Prophet of Evils

Reading Iphigenia Into and Out of the Iliad

At the beginning of the Iliad, Agamemnon refusers to honor the ransom request of Chryses for his daughter Chryseis and this prompts the “rage of Apollo” and the plague that initiates the epic’s conflict. When Achilles calls an assembly after nine days of suffering, the poem introduces the seer Calchas:

Homer, Iliad 1.69-72

"Kalkhas the son of Thestor, the best of the bird-men readers
who knew what is, what will be, and what was before,
and lead the ships of the Achaeans to Troy
through the power of prophecy Phoibos Apollo granted him.

Κάλχας Θεστορίδης οἰωνοπόλων ὄχ' ἄριστος, 
ὃς ᾔδη τά τ' ἐόντα τά τ' ἐσσόμενα πρό τ' ἐόντα,  
καὶ νήεσσ' ἡγήσατ' ᾿Αχαιῶν ῎Ιλιον εἴσω 
ἣν διὰ μαντοσύνην, τήν οἱ πόρε Φοῖβος ᾿Απόλλων· 

The scholia to this passage suggest that Calchas led them to Troy and prophesied that it would take 10 years (a story told by Odysseus in Iliad 2). After Calchas speaks, however, Agamemnon’s aggressive response has prompted many questions:

Iliad 1.106-9

"Prophet of evils, you've never said anything good for me!
It's always dear to your thoughts to prophesy wicked things--
you never utter or complete any kind of noble word!"

μάντι κακῶν οὐ πώ ποτέ μοι τὸ κρήγυον εἶπας· 
αἰεί τοι τὰ κάκ' ἐστὶ φίλα φρεσὶ μαντεύεσθαι, 
ἐσθλὸν δ' οὔτέ τί πω εἶπας ἔπος οὔτ' ἐτέλεσσας·  

Schol. T. ad Hom. Il. 1.106b

“The poet does not know the name Iphigenia. Since it is not known, then this is not an issue of a falsification, but [Agamemnon] is speaking his slander because of the delay of the victory.”

τὸ γὰρ ᾿Ιφιγενείας ὄνομα οὐδὲ οἶδεν ὁ ποιητής. ἐπεὶ οὖν οὐ κατέγνωσται, οὐ ψευδῆ αὐτόν, ἀλλὰ κακόφημόν φησι διὰ τὴν ἀναβολὴν τῆς νίκης·

The D Scholia (to lines 108=109b) insist that the “younger poets” (neoteroi i.e., later accounts) tell the story of Calchas’ prophecy at Aulis. Whether or not ‘Homer’ ‘knew’ the tale is immaterial, I think, because later audiences certainly knew it and could have attributed the tension in book 1 to that event. The Homeric Iliad is perfectly capable of suppressing details that serve its own ends; and ancient scholars are equally capable of taking Homeric poetry at its face value. The question for me is how does it change our reading of the Iliad to imagine that we could be thinking about Iphigenia.

At one level, this might be too much: there’s already a sufficient thematic pattern in a leader (here, a king) at odds with an expert with unwanted knowledge (here, a prophet). Consider, for example, the similar beginning to Sophocles’ Oedipus Tyrannos. However, it seems to me highly unlikely that audiences of the fifth century did not think of Iphigenia at the beginning of the poem. Homer “not knowing” the name Iphigenia could mean simply that; or, it could be one of many examples of Homeric poetry downplaying details that are not convenient to its plot. A clear allusion to a sacrificed daughter might change the way we think of Agamemnon when he refuses to return a daughter at the beginning of the poem.

The sacrifice of Iphigenia is a pivotal moment in the tale of the House of Atreus—it motivates Agamemnon’s murder and in turn the matricide of Orestes—and the Trojan War, functioning as it does as a strange sacrifice of a virgin daughter of Klytemnestra in exchange for passage for a fleet to regain the adulteress Helen, Iphigeneia’s aunt by both her father and mother. The account is famous in Aeschylus’ Agamemnon and the plays Iphigenia at Aulis and Iphigenia among the Taurians by Euripides. Its earliest accounts, however, provide some interesting variations:

Hes. Fr. 23.13-30

“Agamemnon, lord of men, because of her beauty,

Married the dark-eyed daughter of Tyndareus, Klytemnestra.
She gave birth to fair-ankled Iphimede in her home
And Elektra who rivaled the goddesses in beauty.
But the well-greaved Achaeans butchered Iphimede
on the altar of thundering, golden-arrowed Artemis
on that day when they sailed with ships to Ilium
in order to exact payment for fair-ankled Argive woman—
they butchered a ghost. But the deer-shooting arrow-mistress
easily rescued her and anointed her head
with lovely ambrosia so that her flesh would be enduring—
She made her immortal and ageless for all days.
Now the races of men upon the earth call her
Artemis of the roads, the servant of the famous arrow-mistress.
Last in her home, dark-eyed Klytemnestra gave birth
after being impregnated by Agamemnon to Orestes,
who, once he reached maturity, paid back the murderer of his father
and killed his mother as well with pitiless bronze.”

γ̣ῆμ̣[ε δ’ ἑὸν διὰ κάλλος ἄναξ ἀνδρ]ῶν ᾿Αγαμέμνων
κού[ρην Τυνδαρέοιο Κλυταιμήσ]τρην κυανῶπ[ιν•
ἣ̣ τ̣[έκεν ᾿Ιφιμέδην καλλίσφυ]ρον ἐν μεγάρο[ισιν
᾿Ηλέκτρην θ’ ἣ εἶδος ἐρήριστ’ ἀ[θανά]τηισιν.
᾿Ιφιμέδην μὲν σφάξαν ἐυκνή[μ]ιδες ᾿Αχαιοὶ
βωμῶ[ι ἔπ’ ᾿Αρτέμιδος χρυσηλακ]ά̣τ[ου] κελαδεινῆς,
ἤματ[ι τῶι ὅτε νηυσὶν ἀνέπλ]εον̣ ῎Ιλιον ε̣[ἴσω
ποινὴ[ν τεισόμενοι καλλισ]φύρου ᾿Αργειώ̣[νη]ς̣,
εἴδω[λον• αὐτὴν δ’ ἐλαφηβό]λο̣ς ἰοχέαιρα
ῥεῖα μάλ’ ἐξεσά[ωσε, καὶ ἀμβροσ]ίην [ἐρ]ατ̣ε̣[ινὴν
στάξε κατὰ κρῆ[θεν, ἵνα οἱ χ]ρ̣ὼς̣ [ἔ]μ̣πε[δ]ο̣[ς] ε̣[ἴη,
θῆκεν δ’ ἀθάνατο[ν καὶ ἀγήρ]αον ἤμα[τα πάντα.
τὴν δὴ νῦν καλέο[υσιν ἐπὶ χ]θ̣ονὶ φῦλ’ ἀν̣[θρώπων
῎Αρτεμιν εἰνοδί[ην, πρόπολον κλυ]τοῦ ἰ[ο]χ[ε]αίρ[ης.
λοῖσθον δ’ ἐν μεγά[ροισι Κλυτ]αιμ̣ή̣στρη κυα[νῶπις
γείναθ’ ὑποδμηθ[εῖσ’ ᾿Αγαμέμν]ον[ι δῖ]ον ᾿Ορέ[στην,
ὅς ῥα καὶ ἡβήσας ἀπε̣[τείσατο π]ατροφο[ν]ῆα,
κτεῖνε δὲ μητέρα [ἣν ὑπερήν]ορα νηλέι [χαλκῶι.

This fragment presents what is possibly the earliest account of the tale of Iphigenia and contains the major elements: the sacrifice of Agamemnon’s daughter is tied to vengeance against Helen; the daughter is rescued by Artemis, made immortal and made her servant. [In some traditions she is either made immortal or made into a priestess of Artemis at Tauris]. Orestes kills the murderer of his father and his mother.

Note that several details are not spelled out, but assumed: namely, Agamemnon’s agency in the death of his daughter (either in angering the goddess or in arranging her sacrifice) and the murder of Agamemnon. Note as well, the name is different: here we have Iphimedê instead of Iphigeneia. Of course, the situation gets stranger: according to Pausanias (1.43.1) Artemis turned Iphigeneia into Hekate. According to Proclus (in his Chrestomathia, “useful knowledge”; 135-143), the story was told in the Kypria as follows:

“When the fleet gathered a second time at Aulis, Agamemnon struck a deer while hunting and claimed he had surpassed Artemis. The goddess, enraged, kept them from sailing by sending storms. When Kalkhas explained the origin of the goddess’s anger and called for Iphigeneia to be sacrificed to Artemis, they attempted to complete the sacrifice by sending for her with the pretext of a marriage to Achilles. But Artemis snatched her away and settled her among the Taurians and made her immortal; she put a deer in place of the girl on the altar.”

καὶ τὸ δεύτερον ἠθροισμένου τοῦ στόλου ἐν Αὐλίδι ᾿Αγαμέμνων ἐπὶ θηρῶν βαλὼν ἔλαφον ὑπερβάλλειν ἔφησε καὶ τὴν ῎Αρτεμιν. μηνίσασα δὲ ἡ θεὸς ἐπέσχεν αὐτοὺς τοῦ πλοῦ χειμῶνας ἐπιπέμπουσα. Κάλχαντος δὲ εἰπόντος τὴν τῆς θεοῦ μῆνιν καὶ ᾿Ιφιγένειαν κελεύσαντος θύειν τῇ ᾿Αρτέμιδι, ὡς ἐπὶ γάμον αὐτὴν ᾿Αχιλλεῖ μεταπεμψάμενοι θύειν ἐπιχειροῦσιν. ῎Αρτεμις δὲ αὐτὴν ἐξαρπάσασα εἰς Ταύρους μετακομίζει καὶ ἀθάνατον ποιεῖ, ἔλαφον δὲ ἀντὶ τῆς κόρης παρίστησι τῷ βωμῷ.

