“Tyranny happens—even though it is so great an evil in scope and kind—from nothing else but lawlessness. All people who think incorrectly believe that tyranny develops from some other cause and that people lose their freedom without being responsible for it because they were forced by the tyrant who came to power. But they do not reason correctly.
Whoever believes that a king or tyrant arises for any other reason than a disregard for the laws and greed is a fool. Whenever everyone focuses on base motives, then this is how it turns out. It is impossible for people to live without laws and justice. When these two things are neglected by the majority of the people—the law and justice—then their oversight and safety is transferred to a single person. For how could a monarchy fall to a single person unless the law which was common and advantageous to all were removed?”
“They took Melanthios out through the hall and into the courtyard.
They cut off his nose and ears with pitiless bronze.
Then they cut off his balls and fed them raw to the dogs;
And they cut off his hands and feet with an enraged heart.”
“If this one defeats you and proves stronger,
I will send you to the shore, throw you in a black ship,
And ship you off to king Ekhetos, the most wicked man of all.
He will cut off your nose and ears with pitiless bronze
And after severing your balls, he will feed them raw to his dogs.”
“Ekhetos was the son of Boukhetos, after whom there is also a city named in Sicily. He is said to have been tyrant of the Sicilians. The story is that he did every kind of mischief to the inhabitants of his land and killed foreigners by mutilating them. He exhibited so much wickedness that even those who lived far off would send people to him to kill when they wanted to punish someone. He developed all kinds of unseemly methods. This is why the people would not endure so bitter a tyranny, and they killed him by stoning.”
A lingering interpretive problem for the Odyssey is why the epic introduces this torture and attributes it to a very bad person, only to have Odysseus commit the very same act later in the epic. A pressing question for modern readers of Homer is why so few of us have bothered to worry about this at all.
Combined with the hanging of the enslaved women, this should be an indictment of Odysseus and support for the rebellion against him in book 24.
From the Suda:
“Tyrannos: The poets before the Trojan War used to name kings (basileis) tyrants, but later during the time of Archilochus, this word was transferred to the Greeks in general, just as the sophist Hippias records. Homer, at least, calls the most lawless man of all, Ekhetos, a king, not a tyrant. Tyrant is a a name that derives from the Tyrrenians because these men were quite severe pirates.* None of the other poets uses the name tyrant in any of their works. But Aristotle in the Constitution of the Cumaeans says that tyrants were once called aisumnêtai, because this name is a bit of a euphemism.”
Dissent and Freedom of Speech in the Achaean Assembly in Iliad 9
This post is a continuation of my substack on the Iliad. All proceeds from the substack are donated to classics adjacent non-profits on a monthly basis. Last year this substack provided over $2k in charitable donations.
At the beginning of book 9, Agamemnon addresses the assembly as he weeps (13-16) and repeats much of his “test” in book 2, but this time he may be serious: he really wants to go home. As the Achaeans stand silent in response, Diomedes reprimanding him:
Iliad 9.29-51
“So Agamemnon spoke and everyone sat there in silence. The sons of the Achaeans were quiet for a long time. Then finally, indeed, Diomedes, good at the war cry, spoke among them. “Son of Atreus, I will fight with you first when you’re being foolish. This is right, lord, in the assembly. So don’t get angry at all. You have reproached my bravery among the Danaans, Calling me a coward and not a warrior. Everyone knows These things, the young and the old Argives alike. But the son of crooked minded Kronos gave you a double-sided gift: He granted that you be honored above everyone because of your scepter, But he did not grant you courage, and this is the mightiest thing of all. Godly one, do you really expect the songs of the Achaeans To all be cowards and unwarlike as you claim here in public? If your heart really urges you to go home, Then go. The road is there. Your ships are near the sea, The many ships that followed you here from Mycenae. But the rest of the long-haired Achaeans will stay here Until we sack Troy. But even if they want, let them flee In their ships back to their dear homelands. The two of us—Sthenelos and I—we will fight until we find the end Of Troy. For we came here with the god.” So he spoke, and all of the songs of the Achaeans shouted out, Praising the speech of Diomedes, the tamer of horses.
This speech has been important in looking at the politics of the Iliad and among the Achaeans in general. Richard Martin has looked at this speech and Nestor’s response as part of positioning the old Pylian as the epic’s ideal speaker (1989, 91), while Dean Hammer (2002), Elton Barker (2009) and David Elmer (2015) have seen Diomedes’ intervention as important in signaling either extant or developing rules about speech in public. In short, Diomedes can be seen as establishing the right to dissent from the king in public for the public good.
