towards an “Anatolization” o f the Trojan War - so much so that it is often being treated as an exclu­ sively Anatolian affeir. Thus, according to Korfmann, since Bronze Age Wilusa (see I l i o n ) has proved to have had stronger ties with Anatolia than with the Aegean, the Trojan War too should be approached as an internal Anatolian event (Korfmann 2004; cf. Latacz 2004). Yet while the identification o f Troy with Wilusa is indeed very plausible, it seems doubtful that the Hittite records can provide a satisfactory chronological background for the Trojan War. The reason is simple: a number o f the Hittite texts that used to be thought to belong to the last decades o f the Late Bronze Age have been redated to a period o f some 150 years earlier (see further Bryce 2005, 414—415). As a result o f this, none o f the Hittite references to Wilusa can go further than 1230 b c e . Almost all Hittite sources relating to Wilusa mention the kingdom o f A h h i y a w a . On the assumption that Ahhiyawa stands for the late Bronze Age Mycenaean civilization, it would be difficult to avoid the conclusion that the sources in question readily lend themselves to synchroni­ zation with Mycenaean Greece. Yet none o f the Hittite sources involving the 13th-century b c e Wilusa/Troy, nor even the intriguing mention of Alaksandu, king of Wilusa (see A l e x a n d r o s ) , is chronologically compatible with the current

TRO JANS

archaeological dating of the fall o f Troy in 1180 b c e (on the anachronism involved, see West 2004, xviii). In other words, in the present state of our evidence it would be hard to avoid the conclusion that, while the sources at our disposal do allow for the Hittites and Mycenaeans to be brought into mutual correspondence, they leave the Trojan War out of the picture. All in all, it seems that the only perspective that makes sense of the narrative of the Trojan War is that of the later Greeks. The Trojan tradition as we know it is neither Mycenaean nor Anatolian: it is a national Greek tradition which achieved Panhellenic circulation somewhere in the A r c h a i c A g e (see P a n h e l l e n i s m ) . Accordingly, the only historical context o f the Trojan War of which we can be reasonably certain is that o f the foundational narrative o f the new Greek civiliza­ tion that replaced Mycenaean Greece at the begin­ ning of the 1st millennium b c e . M A RG A LIT FIN K ELBER G

Trojans (Tpüeç) Derived from their ancestor T r o s (1), the term “Trojans” denotes three spe­ cific groupings within the I l i a d (the first entry in the T r o j a n C a t a l o g u e ; on the catalogue at 12.82-107, see Wathelet 1988, 53-55): (1) the inhabitants of the city T r o y / IH o s (see I l i o n ) itself (2.816-818), who are led by P r i a m and, on the battlefied, his son H e c t o r ; (2) the D a r d a n i a n s (2.819-823) led by A e n e a s , who live in and around (the city of?) Dardania, southwest o f Troy, on the slopes o f Mt. I d a (20.216-218); and (3) the inhabitants of Z e l e i a (2.824-827), led by P a n d a r o s and located northwest of Troy near the A i s e p o s River. Group (3) has no obvious genealogical link with (1) and (2), and Pandaros comes from Lycia at 5.105 (and 173), which is a long way from Troy and governed by S a r p b d o n (cf. Kirk 1985,254; see L y c i a n s ) . The fullest g e n e a l o g y of the Trojan royal household is given by Aeneas to A c h i l l e s (20. 215-240): Z e u s > d a r d a n o s (1)> E r i c h t h o n i o s > Tros > I l o s (1) > L a o m e d o n (> Priam (> Hector] + T i t h o n o s + L a m p o s [ 1 ] + K l y t i o s [ 1 ] +

H

ik e t a o n

)

+

G

a n y m e d e s

+

A

ss a r a k o s

(>

Kapys > A n c h i s e s > Aeneas). The city’s founda­ tion (presumably by Ilos, as Dardanos “founded Dardania,” 20.216) would have been the essential differentiating factor between groups (1) and

895

(2), preserved in the f o r m u l a “Trojans and Dardanians and allies” (3.456,7.348,7.368,8.497) vel sim. “Dardanian” may mean “Trojan” (2.701, 16.807) and vice versa (e.g., 11.285 and 286), but the latter is more common, as the tendency for the entire force to be called “Trojans” (e.g., 3.68 and 86). This reflects the dominance o f the city’s inhabitants (2.817-818), as indeed does the fact that the term “Troy” may be used of the region as a whole (Wathelet 1988, 41—42). Rivalry between branches is evident in Anchises’ “theft” of Laomedon’s h o r s e s (5.265-272), and in Aeneas hanging back from battle (13.460); cf. Achilles’ taunt that Aeneas will not supplant Priam’s line (20.178-183), predicted by P o s e i d o n (20.302308,337-339). Both Trojans and Dardanians may be present in Bronze Age documents (Bryce 2006, 107-126, 135-136). Wilus(iy)a (= Ilios?) and Taruisa (= Troy?) are frequently named in H i t t i t e corre­ spondence ( 15th—13th centuries b c f . ) , especially in a 14th-century list of enemy forces (Watkins 1986, 52), while the Dardany appear in Ramesses II’s inscriptions about the “ S e a P e o p l e s ” and the battle ofKadesh(1274 b c e ) . Furthermore, a 13thcentury Wilusan king is named Alaksandu (= A l e x a n d r o s I ) , and the activities there o f a Piyamadaru (= Priamos*.) required Hittite inter­ vention. These characters and their territory are also linked with the politico-military machina­ tions of the A h h i y a w a ( = “A c h a e a n s ? ” ) in A n a t o l i a (Bryce 2006, 182-186). Troy itself is usually identified with Hisarlik, on the northwest coast of Turkey near the H e l l e s p o n t , where continuous settlement is evi­ dent throughout the Bronze Age and into the 1st millennium b c e , with levels VI (destruction in mid-13th century) and VII (destruction in mid11th century) the most likely candidates for pres­ ervation in Greek tradition (Wathelet 1988,38-41; Bryce 2006,58-68; see further T r o j a n W a r ) . The inhabitants may have spoken L u w i a n (Wathelet 1988, 70-73) and, while many Trojan names in Homer are Greek (e.g., Hektar), a considerable number are sourced from Anatolia (Watkins 1986, 57; Wathelet 1988,817,909-910 (e.g.), though see also 33-35,123-124; see also N a m e s 3.6). Whatever the historical background, Homer’s Trojans and Greeks are very similar. Notwith­ standing later attempts to draw the Trojans as “ b a r b a r i a n s ” (Hall 1989,1-55), the poet equates

