Aspects of Death in Early Greek Art and Poetry (Charles J. Goodwin Award of Merit Sather Classical Lectures , No 46)

T Copyrighted material SATHER CLASSICAL LECTURES VOLtn!E FORTY-SIX ASPECTS OF DEATH IN EARLY GREEK ART AND POETRY ...

Author: Emily Vermeule

28 downloads 1458 Views 17MB Size Report

This content was uploaded by our users and we assume good faith they have the permission to share this book. If you own the copyright to this book and it is wrongfully on our website, we offer a simple DMCA procedure to remove your content from our site. Start by pressing the button below!

Report copyright / DMCA form

DOWNLOAD PDF

T

Copyrighted material

SATHER CLASSICAL LECTURES VOLtn!E FORTY-SIX

ASPECTS OF DEATH IN EARLY GREEK ART AND POETRY

ThJ.IIS

One

1111~

'd-

a

Copyrighted material

ASPECTS OF DEATH IN EARLY GREEK ART AND POETRY

. Emily Vermeule

UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA PRESS BERKELEY, LOS ANGELES, LONDON

Copyrighted material

(:Al.lf()RSIA ()NIVt-RSI'I'\' Of (:,U .JfORNIA r•R£SS, L'ro. lO~OO~'.

P.Nt:I.ASO

(;('J I'\'Rf{:fl'l' @ '1'111?. IU)(ll~ ~1~

o.: T ile

1979

BY

UNIVERSJ'I'\' Of' CA I..IfOR NIA

~I:RS 'I' J•APf: JWACK PAIN'J'LO,:(: 198 1 ll!.hS

O·!j.~ CI-O.J40.J·$

llliRA RY OF OOS(l Rf:!tS <:Al'At.OC: CARD S tJ.WBlUt.: l'ki:O.~I"£1)

76·.)5.)73

1:0.' '0 1.6 ltS I'rED S'I'A'I't:S 0 11 At.Ul M.ICI\

Copyrighted material

For RHYS CARPEN TER

and LILY ROSS TAYLOR

Copyrighted material

"0 exceedingly painstaking, bot nevertheless highly inoppornme Kai Lung," he replied at length, while in his countenance this person read an expression of noencouragement towards his venture," all your entrancing efforts do undoubted ly appear to attract the undesirable

attention of some spiteful and tyrannical demon. This closely written and elabord.tely devised work is in reality not \VOrtb the labour of a single stroke, nor is there in all Peking a sender fortJt of printed leaves who would encourage any project connected with ils i$$ue." ERNEST BRA»AH, Th Wall# 'If Kai Lung

Copyrighted material

CONTENTS PREFACF. ix ABBRFVIATJONS

I

x jjj

CRE ATURES OF T HE DAY: mE STUPID DEAQ

II DEATH IN THE BRONZE AGE: A HOUSE IS NOT A HOME 4 2

m

THE HAPPY HERo

sa

IV IMMORTALS ARE MORTAL 1 MORTALS IMMORTAL I 18 V

ON THE \ \IJNGS OF THE MORNING: THE PORNOGRAPHY OF DEATH 145

VI SEA MONSTERSt MAGIC, AND POETRY 179 N00'£S

?

I I

GLOSSARY 2)3 REFERENCES FOR ILLUSTRATIONS

255

BW IIOGRAfHlfS 26 1

General

!>ti t

C~metnits,

Burial Rilt..s. I.Uld f.amttUation.s

26~

SWai, Grat-e J\fonumenu. frutriptions z63 Attic J·Vhite Lelq•thoi and Thwu:s o(Death in Painting 1165

J.\ 1,.wraean Burial PracliuJ 261

Early War[ore and Dt.alh in Batik 266 SELECT INDEX 267

vu

Copyrighted material

Copyrighted material

PREFACE WHEN the Department of Classics at Berkeley honored me with an invitation tO give the Sather Classical Lectures in 1975, the chairman expressed a hope that the lectures could be illustrated, which was not usually done, and that, while remaining within the prescribed confines of c lassical literature or history, the theme might combine lite rature and art. Initially de.ath seemed a promising subjectJ for one who had cleaned a few skeletons a nd wondered about l.hem, since archaeology provided so many views ofgraves and funeral gifts, and Greek poets were fond or talking a bout death in certain moods. T here had been no general book about the Greek view of death in English, for only Ge•·man scholars have published consistently and well in this field since the days of Lessing a nd Furtwangler; Erwin Rohde's magnifice nt P$J-che remained the model of insight and documentation, and the works published in German by scholars of several European nations, such as Bickel, Bruch, Drexler, Eitrem, Heinemann, Lcsky, Malten, Nilsson, Otto, Radermacher, Robert, Schwenn, Stengel, Waser, \Veickcr and VVie,s ner were the standard auth orities. Three fine new books covered aspects of the subject of death with style and a wealth of factual material-DoDlla K urtz and John Boardman's Greek Buri4/ Cu.slomt (1 97•), Walter Burkert's Homo Necans ( t972), and Margaret Alexiou's T!te Ritual Lammi in Gmk Tradition ( 1974). At first it seemed possible to put together six lectures with pictures out of the enormous source material, and yet the whole broad theme of death proved surprisingly recalcitraot. Pictures taken in cemeteries refused to come out, references were found but more often lost, and attempts to put even a rbitrary order upon the chaotic material dissolved into imprecise whirls of confusion. The lectures were illustrated in greater detail than the princed version could possibly be, but an attempt to rewrite them to be more independent of art and archaeology was unsuccf'..ssful. Yt:t Greek pot:ts and Gree k artists refused to cooperate with each other and both were disdainful of Greek graves. Greek poets did not care for bones, apart from tasteful collections of white bones which had lost their thumos or might be seen rolling lost in the salt sea. T hey seldom mentioned graves or cemeteries o r funcr.:tl processions; a fi::w tragic passages mentioned mourning at the tomb or liba tions or cut locks of hair, but not e nough to sustain six lectures. In any c.ase, the fifth century was developing a different view ot: and sentiments about, de-ath than the preceding three centuries, and to examine the philosophical a nd literary alterations in Athens after 450 :a.c. seemed inappropriate for a prehistodc archaeologist.. The artists, with the exception of a group of late black-figure vase-painters, were usually, and naturally, more struck by the mythological than the practical aspects of death, and this seemed the best meeting ground. It would have been hard to illustrate the usual poetic gnomai-weep, do not weep, life is short, death and old age arc lX

Copyrighted material

X

PREFACE

coming-at Ic..t at the quick pace which has come to be expected of the contemporary slide lecture. As the two sides of Greek talent came together in the mythological world of death the)' agteed upon the wounding and slaughter of legendary heroes, glimpses of psyche and tidolon, some figures of the underworld (but not its landscape), Hermes, Persephone, Kerberos, Sisyphos, Charon after the Persian \ Vars, an occasional Hades. There was the usual army of winged daimons, Sphinx, Siren, Harpy, Eos and Eros,. Sun and Night, Sleep and Death, who may have helped to illustrate some points bm lent an unncrvingly airy and insubstantial quality to their documentation. The need to iUustrate a lso caused the summary treatment o f many proper topics- the bones of heroes and thcil' oracles, sacrifices to the dead, mysteries and initiation, cbthonic aspects of Demeter and Dionysos, ghosts and dreams and the careers of fearless tomb~ robbers. \Vhat remains is a derivative and arbitrary selection of aspects: of Greek death in terms of artistic documents and familiar passages which could be combined (and which could likely be recombined in a more order!)' wa y b y others). · The attempt to limit the discussion to the early period o f Greek poetry and art was also prompted by a feeling of uneasiness about proper method in this field, where it has a lways been customary to serve up a Homeric tag, a passage of Euripides, a rcd·figured vase, a quotation from one of the sacred Jaws of the Greek cities and a passage of Plutarch, a skelelon, a loutrophoros, a lckythos, a od some lines of C icr.ro and Demos[hcnes, and co caU the mixture "what the G reeks thought about death." After four years of reading I still do not know what the Gl."eeks thought about death, or what Americans think either, or what I think myself. lkrkeley facult)' members showed me the little cemetery at Saint Helena, with a grand simple tombsto ne of wood- oak, to last so long?carved ''To Dan (rom his friends in the circus t86o." They never knew his full name, but missed a nd remembered him, the theme of these lectures. Don Marquis' "Lines for a Gravestone" are appealing in a different direction: Speed, I bid )'OU, speed the earth O nward with a show of mirth, Fill your eager eyes with light, Put my face and memory O u t of mind and out of sight. Nothing I have caused or done, But this gravestone-, meets the sun. Friends, a great simplicity Comes at l..t to )'OU and me. Prefaces to Sather Lectures arc always remarkable for their expressions of gratitude toward the Department of ClassiC$. Lecturers recall their brief visit as

Copyrighted material

PREFACE

XI

being among the happier episodes of their lives. Particular thanks go to Professor and Mrs. Thomas G. Roscnmeycr for hospitality, library training, and a willingness to discuss the souls of California seaJs; to Profes.sor and ·M rs. J. K. Anderson for broad teaching, ranging from the Fccjcc mermaid to the perils of hunting ,.,.jfd boar from horseback; to Professor and ~rfrs. Ro nald Stroud for glimpses of family life; to Professors D. A. Amyx, J. Dillon, C. Greencwalt, C. Murgia, and W. K. Pritchett ('•ho supplied the Dionysiac element missing in the lectures) ; and to Professor D. Brinckerhoff of Riverside, who, in an emcrgenC}', showed the slides for the final lecture at a temperature only an archaeologist could endure. In the department, Mrs. Marjorie Kaiser and Miss Mary Thomsen were q uietly invaluable. At the University of CalifOrnia Press I would like to express wannest thanks to Al~gust FrugCl then Director, for constant courtesy and good humor, to Susan Peters for setting standards, and to Stephen Hart for correcting hundreds of blunders with re~ markable tact. At t.hc Museum of Fine Arts, Boston, Cornelius Vermeulc and Jock GiU prepared ne'"' brilliant slides of many Boston objects; KriStin Anderson, Mary Comstock a1~d Florence \Volsky were invaJuable; Edward Brovarski and T imothy Kendalrspent hours on my education. At Harvard University I owe a great deal to Glen Bowcrsock,.Louis·c De Giacomo, Albert Henrichs, Gregory Nagy,Julict Shclmcrdine, and Calvert \Vatkins. A number of institutions have provided photographs and informatiOn: my thanks to The American School of Classical Studies, Athens, and C. \•Villiams; the Athens National Museum and B. Philippaki; the Basel Museum and E. Berger; the BibliothCquc National, Paris; the British Mus.eurn and A. BirchaH; the Danish National Museum in Copenhagen and M. L. Buhl; the German Archaeological Institute in Athens and ll. Schmaltz; the Greek Archaeological Service and T. Spyropoulos, I. Tzedakis; the Metropolilan Museum of Art in New York andj. :Mertens; the Mus~e de Lausanne; the MusCe du Louvre; the Pierpont Morgan Library in New York; the Trustees of the Mount Auburn Cemetery in Cambridge, Massachusetts; the Martin von \rVagner ~{useum in \\o'iirzburg and E.. Simon. Among ind ividuals I would like tO thank particularly J. Boardman, M. Caskey, A. Greifenhagen, T. Jacobsen, V. Karageorghis, S. Karouzou, M. Lefkowitz, J. Mellaart, D. and M. Ohly, N. Schimmel, Lord \Villiam Taylour. ~bs. Samuel Thorne, and Blake and Adrian Vermeule for letting me go and being glad to see me back.

Copyrighted material

Copyrighted material

LIST OF ABBRE VI ATIONS Homer's Iliad and Ot(ysSQ' are cited

\\~thout

title. in upper case roman numerals for

the Iliad, e.g., XXII.4 16 is Iliad Book 22 line 416; a l\d in lower case numerals for the Od;·suy, e.g., v. 1 1 is Od;•ssty Book 5 )inc t 1 . Fragments of the Greek Jyrlc poets arc cited with D. for E . Diehl, Anlhologia L;rica Cra~c4 ( 1936) and P. for D. L. Page, P(Jttae 1\1tli'i Crar.ci ( rg62). AA

AAA ABV Abhlkrl A6JrGiiu AbltMaillt

AJA

AM Alcxiou, lAment A.ndi'Onikos, Tl)ttnlwlt A.N£Tf! AJtii'Uari.o

Ant!JPal AnJK Anzlf'int APdW Ar(./ICIDis Anhj/U/

Ardltio/(lgiuher Anzeiger Atltms A,mals of Ardlgiselwt lrulituts, .4tl:rni.s.cl~.t .4btril1Jng ~l. Alexiou, The Ritual L(lm~nz in Gru!.: Tr<:rlition ( 197-t) M . Andronikos. T9tmkull. Aul!arol4glo Homtrka W (ag68) J. B. Pritchard (ed.}, tlnt.t'l?tl NtaT &sllrn Ttxts2 ( 1955) An11Uorio dtlla R. S(uo/a Auhwkgita Ji A:mt The PalatiN Ant.lwl.ogy ( Tht Gruk Antholog)') tl.ntikt KII.IU( .41'1ztigtt do .4J:adtrnit t!tr WiJ~nschtiftrn, Wict, Phil.·hist. h7as.u

A_rch{lit ARJI2 Athens NM

Abl!tmdlrmgttt drr pnussi.Jth.m Akadmrie Jn Wiumsdtaftm Clr:w'ea Arehit? fiir Rdigiontutisstns.dulft tlrehuologia HmnnittJ ArtJtiiologistJtt <.~ilung J. 0. Bl"~u;ley~ Atti~ Rtd-Figure JI(J.St~Pointm'J (1g63} National AJ'(;haeological Museum. Athens

BA&sdt

Bulldi11

ArthH~>m

BCH BICS BIFAO BLJmd

BM BMMA BMFtl BStt Burkert, H..V BVSAW

Au~logia

t'"(lJt rkr ''uttniging t.Ql &,VJrd«rill.f dn Kmnis t.l(lJt dt Antitkt Htstl!at•ing Hulldin d4 «JrWfNJrulanu Ju!Uniqut 81dlltin qf thl lnslitult (If Clauicol StrtditJ "!1M Uni~'tTsil)' "! lAwlM 8u1Min Je l'lrtslliul /taltfai; J'tJT(Jr.iologU rm#nlak Bulltlin de Ia Socitti rfJJOI~ de !dtres dt Lund British Museum Bulltrin Qj the MdrojJQ/il.tut MUJ~mt of Arl

BuJJdin of th~ iHuse.111t1 if Fi'fl4 Arts, Boskm A11nual
Bniehte ilbrr di1 Vt-rhnJu:llungtn rkr Sii&hsischm AMdemir. rlt-r WiJmuchqftln Zll

Ltipzig

BWI~

lfplin 11'inektlmnnlt5prqgromm

C-ll

L. D. CaskC)' and j. 0. Beazley, AUit Vase Painlin.g.s in lht Mu.stum of Pint Aru, BoJtt»t, l ( tg;p }, 11 ( 1954}. I ll ( 1g63) J>. Chantrainc, 1Jieti411.1U'Jire lt)rrJttiqgiqur de Ia lansue tru~ ( 1g68-1976)

Chantraine, Dictimmaire C)

CP

CQ

CR CI'A

Claui~11l ]wmal CI~J~Sir.al PiriiQ/QO

Classi(tJl Quarltrl;· C/o.ssi(ol&vitw Corpus VO$Ortl.m Anliqoorum

XIII

Copyrighted material

XIV

ABBREVIATIONS

Ddtion Dtllt/()pmntt

Mpxo:c.o.\oycK011 .::1U..1'lov

J . D.

Dic,erich, NJ:yia':!

Beazley, Tlu Dtt~lfJ/JIYII:nt of Attie L<:ctUrC$ 24 (19~1 ) A. Dieterich, ;V,~,·iq.2 (191 3}

0-K

H. Dieb, W. Kranlz, Dil FrQlwnll dtT Vor,..,atikn' (1954)

DMR

StuditJ in Hvnor qf D1.11Jid J\1. Robinson (195 1, 1953) E. R . Dodds, 1M Gruks and tlu Irrational, Sather Classical L«tur($

Dodds: lrralionol

Bl~k -Figur6,

Sather Cla.ica1

25 (19!i')

Eitrem: Opfmi.IJJs EpM"h Er~n

Fairbanks, AWL f'arnell, Cults F itLsehen, Sognl(/oNUJimy:m

F-R f'riz.er, f>ausanid.f Fri3k,

WtYru~bU&!J

S. Eitrern. Opfm-itus lnUI V()rQjlfn dtr Gri«km und ROrrur (1915)

}lpx•••Mr<-'1 '&hP.
TO •Epyov~r Apxcuo.\oyurijs 'E.,atptlas

A. Fairbanks, Athenian JV!t.i.u L«_-,tlwi I {1907}, II {1914} L . R. farndl, The Cults of tM Cutk St41~s ( t8g6-1909) K. f:itucbcn, UtdnJUthwtgm O::#'Rt Btginn tkr SogmdmsJ~llrmgP' Dei den Gri«hm (1969) A. Furtwiingler, K. Re ichhold, Gmchi.scht l'IIJt.Mudtui {1904-32) j . G. Fraur: Pausonias• D~scrip:ioN if Grttct ( 18g6) · H. f'riJtk, Cri«hi.uks ~1)'11WrogiJdo.ts ~llOrte.thudt ( 1954-72)

GouGtiAnz

CQ/tingiuhe ge.~hrU Anze.ig~n

G-L

B. Gr.\ef, E. Langlotz~ Die anliktn l'4St.N ~'114 dtr AlcropoJis a Atlwt

GRJJS

(19>!>-33} Gruk, Rouum ami By,canlint Stud~s

Hampe, (;rtJbf:md Harril!or:J, Prokgomtnn H,..pcls, A.BL HThR

R. Hampe, Ein/riihaii!Mhu Cru/wvf ( 196o} Hnrrit~on, Pu;Je.gome.M Jq I~ StJid,J q{Gmk Rtligifm ( 1908) C. E. 1:1. Haspels, Atlle &u..k-figuud Llkyth~i ( 1936) l<.. ffcincm3.nn1 TltiJnllliJS in PtMsi~ wtd Kuis dtr Crittlwt (1913) UiuBard StudUJ in Cl&JU:.a/ Philalrtq Han:ard '11wJ/qgiutl Reoit.w

IG

lnscriptionu Graaae

JARCE Jdl JEA

Jalttb~Kil

Heinemann, 'rMnatQt

HSCP

JHS K-B Karo, Sr.ir«htgrObu KmJmeiMt

Km:u:e, Srltildbtiru!n Lattimore, Tlrlmtt

LGS

J.

Journa/4}' the. Ameriean k4u1Jrth Ctnttr i.rt f!.gypt lks dndsd:m arr.llii
Journal qJ Eg;ptitut ArthatoWgJ· Journal of Htl/.enU Studiu D. Kurtz:, J. Boardman, Cruk Bttrial Cttstom.t (1971) G. Karo, DU Scluuhtgriibt.r v.m .M,Jknwi (1931)-o33) K . KUbler, KrrM~eikw V,t, Dit N#krqpo/# dts 10. his 8. Jolrrhundnts (1954); K"nmtilos Vl,1, DU Nekr()fr;ll du $JMUn 8. hls1,aJwt 6. JahrhwultrtJ (1959) ; Vl ,!l (1970) E. Kun.te, Ol,ympUtlu F~ttsch'Urllm I I: Arcilnischu Schi.JJbirukT ( 1950)

R . Lattimore, Tlrmrl1 in Gruk wu1 LAtilt Epitaphs, Illinois StadUs in Longt«~gl and Liu ratu" 28 { 1942) D. L. Page, L;'fit4 Gr04'ea Stl«la (1g68)

MDOG

Miurilungtn dn drul$thnt Oriml· Cm.Jbduifl

Mellink-Filip, FSK

M. Mellink, J. Filip, FriiJr, Sb.ifm der K1111SI, Prop;•JIMJJ Kurutguchichu 13

MFA M tmAnl

M\1.\C'um of Fine Arts, Boston MMJJrrt41'1:ti Anlidti

Mus.Htlrt

M~m

MWPr

Marlnug" WintUlmtJ1UUjwozramm

( 1 974)

Hdtltlicum

Copyrighted material

ABBR£Vl,\TIONS

XV

A. N"uck, TrQZitDnmt GuutiJntm Frt1f!MlttJ3 ( 1889) M. P. l'iit.on, GtKMrJctt l11 Grit.tlu'.~tlw lblilitm' ( 19~5) M.P. Ni.l.uont Tlu Mi~A(1tlnnt4niU/igiq~~ 2 (1950) Not•'z.il JttU St11lll di A.ltliditd:

r;•

Nilsson, GGR'% Nilsson, MMR' J(S<

O]A OpAI/o Op/00

]Mn~

Ju lllmfldisdu• (IT(~Ii..sdtnJ IMtitui.J

Ot$<1

M . P. Ni.....,,

Oxi'"t

0~.1*"'"

P.,./1-

J.D. Btuley, P••l.,._.,,., AJ,/itit#N 10 AttiL Bl.d·Fizvu V4M'-Ptri1tlns

O;.uarl• At.lr.mimn4

O,..,.UR,_

o,_w. S.IKu ( o~o~)

p_,;

..- t. Attic Rttl·Ftpt VCM-P~~ ( 1971) W . Peek, Criclloocll< Vm·l~ I ( 19;;) 0. L. Past, p.,.., Mtlki C•O«i ( tg62)

P
PMC

npu>M,...;, •e...p
PrdbiU

Prwpmw

Ha_,. ( 1937)

/Uf>o~ """ ~""'"' .rAMifodrw

RDAC RE REG

Rei.ner, TOltlrl;l4lt &cA.rt::h

Rtc.v1 du &,.tfa Andf.lfiMI lltrw Jt, pltilolotll, d1 J(tfifatlltt tt J'hiltoirt MUinu~.l

Rr.>EtAn< /U.v.Phil RkM. Rieder, WCL Robetl, 17wutW R6m'Mftt

.

Rohde, Psy
.rcnnu

W. '\"On Pauty, C. Wbtowa, /WI.-&t;JcklplidU. tin kliUJi.J.thnl Al.t.trtfiiJUu.'-s
Muullm /ir PhUolozk W. RiC"tl tr, lVtiSJI"'Mi.&' auiul&e Llk)vht-n ( 1914) C. Robert, T/uoNJIOS (1679) ' · MiUtilltltJ;tJt d'.J tlt111Jfll'-" 4tdlllolotiltiiiJI bulihiU, Rimistk Abttibmg E. Rohde, Plflht', 1ran11. W, 8. Hillis ( 1 9~5) W. H. Roeeher, A~ifiJiirlttllu Ll.xikM dn griuliisthln wul rOmisdwJ M.>·ll~/ogit ( •814" ' 937)

soomu. SBUp
Sill.lmgsWritllt~ tltr Akadtmll titr WiJ~nschoflm, B"lin Sit:tmgsbtritlttt tin Akatltmit tftr Wis.rtmd~tifl•n. Lrif1z.ig SiltrtJtgilmkllil dtr Aluultmit J~r Wiul'ttlehqfltm, Mtlf'tllwt Sitl.urttlbttitltr• Jn AkntUmit rkr Wis.tm.rtNiflclt, H1im l'. Slcngel, Dit t rittAiultl KultwaltnWmn ( 1920) P'. Ste11gd, OpfnllrtiUtthl d~r Critdln1 ( 1910)

S.J""60sl

s,m~IM

TUA TUS

TraltJ4t(lionJ f/ tl*' AltatritNt Pllilol4tital A.uodatWrt TtfiltU4ftliorU qf 1/u Anvrit•n PhiloupJtict~l Sodt.t7

O.s/tHnlll

Yas~is/4:.

F. Bromm~r. VC~MnliJu

Vurncu.Le, GOA

£.

Weieker,~l

Wianc:r, Gt.JI .,.,/ ]INS4ils Wilamowiu, Gt.IH IVYDOG

.{,!&5

Q'E

Vum~uJtt,

C. Wcicw,

.:MT ,WAittltln fl.ti~t:r~*

CffK• l11 tlv

Blfl4~•

(1973)

A,_ ( 196-t)

rm s..t.m.,.t (190")

J. Wiesner, Gr•• MM]nwiu (1938) U. von \\'"il:amowitz · ~loc:Ucndor1r. Di4 Cln'bt tkr Hdlmnt ' (19$) W'""""-'4/UIW Vnf.f<>oot;,._,.. Jn 4>4tll
Qiutltrjflftt I{JitUtfW Spo.W w A q/sldiTjflfw P~ ...t ~.pllilt

ed rra

a

Copyrighted material

I CREATURES OF THE DAY: THE STUPID DEAD 0 me, why have they not buried me deep enough? Is it kind to ha\'C made me a grave so rough, Me, that was never a quiet sleeper? Maybe <~ill I am but half-dead; Then I cannot be wholly dumb. AI.PRF.I)~ LOR.D TP.N:NYSON,

Maud xi

A PANORAMrc survey of death in early Cre,c k culture is not a sensible under· takirlg. The adventure into the grave and the underworld clearly needs some limits, for death is as protean as life or love. One natural limit for a classicist. exploring death is lack of experience. T he witnesses who might supply direct evidence have simple fauJtc; : the skeletons are mute, the painters and poets adopt peculiar tones, and the old explorers who managed to die twice and teU us about it, the clever Greek distlwneu, produced tales which may be treated with some rcscrvc. 1 The dead themselves, or parts of them, are not at all fugitive. The earth's crust is filled with them, in the forms of bones, dust, oiJ, monuments, memories, myth-with different techniques of access. On the physical side it is easy to disturb them and to learn how the human race has cared to bury its dc:ad in the past. Artists recorded the ceremonial gestures of grief, and the forms of funeral. Poets created the images of love and longing, and views of another land where the dead might still move and talk in a persistent weak imitation of life. \Vhcn the different kinds of evidence and testimonies about death in the Greek , ...·aridabout body and soul, about the grave and the underworld, about mortality and immortality, loss and creativity-arc drawn together, it is entirely natural that they should COrlflict and refuse to be drawn into any easy harmol.'lil)tas picture.

M ore than any other experience, death engenders uncertain feelings and confused thoughts. Life and death arc the most obvious opposites, even to children, and the most obvious un.ity, io untutored instinct as well as in old poetic and religious tradition: irreconcilable principles insistently held together like twins in a nurse's arms. In this naturally illogical sphere, where body and soul Jead separate but linked live~ and deaths, Greek logic was only gradually and precariously applied, with minimal succcss.2 From HcrakJeitos to Lucian, I

Copyrighted material

CREATURES OF THE DAY

whenever reason was brought to bear u pon the unknowable, a sense of seJf.. mockery was produced which, almost inevitably, cured itself o nly by slipping sideways into mytl,ical fantasy, where opposites are so often congenial. It is nearly impossible to recreate any general "Greek view of death," although Greek practical behavior when confronted with death is well known, and was not very different from practice in ocher cultures. Early Greeks cook death extremely seriously, as we aU do. If they were less elaborate in their ceremonies and less optimistic in their beliefs than the Egyptians, perhaps less cre.ativc in ritual than the Hittites, they still had powerful emotjonal and religious fCclings about burying the dead, for which there is the most persuasive and moving evidence in Greek epic and tragedy. A significant part of their artistic energy was focused oo rhernes of death, and on burial as a partial solution to the problems of death. "Buria l " is used hen!, perhaps wrongly, as a general term for the permanent disposal of a corpse.3 It docs not seem to aff'<.-ct either ceremony or views of the afterlife, whether the corpse was put dressed d irec tly in the ground, or \\•as burned on a pyre with the ashes and bones collected later. Students of Greek culture have long t ried ~o dclcct d iB'crcnccs in how the different generations understood the ftS)'the or the soma according to whether the prevailing fashion was to bury or burn. It does not scetn to matter; any form of burial marks the family or community action which transfers the body to a new state of be longing, aod the absent element of individuality called the /JS)dte always is absent, and so "elsc,vhere." The ideas about what happens when someone dies arc too deep to be affected by pliysical techniques of disposal, just as they extend beyond the

limits of languages and cultures wh!ch may modifY them. A death is not completed in an instanL The Greek dead were translated to a new sphere by a long transitional passage wbiclt was marked Out by severaJ clear stages. 'W hether thC pcrson1 s n ew "house n was an ash urn of goo s.c. with

a "killed" sword wrapped around it, or a child's sarcophagus of 400 n.c. filled with little vases, there car\ be little doubt that the processes of establishing him safel}' there were practic8lly the same. The Greek tradition of burial has been, to our eyes, the longest-surviving and most powerfUl of aU Creek traditions; i1. scarcely changed between the later Bronze Age and the Hellenistic world, and apart from the intervention of the church into private conduct is nearly un~ changed today. Funerals in most cultures have points of similarity, since the basic work to be done is the same. The body from which an e.c;sential element has dcpaned, and which is itself no longer stable or quite clc-.an, must be cleaned and prepared and dressed ; the family and larger c1all must come together, the grief felt for one whose absence depl'ives them of familiar comforts must be lifted froni the heart by gesture and mourning, with public and private fare,...·ells. There must be a processional

escort to the burial place, a permanent separation of the group from the

Copyrighted material

CREATURES OF Tl:IE DAY

Fro.

1

Ao;h urn with "killed" sword :

Geometric Grave, Athens e. 900 B.c.

3

FIG. 2: Child's sarcophagus: Athens> c. 400 n.c.

visible body, which is concealed or dispersed, and replaced, in a sense, by a tombstone or a mound.• There is a ptactical control of cerernonies meant for

purification and family unity, and whatever further support, from time to time, the dead family member is thought to need. The ceremony of burial confirmed the value of the efforts a man had made during his lifetime, and in some way

released him from any further efforL What cultured Greek individuals really thought about death is hidden from us except through literary interpretation. The Solonian legislation against excessive mourning is guarantee that the ceremonial aspects of burial in archaic Atl1ens were protracted, expensive, and enjoyable to aristocrats. A good funeral has always been a lot of fun, a reunion stirring open emotions and bringing news to exchange, the periodic intersection of the family, the dan, and the city. Beyond behavior, private thoughts are harder to discover, except as they were

like our own. Statements on tombstones of the archaic period are not sentimental; the family is provd of the deceased and will mi$$ him. There is no other

real source for individual thoughts except poetry, which is surely atypical. By tradition a Greek poet expressed outrage and restlessness when a body of a friend or a hero stayed unburied, rolling in the waves at sea or played with by dogs and birds on land. VVhen he sang of the "soul,'' or individuality, or memory of the dead his feelings. were less certain; and, like a swan, he used

tones different from his ordinary voice. Greek death poetry often deceives us with its ornamental wit, a kind of formal black humor which is in itself a

Copynghted r1atenal

4

CR£ATUR£S OF TH£ DAY

familiar defense against de-ath. The singer a bout death plays with an ironic sense of defic.ic.ncy. He may tempt us to thi nk that, if we understand him, we understand Greek ideas about death, although it. is in fact unlikely tha t he knows any more than the rtst of us.

The Greek poet's concern ·with death was at once practical and mythical. Some form of poetry was ntcc:ssary to launch the de-ad on their way, the mourning song which relieved the living and confirmed the excellence of the de-.ad, the threnru, goos, ialemos, a choral of family. The s imple evocative phrases

we know- <~you were my dearest child ... ," "you were kind to me . . . "are d esigned to assure the dead person that he has been loved and will still be loved, and that memory ofbim iS vivid wh.ile his family lives. This memory is freshened both by attendance at his burial place and by repeated narrative of his past words and actions. l n this direction, the practical and mythical coincide, for an obvious part of the poet's work is to keep the past, that is the dead, alive by quotation and interview. Even the most moc king and " d isillusioned ,. poet will malntail\ this illusion. u 0 Char-idas," Kallimachos calls down in a famous epigram, uhow's the Underworld?" "Very dark." "And the wa}'S up?" " A lie." " Pluto?, "A myth., "You kill me."!I Even in his decc.ptive detachment, Kallirnachos is posing as a new Odysseus, in terviewing the dead to gain experience. This is in some sense a poet's basic work. Poets, critics, historians, archaeologists, artists spend their working lives as necromancers, raising the dead in order to enter into their imagina tions and experience, an ordinary and probably necessary human pastime.

