Iliad. Homer. ed. Robert Southey. London. 1847.
Sponsored by Tufts University.
Iliad. Homer. ed. Robert Southey. London. 1847.
Sponsored by Tufts University.
English (William Cowper, 1791, ed. Southey) (OCR draft) (English) (English (William Cowper, 1791, ed. Southey))
Provisional text from uncorrected OCR; expect errors.
contrast between Nestor who affirms the positive sign from Zeus regarding the Achaeans return and Agamemnon who denies it
comment on the formulaic language of Zeus’ promising and nodding in assent in response to prayer (of returning from Troy)
in the context of interpreting Menelaos as “he who incites the warfolk”; example of laos as referring to one’s own even with ōlese
commentary on Odysseus’ restraining and Nestor’s inciting the Achaeans, corresponding to the contrast between them on their nostos (as the mortal and immortal twins, respectively)
commentary on Odysseus’ restraining and Nestor’s inciting the Achaeans, corresponding to the contrast between them on their nostos (as the mortal and immortal twins, respectively)
commentary on Odysseus’ restraining and Nestor’s inciting the Achaeans, corresponding to the contrast between them on their nostos (as the mortal and immortal twins, respectively)
commentary on Odysseus’ restraining and Nestor’s inciting the Achaeans, corresponding to the contrast between them on their nostos (as the mortal and immortal twins, respectively)
commentary on Odysseus’ restraining and Nestor’s inciting the Achaeans, corresponding to the contrast between them on their nostos (as the mortal and immortal twins, respectively)
in the context of discussing the interpretation of Nestor’s name and the meaning of forms from the root *nes- as “safe return home” or without “home” where it needed to be specified
commentary on Odysseus’ restraining and Nestor’s inciting the Achaeans, corresponding to the contrast between them on their nostos (as the mortal and immortal twins, respectively)
in the context of discussing the contrast between Odysseus and Nestor in terms of their referring to signs from gods (Odysseus recalls one interpreted by Calchas, Nestor one he saw for himself)
commentary on Odysseus’ restraining and Nestor’s inciting the Achaeans, corresponding to the contrast between them on their nostos (as the mortal and immortal twins, respectively)
comment on the formulaic language of Zeus’ promising and nodding in assent in response to prayer (of returning from Troy) and the variation on it in this passage
in the context of discussing the contrast between Odysseus and Nestor in terms of their referring to signs from gods (Odysseus recalls one interpreted by Calchas, Nestor one he saw for himself)
in the context of discussing the contrast between Odysseus and Nestor in terms of their referring to signs from gods (Odysseus recalls one interpreted by Calchas, Nestor one he saw for himself)
example of laos as referring to one’s own in contexts where there is a contrast between “leader(s)” and those who “follow”
citation of formulaic use of haloûsá te perthoménē te as example where halṓō means “to be seized” in Homer
discussion of the singularity of the Athenian entry in the Catalogue of Ships and comparison with other entries (here, Boeotia)
discussion of the singularity of the Athenian entry in the Catalogue of Ships and comparison with other entries (here, Orkhomenos)
discussion of the singularity of the Athenian entry in the Catalogue of Ships and comparison with other entries (here, Euboea)
discussion of the temple of Athena and Erechtheus in Athens and the latter’s removal from it so that it was only Athena Polias’, and the passage, correctly understood, as presupposing that the shrine of Erechtheus was separate from the temple of Athena
discussion of the temple of Athena and Erechtheus in Athens and the latter’s removal from it so that it was only Athena Polias’, and the passage as reflecting the state of affairs after Erechtheus had taken over Poseidon’s shrine
the passage as reflecting Erechtheus birth from Earth instead of from Athena
discussion of Erechtheus temple and yearly sacrifices
discussion of evidence for Athena and Erechtheus as a pair, and this passage from the Catalogue of Ships as reflecting later circumstances than O.07.078-081
discussion of relationship of Athena (Polias) and Erechtheus, and contrast with their representation in O.07
comment on Erechtheus epithet megalētōr as one used only of heroic warriors (to convey the warlike nature of Athenians)
discussion of interpreting the temple mentioned as Erechtheus’, not Athena’s
comment on Erechtheus’ relocation as described in terms of Athena’s own primordial act, and as reflecting their new cult relationship
discussion of the different versions of Erectheus’ myth and Athena’s role in the newer version as given in the Catalogue of Ships
comment dios thugatēr as Athena’s epithet here as marking her as a war goddess, not the old Athenian mother goddess (to convey the warlike nature of Athenians)
comment on Athena as kourotrophos as compatible with her virginity and how her larger role as a mother goddess is limited here
comment on interpreting eō en pioni nēō as “in his own rich temple” (i.e. Erechtheus’ as opposed to Athena’s)
comment on the ambiguity of the pronouns (his or her temple) and how the passage does therefore not openly conflict with the old situation between Erechtheus and Athena
discussion of relationship of Athena (Polias) and Erechtheus, and contrast with their representation in O.07
comment on the ambiguity of the pronouns (his or her temple) and how the passage does therefore not openly conflict with the old situation between Erechtheus and Athena
comparison of sacrifices to Poseidon Erechtheus in Euripides and Iliad
comparison of this passage on sacrifices to Erechtheus with Hymn to Demeter 259-267 (cult of Demophoon)
arguments that only parts of the Athenian catalogue have an Athenian origin
analysis of the Athenian entry in the Catalogue of Ships as conveying the warlike nature of the Athenians
arguments that only parts of the Athenian catalogue have an Athenian origin
alleged interpolations in the Catalogue of the Ships in antiquity and the Megarians alternative version with no mention of Athens
on the Athenian forgery in support of Athens’ claim to Salamis
on Solon’s alleged addition to the Catalogue of Ships to support Athens’ claim to Salamis and taking Homeric poems literally in matters of geography and politics in antiquity
attribution of the interpolation in the Catalogue of Ships to both Solon and Peisistratos
alleged interpolations in the Catalogue of Ships in antiquity
on Agamemnon’s Mycenae as not standing alone but as one of twelve towns in its entry in the Catalogue of Ships
example of an attested interpolation of one letter (Gonoessan for Donoessan)
discussion of location of Aigialos
example of laos as referring to one’s own in contexts where there is a contrast between “leader(s)” and those who “follow”
analysis of how alive the meaning of the name Agelaos was based on the collocation of agein with laos
comparison of the geography in I.11.722-736 with that in the passage (esp. regarding the Minyan river, Arene, and Thryon)
comparison of the geography in Hom. Hymn to Apollo 418424 with that in the passage (esp. regarding the Alpheios river)
comparison of the geography in I.11.711-713 with that in the line (esp. regarding the identification of Thryoessa and Thryon in the two passages)
comparison of the geography in I.11.711 with that in the line (esp. regarding Thryoessa and Thryon in the two passages)
analysis of the Hom. Hymns’ quoting the Homeric poems (here, Hom. Hymn to Apollo 423 quoting this line)
identification of Thryon and Epitalion, and Strabo’s alternative interpretation of the line according to which Epitalion was Aipu and Thryon the ford of Alpheios rather than a town
analysis of the location of Thryon/identification with Epitalion
analysis of a pattern violating Hermann’s bridge and this feature in the Hom. Hymn to Apollo’s quoting this line (and contra Richard Martin 2000a)
identification of Thryoessa of I.11 with Thryon of this line
analysis of the location of Oichalia (and connections to Makhaon and Podaleirios), in the context of the analysis of Thessaly’s and Messenia’s claims to be Makhaon’s homeland
analysis of the Epeian entry in the Catalogue of Ships and comparison with the geography in I.11
analysis of Amarynkeus’ and Augeias’ “age”/order (in terms of generations) and comparison with I.11 and I.23 regarding them
analysis of the construction in combination of the construction in I.02.617 as suspect, therefore making its relationship to I.11.757 uncertain (where the expansion seems to be based on I.02.617)
comparison of the line with I.11.757 and the geography in both passages
analysis of the location of the Olenian Rock and other features of the geography in the passage and I.11
comment on the names of the Molione and comparison with Hesiod fr. 17a14-16 MW
analysis of Amarynkeus’ and Augeias’ “age”/order (in terms of generations), here the possibility that Amarunkeidēs in the line in question means “descendant of Amarynkeus” rather than “son of Amarynkeus”
discussion of asmenos as root aorist participle with zero-grade of the root *nes and García Ramón’s argument that apenassato in this line is from neomai, not naiō