And, yet, the story isn’t as simple as that, because Nestor needs to intervene
Iliad. 9.63-65
‘Son of Tydeus, you are strong in war and in counsel you are the best among all those your age. Surely no one will reproach this speech, however many Achaians there are, nor will anyone speak back, but you have not reached the fullness of speech (télos múthôn). Really, you are young, and you could even be my child, the youngest by birth, but you utter knowing things before the kings of the Argives, since you speak according to tradition (katà moîran). But come, I, who proclaim to be older than you, will speak out and go through everything, no one will dishonor my mûthos, not even strong Agamemnon. Brotherless, lawless, and homeless is that man who longs for horrible civil war.’
Nestor’s speech reflects the danger imminent in Diomedes’ words. But his response is agile and sensitive to the situation. Nestor endorses Diomedes’ dissent while simultaneously mitigating its effects. He concedes that Diomedes has spoken katá moîran, but adds thathe, who is older, will explain everything). That Nestor in no way contradicts Diomedes’ claim that it is right (thémis) to fight with a foolish leader in the assembly (agorê) implies a tacit approval of this contention.
Nestor continues with a subtle affirmation of and remonstration with Tydeus’ son—he diminishes Diomedes’ standing, appropriates his words, and amplifies his own position before he proceeds to advise. He does this by first reasserting the importance of his age—he compliments Diomedes, but reminds him that, by virtue of his youth, he is inferior in boulê. Nestor, however, hedges his compliments with one reservation: Diomedes’ has not reached the télosmúthôn.
François vase
What does this phrase mean? The A scholia gloss it as “you will not place a completion on your words” (Schol. A Il. 9.56 ex. 1-2. Cf. Schol. D Il. 9.56 ex. 3-8.). Cedric Whitman suggests that Nestor criticizes Diomedes for stopping short, that there is more to be said (1958, 167). One implication is that Diomedes fails to do what Nestor does, namely, to dissolve the assembly and cope with Agamemnon’s crisis in the council of kings where he proposes clear and pragmatic alternatives to Agamemnon’s foolishness. This suggestion is echoed by the D scholia (Schol. D Il. 9.56 ex. 3-8).
A scarcity of parallels inhibits a complete analysis of the phrase télosmúthôn, but there are enough to make a start. Martin’s refinement of the meaning of mûthos as either a command/proposal, or a boast/threat provides a useful starting point. Near the end of book 9 (9.625) Ajax tells Odysseus that the embassy should leave because there will not be a a completion or fulfillment of the mûthos (Nestor’s plan to propitiate Achilles), i.e., it will not achieve its intended perlocutionary effect. In book 16, Achilles requests for Patroklos to assent to his words and follow his plan completely (16.83:). In book 19 Agamemnon’s Hera taunts Zeus by claiming that he will not place a télos on his mûthos (107), which also signals a completion or fulfillment of the proposal/plan made in his speech (that a son, born that day, would reign among men). Again, in book 20, Hektor assures the Trojans that Achilles will not bring a completion to his plans or threats (369). Finally, in book 16, when Patroklos tells Meriones to stop taunting since “the télos of war is in hands, and the télos of words in council” (16.630) it seems that words find their télos (in an Aristotelian sense) in council.
Athenian Ostrakon (piece of pottery inscribed with the name of a politician proposed for exile by popular vote, the so-called “ostracism”). This specimens propose the name of Xanthippos, who was submitted to the vote in the 484 BC. On display in the Ancient Agora Museum in Athens, housed in the Stoa of Attalus. Picture by Giovanni Dall’Orto, November 9 2009.
The “fullness of múthoi” implies a recognition of traditional “rules” of critical speech, including identity of speaker, propriety of speech-type and accord with speech-context as well as an emphasis on the outcome of the speech, that a “full” mûthos in the context of the assembly offers a plan in such a way that the speaker achieves his intended effect and contributes to social cohesion. Nestor’s subsequent words offer supporting details for these rules.
First, Nestor takes great pains to remind Diomedes of his youth. While declaring the unassailability of his own words, Nestor implies that Diomedes is “out of line” because of his age. Second, Nestor’s remarkably strong condemnation of civil strife evokes the destabilizing threat of Diomedes’ dissent. The social context (in front of the whole assembly) of Diomedes’ criticism represents a threat to the social order (but, surely, no less a threat than Agamemnon’s cowardice represents to the safety of the army). Finally, Nestor’s own words are instructive for what Diomedes should have done. In his speech he dissolves the assembly and calls for Agamemnon to hold a boulê, and it is there where he is critical of the king andformulates a course of action.
Thus, I believe that the phrase télos múthôn conveys an array of meanings. On one level, Nestor may imply that Diomedes’ “plan” to take Troy alone is untenable. On another, the phrase conveys traditional guidelines or limits on the use of speech. Such criticism of the commander-in-chief in the context of the assembly is dangerous for the Achaians and may be beyond the acceptable norm for the youngest of the gérontes. Diomedes’ challenge has the potential to confuse the assembly and further destabilize Achaian authority. Rather than allow another argument (Achilles and Agamemnon in book 1) or leaving space for a negative appraisal of the king (Thersites) Nestor, as neutrally as possible, ends the assembly and deals with Agamemnon in the more private context of the council.