896

TROJANS

the two as much as possible, while not effacing every difference (cf. Stoevesandt 2004, 337-349). Language-, despite scattered signs of differentia­ tion (particularly among the allies: 2.804, 2.867, 4.437-438), the two groups are mutually intelli­ gible without the aid of interpreters (see also L

a n g u a g e

,

in

H

o m e r

).

Military tactics and weaponry: s w o r d s , armor and SREAR-tips are of b r o n z e , p r o m a c h o i fight at their contingents’ forefront, they advance to and retreat from battle in c h a r i o t s , and they rely on sword-fighting and spear-throwing and thrusting. Despite D i o m e d e s ’ taunts to P a r i s (11.385), it is not more characteristic (contra H. Mackie 1996, 52-53) of Trojans to use a r c h e r y (cf. T e u c e r and the L o c r i a n archers, 13.715-718). However, the Trojans are fewer (cf. 2.119-133; sixteen contin­ gents in the Trojan Catalogue against twenty-nine in the C a t a l o g u e o f S h i p s ) and less successful fighters (Stoevesandt 2004,47-109, 111-234); for example, 189 named Trojans are killed, against only 54 Greeks (see M i n o r W a r r i o r s ) . O f the two most successful Trojan warriors, Hector is defeated by A j a x t h e G r e a t e r (7.206—310) and Diomedes (11.349-360) before being saved from (20.438^154) and finally killed by Achilles, while Aeneas is bested by Diomedes (and Pandaros killed: 5.290-296, 305—310) and would have been killed by Achilles (20.288-291). Religion: Trojans worship the same g o d s i n the same ways as the Greeks (e.g., 3.297, 6.286-311, 21.132 ~ 23.171—172; Zeus speaks of Hector’s piety [24.66—70] and of his own partiality for the city [4.43—49]), and they enjoy several direct indications of divine favor (e.g., 24.143-187,314-321,331-338). Nonetheless, the Trojans are responsible for the war with their offense against h o s p i t a l i t y (and Zeus Xenios), augmented b y Pandaros’ O A T H - b r e a k i n g (4.89-126; cf. 7.351-353; Allan 2006,4-6). Politics: as A g a m e m n o n in the Greek camp (or O d y s s e u s in I t h a c a , and A l k i n o o s in S c h e r i a ) , Priam is not the only powerful man in Troy, for other older figures (e.g., A n t e n o r and P a n t h o o s ) exercise authority and have prominent sons ( A g e n o r and P o u l y d a m a s ) , though Priam’s word is final (e.g., 7.365-379) and they are never called B A S iL B u s (5.464, 24.680, 24.803) or ( w ) a n a x (2.373,4.18, 4.290, etc.) as he is. A s s e m b l i e s and c o u n c i l scenes are also held among the Trojans, and disagreement here is common: Antenor chal­ lenges Paris (7.345-365), Poulydamas routinely

questions Hector (esp. 12.211-214, 18.249-252; cf. also 15.721-723). Society: unlike the Greeks, the Trojans are dom­ inated by Priam’s large f a m i l y (fifty sons and twelve daughters from several wives: 6.244-250, 24.495^97). Greeks typically have fewer children from a single wife (Hall 1989, 42-43; cf. Od. 1.430—433, II. 9.448-480). Matched by Antenor’s brood (eleven sons), this fecundity has been linked with the dominance of Priam’s family (above) and considered typical of oriental “pal­ ace-culture” (Starke 1997,459-461). The general equation does not, therefore, deny some fundamental differences in martial ability, moral responsibility, and ethnicity. Interestingly, formulaic systems for individual Trojans are underused (Sale 1989,362-367), and those for the city itself not well developed (Sale 1987,32-39; see Formula), whilst several epithets of the Trojans as a group are negative (cf. Wathelet 1988, 45-7; Sale 1989, 377—80). This might suggest that their prominence and comparatively neutral depiction in the Iliad is a relatively recent phenomenon in Greek epic (cf., contra, Stoevesandt 2004, 31-38), but it need not lead us to doubt that the poet saw Troy’s fall as both necessary and right. A D R IA N D . K E L L Y

Tros (Tpcoç) (1) The eponymous founder of the Trojan race; king of the T r o j a n s . Son of E r i c h t h o n i o s , father of I l o s ( 1 ) , A s s a r a k o s , and G a n y m e d e s (II. 20.230-231; cf. 5.265-266). (2 )

T r o ja n , s o n

o f A la sto r

( 1 ) ; k ille d b y

A c h i l l e s (II. 2 0 . 4 6 3 ) . (3 )

“A T r o ja n ” ; s e e T r o j a n s .