contrast between the entries for Sume (singled out for its weakness and that of its leader Nireus) and for Athens, both of which name only one town
example of laos as referring to one’s own in contexts where there is a contrast between “leader(s)” and those who “follow”
example of laos as referring to one’s own in contexts where there is a contrast between “leader(s)” and those who “follow”
analysis of Makhaon and Podaleirios as twins and comparison with Nestor (and Periklymenos)
analysis of the location of Oichalia (and connections to Makhaon and Podaleirios)
analysis of the location of the Ainianes and the Perrhaiboi in the Iliad and the Hom. Hymn to Apollo
comparison of Strabo and Homer on the waters of Peneios and Titaresios not mixing
discussion of the singularity of the Athenian entry in the Catalogue of Ships and comparison with other entries (here, Boeotia)
attitude towards females in the chariot race compared with that of the role of female in the failure of Agamemnon’s (and Menelaus’) nostos
this line as one of the counterexamples for identifying unmodified laos as one’s own
example of laos as referring to one’s own in contexts where there is a contrast between “leader(s)” and those who “follow”
analysis of the Homeric references to the Lydians in the context of discussing the performance of the Homeric poems at the Panionia
analysis of the Gygaean lake (name, location) in the context of discussing the Homeric poems’ awareness of the Lydians and Gyges
analysis of Iliadic references to “the lake of Gyges”
analysis of the Homeric reference to Cape Mykale, the site of the future Panionia, in the context of discussing the performance of the Homeric poems at the Panionia
analysis of an Ionian Athens in I.13.685-691 as fitting in with a Carian Miletus in the Trojan Catalogue of Ships
analysis of the Homeric references to the Lydians in the context of discussing the performance of the Homeric poems at the Panionia
analysis of the Homeric references to the Lydians in the context of discussing the performance of the Homeric poems at the Panionia
The narrative of Rhapsody 2 now follows up on the dire consequences of the quarrel between Achilles and Agamemnon as narrated in Rhapsody 1. Achilles has already withdrawn from the war because of his anger. So, now that this greatest hero of the Achaeans is out of the picture, what will happen next? How will the absence of Achilles affect the story of the Trojan War? Many new doubts and fears set in, and the resolve of the Achaeans is harshly tested. There is negative talk, and there are omens. Thus the story of the Trojan War, as told and retold countless times in the distant past, must now be retold yet again, and Rhapsody 2 will set the terms for the retelling still to come. For setting the terms, Rhapsody 2 will need a new Catalogue of Ships, now happening in the tenth year of the war, as a replacement for any old Catalogue that would have logically happened already in the first year. This new Catalogue is of course not really new: rather, it is the oldest possible Catalogue that is now being renewed for the newest possible retelling of the Trojan War, reconsidered in the glaring light of the grim consequences facing the Achaeans now that Achilles has withdrawn from the war. With these consequences in view, the Catalogue will reassess all the Achaean heroes involved in the Trojan War. Of special interest will be the role of Protesilaos, who had been the first Achaean to die in the war, as a model for Achilles. As the Master Narrator notes most ruefully, Protesilaos is now terribly missed by his fellow warriors. So too will Achilles be missed.
On the reverse side of the coin:
Inscription: ΘΗΒΑΙΩΝ.
Pictured: the Greek hero Protesilaos, the first Achaean to step on Trojan soil and, according to the myth, the first to die in the Trojan War.
The myth is retold in Iliad 2.695–709.
The False Dream, personified, announces himself to the sleeping Agamemnon, describing himself as the Dios angelos ‘messenger of Zeus’.
Countering the claim of Achilles to be the ‘best of the Achaeans’, Agamemnon here lays claim to the same title, and the verb for expressing such a claim is eukhesthai ‘claim’.
This expression needs to be added to the cumulative evidence showing that a person who holds a skēptron ‘scepter’ speaks with the authority of a king—an authority emanating from Zeus.
In this verse, I.02.094, the epithet Dios angelos ‘messenger of Zeus’ applies to the noun ossa ‘oracular voice’ as found in the previous verse, I.02.093.
In the Homeric Iliad, the hero Pelops figures as an archetype of political power. The sequence of kings in the Peloponnesus is limited to the dynastic lineage starting with Pelops.
This is the second occurrence of the noun therapōn in the Iliad; the plural form here is therapontes. The surface meaning of therapōn in Homeric diction is ‘attendant’, and a fitting example is the word’s first occurrence in the Iliad, at I.01.321; the deeper meaning, however, is ‘ritual substitute’. In contexts where the plural therapontes in combination with Arēos ‘of Ares’ is applied to the Achaeans=Danaans=Argives (at I.02.110, to the Danaans) as a grouping of warriors, the deeper meaning is more evident than in other contexts. When a warrior is killed in war, he becomes a therapōn or ‘ritual substitute’ who dies for Ares by becoming identical to the war god at the moment of death; then, after death, the warrior is eligible to become a cult hero who serves as a sacralized ‘attendant’ of the war god in contexts of hero cult.
The words of this challenge directed against the over-king Agamemnon by Sthenelos, chariot driver of Diomedes, recall the epic traditions of the Epigonoi = Sons-of-the-Seven-against-Thebes. Since Sthenelos figures as a character in two epic traditions, both the Iliadic and the Epigonic, his wording here can be seen as a cross-reference from the Iliadic tradition to the Epigonic. The cross-reference sets up a rivalry between the two epic traditions: the question is, are the Epigonoi as heroic characters superior to the heroic characters of the Iliad?
analysis of the coexistence of the Attic and the Koine usage in this verse and the claim that ‘Homer’ was capable of both
This word indicates the language of blame vs. praise. Such words can refer to blame as a foil for epic.
The expression erizemenai basileusin ‘engage in strife against kings’ is a programmatic way of referring to the language of blame as a challenge to royalty. In the Iliad, Thersites is a prime exponent of blame poetry. He has a “speaking name” (nomen loquens), since Thersī́tēs is related to the noun thersos/thrasos, which refers to a negative kind of ‘boldness’ in contexts of blame poetry: see the comment at O.18.001–004.
The programmatic representation of Thersites as an exponent of blame poetry is summed up in the description of this character as aiskhistos ‘most disgraceful’. In the Poetics of Aristotle (1449a), the semantics of the underlying (a) noun aiskhos ‘disgrace, shame’ and (b) adjective aiskhron ‘disgraceful, shameful’ can be seen as the basic context of blame poetry.
The content of the words of Thersites as blame poetry is matched by the form of the blame poet: just as the content is ugly, the form too is ugly. Thersites actually looks ugly. If we compare the figure of Thersites with the figure of Aesop, who is represented in myth as an exponent of blame as well as praise whenever he performs an ainos ‘fable’, those aspects of Aesop that gravitate toward blame are reflected in the portrayals of this character as markedly ugly.
As an exponent of blame poetry, which is antithetical to the poetry of epic as a vehicle for praising what is good about heroes, Thersites is truly ekhthistos ‘most hateful’ to the primary two heroes of epic poetry as represented by the Homeric Iliad and Odyssey, who are of course Achilles and Odysseus respectively. As we read at I.02.220–221, Thersites has his quarrels especially with these two heroes, and the verb neikeîn ‘quarrel with’ as used here at I.02.221, together with the corresponding noun neikos ‘quarrel’ as used elsewhere, refers programmatically to the poetics of blame.
Besides the noun neikos (plural neikea) ‘quarrel’ and the verb neikeîn ‘quarrel with’, on both of which see the comment on I.02.221, another set of words referring to the poetics of blame as antithetical to the poetics of praise in general and of epic in particular is the noun oneidos (plural oneidea), as here, meaning ‘words of insult’, and the verb oneidein, meaning ‘say words of insult’, as elsewhere.
Here again, the verb neikeîn ‘quarrel with’ refers to the poetics of blame.
Epic quotes here directly the poetry of blame as displayed by Thersites. His words of blame are introduced and concluded at I.02.224 and I.02.243 respectively by way of the word neikeîn ‘quarrel with’. Although Thersites addresses Agamemnon, insulting him directly, he insults indirectly all the Achaeans, including Achilles. Among the specific insults hurled at Agamemnon are accusations of greedy behavior, I.02.237.
Thersites directs his blame at the Achaeans, ridiculing them by feminizing them. The noun elenkhos ‘disgrace’ is meant to shame the persons insulted by the poetics of blame.