The Underworld which Kallimachos visits in literary p lay to consult the dead is a world we think of as having been established by Homer, and probably a ncient in tradition long before him. \Vc are familiar with the dark and danger· ous way down, the c rossing of ocean or passage through a lake or cave to reach it, where roaring or fiery rivers hammer on a rock underground ;8 where Charon in his ferry will take the dead across the final stretch of water to join the other cou.ntless crowds of weakened a nd impalpable shades, guarded by Kerberos in their asphodel meadow; where a gate or stomion refuses exit; a nd where Hades and Persephone sit on their thronf'.s or watch from their porch a scene of restless confrontations or pitiable mourning, with g limpses of judges and sinners in the distance, in a darkened landscape of d reamlike figures. In fact, many of the features which we regard as familiar aod essentially Greek in this landscape are late in making th eir a ppearance-Ch aron and his ferry do not seem to come into vogue before the second q uarter of the fifth ccntury,7 and tbe peculiar sights of the second Otlyssey Nckyia like the gates of the sun or the White Rock arc scarcely repeated at all in the tradition. The underworld which the western appreciator of t he Greeks regards as a ncient and characteristically Hellenic was unsung by any responsible poet Wore Euripides, nor synthesized in art before Polygnotos' great mid-fifth-<:entury waU-pai.n tings at Delphi.• In a sense

Copyrighted material

CREATURES OF THE DAY

5

it took the Romans.1 Vergil or the artist of the Odyssey landscapes with their trick lighting, shadow menaces, thrill of public horror, and heroe-s in a landscape too large for their courage, to give us the Greek death scene as we secretly like it,

though not as the Greeks always saw it. It is possible to discover the stages, or some ofthem, in which this underworld was composc:d, and the function which it played in satisfying Greek anxieties about death and the dead. It is possible, and necessary, to distinguish this fictitious view of the living dead from the facts which shape the real world of the grave. The d ifference between the two worlds is profound, although it may merely reflect the simple difference between what you do when death disrupts the family, and what you tell children when they ask about it. Just as the world of Kerberos and Charon scarcely influences the composition of Gre.:k grave epigrams before the later fifth century, so the poetic fictions of the afterlife scarcely appear in Greek art before 450 B.C. The exploration of the themes of death in early Greek art and poetry follows the clearest line in the first three centuries of classical development, from Homer to the Persian \\1ars or shortly after, from about 750 to 450 u.c. After that period , an influx of strange ideas and philosophic or metaphysical inconsistencies (modulated by poetic exhibitionism and religious cynicism) began to play with the old tradition, to alter it almost by individual will, to adapt it creatively to new contexts. Tbe persistence of elements of the ancient tradition and their unending capacity to c.rcate new values is noticeable on a grand scale jn Plato. The exploration of Greek behavior in the presence of death, and Greek ideas about the dead, involves many themes: the ceremony of burial, and its psychic and social function; attitudes toward the dead in their graves; the distinctions among the body, the psycht, and the eidoltm; the sinner, the hero, and the mythical dead as a source of continuing knowledge and power for the living; the dead as presented in literature and in art {necessarily different in their handling of the invisible); the kinds of fictions which the Greeks found most satisfying; the death of enemies and of friends and family members; the relations among the kingdom of liades, the Islands of the Ble»ed, and the death figures of fantasy like gorgons, sirens, Hesperides and divinities of the sea and sky; mourning, poetry and monuments; and the enormous importance of death as a path of access to the past.

Burial, Myth and Poetry Most people preserve the dead and learn from them. We like to distinguish ourselves from the simpler beasu by declaring that we are the only animals to bury our dead and so to resc.ue the past. Elephants may put branches on a dead friend, or sprinkle him v.rith dust; bears will bury another animal to ripen it for eating; dolphins hold formal mourning rites, as even cows do.• StiU, human

Copyrighted material

6

CREATURES OF TH£ DAY

speculation about death has been historically self-centered and seJf. ftattering, rejoicing in unique anguish and burden. \Vhat other animals may do has seemed unimportant) because to us they have neither history nor myth, which our dead have given us. \Vc also like to believe that we arc the only animals who know we are going to die, and who carry this secret in our imaginations ti·om childhood on. 10 The foreknowledge ofdeath, the legacy of Eden or any of the other forbidden fruits of understanding, of those moments \>Jhen we remember with surprise that we a rc not immortal, has brought with it in every culture such a brilliant variety of alleviating measures that man's capacity for invention is nowhere more beautifully displayed. It is the ego, they say, which resists death or the prospect of oblivion. Like Snoopy doomed by a n icicle, we feel we arc too young, too nice, too mt to die (fig. 3). The co nsequent €light from death is thro ugh fictions of its pleasures, and efforts to create things which may have a better chance than we of being immortal. Death is the practical source of a good deal of poetry, music, art and myth.

~T . ~TTOOif! ·

'.J

IM Til.fb

~TOO NICI1TO DIE.

Fro. 3 A creative personality resisting death. © 1960 United Feature Syndicate, Inc.

The: Greek fictions about death are not peculiar to Greece; they contain universal e lements, by necessity. The Greek view of death is no more imagi· native or potent than other peoples' vie\vs; it is typically bizarre and inconsistent, and conventional even where it seems most individual. \'\'hat is perhaps peculiar to the Greeks is the quality of their w'l"iting about death; it is the

Copyrighted material

CREATURES OF THE DAY

7

poetry, not the thinking, which bas so powerfully affected readers of G reek

literature, in versions of many languages. T he Greeks, who retained an affinity for myth-making well into the four th century o.c., agreed that everyone would die; yet they made escape clauses for a surp rising number of figures, who served as mythical models fo r the living. In t his manner the dead controlled Greek life, not only as important objects of ancestor or hero cult, but a lso through th eir role in myth and poetry and art. The Greeks are a very active dead: no living person has the power of even a minor nameless hero, whose power flows simply from the fact that he is dead and angry about it, and cannot sleep still. Not even the Great. King had the power of some of the named hel'oes, Achilles, or HerakJes or Orpheus, who lived in poetry and managed later minds, with poets a nd prophets a nd politi~ cians as their mouthpieces. These dead figures stalking through myth, history, and figured art were the major sources of me.aning for most Greeks- most human experience could be understood in their terms. As models they embodied the fear of death and the courage of facing it fran kly, of flight a nd acceptance. They were shown in scenes of mourning, of murder, of a ttack by enemies and lovers (although seldom succumbing to disease and accidcntl since their lives were to be signif•can t a nd so not trivially lost). T hey were strong ly suggestive of life after death, bo th in the way they were held in memory as active figures, and in the wa y they were often treated in cult as having the power to respond to the living. Many cultured Greeks represented themselves as anxious to get down to the underworld and talk to the fabled dead, who could illuminate the lost past and the truths of life. A surprising number of the dead, as they lived again in mythical tales, demonstrated how a man might get past his appointed day of death and destiny, the '1T€71pwp.l.,ov ·~l-liJ.p, by intelligence and the faculty of love> or at least how he might retai o a spa rk ofnous or lhumos, perception and feeling, which could help the intercourse with the other dead .

Body and Soul From the great range o f ancient testimonies about the dead a fe w elements of thought may be selected. T he G reeks made a clear distinction between body and soul, between the flesh that decayed attd must be buried, and the win dbreath p.r;•the that left the carcass and went elsewhere into a pool of personalities which could be activated by memory. T he d istinction was clearest at the moment of death itself, when from the mouth or from a wound a Httle element o r fragment of a breath or v.rind p assed, smaU and nca.rly unnoticed, from the body. Vee when the dead were considered as figures of the pa.c;t, this bit of wind grew curiously substantial. In both literature a nd cere mony we detect a fe.c ling among the early G reeks that there is a deeper concern for the body than fo r the soul, and that the body is perceived as d ouble : one stays in the grave where it

Copyrighted material

8

CREATURES OF THE DAY

retains particular powers, and one goes to the kingdom of the dead, where it can still be burt. \\'hen the Greeks considered sin at all they punished it, in the dead, in an oddly physical ma nner. 11 For a thousand years after Homer the scene of the undcn"·orld tortures of the dead in the Odyssey remained corporeal, in the absence of mpora, physical for those who had not much physique left to speak of. As Tantalos is punished with hunger a nd thirst, appetitC$ alien to the ps;
Copyrighted material

CREAT URES OF THE DAY

~,

'

7

t

9

...'

)I

")<

")>

FIO. 4

It ' ,j

I

Charon, Hermes psychopompos, and the soula of lhe dead: Auic whicc~ground Jekythos, fifth century.

know that this little element would ever be wcighcd by modern science, although its images were often weighed in Greek and Egyptian art. Now a doctor in Dusseldorf has •ucceeded in quantifying the soul by p lacing the beds

of his terminal patients on extremely sensitive scales. "As they d ied and the souls left their bodies, the needle dropped n.,enty·one grams.m" Homer's successors would have enjoyed this scientific accuracy, although dte doctor does not cell us if something like a puff of s moke went past him, ~Vn Ka1TV6s-, or if he heard any slight batlike noise. T he Greek psyche picked up qualities of strength from the Jiving individual ; its poe.tic representation had necessarily to be ambiguous. When the PSJ'tM was corporeally conceived, it was a miniature replica of the individual, endowed with wings to account for its swift daimonic flight, retaining

some powers of memory and emotion. The psy-&e often flutters near the head from which it extracts its future q ualities, or ~rchcs upon it as on the lovely Jekythos by the Achilles Painter (fig. 5),' 5 weepiog and protesting with formal mourning gesturc.._..c)v 11&,.pov yo6woo., .\moDo-'
ca.nnot be disembodied in art, a rtd is r\Ot really impalpable or witless in poetry either. The feeling that it is uJikc shadow and dream , (xi.2o7) is persistent, but "the thoughtless dead," >l #~<•s (xi.476) is a phrase more of rhetorical despair than of general community belief.

It is the ambiguous connections between the mourned and concealed body, and the mourning soul of weakened i_ncelligence and capacity, which concern us

Copynghted fTlatenal

10

CREATURES OF THE DAY

( •

Fro. 5 The:: soul mourns the body at the grave: Attic white~ground lckythos, fifth century.

first; and then the fantasies which surround both. The Greek tradition of behavior, and of creative song and painting, in t he face of death is at the core more relig ious and ceremonial than personal or psychological. The usual emphasis is on proper behavior toward the body, and not on the tendancc of unprepared or chaotic souls. There are few death-bed or sick-bed scenes before Sophokles and Euripides, few anguished soliloquies o n the fears of departing from the light. St..'ltcs of anxiety, resistance, resignation, anger and grief before death were handled all through epic, lyric and tragic poetry with varying

CREATURES OF THE DAy

11

skills, but often in general and almost trice tenns; and tlte anxieties are clustered about visions of what would happen to the body after de:uh, rather than on the state of indivjdual emotiorlS before it.

Buriol1111d Moumi11g The t\1/0 great art forms of early historical Greece, Ionic epic poetry in the east and Geometric painting in the mainland provinces of Attica, Boiotia and the Argolid, focus on burial and mourning in styles so similar, that scholars

understood they both shared an older tradition long before it could be proved. The themes of the Homeric Iliad are precisely those of Altic painting, battle by land and sea and the ceremonies for the dead. These were the old themes of the Mycenaean Greeks, and of most other Bronze Age cultures around the Meditcr· rancan. The power of the persistent conventions is clearest at Athens where the

•

Fro. 6

-/

Mourners lamenting a dead woman on her couch:

painted terracona fWlerary relief, late seventh century.

Copynghted fTlatenal

12

CREATURES OF THE DAY

dead are the great interest of the best painters in the late eighth century, on vases designed as tomb monuments and funeral gifts. 1G Along with some scenes on gold funeral strips, the paintings celebrate the mourning o f the dead, his size and beauty, the warmth of family tCcling for him, and his place in. the extended circle of those who grieve his loss and assist at his passage. As he lies on bis specia.lly prepared bed at home with the shroud lifted for a last. glimpse of his body, or is drawn toward the cemetery on a cart like one who sleeps, the members of his family, the little children, even animals, the assembled clansmen and friends dressed for both peace and war, gather to bring him small gifis, to offer him escort., and to form a mourning chorus. The painter may suggest special marks of identity, a sword hung ovtr a man's body, o r oars for a sea· faring man. There is emphasis on the sung lament, the gestures of beating the head and breast, lust.r ation, small gifts, d :-mcing and the waving of branches or rattles.J'i' This kind of family and clan mourning marked the most proper and accept· able passage toward death, relieving the survivors and assuri.ng the necessary decent disposal of the body. It was best to die at home, although the heroic and military code proclaimed that it was also best to die on the battlefield with honor. At least one should be mourned at home if possible. The rocovcry of the dead in wartime was a constant value in Greek history, as it is now. In the Odyssey, the bodies of those murdered suitors who came from beyond lthaka were shipped home by fishing boat (xxiv.4 18). If a man died away from home he mjght be brought ba<.:k to his parents and wife, o r at least be buried wjtb honors by his friends on an alien battlefield. 18 The Greeks who died at Troy may have accepted this burial in foreign earth the more easily because the o ld gravc·mouncb in the Trojan plain belonged to heroes who were still remembered in local legend. The new Achaian tombs among them, visible to sailors on the Hellespont, guaranteed that their occupants would be
Copyrighted material

CREATURES OF THE DAY

the body a nd the house; the protl1esis or vigil wake over the prepared body, at which the major moufning was expressed; and the ekplwra or procession to the cemetery, by chariot or cart or on foot. our automobile cavalcade. Aroun d these practical steps the ordinary du ties of greeting guests, collecting gifts, cleansing possible contaminations and singing the laments feU into place. The body was washed and dressed first. T he warm baths, O,p~ ~o«pa (X){ll.44•1), were necessary for removing stainsofblood and sickness, preventing corrup tion a nd contagion; they were also ceremonial as for all the greater passages like birth and marriage. The washing gave rise to the persistent connection between bathtubs and coffins, ca uldrons a nd urns.22 The body was anointed with oil, wrapped from head to foot in a clOlh, spread with another cloth, and laid on a bed or bier, usually with the feet toward the door, facing the journey. The house was hung with wreaths and sprays of leaves, and these were also offered to the dead man. There was special use of marjoram and celery, myrtle and laurel leaves. A bowl of water from a source outside the house might be offered to anyone who touched the corpse-, although the Greeks did not in general believe that death was contagious. :n T he bier was usually dressed like a bed with mattress, blanket a.nd pillows, part of the old association between sleep and death which is still natural for us.

Flo. 7 Men and women mourn a dead man on his couch: Attic black·figured plaque, sixth century.

Copyrighted matenal

'4

CREATURES OF THE DAY

These are famil)' responsibilities of the women in the household who loved the dead dearest and miss him moSt. The dead are helpless, and need comfort or mothering like infants, from mo ther or wife, w close the eyes, straighten the Jimbs, fix the jaw shut. "~·ly bitch of a wife would not even close my eyes or fix my jaws,n complained murdered Agamemnon in the unde rworld (xi.42j), a refusal of family duty which wa~ a d ear measure of her distaste for him. The plea.<;ant presentation of the body was partly prompted by feelings that it might appear in the underworld as it had left the upper world> a matter quite separate from the thOOQ' of the fJsy
Flo. SA The dead man wearing a chin-slrap: Attic black-figured loutrophoros. early fifth century.

As in modern wakes, the dead arc instinctively felt capable of hearing the funeral lament, and perhaps even of noting the ceremonial funeral gestures of striking the head, tearing out the hair, beating the breast, and scratching the cheeks till the blood runs. 26 Lucian complains of the contrast between the peaceful dead and the convulsed mourners: "The living are more to be pitied than the dead. They roll on the ground time after time and crash their heads

Copynghted rT'-:ttenal

CREATURES OF THE DAY

on the floor, while he, decent and handsome, lies high and crowned with ornamental v.rrcaths, exalted and made up as though for a procession" (On Funerals 12). The key role in this mourning was played by women through song, because the center of the ceremony was the expression of love, made memorable by form. The trad.ition of the lament scarcely changed between the Bronze Age and the Hellenistic period. The singer-woman usually cradled the head of the dead between her two palms (fig. g), as Thetis clasped Achilles' head when she foresaw his death, crying sharply. o~u 8{ KCLIKV"aa.aa KO.fYYJ ~£ ,.ao&.80s Eo'io (XVIII.7•)." There are several forms of funeral songs, distinguished as threnos, epikedtion, ialemos, and go.s. Of these the goos is most intense and personal, its theme the

Fto. 8B A girl still wtaring her ehin·strap runs down to the undenvorld to greet her family: Attic red~figured krater. fifih century.

memory of the lives the two shared and the bitterness of the loss. It survived brilliantly from Homer until the early twentieth century in the Greek rural moirologia.28 "Hcktor most dearest to my heart of all my children . . . now you lie dewy and fresh for me in the hall" (XXIV.78); "Hektor, you leave your time young and leave me a widow; . •• you did not reach out your arms to me

Copyrighted material

16

CREATURES OF THE DAY

FIG. 9 The classic mourning gC$tures:

Attic red-f~gured loutrophoros, fifth century. from your bed when you died, or tell me a word I could always remember at night" (725, 743}. So now:

o

•A Sl f,ova~tiJIJ't! ~ 8&Aaaaa, fip&xo• 8(v #pi{<~, "~ ~~~ 8€ a€ ~t>..&4nJ ~ JJ-&va. uov, 0 ~tOup..or BE 8a.KptftEc For if the sea won't swell and rise the rock's not wrapped in foam, and if your mother mourns you not the world won•t weep you home.2 i The formal power of Geometric painting in Homer's day does not often allow the music and emotion of the scene to rise to the surface, any more than the peoplc'sy6oscl.\laC7'Tos sounds aloud in words at Troy (XXIV.76o), though occasionally the swaying mourners or their intense concentration on the dead let a sense of words fill the air (fig. 10). The early gooi seem neither artificial nor metaphorical, although a professional singer also appears in a funeral role in Homer (XXJV.720}; later the sOn!J$ developed predictable formal themes, more often handled and influenced by professionals, the light darkened, the sapling cut, the flower plucked, the water spilled, the house weeping.•• In early

Copynghted r1atenal

CRBATI.IRES OF TH£ DAY

Fro. ro Emotions at the prothesis: Attic Geometrjc fragment, eighth century.

times the chief mourner was the direct communicant with the- dead, the Eeapxos y&o1o, sometimes thought to be the model of the later magician, the yO>js, who attracts the attention of the dead through songs and spells, exchanges messages with them, temporarlly resurrects them; the necromantic counterpart of the poet?• There are survivals of extremely archaic practices in Geometric funeral art, but almost nothing of the supernatural Sometimes the dead are fed, apparently;

Fta.

11

Mourners wearing dresses ornamented with horse, sphinx, and mourner: Attic funeral vase, seventh century.

Copynghted fTlatenal

CREATURES OF TH£ DAY

a row of dead ducks is tied to the bier, or a child holds a fish to his father's lips.3~ The only element of metaphysical belief which presents itself seems to be the occasional representatiorl of the PSJ'che as a bird, the renowned soul-bird whose native habitat is Egypt. who is at home until the late classical period in Greece also, Sophokles' Eint-rEpor Opvtr "one after the other like a lovely-winged bird you may see them rushing faster than ravening fire to the shore of the western

god " (OT 174}. T he famous tcrracotta funeral cart from rural Attica (fig. 12)

FlO. J 2 The procession to the grave with mourners) a child, and a sou) .. bird: terracoua funeral cart from Vari, Attica, seventh century.

which gives the essence of the calmer procession to the grave when mourning has been partly expressed and completed, has a shroud one could lift off to sex:

the image of the dead inside, hooded mourners, a little child crying on the shroud, and a bird perching." A seventh-century plaque (fig. 13) distils the essence of Attic feeling in both p hases of the ceremony, the mourning women, the goqs being sung, a flight of storks to the right, a good omen, and under the bier not a household pet but another soul-bird, with human feet. The soul-bird {fig. 14) continues to hover around mythical figures in death scenes for two centuries. From the beginning the behavior of the mourners, the grand state of the dead, and the pictorial re.n dering of the invisible ps;v:he, were the big themes of early Greek art. Burial was normally at night, a procession with mourners shouldering the coffin (fig. 15), or with the bier on a cart (fig. 16). In the Sappho and T heseus

Copyrighted matenal

a ;.

F1o. 13 Mourners, a Right of herons and a. JOUI·bird: Attic funerary plaque, late seventh ec.ntury.

Flo. 14 The soul-bird hover$ at the death of Prokris: Attic red-figured kratcr, fifth century.

•

FJO. 15 The funeral procession with pall-bearers: Attic black-figured kanthai'O$, sixth century. FIG. 16 The funera1 procession with the bier on a cart: Anic black-figured kantharos, sixth century.

Copynghted rT'-:ttenal

CREATURES OF THE DAY

21

Fxa. 17 Lowering the coffin into the grave at night:

Attic black-figured loutrophoros, fifth century. Painters' several scenes (fig. 1 7) the stages are marked; the carpenters and diggers have their lamp$, and the coffin is lowered down to the grave·diggers by torchlight. The funeral was finished and the slow process of death completed when the soul finally departed at the coming of dawn, as at the funerals of Patroklos and Hektor (XXII1.226f., XXIV. 788).3 ' This sequence of ceremonies was roQ[ed in the Bronze Age and barely changed through Greek history; the quiet scenes have a power of their own still in the time of the Peloponnesian Wars on white ground lekythoi. Nothing needed to change : the grief oftl1e women, the youth and gentleness of the dead, the contrast in fate and experience. The artio;t, like the poet, conc.entrates on the moment of last love, the heart of the celebration of a mortal.

Copynghted fTlatenal

22

CREATURES OF THE DAY

Within the long tradition of funeral painting, there is titUe of the mythical and fantastic. Early grave epigrams are almost equally innocent of references

to supernatural imagery. Hades is the familiar core of ideas of the afterlife, but the elaborations around it, or him, are not so much wanted as the facts about

the dead man, his parentage and place, his good qualities, like a permanent goos excerpted on stone. The epigram might be adorned sporadically with a few poetic tags, like moira kichei~ fate came; thanatoit> potmos, destiny of death ; tlzanatos dakruotis, tearful death; but ~uch allusions to epic language are rarer than one might suppose.35 There were points at which the sphe.res of real experience and of mythical imagery did intersect, and these linkages were intensified with the progress of

classical feeling, perhaps roughly from the time of Simonidcs to the time of Euripides. Ordinary behavior was increasingly retrojected onto the mythic past, and mythical figures brought comfort to the present. So Achilles is shown grieving at Patroklos' bier, on a vase of the 440's. (fig. t8), while the assembled

•

..

.'

.

1'

'

.,r

• ~

,.

••

~

•

••

\

._

-w

~

r

• ·-

.

Fro. 18 Achilles moun1ing Patroklos: on his bier; the Nereids sing (see also chapter 6 fig. ~8): Auic lckythos, rcd~figurcd and white.ground, fifth century.

- -

Nereids on their dolphins bring new armor and join Thetis in her mourning song, just as friends join the bereaved Athenian family. This easy sliding from present to past to present is a charac teristic of the way myth functioned in Greek society, where conjunction with the figures of old poetry could confer

heroic stature on present mortals, as in an ode of Pindar. The Nereids singing for the dead in the Iliad and Ot!Js.sty are reincarnated to add a poignant dignity

CopynghtE'C miltenal

CREATURES OF THE DAY

to less gifted ordinary fUth-century songs. A mood of reminiscence is induced, for the long cha in of ancestors who had the experience of deatb since time began, as Simonides recalled it, "Not even those long ago, the sons of our lords the gods, the half-gods, eame to old age without pain and danger and dying" (18 P.) ; their finjshed lives had a nonnative power to illuminate the incomplete experience o f their descendants.

The Survivor Because the figures of the past were still on call for mortals of the present, most Greeks felt instinctively that the bod{sdeath did not mean total extinction of the individual. Tile twenty-one grams of deathless individuality which the)' usually called the pt)'CIIe, the wind or breath which passed from the flesh to another place, was d istinct in name as in function from the mind, or the aspect of intelligence called nou.s.~ 6 By classical times nou.r also came to have some immortal aspectS, independent or the body which had temporarily sheltered it. Nous was on the whole more importam for philosophical speculation than for the basic imagery of death, and played only a minor role in death-fict ion; while the PSJ'
Copyrighted material

CREATURES OF THE DAY

Short life and limited Cl.'eativity we re tlte rnore painful to the Greeks because they seemed marked by failu re of intelligence. Our minds are too weak to control OUI' destinies, to understand the gods and what they wane from us or to see what our Lives really "mean.u Semonides of Amorgos stressed this Oaw:

.

~,

. . ·ve • ~

..-oor o out< err a

pw1rOU:11V'

.!l\' • W\1' E'f'TJP.Epo' ..~..,

a 8~ f!o-,0. {W.p.tv ov8<• t/86-,<s .. .. • \ ' 8EOS' '

OKWS EK().(11'0 V EK'TEI\EV'TJ]UO

uThere is no inte11igence in men, but, creatures o f the day, we live like cattle, knowing nothing of how god will bring each thing to finish" ( 1 D. 3- 5). The poet sees us at grass, chewing, like sacrificial animals unaware when our meat will be wanted by our masters. 'We get through one day and then another in ignorance of any larger design. Eplumtroi, animals and men, are pt"()bably called so, not in the sense of living one day's span in contrast to the infinite forward time of the gods, but rather as short-witted creatures whose intelligence responds tO or is sha ped by each day's events and accidents, E4»JI-'€pca tfopoviovus (xviii. 136, xxi.85). As 'he sun may be born fresh each day, so is the mind, infant and nepios, unable to use the past as a guide to the future or find meaning in passing events.39 From the eighth to the fifth century this was a standard Greek complaint. I-lerodotos felt as HoiJler did: eplumtroi live too long to see any consistency in their lives (!.32) . Jntelljgence, if we had it, might link us to the immortal sphere, but it is normally so defective in us that we replace it with hope and delusion, as winged and weightless as the PJJ'Ch.e. Down to the time of the Persian \V:us, Greeks felt the double burden, of being mortal :.nd being stupid. After thaf, perhaps, a sense of being Greek partly compensated. T he Greeks disliked being stupid. "It has been decided since very ancient times that the Hellenic nation is cleverer than the barbaric nations ..." (Herodotos I.6o.3). The Greeks are of course par tly responsible for the western overestimation of the value of intelligence. The most familiar Greek virtue, sophrosyne, began as that quality of mind which would keep you safe and draw you back from the stupidity of the sleeping and the dead.' 0 Eve n more stupid than the barbarians are the dead. It is sad that they arc not more aware of us.1 and are unable to admire us more or to judge sympathetically our fall from their higher standards. \Ve regret i1 for them often: uYour father would turn in his grave if he knew . .... ; h Agamemnon would voan aloud if he found out ..." ; but it is safe, he docs not know or fails to pay attention. 41 To be stupid is to have your faculties dulled, to be stunned or struck senseless, to be slow of perception, tiresome, apathetic, unintercsti~g. Stupidity may have external causes like an eclipse or a hard blow on the head, or a vision, or causes to which your own body contributes, natural defect or disease or death. Afte r de.ath, at least, most settle in their graves asleep, hard to rouse and generally inattentive, or seem penned more distantly in the underv.•orld, sometimes irritable as sleepers are, and possibly dim witted.42

Copyrighted material

CREATURES OF THE DAY

This dimness is both external and internal, because darkness is the oldest metaphor for both stupidity and for death~ and always the most common. As one of America's popular philosophers, \Voody Allen, put it, "The thing to

remember is that each time of life has its approprjate rewards, whereas, when you're dead, it's hard to find the liglu-switch!' 4 3 Thjs was a clicht already in the epics of Gilgamesh or in the sun-hymns of Egypt." The Greeks also felt that the sun was the external monitor and shape of intelligence even when it had the disadvantage of being born new each day, not storing wisdom. The intelligence which reveals itself through the eye as brightness, like the interchange between auge "ray" and auga~omai " see," leusso " lookn and ltukos "white {light)/' is the miniature mortal counterpart to Helios, the eye of heaven who knows everything because he sees everything (III.:z n ).f5 It is within this con· vention that we are all still called btight or d im. As the sun sees because there is fire in him, the agent or fluid of sight., so the Greek eye is its own source or light, looking bri.IUantly or darkl)' at friends and enemies. The eye feeds information to the mind; and although it o perates less well in the darkness of a dead world, there is hope that, like Empedokles' man with the lantern, a little fore.. thought may help illumine the way: As when a man who has in mind to journey fon.,ard (ffp6oSo11 11oE'w11] through a stormy night prepares a lantern, a flame of gleaming fire, and fits lantern plates to keep out winds or every killd ... [and] the light k.aps out since it is finer and shines across the opening with unt iring rays . . . so did ancient abotiginal fire, confined in mem. brancs and delicate tissues, hide itself in ambush in the round pupil. . . • [B.84) The man with the lantern in the dark had intelligence and made his preparation for the journey. And even in death, though the eyes close and the fire is shut oft; so that the intelligence shrivels for lack of fuel and power, it can, under certain circumstances, be sparked to a degree of brightness again. For Hcraklcitos there was light in the mind's night when the sleeper shut his eyes and attained some deeper communication (B.26). Although slang expressions like u rJI darken your daylights,'' Or "8Q afis Ot
Copyrighted material

CREATURES OF THE DAY

taking the uncertain dead to their nev..· home along a new path or in releasing the dead souls out to the light again (fig. 19) .•• Wit is internal mortal light controlled and supported by extemal immortal

light; while in many ordinary people this light survives only feebly in the dark underground and must be sparked with injections of blood or other vital juices before lt brightens enough to speak again, there are exceptional heroes whose wit is not so extinguished in death. Everyone dies, but the wittier at least die twice. These are the polytropoi like Odysseus, or Sisyphos, ::r.\(inT4 vO'YiapaoaTo, but he went into the shadowy land of the wasted dead, passed the dark gate.s which keep in the souls of the dead againSt their will, and out of there back up again came Sisyphos the hero, "into the light of the sun by his own multiple wits," ts 4>Uos rjE.\tou qtfoflow wo>..vtfopoaJva.,r {Theognis 702-r2). At least in the archaic period, for some poets, wit was the only reliable plumnakon for death, and was their favorite quality in themselves. T he spark of reftectivc intelligence was thought to distinguish men from childr en and animals, It was the faculty that contemplated death and in some

.-

Fra. 19 Hermes releases the souls of the dead from a jar into the light {?) : Attie white-ground lc:kythos, fifth century.

Copynghted matenal

CREATURES OF THE DAY

sense controlled jt. Greek sugge.uions rhat incelligence was the only effective defense against death were literally true. Occasionally, in folk-tale, a dis play of muscular power could check death for a 1noment., but even Herakles fetching

Kerberos up from hell usually had divine help to support the intelligence for which he was not renowned, from Hermes, or Athena in many Athenian pictures. Strong emotions like anger might also resist the cn(Ccbling cfiCcts o f death; many heroes: d ie angry, like Sarpedon, KT"(w6,t£(vos p.
potential actors in ghost stories, dangerous and partly wakeful. Yet normal Greek hopes for survival, apart from folk-talc, focused on memory as a function

of intelligence. I f a dead man can reme mber his. own name, who he was a nd what he did,

he is still partly himself. This is perhaps one reason why we write the names of the dead so clearly on tombstones (figs. 20 and 21). With memory working, otlter functions may also be restored, ahhough no Greek ever stressed phrsical vigor in death to the degree that the Egyptian$ did : "?-.>fy eye$ and ears a re opened . . . ; the bonds that a rc on my mouth ar c opcncd. 11 u I do not grow blind, I do not become deaf"; or even, with ne-ar total control, " I e-at with my mouth, I have motion in my behind.''• 8 Admiration for such physical prowess in resurrection is as rare in Greek eschatology as it is in Greek literature, where bowels are scarce. Greek de-ad do not eat in Hades, and are seldom interested

in the motions which are the logical consequences of the banquet of the dead ; the intelligence was more interesting than the flesh, and it might, with god's grace and human help, fu nction like a little miner's headlamp in the dark. The fear, then, is that the dead have lost. what we most admire in o urselves,

our intelligence and wit. The fiction is that they may not lose it altogether,

Fto. 20 A bo)' on a pillow

Fto. •• T he sleeping dead

asleep in his tomb:

as babes in the w()()ds :

Attic wh.itc·grou.nd lekythos, fifth century.

nincteenth·century tomb sculpture.