Troy (Tpolq) The place known today a s Troy (Darkish Hisarlik, now also Truva or Troia, Greek and Roman ILION/Ilium) is an archaeological site in northwestern Turkey close to the Dardanelles (ancient Hellêspontos; see H e l l e s p o n t ) . It has also been considered as the scene o f the T r o j a n W a r . The central mound covers a series o f Bronze Age fortresses (ca. 3000-950 b c e ) as well as build­ ings of the Classical city o f Ilion, and was sur­ rounded by a larger settlement. Edward Daniel Clarke confirmed in 1801 that Hisarlik was ancient Ilion, based on coins

TROY

897

the remains of increasingly large Bronze Age set­ tlements, as well as the sanctuary of Athena Ilias and other buildings of Greek and Roman Ilion. Only during recent excavations has considerable effort been made to explore the surrounding area. The results indicate that beginning with the Early Bronze Age, Troy has been larger than previously known. Late Bronze Age Troy consisted of a cita­ del that was only part of a substantial settlement protected by a defensive ditch. The stratigraphy of the mound has been divided into nine major periods, the “cities” Troy I—IX, by Schliemann and Dörpfeld. A modified version of this chronology, which has been revised and radiocarbon-dated by the current excavations (Kromer et al. 2 0 0 3 ) , is still valid today. Good summaries of the archaeol­ ogy of Troy can be found in Biegen ( 1 9 6 3 ) , Bryce ( 2 0 0 6 ) , and Korfrnann ( 2 0 0 6 ) . Troy I (ca. 3 0 0 0 - 2 5 5 0 b c e ) was a small village with row h o u s e s built of stone and mudbrick, some already with a “megaron” ground plan consisting of a large room and an anteroom. It was sur­ rounded by stone ramparts. At the very beginning of the Early Bronze Age most metal a r t e f a c t s were still made from copper, although a few b r o n z e objects have been found nearby. Pottery was hand­ made and sometimes decorated with white incrus­ tations. Architecture and artefacts resemble finds from contemporary sites on the islands and shores of the northeast Aegean, but similar house plans have also been found in A n a t o l i a . In Troy II (ca. 2 5 5 0 - 2 3 0 0 bce) large megaron buildings up to forty meters long were built inside a courtyard. They were most likely used for assemblies or religious ceremonies. The fortifica­ tions, protecting an area larger than before, now consisted of mudbrick walls on top of sloping T h e a r c h a e o l o g i c a l s it e o f T r o y is s i t u a t e d a t t h e stone walls with a paved street leading up to a n o r t h w e s t e r n c o r n e r o f a l o w p la t e a u o v e r l o o k i n g monumental gate. Houses have also been excav­ a n a llu v ia l p la in a t t h e m o u t h o f t h e K a r a m e n d e r e s ated outside the citadel. An area of nine hectares Ç a y i R iv e r ( a n c i e n t S K A M A N D R O s/ S c a m a n d e r) to the south was protected by a palisade. The (s e e M a p 4 ) . S ix th o u s a n d y e a rs a g o th is p la in w as famous treasures found by Schliemann - metal s t ill a s h a llo w b a y w it h t h e s e a s h o r e l y i n g a t t h e vessels, jewelry, and other objects - are most likely f o o t o f t h e h ill d o s e t o t h e s it e . S i n c e t h e n t h e b a y from levels belonging to Troy II. Raw materials h a s s ilt e d u p w i t h s e d im e n t s f r o m t h e S k a m a n d r o s came from as far away as Central Asia. Pottery a n d S i m o e i s ( D ü m r e k ) r iv e r s a n d t h e c o a s t l i n e similar to the two-handled cups (“Depas h a s m o v e d t o it s p r e s e n t p o s i t i o n s e v e r a l k i l o m ­ amphikypellon”) or wheelmade plates from Troy e t e r s a w a y ( K a y a n e t a l. 2 0 0 3 , K r a f t e t a l. 2 0 0 3 ) . From the beginning of excavations a mound- have been found in Syria, across Anatolia, in Greece and Bulgaria. 3 0 0 by 2 0 0 meters wide at the edge o f the pla­ After Troy II had been destroyed by fire, the teau has attracted the attention of archaeologists. Within its fifteen meters o f deposits it contains large buildings inside the citadel were replaced by

and inscriptions that had been found there. Charles Maclaren concluded in 1822 that Ilion must also be Homer’s Troy. However, under the influence of the Greek geographer S t r a b o , who believed that the city Ilion of his own time was not the Troy of the I l ia d , most scholars still claimed that Homer’s Troy was on the nearby hilltop Balli Dag, following MarieGabriel A. F. Choiseul-Gouffier and JeanBaptiste Lechevalier. Convinced that this hypothesis was wrong, Frank Calvert, a British expatriate and amateur scholar living in the region who also owned part of the site, started excavations at Hisarlik/Ilion in 1863 and 1865. When Heinrich S c h l i e m a n n , a retired German businessman who had decided to devote himself to scholarship, arrived in the regionin 1868, Calvert pointed the site out to him (Heuck Allen 1999). Schliemann conducted large-scale excavations from 1870 to 1873. After smuggling valuable finds he called " P r i a m ’s Treasure” out of the country (Easton 1994), he had to wait for the legal case to be settled before he could return to Troy, where he continued excavations in 1878, 1879, 1 8 8 2 , 1 8 8 9 , and 1890. After Schliemann’s death his associate Wilhelm Dörpfeld com­ pleted his work in 1893 and 1 8 9 4 (Dörpfeld 1 9 6 8 ) . From 1932 to 1 9 3 8 Carl W. B i . e g e n (University of Cincinnati) conducted excavations at Troy to complement and reappraise earlier results (Biegen 1 9 6 3 ; Biegen et al. 1 9 5 0 , 1 9 5 1 , 1 9 5 3 , 1 9 5 8 ) . From 1 9 8 8 to the present day an international team directed by Manfred Korfrnann (d. 2 0 0 5 ) of the University of Tübingen (Germany) has been exca­ vating at the site (Korfrnann 2 0 0 6 ; Studia Troica 1 9 9 1 - 2 0 0 7 ) (see also A r c h a e o l o g y , H o m e r i c ) .