Here the words of blame uttered by Thersites insult Achilles, calling into question the motives of that hero. It is as if the anger of Achilles were not real. This kind of misrepresentation by way of blame poetry is described as ekhthrā parphasis ‘invidious side-wording’ in Pindar Nemean 8.32.
Thersites here is insulted by words of blame because he has used the words of blame to insult the noble. Nobility, when insulted by words of blame, can stoop to insult in return by way of using the same words.
The insulting language of Thersites is here being insulted in return: his discourse is described as a-krito-mūthos ‘having words that cannot be sorted out’. So, the blame poetry of Thersites is bad poetry.
Throughout this speech, Thersites is insulted by words of blame because he has used the words of blame to insult the noble.
Here again, the expression erizemenai basileusin ‘engage in strife against kings’ is a programmatic way of referring to the language of blame as a challenge to royalty.
Just as Achilles and Odysseus are the ‘best of the Achaeans’, Thersites is the ‘worst’, according to the insulting words of counter-blame spoken by Oydsseus.
This word kertomeîn ‘say words of insult’ is yet another term referring to the act of insulting by way of blame poetry.
Thersites, by blaming the heroes of the Iliad, had intended to turn them into objects of laughter by way of ridicule. But the blame is reversed, and now it is Thersites who becomes the object of laughter.
This word epes-bolos ‘thrower of words’ is yet another term referring to the act of insulting by way of blame poetry. A possible parallel is Latin iocus, if derived from iaciō / iacere ‘throw’.
one of Watkin’s three passages where menos is used as a functional equivalent of mēnis
The omen of the serpent in Iliad 2 is comparable to the omen of the serpent in Virgil Aeneid 2.199–227.
Here in the Iliad, the telos or ‘fulfillment’ of the plot is being realized only in the form of a prophecy—by contrast with the epic Cycle, where the conquest of Troy is the ultimate telos. On the epic Cycle, see the inventory of Words and Ideas. There are comparable themes in Virgil Aeneid 8.615-629, 729-731, featuring the Shield of Aeneas.
The omen of the serpent that devours the nine birds is a sēma ‘sign, signal’ that calls for interpretation. This interpretation is needed, in terms of the poetry itself, for understanding the plot of the Iliad.
The serpent, once it is petrified, is arizēlon / aridēlon ‘most visible’; according to an alternative version, the serpent does not get petrified but rather is made suddenly aïzēlon ‘invisible’.
The reading aïdēlon ‘invisible’ at I.02.318, adduced by Aristarchus, is incompatible with this verse, I.02.319, which is accordingly athetized by him. On athetesis, see the inventory of Words and Ideas.
comparison of the petrified serpent with Aeneas’ Shield, as prophecies of the story of Troy and the story of Rome, respectively
The expression kleos oupot’ oleitai ‘its glory [kleos] will never perish’ (κλέος οὔποτ’ ὀλεῖται), as here at I.02.325, is parallel with kleos aphthiton estai (κλέος ἄφθιτον ἔσται) at I.09.413, which can be translated ‘the glory [kleos] will be imperishable [aphthiton]’. This parallelism shows that aphthito- at I.09.413 and elsewhere was understood to be not just long-lasting, as some have thought, but eternal. As for the interpretation ‘the glory [kleos] will be imperishable [aphthiton]’, we will see in the comment on I.09.413 that an alternative interpretation is also possible: ‘and there will be a glory [kleos] that is imperishable’.
The petrified serpent is equated with the story of Troy, and the word teleîn ‘reach an outcome’ here conveys the inevitable outcome of that story. The prophecy expressed by teleîn reveals a poetics of unchangeability in narrating the story. And the concretization of such unchangeability is visualized as the petrifaction of the serpent. The imperfective aspect of the verb teleîn ‘reach an outcome’ here is referring to the story of Troy as it is still being told, as it is still in progress.
The expression mōlos Arēos ‘struggle of Ares’ refers to a war-dance. It is as if the violence of warfare were primarily a war-dance. To be compared is the Arcadian festive event of the Mōleia, which is a ritualized dramatization of martial biē ‘force, violence, strength’.
Epitome from Nagy 2015§85. Here at I.02.402–429, when Agamemnon sacrifices an ox to Zeus, I.02.402–403, 422, he makes a wish-in-prayer, as expressed by the verb eukhesthai, I.02.411, that he will conquer the city of Troy, I.02.414–415, and kill Hector together with as many other enemies as possible, I.02.416–418—all within the space of one single day, I.02.413. But Zeus refuses to bring this prayer to fulfillment, I.02.419—even though the god accepts the offering of the sacrifice, I.02.420, and even though Agamemnon and his guests go ahead and cook the meat after killing the ox, dividing the beef among themselves and then feasting on it together, I.02.421–429. Although the narrative leaves it open whether, one fine day, Agamemnon will still succeed in his wish to conquer the city, I.02.419, it is made clear that the present wish-in-prayer, as performed by the hero on the occasion of this particular sacrifice, is a failure, I.02.419. To paraphrase in Latin terms: the vōtum as a ‘wish-in-prayer’ is not granted here.
Epitome from Nagy 2015§§103:
Menelaos seems to be idiosyncratic in his arrivals at sacrifices. A striking example is the passage here at I.02.402–429 where Agamemnon sacrifices an ox to Zeus, I.02.402–403, 422, and makes a wish-in-prayer, as expressed by the verb eukhesthai, I.02.411, that he will conquer the city of Troy, I.02.414–415, and kill Hector together with as many other enemies as possible, I.02.416–418. To attend this sacrifice as well as the feast that follows the sacrifice, Agamemnon invites six heroes, I.02.404–407. But the hero Menelaos is not included in this group of six. Nevertheless, Menelaos does manage to attend, arriving as the seventh hero, without having been invited to the sacrifice, I.02.408–409: rather, he comes automatos, which is conventionally interpreted to mean ‘of his own accord’, or, to put it into popular idiom, ‘automatically’, I.02.408. But the reason that is given here to explain why Menelaos comes automatos is uncanny: it is because, the narrative says, Menelaos can read the mind of his brother, I.02.408–409.
Epitome from Nagy 2015 §104:
Point 1. The ability of Menelaos to read the mind of Agamemnon indicates a special meaning for the adjective automatos here. On the one hand, if Menelaos comes to the feast ‘on his own’, then we can expect his mind to be ‘operating by itself’—which is the meaning built into automatos as a compounding of the element auto- ‘self’ with the element ma-t-, derived from the root men-*/mn- meaning ‘mind’. So, Menelaos has a mind of his own. On the other hand, something unexpected is going on here: this mind of Menelaos, exceptionally, can read the mind of the brother, and so automatos in this context means not only ‘having a mind of his own’ but also ‘having the same mind’ as the brother has. In terms of this interpretation, Agamemnon and Menelaos have the same mind because they share their own selves with each other. We can find mythological patterns of twin-like behavior in Homeric descriptions of Agamemnon and Menelaos, and these patterns affect even their thinking. See Frame 2009:177, with a further reference at pp. 72–73 n. 156. More from Frame pp. 209–215: Also, Menelaos in the Iliad* consistently fails to take the initiative whenever he undertakes an activity together with his brother. In such situations, Menelaos is recessive in his twinned thinking, while Agamemnon is dominant.
Point 2. There is an allusion in Plato Symposium 174b-d to the wording here in I.02.408. And, on the basis of Athenaeus 1.8a, we can reconstruct a relevant proverb, to which Plato’s text is also alluding. This proverb can be reconstructed as αὐτόματοι δ’ ἀγαθοὶ ἀγαθῶν ἐπὶ δαῖτας ἴασι ‘automatically do the noble go to the feasts of the noble’. In such a context, I add, not only does each noble person have ‘a mind of his own’: that mind is also the ‘same’ mind that the other noble persons have. The point is, ‘like-minded’ or ‘same-minded’ people congregate with each other automatically at dinners.