As I argue in a few places, I believe that the Iliad uses Diomedes to demonstrate how a younger man may develop into a stronger role through public speaking. For illustration, I include a brief summary of his story:
(1) Diomedes (implicitly) witnesses the actions and speeches of Iliad 1-3
(2) D. shows he knows the appropriate parameters for political and martial speech (Il. 4)
(3) D. practices public speech and is acclaimed by all the Achaians in his refusal of Paris’ offer to return the gifts but not Helen (7.400-2). Acclamation (7.403-4)
(4) D. practices public speech in criticizing Agamemnon and is acclaimed by all (9.50-1) but is criticized by Nestor for not reaching the télosmúthôn (9.53-62). Acclamation (9.50-1)
(5) D. practices public speech in reaction to Achilles’ rejection of the assembly (9.697-709) and is acclaimed by all the kings. Acclamation (9.710-11)
(6) D. volunteers to go on a nocturnal spying mission during the council of kings and is encouraged by Agamemnon to choose any companion he wants regardless of nobility (10.219-39)
(7) D. executes public critical speech and offers a plan (14.110-32). He is obeyed by all the kings and departs from the epic as a speaker. Acclamation (14.133)
Note the increasing political impact of Diomedes’ speeches and the corresponding development in who approves his oratory.
When we talk about freedom of speech, it is political: it is dissent from the status quo. It also functions to reinforce who matters within a community. In the earliest Ancient Greek reflection on public speech, the right to dissent is essential when the Iliad’s Agamemnon brings a plague upon his people and Achilles challenges. Of course, the story is complex: Thersites in the second book is prevented by who he is from criticizing the king. His body, his voice, his departure from normal conventions and appearance, disqualify him from making the very same arguments Achilles made in book 1. In contrast, the Achilles-replacement Diomedes asserts in book 9 that it is right to argue with a foolish king in public.
From what we now call Classical Greece, we find parrhêsia, what a modern free speech advocate might call “frank and open debate”—for criticizing your friends in private and also for expressing unpopular opinions in public for the benefit of the state. In addition, “equal access to public speech” (isêgoria) promises that each citizen be given that opportunity. Sure, speech that is just about one’s own opinion–or personal brand–is ‘protected’ in the U.S., but is it sacred in the way so many claim?
Any notion of free speech from this perspective is rooted in its contribution to the public good. But who gets to contribute is constrained by who counts. In the Iliad, the ugly and disabled Thersites is beaten for speaking freely. In the United States, cries lamenting lost freedom of speech have long been rooted in supporting the status quo rather than increasing and encouraging political participation. Consider how the chartering of the right to political speech in the Iliad is explored within the frame of balancing the character of the body of the speaker against the safety of the body politic.
Terracotta column-krater (bowl for mixing wine and water). Attributed to the Group of Boston 00.348. ca. 360–350 BCE
A Short bibliography on Diomedes
n.b this is not an exhaustive bibliography. If you’d like anything else included, please let me know.
Andersen, Öivind. 1978. Die Diomedesgestalt in der Ilias. Oslo.
Barker, Elton T. E. “Achilles’ Last Stand: Institutionalising Dissent in Homer’s Iliad.” PCPS 50 (2004) 92-120.
—,—. Entering the Agôn: Dissent and Authority in Homer, Historiography and Tragedy. Oxford, 2009.
Burgess, Jonathan. 2001. The Tradition of the Trojan War in Homer and the Epic Cycle. Baltimore.
—,—. 2009. The Death and Afterlife of Achilles. Baltimore.
Christensen, Joel P. 2009. “The End of Speeches and a Speech’s End: Nestor, Diomedes, and the telos muthôn.” in Kostas Myrsiades (ed.). Reading Homer: Film and Text.Farleigh Dickinson University Press, 136-62.
Christensen, Joel P. and Barker, Elton T. E.. “On not remembering Tydeus: Agamemnon, Diomedes and the contest for Thebes.” Materiali e Discussioni per l’Analisi dei Testi Classici, no. 66, 2011, pp. 9-44.
Christensen, Joel P. 2015. “Diomedes’ Foot-wound and the Homeric Reception of Myth.” In Diachrony, Jose Gonzalez (ed.). De Gruyter series, MythosEikonPoesis. 2015, 17–41.
Gantz, Timothy. 1993. Early Greek Myth. Baltimore.
Griffin, Jasper. 1980. Homer on Life and Death. Oxford: Oxford University Press.
—,—.2001. “The Epic Cycle and the Uniqueness of Homer.” in Cairns 2001: 363-84.
Hammer, Dean.“‘Who Shall Readily Obey?” Authority and Politics in the Iliad.” Phoenix 51 (1997) 1-24.
—,—. “The Politics of the Iliad.” CJ (1998) 1-30.