898

troy

smaller, densely clustered houses before it once again burned down. In the course of the 3rd millennium b c e cities and states had already emerged in Egypt and Mesopotamia. From Anatolia to Greece, second­ ary centers acted as nodes in a network of exchange and contact with these more developed areas. Towards the end of the millennium Troy was only one of many places struck by a crisis in the larger region from Greece to the Near East. Mistakenly believing Troy II was P r i a m ’s city, Schliemann removed large parts of the less pros­ perous settlements of Troy III (ca. 2300-2200 b c e ) , FV(ca. 2200-2000 b c e ) , and V(ca. 2000-1750 b c e ) . Since Biegen ascribed much of Dörpfeld’s Troy III to a late phase of Troy II, chronology has remained ambiguous. All this might have contributed to the impression that Troy was a rather small village dur­ ing these periods. Houses from Troy V have been excavated to the west of the citadel, showing that the settlement was growing once again. Domed ovens, which appeared in Troy IV for the first time, and the “red-cross bowls” of Troy V seem to have reached Troy from Anatolia. From a di fferent direc­ tion, M i n o a n pottery arrived at the end of Troy V. At the end of Troy VI (ca. 1750-1300 b c e ) the citadel, enclosing an area of two hectares, was much larger than its predecessors. With its walls, built of limestone blocks, five meters wide and still up to eight meters high, and several towers and gates, it matches M y c e n a e a n or H i t t i t e citadels both in size and workmanship (Fig. 35a). From the south gate, a paved and drained street led into the interior where large, two-storied houses stood on terraces rising towards the center (Fig. 36). Megaron buildings still occur, but there are also halls with pillars or columns as well as irregular ground plans. During the Hellenistic period, when the mound was leveled to make room for the sanctuary of Athena, the center of the citadel was destroyed, and more has been removed without documentation by Schliemann. We will therefore never know what the most important buildings looked like. The citadel was surrounded by a larger settle­ ment protected by a rock-cut defensive ditch com­ prising an area o f around twenty hectares (Fig. 35b). The ill-preserved remains of this “lower city” are covered by Greek and Roman llion and can therefore only be excavated in small patches. If there was a wall or ramparts alongside the ditch it has been thoroughly destroyed. Only a few traces

of wooden constructions have been discovered at two gates. Close to the citadel a densely built-up area has been excavated, but houses have also been found further away. Four hundred and fifty meters south of the citadel a small cemetery has been excavated by Biegen near a gate bridging the ditch. Considerable effort was made to secure the water supply. There are several wells inside the cita­ del. Its northeast bastion was built around a large, rectangular well. What Schliemann called a cave and spring two hundred meters south of the cita­ del is in fact a system of tunnels and shafts tapping two aquifers. The system had been used beginning with the Early Bronze Age and was enlarged during the Late Bronze Age and the Roman period. During Troy VI, h o r s e s were for the first time kept at Troy. A gray, wheel-made pottery type is iden­ tical with the Middle Helladic Gray M i n y a n ware of Greece. This West Anatolian Gray Ware continues to be produced until Troy Vllb. A small amount of Minoan, Mycenaean, Cypriot, and Levantine pottery was imported throughout Troy VI and VII. West Anatolian Gray Ware, on the other hand, has been found on C y p r u s and along the Levantine coast Hittite finds are, however, conspicuously absent After it had been partially destroyed, probably by an earthquake, the city was soon rebuilt during Troy Vila (ca. 1 3 0 0 - 1 1 8 0 b c e ; Fig. 3 4 ) . The citadel walls as well as some buildings inside were reused. Towers were added to the walls, and stelae were placed in front of the south gate. In a development similar to what had happened at the end of Troy II, large rooms were subdivided, and open spaces were filled with small houses. Large numbers of storage vessels were sunk into the floors. New houses were also built outside the citadel. A stretch of yet another rock-cut ditch has been discovered to the south o f the first one, indicating growth of the set­ tlement. Troy Vila suffered destruction by fire. During the first phase o f Troy Vllb (ca. 1180950 b c e ) houses were once more rebuilt inside and outside the citadel, whose walls still served their purpose. Pottery, including Mycenaean imports, seems almost unchanged, even if some handmade wares (“Barbarian Ware”) now appear. A biconvex seal with a L u w i a n Hieroglyphic inscription has been found inside a house of this first phase of Troy Vllb. So far, this is the only evi­ dence for writing from Bronze Age Troy, and also one of very few finds reflecting possible connec­ tions with Hittite Anatolia.

TROY

899

Fig. 34. Large building of Troy Vila excavated in the course of recent excavations west of the citadel (Gebhard Bieg, Troy Project, University of Tübingen).

During later phases of Troy Vllb a building tech­ nique using upright stone slabs (“Orthostates”) and a handmade ceramic ware (“Buckelkeramik” Knobbed Ware), both similar to finds from south­ eastern Europe and the shores of the B l a c k S e a , were introduced at Troy, probably due to the arrival of immigrant population groups. Towards the end of Troy Vllb, which continued into the Early Iron Age, Protogeometric amphoras were imported from Greece. Two phases of Troy Vllb ended in destruction by fire. South of the citadel wall a complete sequence of layers from Troy VI into the Greek and Roman periods of Troy VIII and IX (ca. 950 b ce -550 ce ) has recently been excavated (below). This shows that, contrary to Blegen’s interpretation, even during the D a r k A g e at the beginning of the 1st millennium bce, Troy was never completely aban­ doned. The oldest houses of Greek Ilion as well as the earliest traces of ritual activities can be dated to the end of the 8th century bce. The city of Ilion prospered during the Hellenistic and Roman periods, not least by exploiting its ties with the legendary past.

But how can the archaeological site of Troy and the epic tradition possibly be connected? When Schliemann started to excavate at Hisarlik-Troy his goal was to prove that the Trojan War had actually taken place there and that the events related by Homer were based on historical facts. Being among the first to recognize the principles of archaeologi­ cal stratigraphy, he concluded that remains from the time of the Trojan War must be buried deep underneath the ruins of Greek and Roman Ilion. Consequently, he excavated a large trench down to bedrock. Disappointed by the modest village of Troy I he uncovered there, he was about to give up when he found treasures and the burnt citadel of Troy II in higher levels. He then was convinced that he had discovered Priam’s city. However, it soon became clear that these finds were from the Early Bronze Age, a millennium older than any possible date for the Trojan War; not least as a result of Schliemann’s own excavations in M y c e n a e , T ir y n s , and O r c h o m e n o s (1). Schliemann’s successor Dörpfeld excavated the citadels of Troy VI and VII, where he found pottery similar to what was already known from Mycenaean Greece. He

Fig. 35.