Menelaos in his thūmos ‘heart, mind’ knows what Agamemnon is feeling.
reference to report of Demetrius’ negative judgment of ethos reflected in this line in Athenaeus 5.4 Kaibel (177ef)
lemmatizing: ἔσπετε νῦν μοι Μοῦσαι Ὀλύμπια δώματ' ἔχουσαι
In this verse, which can be translated ‘tell me now, you Muses who have your dwellings on Mount Olympus’, we see a rhyming of … Mousai, situated before the primary mid-verse word-break, with … ekhousai, situated before the verse-final word-break. Such rhyming is rare and archaizing. (On archaic patterns of rhyming in early Greek poetry, see Nagy 1974:99–101.) On the poetics of re-invocation here, there will be more to say in the comments on I.02.761, Ι.11.218, I.14.508, I.16.112. For now, it suffices to observe that the re-invocation of the Muses here at I.02.484 pictures these goddesses in the plural, by contrast with the singular Muse who had been initially invoked at I.01.001. There will be another invocation of the singular Muse at I.02.761, to be followed by invocations of plural Muses at Ι.11.218, I.14.508, and I.16.112. In the case of each invocation, there is a heightened level of poetic self-awareness about the importance of what is about to be narrated. Here at I.02.484, for example, the Master Narrator shows his concern about the need for accuracy in re-creating a comprehensive catalogue of essentially all the cultural ancestors of the Greek-speaking world. On other occasions of re-invocation, there will be comparable poetic concerns, as we will see in comments still to come.
The immediacy of the Master Narrator’s performance here is counterbalanced by an attitude of remoteness from the composition. Such a counterbalance indicates the Narrator’s deference to the epic tradition of Homeric poetry. The Narrator does not claim that he knows the tradition: instead, he says he just ‘hears’ it from the Muses, goddesses of poetic inspiration, and this act of ‘hearing’ is kleos, I.02.486, derived from the verb kluein ‘hear’. The literal meaning of kleos as ‘the thing heard’ has an enormous prestige that translates into the idealized meaning of ‘glory, fame’ as applied to the composition and performance of Homeric poetry. The Narrator of Homeric poetry is proud of his capacity to ‘hear’. To hear what? To hear ‘the thing heard’, which is kleos. This capacity translates into ‘glory, fame’ not only for Homeric poetry but also for the poet who performs the poetry. Such a poet claims access to both the form and the content of what he ‘hears’ the Muses tell him.
The ‘I’ of Homer is interchangeable with ‘we’. The ellipsis of successive ‘I’-s in this ‘we’ indicates a vertical succession of performers.
|488 πληθὺν δ’ οὐκ ἂν ἐγὼ μυθήσομαι οὐδ’ ὀνομήνω, |489 οὐδ’ εἴ μοι δέκα μὲν γλῶσσαι, δέκα δὲ στόματ’ εἶεν, |490 φωνὴ δ’ ἄρρηκτος, χάλκεον δέ μοι ἦτορ ἐνείη, |491 εἰ μὴ Ὀλυμπιάδες Μοῦσαι Διὸς αἰγιόχοιο |492 θυγατέρες μνησαίαθ’ ὅσοι ὑπὸ Ἴλιον ἦλθον· |493 ἀρχοὺς αὖ νηῶν ἐρέω νῆάς τε προπάσας.
|488 But the number [of Achaeans] I could not tell nor name |489 (not even if I had ten tongues and ten mouths |490 and a voice that was unbreaking, and if a heart of bronze were within me) |491 if the Muses of Olympus, of Zeus the aegis-bearer |492 the daughters, did not mentally connect [mimnēskein] me, (about) how many came to Troy. |493 But now I will say the leaders [arkhoi] of the ships, and all the ships.
The performer here is re-experiencing the here-and-now of his own performance. See further the comment at I.02.492.
What the Muses do is ‘put the mind in touch’: the translation of mnē- as ‘mentally connect’ is more accurate than ‘remind’, since the idea of ‘reminding’ in a language like English restricts the idea of mental contact to the past. But the idea ‘mentally connect’ as conveyed by the word mnē- is broader. This Greek word refers to mental contact not only with the past but also with the present and even with the future. The Muses have the power to put the mind in touch with times and places other than one’s own.
We see here a transition from the prooimion ‘proemium, prelude’ that introduces the Catalogue of Ships to the actual narration of the Catalogue. The transition is formalized by way of picking up a basic idea from the prooimion. This idea, signaled by the word hēgemones ‘leaders’ at I.02.487 in the prooimion, is now picked up by the word arkhoi ‘leaders’ here in the first verse of the actual narration, I.02.493. For the etymology of prooimion ‘proemium, prelude’, see the comment on O.08.074.
Here is the first Iliadic occurrence of the epithet ozos Arēos, which can be translated generally as ‘attendant of Ares’. The application of this epithet to a hero indicates that such a hero, as a warrior, is destined to become a ritual substitute for the war-god Ares. See the anchor comment at I.12.188.
The name of the goddess Athena and the name of the citadel of Athens were originally the same, as we see from O.07.078–081.
|546 Οἳ δ' ἄρ’ Ἀθήνας εἶχον ἐϋκτίμενον πτολίεθρον |547 δῆμον Ἐρεχθῆος μεγαλήτορος, ὅν ποτ’ Ἀθήνη |548 θρέψε Διὸς θυγάτηρ, τέκε δὲ ζείδωρος ἄρουρα, |549 κὰδ δ’ ἐν Ἀθήνῃς εἷσεν ἑῷ ἐν πίονι νηῷ· |550 ἔνθα δέ μιν ταύροισι καὶ ἀρνειοῖς ἱλάονται |551 κοῦροι Ἀθηναίων περιτελλομένων ἐνιαυτῶν· |552 τῶν αὖθ’ ἡγεμόνευ’ υἱὸς Πετεῶο Μενεσθεύς.
|546 And there were those who held Athens [Athênai], well-founded city |547 which was the district [dēmos of Erekhtheus], the one with the mighty heart, whom once upon a time Athena [Athḗnē] |548 nourished, daughter of Zeus, but the grain-giving earth gave birth to him. |549 And she [= Athena] established him in Athens [Athênai], in her own rich temple. |550 There he is supplicated, with sacrifices of bulls and rams, |551 by the young men of Athens, each time the seasonal moment comes round. |552 And their [= the Athenians’] leader was Menestheus, son of Peteoos.
Pictured here is the installation of the hero Erekhtheus within the sacred precinct of the goddess Athena in Athens.
Although Erekhtheus here is born of the goddess Gaia as ‘Mother Earth’, he is nursed by the goddess Athena. This division of labor between Gaia and Athena is signaled by the verb trephein ‘nourish, nurse’, revealing a pattern of differentiation between older and newer concepts of a mother goddess. In terms of an older concept, an autochthonous hero would be both born of and nursed by a mother goddess, visualized primarily as the Earth. We may compare the wording in Plato Menexenus 237b on Mother Gaia, ‘the one who gave birth, nourished [trephein], and accepted [them] into her care’ (τῆς τεκούσης καὶ θρεψάσης καὶ ὑποδεξαμένης), with reference to the Athenians as her autochthonous children. See HTL 161, with bibliography.
For the first time in the Iliad, we see here the epithet Dios thugatēr (/ thugatēr Dios) ‘daughter of Zeus’, applied in this case to the goddess Athena. This epithet is also applied to other goddesses, most notably to Aphrodite. See the anchor comment at I.03.374.
The word homoios ‘similar to, same as, used in comparisons, is essential for understanding the semantics of relativism as well as absolutism in Homeric diction. See the anchor comment at I.05.441.
Tradition has it that the Athenian statesman Solon once cited these verses in the context of a territorial dispute between the city-states of Athens and Megara. Such a tradition shows that myths were used as juridical evidence. Especially useful were myths mediated by prestigious forms of poetry like the Homeric Iliad. In earlier phases of Homeric poetry when this medium could still be described as a living oral tradition, any verses that would commonly be recognized as part of this poetry could thereby become acceptable as a form of proof in arguing a territorial claim. In later phases of Homeric poetry, however, when it was no longer a living oral tradition, antiquarians were prone to interpret verses once cited in territorial disputes as interpolations promoted by those whose political interests were served by tampering with the textual transmission of Homeric poetry.
The narrative as presented here is significantly different from the corresponding narrative as presented in Hesiod F 204.44–51.
The Iliadic entitlement of Achilles as the ‘best of the Achaeans’ is confronted here with a rival theme: Agamemnon too claims the title.
This verse expands on the rivalry of Achilles and Agamemnon for the title of ‘best of the Achaeans’.
This negative encounter between Thamyris and the Muses in the Iliad is to be contrasted with the positive encounter between Homer and the Delian Maidens in the Homeric Hymn to Apollo.
