245. mvp-comment-81-1 10.245 φιλεῖ δέ ἑ Παλλὰς Ἀθήνη On the relationship between Odysseus and Athena, see on 10.275.

246. mvp-comment-82-1 10.246 ἐκ πυρὸς αἰθομένοιο Petegorsky points out that this particular image calls to mind “the background of Achilles’ challenge to the Achaeans to avert the danger that threatens the ships by employing μῆτις. His words acquire a strong ‘horizontal resonance’ by pointing back to Achilles’ challenge and forward to the Patrocleia [cf. Iliad 16.81]. And yet, his description of Odysseus also has a strong ‘vertical resonance’; for it evokes an image of Odysseus that corresponds remarkably well to that which we find in the Odyssey” (1982:193). The types of resonance that Petegorsky reveals remind us of how oral poetry can have complex ways of creating meaning that are different from those in written texts.

247. mvp-comment-83-1 10.247 ἄμφω νοστήσαιμεν, ἐπεὶ περίοιδε νοῆσαι Odysseus’ primary heroic identity is concerned with nostos ‘homecoming’, which is the subject of the epic devoted to him. (See Nagy 1979:35 and 38–39.) Douglas Frame has shown that the words nostos and noos ‘mind’ share the verbal root * nes-, whose meaning has to do with “returning to life and light” (a meaning best understood, according to Frame, in the context of solar symbolism), and that the two concepts are combined on a conceptual and verbal level throughout the Odyssey. (Cf. e.g. the opening lines of the Odyssey, 1.3–5: πολλῶν δ’ ἀνθρώπων ἴδεν ἄστεα καὶ νόον ἔγνω … ἀρνύμενος ἥν τε ψυχὴν καὶ νόστον ἑταίρων [“Many are the cities of men and their ways of thinking he came to know, as he strove to win the life and homecoming of his companions.”]) See especially Frame 2005a and 2005b; on the root * nes, see also Frame 2009 and Bonifazi 2009. We can see that the deep connection between nostos and noos is built into the traditional character of Odysseus and comes into focus whenever he is featured, be it in the Iliad or the Odyssey.

247. mvp-comment-83-2 We have already seen some indications (on 10.211–212) that spying missions share some traditional language and thematic associations with journeys. Diomedes’ choice of Odysseus as the master of the kind of journey called a nostos (due to his quality of noos) is another example of this commonality. See also below on 10.509.

248. mvp-comment-84-1 10.248 πολύτλας δῖος Ὀδυσσεύς In this book Odysseus is also referred to as ὁ τλήμων Ὀδυσεὺς (“that enduring Odysseus,” 10.231 and 10.498; cf. Iliad 5.670 and Odyssey 18.319). Although Odysseus is polutlas ‘much enduring’ five times in the Iliad, the epithet is by far more common in the Odyssey, where it is naturally associated with the many travails he endures in that epic (cf. Odyssey 1.4: πολλὰ δ’ ὅ γ’ ἐν πόντῳ πάθεν ἄλγεα [“many are the pains he suffered”]). It is significant therefore that this formula appears directly following the verse in which Odysseus’ Odyssean association with nostos is conjured. But as we saw in our discussion of the etymologically related epithet τλήμων on 10.231, this formula may well have another aspect to it. When Achilles excoriates Agamemnon in Iliad 1 for his lack of participation in the hardships of war, he says:

“You drunkard, with a dog’s eyes and a deer’s heart,

whenever it comes to arming yourself for war with the rest of the warriors

or going on an ambush with the champions of the Achaeans,

you don’t have the heart to endure it. That looks like death to you.”

