Iliad. Homer. A. T. Murray (Translator). London. 1924-1925.
Sponsored by Perseus Project, Tufts University.
Funding provided by The Annenberg CPB/Project.
Iliad. Homer. A. T. Murray (Translator). London. 1924-1925.
Sponsored by Perseus Project, Tufts University.
Funding provided by The Annenberg CPB/Project.
Iliad (English) (Homer. The Iliad, Volume 1-2. Murray, A. T. (Augustus Taber), translator. London: William Heinmann; New York: G.P. Putnam's Sons, 1924-1925.)
Iliad
comment on the phrase thēlus eousa in connection with Agamemnon, at I.23 regarding his mare and I.19 regarding Hera in her deception of Zeus
The time has come for Achilles to re-enter the war against the Trojans. For this to happen, Agamemnon must first settle with Achilles. But the over-king feels the need to say more than simply to formulate his proposed terms of settlement. His aim is to excuse himself from responsibility for dishonoring Achilles, and the story that he tells in order to achieve this aim is a retelling of a cosmic atē ‘aberration’ that resulted in the Labors of Hēraklēs. Such a retelling, however, is destined to backfire: it will result in further damage to Agamemnon’s own royal status and in further advancement for the heroic prestige of Achilles, for whom Hēraklēs now becomes a perfect model.
Herakles at the tree of the Hesperides, holding three of the golden apples in his left hand. Behind him is the apple tree with the guardian serpent clinging around it.
Bronze, 104.5cm (Roman, 1st century C.E.).
Image via The British Museum.
The mēnis ‘anger’ of Achilles has now finally been ‘un-said’ by the hero, as expressed by the verb apo-eipeîn, I.19.075. The response of the Achaeans as an aggregate is a collective feeling of joy, as expressed by the root khar- of the verb khairein in the sense of ‘rejoice’. By contrast, while the mēnis ‘anger’ was still ongoing, the Achaeans had collectively felt grief, as expressed by the root akh- of the verb akhnusthai ‘feel grief’ and of the noun akhos ‘grief’. See especially the comments on I.01.188 and on I.01.509. Such a semantic contrast between collective joy and collective grief is re-enacted in names like Khari-lā(u̯)os and Akhi-lāu̯os. The second of these two names is my reconstruction of an older form of the name Akhil(l)leús*: see the comment on I.01.002. (BA 77, 79; also 65).
The following is epitomized from H24H 1§36. Agamemnon, who is the high king among all the kings of the Achaean warriors participating in the war at Troy, is speaking here in a public assembly of the Achaeans. Strangely, he speaks to his fellow warriors while remaining in a seated position, I.19.077, saying that it is a good thing to listen to a man who speaks in a standing position and that it is hard for even a good speaker to hupoballein (ὑββάλλειν) him, I.19.080. So, what does this mean? Achilles had just spoken to the assembly at verses I.19.056–073, and it is made explicit at I.19.055 that he was standing. In the Greek-English dictionary of Liddell, Scott, and Jones (LSJ), hupoballein is interpreted as ‘interrupt’ in the context of I.19.080 here. A related context is the adverb hupoblēdēn (ὑποβλήδην) at I.01. 292, where Achilles is responding to Agamemnon in the course of their famous quarrel. Some translate that adverb as ‘interruptingly’ (details in PR 20). Instead, I interpret hupoballein and hupoblēdēn as ‘speak in relay [after someone]’ and ‘speaking in relay’ respectively, and I argue that the concept of relay speaking is a characteristic of competitive speech-making (PR 21–22). As Richard Martin has shown, the Iliad can dramatize Agamemnon and Achilles in the act of competing with each other as speakers, not only as warriors and leaders, and Achilles is consistently portrayed as the better speaker by far (Martin 1989:117; also 63, 69–70, 98, 113, 117, 119, 133, 202, 219, 223, 228). At I.01.292, where I interpret hupoblēdēn as ‘speaking in relay’, Achilles engages in verbal combat with Agamemnon not so much by way of ‘interrupting’ but by picking up the train of thought exactly where his opponent left off—and out-performing him in the process. So, here at I.19.080, Agamemnon backs off from verbal combat with Achilles, using as an excuse the fact that he is wounded: I can’t stand up, and therefore I can’t compete by picking up the train of thought where Achilles left off—and therefore I can’t out-perform him (and perhaps I don’t anymore have the stomach even to try to do so). The successful performer remains standing, and the unsuccessful performer fails to stand up and compete by taking his turn, choosing instead to sit it out. He will still speak to Achilles, but he will speak without offering any more competition (PR 22).