The ships of Odysseus here are described by way of the epithet milto-parēioi ‘with cheeks of red’; at O.09.125, the same epithet describes generic ships. To be contrasted is another epithet for ships, phoinīko-parēioi ‘with cheeks of purple’, applied to generic ships at O.11.124 and O.23.271. Inventories of chariots in the Linear B tablets of Knossos show a parallel dichotomy of red and purple in descriptions of colors painted on chariots: the noun i-qi-ja ‘chariot’ is described as either mi-to-we-sa = miltówessa ‘red’ as in Knossos tablet Sd 4407 or po-ni-ki-ja = phoinikíā ‘purple’ as in Knossos tablet Sd 4402.
We see here the earliest attestation of a reference to ktisis-poetry, which is a special form of poetry centering on the colonization of daughter-cities by mother-cities.
The division of the island of Rhodes into three cities is comparable to the division of any given Dorian city into three phūlai ‘subdivisions’.
The name of Hēraklēs is linked with the epic theme of biē in the sense of martial ‘force, violence, strength’; even the name of Hēraklēs can be formulated periphrastically as ‘the force of Hēraklēs’.
See anchor comment at I.12.188.
See the comment on I.02.658.
The tripartition of the whole island of Rhodes kata-phūladon ‘by way of subdivision’ is comparable to the traditional tripartition of many Dorian cities into three phūlai ‘subdivisions’. In Dorian societies comprised of three phūlai, kings are conventionally chosen from the second phūlē. Similarly in Indic traditions, kings are conventionally chosen from the second varṇa- or ‘subdivision’ of society.
The first part of this micro-narrative, I.02.681–685, highlights various territories unified here under the leadership of Achilles, who sails in fifty ships with warriors originating from these territories, I.02.685. Relevant names of special interest here are: ‘Pelasgian’ Argos at I.02.681, Phthīē and Hellás at I.02.683, Myrmidónes and Héllēnes and Akhaioí at I.02.684. The second part of this micro-narrative, I.02.686–694, highlights the fact that the warriors who sailed on the fifty ships and were led by Achilles have lost their leader, since Achilles is now refusing to participate in the Trojan War. And a sub-part of this micro-narrative, I.02.689–694, retells the story about the anger of Achilles over the seizing of Briseis by Agamemnon.
These verses at I.02.689–694 focus on Briseis, war-prize of Achilles. An aristocratic woman, she was taken captive by Achilles when he conquered the city of Lyrnessos and killed her husband Mynes, who was defending that city, I.02.690–691. The story about the conquest of Lyrnessos by Achilles and about his capturing of Briseis stemmed from poetic traditions that were distinctly Aeolian in origin. And this Aeolian origin has to do with a most basic fact about the principal hero of the Iliad: Achilles himself was an Aeolian, and he originated from a poetic tradition that was Aeolian. Achilles was an Aeolian not only in the limited sense that he was born and raised in Aeolian Thessaly, to the west of the Aegean Sea: much more than that, the poetic traditions about this hero’s conquests of territories to the east of the Aegean, across the sea from Thessaly, shaped his identity as a prime hero not only for the Thessalians in the European mainland but also for all Aeolians, including the Aeolic-speaking populations that inhabited the coastal mainland of northern Asia Minor and the outlying islands of Lesbos and Tenedos. As we will see in the course of further analysis, it was the myths about the conquests of Achilles in the East, including the regions of Troy and beyond, that shaped the ultimately Aeolian identity of the Aeolic-speaking populations that inhabited those eastern regions—which as I noted in the anchor comment at I.01.463 included the islands of Lesbos and Tenedos as well as the coastal mainland of most of northern Asia Minor. The conquests of Achilles in that whole area can be interpreted as a charter myth that aetiologized a prehistoric or even non-historical “colonization” by Aeolians from Thessaly. (See Nagy 2011b:171–173.) It is in this light that we may view the hero’s conquest of Lyrnessos, which was a city located in the region of Troy, south of Mount Ida. For more details about the location of Lyrnessos, see the comment on I.20.089–102. The conquest of Lyrnessos by Achilles was part of the myths conveyed by Aeolian poetic traditions, and that is how the captive woman Briseis becomes part of that tradition. In other words, Briseis is figured as an Aeolian because she is appropriated by the Aeolian poetic tradition. Likewise, as we see at I.02.691 here, Achilles conquered not only the city of Lyrnessos but also the city of Thēbē. This parallelism of Lyrnessos and Thēbē is most significant, as we will now see. Thēbē was originally not an Aeolian city, and the non-Aeolian identity of Thēbē is accentuated by way of a detail: as we read at I.06.397 and at I.06.415, the inhabitants of Thēbē before its destruction by Achilles had been non-Greek Kilikes ‘Cilicians’. And there is a striking parallelism here between Thēbē and Lyrnessos: the same non-Greek population had reportedly inhabited Lyrnessos as well. We read in Strabo 13.1.7 C586 that the region of the Kilikes was evenly divided between the cities of Thēbē and Lyrnessos. Nevertheless, as in the case of Lyrnessos, the poetic tradition about the conquest of Thēbē by Achilles was Aeolian. And when Achilles conquered the city of Thēbē, as we see at I.01.366–369, he captured there an aristocratic woman named Chryseis. So, as in the case of Briseis, Chryseis too becomes an Aeolian by virtue of being apppropriated by the Aeolian poetic tradition about the conquests of the Aeolian hero Achilles. In the case of Chryseis, she was allotted by the Achaeans to Agamemnon as his very own war-prize, Ι.01.369, while Briseis had been allotted to Achilles, Ι.01.392. (For background on the Aeolian poetic traditions about Briseis and Chryseis, I strongly recommend the work of Dué 2002 and 2006, listed in the Bibliography.) And now we come to a third aristocratic woman who is likewise identified by way of parallel Aeolian connections: she is Andromache, wife of Hector. Just as Achilles captured the women Chryseis and Briseis when he conquered the cities of Thēbē and Lyrnessos respectively, so too Achilles would have captured Andromache at the same time—if she had not been already married off to Hector, who had brought her as his bride to Troy before the Achaeans ever even arrived at Troy. Andromache originated from the city of Thēbē, as we see at I.06.394–396, and we have already seen at I.01.366–369 that Thēbē was the place where Achilles captured Chryseis when he conquered that city. The father of Andromache, Eëtion, was the king of the Kilikes who had inhabited the city of Thēbē, I.06.395–398, and he was killed by Achilles when that hero conquered this city, I.06.416–420. There is an important parallel noted by Strabo 13.1.7 C586 (also 13.1.61 C611–612): the husband of Briseis, Mynes, was evidently the king of the other Kilikes who had inhabited the city of Lyrnessos; Strabo draws attention to this parallelism in the context of citing I.02.691 and I.19.295, both of which verses refer to the time when Achilles conquered Lyrnessos and killed Mynes. In sum, all three of the women who are highlighted in these Iliadic contexts—Chryseis, Briseis, and Andromache—were appropriated by the Aeolian poetic traditions about the conquests of Achilles the Aeolian. And such Aeolian poetic traditions of songmaking are directly attested in Song 44 of Sappho about the wedding of Hector and Andromache. The songs attributed to Sappho as also to Alcaeus, both of whom are dated around 600 BCE, originate from the Aeolian island of Lesbos. There will be more to say about these traditions in the anchor comment at I.09.128–131 / 270–272 on: Aeolian women in the Iliad, part 2. See also anchor comment at I.09.128–131 and at I.09.270–272 on: Aeolian women in the Iliad, part 2; and anchor comment at I.11.624–627 on: Aeolian women in the Iliad, part 3.
The Iliad refers to a variety of epic deeds performed by Achilles, and the relative chronology of these deeds is in many cases situated before or after the time-frame of the Iliad as we know it. One category of deeds stands out: before he joins the other Achaean leaders at Troy, Achilles conquers various places that are culturally identifiable as Aeolian as a result of his conquest, and, in each case, he captures aristocratic women who are likewise Aeolian—but only as a result of their being captured by Achilles the Aeolian. For a definition of ‘Aeolian’, see the anchor comment at I.01.463. The significance of the Aeolian identification of Achilles—and, by extension, of the women he captured—is analyzed in the anchor comment that immediately follows, at I.02.689–694; also at I.09.128–131 / I.09.270–272 and at I.11.624–627.