In the fifth century, the story becomes a little more consistent: Aeschylus’ account is probably the best known (Agamemnon, 229-249) but Pindar discusses it too (Pyth. 11.22-28)

“Was it the fact that Iphigeneia

was butchered far from her homeland at Euripos
that incited [Klytemnestra’s] heavy-handed rage?
Or did nocturnal sex, breaking her to another’s bed,
lead her astray? That is most hateful
and intractable in young wives—but it is impossible to hide
because of other people’s tongues:
Townsfolk are gossip-mongers.”

… πότερόν νιν ἄρ’ ᾿Ιφιγένει’ ἐπ’ Εὐρίπῳ
σφαχθεῖσα τῆλε πάτρας
ἔκνισεν βαρυπάλαμον ὄρσαι χόλον;
ἢ ἑτέρῳ λέχεϊ δαμαζομέναν
ἔννυχοι πάραγον κοῖται; τὸ δὲ νέαις ἀλόχοις
ἔχθιστον ἀμπλάκιον καλύψαι τ’ ἀμάχανον
ἀλλοτρίαισι γλώσσαις•
κακολόγοι δὲ πολῖται.

Sophokles, who also wrote an Iphigeneia (lost), has Elektra defend her father’s decision by portraying him as accidentally killing the deer and having no choice in the killing of his daughter (Elektra, 563-576).

The situation with the naming of the daughters of Agamemnon is a bit knotty. In the Iliad he declares: “I have three daughters in my well-made home / Khrysothemis, Laodikê, and Iphianassa” (τρεῖς δέ μοί εἰσι θύγατρες ἐνὶ μεγάρῳ εὐπήκτῳ / Χρυσόθεμις καὶ Λαοδίκη καὶ ᾿Ιφιάνασσα, 9.144-145) whereas the Hesiodic fragment cited above lists only two (Elektra and Iphimedê). Some scholars have assumed that Homer suppresses the sacrifice of Iphigeneia (although the events of the epic’s first book seem to rely on that tension). According to Aelian the name Elektra was a pejorative nickname for Laodikê (Varia Historia, 4.26):

“Xanthus the lyric poet—the one who was older than Stesikhoros—says that the daughter of Agamemnon Elektra did not have that name at first, but instead was Laodikê. After Agamemnon was killed and Aigisthos married Klytemnestra and was king, because she was “unbedded” (a-lektron) and was growing old as a virgin, the Argives called her Elektra because she didn’t have a husband and had no experience of a marriage bed.”

Ξάνθος ὁ ποιητὴς τῶν μελῶν (ἐγένετο δὲ οὗτος πρεσβύτερος Στησιχόρου τοῦ ῾Ιμεραίου) λέγει τὴν ᾿Ηλέκτραν τοῦ ᾿Αγαμέμνονος οὐ τοῦτο ἔχειν τοὔνομα πρῶτον ἀλλὰ Λαοδίκην. ἐπεὶ δὲ ᾿Αγαμέμνων ἀνῃρέθη, τὴν δὲ Κλυταιμνήστραν ὁ Αἴγισθος ἔγημε καὶ ἐβασίλευσεν, ἄλεκτρον οὖσαν καὶ καταγηρῶσαν παρθένον ᾿Αργεῖοι ᾿Ηλέκτραν ἐκάλεσαν διὰ τὸ ἀμοιρεῖν ἀνδρὸς καὶ μὴ πεπειρᾶσθαι λέκτρου.

Aeschylus in his Libation-Bearers gives Agamemnon only Elektra. Sophokles and Euripides preserve Khrysothemis. Strangely, according to one scholion, the lost Kypria named both Iphigeneia and Iphianassa as Agamemnon’s daughters. West (2013, 110) concludes that in this tradition (following Homer’s Iliad, Agamemnon once had four daughters).

photograph of a wall painting showing the sacrifice of ipihgenia including a nube girl in the arms of three male figures, a woman with her head covered, and a partial image of Artemis with a deer in the sky
Fourth Style fresco depicting the Sacrifice of Iphigenia, from the House of the Tragic Poet in Pompeii, Naples National Archaeological Museum

Sources:
Timothy Gantz. Early Greek Myth: A Guide to Literary and Artistic Sources. Baltimore, 1993.
Bryan Hainsworth. The Iliad: A Commentary. III: books 9-12. Cambridge, 1993.
R. Merkelbach and M. L. West. Hesiodea Fragmenta. Oxford, 1967.
Glenn Most. Hesiod: The Shield, Catalogue of Women, Other Fragments. Cambridge, 2003.
M. L. West. The Epic Cycle. Oxford, 2013.

A Persephone Better than Persephone: A Remarkable Epitaph

CIRB 130 from the N. Black Sea ca. 50 BC-50 AD — GVI 1989

“Theophilê Hekataiou gives her greeting.

They were wooing me, Theiophilê the short-lived daughter of
Hekataios, those young men [seeking] a maiden for marriage.
But Hades seized me first, since he was longing for me
When he saw a Persephone better than Persephone.

[….]

And when the message is carved on the stone
He weeps for the girl, Theiophilê the Sinopian,
Whose father, Hekataios, gave the torch-holding bride-to-be
To Hades and not a marriage.

[…]

Maiden Theiophilê, no marriage awaits you, but a land
With no return; not as the bride of Menophilos,
But as a partner in Persephone’s bed. Your father Hekataios
Now has only the name of the pitiable lost girl.

And as he looks on your shape in stone he sees
The unfulfilled hopes Fate wrongly buried in the ground.

Theiophilê, a girl allotted beauty envied by mortals,
A tenth Muse, a Grace for marriage’s age,
A perfect example of prudence.
Hades did not throw his dark hands around you.

No, Pluto lit the flames for the wedding torches
With his lamp, welcoming a most desired mate.

Parents, stop your laments now, stop your grieving,
Theiophilê has found an immortal bed.”

1           Θεοφίλη Ἑκαταίου, / χαῖρε.
Θειοφίλην με θύγατρα μινυνθαδίην Ἑκαταίου
ἐμνώοντο, γάμωι παρθένον ἠΐθεοι,
5 ἔφθασε δ’ ἁρπάξας Ἀΐδης, ἠράσσατο γάρ μευ,
Φερσεφόνας ἐσιδὼν κρέσσονα Φερσεφόναν.
6a ———

7 καὶ γράμμα πέτρης ἐκγλυφὲν στηλίτιδος
κόρην δακρύει Θεοφίλην Σινωπίδα
τὰς μελλονύμφους ἧς πατὴρ δαιδουχίας
10   Ἑκαταῖος Ἅιδηι καὶ οὐ γάμωι συνάρμοσεν.
10a ———

11 παρθένε Θειοφίλα, σὲ μὲν οὐ γάμος, ἀλλ’ ἀδίαυλος
χῶρος ἔχει νύμφη δ’ οὐκέτι Μηνοφίλου,
[ἀ]λλὰ Κόρης σύλλεκτρος· ὁ δὲ σπείρας Ἑκαταῖος
οὔνομα δυστήνου μοῦνον ἔχει φθιμένης,
15 [μ]ορφὰν δ’ ἐν πέτραι λεύ<σ>σει σέο τὰς δ’ ἀτελέστους
ἐλπίδας οὐχ ὁσίη Μοῖρα κατεχθόνισεν.

τὴν κάλλος ζηλωτὸν ἐνὶ θνατοῖσι λαχοῦσαν
Θειοφίλην, Μουσῶν τὴν δεκάτην, Χάριτα,
πρὸς γάμον ὡραίαν, τὴν σωφροσύνης ὑπόδειγμα,
20   οὐκ Ἀΐδας ζοφεραῖς ἀμφέβαλεν παλάμαις,

Πλούτων δ’ εἰς θαλάμους τὰ γαμήλια λαμπάδι φέγγη
ἇψε, ποθεινοτάτην δεξάμενος γαμέτιν.
[ὦ γ]ονέες, θρήνων νῦν λήξατε, παύετ’ ὀδυρμῶν·
Θειοφίλη λέκτρων ἀθανάτων ἔτυχεν.

Mentioning Persephone and Hades in a funerary epitaph for a young woman is a common trope:

IC II x 20 Crete, early Rom. Imp. period

“Mattia, the daughter of Loukios, says hello:

Hades stole away this pretty girl because of her beauty and form
Suddenly, this girl most desirable to all people alive.
Mattios fathered me and my mother Eutukhia
Nursed me. I have died at twelve years old, unmarried.

My name is Mattia, and now that I have left the light
I lie hidden in the dark chamber of Persephone.
I left a lifetime’s grief for my father and mother
Who will have many tears for the rest of time.”

[Μ]αττία Λουκίου θυγάτηρ
χαῖρε.
κάλλει καὶ μορφᾶι τὰν ε[ὐῶ]πα̣ ἥρπ̣α̣σ̣εν Ἅϊδας
αἰφνιδίως ζωοῖς πᾶσι ποθεινοτάταν,
Μάττιος ἃν ἐφύτευσε πατήρ, μάτηρ δ̣’ ἀτίτ[η]λ̣εν
Εὐτυχία· θνάσκω δωδεχέτης ἄ[γ]αμος,

Ματτία οὔνομα ἐοῦσα, λιποῦσα δὲ φ[ῶς] ὑπὸ [κ]ε̣[ύ]θη
[κεῖ]μαι Φερσεφόνας ἐν νυχίωι θαλάμωι,
πατρί τε καὶ τᾶι ματρὶ λιποῦσ’ [αἰώ]νιον ἄλγος
[τᾶ]ι πολυδακρύτωι εἰς τὸν ἅπαντα χρόνον.

 a photograph of a relief sculpture. A marble block with two divine figures on either side of an altar,
A relief of Persephone and Hades from the Hierapolis Archaeological Museum

Corinthian Women and the Plot Against Medea

Two passages from the Scholia to Euripides’ Medea explain why Euripides told the story he did and what the ‘real’ facts were behind it.

