comment on the goal of the second to last segment of the poem, books 17-20, Achilles’ return to battle, and their relationship with the final segment

comment on the Trojan Erichthonios in Homer in the context of discussing the Athenian Erichthonios (cult and connection with Athena)

comparison of the diction of the passage of Tyro’s conceiving and giving birth in the Odyssey with this passage from the Iliad

comparison of the diction of the passage of Tyro’s conceiving and giving birth in the Odyssey with this passage from the Iliad

comparison of the diction of the passage of Tyro’s conceiving and giving birth in the Odyssey with this passage from the Iliad

By now Achilles has a new set of armor, and he is ready to fight the Trojans. But his first major opponent seems to be a distraction. At least, our initial impression may lead us to think that there is a distraction going on here. The first major opponent of Achilles in Iliad 20 is Aeneas, hero of epic traditions that eventually became absorbed into the Aeneid of Virgil. Is this hero, we may ask, a truly worthy opponent of Achilles? Are the epic traditions that figure this son of Aphrodite / Venus truly worthy of the epic that is the Homeric Iliad? Once we examine more closely the oldest Greek epic traditions of Aeneas, it will become clear that this hero is indeed a most important opponent of Achilles, in that he represents ancient Greek epic traditions that are different from and antithetical to the epic tradition that prevailed in the Homeric Iliad as we know it. Not only does Aeneas challenge Achilles: even the epic traditions that figure Aeneas will challenge the epic traditions that figure Achilles. To say it another way, Aeneas represents a proto-Aeneid that challenges the proto-Iliad of Achilles. What makes Aeneas and his Aeneid—or, better, Aeneids—such a formidable challenge to Achilles is the enormous political prestige of the epic tradition that backs up Aeneas. By virtue of being the son of Aphrodite/Venus, Aeneas possesses a genealogical and dynastic charisma that threatens to overshadow the purely epic charisma of his Iliadic opponent Achilles.

“Venus preventing her son Aeneas from killing Helen of Troy,” Luca Ferrari, circa 1650. Luca Ferrari [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.

In this speech, Aeneas speaks to Achilles from the standpoint of an epic tradition that glorifies primarily Aeneas, not Achilles. At I.20.200, Aeneas uses the word epea ‘words’ in referring negatively to the earlier speech of Achilles, I.20.178–198, where Achilles had spoken from the standpoint of an epic tradition that glorified primarily Achilles. This word epea—pronounced as epē in prose—normally means simply ‘words’ when it is used inside of epic diction, but it can also mean ‘words of poetry’ when it is used outside of such diction in contexts referring to poetry, especially to epic poetry. In prose, this kind of usage leads to the explicit meaning of epē as ‘epic poetry’. And, exceptionally, such a meaning of epē can even occur within the diction of epic poetry itself. That is what seems to be happening in the context of I.20.200, where epea refers to the words of Achilles as if they were the ‘poetic words’ of epic—that is, as if these words were the equivalent of epic itself. Do not try to intimidate me, Aeneas says to Achilles at I.20.200–201, by telling epea ‘words’ about past epic events like our mutual encounter in the highlands of Mount Ida and beyond. Yes, some epics will glorify you, but there are other epics that will glorify me instead. See further in the comment below on I.20.248–250. By implication, Aeneas is saying here that he has access to a different though related version of epic events, and that such a version will glorify him at the expense of Achilles. In fact, the entire speech of Aeneas at I.20.200–258 is a glorification of this hero by way of an epic tradition that is different from though related to the tradition that glorifies Achilles. This different tradition, as Aeneas goes on to demonstrate, glorifies primarily Aeneas himself. Meanwhile, the poetic implications of the word epea as ‘epic’ now become more explicit at I.20.203–205. Aeneas says here that he and Achilles know stories about each other not because they have been eyewitnesses to these stories, I.20.205, but because they both have heard, as other listeners have also heard, the epea that are the stories, and these epea are pro-kluta ‘glorious’, I.20.204. In this context, then, the word epea comes close to meaning ‘epics’, since the idea of pro-kluta as poetically ‘glorious’ is linked with the etymology of this adjective as ‘prominently heard’, just as the idea of kleos as a poetic kind of ‘glory’ is linked with the etymology of this noun as ‘the thing that is heard’. See the comment on I.02.484–487. Also relevant to the sense of epea as ‘words of poetry’ is the mutual negativity of the rivalry that is ongoing here between the two different epic traditions about Aeneas and Achilles. For example, there is an insulting reference that Aeneas makes at I.20.211 to the epea as recounted by Achilles about Aeneas. Those epea or ‘words of poetry’, as a veritable ‘epic’ told by Achilles, were certainly negative about Aeneas, just as Aeneas is now speaking negatively about Achilles and about that hero’s role in those same epea. Such mutual negativity is expressed by way of using words of blame poetry as contained within the epic, even though epic sees itself as a form of poetry that engages primarily in words of praise. The negativity of blame poetry is actually signaled in the words of Aeneas at I.20.251, who uses the noun neikea, plural of neikos ‘quarrel’, in referring to the mutual negativity that the two heroes express in their speeches to and about each other. See further in the comment on I.20.244–256.