This micro-narrative tells how Protesilaos, who was the first Achaean to die in the Trojan War, was sorely missed by his people back home in his native land of Thessaly. At I.02.703 and I.02.709, it is said that the natives of this land ‘feel a longing’ for the hero after his death at Troy, and this ‘longing’ is expressed by way of the verb potheîn ‘long for, desire’. The wording here, it can be argued, shows an indirect reference to the worship of Protesilaos as a cult hero.
See anchor comment at I.12.188.
See anchor comment at I.12.188.
The Master Narrator addresses here a singular Muse: see the comment on I.02.761. The Muse is asked for an answer to the Iliadic question: who is the ‘best of the Achaeans’? The answer of the Muse is that Achilles is the best—and that Ajax is the second-best within the framework of the Iliad. The formulation of the Muse’s answer is an exquisite exercise in ring-composition.
Unlike what we see at I.02.484, Ι.11.218, I.14.508, I.16.112, where the Muses are invoked as plural goddesses, the Muse here at I.02.761 is invoked as a singular goddess. And the Muse is of course singular also at the beginning of the Iliad, I.01.001, and at the beginning of the Odyssey, O.01.001. There are also two other cases where a singular Muse is invoked:
A) In the First Song of Demodokos, O.08.73–82, which is featured as a proto-Iliad (see the comment at O.08.073-082), a singular Muse inspires the singer of tales at the beginning of his performance, at O.08.073. I think that the self-awareness at I.02.761 in invoking a singular Muse has to do with the singularity of the subject at I.02.760–770, since the subject in this case is Achilles. The Muse is asked for an answer to the Iliadic question: who is the ‘best of the Achaeans’? The answer of the Muse is that Achilles is the best. He is the singularity of the Iliad as epic, just as Odysseus is the singularity of the Odyssey as epic. That is why, I propose, the singular Muse here is the goddess Calliope. She is the perfect singularity of a Muse for these notionally singular heroes of two singularly important epics. After all, Calliope is the Muse of Epic. I refer here to my relevant arguments in Homer the Preclassic E[pilegomena] §109 (p. 345) about Calliope as the Muse of kings (Hesiod Theogony 79–93). Similarly, as I argue there, Orpheus was once the singular poet of kings, but his status was degraded in the Athenian phase of Homeric reception.
B) In the Third Song of Demodokos, O.08.499–533, when the singer of tales marks the beginning of his performance at O.08.499, the anonymous ‘divinity’ that he invokes at that point is a theos, in the singular. Short-term, this theos ‘divinity’ can be understood to be either Apollo or ‘the Muse’, as the disguised Odysseus himself remarks at O.08.488. Long-term, however, Apollo and the Muses are surrogates here for Zeus himself, who at O.13.025 is finally identified as the transcendent source of inspiration for the singing of Demodokos. The figuring of Zeus as such a transcendent source was traditionally considered to be a signature, as it were, of ‘Homer’ himself, as we read in the reference at Pindar Nemean 2.1–3 to the Homēridai, a guild of singers from Chios who claimed, as ‘descendants of Homer’, to be the legitimate transmitters of ‘Homer’ as their poetic ancestor. An example of such a reference is the wording at the very beginning of Pindar Nemean 2.1–3: ὅθεν περ καὶ Ὁμηρίδαι | ῥαπτῶν ἐπέων τὰ πόλλ᾿ ἀοιδοί | ἄρχονται, Διὸς ἐκ προοιμίου ‘(starting) from the point where [hothen] the Homēridai, singers, most of the time [ta polla] begin [arkhesthai] their stitched-together words, from the prelude [prooimion] of Zeus …’.
Unlike what we see at I.02.484 above, where the Muses are invoked as plural goddesses, the Muse here at I.02.761 is invoked as a singular goddess, as already at I.01.001. See the anchor comment below.
an example where ‘Homeric’ usage is clearly distinct from what is sunēthēs ‘customary’ for Aristarchus and his contemporaries [MRBTP: scholia]
The word kolōnē ‘tumulus’ here at I.02.811 refers to the place where, as we read further at I.02.814, the sēma ‘tomb’ of an otherworldly female named Murinē is located; she is pictured here as polu-skarthmos ‘taking many leaps and bounds’. We may compare the word kolōnē ‘tumulus’ here to the word kolōnos ‘tumulus’ referring to the tomb of Protesilaos in Philostratus On heroes 9.1, where this same tomb is also called a sēma at 9.3, and to the tomb of Achilles in On heroes 51.12, where that same tomb is also called a sēma at 53.11 (also at 51.2, 52.3). The naming of the location known as ‘the sēma of Murinē who takes many leaps and bounds’ is said at I.02.814 to originate from the language of the immortal gods, whereas the same location is said at I.02.813 to be called Batieia in the language of mortal men. On Murine as both cult hero and Amazon, see Nagy 2017.10.18, with reference to Pausanias 1.2.1. On the picturing of an Amazon in the act of leaping, see Nagy 2018.01.12, with reference to Pausanias 1.17.2.
There is a wide variety of myths about anthropogony. According to one version, the first human was the first mantis ‘seer’. According to another version, the first human was generated from a tree. And such versions may overlap with one another.
See anchor comment at I.12.188.
In Homeric poetry, both in the Iliad and Odyssey, there is a pattern of avoidance in making overt references to the twelve confederated states known as the Ionian Dodecapolis. In Herodotus 1.142.3, the locations of these states are listed as follows: Miletus, Myous, Priene, Ephesus, Colophon, Lebedos, Teos, Klazomenai, Phocaea, the island-states of Samos and of Chios, and, lastly, Erythrai. (See under Ionian Dodecapolis in the inventory of Words and Ideas.) Even in the two exceptional cases where Homeric poetry refers to any of these locations, what gets highlighted is merely the place, not the status of that place as a city-state or, when it comes to Chios and Samos, as an island-state. In one of these two exceptional cases, the mention of Chios at Ο.03.170 and at O.03.172 refers not to the famous island-state that Chios eventually became but simply to the island. In the other case, which we have here at I.02.868, the mention of Miletus refers not to the spectacularly famous polis or ‘city-state’ that Miletus eventually became but simply to the city—and this city is supposedly not even Greek as of yet. It is as if the Ionians had not yet settled Miletus: instead, Miletus at the time of the Trojan War is supposedly inhabited only by Carians, who do not even speak Greek: at I.02.867, these Carians who inhabit Miletus are described as barbaro-phōnoi ‘speakers of a barbarous language’.