The verb Achilles uses is τέτληκα. In Idomeneus’ description of ambush warfare in Iliad 13 (discussed above, pp. 45–47), the verb τλάω is not used, but the need for endurance is likewise emphasized. Warriors on an ambush must endure fear, the discomfort of sitting/crouching as they wait for a long period of time to attack, and the cold of the night (as evidenced by the clothing chosen for ambush, clothing which Odysseus forgets to take both in Iliad 10 and in the story narrated in Odyssey 14). When Menelaos tells Telemakhos the story of the wooden horse in Odyssey 4, he praises Odysseus’ endurance ( ἔτλη) on that occasion ( Odyssey 4.271–272): οἷον καὶ τόδ’ ἔρεξε καὶ ἔτλη καρτερὸς ἀνὴρ / ἵππῳ ἔνι ξεστῷ (“What a thing he accomplished and endured, the mighty man, inside the wooden horse”). Odysseus’ steadfast character and ability to endure the lokhos are contrasted in Menelaos’ anecdote with that of the weaker-willed heroes, Diomedes, Menelaos himself, and Antiklos, all of whom Odysseus has to restrain from succumbing to Helen’s trick. In Odyssey 9, Odysseus describes how in the cave of the Cyclops he hid beneath the ram and held on, awaiting dawn “with an enduring heart” ( τετληότι θυμῷ, 9.435; for this same formula in other ambush contexts, see also Odyssey 4.447 and 4.459, Menelaos’ ambush of Proteus, and Odyssey 24.163, the description by the shades of the suitors of how Odysseus ambushed them). This kind of waiting—during the dark of night, in a hiding position—is what a warrior undergoes in an ambush. When Athena tells Odysseus in Odyssey 13 that he will need to conceal his identity in order to take control of his home, family, and kingdom again, she tells him he will have to endure ( σὺ δὲ τετλάμεναι καὶ ἀνάγκῃ, 13.307). He will have to take them by ambush, not outright force. (Cf. Odyssey 13.309–310: ἀλλὰ σιωπῇ / πάσχειν ἄλγεα πολλά, βίας ὑποδέγμενος ἀνδρῶν [“{You must} suffer many pains in silence, submitting to the biē of men.”]) Odysseus’ ability to withstand this particular kind of hardship is an important part of his epithet polutlas, and the endurance that Menelaos remembers as being so remarkable during the ambush of Troy is fundamentally connected to Odysseus’ ability to withstand the many algea he suffers on his journey home. (On the connection between the tla- compounds that describe Odysseus and the endurance required for ambush, see also Edwards 1985:17, and on the second half of the Odyssey as an ambush, see again Edwards 1985:35–37.)

249-250. mvp-comment-85-1 10.249–250 Τυδείδη μήτ᾽ ἄρ με μάλ᾽ αἴνεε μήτε τί νείκει· / εἰδόσι γάρ τοι ταῦτα μετ᾽ Ἀργείοις ἀγορεύεις Gregory Nagy sees this response by Odysseus as a meta-commentary on the epic tradition and the question of who is the best of the Achaeans (see 10.236). Nagy writes: “It is as if he were saying: ‘The Achaeans are aware of the tradition, so please do not exaggerate.’ With the words of Odysseus himself, the epic tradition of the Iliad has pointedly taken Odysseus out of contention” (1979:34). But just as Ajax can be called best for battle so long as Achilles remains withdrawn ( Iliad 2.768; Nagy 1979:27, 31), Odysseus here can contend for “best” at nighttime missions, since Achilles is not available now, either.

251-253. mvp-comment-86-1 10.251–253 μάλα γὰρ νὺξ ἄνεται, ἐγγύθι δ᾽ ἠώς, / ἄστρα δὲ δὴ προβέβηκε, παρῴχηκεν δὲ πλέω νὺξ / τῶν δύο μοιράων, τριτάτη δέ τι μοῖρα λέλειπται The amount of time that the events of Iliad 9 and Iliad 10 take up has been used, by Leaf and others, to argue that Iliad 10 does not belong to the Iliad. Of course, the events related in Iliad 11.1–18.242 all take place on one day, so narrative time seems quite flexible, expanding as the dramatic intensity increases. Thus this crucial night could dramatically include the “three-part” structure implied in these lines: the first part would include the embassy to Achilles, the second part when the Achaeans, other than Agamemnon, slept, and now this episode, comprising the remaining third part. In any case, these lines call attention to the urgency of the time, as well as suggesting the possibility of multiple episodes during the same night.