—,—. The Iliad as Politics: The Performance of Political Thought. Norman: University of Oklahoma Press, 2002.
Irene J. F. de Jong. “Convention versus Realism in the Homeric Epics.” Mnemosyne 58, no. 1 (2005): 1–22. http://www.jstor.org/stable/4433613.
Kakridis, Johannes Th. 1949. Homeric Researches. Lund.
Kakridis, Phanis, J. 1961. “Achilles’ Rüstung.” Hermes 89: 288-97.
Lohmann, Dieter. 1970. Dieter Lohmann. Die Komposition der Reden in der Ilias. Berlin.
Mühll, Peter von der. 1952. Kritisches Hypomena zur Ilias. Basel.
Nagy, Gregory. 1979. The Best of the Achaeans. Baltimore.
Nickel, Roberto. 2002. “Euphorbus and the Death of Achilles.” Phoenix 56: 215-33.
Pache, Corinne. 2009. “The Hero Beyond Himself: Heroic Death in Ancient Greek Poetry and Art.” in Sabine Albersmeir (ed.). Heroes: Mortals and Myths in ancient Greece. Baltimore (Walters Art Museum): 89-107.
Redfield, James. 1994. Nature and Culture in the Iliad: The Tragedy of Hektor. Chicago.
—,—. 2001. “A ‘Beautiful Death’ and the Disfigured Corpse.” in Cairns 2001: 311-41.
Rose, P. W. “Thersites and the Plural Voices of Homer.” Arethusa 21 (1988) 5-25.
—,—. “Ideology in the Iliad: Polis, Basileus, Theoi.” Arethusa 30 (1997) 151-99.
“These examples are enough I think to understand the opinion your forefathers had against those who broke the laws. I still want to remind you of the monument in the Senate house which recalls traitors and those who destroy the democracy. For I make your judgement easy if I provide you with many examples.
After the reign of the Thirty, your fathers, who had suffered the kinds of things from fellow citizens no Greek ever would have considered and who barely made it back to their own land, blocked every avenue to crime because they learned from experience and knew which offices and approaches were open to those who would dissolve the democracy.
They decreed by vote and by oath that anyone who came upon someone trying to establish a tyranny, betraying the state or overthrowing democracy would not be considered guilty for killing them because it seemed better to them that people who were pursuing these actions should die than they should suffer being enslaved to them. For they believed foremost that citizens should live in such away as to never come into suspicion for these crimes.”
“Custom, the king of everything,
Of mortals and immortal alike,
Guides them with the final hand
To the most violent kinds of justice.
I’ll prove this
With the deeds of Herakles
Since he drove the cattle of Geryon
To the Cyclopean gates of Eurystheus
Unpunished and unpaid.
“But when a person comes around with sufficient nature, he shakes off and shatters all these things [laws], escaping them. He tramples all over our precedents and edicts, our pronouncements and all the laws that a contrary to his nature, and our slave rises up to become our master and clearly shows the justice of nature. This is what Pindar seems to indicate in that song when he says…”
Last week we held our (first?) Homer and Artificial Intelligence Workshop and it was fascinating. The conversations provided new directions, new questions, and some new ways for thinking about applying modern technology to ancient epic. I recorded and posted the video on youtube (with one section removed to protect unpublished material). Below are some notes as well.
A Quick Primer on Modern Computing: Statistics, LLMs, and AI (20-25 minutes)
John Pavlopoulos
JP gave an overview of how to use relative frequencies of n-grams, basic probability, and language models in Python and demonstrated how he trained a model on the first book of the Iliad to generate pseudo-Greek.
He then showed a model based on perplexity (the distance from expected outcomes of strings of letters based on the models included) and answered questions about misconceptions about statistical models. JP suggested that a signal problem is “If you torture the data enough, it will produce results.”
Research Presentation: Maria Konstantidou, John Pavlopoulos, Elton Barker
MK, JP, and EB presented some of their work using perplexity based statistical models to consider the Iliad, Odyssey and their traditions. They have created correlation maps of each epic and compared them
Some of their results show that Iliad 10 and Odyssey 24 are not outliers and that there are important statistical correlations across books that also have thematic affinities
In his response, SS talked about how to define the relationship between some of the statistical models and what we call Homer. He asked pressing questions about the methodology and the ‘tokens’ that correlate to the differences in Odyssey 9-12. He also talked about the importance of statistical models to Homeric studies historically and pragmatically
Research Presentation: Chiara Bozzone, Ryan Sandell, LMU München
CB and RS presented some results of their work based on authorship attribution models to examine the Iliad and the Odyssey. This approach shows that no clear stylistic node dominates all of both epics and the evidence indicates two poems from similar traditions (but separate ‘authors’) subject to later additions.