So, Aeneas in the Homeric Iliad can boast about the eternal genes that make him the ideal ancestor of any dynasty that claims to be descended from him. And that is how, from the hindsight of world history, Rome could claim its destiny as the Eternal City. I have already noted that Strabo (13.1.53 C608), after listing various dynasties in the past that had been vying with each other for possession of Aeneas as their ancestor, concludes by acknowledging Rome as the world power that ultimately won out in claiming Aeneas as its founder. And Virgil’s Aeneid can go down in history as a most powerful statement of such a claim. But what about the era when the Homeric Iliad took shape? Does this epic make a claim that is comparable to what we see in the Aeneid of Virgil? Such questions need to be consolidated and asked retrospectively, not just prospectively, since the historically earlier cases where dynasties claimed descent from Aeneas are not nearly as well attested as is the case of Rome. So, the consolidated question is this: from the standpoint of the Iliad as we have it, was there any existing political power that could have claimed ownership, as it were, of Aeneas? The answer is simple: there did exist some grouping of Ionians that had such power, and, for them, Aeneas was an Ionian. But the details, as we will see in what follows, are complicated. And, to complicate things further, there were two phases of Ionian ownership, which I summarize here in the form of two points to be made from the start.

Point 1. [Epitomized from HPC 196–197.] The first of two phases for an Ionian ownership of Aeneas can be traced back to the seventh century BCE or perhaps even earlier. It was a time when the Ionians of the Ionian Dodecapolis in central Asia Minor, dominated by the Ionian city of Miletus, were continuing to expand their influence in northern Asia Minor. (For more on the Ionian Dodecapolis, see the inventory of Words and Ideas.) One sign of such expansionism was the success of these Ionians in making inroads into the region of ancient Troy in northern Asia Minor and establishing there a new Troy, as it were. Such success is reflected in the Ionian epic tradition. The primary example is the Ionian epic of the Iliou Persis, attributed to Arctinus of Miletus. Here I offer a brief review of the relevant parts of this epic (Proclus summary p. 107.24–26 ed. Allen 1912):

After Troy was completely destroyed by the Achaeans, a handful of prominent survivors sought to find alternative places to live. The most prominent of these survivors of Troy’s total destruction was the hero Aeneas: foreseeing the destruction that was about to happen, he withdrew from the doomed city and moved to a palace he established in the highlands of Mount Ida.