In seeking to settle his quarrel with Achilles, Agamemnon claims that he was not aitios ‘responsible’, I.19.086. Rather it was atē ‘aberration’ or ‘derangement’ that made him ‘act deranged’, aâsthai, I.19.091. This word aâsthai, which can be translated more literally as ‘veer off-course’, functions here as the verb for the noun atē, which can be translated correspondingly as ‘veering off-course’. In what follows, I can even translate the noun atē simply as ‘mistake’ and the verb aâsthai as ‘making a mistake’. In the verses that are being covered in this general comment, here are the occurrences of aâsthai in the sense of ‘make a mistake’ and functioning as the verb that matches the noun atē: I.19.091, I.19.095, I.19.113, I.19.129, I.19.136, I.19.137. In juridical terms, atē can refer either to a mistake that you made or to the damages that you have to pay to remedy that mistake. The mistake is the cause of the damages, and the damages are the effect of the mistake. And, since atē can refer either to the cause or to the effect of the mistake, it can be personified as a malevolent goddess Atē who presides over the whole process of cause-and-effect. That is why Agamemnon can say that I am not aitios ‘responsible’, but Zeus and his entire divine apparatus are responsible, since they inflicted on me the goddess Atē. In effect, the goddess Atē made me do it. In the verses that are being covered in this general comment, here are the occurrences of atē/Atē: Ι.19.088, Ι.19.091, Ι.19.126, Ι.19.129, I.19.136. Agamemnon has more to say about the personified Atē: this goddess had once upon a time caused even Zeus himself to make a big mistake. That mistake resulted in the epic traditions about Hēraklēs, to be analyzed in the comment on I.19.95–133. But, happily for the gods, Atē no longer lives in Olympus: she was thrown out of there by Zeus for having caused him to make a mistake, and she landed on Earth, where she could now cause trouble only for us humans. We are the ones who make mistakes, while the Olympians no longer make mistakes—now that Atē cannot go back to Olympus. I see at work here a theological fact of life: in the age of myth, gods used to make mistakes, but not today in the age of ritual.
Agamemnon addresses his fellow warriors here as therapontes (plural) of Ares. In contexts where the plural therapontes in combination with Arēos ‘of Ares’ is applied to the Achaeans=Danaans=Argives as a grouping of warriors, the deeper meaning is more evident than in other contexts.
Instead of competing with Achilles as a public speaker, Agamemnon says that all he wants to do now is to make Achilles an offer.
Agamemnon says that he will say a mūthos, and the word occurs twice here: I.19.084, I.19.085. As Richard Martin (1989) has shown, this word as used in Homeric poetry means ‘wording that is spoken for the record’. Thus mūthos “is a speech-act indicating authority, performed at length, usually in public, with a focus on full attention to every detail” (Martin 1989:12). Another example of mūthos occurs at I.19.107, where it is Zeus who says something for the record, ‘wording spoken for the record’. In Homeric terms, 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. In short, any mūthos that is quoted in Homeric poetry must be real because it is supposedly spoken for the record by Homer himself. The modern word myth, derived from post-Homeric uses of the word mūthos, has obviously veered from the Homeric meaning (HQ 119-125, 127-133, 152).
According to Agamemnon, the myth about Hēraklēs has been used against him by the Achaeans. But he will now try to use the same myth to excuse himself.
Agamemnon in claiming that it was not he but rather Zeus together with his divine apparatus that can be held aitios ‘responsible’ for the mistake that resulted in what is narrated in the Iliad. Zeus is well aware of such claims, as we will see when we read the comment on O.01.32–34.
The word atē, which I have been translating as ‘aberration’ or ‘derangement’ or even ‘mistake’ in the general comment on I.19.076–138, is both a passive experience, as described here by Agamemnon, and an active force that is personified as the goddess Atē, as we see later, starting at verse 91. See again the general comment on I.19.076–138.
The application of the epithet Dios thugatēr ‘daughter of Zeus’ to the personified Atē as goddess confers on her an Olympian status here, despite her impending demotion from Olympus.