Copyrighted material

CR£ATURES OF THE DAY

although tbc eyes a rc closed. This is one of the deep beauties about the two underworld scenes in the Od}SSty, in xi and x..xiv, different as they are in their dark geography and high lit scenes with heroes; in both the r.entra] theme of the sentient, remembering and feeling dead man is raised a nd examined in a bl'illiant s.crics o f refrac ted lights, changing personalities and conditionsyoung and old, warrior and woman, honored and dishonored, resigned and angry and mela.ncholy and c urious; as though to assure us that personality, or careers won through with hardship, Ol' emotions toward the living, or mood or intelligence, are not in fact e.x tinguished in the darkness. It is within this sphere of convention that t he curious incident of the prophet in the Od)'SU:J underworld, Teircsias, has sometimes been misundetscood. The T heban prophe t is singled out by the poet a.s being the only dead mao wbose wits are unshaken by death, to who m Pe rsephone has granted nous and the capacity to be wise {x.493). Od)•Sscus is m consult h im on how to get home safely; and the distinguished and logical scholars who have observed t hat, in fact_. Teiresias tells him no su~:;h thing, have sometimes concluded that Od~·ssey xi was stitched together within itselfand to its surroundings by an incompe te nt. o~tl Th e voyage to the undcn"·orld is held to be extraneous to a plot which brings Odysseus home by Circe's advice and h is own wits; perhaps undertaken fo r the pleasure o f the p anorama of the past, the excellent ghosts, the stress on un· certainty in the relations of parents a nd children, and the high adventure of penetrating such a d ifficult place, but not for the stated reason of co nsulting the bUnd prophet in the da rk. Yet apart l't-om the poetic inevitability that, as in

other epics, t he serious voyager will experience death and wiU learn as at an oracle of his o wn death, Odvsseus receives from Teiresias the most ancient possible instruction, and the one most worth having: " do not anger the sun.n Only the sun, in its intelligence, comes inlact through the da rkness and 1he water bene.ath the world, and may draw a mortal caught in that darkness out with him again imo the light. A mortal may force his wishes on the sun, as Hcraklcs demands the sun' s gold bowl for Ira vel back out of the wes1ern seas, but an inteUigent man like Odysseus should honor the sun~s intelligence, as the only mechanism of survival. The sleep which poured on Odysseus~ eyelids on the isla nd of the sun (x.ii.338), and his subsequent ncar·drowniog and d escent in to the black hole of Charybdis, are equally a('(:haic motifs which would have been as e-asily understood in Egypt or !\•lcsopotamia. The distinction in the way in which these motifs are handled is the greater role of fa.ith, practice, and rote worship in the older cultures, and the greater insistence on individual qualities of mind among tbe Greeks. The power of Greek poetic treatment of the unden'iorld was bound to introduce a considerable separation between the ideas of de.a th whlch a singer might explore, and the ideas which controlled actual burial practice. One obvious point needs renewed empl1asis. T here have b een many a reas of

Copyrighted material

CREATURES OF THE DAY

29

confusion abom the Greek imaginings of death and its consequences. Some of the confusion is iohereot in the subj ect. Some is caused b)' reluctance to distinguish b etween instinctive ideas, or community religious beliefs, and poetic fic tion. In myth, in poetry and in art the dead are naturally alive. The /JJ)'Ciu cannot be shrivelled, fc.c ble and witless, for a poet who has sent his hero, his alter ego, to the Underworld to talk with such a crowd would soon lose his audience. The PSJ•ssey Nekyia (x.x iv.rf.) which wanted "solution by the schotiasts was., u how can tht.·y see the \r\1hitc Roc.k when there is no light in Hades? " The answer: "the parts of it turned toward the day gleamed pale. 1150 Lucian also complained: "They suppose there is a place deep under the earth called Hades, wide and spacious and murky and sunless [{o.fot"pOs Kai Uvr}Ator]; I do not know how ther imagine it is lighted up to sec everything in it .. (0/l. Funerals 2}. It is not imagination so much as necessity; one would know it v,·a.s dark but render the needed light. )l

Copyrighted material

CREATURES OF THE DAY

Elpenor, who killed himself falling drunk off Circe's roof because he failed to pay attention {xi.(b), emerges from t he sunless reedy lake, an unburled ps;dl "beneath the windy darkness_," brightly lit on the Lykaon Painter's vase (fig. 22), and of normal size and solidity. Patroklos' PSJ
fro.

22

Odysseus sees .Elpenor in the marshes of the unde.rv.•orld:

Attic red-figured pelikc, c. 440 B.C.

Copynghted rT'-:ttenal

CREATURES OF THE DAY

Fto. ~3 A PSJ'tht. brjngs incense to welcome the dead: Attic white·ground lekythos. fiflh century.

In other· scenes, set in places where the presence of individual dead people is stil1 sensed on earth, espeC-ially near tombs,* there is a more pa lpable- image, the tido/on, Jess reduced to graph .'" A dead Athenian lady (fig. 24) may sit in her household chair above her tombJ receiving offcrjngs and thoughts from her famiJy, as on so m3ny later grave reliefs. 54 A dead soldier-hero rises in armor a bove h is grave mound, perhaps attracted to the surface by the fresh fillets and gi fts of those who still remember h im; he has an a lert expression and makes an active gesture (fig. 25) . In the mythological sphere it is often the eidolo'' of Patroklos brought up from h.is tumulus at Troy 10 show his delight at Hektor's body being dragged around his own, a spark to his slumbering but still angry "'self" in the tom.b.t~.ti These artists' conventions for both /JS)'Che and ~idolon arc necessary, for il is difficult to draw the invisible with charm and conviction. They are also grounded in a real belief that emanations of the dead hover ncar their tombs, however impalpable, as now the actions ofjumping on a grave or • A:s Plato S)X!.ot.ks of the: diwrderly ;md impn.rden t soul that still longs for ia bod)·, and Auttet'l o\round it and the world of sight for ;a long time, penister1dy bolding b:&ck O'lnd :suffering greord)· (Ph(Jirf.t, •o8 b).

Copynghted r1atenal

CREATURES OF THB DAY

• I

1'\'i,J.JJ,i.JN- "'' t!'

'1'"-1 ; 1 ~:' Fto. 24 The

tidol•• o( a lady appears

seated on her tomb: Attic white-ground ldtythos, fifth century.

covering il with Oowt:rs arc felt to be sensed by the one: within, however far he may hnve gone toward heaven or invisibiJity. Such pictures and ideas should not be taken entirely seriously as comments on the metaphysics of the soul ; or rather, metaphysical and metapsychical theories sho uld not take themselves too seriously, for ambiguity and confusion are built into this ancient series of half·thought.s and no one would tolerate their eradication in any matter which touches him personally. Scholars used to wonder whether the pty<Ju was reintegrated somehow by fire or burial in the afterlife, or became tl>e kind of tid•IM whieh the poe<S describe, once the ligaments were dissolved which kept tOme mortal p->wer on eanh. Probably fire and burial have little to do with it; within the enormous variety of burial habits around the world. there are nill only 3. few central ideas. But it is the artist who rcintcgnues the clements of the dead when he has need 10. It would be poetically awkward for Odysseu•, when speaking wit!> the Pf]tluzi or hia dead friends, to go down on nil rourt outside chc mouth of Hades wilh a magnifying glass. It was not religious ceremony which inflated the /»)'Cite to n reasonable size for convcrs..1.tion; it was the poet, who :tcljustcd the scale of the Jiving and the dead to the. requirements of his imagined scene and to the dignity or h.is characters.

CREATURES OF THE DAY

37

starring in The Persians, he is stiU in a Greek play with info rmation and advice fOr a Greek a udience ; on other occasions he is off somewhere more dhtant than Susa and forgotten. Polygnotos, in his panorama of the mythical dead for the Lesebe of the Knidians at Delphi, can include Phrygian Marsyas among other legendary 1.nusiciaos, as well as Hektor, Paris, Sarpedon, Pcnthcsileia and Memnon as Trojans and eastern barbarians, because the epic cycle has so firmly es~:>bHshed them in the center of Greek heroic combat and Greek myth." The o lder tribal kingdom o f the dead c.an expand as the Greek view o f the neighboring world expanded. The distant Mycenaean l'oyal couple in their walJed kingdom of the dead, like their subjects, change with the social changes in Greece. In the archaic period Hades and Persephone may take on che role of archons, magistrates or judges, wa tching to see that Sisyphos really does roll his rock as decreed; or seated with a sheaf of wheat, marking the stable and benevolent overseers of law. I n the fifth century the old warrior Hades, thundering out in his chariot to rape Persephone, has increasingly given way to the new Plouton figure of agricultural wealth, son-in-law of Demeter merging into son with the increasing inAuence of the cult at Eleusis, holding his cornucopia of riches co match Persephone's grain. The old Home1·ie picture had been less genial, but admirable and consistent: Hades as king, horseman, horse-breeder, warrior and charioteer, unbeatable and not to be softened, &.80.!-UlOTOS and djulA,xor {IX. t 58), lord of under-men, anax eneron, ruling in the windy darkness, {0ov ~Ep0£..7<1 {XV.191 ), wounded defending his g-.ttes, going to clinic on Olympos with an arrow in his shoulder from mortal Hcra.klcs, and rescued by t.hc poet with a mocking formula, "for he was not made to die," oti p.£11 ydp '7& Ko.To.fJV7JT0s y~l"''lruwro (V.4o2). Dut throughout, Hades neither came out of his kingdom to collect the dead, nor did he kill them; be '"'as not an agent of de..·t.th but a king of remembered images. In some sense there is no agent of death for the Greeks, because death is not a power- so H ades a nd Thanatos are notoriously onworshipped; death is a negative, a ce.ssation, an inversion of life, but not a physical enemy. Thanatos is no more a killer than Hades; he represents an aspect o f what happens when life stops, and is consequently the source of anxiety in the company of other lightly personified figures of e pic poetry like moira, fate, potmos, destiny, and the keres. Thanatos is not a fully developed figure in Homeric epic. He appears incarnate and upper case only once in Homer, in the big set piece of Iliad XVI o n the death of the Lycian prince Sarpcdon (fig. 27). With his brother Sleep he carries the body home for ceremonial burial in Lycia, a benign escort with swift feet, not a killer (X\'1.671). Sarpedon has long been dead, stripped, looted, rolled in bJood and dust with arrows sticking out of his flesh, surrounded by enemies like Hies on a milkpail in spring; in the context, Thanatos rescues him, cradling the body Jike a kinsman, as Harpies aod stormwinds also do.

Copyrighted material

34

CREATURES OF THE DAY

were covered over by earth on their death, but were not in Hades; and Hades itself, house and god, is made more suitable for a warrior generation. T his is a necessary ambiguity, for the dead arc set inside the earth, but when a man ploughs or disturbs tombs and bones, he docs not go deep enough to reach the psyche; and the PSJche is nearly a lways thought of as inhabiting an infertile region without crops and sunlight, consequently not really earth itself. The realm of chthonic figures, of furies and dreams and night and snakes and giants, is not the real m of Hades, except as Eatth and Night are masterillg figures which cover the passage of souls up and down.57 Hades is, in contrast, a steriJe and inferrile realm without generation ; and being a community with a queen and king a r1d gates and a palace, is also thought of as a separate kingdom, of vast enough dimensions to suit the lordly role of H ades brother of Zeus and Poseidon, distinct from the elder god dess Earth. On Xenoklcs' lip-cup, Hades draws lots for his kingdom with his b rothers, and looks surprised but not dis.. pleased with the result ; he gla nces backward, like death-gods in other cultures (fig. 26). It would be difficult to make even a schematic drawing of Hades, following the extensive but vague descriptions of H omer, H esiod, Polygnotos and Plato. The kingdom of Hades is down under. so much is known. It is to some degree movable by poets. straight down under earth's surface, or off at the edge of the world, usuaJly in the west toward the setting sun. H ow one got there was a matter of imagery. lt lay outside the mapped spheres of the cosmos, like other rr.gions beyond Ocean where even the sun scarce-ly tr:l.velled, islandn :tnd shores filled with wiz.a1·ds and monsters and figures with wonderful singing voices; it was closer to earth than the lower deoth-prison of the gods, the windy gated realm of Tart.aros where d angerous or rebellious immortals could be locked away.•• One could not normally reach Hades by sailing in a black ship (x.soo),

Fto. 26 The Lhrce lords of the cosmos, Zeus.t Poseidon and Hades: Attic black-figured lip-cup, sixth century.

CopynghtE'C miltenal

Ciu:ATURES OF THE DAY

39

Poetic formula may sometimes grant Thanatos hands and legs, but not often. 65 He r:nay run a n:tan down, but a man can escape, O&vaTov t/>UyE (XVII.7 14), or duck under, vrraAJea. (XI.451, vs. XII.327), an image trans· ferred from thrown spears or raised swords. He has heavy hands once (XXI. 548), is wkke.d three times, depressing to the energy of the thumos, ~<ara861-''CIS (X.sSs, XVIl.~or ) , and can smash it as though with a sledge-hammer, 8ul"opw·ur!J< (XVI.414), but die impact of that formula is softened, a.. death is shed gently around the head, t 8' ~-''"' 8dva"f''~ xU1'0 8up.opaXcrr.f]s, a mist or darkness, as a wave overwhelms a ship. Thanatos can make an ugly noise, Sv07Jris, but never docs so when a ma n dies; the noise is in the minds of gods who fear fo r particular men, like anxious parents liste ning for a crash. Thanatos can lay a man on the ground, "'"'1,\'Y'}s (VI!l. 70, 'LXII.2 10), as though on a bier; but, again, he never does so, for the ,vord is only used in that passage of beautiful distressing sound, Ka~ -rOn lj·~ XPtJ.uE,a 1ro.:rf)p l-rl-rawE 1"~av-ra. • ev S' J,.{8(t 8Vo Kfjpt, T(l""}.\'t"/los Ocwd.Tot<>. as Zeus setS the keres of death in the gold scale-pans to affirm externally the identity of die one who will die. Tbe ambiguous kms have shapes and weights; thanatos itself cannot be weighed. Th.allalos is commonly a genitive, qualifying other agents.68 These are neutral d efining powers like moi-ra, fate, or telo.s, end, not malicious but un· arguable; or color, the black cloud of thailaws; or the wicked ker of blac k thari(IIOJ. In most descriptive passages tha11atos is not a personification but a cloud, a veiJ, a mist drifting around the head, OO.VaTos xV,.o, ,.dAav vlf>o~ Oa.,J.Toto. The cloud appears in two colors, black an~· porphyry, with familiar interlocked poetic associations.•? Black is shared with earth, both as it simply exists and when it is darkened with soldiers' blood; and with blood also, with cloud, night and sea., with blackwater springs in similes of grief, or spriugs that wolves lap with their thin bloody tongues; black is for pain and.sorrow, for the ashes Achilles pours on his shining head in mourning, for the veil Thetis draws over her head, "dark blue, than which there is no blacker cloth" (XXIV ·94)· Porphyry is rarer, used for only six things in the Iliad: a cloud of warning on a god•s shoulders ; the water of Skamander river swollen with corpses; the sea rising in a great silent wave in a sjmile fo r disturbed anxiety; the heart , ..·hich "purpled enormously'• at the sight of AchiJies advancing; and cloth, the cloth of battles and death that Helen wove, or the cloth of Bowers Andromache wove for Hektor's go ld coffin. T he elemental form of thanatot in the Iliad is not as dangerous agent but as dark color. The ker 66 seems more personal and dangerous. The ker of black thanatos can knock a man down and master him; no one can duck or avoid hei", she is ten th ousand. She is more active and vivid than the usual personifications of battle~ field panic and noise, for she is sometimes dressed and her clothes are sprin_kled

Copyrighted material

CREATURES OF THE DAY

with blood; she has hands and drags corpses by the heels; she has jaws and will later have cla\'\o'S. She is the poetic and private equivalent of the corpse ravagers 8

of war, the birds and dogs, or the sphinxes, Sirens and Harpies; she has been understood as a ghost, a bacillus, lust, disease, Jack of morals; a sister of sleep, death, and the furies, she may be an inherited Mycenaean figure elaborated into variously shaped patterns later. In art she is winged, and may be designed both as attractive and repulsive, as death is both. Patroklos says the most sinister

thjng about her, after he is dead: (p( l'
&.\,\'

"The frightening ker. who got me by lot when I was born has opened hc,r jav.'S around me" (XXII1.78f.). The ker swallowed Patroklos with the rare verb

amphichasko, like the dragon-child who sucked at Klytaimncstra 's breast in Aisehylos (Chotphoroi 545), mixing mother's milk with clots of blood, for the ker?s nature is mixed of life and death . She is analogous to kind black earth

Fto. 28 The Mouth of Hell: fOurteenth-century manuscript.

Copyrighted material

CR£ATUR£S OF Tttt DAy

opening to swallow men, like an anima.! swallowing her young, like Kerbcros the biter, or the terrible stomion in Plato's hell which roared when any unpurified soul tried to escape; the mouth tO the underwodd like the laitma lhala.sse.s> the gullet of the sea, Patroklos' personal swalJowing daimon. Ker 1/umatoio: she is the agent and he is the aspect; not dcath~goddess of death, but of darkness. Thanatos is both less personal and less fatal. The etymological connections arc with av&tfoos, C~s, vl!foos, Kvlt/xls; darkness and cloud; Zcphyros the west wind.69 Tluzuatos is scarce1y a real figure in epic poetry; it is a physical veil, a cloud between the man and the fjght, a private fragment of night for creatures of the day, a miniature Hades. The Greeks, significantly, had no word for irreversible death; one docs not die, one darkens. There is then always the hope of the little interior light of intelligence, which may never go completely out inside the ps;·,he, but waits to be roused by a human gesture li_ke the oldest form of Sleeping Beauty. The psycilt is memory and intelligence dormant, and can under p roper circumstances be recalled by grief, love, magic or poet.ry, as we shaU see jn jts further adventures.

FIG. 29

Kcrbe,ros leaves Hades again..'t his will:

Lakonian black-figured cup, sixth century.

Copynghted r1atenal

II DEATH IN T HE BRONZE AGE : A H OUSE IS NOT A HOME May I have a warm house with a stone at the gate And a cleanly yow1g girl to rub my bald pate. WALTRR PoPE. Thtt Old Man's Wish

THE

conventions o f behavjor wh ich surround the departure of the fiSJ~Iu are necessary comforts to the livi ng. T hey are supported by a shared pretense of knowing what would happen to it afte rwards:. Greek ideas about the futu re of the bod)• and its attached psychic. image, as conventional and illogical as others, were imaginatively improved by those defects of logic which denied absolute separation ofthe two. Greek body and soul were not so parted in death as PJato hoped, or as Christian doctrine proclaimed. Even when STRONC

the body ·wolS fully " dead," and the psythe had gone "elsewhere," men who wanted to speak with and comfort the psyche would quite simply and naturally go first to the body in its burial shelter. In principle, ·if the psy
focus upon its old earthly housing, wbieh was i~ point.of contact with the u pper world. The attachment was fragile, but not easily btoken by the passage of time. The grave has always been the easiest place to try speaking with the dead. The inexperienced living cannot be certain which of its places, or homes, the dead prefer, whether it is the shallow pocket in the earth above or the central assembly-place deep below. When the G reeks thought seriously about the matter at all, like most ancient peoples the)' seem to have imagined some kind of impalpable, spiritual tunnel running betwee n the body's new resting place and the souPs new home, a. tube through which physical tendance and living words of love and respect might reach. It is not easy, professionally or temperamentally, for an archaeologist to make confident connections be tween tombs and thoughts. Archaeologists arc ordinarily conservative, factual, and constrained by their training from flights of fancy. T hey arc hap pier when they can leave spiritual interpretation to historians of religion, or even to anthropologists nurtured in another field than classics. Ideas about the journey underground, the voyage overseas, the sleeper in his grave aod lUs care and feeding, cult and magical practice make excavators n ervous because they cannot be proved, and rna)' be rooted in fanmsy. The philologist, jn contrast, may find it repugnant to peer in graves or contemplate

42

Copyrighted material

DEATH IN THE BRONZE AGE

43

disordered skeletons; it is restricting to him to keep the practical or historical aspects of death ceremonies in mind as he contemplates famous death scenes from Sarpedon to Sokrates or speculates upon matter and mind. He deals with character and idea; the archaeologist is confronted with the refuse from which character and idea are large ly drained. Some merging of interests is

advantageous in that sphere where body and soul refuse to be severed entirely. Since the beginning of recorded history, from an archaeological point of view, there seems to have been some hesitation about considering death to be a

permanent fact. In Paleolithic times a dead companion might be placed in a shallow pit ncar the fire, to warm him, or cheer him if he woke in the dark; he might be given a piece of meat, or a stone tool, to help him along if he came back when the others had left. A forged patina of life, an application of ochre or cinnabar to the face, or to the skull when £he flesh had gonet was valued as a replacement of lost color. This quasi-magic..1.J practice continued in certain Neolithic cultures (fig. r), and was a simpler prelude to the artistic creation of

a new more durable face for the dead man. The plastered skulls ofJericho are improved by shells for eyes, false light in the sockets (fig. 2); or the face may be replaced by a who1e frontal mask in stonc. 1 Egyptian stone- rese,rve heads or

~.' r:;) '

tlG. l Painting of dead man with reddened skull and lips: QataJ HOyUk, c. 5825 B.c.

FICL 2 PJastercd head with shell eyes: Jericho, c. 7000 n.c.

Copynghted fTlatenal

F10. 3 Mesolithic skeleton covered with a streen of $tOnes: Franchth.i Cave, Greece, eighth millennium n.o.

Copyngilted rJai nal

D EATH IN T HE BRONZE AGE

45

Mycenaean gold masks are only elaborations of this old effort to preserve individual features in memory; classical eye ba nds stamped with open. eyes, \ Vest Greek clay heads o n ash urns, I talic face and helmet urns, effigy tombs and cemetery portraits, or even the standard G.I. helmet hung on the soldier's cross-for home is where you hang your hat- all celebrate the idea that the head is the seat of life and personal identity, and that if it can be made more lasting the individual may be helped to withstand the darkening of time.• Wherever earth-buria l was even a sporadic custom, it was common p ractice to spread stones over the body in a light screen, to keep animals otT (fig. 3). A stone was often placed near the head, sometimes as a pillow, sometimes in the mout h; 3 stone became closely associated with the de-ad for its durable and protective q ualities. From that association it was a short step, in l\1yccnacan and classical times1 to making an occasional substitution of a stone or a stone figure for a dead peroon who had been lost at sea or whose body for some other reason could not itself, tWios, be buried. The classical t<ma can be both the external sign of the invisible dead in the grave1 and the substitute person1 especially kept alive in memory when written upon {fig. 4).4

Fto. 4 Sema and mnema : gravestone ora classical youth : stele from Nisyros, c. 450 n.c.

Copyrighted material

DEATH IN THE BRONZE AGE

In some early communities, primary earth-burial was not the rule. The living rather dcv<:loped a p artnership with nature, with animals and birds and river torrent$, to strip the flesh off tbc bones first, in the practical step of excarnation. 5 Afterwards, parts of the cleaned skeleton, especially the skull and the long bones, would be collected for secondary burial, in a hou.se of the village, or in a separate village of the dead. Under such circumstanc-es it was natural for the conccit to develop that feeLing was more a ttached to the enduring white bones of the dead man thao to his corrupted and vanishing flesh. Somehow the bones ,,,..ere a poetic ivory cage for the thufTWs, individual feeling, and although Homer parts che two in a L'radit.ion thousands of years old, .\in< 8' l,(I'T€o. 8v1'6r, the spirit left the bones; Mn~ txnJo. 8,.,p_Or d.Y?}vwp, the proud spirit left the bones (XII.386, XX.4o6), some traces of feeling were still caught in the hollow spaces of the cleaned skeleton.6 \\1herc cxcarnation by predators was practiced in normal death, and on battlefield occasions of sudden violent death. the vulture and the fox (or in some countries the jackal and hyena) became the instruments of cleansing. Their intimate and ambiguous association. with dead bodies wa s proclaimed in art from a t least the sixth millennium B.c .• and formed part of an archaic tradition which was much later briJliantly manipulated in Homeric epic, in the birds and dogs who "feasted" on humiliated corpses ac Troy.7 The rccon· structcd rites of the vulture shrines of Neolithic Qatal HiiyUk in central Anatolia (fig. j) are the oldest preserved documents of a relativdy odor less and simple solutio n to problems which must have been widespread.& lbe hcadle.<1s bodies, the skulls collected and preserved in baskets, the gre-at birds with their Railing wings, and the acknowledgement that physical destruction rnay ulti~ mate ly be to spiritual and community advantage. all mark our first visual knowledge of the tradition which lies behind the winged, swallo\\ring ktru of Greec-e. The female breasts molded in clay high on the wal.ls of these shrines arc clear symbols of the unity of life and death, of the o bvious effects of the de.ad on fields and animals. The breasts promise the start of the life cycle with infant nourishment; and, when they on occasion conceal a vulture's beak or fox'sjaw behind the red-painted nipple, they also ofiC.r the instrument of ulti mate recycl.ing. The symbol began as an acknowledgement of the ordinary unity of life a nd death in the social life of a community, but increasingly the predator side of the balance, and the ravaging of unconsenting bodies, becomes more marked in the iconography of death, particularly in the special sphere of the battlefield where scavengers worked on both sides. The predynastie Lion Palette from Egypt, or the Vulture Stele ofLagash (fig . 6) is eloquent testimony for soldiers' and artists• impressions of what. happens to men on the losing side. Birds and dogs who eat corpses in the aftermath of victory were dra wn into the conventional language of war art, and into the limited male repertory of boasting, millennia before the Greek epic singer flourishes them as malevolent

Copyrighted material

FtG. 5 Vultures deani1lg bodies, heads kept in a basket: reconstructed rite:$ in the Neolithic Vulture Shrine, <;atal HUyUk. c. 6150 n.c.

Fto. 6 Vultures picking at the dead enemy: the Vulture Stele from Lagash for King Eannatutn, c. 2500 B.c.

Copyrighted matenal

DEATH I N THE BRoNzE AoE

threats on the plain of Troy. When gouging of the body is so connected with the humiliation of losing, the older idea of constructive recycling of human flc,sh by the animal wor ld is overlaid by a convention of fear and outrage.' In the ordinary management of the dead, whether in primary or secondary burial, there was occasionaUy au impulse among the survivors to make a little new home for those who we re leaving their old home. From the fourth millennium onward, a full-scale tomb may imitate a house, or a little model house may serve as an ossuary for collected bones. These models arc usually crude versions of village houses~ sketches of what the de-ad will find familiar . T hey are rare enough in c.arly cultures to suggest that they are impulsive personal commissions and not evidence for generaJ practice. Modern cemeteries still feature simple house-tombs alongside the more grandiose temple-tomb made fashionable by the Egyptians and the G reeks. 10 ln Greece the idea that the tomb was a permanent model house was never so widespread as in Egyp t, Asia Minor, the northern borderlands of Macedonia and the Crimea, or Etruria. 11 In the Bronze Age the most ambitious to mbs, the Jlwloi, were not replicas of normal houses, and in classical Greece there was a b asic pessimism about the chances of creating a stable fu ture existence by surrounding the corpse with familiar a rchitecture o r furniture. This pessimism was connected wjtb the belief in the distant kingdom of the dead, and with the feeling that tl•e functions of the body, like dining, sleeping, and making love, had no need of furthet· support once the flesh was gone. Tite housc.. tomb implies n sentient deotd m•m plcmscd with

tu,

furnished apartment alld its

promise of pe rpetual resting, banqueting a nd pleasure; and while aspects of such belief surfaced occasionally ln Greece, es,pecially in connection with hero.. cult, such imaginings were not dte ru1e. Although the psy'tht often still wears its body in Hades, it is generally free from the problems and desires of the flesh except as folklore insisted on the bodily punishment of sinners. I·Iowcvcr, the white bones at peace in the un derground chamber of the grave necessarily inspired reflections abo ut the sleep of the dead; the houses, Dikia of the dead, and the thalanuu or bedroom o f the gra ve wc.rc e-arly clich~ in Greek. The sunken rectangle of the gra ve had to be provided with a door and a roof for practical purposes. T he Mycenaean chamber ..tomb might even have an architecturally d ressed or painted facade like a house, and inside the rock..cut chamber the family might provide simple benches, stone pillows, even blankets and ta bles (although these are all rare) to make a more pleasant setting for the big sleep. 12 Coffins o f the Late Bronze Age and of classical times often imitate a house; in the th irteenth century B.C. it was common to provide architectural treatment of the corners, even a pillar at the center, like a palace on a small S<:alc. When these sporadic decorative impul.~es appear they may suggest that the dead prefer shelter in a familiar form; whether they were rcaJly thought to live in them with the vigor of the ghosts of Ruddigort i.s a matter on which Greek opinion was no doubt tangled like our own.

Copyrighted material

DEATH IN THE BRoNzE

Am:

49

An important difference b etwee n the standard burial practice of the l\.fycerlaean world, and that of earlier and later periods in Greece, is that from the sixteenth to tJ1c twelfth centuries B.C. it was felt prO(>CT to collect members of a familr in a single tomb-chamber. This Mycenaean view of the importance of the family is part of the environment for the creation of epic poetry, a lthough in epic, and in fact from the twcJfth century B.C. onward, burial was once more commonly individual and lonely as it had bee n before the Mycenacans.13 In a ll periods it was natural for membe rs of the samc.~ family or clan to be grouped ncar one another in a plot of land, in their indi.vidual cclb; mothers and children, or married couples, might be buried together ,.,.·hen they died together; nearness in death might lead to reunion in au afterlife. ~(ycenac.an practice was more than this, more than the communal burials of e.arly Crete or the mass burials of Cyprus. In shared shafts, tholoi or chambers, the Mycenaean family Ia}' together in death through several generations, a principle conducive to dynastic pride and a passion for genealogy. Genealogy often bores the immortal young, and appeals more to those who will soon face a shirt from the earth's surface to the f.'lmily tree. Still, if one were to meet one's ancestors in the tOmb or in the underworld, it would be courteous as well as use fu l to know their names and deeds. An expertise in oral and family tradition would support the refinement of one's man.ners and help bridge the gener.ttion

gap. The belief in a reunion of the dead comforts both sides. ~1orc recent dead can bring news to those who long for it, like the suitors in the Odyss9; the older dead can greet those just painfully artivt:d, like lphige ne ia kissing her murdered father at the quick-whirling ferry-crossing of Achcron. 14 The experienced dead who had a lready weatltel'ed the shock of disernbodiment a nd dislocation could give practical ad vice on how to a djust. Since the dead family could be encountered both in the tomb and in Hades1 the}' were fitful!)' imagined as still a live in both places. One poet '"·ill watch Agamemnon weeping a. warm tear in Hades (xi.391); another wiJI have him live on, remote and djm in his tomb, EvOa o' (xovuw EUmt (Aischylos, ChQtp/ll)rOi 3l8), a figure ofhero-culc. 15 T his double location of the dead brings complications; it is not a simple separation, bod}' in the grave and soul in Hades. T he body' s condition will affect the condi tion of the soul. T he magical fUnction of the mutilation of the body, as in the mnsdwli.rmo.r when the lopp·t d-off members are tied to the body to be with it but not workable, apparently ensures that a revenant ghost will be equally helpless. 10 Oidipous blinds his body before death at least partly to not face his parents in the underworld, towc\rd which he proceeds from a separate grave (Sophokles OT 1371). Cutting down the body early loaves the soul still infant; wounding the flesh means wounds in the shade below (xi.38) ; proper treatment of the de..ad produces a healthier and more cooperative shade, so that for family members, apart from the powerful inAuence o f love and custom, it is particularly important not to offend those whom you will join.

Copyrighted material

so

DEATH IN THE BRONZE AGE

The idea that there is a collective gathering place of the dead, who form a new community, is not of course dependent on how many people are buried in a single tomb ; the community of the dead transcends the famiJy and village

group, although it is quite possible that, for some Greeks, the people of the next village would not be included in their own gathering . Do Spartans join

Athenians, or Naxians join Arkadians I Perhaps only if they fell in battle together." A community of corpses may establish rapport, as in the Homeric joke of the corpse assembly, l.v •«vwv ~yvp« (XVI.66t). From this point of view, the ~lycenaean family tomb may wen have influenced the imaginative form of the reunion in Hades. It is the theme of many Christian tombstones

too : We Will Meet Again In Heaven, or, on the Cambridge, Massachusetts, tomb of Thatcher Magoun, who died in 18go (fig. 7): A Household's Tomb ! To Faith How Dear! Part have Gone ! Part Linger Here !