Schol. B ad. Eur. Med. 9.1-11

“There’s a story from the philosophers that is much repeated—one Parmeniskos also offers—that Euripides changed the murder of the children to Medea because he accepted five talents from the Korinthians. [He claims] that the children of Medea were killed by the Korinthians because they were angry over her ruling the city and they wanted there to be an end of her ruling in Korinth, because it was her paternal [right]. For this reason he changed the [responsibility] to Medea. Hippus presents [accounts] about her residency in Korinth, as does Hellanikos. Eumelos and Simonides report that Medeia ruled Korinth. In his work called On Isthmian Affairs, Mousaios reports that Medeia was immortal, and he explains this also in his work on The Festivals of Hera Akraia.”

πολυάϊκός τις λόγος φέρεται τῶν φιλοσόφων, ὃν καὶ Παρμενίσκος ἐκτίθησιν, ὡς ἄρα πέντε τάλαντα λαβὼν παρὰ Κορινθίων Εὐριπίδης μεταγάγοι τὴν σφαγὴν τῶν παίδων ἐπὶ τὴν Μήδειαν. ἀποσφαγῆναι γὰρ τοὺς παῖδας Μηδείας ὑπὸ Κορινθίων παροξυνθέντων ἐπὶ τῷ βασιλεύειν αὐτὴν θέλειν διὰ τὸ τὴν Κόρινθον πατρῴαν αὐτῆς λῆξιν εἶναι· ὃ μετήγαγεν ἐπὶ Μήδειαν. περὶ δὲ τῆς εἰς Κόρινθον μετοικήσεως ῞Ιππυς [frg. 3] ἐκτίθεται καὶ ῾Ελλάνικος [frg. 34]. ὅτι δὲ βεβασίλευκε τῆς Κορίνθου ἡ Μήδεια, Εὔμηλος [frg. 3] ἱστορεῖ καὶ Σιμωνίδης [frg. 48]· ὅτι δὲ καὶ ἀθάνατος ἦν ἡ Μήδεια, Μουσαῖος ἐν τῷ περὶ ᾿Ισθμίων [FHG IV p. 518a] ἱστορεῖ, ἅμα καὶ περὶ τῶν τῆς ᾿Ακραίας ῞Ηρας ἑορτῶν ἐκτιθείς: —B

Schol. B ad Eur. Med. 264.1-11

“Parmeniskos writes the following for this line: “Because the Korinthian women did not want to be ruled by a barbaric, potion-pouring woman, they conspired against her and [planned] to kill her children, seven boys and seven girls. [Euripides says that she only had two]. They fled, pursued, into the temple of Hera Akraia and they stayed there. But even then the Korinthians did not hold back: they slaughtered all of them at the altar. Then a plague fell over the city, and many bodies were perishing because of a sickness. They received an oracle that the god must be propitiated for the hunt of Medeia’s children.  This is why each year during the appointed time seven girls and boys from the noblest families return to the precinct of the goddess and appease their rage—and the anger of the goddess on their behalf—with sacrifices.”

Παρμενίσκος γράφει κατὰ λέξιν οὕτως· ‘ταῖς δὲ Κορινθίαις οὐ βουλομέναις ὑπὸ βαρβάρου καὶ φαρμακίδος γυναικὸς ἄρχεσθαι αὐτῇ τε ἐπιβουλεῦσαι καὶ τὰ τέκνα αὐτῆς ἀνελεῖν, ἑπτὰ μὲν ἄρσενα, ἑπτὰ δὲ θήλεα. [Εὐριπίδης δὲ δυσὶ μόνοις φησὶν αὐτὴν κεχρῆσθαι.] ταῦτα δὲ διωκόμενα καταφυγεῖν εἰς τὸ τῆς ᾿Ακραίας ῞Ηρας ἱερὸν καὶ ἐπὶ τὸ ἱερὸν καθίσαι. Κορινθίους δὲ αὐτῶν οὐδὲ οὕτως ἀπέχεσθαι, ἀλλ’ ἐπὶ τοῦ βωμοῦ πάντα ταῦτα ἀποσφάξαι. λοιμοῦ δὲ γενομένου εἰς τὴν πόλιν πολλὰ σώματα ὑπὸ τῆς νόσου διαφθείρεσθαι. μαντευομένοις δὲ αὐτοῖς χρησμῳδῆσαι τὸν θεὸν ἱλάσκεσθαι τὸ τῶν Μηδείας τέκνων ἄγος. ὅθεν Κορινθίοις μέχρι τῶν καιρῶν τῶν καθ’ ἡμᾶς καθ’ ἕκαστον ἐνιαυτὸν ἑπτὰ κούρους καὶ ἑπτὰ κούρας τῶν ἐπισημοτάτων ἀνδρῶν ἐναπενιαυτίζειν ἐν τῷ τῆς θεᾶς τεμένει καὶ μετὰ θυσιῶν ἱλάσκεσθαι τὴν ἐκείνων μῆνιν  καὶ τὴν δι’ ἐκείνους γενομένην τῆς θεᾶς ὀργήν’.

A photgraph of a wall painting of Medea as a Roman woman looking at two partly clothed children playing. An older man looks in on them from a doorway
Medea, Museo archeologico nazionale di Napoli, (inv. nr. 8977). Da Pompei, Casa dei Dioscuri. Medea medita di uccidere i suoi figli intenti a giocare con gli astragali, guardati con mestizia dal pedagogo.

Achilles Missed out on Helen Because He Was At School (Hes. Cat. fr. 204.86-93)

The Hesiodic Catalogue of Women tells the story of of Helen’s suitors, explaining that Menelaos won Helen’s hand because of the magnitude of his wealth. The fragment, however, does not stop there. No! It has to explain why Achilles didn’t win Helen’s hand:

Fr. 204.86-93

“Atreus’ war-loving son Menelaos conquered everyone
Because he gave the most gifts. Kheiron took Peleus’ son
of swift feet to wooded Pelion, that most exceptional of men,
when he was still a child. War-loving Menelaos wouldn’t have defeated him
nor would any other Mortal man on the earth who was wooing
Helen if swift Achilles had come upon her when she was still a maiden
As he returned home from Pelion.
But, as it turned out, war-loving Menelaos got her first.”

᾿Ατρε[ίδ]ης ν̣[ίκησε]ν ἀρηΐφιλος Μενέλαος
πλεῖ̣[στ]α πορών. Χε̣ί̣ρων δ’ ἐν Πηλίωι ὑλήεντι
Πηλείδην ἐκ̣ό̣μιζε πόδας ταχύν, ἔξοχον ἀνδρῶν,
παῖδ’ ἔτ’ ἐόν[τ’·] οὐ γάρ μιν ἀρηΐφιλος Μενέλαος
νίκησ’ οὐδέ τις ἄλλος ἐπιχθονίων ἀνθρώπων
μνηστεύων ῾Ελένην, εἴ μιν κίχε παρθένον οὖσαν
οἴκαδε νοστήσας ἐκ Πηλίου ὠκὺς ᾿Αχιλλεύς.
ἀλλ’ ἄρα τὴν πρίν γ’ ἔσχεν ἀρηΐφιλος Μενέλαος·

In other traditions Achilles actually is a suitor. (Pausanias 3.24; Euripides’, Helen 98-99; see Ormand, The Hesiodic Catalogue of Women and Archaic Greece, 2014, 149-150 and 198-201). Hesiod, however, finds it necessary to explain why he is sidelined from this game…

Black figure vase. Achilles, as a boy with a dog, between his father Peleus and the centaur Cheiron
eleus (left) entrusts his son Achilles (centre) to Centaur Chiron (right). White-ground black-figured lekythos by the Edinburgh Painter, ca. 500 BC. From Eretria. National Archaeological Museum in Athens, 1150.

 

Reading and Teaching Homer

Some practical advice

My general argument in an earlier post, emphasizing that we need to understand the Homeric epics as objects that exist through time and different layers of reception only goes so far in helping current readers and teachers grapple with Homeric epic. Indeed, acknowledging that different audiences meaningfully engaged with the Homeric epics in very different modes does little to help first time readers make their way into the poems. On sententiaeantiquae.com, I posted somewhat problematic essays on how not to read Homer and on reading Homer. Those comments are somewhat more polemical and aimed at a particular cultural stance. Here, I hope to provide (1) more practical advice, followed by (2) some limited justification for that advice, before closing with (3) some recommendations for introductions to Homeric epic.

Some Practical Advice 

  1. Prepare by reading something else: Ancient audiences grew up with the names of heroes and the basic plots in their minds. Modern audiences who are less familiar with the characters, the pantheon, and their narrative traditions are at a bit of a loss. Try preparing by reading something else first, like an overview or one of Gareth Hinds’ graphic novels first. Don’t read epic as if it is a modern novel full of twists and surprises. Read it like you’re attending a new Spiderman film and you have seen earlier reboots and maybe read the comic book once as a kid.

  2. Follow a ‘rule of three’: Epic is full of place names, people, and stories that show up once or twice. Some of these references are subtle intertexts; others are about vibes or flavor. Very few are really necessary to understand the overall tale. So, even given the work done on #1, don’t sweat all the details on your first or even second reading. If a name or idea does not come up at least three times, don’t worry about it. This doesn’t mean it isn’t important, it just means that it is less important than the others.