Response and Questions: Justin Arft, UT Knoxville
JA’s response asked questions about the correlation heatmaps from the work of JP, MK, and EB, and how different results might issue from training on bigrams or different characters. He focused on some concrete examples to help to illustrate how the selection of passages and selection of detail may alter the results
Bozzone, Chiara. “HoLM: Analyzing the Linguistic Unexpectedness in Homeric Poetry.” With John Pavlopoulos, Ryan Sandell, and Maria Konstantinidou. LREC-COLING 2024, 8166–8172. https://aclanthology.org/2024.lrec-main.715.pdf
Bozzone, Chiara. “One or Many Homers? Using Quantitative Authorship Analysis to Study the Homeric Question.” With Ryan Sandell. In David M. Goldstein, Stephanie W. Jamison, and Brent Vine (eds.). Proceedings of the 32nd Annual UCLA Indo-European Conference. Hamburg: Buske.
Computational Research Labs in Classics Departments: Lab-Based Frameworks for Scholarship and Funding (10-15 minutes) Annie K. Lamar, UCSB
AKL presented some of her efforts to train students on computational research and set these in relief to the structural challenges of doing so in higher ed. For more information, see the Lorel Lab homepage
Response and Questions: Suzanne Lye, UNC Chapel Hill (10-15 minutes)
SL discussed a Classics Lab at UNC and the importance of cross training within a hybrid humanities model. She emphasized the need for institutional support for interdisciplinary research and training.
Research Presentation: Some Homeric Challenges to Machine Learning, Barbara Graziosi, Johannes Haubold, Jacob Murel, Princeton University (10-15 minutes)
JH and JM presented on overview of the Logion project at Princeton, a project that aims ”to develop an NLP tool that aids the restoration and elucidation of premodern Greek text”. They provided a demonstration of how they have used the text with authors like Michael Psellus and how they plan to use it in the future. It uses a large database to provide likely completions to incomplete manuscripts but needs a human philologist to judge the merit and accuracy. We discussed additional challenges for developing Logion for metrical texts and the challenges of considering homogenization through editorial processes over time.
Heraclitus the Commentator, in defending the application of allegorical readings to Homer, argues that allegory is of considerable antiquity—used clearly by Archilochus when he compares the troubles of a war (fr. 54) and Alcaeus, who “compares the troubles of a tyranny to the turmoil of a stormy sea.” (τὰς γὰρ τυραννικὰς ταραχὰς ἐξ ἴσου χειμερίῳ προσεικάζει καταστήματι θαλάττης, Homeric Problems 5.8)
Alcaeus, fr. 326
“I cannot make sense of the clash of the winds
One wave whirls from this side,
Another wave comes from the other, and we in the middle
Are borne in our dark ship
Toiling ever on in this great storm.
The swell has taken he mast
And the sail is completely transparent—
There are great tears through it
And the anchors have broken free…”
Alcaeus, fr. 6a [P. Oxy. 1789 1 i 15–19, ii 1–17, 3 i, 12 + 2166(e)4]
“Now this higher wave comes harder than the one before
And will bring us much toil to face
When it overcomes the ship
Let us strengthen the ship’s sides
As fast as we can and hurry into a safe harbor.
Let no weak hesitation take anyone.
For a great contest is clearly before us.
Recall your previous toil.
Today, let every man be dedicated.
And may we never cause shame
To our noble parents who lie beneath the earth”
On the internal surface, around the rim, four ships. Cemetery of Ancient Thera. 3rd quarter of the 6th cent. BC Archaeological Museum of Thera.
Schol. ad. Od. 8.17 (On why Odysseus is only responsible for the companions in his particular ship)
“According to the proverb “Common ship, common safety”
κατὰ τὴν παροιμίαν “κοινὴ ναῦς κοινὴ σωτηρία,”
Pindar, Nem. 6. 52-56
“Older poets found these things
To be an elevated roadway;
I follow it even though I have concern–
The wave that is always turning
Right into the front of the ship
Is said to cause everyone’s heart
The most trouble.”
“Generally, then, if one wants to examine it carefully, you will find Odysseus’ wandering to be an allegory. Homer has positioned Odysseus as some kind of an instrument of every kind of virtue and he has used him to philosophize, since he hated the wickedness which governs human life.
The land of the Lotus-eaters, a farm of exotic temptation, represents the temptation of pleasure through which Odysseus sailed in perfect control. He snuffs out the savage anger of each of us with the advice from his words as if cauterizing it. This anger is named the Cyclops, the one who steals away [hypoklôpôn] our faculties of reason.
What of this—does it not seem that Odysseus who ‘overcame the winds’ was the first to anticipate fair sailing through his knowledge of the stars? And he was superior to Kirkê’s drugs because he discovered a cure for addictive delicacies thanks to his deep wisdom.