United All in Love and Hope One Household Still! Together We shall Sleep T ogether We may Rise And Sing our Morning Hymn One Household Still! The motif is lovely, where there is Love, although the Greeks speculated as we do on what might happen when those who cordially disliked one another in life found themselves trapped eternally in the same bedroom-grave, th.alamos, or were forced to meet in Hades. When there is more than one wife or husband, serious problems of precedence, harmony and droit de mort may arise (fig. 8),

Fto. 7 T he tomb of Thatcher 1\•(agoun, d. t8go: Cambridge, Mass.

Copynghted rT'-:ttenal

DEATH IN THE BRONZE

Fto. 8

Ac£

51

Problems in f.'lmily tombs: Cambr.idgeJ N!ass.

and it is perhaps a mercy that no Creek poet exercises his talent on the recon· jugation of Eriphyle o r Klytaimestra. Aias' incivility to Odysseus is enough

(xi-541). The bedroom-grave a nd the under,•orld a re merged imaginatively as often as body and soul are. They are shaped the same, to some extent. I t is not that the I'v1ycenacan chambcr·tomb is a miniature replica of the configuration of the undcn\•orld; archacologicalJy the reverse might be true. The ~1yccnacan tomb is a practical construction with three functional parts: the dromos, or slanting downward path which leads in under a shelf of stable bedroek; the stomion or narrow mouth which is blocked up with stones or dirt, as much to keep animals and robbers out as the dead in; the ihalamos or inner chamber which may hold from one to twenty skeletons (fig. 9). It is a sensible, functional tomb, no more symbolic than a garage with a driveway and closed door. The words for its parts are used transferably, however, for the parts of the underworld in classical Greek.>• I< is not impossible that the old Bron•e Age tomb form which epic ignored but tragedy admired, in some way contributed to the poetic shape of Hades. The family has a p rivate replica of the underworld, with the damp path down, the narrow guarded door, and the chamber from which there is no exit, yet from which the occupant invariably disappears: the original model for the mystery of the locked room. In mythological and poetic imagery the Mycenaean tomb, viewed as a man.. made cave, fills some intermediate srage between a very archaic tradition of the forms and entrances of the underworld, and the classical picture. Sir Denys Page poinled out long ago how dose the Greek view of the underworld was to certajn real configurations in caverns under the limestone hills of southern Greece. Ul

Copy nghteo r 1tenal

52

DEATH rN THE BRONZ£

Ao£

F10. 9 A tholos tomb at Mycenae: the entrance to the Lion Tomb, fourteenth century B.c.

The Dirou·Pyrgou·Aicpotrypa caves of the Mani peninsula expand from the low dark entrance into a series of wider and ofien fantastic chambers and halls through which icy rivers run, or lakes spread out on sandy beaches, with water so black the fish are white. One can travel by boat through passages, past waterfalls and rocks like the rock hammered by the rivers in Oc!yssey x.515, or the \Vhite Rock of xxiv. t J. In some caves there must be hot springs, though

Copyngilted rJai nal

DEATH LN THE BRONZE AcE

53

whether fiery Pyriphlegethon is matched in nature I do not know- might it have been the reflection o f torches off the wate.r? 20 In these subterranean passages early men could easily become disoriented or trapped under the earth, and the p resence of an experienced guide would be welcome. Such dramatic caves were inhabited from Late Neolithic times at least, and others more o pen to daylight from Paleolithic. Some seemed like home, ochers were obvious entrances to a world the living could not normally reach. General ideas that death involves a plunge into earth or ocean, or into caves and lakes, with a crossing of water in the darkness, had natural support from the countryside. In early times the caves had an animal population which included the hyena a nd the pygmy hippopotamus. \Vas it too long ago to make one a model for Kerberos snapping in the dark, the o ther the misshapen and greedy Lamia making love in mud and water ? It may be that. both these underworld figures, with other bogies like Cello, Marmo and Empusa, take their iconographical form from Egypt, where both are well drawn.21 Lamia, an authoritative and persistent undcn'lorld lady, appe-.ars late in Greek literature, not before the fifth century, in company with Charon; she is fat, thick legged , stupid and inconveniently amorous; according to Aristophanes she smelled like a seal, and might be personally unclean about the lower parts, which were strangely adorned with testides.22 T he Egyptian tradition that a hippopotamus in the lake o f the dead devoured the souls of those who did not pass judgment, might conceivably be reinforced by old Greek encounters with a toothy and affectionate hippo in a dark river..cavc- bm it is, unfortunately, too likely that these animals were extinct before man moved into the caves and then out of them ; the monstrous tradition must be more recent. Caves have jagged, impressive rows of stalagmites and stalactites which arc not reproduced in the Greek vision of the underworld. Are they blended iuto

landmarks like the White Rock, the Gates of Hades, or of the Sun, or Dreams? Such gates merge with the caves of the su.n and tl1e wind, places like Tainaron the cave-entrance to the dead where the sun keep.r; his flocks, or places where bulls are driven into Pluto's caverns.2 a ,.,lost likely, the pointed rocks on roof and floor helped shape the long uneasy tradition of the stomwn, the mouth entrance to the undenvorld which roars and bites, with serrated teeth fixed, animal fashion, u p and down, the ceremonial mouth of hell which swallo\\'S everything at last, the uoivcrsaJ counterpart of the individual ker who swallowed Patroklos. But it is long ago and far away, beyond the grasp of seholars. Greeks who visited the underworld in a literary mood did not describe the landscape very precisely, being more interested in themselves and their friends o r eoemjes; so tl1e re lation between the underworld and the grave is rnjsty. In one the dead walk and talk, and in the other they sleep until called; the shallow chamber above having a mysterious but real connection to the larger hollow

below. The chamber and thclos tombs of the Bronze Age have a more vivid role

Copyrighted material

54

DEATH rN THE BRoNzE AcE

in classical drama than in epic poetry, probably because of revived antiquarian interest in the fifth ce.nuty, and a feelirlg chat tombs of the heroic age were properly ass()(;iatc;d with narratives of heroes' deaths. The picturesque death .. cavern of Auk tragedy was the more imposing for its connection with the impressive architecture of lholos tombs, and the ghastly thrill of speculation that the o ld dead were still vibram inside. The death-ca vern-priSOI'• o f Antigo1le fuses the cave, the grave and the undcnvorld masterfully, with witnesses standing, like Odysseus in the .Nek]Uz,just outSide the mouth of the chamber of horrors to

watch the dead. For a natural cave the place is surprisingly architectural 1 a "rocky excava~ion" (774), a "roofed tomb " (886), a "walled-off earth-heaped strange tombn {849), a u rock-spread hollow bridal chamber of death " ( 1204); urun up close," says Krc..-on, "stand by the tomb and look, push through the narrow place we piled the rocks, enter the si<JmiOit" ( r2r4f.). Sophokles and Euripides surely had picnicked in the country, at Menidi or l\.farathoo or T horlkos, and their stage tombs huve little to do with contemporary grAves in Ad1ens.24 The bedroom of the dead shifts frorn earth's surface co deep below, and keeps the sleeper private. Kapancus' holy pyre turns swiftly into a thalamos (Suppliant Wqmr.n 8go); Rhesus lives o n, aware, in his ca vern in che silver mines (Rl~esos 970); the lluJamos which takes all men (Ant(~on• 804) merges with the lhakunos of Persephone (S11ppliant Women 1022). The grave blends with the guest room of the queen below. In grave or ghostly guest room, the belief that "he is not dead but sleeping,. was"""') <•ld col'nfotl. How :ttlive :wei awal"e the sleeper st.-.yed was Ullknown. A

Mycenaean tcrracotta exhibits a couple under a blanket, in bed or dc.ad or both (fig. 10). Could scxualac~ivity still occur among corpses? Euripides makes

t'tc. 10 A couple in bed, or dead : Mycenaean terracotta, thirteenth century B.c.

CopynghtE'C miltenal

DEATH lN TH£ BRONZE AGE

1. -'10. 11

55

The cradle and grave of Mary Wigglesworth,

aged one: Cambridge, iv(ass.

Theseus laugh at the idea that the dead could make new children together in the womb of earth (Suppliant Womm 545) ; the dead in groups arc usually thought of as passive and infertile, although death-and-rebirth fertility themes may apply to individua ls in religious mysteries. Even ,.,,.hen the folk-motif of the Bride o f Death was used, the bridal with Hades had no real implications of lasting or overtly sexual union. Parents who placed a wedding loutrophoros on the tomb of a child who died before marriage were not necessarily hoping to arrange a substitute marriage with death, so much as they were trying to ma ke the child's cut-off life more complete and happy, affirming that the regular stages of maturity and marriage had been at lea$t potential in his interrupted career. 20 In more northerly parts of the world in later times it was a matter of sporadic local custom to marry the dead, to dra'v up a marriage contract between a dead boy and girl so that they could be happy together below; and the Romans sometimes provided a dead woman for every ten dead soldiers as a camp-follower ln the underworld- the Greeks were less routinely physical. There were, certainly, rhetorical flourishes like Amigones "0 tomb, 0 bridal chamber " (891), and mythological marriages like the sacrifice of Polyxena to the dead Achilles, but the Greek sleepe r was not usually restless for a woman

Copyrighted matenal

DEATH IN THE BRoNzE AoE

(the Hero ofTemesa was an exception); and if, in Mycenaean tombs, children were buried in niches outside the door in the dromos, it was surely because it was too much trouble to unblock dte door for such slight burdens, rather than out of any fear that they would witness midnight revelry at too early an age. The ~iycenaeans seem to have sbared with most Mediterrane--an peoples the natural be lief that the dead went on a journey from the burial house to a lower world. \Vc cannot tell how they thought this happened-whetber quickly, at death, or eventually, when the Oesh and ligaments had dissolved. To judge from the remaining evidence, early Greeks were no more clear or consistent on this point than their descendants were, and entertained a confusion rather like the corpse in Aristophanes who is brieOy tempted to carry baggage to Hades (Frogs 170f.). CcrtajnJ)1 Myccnaeans had a tradition of putting gifts in the grave, as most peoples do, whether to share the last good things of life with the dead, to show respect and affection, to help the transition in the chamber, or to supply the journey toward the distant waUcd town of the charioteer king. The usual gifts a rc weapons, jewelry, and vases~ most. often laid near the he.ad and hands, or at the feet. The vases arc designed for liquids, aromatic sub· stances, and oil; occasionally there is a little solid food, meat on the bone or shellfish. The most recent dead in any tomb are neatly arranged; they would have been washed and dressed in good clothes as for marriage or any other crisis. The gifts are in a sense part of the cost.umej the sword and dagger, the gemstone, the smith's tools or che priest's implements complete a man's identity underground, more surely than they help him in fu ture spiritual life. Most archaeologists agree that after a decent interval the Mycenaeans felt free to take these gifts back &om the dead who no longer needed them, when they piled the older bones against the walls to make way for newcomers. Sometimes they were startled or embarrassed when the skeleton they were shifting was still intact, the transition not quite finished yet; once at Perati they apologized, as one might after bumping an old gentleman, and gave the incompletely dissolved corpse some new sc.asheUs and a fresh pillow.26 One cannot understand the " meaning" of such gifts, because in a sense they are meaningless, or mean more:. chan one thing, and are not quite in the realm of rational gtsture. If, in a burial, the weapons are in working condition while the vases are dented or misshapen in firing, this tells us nothing about the supposed perce ptive power of the dead : it is rlOt that the dead man will be angry, if the living withhold his sword or spear; it is not that he is too stupid to understand that the vases arc damaged. h is a practical matt.cr; the weapon was his and he may want it; the vases were bought cheap for the occasion. There is no reason to believe that the Mycenaeans feared the dead particularly, or took precautions against ghosts of ill will, as we may pretend in dithyrambic mome.nts. Their behavior toward the dead is pract ical. sensible, an expression of tradition which is not thought out afresh on each burial. TI1c.rc arc some

Copyrighted material

57

DEATH IN THE BRONZE AGE

oddities worth observing, although they are rare enough that they cannot imply general belief a nd practice.27 Mycenaean dead are g iven more drink than food, in kraters, cups, jars and feeding-bottles for infants. The dead in many cultures are rumored to be thirsty, and our commun.icat..ion with them is more commonl}' by toast and libation than by food. The "thirsty ones," the di-pi-si-jt>-i o f a fe w Pylos Linear B texts are sometimes inte rpre ted as the dead, in a local euphemism, although the word may as easily represent a place name.28 In Egyptian beliefit was important fo r the newly dead to drink cold fresh water in th e underground (fig. 12) . 29

f'10. 12 Drinking the fresh waters of the land of the dead: Egyptian papyrus, the Book of the Dead of Lady Cheritwebeshet.

Liquid is promi1\CtH o n the Haghia Triadha sarcophagus, in the rite for the dead, and blood from the sacrificed bull may serve the same purpose, just as blood flowed TVA~pvTov around the corpse of Patroklos (XXIIL34).30 Geometric: evidence is ambiguous, especially if the holes in the bases of the big Dipylon vases were designed for post-supports and not for libations* but a preference for liquids is still suggested by the shapes of the vases in the graves.3 1 The first Greek HToLenmahl .. reliefs, which begin to be made in the Aegean world around 450 B.c. under eastenl in fl uence, consiste ntly stress d rink more than food (fig. 13) .32 u Drink .. (and where not to d rink) is a primary instruction

Copyrighted material

5s

DEATH IN THE BRoNzE AoE

t"'ro. 13

Relief of the dead man drinking at a banquet: from Thasos, c. 450 u.c.

on the so-called Orphic gold-leaf guides for the dead, as in the fourth-century text from Pharsa.los in Thessaly:

In the halls of Hades you will find on the right a spring, with a white cypress lxsidc it. Go nowhere ncar this spring, but farther on you will find cold water running from the Lake of Memory. Above it are guards . .. You tell them the whole truth ... "I am dry with thirst, allow me to drink from the spring."33

The thirsty dead are also involved in the painting of the so-called Leaky Pithos of the later sixth century (fig. 14). The little winged figures are clearly not Plato's punished daughte.-. of Danaos filling an ever-leaking jar, but small male psychai, or even the daimon "guards," who may serve drink to the meritorious and parched newcomer to the underworld.34 The deep thirst of the dead was in some way alleviated by gifts in the to mb and for the journey> while the unde,r world made its own arrangements for hospitality. The popularity of the u pilgrim Aask •• in ~~Iycenaean burials of the eastern Mediterra nean from about 1400 B.c. onward may well reflect this ultimately eastern nervousness about the consequences of losing the liquids of life?• It is hard, sometimes, to understand the mood in which people tried to satisfy the physical needs of the dead, and as hard to in terpre t the gestures made to support the lonely spir it. \Vas it for companionship or transportation that several horses and some dogs were buried in Mycenaean tombs? (Some dogs

Copyrighted material

DEATH IN THE BRONZE AG£

59

ftG. 14 \ Vinged daimons pouring liquid in the underworld ; Sisyphos : Auic black-figun:d amphora, lale sixth c.entUC)' D.C.

were trapped inside while chasing rabbits; but other intrusive animals like tortoises, hedgehogs and bats o ffer no insight into ancient funeral practice.) 36

The horses and dogs arc often discussed in connection with the funeral of Patroklos in the iliad, for Homer usually colors the archacologises view of the Bronze Age. Patroklos= horses arc not poetic-ally special, not s ingled out as being his favor ites, or a s valuabJe captives in battle; t he whole P~"'ssagc is remarkable for its speed arld cortdet1satiort, as AchiiJes d rh•es the four horses up

the timber pyre and groans aloud (XXIll. J?O). More attemion is given to the two dogs who get their throats cut, since they arc Patroklos' own and will stay with their master in death, up to a point not clear to us. None of the bones of sacrifice, hum,lo or animal, are collected with Pat.roklos' ; Achilles stresses that his frie nd lies apart from the TtOjan capti,,es a!ld hor"Ses whose temains are mingled, epimix (242) . The peculiar and partly unreal form of a n Homeric funeral screens from us the feel ings which were expressed at a real ceremonial horsc·burial. If Patroklos were not pure poetr)', if an archaeologist should hope to have stum bled upon h is first temporary grave o r h is second less-renowned joint tomb wid\ Achillcs,3 ' what would he sec? No marker, and a small p atch of ground, ""~'fJov 6' ;<4Jw. r.oM6v (~4.5), the gold j ar holding the valia nt bones noL in it (254), mixed scrapings from the pyre consisting of boy, warhorse, dog, sheep and ox, a nd the grandeur of 1/i.ad X..Xlll as vanished as the \\rinds Boreas and Zcphyros when they stopped blowing the flamcs.38 The tradiLion behind the scene w~lS d ifferent, a reflection of~'" old IndoEuropean custom which seems to have nearly faded out in Mycenaean Greece.

ov

Copynghted fTlatenal

6o

DEATH lN THE BRONZE AGE

where horses were probably expensive, and which intended the warrior's lifelong companion to be wi[h him in death, a mark of dignity, leadership and affection. It was a sign of individual grandeur, a continuation of kingly rank and of the favorite endeavors of life, to be buried with a chariot and team as one had live-d on the battlefield. Even though we have suffered a loss or transmutation of such desire-s proper to a warrior society, the same instincts sometimes surface in America today, as witnessed in an interesting letter to Ann Landers : I'm not on my deathbed, bm I'm getting on in years. .. . I have a modest collection of antique automobiles.... The car I love best is a 1937 Dodge ... \vhenever I look at thac great automobile, it makes me feel good aU over.... Instead of a casket, I'd like to be sitting at the wheel and lowered into the ground.39 Here is the ancient pleasure in the horse and in the prestige which it conferred, transferred nearly intact to its mechanized successor, drawing upon the same set of feelings as must have stirred the princes of tvlaratllon in Attica or Salamis in Cyprus, or the simple1· archaic Athenians who wished to be bur-ied with a horsehead amphora (fig. 15) . The rare r.onfirmcd examples of horse-burial in Il-lycenaean Greece (fig. 16) may be supplemented by less e.xpensive fune ral versions of painted chariot-

FIG. 15 Horses moun1ing lhe dead: Attie black-figured amphora. early sixth century n.c.

Copyrighted material

DEATH IN THE BRoNzE

AoE

Fro. 16 Mycenaean horse- burial in the tholos tomb at Marathon.

kraters or terracotta horse-and-chariot miniatures. 40 The focus seems to

remain on the burial, and not on providing transportation for the journey to the hereafter. If epic tradition intended that human captives, dogs, and horses should accompany the dead man on his road, it does not care to exhibit this funeral throng in Hades; the sacrificed alien and the soul-less animal have slipped away." Even the horse with his own grave at Marathon is less likely to be a daimonic three-legged Death Horse than a proper memorial for the soldier who bred and trained him, an older parallel for the mourning of Achilles' horses over their dead charioteer, K.:\V1"0nwMs- like the lord of the dcad.42 The motif persists with the chariot and horses of the M ausoleum, the

grave of Alexander's Boukephalos, and, in some sense, ancient and modem equestrian memorial statues. Horse and dog burials express part of a continuum of feeling and ceremony

which flows from the moment of death through the escort of the dead man to his tomb (still partly sentient?), to the funeral games celebrating him, and then- but we do not know how far?~.m the journey to the other world. Vignettes survive on the painted kraters of M ycenaean Greece and Cyprus.

Copyrighted material

DEATH I N THE BRoNzE AoE

FJO. 17 uTheir Favorite,. faithful in death:

Cambridge, Mass. The dead man is escorted upright in his chariot, shrouded, accompanied by a groom and sometimes by fooLSold iets with swords and speatS, just as il\ e kphota scenes on later Geometric vases. Occasionally there arc painted excerpts from the funeral games, belt·V.'T'csders or spear· throwers, or pairs of boxers flourishing at each o ther with gay science (fig. 18). So Nestor in his youth boxed at the funeral games of K ing Amarynkeus (XX111.634·), or Epeio' threatened at the fUneral games of PatrokJos, "I will break right through his meat a nd smash his bones" (673). Funeral games were celebrated in a similar style on both sides of the Dark Ages, a traceable clement in epic tradition, *3 and the honor they p aid to the dead man was probably apparent to him in his tomb, since he had not yet wholly released his grasp on the uppe r world."

Ftc . tS Mycenaean boxers at the fut\eral games: thirteenth century.

CopynghtE'C miltenal

6g

DEATH IN THE BRONZE AGE

The unbroken continuity of funeral imagery and behavior between the Bronze Age and the classical world is ve.ry clear in the artistic documents that survive from the earlier period. There are only slight differences in style, and none in concept, between the mourning women mounted on rims of M ycenaean bowls, and the mourning women of sixth·ccntury Attica on bowls for liquid or

the comers of gaming tables (figs. 19, 32). They are extracts from a familiar tradition of washing the dead and making the standard gestures to accompany the g..s of lamentation." T he files of mourning women on the Mycenaean coffins of Tanagra make Ihe same gestures, like women on the funeral loutro· phoros-hydria of archaic Athens. The prothesis scenes are equally formally linked, although the Mycenaean painter may show the dead man sleeping inside his transparent coffin like a baby in his cradle whereas the Geometric

painter (to whom coffins were unfamiliar because he normally cremated) raises the subject on his funeral couch preparatory to burning. The Mycenaean may also be raised on a bier while the mourners tear their hair beside him.46 These are unpracticed pictures dravm from the o bservation of real events,

perhaps influenced by prototypes in Egypt, but quickly established as one of the Greek scenes which had the most profound meaning in the life of the community, survivi ng all the cultural and econom_ic vicissitudes of the Dark Ages as the most stable tradition in art, save scenes of war.

The otherworldly aspects of death, as conceived of in the Bronze Age, arc naturally harder to appreciate because they are so rare in art. Occasionally the

dead man seems to continue his journey beyond the tomb by chariot, drawn by supernatural animals/1 or he may, rarely, be equipped with special boots

for the road, like Viking hell-shoes. The two pairs of Mycenaean clay boots from Attica are painted with patterns at the ankles whkh may suggest wings

(fig.

21 ) .

T he form of tall boot with curled toes may be Hittite, and liittite gods

Fto. 19 Moddled mourners on the rim. and painted sirens:

Attic black-figured bowl, early sixth century.

Copyrighted material

Fto. 20 Vlomcn mourning the dead in his coffin: l\{ycenaean larnax from Tanagra, Boiotia, thirteenth centur y.

--

FJo. 21 Mycenaean day boot with wi,n glike patterns at the heel: from a tomb at Voula, Attica, thirteenth century.

Fto. !:1:2 The J udgement of Paris, Hermes wearing winged boots: lace seventh·century Attic fragment.

Copyngilted rJai nal

DEATH IN THE BRONZE AGE

had winged ankles; the same boot appears in a rchaic Greek art as the " lovely sandals u of Hermes, Ko..\.o., which carried him over the liquid sea or endless earth as messenger or psychopomp (fig. 22). The facsimile boolS in the grave would keep a man from what Aikman called &"]~•Ms &Mo, bootless strength {I.tg), stumbling on the road ; the concept re-emerges in Geometric Athens; and later in South Italy an entire sarcophagus is ma de in the form of a shoc.48 To ride or walk to Hades presupposes a body, but the ~Myccnaca.ns also sent the disembodied soul. One of the big T a nagra coffins shows this image flying tentatively on bat1ikc wings from its coffin house to its new home while the mourners sway and scratc h their blood y cheeks around the body (fig. 23) . The leathery flanges of wing along the arms, unfcat hc rcd, look like earlier imagi· native models for the fa med Odysst)' simile in which the suitors pass to the undcnvorld squeaking like bats, disturbed and fluttering in a huge cavern (xxiv.6). T his is the first Pv·che in G reek a rt, an impressive rendition of t he invisible. On two o ther coffins the passing seems to be rendered in the different image of the sou l-bird , which the Egyptians had long used and which classical Greeks would still find appropriate. T he bird stalks through a Howery meadow behind two soldiers, o r, in a magnificent construction at the four corners of a coffin lid-four corners to my bed, fou r angels round my head-the soulabirds alight from their Right upon sun-discs set between hOm$ of consecration.t9 Such glimpses into M ycenaea.n fantasy about death are rare; more commonly they expressed their ideas through images of animals invested with a significance

Ftc. 23 The winged image of the dead woman flies off: Mycenaean lamax from Tanagra, Boiotia, thirteenth century.

Copyrighted material

66

DEATH IN TH£ BRONZE Ao£

now mainly obscure to us. In the fourteenth and thirteenth centuries both Minoan Crete (partly occupied by mainland Greeks) and parts of Greece turned increasingly to hunting themes in funerary contexts. .tlunting art had not been traditional in Crete, bu t it was intimately connected with ideas of death in early mainland Greece, from the time of the Shaft Graves onward. 'W hen these ideas s pread to Crete following the .Myccno.tcan occupation of the island, they began to appear on the painted coffins whicl• Crete made before Greece adopted them. T he-se late Cretan coffins often show wild animals wandering pe.acefully in the fields, sometimes among cult symbols which belonged to older religious generations, like double axes and horns of consecration. Such bulls and deer and goats seem to be protected in rustic s~mctuarics, expressive of the ancient Cretan spiritual intimacy with nature. In the thirteenth century, however, the consecrated and protected animal may become the victim of a human hunter \\tho spears it or pulls it down with hunting dogs. The connection wi th the grave may be through Lhe role of the sacrificial animal who becomes holy as it d ies. There is some vision on these coffins comparable to Semonides of Amorgos' vision of ephcmcroi, human cattle or game grazing at grass with god 's protection, then suddenly called co a death which has earned a mea1ting in violence. A deliberate deepening of the motif comes from the number of

F1o. 24 The funerary hunt : Minoan larnax fl'om Armenoi~ Crete, thirteenth century.

Copyrighted material

DEATII IN TilE BRONZE A GE

a nimals who are sh own suc.kling their young and playing with them, as the hun ter and hounds come up to kiH them. The parental shock and sepa ration is the keynote on sevtral coffins, a doc \<\•ith her fawn in a place fuU of flowers with elements of sea-life, perhaps magical, watching her mate killed in front of a drawn game net. Or, a peaceful herd is suddenly so dinupted by death that the birds fly off upside down in shod: at the violence (fig. •4) ; the animal plays some double role as sacral and as k_illcd, as at the Attic Boupbonia.ao Death by hunting can be joined to an image of the journey overseas. I n a series of awkward but impressive studies on the spc:ctacular lama."C from Episkopi. panels of animals nuning their young :and being suddenly attacked by hunten and hound• fonn a background or environment. While they are being speared and trapped, a boat .. haped chariot drawn by a hornless bull travels over the sea '""a\'CS (represent«! by an octopus ,._,.ith rippling tentacles). The passengen face outward in n weightless, dissociated stance, already departed.

P1o. 25 Animals and their )'oung, hunters and hounds, dead 1ravclling in a bull-c.hariot 0\·~r th~ octopu.s-wowcs: Minoan lamax from EptJk.opi, Crete, thirteenth century.

1h~

68

DEAT H IN THE BRONZE AGE

Among their gins is a ratde, a precursor of the ra ttle music {a ghost-staying mechanism ?) shown in Geometric graveside scenes. The whole complex suggests unexpected d isruption of fertile life on this side, combined with a grand ceremonial procession to an over-Seas haven like Elysion or the Isles of the Blest, in mixed images of happy hunting grounds and the ultimate voyage. Simpler coffins may use only the octopus, or a ship.5 1 Mainland coffins are generally Jess pastoral or sea-minded, more focused on the act of mourning, as classical funeral art would be. Files of men and women pass along the coffin body making formal gestu res of grief, or look out of windows as in Near Eastern iconography. The Tanagra coffins also include strange scenes of bull-jumping, of hunters with their dogs pulling down wild goats, and of chariots with escorts. T he hunting scenes seem to be connected with real praccice in certain parts of Greece, to judge from the presence of heads of wild goats buried in some chamber tombs at. Tanagra among the hu man skelecons. Stags and buiJs arc also found in thirteenth-century combs on the wcl)t coast near Pylos, although these may be later offerings to the dead. 52 TI1ese are only sporadic and very rare signs of the direction in which Mycenaean

Fto. 26 The sphinx at the column: from Tanagra, Boiotiat thirteenth century.

~·lycenaean larna.~

Copynghted matenal

DEATH IN THE BRoNzE AcE

6g

Greek thinking a bout death was being crystallized in the last phases of the Bronze Age, but they sugge-st a real connection between practke and the traditions of oral epic, emerging in the standard Homeric image of the death hunt. Tbe mourners, chariots, hunters, winged PSJ~tht a nd soul·bird were joined, at Tanagra, by the monster who would be the favored associate of tombs in classical times, the sphinx. The sphinx was an o ld fo rmal familiar of the M ycenaeans, as of the ~!inoans, but it was only in the thirteenth century that she really came alive, reproducing and suckling young, and moving into the funerary sphere. Here is the prototype of the ktr of dead1, the attenda nt on the corpse if not its swallower; perhaps because o f the limitations of Mycenaean artistic technique she had not yet, apparently, assumed the role o f demon lover, the " esprit avide de sang et de plaisir 11rotique," who in late archaic Greece combines the snatching of the dead with the passionate p ursuit of handsome youths.•• She is still a slightly remote agent of the supernatural who, as she touches the central pillar of the coffin-house (fig. 26), suggests a theme still current in modem Greek laments for the dead: Four columns of my house, I bid you good-night, T ell my wife I'll come at n ight no more; Four columns of the house~ I bid you good evening, T ell my father I'll come at evening no more.M· The broke.n column was popular as a monument in Victorian cemeteries (fig. 27); the Mycenae.an column, in the same manner, united the de.ad man with the image of his house which would now lose its support: Arehilochos' dead Megatimos a nd Aristophoon, the lofty pillars of Naxos ([t6] D.); Aischylos' Hfooted column of the high roof"; Pindar's shorn oak that kept the palace up (Agamnnnon 897, P)"lhian IV.267). T he sphinx who wi.ll escort the dead also pro tects the house, and on another coffin she sits to guard it in the classic position of the archaic tomb-sphinx. These Bronze Age pat.tcrns of thought. and representation, the tomb as a house for the body, the soul in a new home, the mourning in files and be$ide the coffin or bier, the psycltt, the soul· bird and the sphin.x·ker-were not all developed spontaneously on the Greek mainland without influence from abroad. The natural source for such influence was Egypt, which had the grandest, most monumental, and most detailed funerary tradition of the ancient world. T he mechanics of transmitting some of the Egyptian ideas and some physical forms to Greece is not at all clear yet. T here were Greek visitors to Egypt, of course, traders and mercenary sold iers, especially in the later Eighteenth Dynasty and the Ninete.e nth Dynasty reigns of Ramses ll a nd Merenptah. G-G The contact was never very strong; there is almost nothing beyond small amulets and trinkets of Egyptian manufacture as souvenirs on the mainland; we have no

Copyrighted material

70

DEATH IN THE BRONZE AGE

'

' ~

,..

Fw. 27 The Broken Column : uineteemlH:enlltry funentl tnoouanent. way of detecting the ideas and image-makjng capacities which mig1n have come back throttgh visitors. The !.evant mig hc have been a partial source, 1hrough Ugarit or llyblos, where the sarcophagus of Ahiram b1 a pproximately contem,)()rary w it11 the Tanagra coffins, shows undeniable Egyptian influence and has simila r figures of mourners on the ends.56 The mainlanders do nol ;-1 dopt F.:gyptian styles, or all beliefs, of course; yet certain established practices in Egypt seem to exist behind some of the oddities of both Bronze Age and archaic iconography :\nd tnytlt ir} Greece. The BI"'nze Age contacts from the fifteenth to the [welfth centuries s.c. were reinforced in the seventh century with the foundation of Naukratis as a Nile trading post; a nd !)Omc clements of the Greek canon which seem late, like Charon the fcrryma1'1 1 may be added onto an earlier influe nce which had al_rcad }' been absorbed and cransformed in tl1e rviycenaean period so as co appeat outward ly

Greek.

CopynghtE'C miltenal

DEATH IN THE BRONZE

Am:;

7'

Fta. 28 Charon lookir)g backwards: Attic whitc·ground Jekrthos fragment, fifth century.