  3. Focus on the story being told: These details aren’t insignificant, but they can distract from the major plot. Remember that the Iliad is not the Trojan War: there’s no Trojan Horse, there’s no judgment of Paris; Achilles doesn’t even die. When people come to Homer expecting the whole story, they are confused or disappointed. In fact, it may almost be better to know less than more when starting the epic for the first time. While there are nearly endless references to and echoes of characters, events, and stories that are not in the Iliad and recognizing such references may enhance one’s enjoyment of epic over time, the story in its telling can appeal to multiple audiences simultaneously. The way I explain it is this: someone with little knowledge of baseball or American football can enjoy the competition, provided they know the basic rules. A home-run or a hail-Mary are no more or less majestic and exciting if you know advanced statistics and the history of the game. Allow epic’s game to unfold, and if you return to it again, bring some new understanding each time.

  4. Court anachronism: it is certainly the case that Homeric characters are not “just like us”; but, by the same token, modern comic book characters are not like us either. The enduring power of epic resides in its ability to function as a vehicle for audiences with very different experiences and worldviews.

  5. Don’t Read Homer Alone! Accept polysemy: Once you have started to do #4, also acknowledge that this might not be enough: test your responses against other peoples’ responses (both your peers and contemporaries and people over time). Many authors will gladly remind you of how brutal, savage, and different the Homeric heroes (and their anticipated audiences) are. Don’t ignore this, but don’t be shackled by it either. Any work of art that exists through time requires you to move around it, to look at it from different angles, to ask what other people think of it, and to weigh your responses against those from different times.

  6. Code Switch: Learn enough about Homeric aesthetics to understand where they matter: The epics we have are assuredly ‘oral-derived’ and they were performed in front of audiences in their earliest periods. “Aesthetics”, or the set of cultural assumptions about style, form, and value that inform interpretation and judgment, vary from culture to culture and over time. Homeric language developed over time in concert with its rhythmic shapes. Rather than be concerned with individual words, good interpretation of Homer looks at partial lines, phrases, and their adaptation (and in this there is likely more common with music than what we think of as poetry). In general, Homeric poetry tends to have more repetition than a modern author would be comfortable with; it also tends to be additive (paratactic) because it unfolds in real time and performance, giving the (deceptive) appearance of simplicity. This does not mean that the repetition is meaningless or mechanical. One of my favorite takes on this belongs to John Miles Foley who argues that oral poetry works like any other language, just more so!

  7. Learn about Metonymy: Metonymy is often paired with metaphor; the latter is figurative language that says something is something else; the former, metonymy, uses a part of a thing to evoke the whole. The very nature of epic is metonymic: the Iliad evokes the themes and motifs of a vastly larger and expanding story-scape of nearly 20 years (and countless characters) through something like 58 days. This structural relationship should be understood as operative the parts of each epic as well. 

    Because of its existence through and over time and its adaptive, generative nature, Homeric language and narrative are filled with potential meaning. A single word or sequence of words can invoke entire story-traditions. Never assume, as I once did, that a simple simile (e.g. Hektor went forth like a snowy mountain) is just waiting to be extended or elaborated. Instead, imagine that the complex story was there first and then compressed. Epic, as made clear from the comparative studies of Milman Parry and Albert Lord, advances itself through expansion or contraction (suppression) of various themes and motifs). 

  8. When in doubt, read more Homer: In line with the ancient practice of “clarifying Homer through Homer”, many Homeric ‘problems’ can be resolved by looking at the practices within Homer, not adducing information from outside the epics. If things are really knotty, Homeric scholarship is deep and wide and chances are someone else has encountered the same problem you have.

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Some Explanations/Justifications

  1. Homer’s Early Audiences Engaged with Homer repeatedly, but rarely completely

The more I think about it and the more I have learned over time, I am convinced that a majority of audiences prior to the Hellenistic period experienced Homeric epic episodically and rarely in full, ‘monumental’ performances. After the Hellenistic period, I think that most engagements in writing would have been with popular passages mined for rhetorical examples and equally rare in full readings of the epic from beginning to end. For me, this distinction between ancient and modern practices suggests that we should modify our approach to reading Homer to include both sampling of famous passages and iteration/repetition. In addition, the origin of the Homeric epic in performance contexts recommends a form of reading that includes other people as part of the interpretive process. Homeric poetry developed within communities of performers and audiences and to this day relies on a community of readers to return them to life.

  1. Ancient Scholarly Practice was to Make Sense of Homer Through Homer

Ancient scholarly practice commends a practice of iterative re-reading epic. Since Homeric poetry was–and is–somewhat sui generis, questions of style and content can be best answered only with reference to the epics itself. Below I have marshaled a few quotations on the practice of “clarifying Homer through Homer”.  Note, this practice of interpreting a text within its own terms through its own guidance became a foundational custom of Classical and Biblical philology (see, for example Martin Luther’s scriptura sui ipsius interpres [“scripture is its own interpreter”])

D Scholia to the Iliad (5.385)

“Aristarchus believed it best to make sense of those things that were presented more fantastically by Homer according to the poet’s authority, that we not be overwhelmed by anything outside of the things presented by Homer.”

᾿Αρίσταρχος ἀξιοῖ τὰ φραζόμενα ὑπὸ τοῦ Ποιητοῦ μυθικώτερον ἐκδέχεσθαι, κατὰ τὴν
Ποιητικὴν ἐξουσίαν, μηδὲν ἔξω τῶν φραζομένων ὑπὸ τοῦ Ποιητοῦ περιεργαζομένους.

Porphyry, Homeric Questions 1.1

“Since often in our conversations with one another about Homeric questions, when I try to show you that Homer interprets himself for the most part, and we consider from every angle in most instances based on our training more than [simply] knowing what he says, you have considered it right that I write up the things we have said rather than allow them to fall aside and disappear because we’ve forgotten them.”

Πολλάκις μὲν ἐν ταῖς πρὸς ἀλλήλους συνουσίαις ῾Ομηρικῶν ζητημάτων γινομένων, ᾿Ανατόλιε, κἀμοῦ δεικνύναι πειρωμένου, ὡς αὐτὸς μὲν ἑαυτὸν τὰ πολλὰ ῞Ομηρος ἐξηγεῖται, ἡμεῖς δὲ ἐκ τῆς παιδικῆς κατηχήσεως περινοοῦμεν μᾶλλον ἐν τοῖς πλείστοις ἢ νοοῦμεν ἃ λέγει, ἠξίωσας ἀναγράψαι με τὰ λεχθέντα μηδὲ διαπεσόντα ἐᾶσαι ὑπὸ τῆς λήθης ἀφανισθῆναι.

Porphyry, Homeric Questions 1.12-14

“Because I think it best to make sense of Homer through Homer, I usually show by example how he may interpret himself, sometimes in juxtaposition, sometimes in other ways.”

᾿Αξιῶν δὲ ἐγὼ ῞Ομηρον ἐξ ῾Ομήρου σαφηνίζειν αὐτὸν ἐξηγούμενον ἑαυτὸν ὑπεδείκνυον, ποτὲ μὲν παρακειμένως, ἄλλοτε δ’ ἐν ἄλλοις.

This practice of analyzing Homer is multilayered as well; in keeping with Homeric poetry’s metonymic self-generation, its additive character and a scaffolding of shared characteristics from the level of the word all the way to the level of structure, the Iliad and the Odyssey in their entirety are assumed to be responsive to similar approaches. Indeed, Hellenistic scholars conceived of a scaffolded interpretive process

Dionysius Thrax, Ars Grammatica 1

“The art of grammar is the experience-derived knowledge of how things are said, for the most part, by poets and prose authors. It has six components. First, reading out loud and by meter; second, interpretation according to customary compositional practice; third, a helpful translation of words and their meanings; fourth, an investigation of etymology; fifth, a categorization of morphologies; and sixth—which is the most beautiful portion of the art—the critical judgment of the compositions.”

Γραμματική ἐϲτιν ἐμπειρία τῶν παρὰ ποιηταῖϲ τε καὶ ϲυγγραφεῦϲιν ὡϲ ἐπὶ τὸ πολὺ λεγομένων.   Μέρη δὲ αὐτῆϲ ἐϲτιν ἕξ· πρῶτον ἀνάγνωϲιϲ ἐντριβὴϲ κατὰ προϲῳδίαν, δεύτερον ἐξήγηϲιϲ κατὰ τοὺϲ ἐνυπάρχονταϲ ποιητικοὺϲ τρόπουϲ,  τρίτον γλωϲϲῶν τε καὶ ἱϲτοριῶν πρόχειροϲ ἀπόδοϲιϲ, τέταρτον ἐτυμολογίαϲ εὕρεϲιϲ, πέμπτον ἀναλογίαϲ ἐκλογιϲμόϲ, ἕκτον κρίϲιϲ ποιημάτων, ὃ δὴ κάλλιϲτόν ἐϲτι πάντων τῶν ἐν τῇ τέχνῃ.

  1. Regardless of the period of its reception, Homeric poetry is aesthetically different from our own, but it guides us on its use

Homeric poetry is a language that developed from multiple dialects, selecting for morphologies and syntax over time to create a dynamic and flexible language. The rhythmic shape of the dactylic hexameter line is a natural part of the Homeric dialect, but not in the sense of functioning as a rigid or restrictive form. As part of the song culture of ancient Greece, Homeric poetry was (and is) capable of conveying a full range of ideas and emotions like any other language. The one thing I would add to the “clarify Homer through Homer” sentiment above works best if we understand Homer as part of a much larger song culture that includes all poetry from  ancient Greece.

As I note above, familiarity with ancient Greek poetry in general will help modern readers understand the structure and narrative flow of Greek epic. It accommodates, if not relies upon, repetitions and builds larger patterns out of doublets, rings, rising tricola (three-part statements with emphasis on the final) and more. 