argument for the contextual unity of eukhesthai einai + comparative/superlative expressions regarding superiority in age on the one hand and prestige, physical prowess and physical beauty on the other (secular contexts)
in a list of examples of eukhesthai einai + comparative/superlative (secular contexts)
evidence for counting in arithmetic systems that lack a zero as indistinguishable from grouping
example of handing on of the scepter in the context of discussing Achilles’ hurling it to the ground after his oath in I.01
analysis of Agamemnon’s skēptron and gold as symbol for the artificial continuum of immortality (aphthito-) and the relevance of this for Achilles’ oath
analysis of philotēs and timē going together, and here, Odysseus’ misapprehension regarding the object of Zeus’ timē, corrected by Agamemnon’s acknowledgement in I.09.116-118
in a list of instances where phanai substitutes for eukhesthai where it is combined with comparative/superlative
among examples of formal divergence between phrases which are functionally parallel but occur in spoken dialogue as against narrative (transformations of (A) paralleled in a secular series, of which this verse is an example)
analysis of the attestations of eukhesthai + aorist infinitive (and the series to which I.02.401 belongs) [MRBTP: 'f']
analysis of the versatility of poetic technique to report prayers (invocation, grant of favor, request of favor) [MRBTP: 'f']
in a list of passages with eukhesthai + infinitive (aorist) [MRBTP: 'f']
comparison with I.19.100, a non-formulaic attestation of eukhesthai introducing speech (formal parallelism between a sacral (I.02.410) and secular (I.19.100) eukhesthai formulas)
comparison with I.19.100, a non-formulaic attestation of eukhesthai introducing speech (formal parallelism between a sacral (I.02.410) and secular (I.19.100) eukhesthai formulas)
in a list of examples of directly quoted prayers not concluded by formula (A)
in a list of examples of absolute usage of eukhesthai to report prayers (ritual narrative formulas)
analysis of the variant prologue to the Iliad connecting the mēnis of Achilles and of Apollo and its identical line to I.02.484
Homeric epic referring to itself as kleos, like Pindar’s medium
analysis of en-poiein not as ‘interpolate’ but as make poetry fit inside poetry that has already been made and as integral to the making of Homeric poetry
comment on interpreting eō en pioni nēō as “in his own rich temple” (i.e. Erechtheus’ as opposed to Athena’s)
comment on interpreting eō en pioni nēō as “in his own rich temple” (i.e. Erechtheus’ as opposed to Athena’s)
analysis of the application of ilaos (and cognates) to gods (and heroes) with mēnis, here to Erechtheus and Achilles in the Iliad
analysis of the application of ilaos (and cognates) to gods (and heroes) with mēnis, here to Erechtheus and Achilles in the Iliad
comparison of this passage on sacrifices to Erechtheus with Hymn to Demeter 259-267 (cult of Demophoon)
alleged interpolations in the Catalogue of the Ships in antiquity and the Megarians alternative version with no mention of Athens
alleged interpolations in the Catalogue of Ships in antiquity
alleged interpolations in the Catalogue of Ships in antiquity
in a list of usages contextually parallel to the death-eukhesthai usage
in a list of secular eukhesthai reporting speech (absolute usage)
The formula πάντες ὁμηγερέες, ἠμὲν νέοι ἠδὲ γέροντες used to describe the gathered assembly of Trojans as composed of “both young men and old men” (ἠμὲν νέοι ἠδὲ γέροντες) has the underlying meaning of “all men of a certain group who count.” This meaning can be discerned by comparing the other contexts in which it is used. In Iliad 9 Diomedes uses this formula to say that both the young men and old men of the Argives (that is, all men of the Argives who count) know how Agamemnon spoke to Diomedes earlier (ταῦτα δὲ πάντα / ἴσασ’ Ἀργείων ἠμὲν νέοι ἠδὲ γέροντες, Iliad 9.35–36). Odysseus reminds Achilles that his father Peleus advised him to avoid strife so that both the young men and the old men of the Argives (that is, all the men of the Argives who count) would honor him (ληγέμεναι δ’ ἔριδος κακομηχάνου, ὄφρά σε μᾶλλον τίωσ’ Ἀργείων ἠμὲν νέοι ἠδὲ γέροντες, Iliad 9.257–258). These uses found in our Iliad are always in the same metrical position. By contrast, a formula found in the Odyssey describing “young men and old,” νέοι ἠδὲ παλαιοί, seems instead to emphasize the large number of men involved (Odyssey 1.395 and Odyssey 8.58), not the “completeness” or social importance of the set.
When Odysseus addresses the kings and leaders in the testing scene of Book 2, he uses "mild words (epeessin)" to hold them back (2.188-89): Odysseus speaks to his social equals and uses epea. With the common soldiers he uses a muthos instead (2.198-201) (Martin 1993:23).
With the common soldiers Odysseus uses a different register: "Whatever man of the people he saw or found shouting he would drive on with the scepter and berate with a muthos: 'Strange one, sit still and listen to the muthos of others who are stronger, while you are unwarlike and strengthless'" (2.198-201). When the lines of power are clearly drawn, the speaker who uses a muthos prevails (Martin 1993:23).
The description of Thersites (a foil for Odysseus) concentrates on his inability to organize the discrete small units of his talk, the epea: "he who knew many disordered epea in his mind, rashly, not according to good order" (2.212-14). Muthoi are the large units, epea the small (Martin 1993:17).
Odysseus' speech to the Achaeans in Book 2, recalling the divine sign at Aulis, is introduced by Athena herself restraining the audience so that he may speak the elaborate muthos at 2.284-332 (Martin 1993:63-64). One could score the speech by noting the shifts in genres of muthos within it: Odysseus begins with flyting, comparing the troops to children or women anxious to get home; memory takes over, noting it is the tenth year at Troy; a command intrudes ("Bear up, friends," 2.299-300); and this triggers a long rendition of an earlier prophecy by Kalkhas at Aulis, when the sign of the snake who ate the swallows appeared (Martin 1993:81).
Precise details—the altar and the springs near it, the snake's color, the number of birds and their cries—are remembered in the service of dramatic rhetoric intended to convince the Achaeans of the authenticity of the event, but also to raise the status of the one who remembers it. For Odysseus, in recalling the words of Kalkhas, exhibits a seerlike ability to describe and interpret what is not present. Memory bestows a mantle on its practitioners (Martin 1993:81-82).
The crucial difference between this type of performance and that of Nestor in his long narrative in Book 2 (656-803) has to do with the self-presentation of the speaker. Odysseus foregrounds himself as performer, explicitly quoting another authority—Kalkhas—whom he then can be seen to overcome in the contest of speaking: Kalkhas, as we saw in Book 1, does not even cite his own previous acts, whereas Odysseus remembers all, apparently. Nestor, on the other hand, presents himself not as a speaker but as a heroic performer of both words and deeds. His narrative of personal experience is convincing because it calls for emulation, even challenge (Martin 1993:82).
Martin, R. P. 1993. The Language of Heroes: Speech and Performance in the Iliad. Ithaca.
Nestor's commands stand out from those of other heroes in the flow of the narrative: five of his six muthoi of command occur between Books 9 and 11, the poem's core, and all mark significant junctures. His first such speech in the poem stands out, though brief, because Agamemnon grants Nestor instant obedience (2.434-41). Nestor's explicit motivation for telling Agamemnon to advance the troops is that "a god grants" the present work (2.436). An audience should recall that the "god" is Zeus, whose messenger Dream had taken the form of Nestor in appearing to Agamemnon (2.21). Nestor is thus both the distant and immediate catalyst for the assault, and his muthos (2.433) depends on the muthos of Zeus (2.16) (Martin 1993:59-60).
For the broader analysis of Nestor as the ideal speaker in the memory genre, see the comment on Iliad 1.259-274.
Martin, R. P. 1993. The Language of Heroes: Speech and Performance in the Iliad. Ithaca.
The first critical term to examine in the analysis of Thersites' speech is the insult Odysseus throws at him: akritomuthos (2.246). The admiring description of Menelaos' style, ou polumuthos (3.214), was correlated with a style that did not miss the mark by tossing words about aimlessly: oud' apharmatoepēs (3.215). When Thersites appears for the first time, the poet draws attention to qualities in his speech that directly oppose the good style of Menelaos: he speaks a great deal and he does not put his words in good order (epea . . . akosma . . . polla, 2.213). The implication that Thersites misses the mark of proportionate speech comes in Homer's observation that the blamer says whatever he thinks will get a laugh (2.215). In other words, he is just an entertainer, not a "performer" in the heroic sense (Martin 1993:109-10).
Thersites' style deserves no respect because he does not have the heroic martial performance record needed to back up his words: style for the hero is a total notion, a proportion of words and deeds. Because Thersites does not have a valid poetic memory for his own career, the audience of Achaean heroes and epic hearers cannot perform the critical judgment necessary to validate his muthos. It remains "indeterminate" or "undiscriminated." The verbal idea contained in the first part of the compound adjective akritomuthos is one of careful selection, what a commander must exercise to pick out the best troops (2.362, krin'), the opposite of massing things together—in a word, critical ability. The term, then, underscores a performance value: the capacity to judge one's own acts and be judged for them (Martin 1993:110-11).
In the other passage where muthoi are called "undiscriminated," the lack of connection between verbal behavior and martial performance is prominently foregrounded. Iris rebukes Priam (2.796-97): "Old man, to you unjudged words are always dear as once during peace. But war inescapable has arisen." "Unjudged muthoi" is a contradiction in terms; such words would be a masquerade of martial speech in the context of peace. Real muthoi require action (Martin 1993:110-11).
The evidence of meter reinforces the stylistic analysis. When Thersites' speech (2.225-42) is performed aloud, it contains massive correption—the reduction of long vowels and diphthongs from their usual metrical value as "heavy" syllables to "light," short values. A count of correptions per number of lines shows that Thersites' eighteen verses contain this feature ten times, a rate of 55 percent. By contrast, Nestor's correption rate in the speech of 1.254-84 is 30 percent (nine times in thirty lines). The average rate of correption for narrative verses in the poem is 20 percent; for speeches it is 40 percent. Nestor, "of sweet speech," sounds like Homer as we first hear him; Thersites is quite literally "without meter" in his performance, markedly more so than the average hero (Martin 1993:112-13).
Martin, R. P. 1993. The Language of Heroes: Speech and Performance in the Iliad. Ithaca.