The boatman carrying souls across a shallow river-lake to their new

com~

munity is a good emblem of the kinds of complications met when u·ying to trace traditions which appear in two cultures in rather different forms; there is no way to rnake a direct connection between Greek Charon, the traveler in h.is hairy sailor's cap whose head may be averted like other death-figures', and the Egyptian Seth, the ferryman, the lord of storm.61 Charon docs not look much

like Egyptian models but he functions like his counterparts in Egypt and

'

Fro. 29 Charon in a sailor-c..1.p poling his ferry: Auic white-ground lekythos, filth century.

Copynghted r1atenal

DEATH IN THE BR.ONZE ACE

Mesopotamia while keeping a local vitality. Bc,caus.c his name docs not seem Greek and he appears relatively late in Grec;k litf'.rature and art, he is probably not whoUy indigenous, but smoothly adopted and camouflaged. In the same way, the concepts of maka·r, of the Elysian J:"iclds and the lalu Fields, of the soul-bi rd, the fruitS and waters of the underworld or the we ighing of the dead, which appear both Egyptian and Greek traditions of death, present real difficulties for those who assume direct transference-but at the same time they exhibit close and instinctively-sensed connections. The two ser.s of ideas and themes cannot be wholly separated; it would be a matter for wonder if the rich Egyptian iconography o f tbe dead had not affected the growing Greek interest the topic in the Bronze Age and the archaic period, and wonderful if that influence had not been quickly Hellenized. Egyptian ceremony focused on the intact survival of both body and mind, and wa.s supported by an opulent offering of life's goods to the dead. These natural hopes are less confident in Greece, when eschato logy is first marginally discussed in .Homer, aod probably the Greeks always accepted death as a d rastic and generally bodiless translation to an unknowable new condition; Grecl. hop<:s are more concentrated on intelligence and fame than on nourish~ mcnt for flesh which they knew was not immortal. Hesiod 1s description of the Isles of the Blessed is conseq uently surprising, in going beyond the gifts of drink and food offered at Greek graves, and raising for modern scholars a range of spectres, heroes, who demand more extended

m

m

service in some "Elysian pnradise." &8 "And they live with ne) sorrow C)n tl1cir

spirit in the islands of the blessed beside the deeply swirling Ocean, prosperous heroes for whom tl•e grain-giving field bears honey-hearted harvest ripening three times a year, far away from the immortal gods" ( WDrks and Days 170f.). 4 ' Hero'' can sometimes mean little more than soldier, sometimes simply a dead man, sometimes one who is especially honored in liiC and death; 59 but Hcsiod seems to be the first to make a hero both happy and hungry. Pindar, too, in his odd eschatological fragmenl<, remarks how special dead men are removed from weather and can cat without labor, not disturbing the earth with their hands' scratching (O!;mpian II.6>). This paradise where the dead hunger and eat lies on the Islands if lhe Makare.s, like Hcsiod•s, where ocean breezes cool the climate and gold shjnes in the trees; or where Aowering prosperity blossoms for them as the dead play games, ptJJoi, or amuse themselves with music, horses and exercise, in a meadow red with roses, in a land heavy with gold fruit (fr. 114--, a,b B). These ideas arc very much those tbc Egyptians had long expressed about the paradise of the dead, tbe Stkhet lalu (laru), the Jalu Fields or Fields of ReedsThose dead who had qualified as maakhtrll lived there in pleasure: "Of the going in and coming out of the underworld, for a stay in the lalu Field, to be mighty there, to be blissful there . _. to cat there, to drink there, to be a

Copyrighted material

DEATH IN THE BRONZE AOE

73

husband there and to discharge all functions there as on earth." 80 This is like

the earlier Coffin Spells for the Field of Offerings, the Seklul Hetepu, " I row in its lakes and arrive at its cities ... I equip this your field ''lbich you love ... that I may be content and be mighty in it, that. I may cat and drink in it, that I may plow and reap in it, that I may make love and awaken in it. , . . I have

not perished and I have not been apprehensive in it . .. 11 ; 61 like Greek divinities with careless, happy spirits, v <xo~« (Works and Days 1 ;o). Aifaakhtru seems one of the few certain Egyptian loan-words into Greek although there are etymological problems. Maakheru described the dead man who had passed judgment in the undenvorld, the dead man who had the voice to pronounce the proper formulas before the judge, who was thenceforth

"justified by a voice before god, happy, blessed." T his is Greek ma.kar, or makarios.62 In early Greek, the makaru are usually the blessed gods, p.&K<J.fXS 8€ol, who lack nothing, who feast and make love and sleep

&~(~ o~~~~~

<xovT<s. Hesiod's Islands of the Blessed are not inhabited by gods but by the dead "far from the gods"; so the Egyptians thought of the Sekhet Jalu as opposite the gods, but corresponding. The dead oature of r.he makar persists in Greek alongside the eternally blessed nature, as though the significance .of the word had split two ways when it hit the basic Greek belief in the dark sad life of the dead: one aspect clung to the happy gods, one to those dead who were somehow excepted from the general rules of Hades. So Hesiod, burying the silver generation, makes them underground or chthonian nuzkaru, ro4 ply VrroxUOvw' p&xapEs fJV7]To'io; KaMoVTa' (Works a!ld Days l.j-1); Aischylos, too, in calling on the spirits of the dead, d..UCa KAtiovTEs, JMi~.Etk (Aischylos, PersianJ 633),o.:~ as it is still used in modern Greek. Plague-stricken Athenians who "rose from the dead " were called blessed and practically immortal, i,..aKap/{oVTo (T hucydides ll.51 .6) ; and there is a usefu.l definition in Hesychios~cad man: 11Ulkario.s: corpse, 0 nBvEWs· IA-axO.pto~· & J.IEKp&r.6' It is a word without good etymology in Greek, a word whose aspects are all traditional and richly deployed in Egypt. In Egypt the blessed dead live on islands in the waters of a great lake filled with reeds, where there are winding watcn'lays like the Lake of the Hippopotamus, and a ferryman to help the crossing. The lake may hold devourers, j ust as a hippopotamus is often one of the devourers for those dead condemned

in the underworld. T he islands arc usually four, called, to the best of my knowledge, Peaceful, Verdant, X, and y _e.s

On these islands, according to Egyptian pictures of the Eighteenth and Nineteenth Dynasties, the dead plowed and reaped and finally banqueted, working for a living and for the grace of the gods. 66 In the Greek adaptation of

the idea of the Islands of the Blessed, the dead did not need to work, but food came spontaneously to them ; they shared the life of the gods, at a distance from

Copyrighted material

74

DEATH IN THE BRONZE AGE

them, while the Egyptians continued as dependants and servants of the gods and worked to cat. After the Persian \Vars and the basic revolution in ideas wh ich marked the fifth century, the Greek dead were also provided v.rith wives, sexual satisfaction, and honor, on the \Vhite Island in the Black Sea and other remarkable spots dose enough to the edges of the world to seem mysterious, yet accessible enough to receive the marks of worship which had more a literary than a practic."ll tone. &1 For earlier times, it was odd enough that the dead should require food and should rejoice in the surroundings o f paradise, matters alien to the central tradition. As the Greek dead play games, and cat, and enjoy the blessings of fresh cold water, and of the gold fruits of the tree, the pictures and texts of the life of the Egyptian dead offer some striking analogies. There, the dead d rink from streams of fresh cold water, and arc offered frui ts of the tree, painted yellow, by the kind tr~-fairy. There is an obvious analogy to the torture ofTantalos in the Odyssey undcnvorld, d uring which the water sank away from the sinner's lips and the trees to5Scd their fruit too hig h for him to touch, toward the shadowy clouds (xi.582f.). The touches of landscape and atmosphere, of growing plants and water, a re odd indeed in che darkness of Hades, and so is the emphasis on

FIG. 30 Egyptian "tree-fairy," fruit and water for che dead and the ba-soul: Tomb ofTjanefer. Thebes, Eighteenth Dynasty.

DEATH IN THE BROJ>ZE AOE

75

the sinner's hunger and thirst from which the normal PSJCitt is free., a.s Lucian did not fail to remark. It is possible that a fragment of c:xh:uology borrowed from Egypt was used by the poet for its picturesqueness, to replace the version of TantaiOJ' punishment preferred by Archilochos and others, the stone hung over his hcad. 11 The happy Egyptian dead supplied with water and fruit are often accompanied by their ba-birds, or ba-souls. The ba-soul has a portrait face on a feathered body, and functioned as an agent to reintegrate a dead pcrsonj it could hover over a stiff corpse with the mtkh·sign oflifc, or fly into the dead man so that he awoke to energy and could walk away with the a"klt-sign in his hand (fig. 3' ). The ba could mediate between the living and the dead, bringing the

Fto. 31 The 6a-soulen1ering the dead 10 make him quick: Book of the Dead of :'\eferrenper, Nineteenth Dynasty.

sustenance of funeral gills from the earth's surface to the deep tomb, Rying down the tomb shaft from the upper chamber to the sleeping dead. There is little doubt that the Egyptian ba-soul was the model for the Creek soul-bird and for its mythological offshoots the Siren and the Hnrpy, both or whom had intense and ofien sustaining relations with the dend.eD So far ns one can tell from pictures, as Hcrodotos said about the phoi.nix, the ha~bird looks very like

TJa

D£ATII

r.N T>r'E BA.ONZ'E Aoe

the soul-birds of both Bronze Age and Orientalizing Greece except for the portrait head t it shares with the Harpy the task of hovering O\'er the dead or transporting them, a nd with the Siren the task of the S'p iritual nourishment of of the dead; the Greek Siren more naturally stimulates the intelligence than

tbe flesh. Another traditional Egyptian theme with repercussions in Greece is the weighing scene of death, 70 with the dead man's heart in its preservative jar set in the balance against the feather of Ma 1at, Truth or Justice, while the

Devourer stands by the Judge. The first funeral scales of Greece appeared at the very beginning of tl•e Mycenaean age, in the Shaft Graves and a few of the richer burials of Late Helladic I-11, when there was only fitful contact with Egypt, and it is impossible to know whether the butterfly stamped on some Shaft Grave scale-pans might signify the soul as it did occasionally later. Perhaps the old Greek idea, which began w lapse in later Mycenaean times, was partly connected with a tradition at the funeral of Hittite kings, when a Wise \Voman heaped jewels in one scale-pan, and brick dust, mortal dust, in the other." 1 The classical Greek PJJ
judges of the dead, Minos alone or with IUs colleagues Rhadamanthys and Aiakos, are neglected in the vision of the underworld between Homer and Plato, and when they do appear they do not make judgments with scales, but with the sceptre and rod of an earthly king who must make decisions~ The scales belong to Zeus-ZEii~ y&.p Tot ,.o .,.QAavTov &nppErru IDon a:Mcp ( Tluognis 157)--<>r his deputy Hermes, and in their normal function they arc, like prophecy and oracle, indicators of inescapable fact, death, rather than adjuncts to the administration ofjustice. (The scales ofjustice seem to appear fint in the Hymn to Hermes, where there is a set for each contestant: I(EiO, yO.p &.p.tfoorlpo'o' ~IJ<71r> I(O.TJK~aTo Tci.\c.trrc.z.

(324)}. The image of the weighing of the dead has been altered, clearly, from the Egyptian motif of weighing an individual against an abstract principle of virtue, toward a more competitive principle of weighing one fighter against another, while the element of the Devourer has been absorbed into the individ· ual /m; the theme is fairly rare in Greece and is ID)'tbologieally restricted, but it does seem to have been linked originally to several odter rich and picturesque elements of Egyptian eschatology absorbed and transformed in the Hellenic imagination. The Isles of the Blessed and the four islands of Egyptian paradise where the blessed dwell, the former u near Ocean" and the latter across the

Copyrighted material

DEATH

m

THE BRo:o~z£ A o£

17

Lake, the hippopotamus devourer, the reeds, the ferryman, the fiery river, the

fields of grain, gold fruit and clear water, and easy life of bodily enjoyment, moaklrnv and m.t~ktJru, the weighing of souls and the ba..toul, all scc.m lQ point tO aspects of the complex Egyptian iconography of the other world becoming known to the Greeks and adapted in part by t hem, probably at inte.,-aJs between the fifteenth and the fifth centuries n.c. i:\.fuch is not yet clear, Jike the etymology of C haron or of the mysterious Elysio•1 which looks so much like the Ialu Fields and may be connected with cemetery names like Ialysos, the Champs- Eiys~es of Myce naean Rhodes. The need for the dead to carry writ ten spells with them is pe rhaps the latest element to become popula•·, with emphasis on guards, water nnd trees in a la1tdscape, i1\ so-called Orphic doctrine. The unccrmin relation be tween these images and the oJd G reek Hades underscores

the likelihood that t hey were grafted sporadically on to a n essentially recalcitrant tradition, and the ultimate Greek picture which increasingly t lftsscs the ha p piness of the dead could not be totally coherent. O ne last Egyptian theme com·ertcd to G reek funerary imagery is the playing of board games by the dead. In literature thU is best known from Pindar's

F'IO, 32 .Board.garne with the Invisible Opponent, and ba:--soul : Tomb of Nofretari, T hebes, N inetetnth Oynl\aty.

TJa

D£ATH tN TH£ BRoNz£ Ac£

famous fragment, where the game is pe.ssoiJ probably a generic word with a specific application to a game of battle and blockade. Most early Mediterranean board games have themes of war, hunting, and racing. The problematic early Aege.a n boards, from the palace at Knossos and from the Shaft Graves, seem based on a proble.m of hunting and pursuit, where you wait, pass, and advance on lucky throws. The ivory gaming box from Enkomi in Cyprus, of about 1200 B.c., is for a different game, based on an Egyptian model. Its being found in a

tomb may have no special significance, for ancient games rarely su.rvive except through burial, but the to p of the box is for a game played frequently by the Egyptian dead, and the sides of the box usc the hunting motifs f.'\miliar on

Bronze Age coffins.1 3 A favorite Egyptian game, from predynastic times onward, was snJ, the game of passing, played with thirty squares, using throwing sticks colored white on one side, red ot dark Orl the other.•• It was a secular pastime, but was also desired in the unden'lorld. The squares are often intricately marked with signs for "wate.r ," "danger," "trap." Across these, five to seven playing pieces for each of the two players move by a combination of chance and skill. lly the

FIG. 33 Gaming table from a tomb, with modeJled mourning women and painted lions : Attic black·figure, early sixth century.

CopynghtE'C miltenal

DEATH IN THE BRoNzE AcE

79

mid-Eighteenth Dynasty the game had acquired lightly symbolic overtones, and in tomb-painting the usual pair of players may be replaced by a single player facing an invisible opponent, evidently death, or an evil spirit of the underworld (6g. 32}. 'fhe squares may be inscribed with texts appropriate to the p assa.gc to death; Hyou tread the staircase of the souls of Heliopolis," or, fOr the water-square, Hyou shall ferry across the lake v.rithout wading." Good moves jod icate s.afe passage through the underworld with the sun, and union with Osiris, and in funel'ary game texts the match between the fortunes of the game and of the soul are evident: " .M ay you be justified [mMklitru] , 0 you who are itt the Thirty [spaces on the board]. IV!ay you go down upon your lake of truth . May you embark in the divine sh ip, wlt ich goes straight toward the necropolis of the Two Truths.H Or, with some malice, ul pas$ with the breeze

Ftc. 34 Funerary relief, men at the gaming-board: Pollmyra, 1hird cemury A.D.

Copynghted r1atenal

So

DEATH IN THE BRONZE AGE

together with the sun to the House of Repeating Life. My opponent lingers in the House of the Net[?] and he is humiliated in a papyrus d~ickeLn In Greece, during the seventh and sixth centuries when the Nile was once more opened to trade, gaming boards and dice appear again h1 private tombs, especially in Attica.7 & The boards arc clay models on a small scale, roughly marked off in squares, made specifically for burial, and they are occasionally ornamented with small sad figures of mourning women at the corners (fig. 33) . These arc the same mcurncrs who stand on basin rims, or at the neck of mourning hydriai, very like those of Mycenaean bowls; their presence invests the game board with some particular mearling for the chances and skills of life and death. Sometimes a die is found too~ or a die by itself, painted with figures out of the Geometric funeral repertory, a woman with raised arms, or a horse, a horseman, a bird, even a Siren with a lyre. The custom is rare in Greece, compared to Egypt, but suggests that for certain Greeks gaming was, as for the Egyptians, a metaphor of chance, of winning and losing in an unreal world, the ultimate game with the last opponent. 'fhc gaming board continued in

Fto. 35 Ajax and Achilles at a gaming-board in the Trojan \1\rar: Auk black~figured amphora, late sixth century.

Copynghted matenal

Bt

DEATH IN THE BRONZE AGE

this sphere of imagery until the cod of the Roman Empire (fig. 34), as in ritzgcrald's conceit in the Rubaf>·at, Tis all a Chequer Board of Nights and Days \rVhcrc Destiny with ~·len for Pieces Plays: Hither and thither moves, and checks, and slays, And one by one back in the Closet lays. [l.xlix] One may wonder whether the famous game between Aias and Achilles at Troy is not more than a simple pastime (fig. 35}. One was going to rescue the other, in death, on the battlefield, and lose the arisleia, the prize of valor. The pictures begin in the third quarter of the sixth century, with Exekias' amphora, on pieces of size and value, and the scene is linked by Exekias at least to the life-and-death exchanges of the Dioskouroi. It may be a deeper game being played, an equivalent of PSJ'Citostosia, an older illustration of the theme in Sophoklcs' Aias,

FIG. 36 Winged daimons with magic staff's at a gaming-board: Attic black-figured cup, sixth century.

Copynghted r1atenal

DEATH IN THE BRONZE AGE

"\Vhat pleasure does each day bring after each day, moving the pieces forward and pulling them back from death?" (475) .,. The Bronze Age hero, as he survived into classical timc,s, may have brought his mct.-tphors v.rith him, meta.. phors taken from Egypt and bearing on the central issue of mortal and immortal. So on one strange memorable cup, a pair of divine winged messengers with magic wands replace A;.., and Achilles at the board (fig. 36) , and perhaps reassure the hero, or the bereaved shoppe r, fac ing death, that there may jn the end exist a higher happiness, as the daimons blend in their forms the aspects of Thanatos, death, and Eros, love.

Copyrighted material

III THE HAPPY HERO He knew chat the cmncc of war is violence, and that moderation i1l war is imbct:ility. T. l\•IACAULf.Y, lArd Nugmt'.f .Mtm()rials of Hampdm.

Oovsseus likes wa r as well as any man. "You ruinous man," he says a ngrily to Agamemnon, "I wish you gave signals to some other indecent army. and were not lord over us- us, to whom Zeus has given as a gift fl·om our boyhood un til our old ageJ to wind the thread in savage war so that each of us may be destroyed " (XIV .83f.). 1 Happy O dysseus. H is firS! pleasure, afte r the sack of T roy and the kill ing of the small prince Astyanax,2 is to start figh ting aga in.

Homeric war·l'iOI'!I setting o u t fol' battle: Attic black-figured d ino.s, car·ly sixth century.

F1c . 1

Copynghted r1atenal

THE HAPPY HERO

"From Ilion the wind carried me close to the Kikones, at Ismaros," he begins the Sea Tale.s, "then I destroyed the city and killed them:• ;,Oa 8'lyW 'l"''Q~w E-rrpa0ov1 W~Eaa 8'dln'otk- (ix.gg). He shows skilled leadership in dividing up the women on the beach so that no sailor will miss his share, the happy blend of loot and rape which is the sign of victory. Some of the men enjoy d\e battle so much, p.(ya, ~~~moa, they stay on too long at the beach barbecue and get killed, and off Odysseus saHs ca. LUng aloud three t imes to the souls of his dead friends.3

When he finally reaches the land of che dead he is surprised to see Agamemnon
one springillg to back or throat., the other galvanized, startled, or slumping in prelude to death (figs. 2 , 3) .4 Two lions o r leopards may act as partners, like the t\'10 Aiantcs at Troy, Aja.x and Tcukros. These themes were f.· worites in Greece from early l'.,{ycenaean art through the fourth century, a caste shared with other ancient cultures, but developed by Greeks wi(h special poetic skilL

-FIG. 2 Predator and grass-eater : Cae«:tan h.ydri01, sixch century.

Fro. 3 V\rarriors d uelling: Corinthian skyphO$ (koty1e), early sixth century.

CopynghtE'C miltenal

THE HAPPY HERO

As Greek poetry gains power in its chosen restrictions of formula and pattern,

variations on a resonant type, the motif of the meat-eating killer lc-.ap ing at a. victim o ff guard and unable to defend himseU: which might have become dull through repetition, maintains a surprising emblematic power in Greek hands. Although the outcome is predictable, the grass..catcr seldom escapes, the narrative is immune to surprises, and it is a conflict o f species rather than individuals, the theme is capable of wonderfUl variation. In the animal similes ofHom e.r, the lion may be old, or tired, or wet, or starving, the wolf may be thirsty, the bird angered at the loss of its young, or the deer shocked as it returns to an empty foaling ground; jn art the wrinkled bull's neck, the gasping lips and starting eyes of the deer, the surly rage of the wounded boar, the pathos of the lion trying to p luck an arrow from his flank o ffer subtleties of coloring which distinguish but do not change the structure of the natural fight.. On the battlefield of Troy the duel between enemy heroes is handled in precisely the same formal patterns as the animal fight. There is a restricted series of formulas and scenes, wh ich can be used for almost any Greek and Trojan, marked by the same variable but predestined shape as in the forest. The e pic style allows for brilliant individual vignettes without permitting the structure to be broken accidentally, except when the poet wants to save the victim for another day. The battle books of the Iliad arc almost entirely composed in the inherited animal style. It is often a playful tradition. The choreographer ofthe battle ballet must create a mood ofaudience beUefwithout crossing the border between h igh style and parody. Many battlefield deaths in the Iliad ha ve a decorative humor, light or dark. T o call them decorative or formal does oot imply that they are meaningless; those scenes arc often packed with meaning handled at different. levels tOr changing purposes, because e very long series of killings needs leavening and every death is ultimately important. Most of them are handled as contests b enveen grazing helpless eplremeroi and the hunting predator or sacrificcr: as on the coffins of the Bronze Age. How the hunt and the ba ttle are ljnked ill male psychology, or were in the early Greek period, is not for a female to guess. They seem so inexlricable, one supposes a man could become confused about which he was engaged in, or fuse his human and animal opponents in his mind. The line might be dray,rn be tween the malicious inte lligence of the human creature and the simple selfprotectiveness of the animal T hat line is blurred on purpose in many wartime messages. The hunting p arty and the war party merge, and kill the enemy more easily if he is called an animal- monkey, pig, dog, snake, rat, verminor a bev.-ildered deer when a lion is on the prowL The lion was for the Greeks as for a lmost all their Mcdjterrancan neighbors the image of success in both war and hunting, the most skilled hunter himself, the most frightening object of the hunt, the representative of male ambitions

Copyrighted material

86

Tut HAPPY HERO

FlO. 4 The lion hunt: gold ring. Shaft Graves, 1\•lycenac, sixteenth ceo tory.

to be courageous, dangerous, imelligent and successful. One is t10t surpdscd to see, in the middle of a good Gt.'Omctric battle scene, an "intensive" lion eating a man, or a lion's: head topping a seventh-ceruury battle vase where me n fight among thcrnsclvcs (figs. 5 and 6}, bcc..'lusc the labile shift bcnvecn tbc lion and t he winning wa rrior is so old and fa miliar in the traditional language o f

Ftc. 5

Lions on the battle-field : Geometric ka.ntharos, eighth century.

Copyngilted rJai nal

THE HAPPY HERO

Fie. 6 Modelled lion, painted ba ttJe-sccnes: Pro to-Corinth.ia.n aa;·ballos, seventh century.

war art a nd wa r boast. Ifa warrior ca n ldll a lion, he has reached the to p of his skill as a hunter and absorbs the qual it ies of his enemy (Or good and bad. The lio n may be the adversary, as Gilgamesh woke from a dr eam filled with death a nd killed the ci rcling lions who l\1Crc "glorying in lifc"~r the lion may be the self and king, a favorite idea in Egypt evel' since the great e poch of Egyptian prcdynastic palettes, and soon a cliche, like Amenhotep Il's boa.u, " His majesty rtached Sha rnash-Edom. H e hac ked it up in a short moment, like a lioo fierce of face." Herakles in the lion-skin, or Alexa nder t he Great in Hc raklcs' lio n-skin, the lion-hunter and the man-hunter. ha ve been so blended in image, it wo u ld be surprising if they could be clearly se parated in thought.6 In Greek myth the preeminent lion-soldier was always Hcraklcs, whose hero ic initi;Hio n beg:ln w ith the killing of the Ncmea.n lion ar\d who masqueraded ever after in its skin, which w as the badge of his skill, a warning, a confil'mation o f inner qual ity (fig. 7). Since H craklcs beca me ~1 god, a nd was said to be the only morta l thus elevated asexually, the image may have been meant to persuOtde the viewe r tlutt the carn ivore is righ t and magn ifice nt, the victim weak and wrong in h is weakness, with an inborn failure of in telligence and courage. The power to shed blood a nd cat meat was not all, since the lion, and his counte rpart soldier, has q ualities suitable for companionship and the

Copyrighted material

88

THE HAPPY HERO

F1o. 7 HcrakJcs as a lion-man: Rhodian modelled vase, sixth century.

protection of the weaker. 11lat motif is commonplace in gra.vc·epigrams from the sixth century to HelJenistic verse,

c.ltrl, >.iov, ¢B'IL£vo'o ·ri~ -r&tpov &.p+tfJlfJ"'~r; Bo~ye, .,.;s 'nls atls «fror ~&.!><Tis; "Tell me, lion, what dead man's tomb are you guarding between your legs?

Bull·eater, who was worthy of your p:lwer?" 1 14,..UJ1'1~eos: tbc lion is the dead man's battle-friend who has straddled the corpse: to keep it from being mutilated, stripped, fed to dog. and birds; he has saved it for the critieal ceremony of burial and from accidents after death, and continues to live on the tomb •• a guardian, checking the offering> (fig. 8). A• with aU death figures, it

is ambivalent, nnd the dead person is also like the cnrcn" of the liort's freshest kill, guarded from jackals or hyenas for future meals.•

In Homer, lions arc often interchangeable wilh boars- .. as when a boar or lion turns exulting in its power against the dogs and hunters .. . "(XII.41 )ns the two most dangerous animals of the hunt. A boar can disembowel a horse

Fto. 8 Lion as tomb-marker: limestone monument, Perachora, sixth century.

F10. 9 Dead dog Ormenos (Rusher) at the Kalydonia.n boar hunt : black~figured volute krater> early sixth century.

Copynghted r1atenal

go

THE HAJ>J>Y HERO

on the run, and in Greek art its path is littered with dead men and dogs (fig. g).~ The artjstic, calligraphically-looped en trail$ of the poor hound Ormcnos on the Franc;ois Vase remind us that the favorite deadly confrontations of the Greeks are usually transmuted irlto a language more stylish than real. lt is in this style

that the boar takes his place on funeral monuments, eloquent of power and danger, a nd yet, as in hunting scenes, often the gallant loser. There is some pc rsjstcnt weakness in a c recuurc that d(){;s not eat meat; the boar was most useful to Homer as an image of bravery in retreat; the lion was the hero in attack bt.-cause of the old a na lo!,ry, or fact., of the predator-warrior style which demands that he claw and eat. his enemy with a literal blood thirst. When the

lion and boar are shown together in the sphere of death, as on a Klazomenian sarcophagus {fig. t o) the Lion should win. to become [he gtave watcher and guardian of the body; the boar, representing danger over which the dead man

Fto. 10 Confronted watrior heads wllh lion and bo.'\r: East Creek, Klazomenian sarcophagu$, sixth century.

Copynghted matenal

THE HAPPY HERO

triumphed .in some way as a \1/arrior, must incarnate the victim. The lion and his counterpart soldier below taunt the other side, 1Arith roars and mocking words; the boar and hls counterpart soldier seem curiously immobilized and silenced. The style is coded . Patroklos was t1le lion while he was winning, and became the boar as he died (XVI.487, 75 t, 823); the lion role was inevitably assumed by Hektor. It was the normal, favored expression for the magnificence of a fight: ''as a lion does violence to a tireless boar in the joy of battle, when they both have grand ideas and fight on the h ill-tops around a little spring of water where they both wish to drink . .. " (XVT.8•3). Neandros painted a bestiary band-cup with the same vignette (fig. t t ) and writes out the results: "a lion got this boar, yes he did, well fought." The

Fie.

A bestiary, with a duel between lion and boar: Attic blaek-6gured band-cup, sixth century.

JJ

tradicional poetic and visual languages coincide, even at very different periods, both because dte formula needs no change, and because a dininct advantage of formulaic language and design is the distance it sets be tween the audience and messy re.ality.Just as Home-r 's lions do not roar and his battlefield does not stink, as his earth is stained with blood when he wants it so but is dean and freshly fel'tile at other times, and in ten years all those men and attimals only leave one small pile of ordure (XXIII. 775), so his hunts and duels are generally protected from accident and dirt, and his bloodshed is constrained in a ballet as much sparked with humor and grace as Neandros' cup. The language, whcthel' it focuses on animals or other shapes, is not symbolic in any real sense. In Exekias' battle over the body of Patroklos (fig. 12), the corpse and the comestants are mirrored by the lions and the bull directly below, but they are not analogues-the soldiers are not partners, like the lions, and, with luc.k, the corpse will not be eacen. It is tlle simple conversion of the dead to the helpless animal. (The same animal scene appears on the other, happier side~ Heraklcs' apotheosis.) How light-heatted and patterned such conversions may be is clear on two vases where horses duel over a f.1.Uen mare, in parody of the usual combat scene1 or a dead soldier takes the mal:'e>S place

Copynghted r1atenal

Ftc.

Battle over dead PatroklosJ lions tearing a bull: Attic black-figured calyx-lmner~ sixth century.

12

Ftc. 13 Stallions duel over a mare: Attic black-figured amphora~ sixth century.

Copyngilted rJai nal

THE HAPPY HERO

93

Ftc. '4 Stallions d\lel over a f..1.1len soldier: Attic black-fig-ured arnphord., sixth century.

(figs. 13 and 14). A symbolist might go mod trying to find a translation; but a Greek who had grown up in the ornamental vernacular wot~ld not bother. T he intense Greek use of animal language and beast mechanisms to express feelings about tl1e victories and defea ts of mortals is common in milit~uy or hunting societies. The warrior's model in the behavior of animals is apparently grounded so deeply in male emotion as to be nearly universal and free from change lhrough time; the soldiel' on the l"ampage will claw and eat. The Greeks entering Troy behaved no diffc rcntl)• than the Assyrians in

Egypt, And [the officers] put to the sword the inhabitants, young and old, of the towns of Sa is, Pindidi, Tanis, and of a lJ {he o ther towns which had associated with them to plot, they did not spal'e anybody among (them). They hung their corpses from stakes, flayed their skins a nd covered the wall of the town. (Annals of Ashurbanipal, ANET2 295]

Copynghted r1atenal

94

T~!E H.APPY HERO

or the Cambodians in mutiny: Soldiers defiantly displayed the muti.l ated fly-covered corpse of one of their officers whom they had killed in ... dispute. They had eaten his lungs, liver, heart, biceps and calves . .. Villagers who had gathered around g iggled as one soldier p layfully stuck a cigarette in the corpse's mouth . . . . Cannibalism has been frequent practice in the Cambodian war, though the victims were almost invariably captured pnsoncrs or enemy corpses. [Los Angel<S Times, 6 April 1975) The scene recaJls the Achaians standing around dead Hektor, poking him and laughing (X.XII.369f.). Tbe Homeric soldier is usually protected by formula and convention from lapsing into the a nimal form of his daydreams; perhaps he C'.Ontemplated messy action, KaK4 Jlf
Copyrighted material

THE HAPPY Hr::Ro

95

exempt fro m the animal food·chain and from the cycles of naturc. 10 It is part of Ho mer's contribution to have set mortality in the proper gal.lan t light. Yet classicists sometimes wipe history and lauroan beha vior clea1l as fast as they read about it, a nd find the battle books of the Iliad- which are Homer's context for the gallantry of mortality-only "traditionaP' background against which the "new spiritual Greek" (represented by AchiHcs) can be watched emerging, as a sign-post to,..,ard a more introspective and democratic future. uHcllenism n bas sometimes been equated with reas.ou and restraint, especia lly since the Renaissance, a nd the "Helleo.ic ethos" is occasionally contraste.d to the old, dark, fierce Bronze Age tradit ion which, through Homer's poetic insig ht, is being transmuted to a h igher plane of self-knowledge and reflection. Achilles' claim to higher self-knowledge is mostly based on his famous lines in Iliad IX, in which, through a spiral of magnificent and mannered rhetoric, he comes to the conclusion that he would prefer to live than to d ie jn glory. Probably most soldiers fro m the Sto ne Age on have debated that point; in Homer, the language is more interesting than the idea. AchilJcs also came to understand the significance of companionship in a community war, and the prope r courteous trea tment of the dead, a critical Greek value long after the Iliad. But the normal expression of his heroic quality is found in such passages as,

So under great-hearted Achilles' hands the solid-hooved horses stamped on the dead bodies a nd shields; the axle unde!'neath was all sprinkled with blood~ and the rails round the chariot box~ which the bloody spray from the horses' hooves and from the wheels kept hitting; the son of Pclcus hurled h imself to win glory, h is untouchable hands spotted with bloody muck. This is also a t1worite scene in Greek a rt, where chc pain(t~rs often catch the spirit of the ad\•enturc, a scene exploited long before in (he war documentaries of Egypt and the East. At times Homer's succes~ in making the encounter of the hero and his adver$3ry unforgettable tul.'nS modcn1 l.'cadtrs uncomfortable. A German may find some scenes redolent o f "niederer R ealismus." An Englishman may convince h imself nervous()' that Homer is really cleaning up even more barb arous and savage practices out of the past. An American may be shocked: "The degree of bru tality is extraordinary. If one may j udge by classical literature, it would be felt as especially shoeking." 11 One a.o;sumes that clas~icists who arc shocked by Homer arc not shocked by He rodotos or Sophokles, because the fifth century has more " moral" themes than the e ighth; but philolog-ists whose wuls have been uplifted by the moral beauty and civilized beha\•ior in C reek tragedy are, possibly, too q uick to blame the Mycenaean tradition for relics of "savagery'' in Homer.