Plan of Late Bronze Age Troy (Peter Jablonka, Troy Project, University of Tübingen).

TROY

901

Fig. 36. South Gate of Troy VI and VII with stelae in front of tower (left), paved street with drain leading into the citadel (right), and “Pillar House” (Troy VI, background). View from south (Gebhard Bieg, Troy Project, University of Tübingen). therefore advocated that Troy VI was Homer’s Troy. Biegen argued that the densely packed houses of Troy Vila with their storage jars showed that the population sought protection behind the citadel walls and interpreted traces of burning and some scattered human bones as evidence for a violent destruction. He therefore suggested that Troy Vila was the city of the Iliad (Biegen et al. 1958,10-13). But houses of Troy Vila have also been found out­ side the citadel, and the interpretation of a few human bones or some burning remains is ambiguous. Conclusive proof that Hisarlik-Troy was the stage of the Trojan War is therefore lacking and it is unlikely that it will ever be found. On the other hand, if nothing had been found underneath the ruins of Greek and Roman Ilion, the question would no longer be asked. But what has been excavated there is probably the most important Bronze Age site of western Anatolia and the northern Aegean. Throughout its history it was a well-fortified stronghold which had its ramparts renewed after several destruc­

tions. Late Bronze Age Troy was as large as medium-sized Hittite cities and displayed several characteristics of a central place, urbanized in comparison to its regional setting: monumental architecture; a citadel surrounded by a large set­ tlement; finds reflecting craft specialization and foreign contacts. It owed its prosperity at least partly to its geographic position at the crossing point of land routes from Anatolia to the Balkans and sea routes from the Aegean to the Black Sea. Because of prevailing northerly winds and strong currents, ships had to wait for favorable condi­ tions at the entrance into the Dardanelles. This could have put Troy in a position to control traf­ fic. While there is some archaeological evidence for Late Bronze Age contacts between the Aegean and the Black Sea, Minoan and Mycenaean pot­ tery has been found at Troy, but not along the shores of the Sea of Marmara or the Black Sea. This could mean that goods reached Troy from both directions, but had to be exchanged there. Late Bronze Age Troy may therefore have been the capital of a city-state controlling the

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surrounding landscape, the T r o a d . A s early as 1923-1924 Emil Forrer and Paul Kretschmer noted that some names on cuneiform tablets from the Hittite capital Hattusa were similar to names known from the Iliad: Wilusa-( W)ilios (a country), Alaksandu-ALEXANDiios (the Trojan prince P a r i s ’ other name), AnHiYAWA-Akhaioi (see A c h a e a n s ) . Most, but not all, scholars agree that Ahhiyawa was Mycenaean Greece or a part of it, Wilusa was a country in northwest Anatolia, and Troy most likely its capital. Around 1400 b c e Wilusa, then part o f the land o f Assuwa, made its appearance in Hittite sources. When the Arzawan prince Pijamaradu attacked Wilusa around 1300 B C E , its ruler Alaksandu signed a treaty with the Hittite king Muwattalli II. Wilusa became a vassal state o f the Hittite Empire. At the end of the 13th century b c e King Walmu of Wilusa was rein­ stalled to his throne with help from the Hittites. Conflicts between this kingdom of Wilusa and Mycenaean groups during the period of unrest at the end of the 2nd millennium are not unlikely (Niemeier 1999). Remembrance of such conflicts may have survived the fall of Troy, the Hittite Empire, and the Mycenaean palaces. This could have become the core of the story of the Trojan War (Latacz 2004). Given the fragmentary, some­ times ambiguous nature of the surviving evi­ dence, all this remains open to discussion (Korfmann 1997, Easton et al. 2002, Hertel and Kolb 2003, Jablonka and Rose 2004, Kolb 2004) and is based on circumstantial evidence, but it has the advantage of reconciling all available sources - archaeology, Hittite texts, and Greek epic tradition - in a consistent scenario. References and Suggested Readings Heuck Allen (1999; cf. Robinson 2007) tells the story of the discovery of Hisarlik-Troy. Easton (2002) gives a detailed account of Schliemann’s early excavations at Troy, very different from Schliemann’s (1880) own view. Dorpfeld (1968) describes the results of all exca­ vations from 1870 to 1894. Biegen et al. (1950, 1951, 1953, 1958) is the final publication of the American excavations from 1932 to 1938, followed by a short summary for the general reader (Biegen 1963). Reports on the ongoing excavations are published in Studia Troica (1991—2007); see also the exhibition catalogue Archäologisches Landesmuseum Baden-Württemberg et al. (2001) and the contributions in Korfmann (2006). Latacz (2004) draws the connecting lines between Homer, Troy, and Hittite sources. Bryce (2006) is a good

summary, placing the archaeology of Troy in a broader historical context. P E T E R JABLONKA