This version of the Aeneas story matches not only the plot of the epic Iliou Persis. It matches also the local mythology of the city of Scepsis, located in the region of Mount Ida. As we learn from Strabo (13.1.53 C607), Demetrius of Scepsis claimed explicitly that the basileion ‘royal palace’ of Aeneas was in the city of Scepsis. The idea of a royal city founded by Aeneas in the region of Mount Ida reflects the political interests of Ionians in general, not only of Scepsis in particular. To make this point, I start by focusing on two details reported by Demetrius of Scepsis by way of Strabo (13.1.52 C607):

A. The city of Scepsis, after being founded by Aeneas, was later ruled jointly by Ascanius (Askanios) son of Aeneas and Scamandrius (Skamandrios) son of Hector.

B. The population of Scepsis was augmented at a later period by immigrants from the Ionian city of Miletus.

Scepsis had a special meaning for Ionians not only because this city was supposedly the site of the palace of the hero Aeneas but also because the ancient site of Troy was supposedly located within its territory, in the highlands of Mount Ida. Here was the kōmē ‘village’ of the Ilieis ‘people of Ilion’, a site that Demetrius of Scepsis claimed was the real ancient Troy, while the Aeolian site of Ilion, some 30 stadium-lengths to the northwest, was supposedly a false Troy (Strabo 13.1.35–36 C597–598; also 13.1.25 C593). So, the Trojan War, according to this Ionian version, supposedly happened in territory that Ionians once claimed as their own. In this version, ancient Troy was totally destroyed and then later reoccupied as a mere village, while Aeneas established at Scepsis a new city of Troy for the surviving Trojans. And the relocation of Aeneas to Scepsis at a time that anticipated the total destruction of ancient Troy now made it possible for the new Troy that was Scepsis to become the legitimate heir to the Trojan heritage—all within the framework of Ionian territory. In terms of this particular Ionian version of the Trojan War, everything happened within the Ionian territory of Scepsis. In contrast to this version of the Trojan War, which suited the interests of the Ionians, the Aeolians made a rival claim: that Troy was in fact not totally destroyed and that some of its population survived to rebuild the old city, originally called either Troy or Ilion, as the New Ilion, or, more simply, Ilion. See the anchor comment at I.09.328–333 about efforts of Aeolians to possess ancient Troy and its environs in the historical period. This rival version of the Aeolians was actively promoted by the historian Hellanicus of Lesbos, whose publications can be dated as far back as 406 BCE (scholia for Aristophanes Frogs 694). Hellanicus in his Trōïka (FGH 4 F 25b), as mediated by Strabo (13.1.42 C602), says that the city of New Ilion was in fact the same place as the old Ilion, that is, ancient Troy. Strabo (again, 13.1.42 C602) remarks that this claim of Hellanicus—who was a native of Aeolian Lesbos—reflects the historian’s partiality toward the people of the Aeolian city of New Ilion. Modern archaeology, however, has proved that the claim of the Aeolians as represented by Hellanicus of Lesbos was basically right and that the rival claim of the Ionians as later represented by Demetrius of Scepsis was wrong. There is in fact no historical or archaeological support for the claim that the old Ilion, ancient Troy, was located in the Ionian territory of Scepsis. Here I return to the Ionian version as restated by Demetrius and then by Strabo (13.1.35–36 C597–598; also 13.1.25 C593). According to this version, as we saw, the site of the old Ilion was the kōmē ‘village’ of the Ilieis ‘people of Ilion’ in the territory of Scepsis, some thirty stadium-lengths away from New Ilion. Despite the fact, however, that Demetrius thinks of this ‘village’ as the site of ancient Troy, he concedes (via Strabo 13.1.38 C599) that he could see absolutely no trace of any epic ruins there.