Copyrighted material

g6

THE

HAPrv HERO

Perhaps there is a naive instinct in aH of us to regard Greek history as a progress from archaic savagery toward the cultural enlightenment and demo-cratic institutions of the fifth century. The Attic poets thought so. For them, the o ld half-mythical world of their ancestors was filled with barbaric behavior now curbed by the application of law and philosophy. One consequence has been to view what is historically elder, the Bronze Age world, as a source for unpleasant violence which persisted {against Homer's will, built in to his oral epic language) in the poems of the Trojan cycle, and in myth. The Myccnaeans arc unfairly blamed for being o ld, da.r k, bloody and chtbonic, bound to peculiar vegetation cults and ancient Aegean mother goddesses, an irrational and illiterate people too primitive for the ordered splendors of O lympian religion and the civilized restraints of classical thought. Yct so tar as a n archacol~ ogist can tell, the average Mycenaean was as rational as the next Greek, spoke the language well, observed the customs, paid the taxes, and obeyed d1e king, gave splendid presents to the Olympian gods and to others of more local affection, fought well in single combat and in group battle, and no more bloodily than his classical descendants; the :M ycenaean mind was no more darkened by ancient goddesses and bloody rites than the classical Athenian's was by Athena or the Bouphon.i a.12 Vlhen, in classical times, Lycidas the Athenian was stoned to death by his enlightened democratic fellows while t.hc women pounded his wife and children to a pulp (Herodotos IX.5); when the Atheruan seer and the roaring crowd, after the battle of Salamis, offered three ch.ildren of tbe Persian king•s s iste r as

living sacrifices to Dionysos Eater o f Raw Flesh (Plutarch, Aristti!hs IX. HI, Tlwnistodu XII1 .2); when civilized o;usceptibility to d.ivine weather caused Athenians to kj)l each o ther at a clap of thunder (Herodotos V.85); when the restrained Xaoth.ippos, father of Perikles, bad the Persian governor Artyaktes pegged a live to a plank (1-lcrodotos VJI.gg), these episodes are not counted as primitive or savage in our estimation of the cradle of democracy. But when some poor Trojan gets wounded in the bladder, not by the Greeks but by their favorite poet, it is held to be a relic of primitive Mycenaean savagery which noble Homer would eradicate if he could. The truth is. Homer does not want to, for he and his audience enjoy the scene enormously. The Iliad is, among other things, a poem "•rbich confronts the perpetual threat. of death with the energy and humor of life, aod draws bitter, witty conclusions, a very Greek taste. There is an almost baroque magni.ficence in the physical ruin of Homer•.s he.rocs. Fears of ""·hat may be done to one's body, alive or dead, reverberate through the Iliad and Odyssey. Greek epic vocabulary for parts of the anatomy is probably richer than in any other language. Nearly every part is vulnerable. The distinctions regar
Copyrighted material

THE HAPPY HERO

97

root, eyes, eye-sockets, pupils, eyelashes, brows a nd lids. 1l For Homer the huma n body is a marvellous network of connecting parts he ca n pierce or sever or usc tOr pictorial and e motional effects, from the practical connection between the hip-soc ket and the buttock, to the differentiated ac tions of the heart-the coward 1s knocking violently at the chest wall, the woman's r ising to shake io her mouth, or the dead man's panting and beating to shake the b utt end of the spear stuck i n it." I do not know how many people a re ki.lled in the //iod-Bassctt counted 243 killed by name 1&- and Horuc1· the murderer never bores us. T he battleweapons are too simple to sustain, by chcmselvcs, the poetic interest of killing and dying on such a massive scale (for there a rc limits to the variety which even the most ingenious poet ca n impart to the Ajght o f a spear, the thrust of a sword, the smash of club or boulder, a crushed shield or pierced mitra). It is, coose~ quently, the little individuals who must provide the interest, a nd express themselves and win poetic immorta li ty through the breakage of their bodies. T hese are th e minor soldietS brought on to be cut down like Demoleon, men briefly colored with small histories, whose fathers sle pt ,.,..ith naiad nymphs, whose mothers met Hermes a t a d ance, whose parents failed to interpret their dreams for them ; pretty ones, fast ones, scared ones, boys shocked at the ,,..ounding of their brothers, in lines Heeing and pursuing, men peering, chasing:, shrinking bac.k among their companions, running foolishly through the fightjng, snatching helmets, lusting for horses, boasting, moc king, taunting; men with a physical appetite for fighting, '"oi\EJJ.Ov
Copyrighted material

g8

THE HAPPY HERO

hard in the neck that his head, mouth, and nose thump to the ground in from

of his standing legs and knees (XIV.465). There is Phereklos the carpenter who built Paris' ships, pic.rccd through buttock and bladder and dropped screaming to his knees (V .66) . .M.crioncs the Cretan specializes in this blow, which

stretches a man like a worm on the ground (XIII.6s2) ." Mydon falls oiT his chariot and sticks head first in the sand until his horses knoc k him over, which

must have raised a laugh (V.sSs). The bronze feels cold in Pedaios' mouth when the spear blade crashes through his teeth and cuts under his tongue

(V. 73). Teeth and tongues carpet the poetic ground (V.291, XVll.6t7), or rattle in the head while the eyes fill with blood (XVI. 345) , eyes also pop out on spearpoints like poppy Rowers, or plop in the dust at one's feet (XIV.4gg, Xlll.6t6, XVI.741 ). It has always been a popular moment when Patroklos taunts the eyeless K ebriones diving over the chariot rail with being an oyster

fisher (XVI. 746): partly the pictorial aptness of the image, partly the detailed prtcis of the cause, "the stone caught both bro·ws, the bone did not hold there, the eyes dropped on the ground before his feet"; partly the scene of the happy

Frc. 15

Merry scenes of war:

Acc:ic Geometric jug, eighth century.

Copyrighted material

Tm:

HAPPY HERo

99

hero who descends to the ground to play tug of war against Hektor, with the blind corpse as the rope. Agamemn on pre fers to cut o ffarms and legs, and roll the lim bless trunk through

the crowd (Xl.146), or sever a head (XL261 ), just as Aias and his brother roll lmbrios' head like a ball to Hcktor' s lect (XIII.oo3), three famous scenes. T his black and oroamcntaJ wit offers pictures of the brain running out through the eyehole along the spea,.haft (XVIbg6}, the bone marrow spurting from the cut spinal column (XX.482), Oinomaos clawing the dust with his entrails hanging out (XIII.so7}, or Polydoros, Priam's son, catching his own bowels in his hands, 1rpoTI. ot 8'iAer,{3' {vnpa, X£put. )uaa(Jds (XX.417). It is the epic equivalent of the barroom brawl or ambush in a western film, or mass attacks by the Zulu on the thin red line, with enough incidental ingenious detail in good vocabulary to render the length of the engagement supportable. One damage Homer alway:; avoids is to the genitab. 18 If Homeric battle scenes had bee n untransformed records of battlefield behavior, one would expect mo re vignettes of this particular form of humiliation of the enemy's body. Of course the scenes arc not documentary, or they would have smelled worse; they are artificially wrought out of an old traditio n, picturesque and unsentimental ballet scenes. They offer, in a richer variety of action and more subtle orchestration than any comparable poetry in the world, devices for placing in front of us in unforgettable style the fragility of t he human casement and the animal nature of human ambition and weakness; while the facts ofthc killings are held in restraint by the poetry, like the odorless plain of battle. The hero who moves v.ith mixed confidence and weakness through such scenes had a long training-from boyhood, Odysseus says, 19 and part of the hero's training was in tt"..<:hniques to shake the euemy"s self-confidence. In the Iliad, psychological warfare is as formulaic as physical warfare and damage. It must have been a grc.at physical strain to puncture an armored man with a spear in a duel (fig. 16), even after years of pract.icc with sandbags or straw dumm.ies. An infusion of anger was needed at che critical moment, and formal taunting mockery of the opponent to lower his self-esteem at the instant he might hurt you. It is intcre.s ting to note which themes could shake a man; the art of battJe mockery had as fixed a repertory as the funeral Jament. The man,s physical weakJleSS should be exposed to public laughter; he should be humiliated in front of his figh ting eomradc.s, his ancestry must be doubted (although not to the same degree ofpungenC)' as is common with us); and, most of all, the future of his body and the quality of his mind should be pktorialized in a manner certain to d istress him. At least it might make his hand shake. Tell a man he is witless, has no warcrafl, has not learned 'lT(I.:\fJL*"o iP";o., and is up against one who has. So Tlepolemos to Sarpedon, "\Vhy must you crouch and cower out of the fighting like a man who has learned nothing/' aBati.uo~o~t

Copyrighted material

Fw. t6 Prelude: to the duel: Attic black.·figured atnphora, sixth century.

Copyrighted matenal

Tnl'. HAPPY HERO

101

~Tt

(V.634), chiding hctween friends. So Hektor to Aias, "Don1 t tease me as though I were a weak little boy or a , ..,.oman who docs not know warc.r aft/';} othc olS \Vhcn taunting, the aim is to t.urn the opposing soldier into a female, or into the weaker animal role. Female qualities may be detected i.n the prettiness of his face-"0, Jtandso me: Hektor, but not much in fighting" (XVI1.142) or, to Pa1·is, "virgin-face, shin}' with hait· wax~· (XI.g85) - or in the horizontal position of his stri pped and lilylike Ot.cpt&e,s) body. A duel at close qua rters may be treated fOrmally as a love-struggle, two bodies straining against each othe r in a match of death. Aischylos also saw it so, in the pre lude wedding rites when the spear is broken, ~CC1K'I'O.IOJ.'i"''s r ' Ev npOrE'A( {ocs K4J.'aKos {.Agatnlmnon G6) .21 (Aisc hylos shares the general fifth-century d elight in the inte r-penetration of war and love: like the two sidc.s of a d rinking cup.) There is an ambiguity to killing, as tO loving, and a verb like f'
,;s·

lK p(v p.' cL\Mwv M.t&wv clv8p( 8&p.
Copyrighted material

I02

11·1£ HAPPY HeRo

FIG. I 7 Herakles fighting the Amazons: Tyrrhenian black-figured amphora.. sixth century. shudder in wartime may partly explain the new inte rest in Amazon pictu.res.

In painting, the white boyish limbs of d1e girls and the black lunges of d1e Greek soldiers could be deliberately exploited lor the ambiguity of slaughter and sex.~3 Greek and Amazon may be set in a composition more familiar for the

relations ben...een sile n and mainad {figs. t8 and 19) 1 and the pictures are ofien

F10. I8 Herakles locked in battle with an Amazon : Attic black-figured cup. sixth cenn1ry.

FIG. 19 Silen locked in play with a mainad :

Attic black-figured <:up1 sixth century.

Copynghted matenal

THE HAPPY HERO

103

winy. The same mordant wit is evident in the "enchanting love-talk ofwar,u -rto)..(pov

Oap,UT6s:

"(the weapon] would meet your breast or belly as you went forward to the love-talk of the front fighters" (XII1.291) . Hektor fe,1rs he will be stripped naked like a woman and killed by some piercing weapon, which is what happens (XXI1. 126), and when he is dead the Achaians find him "softer to handle," pq.}.a<ap®o8a<, as a girl would be (XXII.373). "Come to the ships for your marriage," they taum Othryoncus who is to marry Kassandra, "we

are not bad marriage brokers" (Xlli.36I ). In death the enemy's body will be treated like a lover's body-not much usc, perhaps, to a wife, as Homer remarks oflphidamas who lies locked in a bronze sleep (XI.241 ), but a delight at )east to the birds and dogs who will " love" the corpse in a special sense, making it a he/or, a kurma, a nulptthron.2 4 Hcktor makes a formal threat to Aias (XIII.830) : "You will stuff the Trojan dogs with your fat and meat, when my spear shall bite your lily like body," xpoo )..<,pu:S descended from the old call to vultures and foxes to help prepare the body for burial like women> the living tombs as Gorgias later put it> yihrEs ... iJ.f4JII](o' -r&.t/>o' (Epil4phws 5a D.).

Frcs. 20, 21 Birds on the battlefield: fragments of relief pithoi, Tenos and Eretria, sevemh century.

Copyrighted material

104

THE HAPPY HERO

Birds have an older and stro nger position in the arts (figs. 20 and 21) than dogs do; when the epic is being for med, eighth- and seventh-century Cycladic artists use them freely in battle scenes. They auack the organs of love, the eyes and genitals, in a way scholars have described as "exceptionally brutal" and marked with " Krudclitat," rejoicing that the idea left no trace in classical art. 25 There is no real reason to regard the theme as barbarous; it cannot match, in its Creek cxcc\ltion, t he brilliance of the reliefs of the same subject in the Assyrian palace ofScnnachcrib (fig. 22), but it is not ac aU on-Hellenic. Rather

FIG. 22 Birds picking at the enemy : Assyrian relief, palace ofScnnachcrib, Nineveh, seventh century.

it is an integral part of the rhetoric of war-mockery, an element in the general jovial tone and picturesque effect of Greek ep ic. A hero had to learn to take such rough joking in good part to be accepted . Even Aias son of Oileus, who slipped in the manure of the sacrific ial cows at the funeral games, had the se nse simply to spit the stuff ou t of his mouth and shrug while the other Greeks "laughed happily at him,",&.,..,'"' ~vni> >)6v y(~~""~" (X XIII.775-84)· It enters the gamesmanship of be ing a hero. HIt is not your mother and fatller who will dean your eyes when you are dead," boascs Odysseus over the Trojan Sokos, u but the birds who eat flesh raw will pluck them out as they strike you

Copyrighted material

THE HAPPY HERO

all over with their wings" (XL454). However true the prediction, Homer does not le t it happen. Death in wartime bc.comes a fc.asc, a pict.urc of communal festivity. So Patroklos will be melpelhron. for T rojan dogs, so 01cthing they can sing a nd da nce over as they eat (l\'V I.255) . So Pa troklos and Hektor a re bo th invited by t he gods, in a twist of phrase, not to d inner or assembly but to death, O
Diomedes boasts, "' if I h it a man .•. he stai ns the earth with red blood and rots, and t he re a rc more birds about him than \1/0men/' ok1.1liO~ 8~ 7rf pi r.MES ~€ yu•t(l.l'N~s (XI.sgs), a ceremonial boast wh ich mingles the sex life of the waffior wit h the role of the women of his household, 27 in tending, cleaning, and loving his bod y in the ceremonies of d eath. The 1-Iomcric ta unt has several pictodal counterpa rts in seventh-cent ury pa int.ing, the epoch when old poetry and new style coalesce most successfully (fig. 23). The dog may be more swaybacked a nd long·toed than fleet o f foo t, but is evidently th irsty, a nd the ~~gc r bi rd rushes overhead. A \\"o\iting sphi nx, • d og-bird or lion-bird a kind, had been involved in such deaths since late Mycenaean times, a nd we will sc:c again Lhc mixed complexion of her love.2 8 The dogs and birds who ravage the corpse in place of wo men composing and

or

Copyrighted material

106

THE HAPPY HERO

•

-- -

f'lo. 23 Oog and bird on a funeral vase: Proto-Attic k:ratcr fragment, seventh century.

-

cleaning it for the grave, Greek images distiHed from a far older tradition, offer materia l for private nightmares. Priam's famous vision is the worst, for the dogs arc his own: 1 wish the gods loved Achilles the way I do. Then the dogs and birds would eat him as he lay stretched out ..•. But god will ruin me when I have seen enough terrible things, my -sons dead, Ol)' daughters dro.lggcd away, the bedrooms ripped up, the foolish children smashed on the ground, my wives pulled along by Greek hands ... . At last the dogs who eat flesh raw will drag me to the outer doors of the hall ... the dogs 1 bred in the hall at my own table to guard the doots will drink my b1ood in their madness and loll at the courtyard gates.

[XXII.42, 66] Priam particula l'ly imagines his dogs humiliating his gray head a nd genitals, that is) d\e authority of the king and the hopes of the dynasty; places where the

CopynghtE'C miltenal

THE H APPY HERO

n,c

birds anack in Egyptian, Sumerian and Assyrian rditfs. normal, realistic fcan of war arc compou1~dtd by the thought of treachery in the haJJ, with domesticated companions turning suddenly as savage as the soldiers outside the walls, eating their master in a foodless dry when the fraglle bonds of community arC' broken by w:tr.29 There are occasions in the Iliad-not many but enough to be interestingwhen the soldiers feel like joining the dogs in dissccling the enemy; the act might bring ns muc h p leasure as a hunting animal's bringing home meat to the lair. Hc ktor p rays lo r his son to grow up "and bring home the blooded spoils and dcliglu his mother's heart" (VJ.481 ). The head is the most valued trophy, as lhc cani<:r of identity. Euphorbos thitlks it miglu cheer his parents if he could g i\'C thcl'n :M enclaos' head to play with, "iri could CMI')' them back your head and armor and toss them into 1he hands of lovely Phrontis and of Panthoos" (XVII.38). Hektor would like to cut off Patroklos' head from his stripped body (XVII.to6) , and mount it on a stake (XVIII.q:;) , an old prac1icc in 1hc East, s:tiU standard treatment in war1imc in the fifth century, as the Persians did tO Leonidas after Thcrmopylai, and the Aiginctan Lampon suggested doing to Mardoruos after Plataia (H crodo tos VII.o38, IX.78). Achilles meant to t;okc H cktor's head as a special oomfort for Patrolt.los (XVIII. 335). The ornamental charaeter of this threat, which dots not get translated into action, is clear on the Beldam Painter's lckythos where three soldiers in dance file ench hold a scvrred head (fig. 24)."' Obviously the behavior of the predatory hero i• conditioned, through language, by a whole nexus of old hunting imagery. (>robably there were warriors of all periods who bit off pans of their enemies nnd swallowed them,

Flo. 24 Vlarriors dancing wilh !levered henda: Attic black-figured lckythos, fifth century.

TJa

108

Tu£

HAPPY HERO

f'Ia. 25 The head-trophy as a valued souvenir. Drawing by Chas. Addamsj @I •94•. 1969 Tlu J\'WJ Torker Magazine, Inc.

or tacked head-trophies on chariot rails or in front of their campaign lodges. Homer keeps this behavior in the rc.alm of rhetoric, but gives plentiful signals of his recognition that the hero, so ofien compared to a lion, often feels and sometimes acts like one. The pressure of the imagery, the feelings behind it, and the formulaic restriction of language, can under certain circumstances drive both the hcrCH:s and their gods in a specific and not altogether unwelcome direction. VVhere carnivorous animals and birds had been made the agents for the cleansing oft he dead, they prevented pollution, first physically, then spiritually. They assisted the natural cycle of birth and de.ath in an economical style, and

Copyrighted material

T HE HAPPY HERO

were in a sense allies of those who kept order, the gods. The three common ways of avoiding the pollution of the dead are scavenging, burial, and fire, with

the common clement of eating. The first may be illustrated by the image of the goddess Hekate, shown as part dog, eating a dead man in the under.vorld (fig. 26),3 1 a powerful gracious goddess performing a necessary ta.sk. ln earth burial, the earth may be thought to swallow, although in Homer the expression is normally reserved for a warrior who is shamed and wants to hide: "may the

black earth swallow us all if we cannot save the body of Patroklos" (XVll. 146)?2 When burial by fire became increasingly common, after the late thirteenth century, this image was transferred to the new agent, fire: fire eats the dead man as the animals and the earth had done befo<e. Like the ker or the sl4mion of the underworld, fire has a raging jaw, =,,s IJIM<pa yvaOo; (Aischylos, Clwephoroi 3~5, Phrynichos' WK~Z
&.Ucl KVV(aqw (XXIII.I8Q); it makes a man invisible, like Hades or Thanatos, .it&j~ov (II.455). The connection wiUl animal sacrifice at a flaming altar is obvious.33 The gods oversee both sacrifice and burial, which are both acknowledgements of order and responsibility. The way in which Homer deploys his gods is far too complex and important to be touched on in passing, but it is clear that they are an excellent group to reflect in heaven the styles of heroic behavior below. The war is their will, and

8curTip.
Ftc. 26 Hekate with dog limbs eating a dead man in the u.nderworld : Attic black-figured lekyLhos, fifth century.

Copynghted r1atenal

I 10

THE HAPPY HERO

they watch with interest and personal g lee or sorrow those sce nes of heaving sweating bodies, or pursuit and slaughter, or corpses be ing dra!:,"ged by the feet. Zeus presides over the war as over a banquet; he is in charge of supplies, -rap.l'fJ~ go>..fp.oto. It is an enjoyable occasion, except when a son or grandson is killed: "even when they die I care about them. I am going to sit here on a fold of O lympos where I can sec, and delight my he.art,n tJ>piva, Tipo/Jop.at {XX.21) . Gods arc not complete in themselves, for Homer; the poet exhibits them earnestly wanting the regard and fame awarded to them by men, needing visible signs of success in their roles, and sharing the lives and feelings of men with peculiar intensity. So Arcs strips armor off corpses; he is too big to wear it, but it v.rill publicly signal his success in looting, like the other heroes. The grand scene at the opening of 1/wd IV transfers to divine breasts thoS<: feelings nurtured in the heroic predatory Hellenes and Trojans below. Homer lets Zeus play the same role toward the angry Hera as the poet plays toward the angry hero on earth: the god is d iscurbed at the cannibal impulses which the queen of heaven shares with the queen of Troy. Just as Hekabe would like to set her tee th in the middle of Achillcs1 liver and eat it raw (XXIV.212}, Hera seems angry enough to eat whole enemies. Zeus is d isturbed, p.ey' Ox9q.uus-: .. Daimonic lady, what have Priam and Priam's sons done to you? ... If you could walk through the gates and long waUs, and eat Priam raw, and his children, and the other Trojans, you might heal your auger" ( IV.g4f.) . Greeks, in poetry, are concerned by those who do not cook their prey; it seems uncivilized of fish or Jjons or vuhures lo eat Aesh r a\1.:. Even Hades. , ..,.hen he becomes a corpse-swallower for Euripides in the late fifth century, has the meal cooked for him (C.J in art and literature as in fact. \.Yhen myths and legend$ of the past became the preferred vehicle for expressing complex thoughts among the Greeks, the preservation of the dead was usuaUy exhibited through focus on the Iliad or the apparently savage scenes in the e pic cycle, tlte S<:ries of battles over the body of Achilles, (or Antiloehos), or Aias carrying dead Achilles off the field. These engagements, where so many were wouoded or killed to save the dead, put a seal of proper action upon the soldier's life. A lost

Copyrighted material

Fro. 27 The tomb and tidolon of Patroklos at Troy: Auic black~figured hydria, sixth century.

Copynghted r1atenal

TRE HAPPY H&RO

112

body is not necessarily a forgotten hero, but the prosp ect of its being mangled by the enemy and his dogs stirs up soldiers even more than the prospect of dc.ath for themselves. A tomb and a substitute identity could be managed even were the body lost, but it left a career incomplete if the gallant actions of a man Hke Achmcs, who had come slowly to understand the inevitability of death and the demands of divinity upon a hero to be something more tban a lion, could not be ce lebrated through burial. Learning respect for the body ofd>e dead is one o f the principal lessons of the Iliad, a training for heroes to drop the carnjvore mask a nd express courtesy to mortaJ;ry. That is one of the points o f the Leagros Group hydria (fig. 27), where imprope1· treatment of Hektor's dead body gives si mple ple-asure to the PSJ'&ht of dead Patroklos in his tomb, while at the same time Achilles is learning a bout the interchangeable roles of war. As he drags Hcktor past. his parent's feet, AcbiUes in the stance of the warrior departing from home assumes Hcktor's place as son, with u ltimate responsibility to rescore the bodr to the family, and to the women fo r the m ourning whic;h g ives formal seal to a hero's life.

Nepia Telma The female mourners whose song completes the life at burial arc not so fortunate as those they bury. The singers of the Iliad and Ot!Jsuy a re not, on the whole, sentimental, but the spectacle of what happens to women and d tildrcu in wartime moves them to occasional lyric te rror. The fall of Troy will inevitabl}' mean murder, rape, and fire, and not many will be able to tend to the bodies then. T he proper burial o f women a nd children means little to a n epic poet, since the soldier is his concern, and even in the famous simile of OtfyJs~ viii, the dead man is center stage: as a woman cries who has fallen on the body of her dear husband who has dropped in front of his people and town trying to keep the pitiless day from h is town and c hildren, and she sees him dying and panting fOr breath and pours herself around hi m and lifts the shrill mourning song; but the sold iers, behind her, hit he r with spc.a rs on the shoulders and buttocks and pull her away to slavery, to her grief and lonely tears; so Odysseus dripped pitiable tears under his eyebrows

[5••f.] The analogy o f grief is in the poet's mind, not in the hero's, for Odys.<~eus is a trained hero, accustomed to the disasters of the weak, a nd even in his lies about raids in Egypt he automatically slips in the accomplisher's phrase, "I ruined their lovely fields and took away the women and innocent children," ntpia ttkna (xiv.264, xvii.432) . " 'N omen and children'' is a standard phrase in the history of Mediterranean warfare. Egyptians, Akkadians, Assyrians, Greeks

Copyrighted material

THE HAPPY HERO

1 13

and others usc it and traditionally place the women on the city walls in siege ti me.315 T he wives and sons behind the walls are incan\a(ions of the pleasures o f peace, or the pleasures of victory, since such a high proportion of ancient warfiuc was for portable loot in which women figured at least as importantly as cattle. Epic almost never refers to \Varas witmiug houses or land.t any more than classical war actually did ; the success of war is centered on wives and

Fto. 28 A ciLy under siege, watchers on the waUs, women and children : Corinthian oinochoc, sixth cenmry. mpia ll.k1ta. As a ur~it with the soldier they comforLh im, o ff'e r a part ofhimselfto

fight for, and perpetuate his name; after conquest the unit is split a nd the soldier's line gone. The dead in the: Odys.sry underwodd ask firs t about their sons. The Iliad Jays so much emphasis upon young fighters who arc losses to their parents that. there is little room for mourning a younger generation of child ren, bul there is a constant unsettling deployment of nr.pibi. ..Ntpios may tnean one who has not yet auair'led fu ll powers of reaoon, who is not mvtn·&s ; o r one who ca nnot yet speak well, or express his thoughts irt language, lnJ and €no~; or one who is not yet, or no longer, integrated into the gcndc (,;.,nos) circle.s of kinship.36 The Greeks may have considered the very young to be not seriously alive, with limited intell igence or language skilL At least, in the Iliad, nepios normally points to one who is going to die. From t he " innocent children" of the spa rrow al Aulis who were swal1owed by the snake (ll .31J) or the nepia l.tkna of the f.'\st deer who a rc crunched by a lion in his bed as he rips their hearts out (XJ.113), to Hektor who was nepWs to think that if he killed Patroklos he would be safe (XXI I.333), the word is fatal. It denotes limited perception or wit which will bring dea.th.

Copynghted r1atenal

TH£ HAPPY Ht:RO

The Karian Nastes was nepWs to come to T roy in gold armor ; it would not sa"e him (II.8j2}. Asios \vas proud of his horses a.nd cha riot: nepios, fo r they would not save him from the evil keres (XII. r rs). Chromios and Aretos were 11epioi to chase Achilles' horses, and d ied (XVJI.497) . Polydoros Priam's son was tupios to show how fast he could run when Achilles was sta1\ding close; his bowels spil1cd into his own hands (XX.41 1 ) . Pati'Oklos was mpios to as.k Achilles

if he could go into battle ; fool, he asked for his own death (XVJ.46, 686); he was a fool when he killed a child playing dice (XXIII.88), a fool to think he could ta ke their liberty from the Troj an women (X\1!.833), all r.,eets of unintelligent behavior. JVepioi arc those who do not understand battle and its design, O l' the gods and their design, fatal defects. Since women and children know nothing of battle and little of what the gods intend for them) they are especially vulnerable. The panels of the M ykonos Pitltos show them most interestingly137 in chat world of seventh-century Cyciadic imagery which seems so close in tone to the Iliad (figs. 29 and so) .

FtOS. 29-30 Creeks taking care of Trojan \ VOmen and child ren : panels of a rcliefpithos, Mykonos, seventh century.

For all its superficia lly grisly arrangementS1 the pithos is in fact as elegant, intellecwal1 and mannered as most Homeric battle scenes. It combines titillatiOfl of ornamental horror with skilled figure variations, partly grounded in the same tradition as animal combat scenes, a kind of witty ballet. T he Greeks have conquered Troy ~md arc taking care of the ljngering remains of Trojan opposition. Some women are run through while their su pplian1. hatlds are outstretcl,ed; mother a nd cl1ild may joio cogetl1er in an unheard prayer for me-r cy; the modler may offer herself as a victim io the foolis h hope of saving her boy, or may try to hold a soldier's hands as he cuts down the child. 'l'he boy may be split on a sword through the groin, or i t\ more usual epic sryle be smashed head down on the ground. This is the so-called :\styanax technique; there a rc two

Copyrighted material

''5 such scenes here, an old and simple way to kill a n infant. The general public learned with some surprise and secret pleasure a few years ago that chimpa nzees were carnivorous, with special appetite for baboon and colobus m onkey babies: and had long ago mastered the e pic technique:

Through some thick bushes I gtimpsed Rodolf standing upright as h e swung the body of a juvenile baboo1) above him by one of its l_ egs and slammed its he-.ad down onto some rocks.... Rodolf settled do'"·n and began to feed, tearing into the tender flesh of the be ll)' and groin of his prey. , .. The brain appears to be a special delicacy, a nd M ike very often ends up with the head of the pre y. I have watched him gradually enlarging the fOrame n magnum, where the vertebral coJumn joins the skull .... \Vhcn the opening ''li'lS large e nough he

scooped out the brain with a crooked index finger." \.VhiJc there is no suggestion that Greek soldiers really ate TrojMl b abies, Heta was perhaps not the first to wish to eat Pria m a nd Priam 's children raw. h should be stressed that, in this aspect o f death, the images arc an art form and express with the control of dis ta nce some aspects of the hero)s funtasy which the hero does not often allow into his behavior. The Homeric soldier is neither ape nor lion, however t.he imagc.s around him, drawn from ancient hunting tradition, c rowd hirn toward t he brute side of war. It should be stressed, too, that neither the epic singer nor the war artist of early Greece ever exploited raw sex, just as t hey did not exhibit wounded genitals. There is no rape in these scenes, and even the so-caUed R ape of Kassandra in the e pic cycle is not open sexual molestation, in the pictures or what we know of the poe try. It took the fifth century to add the explicit erotic e lement needed to turn the image nasty. Perhaps the absence of rape in early Greek scenes of captured c ities ma}r be explained in Lh.e words of E. Howard Hunt, t:he \Vatetgace conspirator, about his behavior in \Vorld \ V r ar II: "I didn't want to rape the j ap ,,,..omen/' he mused, "I just wanted to kill the m so they couldn't reproduce." :.o That is how Agamemnon felt, too, when he reproached tyfenelaos for being tender·hcarted (Vl.55) : "Squash· hcad [rrhov], wby do you care for p<-oplc so much? I suppose the Trojans treated your hou$Chold wonderfully? Le t no ne of them escape the cliff of ruin a nd our ha nds, not even the boy.child the mother m ay be carrying in her belly, let h im not escape but all of them die together out of Ilion. unmour-ned and invisible." It is a fact of life, or war-behavior at odds with life. •• Since the hero's war is predatory, and the predator or vulture concentrates on head and genitals, Troy herself is seen as a body to be hunuliated. Troy is holy, as well as being an enemy, destined to die Uke a child, smashed head down in the dust, the body looted and then burned according to custorn. "Now all steep Ilion is ruined from the head down" (XIII.73) ; "The people were held in mourning and tears .. . as though a llllion with her rocky brow were burning

Copyrighled material

116

TH~ H.APPY H £RO

in fi re from the head down" (XXII.411). " TI1e child is still nepios whom you a nd I made ... and I do not think he will reach young man hood; before that this town will be destroyed from the bead down" (XXI V.729) ." Agamemnon prays, 0 Zeus most great a nd g lorious in black cloud, living in the u pper air, do not let the sun set and the darkness come before I tltrow the glimmering hall face down and b urn the doors with enemy fire, and rip Hektor's shirt r agged around his breast with b ronze.