And his intelligence extends even to Hades so that nothing in the underworld might go unexplored. Who listens to the Sirens and learns a diverse history of all time? Charybdis is an obvious name for luxury and endless drinking. Homer has allegorized manifold shamelessness in Skylla, which is why she would logically have a belt of dogs, guardians for her rapacity, daring, and pugnacity. The cattle of the sun are about controlling your eating—for he would not even allow starvation to be a compulsion to do injustice.
These stories were told mythically for their audiences, if someone delves into the allegorized wisdom, it will be the most useful to those who apprehend it.”
“It is impossible to really learn a man’s
mind, thought and opinion before he’s been initiated
into the offices and laws of the state.
Indeed—whoever attempts to direct the country
but does not make use of the best advice
as he keeps his tongue frozen out of fear
Seems to me to be the worst kind of person now and long ago.
Anyone who thinks his friend is more important than the country,
I say that they live nowhere.
May Zeus who always sees everything witness this:
I could never be silent when I saw ruin
Overtaking my citizens instead of safety.
And I could never make my country’s enemy a friend
For myself, because I know this crucial thing: The state is the ship which saves us And we may make friends only if it remains afloat.”
Consider this how this could turn out on many ships or even just one: there is a captain of some size and strength beyond the rest of the men in the ship, but he is deaf and similarly limited at seeing, and he knows as much about sailing as these qualities might imply. So, the sailors are struggling with one another about steering the ship, because each one believes that he should be in charge, even though he has learned nothing of the craft nor can indicate who his teacher was nor when he had the time to learn. Some of them are even saying that it is not teachable, and that they are ready to cut down the man who says it can be taught.
They are always hanging all over the captain asking him and making a big deal of the fact that he should entrust the rudder to them. There are times when some of them do not persuade him, and some of them kill others or kick them off the ship, and once they have overcome the noble captain through a mandrake, or drugs, or something else and run the ship, using up its contents drinking, and partying, and sailing just as such sort of men might. In addition to this, they praise as a fit sailor, and call a captain and knowledgeable at shipcraft the man who is cunning at convincing or forcing the captain that they should be in charge. And they rebuke as useless anyone who is not like this.
Such men are unaware what a true helmsman is like, that he must be concerned about the time of year, the seasons, the sky, the stars, the wind and everything that is appropriate to the art, if he is going to be a leader of a ship in reality, how he might steer the ship even if some desire it or not, when they believe that it is not possible to obtain art or practice about how to do this, something like an art of ship-steering. When these types of conflicts are occurring on a ship, don’t you think the one who is a true helmsman would be called a star-gazer, a blabber, or useless to them by the sailors in the ships organized in this way?
“Always keep in mind that all sorts of people from all kinds of occupations and from every country on earth have died. And take this thought to Philistion and Phoibos and Origanion. Turn to the rest of the peoples on earth too.
We have to cross over to the same place where all those clever speakers and so many serious philosophers have gone—Heraclitus, Pythagoras, Socrates—and where those great heroes of old, the brave generals and tyrants have gone too. Among them are Eudoxos, Hipparchus, Archimedes, and other sharp natures, big minds, tireless men, bold men, and those who mock the temporary and disposable nature of life itself, like Menippus and the rest.
Think about all these people, that they have been dead for a long time. Why is this terrible for them? Why worry about those who are no longer named? This one thing is worth much: to keep on living with truth and justice and in good will even among liars and unjust men.”
N.B This is a different Pythagoras from the one with the theorem.
Suda, s.v. Pythagoras of Ephesos
“Pythagoras of Ephesos. Once he overthrew the government called the reign of the Basilidai, Pythagoras became the harshest tyrant. He seemed and sometimes was very kind to the people and the masses, increasing their hopes, but under-delivering on their profits. Because he despoiled those in high esteem and power and liquidated their property, he was not at all tolerable.
He did not hesitate to impose the harshest punishments or to mercilessly kill those who had done no wrong—for he had gotten just this crazy. His lust for money was endless. He was also quickest to anger in response to any insults to those near to him. On their own, these things would have been enough reason for people to kill him in the worst way, but he also was contemptuous of the divine. Indeed, many of his previously mentioned victims he actually killed in temples.
When the daughters of one man took refuge in a temple, he did not dare to extract them forcefully, but he waited them out so long that the girls resolved their hunger with a rope. A plague then afflicted the people along with a famine and Pythagoras, who was worried for himself, sent representatives to Delphi, requesting relief from these sufferings. She said that he needed to build temples and take care of the dead. He lived before Cyrus of Persia, according to Batôn.”
This post is a continuation of my substack on the Iliad. All proceeds from the substack are donated to classics adjacent non-profits on a monthly basis. Last year this substack provided over $2k in charitable donations.
Book 8 of the Iliad can seem a bit oddly placed in the epic’s first half—it doesn’t hearken back to earlier moments in the war as books 1, 2, 3, and 7 do; instead, it provides an intense battle scene that helps to set the scene for the Achaean panic that motivates the embassy to Achilles in book 9. Structurally, it is similar to book 4 which starts with a speech by Zeus forbidding the gods from engaging in the war; but it also echoes book 1, in that it ends with another speech where Zeus anticipates the plot of the epic (laying out the general actions of books 9-16, in particular the death of Achilles.