Point 2. [Epitomized, radically, from HPC 143–146.] The second of two phases for an Ionian ownership of Aeneas can be traced back to an era that starts, by my estimation, somewhere around the late seventh century BCE. The city of Athens, which was emerging as a primary representative of Ionian identity at that time, was making its own inroads into the region of ancient Troy, eventually establishing there a new Troy of its own by occupying and reconfiguring the city of Sigeion, which had been formerly an Aeolian stronghold. The formerly Aeolian identity of Sigeion is noted by Strabo 13.1.25 C593. As for the reconfigured Ionian identity of Sigeion as a new Troy, I refer again to Points 6 and 8 in the anchor comment at I.09.328–333. This reconfigured city of Sigeion as a new Troy became a rival of another new Troy, Ilion, which had been built by the Aeolians on the foundations of what remained of the old Troy, as noted at Points 1–5 in the same anchor comment at I.09.328–333. See also anchor comment at I.20.302–308 on: Aeneas the Ionian, part 2; and anchor comment at I.20.302–308 on: Aeneas the Aeolian.

In boasting about his own genealogy, the hero Aeneas uses the verb eukhesthai ‘declare’ here at I.20.209, thus making a most definitive epic statement of identity. When the genealogy is completed at I.20.241, the verb eukhesthai ‘declare’ recurs, indicating the simultaneous completion of the boast. For Aeneas, an all-important aspect of his lengthy genealogy is his most immediate genetic link: as this hero boasts by way of that most solemn word eukhesthai ‘declare’ here at I.20.209, he is the son of Aphrodite herself. And, from this goddess of sexuality, who is the embodiment of eternal regeneration, Aeneas has inherited what could best be described as eternal genes, as it were. Such an arresting idea is at the same time a political ideology, since any dynasty that can claim Aeneas as ancestor is thereby destined to be regenerated, successor after successor, for all eternity. There is evidence, as noted by Strabo 13.1.53 C608, for the existence of dynastic powers that did in fact claim Aeneas as their ancestor. In the end, though, only one of these powers noted by Strabo actually succeeded in making permanent such a claim. That power was Rome, and, retrospectively, the surviving record that made such a claim permanent was of course the Aeneid of Virgil, which tells how Aeneas escaped from Troy before it was completely destroyed and how he traveled all the way to Italy, where he became the originator of the world power that became Rome.

The use of the verb eidénai ‘know’ in both verses here at I.20.213–214 is relevant to the poetics of knowing something by way of hearing the authoritative testimony of epic. There is a reference to such poetics already earlier at I.20.203, where eidénai ‘know’ refers to knowing the facts of genealogy by way of hearing epea as ‘epic’, described at I.20.204. On this point, see the general comment on the speech of Aeneas at I.20.200–258. And the basic fact about that entire speech of Aeneas is a fact of genealogy. As we saw in the comment on I.20.209, Aeneas is making a most solemn heroic boast, signaled by the word eukhesthai ‘claim’, that he is the son of the goddess Aphrodite herself.

Erikhthonios, son of Dardanos, is figured here at I.20.215–219 as a kind of proto-Trojan king who was an ancestor of Aeneas. The name of this foundational king Erikhthonios, I.20.219, converges with the name of a foundational king of Athens, as we will see in the comment on I.20.230–241. Such a convergence signals an Athenian connection with the Ionian ownership, as it were, of epic traditions about Aeneas. On Athenians as would-be representatives of Ionian cultural heritage, see Point 2 in the anchor comment at I.20.209 about Aeneas the Ionian.