T ror is the most holy city of Greek poetry, "D11.,ov ip~v, i~;pOv nTo>..d.IJpo11; that is, Troy is dedicated to the gods, Like a sacrificiaJ animal, and becomes an

instrument of communication between men and gods. Sacrifice is nece~arily a bloody business, when animals are offered , and a serious on e involving tbe death of a living thing that one has nourished; • 1 and for the Greek hero, life was at many t imes a serious and bloody busi ness in which the gods were deeply involved . After sacrifice the animal is shared between gods and men, so that th e death bas meaning. I n wartime, it is the gods who charge themselves with giving meaning to the lives cut short below them, when men fail. The gods bury the dead children of Niobe with their own hands : "They lay nine da)'S in their blood, and there was no one to bury them, because the son of Kronos: tumed the people into stone; on the tenth day the heavenly gods buried them" {XXIV.610). T he gods direct the burials of two neglected fallen heroes, Patroklos a nd Hektor, bringing the men concerned out of animal savagery into human responsibility. T he gods order b urial, to complete tbe lives and tl.•e honor of efforts and love which m.ight seem wasted, but which would have been struck by innate mortality any·w ay, and to gain fo r the dead a measure of immortality in mourniu.g and ceremony. 'W ith Horoer a)) their necroman<:er, the Greeks elabora ted a tradition for heroes: in which death was as natural and inevita ble as in any q uick conflict be tween animals~ and in which heroism was best expressed, in a form of a rt a nd wit, as an oxymoron. The hero allies a kind of gallantry of mind to bloodiness of body and purpose; he is half..god, ~p.Ifho'i, as much an oxymoron a." a centaur is. lie does the impossible-combines immortality and mortality, in a fragile shell steered by some kind o f a wareness. The hero's life was a hard on e, the only genuine intelligent profession of death, in which a ttendant g limpses of life were give.n incre.ased intensity. But mortality always prevails because it is stronger than immottality, as well as more common and more natural.

Copyrighted material

F10. 31

Battle scene: marble gravc·rc:Licf, fourth century.

Copyrighted matenal

IV IMMORTALS ARE MORTAL, MORTALS IMMORTAL }Tis now dead midnight, and by eight to· morrow Thou must be mad e immortal.

A1ea.surefor JWtasute, IV.ii

IT wouLD not be difficul t to call a hero of the Iliad a dead immortal. T he mani· fold self-contradictions in Greek ideas and phrasing about death are not errors. They are styles of imagining the unimaginable, and are responsive both to personal needs and to old conventions. The same conflicts surge u p in many cultures. They arc necessary ambiguities in a realm of thinking where thinking cannot really be done, and ,.,·here there is no expe rience. Logic is not fruitfu l in the sphere of death and was scarcely applied to it by any Greek before Lucian, 1 although P1ato 1s brilliant views mingle the rational and the poetic at their best. The illog-ical themes of the Greek..o; flourish in our own cemeteries a lmost untouched by changes of J'eligion, thriving under a screen of austere OI' hopeful

religious doctrine. The dead arc somehow alive; they arc aslc.cp in their tombs or in Christ. They may recall their own names and make the past live again with the aid o f inscribed tombstones. 2 The grave is their passage, or dumbwaiter, or stair to another world. Tile dead have not disappeared, even if they arc remote. T hey are the largest constituency in the world, though organized in small communities, perhaps not in touch with one another. T hey are often dim-witted, or do not concentrate with quick emotional energy on the daily crises of their ch.ildren aod descendants, but t:hc::y are ready to be aroused like Sleeping Beauty if the right words are said and feelings transmitted. They are still occasionally visible as a ps;'Cht or an eidolon, sometimes small, weak, and miserable, sometimes large, stalwart, and informative; now, as in the Greek world, the form depends upon the evocator or poet's need and stagecraft. The dead body often keeps its soul in the grave, and the soul often wears its body to the underworld.3 The tie is hard to sever. The Greeks understood that the body and the soul parted in death, of eoun;c, and they focused on the sorrow of the parting in many epic and lyric verses. T hey never quite accepted it, however, and, as strong ly as any other people, felt that the link end ured, which was one of the western world's great contributions to the argumcntati\1C literature about mortal and immortal. The

118

Copyrighted material

IMMORTALS ARE l'v!oRTAL, MoRTALS IMMORTAL

119

terminally damaged body and the persistent soul were neither fuiJy s plit apart at death, nor really ,.,.cJJ coordinated after ic. These images, ~et deeply in the text of Homer, are implied by BI'Onze Age monumems long before. The Greeks sugges~ without fully admitting it, the idea that although death may be inevitable, it is not entirely fatal. Just as the Greeks, so far as we know, were the first to raise the problern of how difficult it is to think of pure nothing, or non· be ing, so their portrayals both imaginative and pictorial of death and what happened after it are naturally filled wi th content. Because there are words for, and wa)'S of d rawing, n'lOJ'tal elements after de-ath, there was also existence for those mortal clements, and their existence :-1ftcr death mjght easily be confused with immortality. In quick review of the tradition around which such speculation played: we have seen the Greek ho pe dtat intelligence was a major defense against death as well as a way of contemplating it; contemplation led to control. \Vc have seen the common link bet\.;ccn the intelligence, the eye, and the sun; and the wit which never qui te switched off in the darkness of Hades. \Vc have seen the tomb coalet>cing in shape with the ,.~~~denvorld) or lower ca,,c; t.h.e reljcs of old ideas about the da imooic mouth 1 the Jtom-ion, or ker1 that swa1lowed the mortal again into earth ; the tomb as the mystery of the loc ked room, the trad ition of traveling spirit.li1 the central role of the goos a nd family mourning as the cclc~ bration of the passing of the dead and the invocation of his immortal renown; and the immense antiquity of such traditions, which were too powerful to be altered by even the greatest Greek poets. Successive poets and philosophers had a series of nev,· insights into the meaning of parts of the tradition, o r ex: pressed it in new figurcs7 but d id not have and pe rhaps did not want the genuinely creative demiurgic power to substitute a new conception. Of course additions were made to the basic imagery of the sad weak PSJttht in the walled kingdom of Ha des, as in the Eg}rpdan side-cunents which evoked happier pictures of the makares passing to the lain Fields like Elysion, to '"'Ork, plot1gh 7 harvcSt 1 eat and play7 with t.he attached images of the fcrryman7 the sunlit unde rwo rld7 t he gaming boatds1 t he gold fru it and water, and the ba-bird. Butthosca[tractivcideasofquasi-immortality forthe dead who passed certain tests of goodness never full}' re placed the older and more democratic vision of the kingdom of Hades where kings a nd commoners walked as equals. In the Homeric picture of de:lth, it seems likely enough that, behind the intricate combats of animals and men 7 and the rhetorical or witty humiliation of the body to which the soul responded courageously, there was a community acceptance of the C)'cle of life and death, for heroic tpl!tmtroi as for beasts. T he hero was a recognizable oxymoron, godlike, half~god, equal to the gods, la68E~, itp.l8co!)·, &v-rl8s blood and god's nurture, god-suckled, StorpE
Copyrighted material

120

IMMORTALS ARE lvfoRTAL, MoRTALS IMMORT A L

The tradition of the godlike man in mortal casing who learns to accept death both as a proper par t of the natural cyc1e, and as a proper e.xprcssion of his relation to the gods, is fundamental to Greek poetry in the seventh and sixth centuries, following Homer.• Archilochos' double allegiance to war and the Muses, Kallinos' belief that death is woven by fate (1.8), and that longing and mourning certify a life (I.18) ; Tyrtaios' conviction that an immortal clement survjvcd, name or fame, though the man was underground (IX.32); Semon ides' tough catalogue of dc.aths and contrast of the long term of death, the short years of hard Life ( 1, 3); Mimnermos 1 leaves shed on cbc earth, and the black kera of death and age (2); Solon's salute to fate, TO. ,.,.&purpA ( l.jj}, all exhibit the elevation of old modes of copillg with death into poetic tropes of fairly standard though elegant forms. Death was a major archaic theme in all Greek arts. The corresponding tales of Greek myth were given new pictorial form or developed for popular appeal in the seventh and sixth centuries, telling of mortals who tried to a lter the ncccssit}' of dying: Tantalos stealing the JOod of immortality, Bellerophon r~tiding the gates of heaven, Ix.ion and Tityos trying to rape the great goddesses, unaware that immortality cannot be achieved by friction. VVJ,atevet· the u ltimate genesis of such tales, which must have different starts and histories of growth, the Greeks rega!'ded them more simply than we do, as expressions of the punishment which naturaJly fOllows man's ambition to become a god and avoid tl1e penalty of the mortal cycle. H uman power and wit we1·e too '"'cak to succeed in such adventures.

The famous text. of Hcraklcitos, cJ.0dv(I.T01 IJVfiTOl. IJvYJ'f'O(. &.8&..v<J.roc, {c.i:iJ.'1'(S' T6J.' i~<E[V
8&.va:rov, 'f'0v Sf l~<Elvwv fJlov TE8vEWns

(B 62) is hard to render with a single translation because it is characteristically structun:d by paradox and plln.s It seems to say: ulmmortals mortal, mortals immortal, living their death, dying the ir life ." There i.s little doubt tbat Herak~ lcitos' thought is rooted in myth and shaped by tl.•e traditions of poetry. Double meanings and paradox are essential to the best myth. This particular paradox is a linked continuum like " the way up-down one and the same" (B 6o), or the sleeper in the dark who catches light for himself (ll 26) , Since the relations between mortals and immortals arc seldom simple, paradox and continuum are useful ways of e..xploring them, in myth a nd philosophy a li ke. It was one of Hcraklcitos' many virtues, to have possessed the gill: for crystallizing themes which had been for many generations incarnate in myth and poetry but scarcely f'_xpressible. In crystallizing, he analy1:ed and re-ordered o ld images or exposed them to another light in which the facets of the u nder~ lying Homeric and older ideas refracted differently. Many sayings are simple

Copyrighted material

IMMORTALS ARE MoRTAL, MoRTALS IMMoRTAL

121

and gnomic: ugods and men honor those who arc killed in battle»> (B 24) is the Homeric theme of mortal courage in risking the only life we have, which the gods can.n ot do ;• " the sun is new each d ay," eph' Mmmi (B 6) was, long before, illustrated on Egyptian papyri of t!Je Book o f the Dead and told in the Mesopotamian legend of the Sw>-god's daily rising from the portals of the mountain range ofMashu which the Scorpion-men guard, "awful in terror, their glance death .., 7 T his is standard childhood belief, too, as Piaget documented long ago,8 and is partly sugge,stcd by ~·limncrmos' vision of the sun's bedroom in the east , ..·here extra rays a re stored, either because the sun was damaged at night, or for h.i.s new growth at d awn ( I I .j ). The thl'ust of Herakleitos' remark about mortals and immortals seems equally simple, a nd grounded in ideas latent in the Iliad.•

One might translate the text,

u

•••

immortals are quickened in mortals'

darkening but darkened in thcir q uickening," a close analogy to the sleep fragments. Sleep brings new Life in the rtight through being in touch with the dead, li.ke the Egyptian sun, passing through tbe river and world of the dead to come back to life ; it is like H erakleitos' related pun on o.p,s as both eye and apparit ion by day a nd night. •• The spiritual refresltment of being deprived of external light and illuminated intemaUy is as old as the tra dition of the blind harper, or possibly the short-sighted yet immortal snake. It is oracularly expressed in Klytaimestra,s ghost's famous urging to the Furies, in Ais.chylos)

Eumtnidt.s, yO.p tfop~-v Op.p,o.aw .:\apn-pUvNW, f]p./pq. 8~ p.o'ip' d. 7Tp6<1K07TOf {JporWv.

EliBoooa ~~~

[103-41 The sle.eping mind grows brilliant in its eyes, but in daylight the destiny of mortals cannot be foreseen. As life-light-sleep-darkness-death and knowledge are linked in Herakleitos

B 26, so in B 62 immortals and mortals are inextricably linked by death as they had always been by sacrifice. They arc dependent upon one another for support and nourishment, and mirror each other's qualities; for a n immortal god is without qualities most men possess, being incapable of death and consequently deprived of the gallantry and understanding which men, short-witted though they are, a cquire through the individual contemplation and social experience of death. As a sharpener of intelligence, a sundial to measure passing time, a heightencr of present pleasure, and a fixed prospect of the future, death has values which the gods cannot touch but which are the common property of the .-.unluckier " race. Immortality is a difficult state. The Greeks defined it negatively. Gods are a-thanatoi, not subject to the darkening of mortals. They are a-mbrotoi, nonmortal, possibly bloodless or inedible. 11 If the Egyptian derivation of makaru is

Copyrighted material

122

htMORTAJ..S ARt !VlORTAJ., MORTALS IMMORTAL

correct, the makares theoi of Greece have emerged into bles5<'dness after initial d anger and judgment; their perpetual food and drink and joy is earned by vulnerability and passage from an uncertain to a stable state. 12 TI1e frequent description o f the gods as u existing ever/' aliv iOV'rES applies only to the futu re, because in the fantasies constructed fo r the gods they could not exist forever backwards. T hey had begiw
them, were often periods o f danger, fo r rhey mig ht be swallowed, mutilated, cast out o f heaven, or banished from the blessed company. Since the lives of the gods "•rcrc expressed in simple biological figures, the}' shared the fa miliar pa tterns o f family life in mych a nd folktale, and to that (..'X tent experienced the weakness of the mortal child at birth and in early relation to his parents. 13 O ther principal epi[hets of the gods, like O~po.vtwvtJs, heaven-dwellers, or '0.\VJ.oL'' uo. 8WwJ.T· ;xcwr~s, u poss.cssing Olympjan hal.ls/' mark some kind of stable condition, but also imply those places that are not heaven or O lympos to which gods may be drawn-earth and Tartaros- ; they do not guarantee tbat immor· tality is static or secure. The gods seem to have no psJ'tht. since, in Dodds' words," the only recorded func tion o f the p.Q>tltt in relation to the living man is to leave him" ;u and th e gods by defini tion can not die or lose their PSJ
Copyrighted material

IMMORTALS ARE MoRTAL, MoRTALS htMORTAL

123

Sarpedon, it is something like this : Purpose and meaning give to human existence its supreme value; this value is possible only iu chc life tha t confronts obstacles, including insuperable death, and in meeting all obstacles this value is secured only by unfailing response to the heroic" iune t check.~: Homer is thus the first great HumanisL u This passage comes from a more optimistic and disciplined age than our own, when the hard way was the good way and suffering developed character, bur it is still an excellent comment on some of the relationships between immortals and mortals in the older Greek world. It extracts from the fictiona t structure of the Iliad a pro blem which always troubled the Greeks (and was the more troublesome because they did not consistent!}' distinguish between folk~ talc and theology) : l 6 why immorta.J character and behavior were so much worse chan IJlOrtal. \Vhen folk~tales of the gods, ttnd poetic mcchauisrns iu hctoic poen·y, were gtanted the standing of real iry, it was almost inevitable that the archaic doctrine of phthoJlOS should develop: the malicious, jealous attitudes of gods toward men as though men were a threat to their way of life instead of beiog their only stlpport and clientele. If che gods could ruin a man's hopes they would : uVp.f3o,\ov ~' oG r.i r.ptff,os- (ooopivtJS ~Vp(v tlf60fJ•· TWv aE iU"'-"'-OI"TWV TET,J4>.,\wvrar. ~pa8ai.

\\. n-oiVIa

' ~ .. a.vi!pw-::or~ :wpa' Y''Wf'<w ~r.co£v, ip.?Ta.>t.w pi'' rlpif;&os, oC. ~'&vtapats ci.V1'•~
c;J

[Pindar,

O!Jmpia" XIL 7- ••J

There has never been a man on earth who found from god a sign he could trust of action to come; ide.as of what will happen are blind. Many things fall on men they did not expect, a sliding back from delight, though some, mee[ing storms of gtief, exchange in a lict1e time pain for deep goodY1 \\' hether life is simply unpredicta ble, as the common poetic theme has it, and all action leads to danger; or whether there is act.ive malice from u the blessed ones," or indifference, the Greek consensus was that life was short, deceptive and painlul. It is pan of the Greek lc.g acy to the West, and almost a definition of humanism, chat the Greeks found grief, defecc and mortality, when faced with gallantry of mind, co be better than unea.·thly states of blessed existence. Caged in their unending existence, the Homeric gods still managed to join men in suffering from fear, anger, spite, lack ofdiscipli11c, ovcnvhelming erotic impulses, greed and anxiety. In epic. gods have mtrmira; they nurmeri;:,ou.ri; the word signifies~ like its archaic counterparts merimna and amichanie, a kind of

Copyrighted material

124

IMMORT ALS ARE MoRTAL, MoRTALS IMMORTAL

floating anxiety and indecision, a sense of not kn owing the right course of action because the future is unclear . Those who have most responsibility have most nurnura ; it is Zeus who cannot sleep and wonders what to do next, like any earthly king: .dla S'oliK (xfr v"481.1p.os tirr!IO$, d..U' ~ Y" f'€pp.~p,{t Kami. ~pllia. (IL3) . 1" Such uncertainty in manipulating action to b ring a desired result is odd, pe rhaps, for the father of gods and men; b ut the poet has no choice except to represent divine thought and emotion in mortal te rms. U ncertainty and worry are also a drain o n the powers. \'\Then men are extremely depressed by mermera, they can wish for death to end a life of misery, but the gods arc not so lucky. Zeus cannot always control events or protect his children ; he is caught in perpetual feasting among the women of his famjly who dislike him and break his spirit \vith mocking words, and sons who boast. and rebel against him, until the whole blessed pantheon is filled with grief and trembling. The assemblies of the gods have a handsome look, bu t ofico reveal i.n poetry those moments when life on Olympos was not well run, ou ktlta.kosmtm, but chaotic and bitter. 19 The e pic tradition d isplays a tough wit in its juxtapositions of gods and men, a folk-tale style which made Greeks uneasy later. The power of the Homeric gods is more muscular than spiritual. The only one who has real in tellige nce is Zeus. Epic is a panorama of blood, dust, and grief below, careless feasting and unquenchable laughter above. Such la ughter, t he do{JtOTos yeAws, when it issues from morral mouths, as from Pe nelope's suitot:S whHe tl1e courtyard in lthaka fills with ghosts, is regarded as the mark of insanity because the intelligence wbich ought to conuol the laughter ha!) been knocked crooked. Among the dying me n below there is effort, sensibility, loyalty, love, honor and fame; in the feast above there is hatred, deceit, quarrel, egoism, sensual pleasure and insecurity. The gods are insecure because they fear the future, which is long; they a re afraid of being exiled from their social group, of being lonely or hurt, of being mocked and taunted; they a rc in bondage to unful filled wishes and to lack of self-d iscipline. Gods can be whipped, as enemy monsters are (VIII.ro, XV. r7). They can be torturtd with anvils, like slavc,s (XV.tg), dashed out of heaven as Astyanax is dashed from Troy, and crippled if not killed (VJII.r 3). When they arc wounded it hurts and they cry, while mortals try to laugh or be stoical. Aphrodite sereams hugd)• and her Aesh grows black as i&lwr leaks from her veins (V .343f.}; Ares' belly drips "bloodless blood," OJ"PP'>•o• ~!;«>, and he roars (V.86.tf.); Hera's wounded breast is per<:civcd as incurable, &..J«cnov (V.394} . Huge Hades, pierced with an arrow in the shoulder, is also pierced through with pains, &SV"'?)trt n€11().pp.Jvo~ (V.399), li.kc the poet Archilochos when he fell in love; but he is sa ved by the useful poetic formula, ov~"'" y6,p n
Copyrighted material

IMMORTALS ARE MoRTAL, MoRTALS IMMORTAL

125

of divine images everywhere in the /Had, they and many related passages elsewhere show that one facet of the epic's success wjth an audience was in providing an opportunity to Jauglt at a nd despise the gods their lords. A hostile relationship, as well as one of dependent}', was perhaps necessary to a Greek who privately thought of himself as chief and sovereign in will until events showed him otherwise. The theme of the vuJnel.'able imrnortttl is con.spicuous in mydas of the Greeks. Pe rhaps it reflected a chafing of spirit under d espotic lol'dships of local princ.ipaHtics, or an impatience with the powers of a father, and secret d a ydreams of humiliati11g him and topplillf) him from place. Zeus' power is ugly, and possibly temporary; he masters the gods because he is physically strongest. ''I will lame their horses," he threatens H era and Athena, "I wiU throw them out of their chariot-box and smash the undercarriage, and ifl hit them with lightning their wounds will not heal for teu yl:ars H (VIll.404)· This is the thteat of a crossed child, Ot' a despot whose infliction of pain is its own pleasure, like the tales of torture and irrational revenge which Greeks were fond of attributing to tyrantS everywhere and in which they thcmsclvesoftetl indulged. Zeus has bee n chained up before, and may be again, with a probable future of be ing locked into Tartaros below Hades.'o In that prison under the roou of earth immortals could be chained in the stot·m winds, roaring waters, and darkness, behind triple bronze walls and gates, effectively more "dead" than the mortal PJJ'~hai in Hades. Gods in Tartaros were 1.10t free to move thei.r Umbs or to initiate thoughts except at the command of a superior; that is, they had lost two essences of godhead, powe.r and intelligence. It amused the Greeks to u kill " their gods in such fables. Sometimes lhe rumblings and fires sent forth in spasms by other " k illed" immortals like Typhoios, locked under a mountain by Zeus, or by the imprisoned Titans, would suggest to the world on earth that immortality could not. be fully q uenched any more than mortality could. They were signs to men that others have the same problems on a larger scale, and that neither t.hc present cosmic order nor death among men were facts in the sense of immutable condition. Both mortal dead and imprisoned gods might get out again and u pset the normal cycle, an oplimistic doctrine which supple· mcntcd the comforting theme of the vulnerable immortal and gave hope in myth before philosophy tha t with luck there was a future. In folk-tale men could take their own share of pleasu re in hurting the gods or holding them as servan ts, through the model of old kings who held the gods in bondage or threatened them with physical mutilation. Laomcdon refUsed to pay Poseidon a nd Apollo for their work on the walls of Troy:" "He threatened us and se.nt us away. He said he would tje our feet and our haods underneath us and sell us overseas in a distant island> and with a bronze blade he would shave our cars off. So we both went away with hearts full of hate, angry for our pay, which he promised but did not give11 {XXI..t-50f.) . There arc several tales

Copyrighted material

126

IMMO RTALS ARE MoRTAL, lvl o RTALS I MMORTAL

of this kind, with reversed roles of the helpless immortal and masterful mortal. One tale creates an ogre-mortal, Echetos the ogre-king of western Greece in the Odyssf£1, who specializes in mutilating visitors, cutting off a man's nose and ears with pitiless bronze, a nd d ra"•'iug oul his genitals for the dogs to cat raw (xviii.8s, 11 6). This is the folk-tale model for Melanthios' treatment at t he hands of his master Odysseus, who introduced lhe improvement of lopping o ff his hamb and fee t in a fury of anger (xxii.474). When gods arc d rawn in to such tales, the y depart from their normal religious roles, a nd raise d isturbing questions beyond the reach of any logic but a scholiast's. Are parts of gods i mmorta l>and other parts like cars and noses not ? \Vhat is god's ambition for wages? \ 'Vill he lose soc ia l stand ing among the blessed immortals if he has fewer cauldrons, stallions, and gold ornaments? Upon what docs Charon spend the obols. of the late Greek dead-nC\'1 steering oars and caulking? A drin k in the tavern of tbe dead ,.,·ho ha ve no ap petites? Tbe capacity to exalt and humiliate t he gods in fiction was a talent appreciated by early Greeks, a nd a sign of morta l dominion. The gap between mortals and immortals was bridged in other ways. One way was through the wonderful eompa:r\y of minor im.mortaJs who fo rmed, as it were, a continuum between earth-walking men without spl~cial powers a nd the high gods of OJympos. T hese are the rivers and springs, the nymphs o f glades and valleys, who come to O lympos at th e opening of Iliad XX; the minor gods like Pan~ or th e Nereids, the 1fusc.s, Maia, Amp hitrite, Triton, the Moirai, th e Houi, the Ch a ritcs; the gods who prefer the earth, like D emeter and Dionysos, or t be sky, like Helios, Selene and Nyx; tbc whole happy motley company of divinit ies who extt~nd in a n unbroke n chain from the life of the courtyard or t he fa rm or hills to the peak of the d ivine hierarchy on Olympos. Some of these a re like small landholders who need the great lords o f heaven to protect them. They are immortal but relatively wr.ak, like the river Skamander who, although he accepts sacrifices of horses like an eastern potentate, must call on supe riors to save him from death by fire. Hera saves him: "Hold on, H ephaistos, it is nor. decent to batter a n immortal thi:> way (or the sake of mortals" (XXI.186, 36g) . So the intelligent Sun cannot cnfotr.e his own rights when Odysseus' men eat h is cattle, but ca n only threacen to '' die" himself and descend to shining among the dead men (xii.377) . Nymphs may be called immortal, or merely long·l.ived ; but " immortal)! K irke can be frightened by mortal O dysseus with d rawn sword. Tha t is a pictorially sexual joke, of course, but it also matches other sets of images, like rbe psychai of the dead whom Odysseus warded off at sword 's edge from the b lood iu hjs sacrificia l trench, iu Odyssey xi, or the a rrow aimed by H crakles at Meleagcr' s ghost in BacchyHdes V. Neither the dead nor the immortals have reached a state of fuJI security. In theory> which myth was, the G reek wol'ld was clearly stratified . The gods were in heaven, men were on c.arth, and the dead walked below. Gods were

Copyrighted material

IMMORTALS ARE MoRTAL, 1\·foRTALS I MMORTAL

12 7

the most mobile, visiting earth and rncn at will, a lthough only Hermes usuaUy visited the d ead. The stratification became a hierarchy, or was one from the start: considered as a lov.··caste class were those possessed of death; in the middle, those who had not yet auained or been possessed by it were stiU optimistic, although free to complain about the future; and at the top, the lucky, rich, and blessed divine, who would never descend the social order. The lower bridge to death could be crossed only by the middle class. Whether they could aspire upward, on rarer occasions, was a subject with which myth dealt in serious poetic fo nn. One of the archaic fictions was that the gulf between men and gods could not be crossed, "' the bronze heaven cannot be c limbed'" (Pindar, Pytltian X.27), but archaic myth was busy providing bridges, or, rather, a double ladder up which some c.rcaturcs ascend toward immortality and others sink down co the da rker mo.rtal condition. Because gods need rnen to support (as well as invent) them, they are bound to a series of associations which are not always happy. T he frequent unhappiness of mortals when gods intervene in their lives, or their wives, is notorious, and is summed u p in the myth of the reluctant Marpessa who preferred a mortal sex life with security to a brief passion in Apollo's arms. O n the other side, from the Iliad on, the atmosphere of feasting and unquenchable laughter arnong the blessed gods was spoiled in two ways: that only poets and artists reg>olarly saw it LO admire, or that other men they invited regularly p roved treacherous. T he feast was tinged with fear and weakness, and cootarrtinated by the mocking anxieties of men. T he ladder to the top was not like jacob 1s Ladder, with angels descending and ascending, or those depressing reljgious pictures where the poor aspirant to heaven reaches nearly to the top only to be pulled down by devas in the sight of the heavenly gatt".;.~J. For the Greeks, the entree was by invitation only, on grounds or with credentials we cannot now d iscover, but which evidently have tlJeir origins in local cult or folk-tale. Mort:dls invited to heaven regularly contained their own internal spoiler, as in all the best lbl.k-tales; they left their manners and wits a t home, and brought greed (for immortality) and malice. The big sinners in the Greek world are those most successful in spoiling their contacts with the gods: Tantalos who abused their special d iet trying to insert mortal flesh. into their ambrosia as a test of divine perspicacity; or, conversely, tried to steal nectar and ambrosia to share among those who had not been asked, although he was, o r should have been, aware that ntktar, so intimately connected with llti.Tos the corpse, may overcome death or itself be deadly to those not nurtured on it, and that am-brosia is not for mortal brotoi. 22 l xion the murderer was one of those perpetuaJly djssatisficd guests for whom no feas t was complete without trying to rape the bost's wife in another room.23 Tityos tried immortality by rape too; and Sisyphos wheedling his way out of the prison of death with an expert vocab ulary outwitted the gods and infi-inged upon their rights. 24

Copyrighted material

128

ftG. t

IMMORTALS ARE MoRTAL, MoRTALS IMMORTAL

Pegasos shrugs Bellerophon off: Cretan reliefpicbos, sevemh century.

The dividing line between men and gods was rarely crossed with complete success, but there was constant pressure to test it (in the fictions of men). The aspirant to heaven was generally sketched in such a manner as to leave no doubt of his singular lack of qualification to j oin the company of the blessed. The myths applaud the ambition, deplore the execution, and explain why

most of us die. 2 ~ Ascent to O lympos is, statistjcalJy, the least successful method of escaping death. To provide an immortal future for the morral in partnership with a long-term inhabitant, as for Ganymede and Tithonos, demands sexual cooperation from the gods. Those who went alone fueled only by ambition and a sense of competence, like Bellerophon, were shunted back to earth ; as Pcgasos, with that famous moral wriggle, threw hh human master in exchange for a divine one i rl the stalls of Zeus. rvlonstets or sports like Pegasos were 5ensitive indicators in Greek myth of the status of ambitious man; when monsters stand for death 1 man may kill them. His other fantasies of conquering or postponing death normally included transformation, dreams of food and drink, and the exercise of cunning over a simpleemindcd opponent. In transformation (quite apart from cult origins of such ancient figures as KaJiisto or Iphigeneia) the animal who receives the mortal into its own shape becomes the receptacle for mortal destiny, yet it is rarely killed. 26 The transformed arc often as long-lived as the nymphs, or even immortal, by virtue of losing mortal aspiration; it is a successful crossing of the downward bridge. One does not know if the wolves and lions whom Kirke had made out of men by

Copyrighted material

lola.

2

Transfi)rmation from human to animal form- Kall.isto turns into a bear: South Italian, fourth century.

flo. 3 The traosforming pharmakon-Kirke alters Odysseus' crew: Attic black-figured cup, sixth century.