Moving from epic to lyric and back again also helps us to see that Homeric epic is structured around devices that invite comparison from ‘outside the frame’ to inside. Consider speeches, omens, and similes. Each one of these devices that together make up the majority of the Iliad, has an opening (a speech introduction, a ‘like this, so that’ or something like it) and a closing statement around content that needs to be understood within the framework provided. So, speech introductions and conclusions give us information about how to understand the nature of the speech framed, while omen scenes (see especially Odysseus description of the omen in book 2 [Iliad 2.299–330 ] the debate in book 12 [12.199–257] over the omen of the snake and the eagle at the Greek wall) demonstrate debate over interpretation and similes demarcate boundaries between the ‘real’ and the ‘imaginary’ that nevertheless invite us to collapse the two to make meaning. 

It is my contention that Homeric poetry models and trains audiences on methods of interpretation, prizing judgment from without over the importance of detail within. This becomes clearest, I think, in moments where Homeric heroes try to use stories from their past to persuade their interlocutors. They make equivalences between the narratives they present and the actions around them that anticipate or echo similar moves made by external audiences. Phoinix makes this explicit when he speaks to Achilles in book 9 (see below, c) and Achilles himself acknowledges that his quarrel with Agamemnon will be an object of memory for years to come (below, b). But most importantly of all, when the epic asks its audiences to look outside of itself in book 18 at the cities on the shield Hephaestus makes for Achilles, the prize offered is for those who judge a quarrel most correctly.

In future posts, I will return to these questions again, particularly when assembling some notes on books 9, 18, and 19.

a.  Phoinix Prefaces his tale of Meleager, 9.524–526: This is the way we have learned from famous stories of the men who were before, the heroes, whenever a furious anger overcomes someone. They are amenable to gifts and persuaded by words.”

οὕτω καὶ τῶν πρόσθεν ἐπευθόμεθα κλέα ἀνδρῶν

ἡρώων, ὅτε κέν τιν’ ἐπιζάφελος χόλος ἵκοι·

δωρητοί τε πέλοντο παράρρητοί τ’ ἐπέεσσι. 

b.  Achilles on the Conflict, 19.64–65: “This was better for the Hektor and the Trojans: I think that the Achaeans will remember our strife for a long time.”

῞Εκτορι μὲν καὶ Τρωσὶ τὸ κέρδιον· αὐτὰρ ᾿Αχαιοὺς

δηρὸν ἐμῆς καὶ σῆς ἔριδος μνήσεσθαι ὀΐω, 

  c. Il. 18. 496–508: “The people where gathered, crowded, in the assembly where a conflict (neîkos) had arisen: two men were striving over the penalty for a man who had been killed; the first one was promising to give everything as he was testifying to the people; but the other was refusing to take anything; and both men longed for a judge to make a decision. The people, partisans on either side, applauded. Then the heralds brought the host together; the elders sat on smooth stones in a sacred circle as they held in their hands the scepters of clear-voiced heralds; each one was leaping to his feet and they pronounced judgments in turn. In the middle there were two talents of gold to give to whoever among them uttered the straightest judgment.”

λαοὶ δ’ εἰν ἀγορῇ ἔσαν ἀθρόοι· ἔνθα δὲ νεῖκος 

ὠρώρει, δύο δ’ ἄνδρες ἐνείκεον εἵνεκα ποινῆς

ἀνδρὸς ἀποφθιμένου· ὃ μὲν εὔχετο πάντ’ ἀποδοῦναι

δήμῳ πιφαύσκων, ὃ δ’ ἀναίνετο μηδὲν ἑλέσθαι·

ἄμφω δ’ ἱέσθην ἐπὶ ἴστορι πεῖραρ ἑλέσθαι.

 λαοὶ δ’ ἀμφοτέροισιν ἐπήπυον ἀμφὶς ἀρωγοί·

κήρυκες δ’ ἄρα λαὸν ἐρήτυον· οἳ δὲ γέροντες

εἵατ’ ἐπὶ ξεστοῖσι λίθοις ἱερῷ ἐνὶ κύκλῳ,

σκῆπτρα δὲ κηρύκων ἐν χέρσ’ ἔχον ἠεροφώνων·

τοῖσιν ἔπειτ’ ἤϊσσον, ἀμοιβηδὶς δὲ δίκαζον.

κεῖτο δ’ ἄρ’ ἐν μέσσοισι δύω χρυσοῖο τάλαντα,

τῷ δόμεν ὃς μετὰ τοῖσι δίκην ἰθύντατα εἴποι. 

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Some reading recommendations

Elton Barker and I wrote a beginner’s guide to Homer a decade ago, so I am including that in the list. Some other books here are good too!

Bakker, E. J. 1997. Poetry in Speech: Orality and Homeric Discourse. Ithaca.

A great introduction to Homeric language from a linguistic perspective. It is a bit complicated for people who have no experience with epic, but it is a great next step.

Barker, E.T.E and Christensen, J. P. 2013. Homer: A Beginner’s Guide. One world

Elton and I wrote this during a six month period in 2011. It was torrid and crazy and I think it is still a decent text that introduces Homeric language and both epics in a slim volume

Foley, John Miles. 1999. Homer’s Traditional Art. Philadelphia.

It is hard for me to pick one book by Foley. It is a close race between his Immanent Art (1991) and How to Read an Oral Poem (2002) and this book. A great overview of how orality matters to understanding the Homeric epics.

Graziosi, B., and J. Haubold, 2005. Homer: The Resonance of Epic. London.

While not an introduction to Homer, per se, this volume is a great introduction to archaic epic, cosmic history, and the relationship between Homer and Hesiod. Barbara Graziosi also has a very good Homer: A Very Short Introduction (Oxford, 2016)

Nagy, Gregory. 1979/1999. The Best of the Achaeans: Concepts of the Hero in Archaic Greek poetry. Baltimore.

This is a book that rewards, if not requires, rereading and introduces the broader mythopoetic world of ancient Greek heroes inside and outside of Homer

Schein, S. 1984. The Mortal Hero: An Introduction to Homer’s Iliad. Berkeley.

This is one of three books that sealed my fate as a Homerist

Color photograph of a bust sized painting of Homer, a bearded man with a band around his head by Paul Buffet
Bust-length Study of the Blind Homer by Paul Buffet in the MET

Politics is Horrifying: Plato on Lykanthropy

 

From Plato’s Republic, Book 8 (565d)

“What is the beginning of the change from guardian to tyrant? Isn’t clear when the guardian begins to do that very thing which myth says happened at the shrine of Lykaion Zeus in Arcadia?

Which is? He said.

That once someone tastes a bit of human innards mixed up with the other sacrifices he becomes a wolf by necessity? Haven’t you heard this tale?

I have.

Is it not something the same with a protector of the people? Once he controls a mob that obeys him, he cannot restrain himself from tribal blood, but he prosecutes unjustly, the sorts of things men love to do, and brings a man into court for murder, eliminating the life of a man—and with tongue and unholy mouth that have tasted the murder of his kind, he exiles, kills, and promises the cutting of debts and the redistribution of land. Is it not by necessity that such a man is fated either to be killed by his enemies or to become a tyrant, to turn into a wolf from a man?”

werewolf-1

Τίς ἀρχὴ οὖν μεταβολῆς ἐκ προστάτου ἐπὶ τύραννον; ἢ δῆλον ὅτι ἐπειδὰν ταὐτὸν ἄρξηται δρᾶν ὁ προστάτης τῷ ἐν τῷ μύθῳ ὃς περὶ τὸ ἐν ᾿Αρκαδίᾳ τὸ τοῦ Διὸς τοῦ Λυκαίου ἱερὸν λέγεται;

Τίς; ἔφη.

῾Ως ἄρα ὁ γευσάμενος τοῦ ἀνθρωπίνου σπλάγχνου, ἐν ἄλλοις ἄλλων ἱερείων ἑνὸς ἐγκατατετμημένου, ἀνάγκη δὴ τούτῳ λύκῳ γενέσθαι. ἢ οὐκ ἀκήκοας τὸν λόγον;

῎Εγωγε.

῏Αρ’ οὖν οὕτω καὶ ὃς ἂν δήμου προεστώς, λαβὼν σφόδρα πειθόμενον ὄχλον, μὴ ἀπόσχηται ἐμφυλίου αἵματος, ἀλλ’ ἀδίκως ἐπαιτιώμενος, οἷα δὴ φιλοῦσιν, εἰς δικαστήρια ἄγων μιαιφονῇ, βίον ἀνδρὸς ἀφανίζων, γλώττῃ τε καὶ στόματι ἀνοσίῳ γευόμενος φόνου συγγενοῦς, καὶ ἀνδρηλατῇ καὶ ἀποκτεινύῃ καὶ ὑποσημαίνῃ χρεῶν τε ἀποκοπὰς καὶ γῆς ἀναδασμόν, ἆρα τῷ τοιούτῳ ἀνάγκη δὴ τὸ μετὰ τοῦτο καὶ εἵμαρται ἢ ἀπολωλέναι ὑπὸ τῶν ἐχθρῶν ἢ τυραννεῖν καὶ λύκῳ ἐξ ἀνθρώπου γενέσθαι;

In ancient Greek myth, Lykaon (Lycaon, related to lúkos, “wolf”) was a king of Arcadia. According to Pausanias (8.31-5) , Lykaon sacrificed a newborn child to Zeus. In other sources he offers the infant mixed up with other food to test Zeus’ divinity (although some attribute the deed to his sons, see Apollodorus, 3.8.1). Zeus killed the sons with lightning; Lykaon was transformed into a wolf. Stay tuned for more of this in coming days.

There may actually be physical evidence of human sacrifice in Arcadia now.

Tragic Tyranny

Philostratus, Lives of the Sophists:

Antiphon was killed in Sicily by Dionysius the tyrant. I am inclined to ascribe the fault for his death more to Antiphon himself than to Dionysius, because Antiphon scoffed at his tragedies, in which Dionysius took more pride than he did even in being the tyrant. When Dionysius became interested in the quality of bronze and asked some people who were present what country or island produced the best bronze, Antiphon spoke up and said, ‘I know that the best bronze is in Athens, where one can find the statues of Harmodius and Aristogeiton.’ He was killed for this because he was treading upon Dionysius’ authority and turning the Sicilians against him.