253. mvp-comment-87-1 10.253 According the scholia in the Venetus A, Zenodotus “did not write” this line. For more on the Alexandrian editorial procedures, see on 10.240 above.

254. mvp-comment-88-1 10.254 ὣς εἰπόνθ᾽ This is the first dual verb used for Diomedes and Odysseus. As soon as Odysseus agrees to be Diomedes’ partner, they are spoken of as a team, working together in every way. For more on the use of the dual verb forms, see on 10.53, 10.228, and 10.243.

254-272. mvp-comment-89-1 10.254–272 The passage that begins here functions much like an arming scene. In a well-known article, James Armstrong (1958) shows how formulaic arming scenes are employed at climactic moments in the Iliad with great effect. He analyzes in detail the four major arming scenes of the Iliad (those of Paris in Iliad 3, Agamemnon in Iliad 11, Patroklos in Iliad 16, and Achilles in Iliad 19), arguing that formulaic language in these passages is manipulated for various poetic purposes, and that each scene resonates with what came before, so that there is a cumulative effect over the course of the poem.

254-272. mvp-comment-89-2 In the night raid/ lohkos tradition, the dressing and arming of heroes would no doubt have had a poetic purpose similar to the expanded arming scenes of conventional battle. These scenes contribute both to suspense, by increasing the audience’s anticipation of the coming ambush or raid, and to characterization, as the details of each dressing or arming passage reveal important aspects of the hero’s character as a fighter. But even more importantly, the passages serve to signal that the poet is moving into a different poetic register. The poet transitions by way of such scenes from one megatheme to another, and the alternative style of clothing is emblematic of not only this alternative mode of fighting but also an alternative poetics.

254-272. mvp-comment-89-3 The armor described here is in many ways atypical. Most distinctive is what the heroes wear on their heads. Diomedes and Odysseus wear leather skull caps ( κυνέην … ταυρείην … ἥ τε καταῖτυξ κέκληται—the word καταῖτυξ is used only here in extant Greek literature), and the history of Odysseus’ cap is elaborately described: Odysseus’ own maternal grandfather Autolykos stole it and gave it away as a gift to Amphidamas, who likewise gave it as a gift to Molos, who then gave it to the Cretan Meriones, who now gives it to Odysseus along with the other weapons Odysseus will carry, a bow and quiver and sword. Meriones must give Odysseus all of this gear because when Odysseus leaves his tent, unlike the other heroes who dress in skins and cloaks and take their weapons, he takes only his shield. (See above on 10.149.)

254-272. mvp-comment-89-4 But both heroes, it should be noted, are given weapons and armor by the two leaders of the guards, Meriones and Thrasymedes, who came out into the night fully armed. Diomedes, we are told here, borrows a sword and shield from Thrasymedes, just as Odysseus uses Meriones’ bow, quiver, sword, and helmet. Such borrowing may reflect the impromptu nature of the mission—a quality that will be seen again when it changes from a spying mission to an ambush/night raid. Or it may give the mission a communal aspect, which can also be seen in the rest of the leaders remaining in this same spot, beyond the ditch, until Diomedes and Odysseus return. They are all invested in the success of these two.

254-272. mvp-comment-89-5 But while the clothing they wear and weapons they carry are unusual for extant Homeric epic, they are completely appropriate for a night raid, where, unlike the polemos, it is important not to be conspicuous. (See also Shewan 1911:55.) The history of the cap as a gift indicates that such an object has prestige as well as utility, and possession of it may indicate “the best,” who would wear such equipment for these dangerous and important missions. That it was originally stolen by the thief extraordinaire Autolykos seems related to the stealth that it affords the wearer, and also makes it even more fitting both for Odysseus personally, who is very much like his grandfather, as we know from Odyssey 19.395–412, and for the night mission that requires stealth. Petegorsky (1982:200) also argues that the helmet connects all of these elements of Odysseus’ identity: “This helmet functions as a kind of identity marker for Odysseus, and it is in effect the equivalent of the scar in Odyssey Nineteen, which was the result of a wound inflicted on the hero by the tusk of a boar.”