The book’s action hangs on Zeus’ intervention—his tipping of the scales in favor of the Trojans, his thunder to frighten the Greeks, and an omen near the middle to provide different messages to each side. But a central theme of the book must be the characterization of Hektor. Books 6, 7 and 8 feature Hektor prominently: he is a son, brother, and father/husband returning to Troy in book 6; a warrior standing up for one-on-one combat in book 7; and a military leader in book 8.
Structure of Iliad 8
1-80 Divine Council: Zeus tells the gods to stay out of the battle and retreats to watch, tips the scales for the Trojans
50-245 Nestor gets trapped and Diomedes rescues him from Hektor; Hera rouses Agamemnon to stop Hektor from burning the ships
245-490 Zeus feels bad and allows the Greeks to push back; Hektor wounds Teucer; Hera and Athena talk about opposing Zeus’ will; Zeus tells Iris to tell them to stop and then lays out the plot of the Iliad through Patroklos’ death
490-565 Hektor assembles the Trojans and has them camp outside the city
Hektor’s decision to stay outside of the city and keep the pressure on the Greeks is all part of “Zeus’ plan”, in a way. But as with every major Iliadic action the motivation is not left to Zeus alone. Instead, we see Hektor making key decisions and rallying his troops in vain hope of victory and glory. The image we find of Hektor is polysemous, shifting on the audience. To the internal audiences (some of the gods and the Greeks), he has finally become the ‘man-slaying’ Hektor we are told they fear, despite his near loss to Ajax in book 7. For Zeus, he is an instrument of his plan to have the Greeks suffer for dishonoring Achilles. As an external audience, we know Hektor is doomed to fail and we know that the fears of the Greeks and the other gods about the Achaeans’ losing are (somewhat) unfounded (‘somewhat’ because myriads still die!). And yet, we are also treated to a more complicated hero than we might think.
Little horse on wheels, an ancient greek child’s toy (from tomb dating 950-900 BC. Kerameikos Archaeological Museum in Athens).
When I try to imagine how ancient audiences responded to the characterization of heroes in the epic we have, I consider two kinds of performance axes: on one, we have the episodic performances of epic, focusing on popular scenes; on the other, we have a major performance of a song like our own, that pieces together a different type of character in a sustained treatment that strings together ‘traditional’ and ‘non-traditional’ scenes (if the latter is possible). The significance here is that meaning in storytelling is developed through contrast and context, just as in language. The tension—or collaboration—between axes I just mentioned could also be reframed as the alternation between diachronic and synchronic aspects of language. In any given utterance, our meaning (intended or otherwise) relies on prior use and prior experience of a lexical item or morpheme, but the immediate meanings build on the combinations. The diachronic axis informs the synchronic, but the performance in the moment is realized differentially based on the experience (and competence) of performer and audience.
When it comes to a traditional figure like Hektor, I think we need to credit the tension between conventional/formulaic elements (‘man-slaying’ Hektor) and the unfolding narrative of this particular poem. Hektor up to this point in book 8 has not been the most fearsome warrior in the epic (if anything, that title belongs to Diomedes and then Ajax). He has been a chiding brother, a retreating son, and a father struggling to balance the necessity of war and the inevitability of death against his role a leader of a besieged city’s armies.
Some of the tension in these roles emerges in two rallying speeches in the first third of book 8. First, Hektor addresses the combined forces of Troy and their allies:
Iliad 8.172-183
“Hektor was calling out to the Trojans, roaring: Trojans and Lykians and Spear-fighting Dardanians Be men, friends, and remembering your rushing valor. I know that Zeus assented to me willingly To have victory and great glory, to be a pain for the Danaans. The fools who thought up these walls here, Useless and worth nothing. They will not withstand my fury. My horses will easily leap over this hand-dug trench, But when I make it to the hollow ships, Don’t forget the destructive fire at that time So that I can set the ships alight and kill them, The Argives, thunderstruck beneath the smoke by their ships.”
Almost immediately after this speech, he talks to his horses.
8. 184-197
“So he spoke and then he was calling out and addressing his horses: Xanthus and Podargos, Aithôn, and glorious Lampos Now is the time to pay me back for your food, the great heaps Of it Andromache, the daughter of great-hearted Eetion Set out for you foremost, the thought-sweetening grain And the wine she mixed in for you to drink, whenever the heart compelled, Before even me, I who claim to be her powerful husband. Rush forward now and hurry so that we can grab Nestor’s shield, the fame of which rises to heaven, Because it is all gold and has straps made the same way And the fine-worked breastplate of horse-taming Diomedes The one Hephaestus wore himself out when he made it. If we can take those two things, I think that the Achaeans Will climb into their swift ships this very evening.”