Troy VIII-IX. The designations “Troy VIII and IX” have traditionally been employed for the post-Bronze Age settlements of Troy, with VIII spanning a period from Protogeometric (see G eometric Period ) to Hellenistic (Fig. 37), and VIII generally encompassing both the Roman and Byzantine levels (Fig. 38). After the destruction at the end o f VIIb2 (ca. 1050 b c e ) , a few of the buildings were repaired, but the town was not systematically rebuilt as in earlier periods. Nevertheless, sealed strata datable to the 10th and 9th centuries have yielded Protogeometric pottery that can be paralleled in mainland Greece, and Ilion was clearly still part of an Aegean trade network at this time (Catling 1998). The fortunes of the city began to rise again dur­ ing the late 9th and 8th centuries b c e , judging by the evidence uncovered in the “West Sanctuary.” One of the late Bronze Age structures was reconstructed with an interior apsidal ash altar and benches inside and out. In the vicinity were nearly thirty stonepaved circles, about two meters in diameter, whose associated ceramic assemblages suggest f e a s t i n g . These structures lay within the shadow of the Troy VI citadel wall, which was still preserved to a height of nearly five meters, and they were probably intended for h e r o - c u l t (Basedow 2006). Toward the end o f the 7th century there was extensive new construction in the West Sanctuary, perhaps partly sponsored by Athens’ new colony at Sigeion, which lay approximately six kilometers from Ilion. One of the temples can be dated to the last quarter of the 7th century, approximately the same time in which Athens founded Sigeion. The construction of an even more elaborate temple in the Aeolic order (ca. 5 5 0 - 5 4 0 b c e ) coincided with the reestablishment of Pisistratid control at Sigeion, which had earlier been seized by L e s b o s . The Pisistratid victory at Sigeion and subsequent reentry into the affairs of the Troad nicely complement the tyrants’ incorporation of the Homeric epics into the Athenian Panathenaia, and the two should probably be viewed as components of the same political pro­ gram (Rose 2 0 0 6 ; see A t h e n s a n d H o m b r ) . The West Sanctuary also featured two walled precincts with stone altars (the “Upper” and

TROY

Fig. 37.

903

Troy VIII, ca. 100 b c e .

“Lower” Sanctuaries), around which were discov­ ered the bones of l i o n s , probably from skins that decorated the walls. In light of the fact that the Hellenistic/Roman levels of the West Sanctuary were filled with terracotta figurines of Kybele, it seems likely that either she or an Anatolian fertil­ ity goddess of similar character was the primary cult here. Ilion reached a higher level of prominence by the end of the 4th century due to her role as capital of a new Koinon of Troad cities that was centered on the Sanctuary of Athena Ilias. This league, composed of at least twelve cities, was probably established by Antigonus I in 310 when he founded the nearby city of Alexandria Troas. Using the cult of Athena Ilias as the bonding agent automatically extended the Homeric herit­ age o f the site to all o f the member cities, and immediately enhanced the status o f both the new

Koinon and its founder. As the primary visual manifestation o f its public identity, the Koinon chose the Panathenaia Festival, based on the one in Athens. The festival would have involved r h a p s o d e s singing parts of the Iliad in the city’s agora, which lay in front of the Troy VI fortifica­ tion wall, and the latter was undoubtedly pre­ sented as a remnant of Priam’s citadel (Rose 2003). This dependence on Athenian models would intensify in the second half of the 3rd century, when a new Athenaion was constructed on an enormous terrace that overlay most of the Troy VI citadel (Figs. 37 and 38). The temple was Doric, and decorated with metopes that featured a Gigantomachy (see G i a n t s ) , Iliupersis (see Sack of Ilion ), and Amazonomachy (see A m a z o n s ) ; it seems likely that a Centauromachy (see C e n t a u r s ) would have adorned the fourth side, in deliberate

904

Fig. 3 8 .

TROY

Troy IX , ca. 100

ce

.

imitation of the Parthenon’s decorative program, thereby supplying the perfect complement to the Koinon’s Panathenaia Festival. The enlarged Athenaion formed part of an ambitious building program that also included a new fortification wall encompassing the residen­ tial area of the Lower City. The money that funded the program appears to have come from Antioch us Hierax, who designated the Troad as the political and financial center o f his kingdom between 241 and 228 (Rose 1997). Ilion subsequently passed into the orbit o f the Attalids, who probably completed the Athenaion, and then the Romans, who had certainly acknowl­ edged their Trojan ancestry by the 3rd century B C E (see R e c e p t i o n , R o m a n ) . The city was nearly destroyed by the attacks o f the Roman legate Fimbria in 85 b c e , and the subsequent decline in the economy would not change until the reign of Augustus, who provided financial assistance to the Koinon and to Ilion. This marked a turning point for the city: during the remainder o f the 1st century c e a new Odeion was constructed, the agora was paved, and the theater was repaired;

eventually, probably under Vespasian, the West Sanctuary was also reconstructed. Several of the Homeric heroes now began to appear on the city’s coins, which probably constituted the primary souvenirs available at the site, and the Roman vet­ erans at the new colony of Alexandria Troas would undoubtedly have been frequent visitors. Life changed dramatically during the second half o f the 5 th century: the agora began to be used as a cemetery, and habitation essentially ended after a series of devastating earthquakes ca. 500 c e . The residents who survived now left in droves for the interior o f the Troad, reoccupying the countryside that was dominated by the monu­ mental tumuli of Archaic and Classical date. There is no evidence for renewed occupation at Ilion until the early 13th century, when the area was controlled by the Empire of Nicaea, but the evi­ dence consists only o f three cemeteries. References and Suggested Readings The results of all excavations conducted since 1988 have appeared in the annual journal Stadia Troica (Philipp von Zabern), of which eighteen volumes have

TYPE-SCEN ES been published. See also Rose 1997,2003,2006; Catling 1998; Basedow 2006. C. BRIA N RO SE

Tychios (Tuxíoç) The name of the leather-cutter (skutotomos) from H y l e who made the body s h i e l d of A j a x t h e G r e a t e r (//. 7.219-223). The name, simply meaning “maker” (from teukhô, “to produce”; cf. H a r m o n i d e s ) , is undoubtedly the poet’s invention: “such a famous shield seems to the poet to need the name of a particular maker” (Willcock 1978,255). S ee a lso H a n d i c r a f t s . M ARGALIT FIN K ELBERG

905

when she saw him gulping down his enemy’s brains (Thebaid fr. 9 West = schol. D on II. 5.126: schol. AbT on 5.126 gives Pherecydes as the source, see fr. 97 Jacoby = Fowler). According to the I l i a d , Tydeus was buried at Thebes (II. 14.114; Paus. 9.18.2), but nine Middle and Late Helladic graves at Eleusis surrounded with a wall in the G e o m e t r i c period may be those shown as the graves of the Seven (plus Adrastos and Amphiaraos) (Paus. 1.39.2). See also T h e b a n

C ycle.