257. mvp-comment-90-1 10.257 ἀμφὶ δέ οἱ κυνέην κεφαλῆφιν ἔθηκε Nowhere else in surviving Homeric epic do we find heroes putting on leather caps, but we must also recognize that no other expanded descriptions of night raids of this nature survive. If more of the Epic Cycle narratives describing Diomedes’ and Odysseus’ nighttime exploits survived (for these, see on 10.243 above), such items of clothing might not seem so exotic. In the Nisus and Euryalus episode in the Aeneid, Euryalus makes the fatal mistake of putting on the helmet that he takes as spoils from a corpse, and the reflection of the moonlight off the helmet gives him away to the enemy ( Aeneid 9.373–374: “alea Euryalum sublustri noctis in umbra / prodidit immemorem radiisque aduersa refulsit”). Whereas heroes strive for conspicuous distinction ( kudos) on the battlefield, ambush warfare is characterized by hiding and concealment. Cf. the Venetus B scholia on 10.258, which note that the kind of leather helmet worn here is ἄφαλον and ἄλλοφον “for being inconspicuous” ( διὰ τὸ λανθάνειν).

259. mvp-comment-91-1 10.259 θαλερῶν αἰζηῶν ‘flourishing, vigorous young men’: Botanic imagery is used here to describe the warriors whose heads are protected by these helmets. The imagery of the hero as a plant that blossoms beautifully and dies quickly is an important theme in Greek lament traditions, as we see in Thetis’ lament for Achilles in Iliad 18.54–60 and in other passages throughout the Iliad. It is also a metaphor that encapsulates what glory means in the Iliad. One of the primary metaphors for epic song in the Iliad is that of a flower that will never wilt:

410 My mother the goddess Thetis of the shining feet tells me

that there are two ways in which I may meet my end.

If I stay here and fight around the city of Troy,

my homecoming is lost, but my glory in song [ kleos] will be unwilting:

whereas if I reach home and my dear fatherland,

415 my kleos is lost, but my life will be long,

and the outcome of death will not soon take me.

Here Achilles reveals not only the crux of this choice of fates around which the Iliad itself is built, but also the driving principle of Greek epic song. The unwilting flower of epic poetry is contrasted with the necessarily mortal hero, whose death comes all too quickly. (See especially Nagy 1979:174–184 and Dué 2006a:64–69. Nagy shows that the root phthi- in the Greek word aphthiton ‘unwilting’ is inherently connected with vegetal imagery, and means ‘wilt’.) The Iliad quotes within its narration of Achilles’ kleos many songs of lamentation that highlight the mortality of the central hero, as well as underscoring the immortality of song. The traditional imagery of these quoted laments spills over into epic diction itself, with the result that similes, metaphors, and other traditional descriptions of heroes are infused with themes drawn from the natural world, as here.

259. mvp-comment-91-2 With Diomedes, Meriones, Neoptolemos, and even Achilles as examples, we might also argue that ambush is associated with younger men in particular, and thus the cap that is good for ambush is worn by young men. In the “Tradition and Reception” essay above we noted Gernet’s (1936) work on the Dolon myth, in which he argues that the episode is suggestive of initiation rituals in which young men must spend a period of time apart from society as well as other rites of initiation that take place at night. (See also Johnston 2002 on cattle raiding as a form of initiation; we have explored above in “The Poetics of Ambush” the thematic overlap between cattle raiding and ambush in Homeric epic.) The word thaleros used in this line to describe the young men may be important here. This word is used several times in Homer of husbands or young men and women on the verge of marriage. See e.g. the Homeric Hymn to Demeter 79, where Persephone is called a θαλερὴν ἄκοιτιν; Iliad 6.430, where thaleros is used of Hektor by Andromache and 8.190, used by Hektor of himself as the husband of Andromache; Iliad 4.474, where it is used of Simoesios, who dies before marriage—i.e. at the age when he should have been getting married; Iliad 3.26, where it is used of young hunters, who are likewise αἰζηοί; Iliad 8.156, where it is used of the Trojan husbands whom Diomedes has killed; Odyssey 6.66, where it is used of Nausikaa’s impending marriage; and Odyssey 20.74, where it is used of the requested marriage of the daughters of Pandareus. In the Theogony, it is used of Gaia’s first “husband” Ouranos, but there he is being described as the parent of Zeus. If we posit that ambush expeditions could serve as a rite of passage or form of initiation, it would explain why fear is said to be such an important factor: the success or failure of the mission would hinge on how the young men handled that fear. (See e.g. Iliad 13.277–278, where ambush is described as “the place where the merit of men most shines through, where the coward and the resolute man are revealed” and Odyssey 11.528–530. Both passages are discussed in “The Poetics of Ambush” above.)