The epic narrative about Hēraklēs, as retold here by Agamemnon, would never have happened if Zeus had not made a mistake, as indicated by the verb aâsthai ‘make a mistake’ at I.19.095, also at I.19.113. This verb, as I noted in the comment on the overall passage, I.19.076–138, corresponds to the noun atē, which I originally translated there as ‘aberration’. To say it more formally, then: the epic narrative about Hēraklēs resulted from an aberration on the part of Zeus, who was deceived by his divine wife Hērā. Call it what you will, Zeus made a big mistake. He inadvertently allowed it to happen that Hērā, who is normally the goddess in charge of perfect timing in the cosmos, threw off the timing for the birth of Hēraklēs, so that the hero’s cousin Eurystheus was born earlier and thus became king instead of Hēraklēs. Even though Hēraklēs was by far superior as a hero, he was now by birth forever socially inferior to Eurystheus, and throughout his life he was obliged to undertake seemingly impossible tasks that were imposed on him by his malevolent cousin. But Hēraklēs prevailed in performing these tasks, which became the famed Labors of Hēraklēs, as indicated by the programmatic word aethloi ‘labors’ at I.19.133, and these Labors conferred on Hēraklēs a poetic kleos ‘glory’ that became the epic tradition of Hēraklēs. It is these same epic traditions that Agamemnon is now retelling. This retelling, it must be added, is subversive. In the very act of retelling the epic narrative about Hēraklēs, Agamemnon is inadvertently undermining his own status: just as Eurystheus was socially superior but heroically inferior to Hēraklēs, so also Agamemnon is socially superior but heroically inferior to Achilles. One big question still remains about this whole epic narrative: why is the name of Hēraklēs connected to the name of Hērā, who was the direct cause of the the social inferiority experienced by the hero? Why does the “speaking name” (nomen loquens) of Hēraklēs have the meaning ‘he who has the glory [kleos] of Hērā’? The answer is evident: if it had not been for the intervention of Hērā, Hēraklēs would never have had to perform his Labors, and, if it had not been for these Labors, he would never have won the kleos or poetic ‘glory’ that was his to keep forever. We see here the positive side of myths about antagonism between immortal and mortal, divinity and hero.
See the comment on I.02.658.
The wording of Zeus hides the fact that Hēraklēs was fathered directly by him.
analysis of Agamemnon’s apology to Achilles in the context of the exchange process in I.19, where the compensation to Achilles is placed in the middle and thus is a distribution by the group, not a gift from Agamemnon
analysis of Agamemnon’s apology to Achilles in the context of the exchange process in I.19, where the compensation to Achilles is placed in the middle and thus is a distribution by the group, not a gift from Agamemnon, and here specifically Agamemnon’s address to Achilles
analysis of Phoenix’ speech to Achilles and atē leading to mēnis with this verse as an example (in Agamemnon’s case)
analysis of Agamemnon’s apology to Achilles in the context of the exchange process in I.19, where the compensation to Achilles is placed in the middle and thus is a distribution by the group, not a gift from Agamemnon, and here, Agamemnon’s addressing Achilles in the third person throughout
analysis of the non-formulaic eukhesthai introducing speech in this verse
in the context of analyzing eukhesthai formulas where fathers eukhomenoi about their sons (rather than the usual sons about their fathers) [MRBTP: 'ff']
in a list of secular eukhesthai indicating direct speech (introducing speech)
Agamemnon's speech about Atē in Book 19 uses a framework that is the opposite of a flyting speech: it is designed to ratify the renewed solidarity among the Achaeans. Appropriately, the speech-act he recalls to open his discourse was a neikos event, now over—the muthos which the Achaeans spoke to Agamemnon many times (19.85-86), apparently voicing their dissatisfaction with his treatment of Achilles. From this brief reference to the past, Agamemnon shifts to the present: "But I am not responsible" (19.86). Such a denial of guilt would have been an appropriate response to a flyting speech in the past. The variation shows that the neikos words still rankle in Agamemnon's mind, as he even now finds it necessary to shift responsibility—once again, Homer draws attention to Agamemnon's inept use of patterns (Martin 1993:73).
For the broader analysis of the recalled-speech strategy in flyting, see the comment on Iliad 4.336-421.
Martin, R. P. 1993. The Language of Heroes: Speech and Performance in the Iliad. Ithaca.
When we categorize each of Agamemnon's forty-six speeches according to its genre of discourse, only one originates primarily as a discourse of memory. This speech (19.91-133) remains a highly ambiguous recollection, not of personal heroism (unlike Nestor's) but of a story about Atē's influence over Zeus during the time of Herakles' birth, and it is told not to persuade his audience (again compare Nestor's recollections) but to excuse himself. Even then, the story seems ironically to put Agamemnon in a bad light, as many have noticed. Instead of the authority of memory, Agamemnon more often than not employs the threat of violence to achieve his way (Martin 1993:113-14).
It is even more ironic that the story Agamemnon recounts in Book 19 begins with Hera's determination to frustrate the public performance of Zeus: "You will speak falsely nor will you bring completion to the muthos" (19.107). Agamemnon has the same problem with bringing his muthoi to fruition. A further reference to this topic in Achilles' ostensibly commendatory speech during the funeral may be a concealed insult: he calls on Agamemnon to give the simple order for dispersal, "For the troop of Achaeans will most obey you and your muthoi" (23.156-57)—an assertion thus far not proven in the Iliad (Martin 1993:117).
For the broader analysis of Agamemnon's style, see the comment on Iliad 4.336-421.
Martin, R. P. 1993. The Language of Heroes: Speech and Performance in the Iliad. Ithaca.