ἀπέθανε μὲν οὖν περὶ Σικελίαν ὑπὸ Διονυσίου τοῦ τυράννου, τὰς δ᾽ αἰτίας, ἐφ᾽ αἷς ἀπέθανεν, Ἀντιφῶντι μᾶλλον ἢ Διονυσίῳ προσγράφομεν: διεφαύλιζε γὰρ τὰς τοῦ Διονυσίου τραγῳδίας, ἐφ᾽ αἷς ὁ Διονύσιος ἐφρόνει μεῖζον ἢ ἐπὶ τῷ τυραννεύειν, σπουδάζοντος δὲ τοῦ τυράννου περὶ εὐγενείας χαλκοῦ καὶ ἐρομένου τοὺς παρόντας, τίς ἤπειρος ἢ νῆσος, ἣ τὸν ἄριστον χαλκὸν φύει, παρατυχὼν ὁ Ἀντιφῶν τῷ λόγῳ‘ἐγὼ ἄριστον’ ἔφη ‘οἶδα τὸν Ἀθήνησιν, οὗ γεγόνασιν Ἁρμοδίου καὶ Ἀριστογείτονος εἰκόνες.’ ἐπὶ μὲν δὴ τούτοις ἀπέθανεν, ὡς ὑφέρπων τὸν Διονύσιον καὶ τρέπων ἐπ᾽ αὐτὸν τοὺς Σικελιώτας

Passages on the Origin of a Minotaur

A few years back, Erik made a post about Moonface’s Album of Songs about the Minotaur. It  made me think a lot about the story from the Minotaur’s (Asterion’s) perspective.  In general, the narratives that include him are about Theseus. Here are some passages about Pasiphae and the Minotaur.

Hesiod, Fr. 145.13–17

“When he looked in her eyes he longed for her
[and she gave herself over to the bull]
After she was impregnated, she gave birth to a powerful son to Minos,
A wonder to see: for he had the appearance of man
Down to his feet, but a bull’s head grew on top.”

τῆς δ’ ἄρ’ [ἐν ὀ]φθαλμοῖσιν̣ ἰ̣δὼν ἠράσ̣[σατο
†ταύρωι̣.[…]ρ̣ι̣μενησ̣κ̣α̣μ̣ε̣ρ̣μ̣ιδαο̣τα̣[†
ἣ δ’ ὑποκ̣[υσα]μένη Μίνωι τέκε κα[ρτερὸν υἱόν,
θαῦμα ἰ[δεῖν·] σ̣α μὲν γὰρ ἐπ̣έ̣κ̣λ̣ι̣ν̣[εν δέμας ἀνδρὶ
ἐς πόδα̣[ς], α̣ὐ̣τ̣ὰρ ὕ̣π̣ε̣ρθε κάρ̣η τ̣α̣[ύροιο πεφύκει

Suda, Epsilon 1421

“In every myth there is also Daidalos’ corruption”: People say that because Pasiphae lusted after a bull, she begged Daidalos to make her a wooden cow and, once he had set it up, to put her in it. When the bull mounted her as a cow he made her pregnant. The Minotaur was born from this. For certain reasons Minos was angry at the Athenians and he took from them seven maidens and the same number of youths. They were thrown to the beast. Since origin and responsibility for these evils were attributed to Daidalos and he was hated for them, this was translated into the proverb.”

᾿Εν παντὶ μύθῳ καὶ τὸ Δαιδάλου μύσος· Πασιφάην φασὶν ἐρασθεῖσαν ταύρου Δαίδαλον ἱκετεῦσαι ποιῆσαι ξυλίνην βοῦν καὶ κατασκευάσαντα αὐτὴν ἐνθεῖναι· ἣν ἐπιβαίνων ὡς βοῦν ὁ ταῦρος ἐγκύμονα ἐποίησεν. ἐξ ἧς ἐγεννήθη ὁ Μινώταυρος. Μίνως δὲ διά τινας αἰτίας ὀργιζόμενος τοῖς ᾿Αθηναίοις ἑπτὰ παρθένους καὶ ἴσους νέους ἐξ αὐτῶν ἐδασμολογεῖτο· οἳ παρεβάλλοντο τῷ θηρίῳ. εἰς Δαίδαλον οὖν ἀρχηγὸν τούτων τῶν κακῶν καὶ αἴτιον γενόμενον καὶ μυσαχθέντα ἐξηνέχθη εἰς παροιμίαν.

Heraclitus the Paradoxographer, 7 Concerning Pasiphae

“People claim that [Pasiphae] lusted after the Bull, not, as many believe, for an animal in a herd—for it would be ridiculous for a queen to desire such uncommon intercourse—instead she lusted for a certain local man whose name was Tauro [the bull]. She used as an accomplice for her desire Daidalos and she was impregnated. Then she gave birth to a son whom many used to call “Minos” but they would compare him to Tauro because of his similarity to him. So, he was nicknamed Mino-tauros from the combination.”

Περὶ Πασιφάης.
Ταύτην φασὶν ἐρασθῆναι Ταύρου, οὐχ, ὡς πολλοὶ
νομίζουσι, τοῦ κατὰ τὴν ἀγέλην ζῴου (γελοῖον γὰρ
ἀκοινωνήτου συνουσίας ὠρέχθαι τὴν βασίλισσαν), ἑνὸς
δέ τινος τῶν ἐντοπίων, ᾧ Ταῦρος ἦν ὄνομα. συνεργῷ
δὲ χρησαμένη πρὸς τὴν ἐπιθυμίαν Δαιδάλῳ καὶ γεγο-
νυῖα ἔγγυος, ἐγέννησε καθ’ ὁμοιότητα τοῦ Ταύρου
<υἱόν>, ὃν οἱ πολλοὶ Μίνω μὲν ἐκάλουν, Ταύρῳ δὲ
εἴκαζον· κατὰ δὲ σύνθεσιν Μινώταυρος ἐκλήθη.

Bacchylides, Dith. 26 (P.Oxy. 2364 fr. 1)

“[in] Pasiphae
The Kyprian goddess [sewed]
Longing [….]
To the son Eupalamos
The wisest of the craftsmen
She told Daidalos [about]
Her sickness. Credible oaths
She ordered him to make [so that]
So that she might have sex with the bull
But keep it secret from her husband
Minos, the oppressive-archer,
The general of the Knossians.
But when he learned of the tale,
He was overtaken by worry and
[about his] wife….

[ ]θεα̣ καὶ γ[.].[ ]
φρα.[ ]
Πασι[φ]ά̣[α]
εν Κύπ[ρις]
πόθον [ ]
Εὐπαλά[μοι’] υἱε[ῖ]
τεκτόν[ω]ν σοφω̣[τάτῳ]
φράσε Δαιδάλῳ ά.[ ]
νόσον· ὅρκια πισ[τ]
[ τ]ε τεύχειν κέλευ[σε]
μ̣είξειε ταυρείῳ σ[ ]
κρύπτουσα σύννο̣[μον]
Μίνωα [τ]οξοδάμαν[τα]
Κνωσσίων στρατα[γέταν·]
ὁ δ’ ἐπεὶ μάθε μῦθο[ν]
σχέτο φροντίδι· δε[ ]
[ ]ἀλόχου[ ]

Screenshot of a red figure vase with Pasiphae holding a baby Minotaur
the looks on their faces

An Alternate Telling of Medusa: Male Discourse Leads to Sexual Violence

 

Pausanias, 2.21.6

“A mound of earth is not far from a building in the Argive marketplace.  People claim the head of the Gorgon Medusa lies here.  Leaving aside the myth, here are the other things said about her. She was a daughter of Phorkos and, after her father died, she ruled those who lived near Lake Tritôn, going forth to hunt and leading the Libyans in war.  When she was in camp with the army against Perseus who was followed by selected troops from the Peloponnese, she was deviously murdered at night.  Perseus, who was amazed at her beauty, even in a corpse, cut off her head and took it to display to the Greeks.”

Screen shot of a closeup of Caravaggio's medusa, a head with an open mouth as if screaming, snakes for hair all around
Medusa (c. 1597). Oil on canvas mounted on wood, rotella (tournament shield), 60 × 55 cm (24 × 22 in). Uffizi Gallery, Florence

τοῦ δὲ ἐν τῇ ἀγορᾷ τῶν ᾿Αργείων οἰκοδομήματος οὐ μακρὰν χῶμα γῆς ἐστιν· ἐν δὲ αὐτῷ κεῖσθαι τὴν Μεδούσης λέγουσι τῆς Γοργόνος κεφαλήν. ἀπόντος δὲ τοῦ μύθου τάδε ἄλλα ἐς αὐτήν ἐστιν εἰρημένα· Φόρκου μὲν θυγατέρα εἶναι, τελευτήσαντος δέ οἱ τοῦ πατρὸς βασιλεύειν τῶν περὶ τὴν λίμνην τὴν Τριτωνίδα οἰκούντων καὶ ἐπὶ θήραν τε ἐξιέναι καὶ ἐς τὰς μάχας ἡγεῖσθαι τοῖς Λίβυσι καὶ δὴ καὶ τότε ἀντικαθημένην στρατῷ πρὸς τὴν Περσέως δύναμιν—ἕπεσθαι γὰρ καὶ τῷ Περσεῖ λογάδας ἐκ Πελοποννήσου—δολοφονηθῆναι νύκτωρ, καὶ τὸν Περσέα τὸ κάλλος ἔτι καὶ ἐπὶ νεκρῷ θαυμάζοντα οὕτω τὴν κεφαλὴν ἀποτεμόντα αὐτῆς ἄγειν τοῖς ῞Ελλησιν ἐς ἐπίδειξιν.