260. mvp-comment-92-1 10.260 βιὸν ἠδὲ φαρέτρην On the bow as a particularly appropriate weapon for night attacks, see the arguments of McLeod 1988. The Townley scholia at this line explain that Odysseus takes the bow so that he can shoot at those who are in the light (as the Trojans would be beside their campfires). McLeod adduces “half a dozen sources, spread over two millennia, testifying to a recurrent connection between the dark of night, the bow, and aiming at light” (McLeod 1988:123). The bow is of course also Odysseus’ signature weapon in the Odyssey, and similar to the lineage of the boar’s tusk helmet below (see 10.267), the bow that Odysseus leaves in Ithaka also has a particular story, being both an heirloom and guest-gift ( Odyssey 21.13–41). Steven Farron succinctly describes the importance of the bow in that epic: “Odysseus boasts of his pre-eminence at military archery ( Odyssey 8.215–222), establishes his right to Penelope with his skill at using the bow and it is his main weapon against the suitors” (Farron 2003:182). It has been argued (by e.g. Lorimer 1950:296–297 and 483) on this basis that Iliad 10 must be composed later than the Odyssey. On the problems with this argument, see “Interpreting Iliad 10.”

263-264. mvp-comment-93-1 10.263–264 ἔκτοσθε δὲ λευκοὶ ὀδόντες / ἀργιόδοντος ὑὸς θαμέες ἔχον ἔνθα καὶ ἔνθα As Hainsworth notes (1993 ad 10.261–265), “There is no doubt that a piece of bronze-age equipment is being referred to.” But how does this much-discussed example of Bronze Age material culture contribute to our understanding of the composition and poetics of the Iliad? Sherratt (1990:818) observes that the boar’s tusk helmet “though still occasionally found in graves as late as the 12th and 11th centuries, disappears from representational art of a military nature after 1200 BC.” (See also Lorimer 1950:212–219 and Stubbings 1962:516.) Is the boar’s tusk helmet evidence that Homeric poetry was being composed in the Bronze Age? Many scholars have rejected such a proposition, and instead have viewed this helmet as an instance of an eighth-century poet deliberately “archaizing” (on this concept, see e.g. Dickinson 1986, Kirk 1960:190ff., and Morris 1986:89ff.). Hainsworth questions whether the verses could survive from the Bronze Age, “their language being in no respect exceptionally archaic”; rather, he asserts that “[t]he poet of this book wanted to introduce an interesting and exotic object.” Those who see Iliad 10 as a particularly late composition are not inclined to accept that such an old object forms a natural part of this book, and instead prefer to see its inclusion as the work of an archaizing individual. But Sherratt (1990) has shown that, just as there are linguistic layers in the traditional language of Homeric poetry, so too are there archaeological layers that are not well explained by those who seek to isolate and dismiss individual Bronze Age relics as heirlooms or as products of deliberate archaizing. And just as the poetic diction evolved in such a way that we cannot easily separate out Aeolic language from Ionic (see above on 10.18), so too elements of disparate material cultures are integrated into the Iliad in such way that they can only be explained as the result of an evolving but also conservative process of oral composition, hundreds of years in the making. The arming scene of Odysseus and Diomedes in Iliad 10 is no different than countless other passages in the Iliad that include weapons from very different eras (see e.g. Sherratt 1990:810–811 on Iliad 19.369–391). Here, the boar’s tusk helmet seems to serve a poetic function beyond that of simply being an exotic object, for which see on 10.267.