As we learned previously from I.20.215–219, the foundational proto-Trojan king named Erikhthonios was fathered by an even earlier proto-Trojan king named Dardanos. The narrative of the genealogical succession now continues at I.20.231–241: Erikhthonios fathers Trōs, whose name means ‘Trojan’; so, from here on, the succession of kings is no longer proto-Trojan but Trojan; then Trōs fathers Ilos and Assarakos; then Ilos—whose name presupposes the alternative name of Troy, Ilion—fathers Laomedon who fathers Priam, but Assarakos fathers Kapys who fathers Anchises; finally, Priam fathers Hector but Anchises fathers Aeneas. There is a match here in the chronological sequencing for the king Erikhthonios of Troy and for the king Erikhthonios of Athens. The Athenian king Erikhthonios was a differentiated mythological by-form of another Athenian king, Erekhtheus. Such a differentiation can probably be dated as far back as the late seventh century BCE, when the Athenians gained control of Sigeion, a city that now became their very own new Troy. See Point 2 in the anchor comment at I.20.209 about Aeneas the Ionian, part 1. What resulted from this differentiation was a set of two different kings located in two different zones of time within the genealogical sequence of Athenian kings. The earlier location of Erikhthonios in this Athenian genealogy matches chronologically the location of Erikhthonios in the Trojan genealogy that culminates in Aeneas. According to the Parian Marble (FGH 239 section 23), Troy was conquered in 1209/8 BCE, and that event would have happened roughly three centuries after an event that coincides with the era of the Athenian king Erikhthonios: according to the Parian Marble (FGH 239 section 10), the Athenians claimed that Erikhthonios was the inventor of the four-horse chariot for the occasion of the first chariot race held at the first Panathenaic festival in 1505/4 BCE. So, the differentiation of the Athenian Erekhtheus into an earlier Erikhthonios and a later Erekhtheus made it possible to connect more easily the Athenian Erikhthonios with the Trojan Erikhthonios, ancestor of Aeneas. This way, the prestige of the Trojan genealogy, culminating in the dynastic figure of the epic hero Aeneas, could be appropriated into the Athenian genealogy of kings. A signal of such an Athenian appropriation in the Iliad is a pointed reference at I.05.271 to four chariot-horses owned by Anchises, father of Aeneas, to be complemented by two chariot-horses owned by Aeneas himself. I.05.272. The narrative introduces these two sets of chariot-horses by revealing at I.05.263–270 that Anchises secretly bred six horses from the original set of chariot-horses given by Zeus to Trōs in compensation for the abduction of the king’s son, Ganymede; of these six, he kept four for himself and gave two to Aeneas, I.05.271–272. As we have already learned from the Parian Marble (FGH 239 section 10), the Athenians claimed that Erikhthonios was the inventor of the four-horse chariot for the occasion of the first chariot race held at the first Panathenaic festival in 1505/4 BCE. So, the Iliadic reference to the four-horse chariot team of Anchises is an implicit Athenian signature. To be contrasted are the two-horse chariot teams used by almost all warriors—including Aeneas himself, I.05.270–272—for fighting battles in the Trojan War. An exception is the four-horse chariot team used by Hector, I.08.185. He too, like Aeneas, is a descendant of Dardanos, I.20.240. So here again we see the makings of an implicit Athenian signature.

the same verse as used when Eos abducts Kleitos in O.15.251

See anchor comment at I.12.188.

In boasting about his own genealogy, the hero Aeneas started the boast by signaling it with the verb eukhesthai ‘declare’ at I.20.209, thus making a most definitive epic statement of identity. Now that the genealogy is completed at I.20.241, the verb eukhesthai ‘declare’ recurs, indicating by way of ring-composition the simultaneous completion of the boast. For more on the semantics of boasting as signaled by eukhesthai ‘declare’, see Muellner 1976.

As noted in the general comment on I.20.200–258, Aeneas uses the noun neikea, plural of neikos ‘quarrel’, in referring to the mutual negativity that he and Achilles are expressing in their speeches to and about each other. Also used in the same context is the verb neikeîn ‘quarrel with’ at I.20.252 and I.20.254. On the noun neikos ‘quarrel’ and the verb neikeîn ‘quarrel with’ as programmatic markers of blame poetry, see especially the comments on I.02.221, I.03.059, I.03.100, I.10.249–253. Yet another word that is used in the same context here at I.20.244–256 is the noun oneidea, plural of oneidos ‘words of insult’, at I.20.244. On this word, see the comments on I.02.222.