References and Suggested Readings Alden 2000, 114-123, 137-149, 164-167; Mylonas 1975-1976, voL 2, 153-154, 262-264, 326 and vol. 3, pis. A and 145. MAUREEN ALDEN

Tydeus (TuSeúç) Son of O i n e u s and Periboia (Thebaid fr. 5 West; [Hes.] fr. 12 M-W), grand­ son of P o r t h e u s , and father of D i o m e d e s (who cites his g e n e a l o g y to add weight to his advice) (II. 14.113-127), left A e t o l i a after killing a relative or relatives ([Hes.] Cat, 10a.50-56; Alkmeonis fr. 4 West = Apollod. 1.8.5). Ferocious, if short in stature (II. 5.801). In A r g o s , A d r a s t o s (1) recognized in him the boar (and in P o l y n e i k e s the lion) to whom A p o l l o had told him to give his daughters (Eur. Supp. 139-146; Hyg. Fab. 69), and gave him farmland, orchards, cattle,- and the hand of his daughter, Deipyle (Pherecydes fr. 122 Jacoby = Fowler). Tydeus was one of seven champions led by Adrastos to restore Polyneikes to the Theban throne: unfavo­ rable o m e n s thwarted his attempt to raise troops in M y c e n a e (II. 4.376-381). A t h e n e and A g a m e m n o n taunt Diomedes with his father’s bravery on a lone embassy to T h e b e s (presuma­ bly to negotiate with E t e o k l e s ) : Tydeus chal­ lenged the Thebans to athletic contests, which he won (with Athene’s help): he killed forty-nine of their fifty ambushers on his way back to the army, sending the news to Thebes via the survi­ vor (4.382-398, 5.801-808; see M a i o n ) . Diomedes cites Athene’s protection of Tydeus on this embassy in two p r a y e r s for her assistance (5.115-120,10.284-290). Tydeus was mortally wounded by Melanippos, whom A m p h i a r a o s then killed, giving the head to Tydeus: Athene, who was about to confer immortality on Tydeus, took it away in disgust

Tyndareos (Tuvôápeoç) Son o f Oibalos of L a c e d a e m o n ([Hes.] fr. 199 M -W ), and hus­ band o f L e d e , by whom he is father o f Kastor and Polydeukes (Od. 11.298-299; see D i o s c u r i ) , and K l y t a i m n e s t r a (24.199); in Homer H e l e n is the daughter o f Z e u s (II. 3.199,418,426; Od. 4.184 and 219,23.218). In “ H e s i o d ,” Tyndareos’ daughters are Klytaimnestra, Timandra, and Phylonoe ([Hes.] fr. 23a M -W ), but he received Helen’s suitors as though her father (frs. 199, 204.61-62), and when he incurred A p h r o d i t e ’s wrath for overlooking her in a s a c r i f i c e , she punished him by cursing his daughters, including Helen, with unfaithfulness ([Hes.] fr. 176 M -W ). K . JAN ET WATSON

Type-Scenes A type-scene is an oft-repeated block o f words and phrases arranged in a char­ acteristic sequence that describes a commonly occurring activity in Homer, such as s u p p l i c a ­ t i o n , l i b a t i o n , f e a s t i n g , or dreaming (see D r e a m s ) . The term typischen Scenen was coined by Walter Arend (1933), who diagrammed scenes o f arrival, s a c r i f i c e and eating, journeys by land and sea, arming and dressing, sleeping, delibera­ tion, a s s e m b l y , OATH-taking, and b a t h i n g , noting the regular sequence o f constituent ele­ ments but also acknowledging that some variety is achieved by the relative extent of elaboration of these elements. Arend philosophically,

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even mystically, attributed the ubiquity of typescenes in Homer to a peculiar Greek compre­ hension o f reality, which in the midst o f plurality was able to see right through to the essential. This was an improvement from the earlier A n a l y s t critics, who, applying an inappropriate literary standard to the text of Homer, cut out these “needless” repetitions as un-Homeric. However, Arend did not appreciate the much more practical function o f type-scenes as a tool o f p e r f o r m a n c e for the extemporaneously composing oral poet (C o m p o s it io n i n - P e r p o r m a n c e ) ; this discovery was left for Milman P a r r y (MHV, 404-407, 439-464), Albert L o r d (1951,1960,68-98), and their suc­ cessors, who rightly perceived that there was nothing peculiarly Greek about type-scenes, as they are common compositional elements in many o f the world’s s t o r y t e l l i n g traditions (see O r a l T r a d i t i o n s ) . The terminology applied to these composi­ tional elements remains loose and varied, the same general concept being conveyed by the terms “type-scene,” “typical scene,” “ t h e m e ,” “motif,” and “motif sequence.” Compositional processes similar to those of type-scenes can be observed at every level o f Homeric language. Just as Homeric l a n g u a g e is very formulaic at the lower level of diction, with a host of ornamental e p i t h e t s available to describe every object (“sil­ ver-studded s w o r d ” ) and character (“fair-robed N a u s i c a a ” ) , and half- and whole-line formulaic phrases with which to describe every regularly occurring action (“he fell with a thud, and his armor clattered about him”) (see F o r m u l a ) , s o is Homeric language formulaic at the higher level of n a r r a t i v e , with an array o f type-scenes available to narrate every commonly occurring event or circumstance: launching a ship, arming for battle, sacrificing a cow, and so forth. At an even higher level, one may speak of larger narrative sections or patterns: a n g e r and withdrawal, return and reconciliation, the a r i s t e i a o f a warrior, a return home after a long absence, and so forth. Typescenes, then, fall somewhere in the middle o f these categories. A survey of the four most extensive a r m i n g s c e n e s in the I l i a d is illustrative o f the imple­ mentation of type-scenes as a whole. The first arming-scene - that of P a r i s before his d u e l with M e n e l a o s - is the shortest and most com­