Where, we might expect Hektor to enter battle immediately or exhort a particular hero, instead, Troy’s champion turns to his horses Hektor and orders to pay him back for their care by helping him seize Nestor’s shield, an object endowed with kleos by its quality and owner, and Diomedes’ breastplate. This speech is marked as exhortative by these commands and the accompanying appeal to a reciprocal relationship. It is safe to say that Hektor anthropomorphizes the horses—Andromache mixes wine to make the wheat-meal sweet. Typically, when a superior invokes prior meals as motivation for action the vertical relationship is direct—here, however, Hektor reveals that Andromache feeds the horses.
The invocation of reciprocity, however, is one-degree removed—run fast, he says, pay me back for the care Andromache gave you. In this passage we find themes typically associated with Hektor throughout the epic—he invokes kleos, reveals an optimistic, if not tragically mistaken, attitude towards the war, and defines himself in terms of his family. In this passage, Andromache functions as a metonym for the Trojan city. It matters not if she actually feeds Hektor’s chariot team—Andromache represents the nurturing and nourishing figure who cannot fight, the women and children of Troy, in short, the city itself.
As Hektor initiates his offensive strategy, the characterization of his hopes and delusion is stable—kleos is there for the taking; the Achaeans can be repelled; the city can be saved. The final lines depict Hektor’s battle-rush—winning the armor is metonymic language for killing Diomedes and Nestor, which surely would be a blow to Achaian morale, but this assertion is contained within a future-less vivid conditional statement (lines 196-7). Hektor’s speeches in the Iliad contain many impossible conditionals, reflecting the gap between the world Hektor desires and the one he finds. Note as well, the contrast between his boast about burning the ships to his assembled allies and his more modest wish to his horses for the Achaeans to sail home.
Ancient Greek pyxis with a horse in place of the handle. From a cremation burial (800-775 BC). Inv. T69/V. Kerameikos Archaeological Museum of Athens.
The position of this speech may add to its irony. In this sequence of speeches, Hektor insults the Achaeans, rallies his army and turns to exhort his own horses. Zeus’ intervention is accompanied by one of Hektor’s most awkward experiments in leadership. He uses the language of martial exhortation on creatures that not only cannot speak to him in return but whom the narrative does not allow to react. For comparison, consider Hektor’s speech to his allies in book 17
Iliad 17.219-233
Rallying, he addressed them with winged words: “Hear me, you thousand tribes of neighboring allies. For I did not gather each of you here from your cities searching for a multitude or needing one, but so that you might willingly protect the wives and innocent children of the Trojans for me from the war-mongering Achaeans. Considering these things, I have exhausted the host with gifts and food, and I increase the spirit of each of you. So, let everyone turn straightaway and either be killed or be saved—for this is the seduction of war. Whoever then now conveys Patroklos, even dead to the horse taming Trojans and to whomever Ajax yields I will split half the booty with him, and I will have the other half and his kleos will be half of mine.”
There is overlap across his exhortative speeches, but the contrast is telling as well: Hektor speaks to his horses as if to a close companion, a brother or a comrade in arms. His rallying speeches contain some of the same themes, but lack some of the intimacy of his address to his horses. There is a pathos because the expected exhortation here would be to one of his men, as Agamemnon speaks to Odysseus or Diomedes in book 4. Hektor’s speech to his horses may be said to emphasize his isolation.
There are three moments in the Iliad when heroes talk to horses. In their, Homer: The Resonance of Epic, Barbara Graziosi and Johannes Haubold describe Homeric heroes, especially Achilles, as occupying a midpoint between men and the gods. In a section entitled “God, Animals, and Fate,” they nicely describe the function of many animals in communicating divine will to mortal man through omens I would argue that horses potentially represent a midpoint between animals and men. In this scheme, Achilles’ conversation with Xanthus later in the epic (book 19) represents a mantic moment; Antilochus threatens his horses with starvation and abuse if they don’t win him the chariot race in book 23 (23.402-17). Achilles’ conversation with horses brings his his closeness to the gods into relief with his mortality; Antilochus’ youthful brashness towards his horses anticipates the conflicts that ensue at the end of the chariot race.
Hektor’s equine moment show the contrast between his public bluster and his more personal hope: he claims to all that they may win the war that day, but he asks his horses only to win some prize of renown. The stepped down ambitions of this close encounter echo his conversation with Andromache, the very present absence for Hektor’s speeches through the rest of the poem. But here, as when Hektor speaks to his own heart in book 22, he addresses an interlocutor who can or will not respond. Each of these scenes says far more about Just as Homeric figures may look above to see what they are not, we may imagine them looking down and discovering certain aspects of what they are.
Greek History exhibit, Benaki Museum, Athens, Greece. Complete indexed photo collection at WorldHistoryPics.com.