The word epea is used here at I.20.249 to mean not only ‘words’ but also, more specifically, ‘words of poetry’, such as the words of epic. The words of poetry are spoken here in an act of boasting—which is framed within the act of performing epic. See the general comment on I.20.200–258; see also the earlier comment on I.12.387–391. Here at I.20.248–250, Aeneas is cautioning Achilles about the variability of epea as ‘poetic words’. There is a wide range of different ways of saying different things. Different epics, Aeneas is saying in effect, can have different truth-values in different places. What is said in a positive sense at one place may be said in a negative sense at another place. That is the nature of mūthoi, I.20.248, which are ‘wordings spoken for the record’. For more on the Homeric sense of this word mūthos as ‘wording spoken for the record’, see the comment at I.19.084–085. As I noted in that comment, any wording that is called a mūthos by the Master Narrator himself in the act of actually quoting the words of the wording will have the prestige of reality—to the extent that the listeners were actually expected to accept the idea that such wording had once upon a time been really spoken exactly as quoted by Homer himself. In the context of I.20.248–250 here, however, it becomes clear that there were in fact different regional versions of epics as quoted, as it were, by Homer. As Aeneas says at I.20.248–249, there is no single mūthos in the sense that there is no single way of wording a story for the record: rather, there are many ways of wording a story, and so there are many mūthoi to be heard by listeners, not just one. And, to repeat, there is a wide range of different ways of saying different things. As Aeneas says it, I.20.249, the nomós or ‘range’ of epea as ‘words of poetry’ is vast, varying from place to place. The choice of wording here is most evocative: the word nomós can mean literally ‘range of lands used for pasturing’, as at I.02.475, and the metaphorical application here to the wide range of epics about Aeneas and Achilles may evoke a pastoral scene of a cattle-raid in the highlands of Mount Ida, where Achilles was once upon a time rustling the cattle that were pastured there by Aeneas. Such a pastoral scene is signaled in the story as told by Aeneas at I.20.089–102: he was pasturing his cattle in the highlands of Mount Ida, and Achilles evidently caught him off guard in a cattle-raid, I.20.090–091. See the comment on I.20.089–102.

analysis of cases where speeches introduced/concluded by formulas (X) = introduce speech – Greek speaker – dead Trojan, or (Y) = conclude speech – Trojan speaker – dead Greek, are challenges to a confrontation with another hero, and as here, genos-speeches as in fact challenges

analysis of phanai as contrasting with and substituting for eukhomai, in the context of analyzing the meaning of eukhesthai in genos eukhesthai einai formulas [MRBTP: 'ff']

analysis of the divergent attestations of eukhesthai in the context of genos specification, namely, Aeneas’ specification of both of his parents, with eukhesthai ekgegamen instead of genos eukhesthai einai

in a list of attestations of genos eukhesthai einai and its transformations

comment on the etiquette of naming conventions, the omission of one’s own name in geneē-speeches vs. mentioning another’s name in such contexts, and stating one’s own name as a sign of special fame (in the context of analyzing genos eukhesthai einai formulas)

comment on the etiquette of naming conventions, the omission of one’s own name in geneē-speeches vs. mentioning another’s name in such contexts, and stating one’s own name as a sign of special fame (in the context of analyzing genos eukhesthai einai formulas)

example of an elaborated speech about one’s geneē (Aeneas), in the context of analyzing the more common short genos eukhesthai einai formulas [MRBTP: 'ff']

in a list of attestations of genos eukhesthai einai and its transformations

Aeneas' words at 20.246-50 show that muthoi are the large units and epea the small. "Insults" (oneidea) are figured as weighty, tangible goods: "We both have insults to speak formally (muthēsasthai), many of them, nor could a ship with a hundred benches bear the load." The image of "heavy" speech that Aeneas applies to insults extends to muthoi as a whole. Contrast this with the image of the "pasturage" of epea: unlike muthoi, which can be characterized individually (pantoioi, "of all types"), epea travel about here and there in a wide field. Epea are moreover like small objects that can be batted to and fro, part of a general system of exchange: "Whatever epos you say, you hear in return." (Martin 1993:17).