pact (3.328-338). The scene includes all the regu­ lar components o f a typical arming-scene: an introductory line or two identifying the hero; three lines describing the greaves and breastplate; five lines describing the sword, s h i e l d , helmet, and spear, always in that order (see W e a p o n s a n d A r m o r ) . Yet, even while working within these strictures, the poet manipulates the material with variation and expansion. In fact the very conven­ tionality of the type-scenes causes any variation or elaboration of them to be that much more effective poetically. Eight of the nine lines o f Paris’ arming-scene are conventional; the one line that is not (333) serves to remind the audience, in a rather startling way, that Paris is not a conven­ tional warrior. He has to borrow a breastplate from his brother, for Paris is an archer who lurks behind the lines, not a heavy-armed warrior (see A r c h e r y ) . This one jarring line leaves no doubt as to the outcome o f his subsequent duel with Menelaos. The second arming-scene - that of A g a m e m n o n (11.15-46) - includes all the components o f Paris’ arming-scene, and in the same sequence, but it is greatly elaborated by an extended description o f his breastplate (nine lines) and shield (eight lines), and con­ cluded with a special thunderclap from the g o d s . This elaboration and ornamentation of the typical scene elevates the arming o f the "lord of men Agamemnon” to an appropriately impressive level, preparing the way for his momentous aristeia. The third arming-scene — that o f P a t r o k l o s (16.130-144) - is very simi­ lar to that o f Paris, except for the notable variation that Patroklos is not putting on his own armor, but rather that o f A c h i l l e s , in order that he might deceive the enemy. The most striking variation from the norm, how­ ever, is the description o f what Patroklos does not take: “Only the spear o f blameless Achilles did he not take; heavy, great, and strong, which no other of the Achaeans was able to wield, but Achilles alone was able to wield it (16.140142). This remarkable inversion o f the custom­ ary arming-scene foreshadows to the audience Patroklos’ impending doom (see F o r e ­ s h a d o w i n g ) . That he cannot wield Achilles’ spear is symbolic o f the futility o f trying to play his master’s role. The fourth and final arming-scene - that o f Achilles (19.364-391)

TY PHO EUS

- again includes all the typical components in the same order, but it is greatly embellished with additional description and ornamented with a long s i m i l e of the glitter o f the golden shield and helmet, thereby creating a tenor worthy o f the climax of the epic: the return of Achilles into battle. The same sort of artistry can be observed in the progression of supplication and assembly scenes in the Iliad, r e c o g n i t i o n and feasting scenes in the O d y s s e y , and sacrifice scenes in both epics. A less well-known, but equally artistic, sequence is the “dog at the door” typescene, in which a newly arrived stranger con­ fronts a guard dog at the door. This type-scene occurs five times in the Odyssey in a variety of forms, the unique properties of each occur­ rence providing a special aura and significance to its respective scene. The immortal g o l d and s i l v e r dogs, the work o f H e p h a i s t o s , that guard the palace of the P h a e a c i a n king A l k i n o o s , hint at the supernatural qualities of the inhabitants and contribute to the extrava­ gant splendor o f the palace, which inspires the newly arrived O d y s s e u s with awe (7.91-94). The eerie reception of Odysseus’ men by the enchanted wolves and mountain l i o n s sur­ rounding K i r k e ’s palace, which fawn on the men and wag their tails at them like d o g s greet­ ing their master, foreshadows the danger of enchantment that awaits them in the palace (10.212-219). The four dogs of E u m a i o s , which, like wild beasts, attack Odysseus and force him to sit helplessly on the ground, even as he arrives “at his own steading," presage his treatment at the hands of the S u i t o r s in his own home and symbolize the initial helpless­ ness o f the returned master (14.21-22, 29-32). Later, upon the arrival of T e l e m a c h o s , these same dogs do not bark but with fawning and tail-wagging welcome a master whom they rec­ ognize (16.4-10). Then, in a rather humorous finale to this series, these same dogs, upon the arrival of A t h e n e , cower, with a whimper, to the other side o f the steading (16.162-163). The culmination of this progression of recep­ tions of strangers by dogs at the door is Odysseus’ reception by his old dog A r g o s (17.291-327). It is a powerful scene. The old, flea-bitten dog, neglected by the h o u s e h o l d , lying in dung outside the door, is a sympathetic

907

representation of his master: Odysseus too will be abused and neglected. Thus we can see that in type-scenes both large and small the poet relies on the usual template o f components but at the same time creates an aes­ thetic tension through the contraction, expan­ sion, and manipulation of these components. This manipulation itself is part of the traditional way of handling these inherited conventions, so the development of a proper aesthetics of oral poetry relies on an appreciation o f the individual poet’s interaction with his tradition. See also S t y l e . References and Suggested Readings The bibliography on type-scenes is vast. Edwards 1992 is a very useful annotated bibliography of work on type-scenes from 1933 to 1992. General works on the function and aesthetics of type-scenes include: Arend 1933; Calhoun 1933; Lord 1951, 1960, 68-98; Russo 1968; Gunn 1971; Nagler 1974,64-130; Edwards. 1980b; Foley 1990a, 240-277. On individual type-scenes: arm­ ing (Armstrong 1958a), battle (Fenik 1968; Krischer 1971; see Battle-Scenes), supplication (Thornton 1984), sacrifice (Kirk 1981, 62-68), prayer (Muellner 1976), l a m e n t (Petersmann 1973), h o s p i t a l i t y (Edwards 1975; Reece 1993), recognition (Gainsford 2003), conference sequence (Hansen 1972), assembly (Bannert 1987), dream (Morris 1983). STEV E T. REECE

Typhoeus (Tu I n v e n t­ in g A n c ie n t C u ltu r e: H is to r ic is m , P e r io d iz a t io n a n d t h e A n c ie n t W o rld . London: Routledge, 96-131.

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