The Byzantine Suda has its own take on the legend.  It is not less misogynistic:

“Medousa: She is also called Gorgonê. Perseus, the son of Danae and Pêkos, after learning every kind of magical display, because he wanted to establish his own kingdom, made plans against the realm of the Medes. And so, after he travelled over much land, he saw a maiden who was intelligent and ugly and, as he looked away from her, he asked “who are you” and she said, “Medousa”. He cut off her head and prepared it as he had been taught and held it up. He made everyone panic and killed those who witnessed it.  He called this head the Gorgonê because of the sharpness of its power.

From there, he went to the land ruled by Kêpheus and found a virgin girl in a temple who was named Andromeda and whom he married. He founded a city in this country called Amandra and set up a pillar which held the Gorgonê. This was called the Ikonion and, because of the object, the Gorgonê. He then made war against the Isaurians, the Kilikians and he founded a city which he called Tarsos, which before was called Andrasos. He had received a prophecy that after the victory he should found a city and name it Tarsos in thanks for the victory in the place where he put the flat of his foot [tarsos] in when he got off his horse.

After conquering the Medes, he changed the name of their country and called it Persis. He taught some of the Persians whom he named Magi the mystery rite which he had performed with the Gorgonê. At that time, a ball of fire whirled from the heaven. Perseus took some of it and gave it to some of the tribe to guard and honor because it had been hurled from heaven.

Then he waged war on Kêpheus, whom old age left blind and dull in the dead, because he thought the Gorgonê was now useless But when Perseus campaigned against him and saw [Medousa’s head] he died. Later on, Merros, Perseus’ son, burned the head.”

Μέδουσα: ἡ καὶ Γοργόνη κληθεῖσα. Περσεύς, ὁ Δανάης καὶ Πήκου υἱός, διδαχθεὶς πάσας τὰς μυστικὰς φαντασίας, ἰδίαν βουλόμενος ἑαυτῷ καταστῆσαι βασιλείαν κατεφρόνησε τῆς τῶν Μήδων· καὶ διὰ πολλῆς ἐρχόμενος γῆς εἶδε παρθένον κόρην αὐχμηράν τε καὶ δυσειδῆ, καὶ ἀποβλέψας εἰς αὐτὴν ἐρωτᾷ, τίς καλεῖται· ἡ δὲ εἶπε, Μέδουσα, καὶ ἀποτεμὼν αὐτῆς τὴν κεφαλὴν ἐτέλεσεν αὐτὴν ὡς ἐδιδάχθη, καὶ ἐβάσταζε, καταπλήττων πάντας καὶ ἀναιρῶν τοὺς ὁρῶντας· ἥν τινα κεφαλὴν ἐκάλεσε Γοργόνην, διὰ τὴν ὀξύτητα τῆς ἐνεργείας.

ἐκεῖθεν δὲ ἐλθὼν εἰς χώραν βασιλευομένην ὑπὸ Κηφέως εὗρεν ἐν τῷ ἱερῷ παρθένον κόρην, τὴν λεγομένην ᾿Ανδρομέδαν, ἣν ἔγημε· καὶ κτίζει πόλιν εἰς κώμην, λεγομένην ῎Αμανδραν, στήσας καὶ στήλην βαστάζουσαν τὴν Γοργόνην. αὕτη μετεκλήθη ᾿Ικόνιον, διὰ τὸ ἀπεικόνισμα τῆς Γοργόνης. ἐπολέμησε δὲ καὶ ᾿Ισαύροις καὶ Κίλιξι καὶ κτίζει πόλιν, ἣν ἐκάλεσε Ταρσόν, το πρὶν λεγομένην ᾿Ανδρασόν. χρηματισθεὶς δέ, ὅτι μετὰ τὴν νίκην ἐν ᾧ τόπῳ ἀποβὰς ἀπὸ τοῦ ἵππου τὸν ταρσὸν τοῦ ποδὸς ἀπόθηται, ἐκεῖ ὑπὲρ τῶν νικητηρίων κτίσαι πόλιν,ταύτην οὖν ἐκάλεσε Ταρσόν.

νικήσας δὲ καὶ τοὺς Μήδους ἤμειψε τὸ ὄνομα τῆς χώρας καὶ ἐκάλεσεν αὐτὴν Περσίδα. ἐδίδαξε δὲ καὶ τὴν μυσαρὰν τελετὴν τὴν ἐπὶ τῇ Γοργόνῃ τινὰς τῶν Περσῶν, οὓς ἐκάλεσε μάγους. καθ’ οὓς χρόνους καὶ σφαῖρα πυρὸς κατηνέχθη ἐκ τοῦ οὐρανοῦ, ἐξ ἧς ἔλαβε πῦρ ὁ Περσεὺς καὶ παρέδωκε τοῖς τοῦ ἔθνους φυλάττειν καὶ τιμᾶν, ὡς ἐκ τοῦ οὐρανοῦ κατενεχθέν. συμβαλὼν δὲ πόλεμον τῷ Κηφεῖ, τοῦ δὲ διὰ τὸ γῆρας μὴ βλέποντος καὶ τῆς κεφαλῆςμὴ ἐνεργούσης, δοκῶν αὐτὴν ἀνωφελῆ εἶναι, ἐπιστρέψας πρὸς ἑαυτὸν ὁ Περσεὺς καὶ ταύτην θεασάμενος ἀποθνήσκει. ταύτην ὕστερον ἔκαυσεν ὁ υἱὸς αὐτοῦ Μέρρος.

Speaking of Centaurs:

Paradeigmatic Problems in Iliad 1

In the first book of the Iliad, Nestor attempts to intervene in the conflict between Achilles and Agamemnon. He eventually tells both men to simmer down—Achilles should act insubordinately and Agamemnon shouldn’t take Briseis. Neither of them listen to him. The reason—beyond the fact that neither of them are in a compromising state of mind—may in part be because of the story Nestor tells.

Il. 1.259–273

“But listen to me: both of you are younger than me; for long before have I accompanied men better than even you and they never disregarded me. For I never have seen those sort of men since, nor do I expect to see them; men like Perithoos and Dryas, the shepherd of the host, and Kaineus and Exadios and godly Polyphemos and Aigeus’ son Theseus, who was equal to the gods; indeed these were the strongest of mortal men who lived—they were the strongest and they fought with the strongest, mountain-inhabiting beasts, and they destroyed them violently. And I accompanied them when I left Pylos far off from a distant land when they summoned me themselves; and I fought on my own. No one could fight with them, none of those mortals who now are on the earth. Even they listened to my counsel and heeded my speech.”

ἀλλὰ πίθεσθ’· ἄμφω δὲ νεωτέρω ἐστὸν ἐμεῖο·
ἤδη γάρ ποτ’ ἐγὼ καὶ ἀρείοσιν ἠέ περ ὑμῖν
ἀνδράσιν ὡμίλησα, καὶ οὔ ποτέ μ’ οἵ γ’ ἀθέριζον.
οὐ γάρ πω τοίους ἴδον ἀνέρας οὐδὲ ἴδωμαι,
οἷον Πειρίθοόν τε Δρύαντά τε ποιμένα λαῶν
Καινέα τ’ ᾿Εξάδιόν τε καὶ ἀντίθεον Πολύφημον
Θησέα τ’ Αἰγεΐδην, ἐπιείκελον ἀθανάτοισιν·
κάρτιστοι δὴ κεῖνοι ἐπιχθονίων τράφεν ἀνδρῶν·
κάρτιστοι μὲν ἔσαν καὶ καρτίστοις ἐμάχοντο
φηρσὶν ὀρεσκῴοισι καὶ ἐκπάγλως ἀπόλεσσαν.
καὶ μὲν τοῖσιν ἐγὼ μεθομίλεον ἐκ Πύλου ἐλθὼν
τηλόθεν ἐξ ἀπίης γαίης· καλέσαντο γὰρ αὐτοί·
καὶ μαχόμην κατ’ ἔμ’ αὐτὸν ἐγώ· κείνοισι δ’ ἂν οὔ τις
τῶν οἳ νῦν βροτοί εἰσιν ἐπιχθόνιοι μαχέοιτο·
καὶ μέν μευ βουλέων ξύνιεν πείθοντό τε μύθῳ·

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a screen shot of a vase painting showing the battle of thethe lapiths-and-centaurs

Ancient commentators praise Nestor elsewhere for his ability to apply appropriate examples in his persuasive speeches:

Schol. Ad Il. 23.630b ex. 1-6: “[Nestor] always uses appropriate examples. For, whenever he wants to encourage someone to enter one-on-one combat, he speaks of the story of Ereuthaliôn (7.136-56); when he wanted to rouse Achilles to battle, he told the story of the Elean war (11.671¬–761). And here in the games for Patroklos, he reminds them of an ancient funeral contest.”

ex. ὡς ὁπότε κρείοντ'<—᾿Επειοί>: ἀεὶ οἰκείοις παραδείγμασι χρῆται· ὅταν μὲν γάρ τινα ἐπὶ μονομάχιον ἐξαναστῆσαι θέλῃ, τὰ περὶ ᾿Ερευθαλίωνα (sc. Η 136—56) λέγει, ὅταν δὲ ᾿Αχιλλέα ἐπὶ τὴν μάχην, τὰ περὶ τὸν ᾿Ηλειακὸν πόλεμον (sc. Λ 671—761)·
καὶ ἐν τοῖς ἐπὶ Πατρόκλῳ ἄθλοις παλαιοῦ ἐπιταφίου μέμνηται ἀγῶνος.