Odysseus' description in Book 2 of the divine sign at Aulis (2.308-29) provides one of the most important parallels for Achilles' bird simile in Book 9. In the augury passage, a blood-red snake devours eight sparrows while their mother, soon to be eaten herself, hovered nearby. Odysseus calls the nestlings phila tekna—an example of the pathetic fallacy consistently applied by Homeric augurs—and says the mother was grieved. This description in the discourse of augury is compared by Kalkhas on purely numerical grounds; the Trojan Polydamas similarly combines sentiment with advice in his allegorical reading of a bird-sign (12.209-22). Both augurs draw a prospective moral from the bird image. Achilles, before comparing himself to a bird and drawing conclusions from the equation, uses a phrase similar to Polydamas' preface (autar egōn ereō hōs moi dokei einai arista, 9.314; cf. nun aut' exereō hōs moi dokei einai arista, 12.215). Like Odysseus, Achilles fills out his description of the parent bird in the pathetic manner. But his individual shaping of this piece of description consists in pointing the moral toward himself and toward the past: "So, too, I slept sleepless nights," says Achilles. The fall of Troy, and the outcome of battle, are not his concern, as they are in the other, similar bird auguries (Martin 1993:203-4).
For the bird simile itself and its context in Achilles' speech, see the comment on Iliad 9.323-326. For the broader analysis of Achilles' speech, see the comment on Iliad 9.307-429.
Martin, R. P. 1993. The Language of Heroes: Speech and Performance in the Iliad. Ithaca.
Homer's recusatio at the threshold of the Catalogue of Ships—"I could not make a muthos or name the entirety, not even if I had ten tongues, ten mouths, an unbreakable voice, and my heart bronze within me, unless the Olympian Muses, daughters of aegis-bearing Zeus, should recall how many came up to Troy" (2.488-92)—has a precise parallel in Achilles' hyperbolic denial at 9.379: "Not even if Agamemnon gives ten and twenty times as much will he persuade me." Although their topics appear to be different, both Achilles and the narrator Homer speak in the same manner: both specify a condition using hyperbolic numbering, then deny the condition by adding a further one—Homer requires the Muses, not merely ten tongues; Achilles demands that Agamemnon pay back his insult, and no other payments will satisfy him. Finally, both Homer and Achilles use this trope to continue their speech-acts: Homer by listing the Panhellenic forces, Achilles by listing his own assets in Phthia. As with the occurrence of the unique formula kleos aphthiton in Achilles' speech, this particularly marked trope is restricted within the rhetoric of the Iliad and given to only one hero to speak—the performer who is most like Homer (Martin 1993:223-24).
This parallel furnishes the most important piece of evidence for the first of two conclusions arising from the analysis of Achilles' speech. First, the "language of Achilles" is none other than that of the monumental composer: Homer fully reveals all the possibilities of his own poetic craft only in the extended speech of Achilles. Homer could have expanded formulaic diction in the speeches of any other hero to produce discourse as complex, inward-looking, and pleonastic as Achilles', but he did not. The effect is to make Achilles sound like a poet, and the similarity arises because Homer, when he constructs Achilles by means of language, employs all his poetic resources and stretches the limits of his formulaic art to make the hero as large a figure as possible. In short, the monumental poem demands a monumental hero; the language of epic, pressed to provide speech for such a man, becomes the "language of Achilles" (Martin 1993:222-23).
The second conclusion is the converse: the rhetoric of Homer as narrator is that of a heroic performer in the role of Achilles. Achilles' performance situation is itself an image for the way in which the poem was composed. Homer's composition of the monumental Iliad starts from the need to outdistance previous epics. The rhetoric of Achilles—his heroic self-performance in an adversary relationship with the past and the present—is at the root of Homer's own composition-in-performance. If the language of Achilles is the undisguised voice and rhetoric of Homer himself, then the converse is equally true (Martin 1993:224-25, 230).
For the specific expansion types that underlie the rhetoric of Achilles' speech, see the comments on Iliad 9.310-314 and Iliad 9.315-316.
Martin, R. P. 1993. The Language of Heroes: Speech and Performance in the Iliad. Ithaca.
Homer's request to the Muse at 2.761—"Who, then, was by far best—Muse, narrate to me (su moi ennepe Mousa)"—uses the verb ennepe, whose semantics have been described by Ernst Risch as referring to formal and artful reporting. This places the verb within the sphere of meanings associated with muthos and the verb mutheomai throughout the poem. The formulaic evidence confirms this: whenever a word describing speech is made the explicit object of ennepo, that word is muthos. Consider the expressions muthon enispes (11.186), ennepe muthon (8.412), muthon enispo (11.839), all naming commands, and muthoisin terponto pros allēlous enepontes (11.643), referring to the stories that Nestor and Makhaon exchange. Homeric poetry is therefore a muthos, specifically an act that can be classified as a feat of memory—the third heroic genre of discourse, and Achilles' specialty (Martin 1993:237-38).
Because the diction of Homer frames the poems in this way, the Iliad can be viewed as we do the speech-acts of the tellers within the tale: this is poetry meant to persuade, enacted in public, created by authority, in a context where authority is always up for grabs and to be won by the speaker with the best style. Most important is the further implication: that Homeric muthos is inherently antagonistic, and that the poet, like Diomedes in his contest with Glaukos, invents incident to overpower opposing versions. The poet of the Iliad, as an enacter of a muthos, must by this implication be a poet against others, out to obliterate their performances by speaking in more detail, about more topics—in short, in a more monumental fashion than any other epic performer. Achilles is the poet's voice and his emblem, a heroic speaker who outdoes others in style. I submit that the Iliad, a poem about contest, was created for a contest, of the type described in a number of texts, both in other traditions and in Greek from Hesiod to Corinna (Martin 1993:238).
For the comparative evidence regarding the poet's identification with his hero, see the comment on Iliad 9.182-198. For the analysis of Achilles' rhetoric as both model and emblem for Homer's composition, see the comment on Iliad 2.488-492.
Martin, R. P. 1993. The Language of Heroes: Speech and Performance in the Iliad. Ithaca.
Homer's invocation of the Muses at 2.484-86—where he makes clear that his narrative has continuity with the past guaranteed by his own contact with the Muses—must be read in contrast with the story of Thamyris at 2.594-600. When Homer says that a poet returning from Oikhalia was deprived of his art, he is making a claim that the Herakles tradition is faulty, that it suffered a break in historical transmission from the event itself. By contrast, Homer in Book 2 makes clear that his narrative has a continuity with the past which is guaranteed by his own contact with the Muses. In other words, although the story of Thamyris is on the surface about an agon between singers and ultimately about antagonism between artist and divinities, it is also a statement about the agon between Homer and previous singers. Just as Achilles is drawn in such a way that he obliterates Herakles, so the poem itself is composed under pressure from the Herakles epics and in response to them (Martin 1993:229-30).
For the recusatio and the claim that Homer composes under agonistic conditions, see the comment on Iliad 2.488-492.
Martin, R. P. 1993. The Language of Heroes: Speech and Performance in the Iliad. Ithaca.
The story of Thamyris returning from Oikhalia when he loses his poetic craft at the hands of the Muses (2.594-600) is the primary basis for a belief that early Greek poetry was composed under agonistic conditions. The detail that Thamyris is returning from Oikhalia is significant: this place, the city of Eurytus, has important connections in myth and poetry, for it is the city which Herakles sacked in anger after being refused the king's daughter, Iole. The exploit was commemorated in an epic, the Oikhalias Halosis, ascribed by some ancient sources to Homer. Walter Burkert has shown that this lost poem shares with the Iliad a focus on a tragic episode in the hero's life involving a woman and leading soon to the hero's death, and that both omit description of the hero's immortality and dwell instead on the tragic quality of the impending deaths. When Homer says that a poet returning from Oikhalia was deprived of his art, he can hardly be more explicit: this is a claim that the Herakles tradition is faulty, that it suffered a break in historical transmission from the event itself. By contrast, Homer in Book 2 makes clear that his narrative has continuity with the past guaranteed by his own contact with the Muses (2.484-86). Although the story of Thamyris is on the surface about an agon between singers, it is also a statement about the agon between Homer and previous singers (Martin 1993:229-30).
For Achilles' quantitative surpassing of Herakles within the poem, see the comment on Iliad 9.328-329.
Martin, R. P. 1993. The Language of Heroes: Speech and Performance in the Iliad. Ithaca.