The scholia also assert that such use of stories from the past is typical of and appropriate to elders:

Schol. ad Il. 9.447b ex. 1-2 : “The elderly are storytellers and they persuade with examples from the past. In other cases, the tale assuages the anger…”

μυθολόγοι οἱ γέροντες καὶ παραδείγμασι παραμυθούμενοι. ἄλλως τε ψυχαγωγεῖ τὴν ὀργὴν ὁ μῦθος.

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Not just elders of course! Singers and teachers are positioned as authorities who should (and do) use narrative examples to form the characters of the young (the first comment comes in response to Achilles’ playing of the lyre; the second comment is prompted by Phoinix’s tale of Meleager presented to Achilles in the 9th book of the Iliad:

Schol. A ad. Il. 9.189b ex. 1-2: “Klea andrôn: [this is because] it is right to be ever-mindful of good men. For singers make their audiences wise through ancient narratives.”

ex. κλέα ἀνδρῶν: ὅτι ἀειμνήστους δεῖ τοὺς ἀγαθοὺς εἶναι· οἱ γὰρ ἀοιδοὶ διὰ τῶν παλαιῶν ἱστοριῶν τοὺς ἀκούοντας ἐσωφρόνιζον.

Schol. ad Il. 9.447b ex. 1-2 : “The elderly are storytellers and they persuade with examples from the past. In other cases, the tale assuages the anger…”

μυθολόγοι οἱ γέροντες καὶ παραδείγμασι παραμυθούμενοι. ἄλλως τε ψυχαγωγεῖ τὴν ὀργὴν ὁ μῦθος.

For Nestor’s speech, the ancient critics do concede that there is some rhetorical grace in the elder’s choice of detail:

Schol. bT ad Il. 1.271c ex. 3-5: “[Nestor] does not mention that Peleus [Achilles’ father] was Agamemnon’s friend so that he doesn’t appear to be rebuking Achilles if his father obeyed him some, but he does not.”

Πηλέως δὲ οὐκ ἐμνήσθη ὡς ᾿Αγαμέμνονος φίλος, ἵνα μὴ δοκῇ ἐλέγχειν ᾿Αχιλλέα, εἴ γε ὁ πατὴρ αὐτοῦ τι πέπεισται, ὁ δὲ οὔ.

But in explaining the details of Nestor’s speech—that he is alluding to the mythical battle of the Lapiths vs. the Centaurs—the scholiast may hit upon part of the problem of Nestor’s example:

Schol. bT ad Il. 1.266 ex 1-2: “These were the strongest men: but they were the strongest in competing against the remaining beasts”.

<κάρτιστοι δὴ κεῖνοι—ἀπόλεσσαν:> κάρτιστοι μὲν οὗτοι τῶν ἀνδρῶν· ἐκεῖνοι δὲ κράτιστοι πρὸς τὰ λοιπὰ συγκρινόμενοι θηρία.

Unlike Nestor’s other tales, this one does not fit the context. He uses it in an attempt to establish his own heroic bona fides. But what his audience(s) hear is some rambling tale about fighting beasts they are not fighting. The conflict is between men who are supposed to be on the same side.

As an aside, Xenophanes would prefer we avoid talking about Centaurs altogether:

Xenophanes, fr. B1 13-24

“First, it is right for merry men to praise the god
with righteous tales and cleansing words
after they have poured libations and prayed to be able to do
what is right: in fact, these things are easier to do,
instead of sacrilege. It is right as well to drink as much as you can
and still go home without help, unless you are very old.
It is right to praise a man who shares noble ideas when drinking
so that we remember and work towards excellence.
It is not right to narrate the wars of Titans or Giants
nor again of Centaurs, the fantasies of our forebears,
Nor of destructive strife. There is nothing useful in these tales.
It is right always to keep in mind good thoughts of the gods.”

χρὴ δὲ πρῶτον μὲν θεὸν ὑμνεῖν εὔφρονας ἄνδρας
εὐφήμοις μύθοις καὶ καθαροῖσι λόγοις,
σπείσαντάς τε καὶ εὐξαμένους τὰ δίκαια δύνασθαι
πρήσσειν• ταῦτα γὰρ ὦν ἐστι προχειρότερον,
οὐχ ὕβρεις• πίνειν δ’ ὁπόσον κεν ἔχων ἀφίκοιο
οἴκαδ’ ἄνευ προπόλου μὴ πάνυ γηραλέος.
ἀνδρῶν δ’ αἰνεῖν τοῦτον ὃς ἐσθλὰ πιὼν ἀναφαίνει,
ὡς ἦι μνημοσύνη καὶ τόνος ἀμφ’ ἀρετῆς,
οὔ τι μάχας διέπειν Τιτήνων οὐδὲ Γιγάντων
οὐδὲ Κενταύρων, πλάσμα τῶν προτέρων,
ἢ στάσιας σφεδανάς• τοῖς οὐδὲν χρηστὸν ἔνεστιν•
θεῶν προμηθείην αἰὲν ἔχειν ἀγαθήν.

Post-Script:

In a later post, I will talk more about what I see as some of the most important themes to emphasize when working with students on the Iliad. One of them is the way Homeric poetry positions itself in relation to other narrative traditions.

A commonly recognized feature in the speeches of Homer’s heroes is the offering of an example from another mythical tradition, called a paradeigma. In particular, paradeigmata provide an opportunity to think about how Homeric characters relate to stories from their own past and make sense of their present. At the same time, they also provide opportunities for audiences to think about how the Iliad might be used as a paradigm for their lives.

My personal take is that the Iliad is particularly interested in where examples from other narratives create dissonance with the contexts to which they are compared. This example from book one in the Iliad is a clear one; but the epic ends with such an example as well when Achilles provides the paradigm of Niobe to Priam in order to convince him to eat. The epic is, in my opinion, engaged from beginning to end in getting audiences to think about just how effective extant narratives are as models for the challenges they face in the world outside the story. And, I think, it anticipates its own use as a problematic model for others, clearly when Achilles says (19.64–65): “This was better for the Hektor and the Trojans: I think that the Achaeans will remember our strife for a long time.” (῞Εκτορι μὲν καὶ Τρωσὶ τὸ κέρδιον· αὐτὰρ ᾿Αχαιοὺς / δηρὸν ἐμῆς καὶ σῆς ἔριδος μνήσεσθαι ὀΐω)

Major Iliadic Paradeigmata

1.259–274                       Nestor’s tale of the Lapiths and Centaurs

1.393–407                       Thetis’ rescue of Zeus

4.370–400                       Agamemnon’s Tale of Tydeus

5.382–404                       Dionê’s list of gods harmed by mortals

6.130-140 Diomedes on Lykourgos and Dionysus to Glaukos

7.124–160                       Nestor’s one-on-one combat);

9.524–605                       Phoinix’s Meleager Tale

11.669–762                    Nestor’s story to Patroklos

14.315–328                    Zeus’ Erotic Catalogue

15.18–30                         Zeus’ Warning to Hera

18.394–405                    Thetis’ rescue of Hephaestus;

19. 90–144                      Agamemnon’s tale of Atê, Zeus and the birth of Herakles

[23.629–643                  Nestor’s Reminiscence]

24.596–620                    Achilles’ tale of Niobê

Andersen (1987) on paradeigmata: primary, secondary, and tertiary functions

1.                Persuasion of one character by another

2.                Reflection of the main story

3.                Modeling of reading the epic as a whole; cf. Nagy 2009, 54: “[Homeric] poetry actually demonstrates how myth is activated”

Some things to read on paradeigmata

Andersen, Øivind. 1987. “Myth Paradigm and Spatial Form in the Iliad.” In Homer Beyond Oral Poetry: Recent Trends in Homeric Interpretation, edited by Jan Bermer and Irene J. F. De Jong. John Benjamins.’

Barker, Elton T. E. and Christensen, Joel P. 2011. “On Not Remembering Tydeus: Agamemnon, Diomedes and the Contest for Thebes.” MD: 9–44.

Brenk, F. 1984 “Dear Child: the Speech of Phoinix and the Tragedy of Achilles in the Ninth Book of the Iliad.” Eranos, 86: 77–86.

Braswell, B. K. 1971. “Mythological Innovation in the Iliad.” CQ, 21: 16-26.

Clark, Matthew. 1997. “Chryses’ Supplication: Speech Act and Mythological Allusion.” Classical Antiquity, 17: 5–24.

Combellack, F.M. 1976. “Homer the Innovator.” CP 71: 44-55.

Edmunds, L. 1997. Myth in Homer, in A New Companion to Homer, edited by I. Morris and B. Powell, 415–441. Leiden.

Held, G. 1987. “Phoinix, Agamemnon and Achilles. Problems and Paradeigmata.” CQ 36: 141-54.

Martin, Richard. 1989. The Language of Heroes: Speech and Performance in the Iliad. Ithaca.

Minchin, Elizabeth. 1991. “Speaker and Listener, Text and Context: Some Notes on the Encounter of Nestor and Patroklos in Iliad 11.” CW 84: 273-285.

Nagy, Gregory. 1996. Homeric Questions, Austin.

—,—. 2009. “Homer and Greek Myth.” Cambridge Companion to Greek Mythology, 52–82.

Pedrick, V. 1983. “The Paradigmatic Nature of Nestor’s Speech in Iliad 11.” Transactions and Proceedings of the American Philological Society, 113:55-68.

Tierney, William G. 1989. Curricular Landscapes, Democratic Vistas: Transformative Leadership in Higher Education New York: Praeger.

Toohey, Peter. 1994. “Epic and Rhetoric.” In Persuasion: Greek Rhetoric in Actions edited by Ian Worthington. London: Routledge: 153–75.

Willcock, M.M. 1967. “Mythological Paradeigmata in the Iliad.” Classical Quarterly, 14:141-151.

____,____. 1977, Ad hoc invention in the Iliad, HSCP 81:41–53.

Yamagata, Naoko. 1991. “Phoinix’s Speech: Is Achilles Punished?” Classical Quarterly, 41:1-15.