Copynghted fTlatenal

130

IMMORTALS ARE MoRTAL, MoRTALS I MMORTAL

Fto. 4

The family ·waits for H elen•s birth from the egg: Attic red-figured skyphos, Jatcr fifth century.

charm (x.21 2) would have been as long.Jived as their mistress, but it seems likely. (One does not know because the storytellers before Ovid stop with the tJ•ar,sfor-m.Mion, or it!S successful revcnsal. and lose interest in the ultimate fa te of

the character.} \¥hen tra nsformation is a. simple aition for cult or natural history, for the bear cul ts of Arkadia and Brauron or for the wee.ping of the nightingale or the halcyon, it may have no essential relevance to the mythical escape from death, to the transformations up and down the ladder between earth and heaven, animal and man and god. Yet in so far as the mortal loses his PSJ'fhe through transfonnation and still remains sentient, he has done well. In the language of myth it was perhaps inevitable that the Minotaur, product of Queen Pasiphae's union with a buU in Crete, should grow up to lx: killed by a hero, since he was a grass-eat.er, a generally fatal attribute in the Homeric system of imagery. Perhaps it was inevitable, too, that Helen, born from an egg, should have airy and predatory traits, swooping off and delighting in or even feedi ng upon corpses, although destiny in Greek myth and poetry is not always so simple. At least, it seems safe to say that Greek mythology o ffers many incar-nations of the mutual shifu bet\veen mortality and immortality which Herakleitos later presented abstractly in his difficult text. There is a minor strain in Greek mythology to suggest that immortality may sometimes be a result not of nature but of nurture. Tltis is a simple extensi011 of the idea dtat the gods live on special food. T hey may not eat meat or grain, and may not drink wine, because these substances endanger their status (just

Copynghted matenal

IMMORTALS ARE MoRTAL, MoRTALS IMMORTAL

131

as wine is the ruin of many giants, centaurs, and other innocent clean-living creative aberrations from the normal fo rms of life). O n the principle that you arc what you cat, you should be able to become something c:lse by eating differently. T here is a range of food and drugs able to achieve transformation both up and down- we cannot name it well, because the storytellers persist in mysterious allusions, since these materials arc magical and therefore hidden secrets. The Creeks v,rerc famiJiar with the perils of chancy highs and lows in the ingestion of these magica l substances, a nd used them to express a variety o f feelings about the instability of the mortal condition. K irke's drug which transforms man to be-ast is the best known, whatever it may have been-" drugs of gricf1" Homer says, '&.pp.a.'Co.. ,\vypd1 assisted by a touch of the magic waod. It alfects only the mortal exterior and leaves the emotions intact, except that, as the men who taste it become animals, they experience lethe, fotgetfulness of their desire to return to a human home, the ke.y the.me of the Od)•JJt)', se-en also in the effect of lotos food or Siren song. Their nou.s is basically unshaken, however, and when tbC)' emerge from animal form they arc finer than before, like the sun after bathing in the ocean at night, or the sleeper of H craklcitos' thoughts, who gets more brightly in touch with himself in the da rk. The converse upward push by food or drug is an old human ambition, though fewer magicians offer ic. 2-; T he principle is that one can escape death by ingesting particular substances which have the alchemical power to trans. form the blood from dull, mortal haima to divine ithor; with this new blood the quality oflife should improve, perhaps even pennanently. The gods support this state, of course, with nectar and ambrosia, fictions which may have developed simply from etymological playfulness. We are not io a position to know whether nectar, like ·makar with its uneasy chthonic history, may suggest an early recognjtiOI\ that god is dead, or at leas-t that drinking: nectar might be fatal to non·gods. Perhaps this is why Kalypso was so careful to separate her food from Odysseus': " T he nymph set before him every food, to eat and drink, of kinds mortals take, and she sat o pposite godlike Odysseus, where her servants put nectar and ambrosia before her" {v.1 96}. Since Kalypso wanted very much to make her m."l'l friend "immortal and ageless for all days" as other goddesses had done, one would have thought a quick switch in the kitchen might have achieved her hope, but evidently_. for Homer and his sources, a man cannot be made a god without consent of will; forced on him it may kHI him. For -some mortals the transformation occurred by acddent, therefore equally without an act of will. The chance ingestion of a strange substance could change a mild ordinary mortal into a truculent deity able to perform all sorts of feats too difficult for him before. The classic tale is told of Glaukos of Anthcdon,28 the fisherman who saw one of his dead fish land upon a bank of rare grass by the shore and come bac.k to life. G laukos tasted this "everliving undying grass,"

Copyrighted material

132

IMMORTALS ARE MoRTAL, MoRTALS IMMORTAL

& Til• ad{w• &
p rophecy. The sea which seems blank and trackless to us has s pecial paths and ways in

it, through its valleys and harbors, the .o..VKE I, for the new immortal to appear aod tell him the way home.

Glaukos' immortal gr.tss is a fixture in folktale: it is like the snake-herb which brought the ocher Glaukos, the small Cretan prince, back to life in his tomb pharmaceutically; it is l ike the fruit of the Tree of Life in Genesis, or the fruit

of the tree-fairy in the Egyptian underworld, or the life-plan t which the snake stole from Gilgamcsh to his despair, or the food and water of life which the

gods offered Adapa and wruch he rejected because he thought they were deadly, or the bag of the water of life in the descent of Ish tar to the underworld, or the food and water of life sprinkled on the corpse of the goddess Inanna as she bung on a stake in the darkness. Somewhere in our world there e.xists a magic food or

F10. 5

Athena leads Immortality away &om the hero Tydeus: the Rosi krater, Attie red~figure, ftftb century.

Copyrighted material

IMMORTALS ARE MoRTAL , MoRTALS IMMORTAL

133

liquid to make us immortal and unaging. In most mythologies we mistake it, reject it) or lqsc it, because of our magnetic dance with death. 29

In one Greek talc, rarely illustrated, the drug is called, simply, u irnmortality. 1 ' Sir John Beazley discussed it in connection with the curious lost Rosi krater; Bacchylidcs' words on the subject arc lost too. 30 The hero Tydeus, Diomedes' father, was fataUy wounded in the war before the gates of Thebes. The Rosi krater displays him on a rock, half-dead, .;,J.ItfJvrrros. Athena, who loved him, asked Zeus for the drug agai.n~t the dis.ea$e of death, to make him im.mortal, a,• oV p.i.v r.o•
was himself to become near-inunortal as a prophetic sleeper in an earth chasm and should have known better) cut off the head ofTydeus' enemy Melanippos and gave it to the dying hero as the kind of snack or pacifier heroe.<so longed for at Troy, an enemy liver to eat or a head to play ,.n.th4 Tydeus was busy

drav.-iog the brain out and sucking it like a chimpanzee when Athena returned; she was nauseated at the sight, p..vaax8Eloa, and grudged him the gift she brought. Grudge, phthonos; it always gets in the way; and we merit it. Evidently what Athena brought to the dying man was an old soul-food, a. drug, the phormalum immort.;\Hty, alhanasia. In the usual fifth-century manner

it was personified as a girl, the Athenians often confusing their organs of pleasure. On the vase immortality is being led away, and the head discarded,

all pleasures lost. That such a drug was once popularly thought to exist is suggested by tbe number of Greek poets who insist that it does not. Archilocbos claims "the gods gave us strong courage to be our pharmakon.," the hard real way (7.6), and Ibykos agrees, "there is no p!tarmal
After he has spent many years held in captivity."' Men who sleep with the moon, or the dawn, perhaps even those who simply land on the island of the sun, have already moved outside the usual boundaries of mortal experience to strange places where death and life interpenetrate in rubtle ways. I am not sure how the Greeks really thought of their cosmos; it is probable they seldom imagined it as we diagram it for them now. Certainly the Greek world had an outside to it as well as an inside, regions near or beyond the boundaries and springs of ocean where almost anything could

Copyrighted material

'34

IMMORTALS ARE MORTAL, MORTALS btMORTAL

happen. Ocean formed a flat deep r ing around the earth and seas, the river Oc:ean flov.ring ever back on itself. Half of this ring, if it were imagined standing vertically over the known world, would represent the arc of the sun's journey from east to west, through our air which is comained in a bowl whose skin is fiery aithcr. After setting, the sun either traveled back in a gold bo\..·1 around one half of the Ocean ring by night, from the Hcspcrids to the Aithiopians ; or his arc was a full circle under the world, through the gates mentioned in the second Odyss9' Nekyia; or through Tartaros or some narrow cave-space where he might damage h is rays. The S\10 1$ setting and rising pulled the other sky travelers around the arc too. For fifth--century painters the sky was full of such cosmic charioteers and horscmen.33 The moon foUowcd the sun with her chariot or a single horse; as the sun climbed, the night dipped into the sea with her chariot; dawn drove ahead. and the little stars went plunging into the ocean where they would be refreshed and washed for the next night's shining (fig. 6). These circling divinities, far from O lympos, alternately wakitlg and working. or sleeping and growing strong. offered a cyclic boundary outside of which mortal knowledge could not. normally penetrate. The alternate tension and relaxation of the cosmic figures in their cycle, tbe sun shining and rest.ing, the moon released from work trying to play with Endymion, suggested to many ancient people, and to H erakleitos and most Greeks, that life and death were on a similar cycle, that one led naturally to the other and back again. Thel'e were exceptions to the cycle and to the rules of the inner world. Occasionally the Greeks thought of five places where life was untouched by the metaphor of the sun. The fi rst four were east of the sun and west of the moon, in fairy languilge: east among the b rilliant Aithiopians and wes\ of the Island o f the H esperids; south, too, among the Aithiopians who lived longer than

Fto. 6A Helios r ises, the stars d ive into the ocean, Selene chases Endymion, Night rides away: Attic red·figu.red bell-krater, later fifth century.

Copynghted rT'-:ttenal

IMMORTALS ARE MoRTAL, MoRTALS IMMORTAL

135

•

.~' 0 -- ·

Fio. 6B

r

Helios rises be-tween the departing night and the dawn : Attic black-figured lekythos, early fifth century.

other mortals and set the table for the sun each night; and north, at the back of the north wind. Here were the H yperboreans who never grew old; "no disease or spoiling old age is mixed in their sacred breeding; they live without labor or fighting" (Pindar, Pythian X.41). Somewhere ncar arc the curious Ahwi on whom Zeus turns his shining eyes at the opening of Iliad XIII, neighbors of the nomad Marc-milkers, the Hippemolgoi. They a rc lifeless or exempt from life, the most just ofmcn.3 " Thcir historical descendants arc, for Hcrodotos, the tribe with shining horses, l..he Argippaioi who are still somehow exempt, a nd, in spite of their bald heads and snub noses, somehow divine. uNo mortal man offers

injustice co these people, for they are said to be sacred, and no weapon of war is stretched against them. These arc the men who make judgments in the disputes of those who live around them, and whoever runs away to them as a refugee is harmed by no man" (IV.23). (The paradise inhabited by noble savages is still a necessity tOr our imaginative lives, and most of us have still not abandoned the old hope that, around the edges of the world we know, live peoples exempt not merely from vice but from death. The international excitement at finding, in the last few years, the pure-minded Tasaday aborigines of the Philippine rain forest far off to the west, or far to the south the Jong·lived smokers and drinkers ofVillacambambo, reflects persistent ambition co d iscovel' the secrets Ol' elixirs ofpeaee and life.) The fifth direction foJ' escaping from the cycle of life and death is, of course, straight up. Some optimistic documents of the Christian funerary tradition

Copynghted fTlatenal

136

IMMORTALS AR£ MORTAL, l\'fORTALS IMMORTAL

FIG. 7 The gates of heaven open.

show that the door of hea ven will be kept open for us if we die from a decent life in to the house of God. Jn archaic times,

ilt

}cast, the Greeks were not at all

hopeful about this possibility; their myd~s had the gates of heaven or the great sky dosed again$t mortal$, and guarded by the Horai, the Seasons, against whom mortal ambition flew or climbed in vain. When the heavens arc closed the four boundaries of the earth are the more magnetic. To reach those distant peoples who manage life becter than we do is to share in the cosmological mysteries of day and night, to cross or penetrate the trackless sea as Herakles or Perseus or Odysseus did. "Never on foot or ship could you find the marvellous road" (Pindar, Pytilian X .29) ; the supernatural must intervene when a man p~1shes the bounda ries of nature, and help Perseus with his winged sa11da ls or cap of irwisibility, or allow Odysseus to learn the uncharted ways. Heraklcs must wrestle the prophetic sea·god to win a verbal chart, and dncaten the sun before he can come safely home in the sun's gold bowl. The western seas where the Greeks usually went when they were curious about immormlicy, because they neighbored the la nd of death, could spurt selected tra velers out from normality into regions bordering Ocean, filled with islands and coastal meadows. Here lived a series oflovely and dangerous creatures who regularly commented upon ma n's mortality or underlined its power in thc.ir own deaths. There were the Hcspcrids, daughters of the evening star, singing in clear tones around their

CopynghtE'C miltenal

I MMORTALS ARE MoRTAL, MoRTALS I MMORT AL

F1c. 8

13 7

Heraklcs crosses Ocean

in the bowl of the sun : Attjc black-figured olpe, late sixth century.

tree o f golden apples with its guardian snake; 35 there were the islands of the immortal and unaging nymphs Kirke and Kalypso ; there was the d a ncing place of the da\•ln-goddess F..os by the streams of Ocean ; there were the S irens

on their flowery island Anthemoessa, d\e Gorgon sisters on their rocky island Sarpedon; 3G t he faultless island Thrinakie where Helios the sun pastured his cattle;" the island called Red, Erytheia, where the triple-bodied lord Geryon pastured his cattle, and where H ades the lord of the dead also pastured his cattle. 38 O ne needed to be a master mariner to avoid going ag1'o und, but of course the point of going there was to land and meet the mysterious islanders. Almost all the island-dwellers are known in Greek myth for their wonderful voices. Kirke a nd Kalypso sing il'l lovel y voice as they weave (v.62, x.222) and Kirke is the "terrible goddess with voice" (x.136) . The Hesperids have shrill clear voices, second only to Night (Hcsiod, Thtogon)l 275) and their ta me dragon with one hund red heads is u master of m any voices,n £x~TO 8~ ~wvo.'is 'TTQ.fl7ol<us Koi nocKl..\o(s (Apollodoros ll.v. J 1). T he Sirens naturally "enchan t with shrill clear song:" (xiLt4} and even ch.arm the winds so (Hcsiod frag. 28}; the Gorgons with their gargling roar 39 p rovide the m usic for the fu neral wa il, which Athena wove when she heard :Medusa dripping song from her unapp roachable snake heads as sbe sank wea ry into t he grief of death ( Pinda r,

Copyrighted material

138

IMMORT ALS ARE MoRTAL, MoRT ALS IMMORTAL

P;·thian Xll.g). Even the guardian goddesses of Libya with their supernatural siren knowledge are "chthon.ic voiced goddesses," x86vt(u {lt;al.

a~~eaua.c.,

'?f>uoa< (Apollonios Rhodios IV.tg»), and Geryon is evidently named for his a bility to emit yfiprJs, sung poetry which teache.s, uterme noble et reHgieux. 11 " 0 Some of these singing creatures of the western seas were, like other hybrids, in the difficult position of being supernatural but not necessarily immortal. Anyone who is boru as a chimaira or a sphin..x, or even just plainly winged, must be aware that he is s~cial; but there is the same danger as the gods e-x perie nce, of being born outside the natural cycle, and being un$ure whetJ1er the cycle will complete itself in death or whether one is exempt. The shapes o f many monsters of Greek myth arc borrowed, from ~'lesopotamia more than Egypt; yet so far as one can guess it was principally the Greeks who animated them with characters and life stories of their own, beyond the usual destiny o f t he monster to be killed by the hero or to serve the god. Greek artists delighted in monsters for their curious shapes; Greek mythmakers, for the power of their bodies, a nd the ingenious, innocent quality of their minds. In Greek as in Mesopotamian tales they were destined often to be outwitted or killed, but they had character while they lived , and served as mirrors for men : natural antagonists with mortal characteristics but freer ways. Many Greek monsters, apart from centaurs and certain giants, were solitaries. They might be isolated entirely, or e.xpress themselves as twins or triplets, living on lonely islands, confined to hills or caves or desert places. T hey were a mi ~"tble if uudi:sturbed, but the stories they were in were designed to disturb them, and when in such stories a human being came along to abuse their hospitality or suggest a d ifferent way of doing things, they got irritable like a parent with a persistent and disruptive child. This parental character springs from the monsters' role as " elder creatures," relics of some past time wh.icb have been slow to adapt to our ways, like dinosaurs and d.ragons. Arguments b etween men and monsters usually end in the monster's annihilation, and in renown for both parties. Of the monsters on the western islands, some are considered in a scholarly way to have been death-spirits. This was true in some sense for figures like the Gorgons or the Sirens, less obvious for the Hesperids or Geryon, though doubtless a streak in their make-up. Yc1 it is not a. complete im..1.gining for any of them. They are not abstractions meant to stand for an aspect of death, like lr.er or thanaw.s. More vivid than simple darkness 1 they never come into the normal world to take any individual away to death. The man must look for thero, and offer battle, physical or spiritual. T hey have a richer life in fiction than even a popular figure like Eros; when myth endowed them with peculiar shapes and powers it endowed them with character, however faintly drawn. In a sense, the power of these creatures does not even begin until they are defeated or dead themselves, an odd fortune for a death-spiril.

Copyrighted material

139

IMMORTALS ARE MoRTAL, MoRTALS IMMORTAL

The Gorgon Queen Medusa illustrates this fottul)e dramatically. 41 The origin and funct-ion of the Gorgon and her head or mask have been debated for many years; she is borrowed from the East, and quickly absorbed into Greek fantasy in various forms, as a snake-tailed dragon. or a horse-queen, or a lovely dangerous woman. T he great gargling vokc, the snake hair, and the power to petrify, belong to an old world of magic and fea1' tamed by an otherwise ineffective princeling of the Argolid. Greek narrative, though not Greek art, drained out most of the interest of the talc by converting it into a Cinderella story, three sisters with the interesting one marked out for love by the sea-king Poseidon who lay with her in a soft meadow among spring flowers (Hesiod, Tiltogo11y 279). While Medusa lived she was not remaJ"kable, although doubtless very attractive. It was only when she died that she became both fertile and powerful in the world of men. W'hen Perseus arrived on the island Sarpedon to kill Medusa, or to be intimate with her (for cutting off a head is an intimate act), the death was at once a sexual release, freeing the Gorgon's children Pcgasos and Chrysaor from her severed neck U) carry her mixed irnmorcal and mortal heritage, and a guarantee of Mcdusa,s own immortality in myth. Until Medusa dies she has no powers. She docs not pursue men or kill them or turn anyone to stone. It is only when, through a cleft between the super· natural and natura) worlds, her head is brought back into the mortal sphere that her power becomes obvious. Because she was the only Gorgon sister marked out for dying, she became the only famous one in poetry and art. The

Ftc. 9 .Pcgasos and Chrysaor are born frotn the Gorgon's severed neck: Cypriote .sarcophagus, fifth century.

Copyrighted matenal

I •

FIG. 10 Triple- bodied Ge.ryon and his two-headed dogOrthosambushed by Hcraklc:s:

Attic black-figured amphol'a, mid sixth century.

CopynghtE'C miltenal

IMMORTALS ARE MoRTAL, MoRTALS IMMORTAL

141

Gorgons who are still alive scarcely disturb men; with difficulty we recall their names; renown without death is rare. T he myth seems to want to say, among other things, that when a hero prides himself on "killing .. a major figure of d eath, he releases both death and immortality from the debris. The mortal Gorgon mated to ao immortal sea-god produced children who evidently carry some degree of mortality, which is unpredictable in revealing itself. Pega.~os is immonal and sterile, carrying thunderbolts for Zeus; he is without marriage or descendants.• 2 Chrysaor, whose name should mean "possessor of the gold double axe,"" is not immortal, apparently, and has a son to whom he bequeaths the mortal strain, Geryon, Pegasos' nephew_ Geryon's herd-dog, O rthros or Orthos (his own half-great-uncle in d>e family tre<: of Hesiod's Thfenoites; it is a cattle refuge characteristic of coastal ranch ing enterprises, safe from wolves and lions. lOc juxtaposition of Geryon and Hades on the same isla nd has naturally suggested to scholars that they are versions of the s..1.me figure, or that Gcryon was a daimonic servant of Hades,, but it seems more likely that two separale tales were attracted . Geryon's winged triple body and capacity fo r personal death give him independent standing.• 7 There is a stress on landscape in this myth> as t here often is in stories of giants: the misty stable ofGcryon's cows; the river Anthemois which waters the island ; Geryon's idiosyncratic tree, p art pine and part fir; t & the size of the ranch across which Menoites must come with the news of Herakles' arrival; the death of the dog Orthos and of the herdsman Eurytion; an a tmosphere of space and danger. The picture of red cattle on a red island beyond the pillars of Hcrakles, where the sun sets, the world ends, and the ranch-king ma_kes a powerful or religious noise out of h is three heroic chests, is one of Greek myth's best} 9 Stesichoros' poem is full of pictures and eonvers.1.t.ion. The birth of the herder Eurytion by a Hesperid nymph is shown " in a hollow of rock by the

Copyrighted material

Ftc.

Two Gcryons dring in Herakles1 attack: Chalkidian amphora, mid $ixth century. 11

Copynghted rT'-:ttenal

IMMORTALS ARE MoRTAL, MoRTALs IMMORTAL

143

boundless silver-roo ted springs of T artcssos river "; the young mother returns

to the gold houses of the Hesperids on their lovely island; Menoites appea.ls to Geryoo, as a friend, not to sadden his parents' lives by fighting Herakles; the nymph Kallirrhoe begs her son, " Listen, be persuaded, c.h.ild . . . if you ever suckled my brcast,u and there is scent on her robes; there is a quarrel in heaven about the coming fight, and some ancient promise ofGcryon's death which his

grandfather Poseidon resists. It is a duel in the larger setting of epic. The center of the poem appears to be Geryon's gallant debate in the style of the Sarpedon of Iliad XII on testing his own capacity for death: Do not try to frigh ten me with death .. . if I am (immortal in family] and unaging (so as to share the life) on Olympos, it were better ... but jf, my frieod, I must come to old [age] and live among [creatures of the day] far from the blessed gods . .. now it would be far [nobler to experience] what is destin(...-d ... ma.y this not be what t.hc blessed

gods want [for me) . .. for my cattle . . . •• The "monster" does not know which race he rightfully belongs to, immortal

or mortal, since he mingles both bloods in his odd body; bad he been undisturbed by a mortal canle-raider in a lion's skin, he would have lived peacefully

and enduringly outside the borders of the mortal world. The outcome was already known from the pict'Orial tradition. Herakles played the game seoetly, from ambush, wi th poisoned arrows, us,ing gall "from the pains of the man·ruining shimmering-necked hydra/' and in a baroque climax Stesichoros shm\'s the arrow in silence, like a thief, piercing Geryon's forehe-ad ; it split right through the Acsh and the bones with god's will, stuck at

the top of the skull, and darkened with red blood the cuirass and bloody legs below. One of the three Geryons leaned crooked from the neck as when a poppy, spoiling its delicate shape, sheds its petals quickly (to earth). There is little doubt where the western poet's sympathies lay. Geryon does not know what could happen to him, for his destiny was immortality in poetry and art like his grandmother before him. Sarpedon and Geryon have a passing glimpse of what it might mean to be immortal and unaging, &.etivr K(li &.Y']pwr, but it is a daydream the heroes of Greek poetic fiction consistently reject. Immortal men like Ganymede or Tithonos are not heroes in cult or literature; they arc interesting attractive figures, instructive for some antique be liefs, but they cannot cxc.rt the same power over the mind as men who die. Stesichoros1 poem uses a paradox not

unlike that of the Herakleitos fragment. The mortal Herakles will join the gods through his work in killing monsters who s hould have been immortal, d ying

their life and living their death. Like the fruit-pharmaka hanging with the crucified skeleton on the Tree o f Life and Death irl Eden, [he superficially incompatible states of existence in Greek myth are linked by many mechanisms

Copyrighted material

144

IMMORTALS ARE MoRTAL, MoRTALS IMMORTAL

"It's awfoll.J kind ofJYJil, but I'm lrying W gWe up smoking,"

©

Flo. 12 Drawing by R. Taylor; 1948, 1976 The New Yorker Magazine, Inc.

of sin, redemption, and alteration. Christian doctrine was simpler; the good soul was bound tO be ble5Sed and inunortal. For Geryon and other Gtceks the moment of the test of death had to be f.1.ced, and the decision could go either way until the last. Like the reformed smoker in front of the firing squad, who docs not reaUy believe in death in spite of the compelling evidence marshalled against h im (fig. 12) , the Greeks persisted in the arrogant feeling that the world of immortals was totally absorbed in man, that they were jealous of his beauty and his wit, envious of his happiness, and deprived of something which only man could supply to complement the life of the god.

Copynghted matenal

v ON THE WINGS OF THE MORN lNG: THE PORNOGRAPHY OF DEATH 0 magic sleep! 0 ~omfortable bird, That broodest o'er the troubled sea of the mind Till it is hush'd and smooth! Kun, Endymion 453

TRE seventh-century poet Aikman, in his "other,. partl:eneion, the choral song for girls which is so pitiably torn, makes a phrase which seems at first deliberately odd in the conventions of Greek poetry. Apparently addressing himself to one of the girls, he says, .\uo-'J.'EJ\Ei T£ 1r6or.p~ 'f'O.KEprfrrEpo. o~·"' tnn'W

I K(U\ UUV
~t

'1rOT&Of!.pK~TO.t

"in limb-relaxing longing, she looks more meltingly than sleep and death.'' 1 Pathos, Hypnos and Thanatos are linked, and love is in the air. The "more meltingly than sleep and death" comes after a long gap in the papyrus, as one of a series of memorable images-a girl like a gold twig, or a soft feather. The seventh century must have been one of the great epochs of erotic poetry, though constrained by myth and the traditional decencies and puns of language. A poet so rich in inventiveness and sensuali ty as Alkman knew exactly what he meant by the melting glance of sleep and death. If these twin sons: of Night e.xpress for him the dangers and delights of the opposite sex, we accept it with pleasure. The epic tradition was on Alkman's side, too, although we are not trained to think of Death, at least, as enticing, since we have in some ways discarded a theme of more romantic eras.2 Yet in Homer Death was neither ugly nor malicious. He \'\tas a darkness who did not kill but accepted the dead. His more threatening epithets, like &lXMJXJis-, with ugl)• echo, or Ta.~Ey7]r, who lays a. man flat, were confined to men's fantasies as they feared his coming; he did not act badly. ln practice the Tl.>..o-s 8a:wl,.ou> came gently and Thanatos could be helpful, as when he cared fo r the body of Sarpedon in that one grand abnormal figured scene; he came often as a dark cloud or a mist shed around the head and covering the eyes; he loosened a man's legs and veiled his sight. Love has done as much for many. Dc.ath's twin or little brother Sleep naturally shared the f.•mily traits of the children of Night, with attractive and dangerous sides. Twins are often con~ sidered dangerous, and dangers are easily personified as twins. Hypnos was 1 45

Copyrighted material

.

---/

•

F1o. 1 ]\.f:arricd couple united in death: Etruscan sarcophagus. fourth century.

CopynghtE'C miltenal

ON T HE W I NGs oF THE MoRNING

I47

more completely personified in Ho mer than Thanatos, brought to a more visible shape out of general and inchoate idea..c;. He had a richer history and more ambitions. His two major scenes are with death and sex : the journey co Lyda with the battered body ofSal'}>edon, and Hera's seduction of Zeus wben Sleep turned off his shining eyes, through which the intelligent plans which governed the world expressed themselves, a temporary death (XIV.236). T he seduction scene made vivid the dominion of Sleep over both mortals and immortals, in a state where their cycles intersect, while Death has only one of these constituencies for his own. Sleep is small, ,,ringed and shimmcrlng, as he hides i.n the form of a chalk:is· k)mindis bird, perhaps a blue roller, in the branches of the mllest p ine on Mount Ida. The tree's branches stick through the skin of air into heaven, joining the worlds. Like other immortals, Sleep is unsatisfied and vulncl'able. He has desires- he wants a wife, a chair, a footstool- a11d he fears that once again Zeus may try to dro,•m hi.m or exile h im, as h.c t rl<.-d before to throw him "unseen out of the aither in to the sea," EM~pwv~ p.o.M.~eOs, &.p.{JpOoto~, ~,etp&s-. Th.e sweet enen1ating aspects of Sleep did 110t ahvays suit [he army's charge of a lertness; a soldier JUJ.Aa~e(fl 8tSp.,fJ!EIIOS Vrr"'!J even with his weapons piled beside him might lose his life. Only children n<-eded to sleep right through the night; a man could get bored with sleep and love-making; too much sleep without talk wasted time (XIII.636, X\1.394). This blinding and softening side of Sleep accentuates his brotherhood "';th Death, as he is shed on a man Like a

Copyrighted material

ON THE WINGS oF THE MoRNING

liqujd, a mist, or the cloud of death; he can run a man down, snatch him and catch him, hold him, master him in softness, and undo his legs4 He can transport a man to a different and necessary state, to bed or beyond. Like darkness he is the lord of aU, clrof 17aVTWv 'TE 8t:Wv 17aVTWv .,.• &.vepdmwv (XIV.233}, as a maste r who holds and will not release, like Odysseus' famous sleep on his way home to Ithaka,

"and sweet sleep fell on his eyelids, too deep for waking, sweetest, likest to death " (xiii.7g); or the bronze sleep that held Iphidamas at Troy.' The epic tradition of misty, limb-relaxing and transporting Sleep, both beneficent and dangerous, must lie behind Aikman's phrase. There may have been visual stimuli in early Sparta also. There were sets o f statues on the act'Opolis, wooden images in the temple of Aphrodite Warrior, "as o ld as any in Greece;' and images of Sleep and Death next to Aphrodite Who Postpones Old Age, Ambologcra• These were probably made too late for Alk.man's chorus, although smaU·scale images of tbe divine Lwios in bronze, wood or ivory may well have circulated in Sparta in the seventh century, when boys were rendered remarkably attractively. Sleep and Death are never ugly in Greek art. The Chest of Kypselos dedicated by the Corinthian tyrants at Olympia about 570 n.c. showed Sleep and Death as infants in the arms of their mother Night.6 It is clear from Pausanias' description tha t they were inlaid in con· trasting colors of ivory and cedar wood, the pale child sleeping, the d ark child "like one who sleeps," with their feet turned in opposite directions. There is a Hesiodic character to this scene of infant daimons, although Hesiod ltir:nself excludes Death from his group of Night and Sleep, down in front ofTartaros, the gods' prison: The frightening house of dark Night stood there wrapped in darkblue clouds , . . where Night and Day come close to each other and speak as they cross the great bronze threshold. One will go down inside, the other comes to the door .•. One holds light with his sharp sight for men on earth, but dreadful Night holds Sleep in her arms, the brother of Death, a nd she is wrapped in a misty cloud, [Thtogony 7¢.] the little darkness where the light in your head never really goes off. The infant Sleep in this context is like the sun, new every day, but quickly growing adult with his own house independent of Njght, roaming the world "gentle and !Undly to men " {763). In the late sixth and early fifth centuries the iconography of Sleep and Death became more fixed, although it still ftuc tuated slightly. They appear in a series

Copyrighted material

Fao. 2 Sleep with the body of Sarpcdon: Attic red-figured ca1yx krater. late !ixth cent-ury.

opyn .~

rr

1

r I

ON THE WINGS OF THE MORNING

\

L

Ftc. 3 Sleep cradling the dead Sarpedon: Attic red-figured calyx k.rate:r, late sixth century.

of scenes to carry away the dead body ofSarpedon prince ofLycia (fig. 2), or dead Memnon son of the Dawl'l:-only mythical foreigners at fil'$~, in the tradition of the JlitJd and the Aitlriopis, a theme perhaps carried on in Simon ides' d ithyramb A1trmum written for the Dclians."' At this work of carrying away the dead, Sleep and Death a re sometimes beardless civilian boys, sometimes grown but youthful warriors, not because they are aggressive in themselves but because of their duties on the battlefield. Their wings make them easy to confuse with the major winds, Boreas and Zcphyros, who were occasionally called Mcmnon's brothers and who helped at his funeral, as they did at Patroklos'.8 When Sleep and Death are young, the body often seems too heavy for them to lift (fig. 3); when they are bearded and mature, the body itself may seem childish and they assume a parental role. During the course of the fifth cemury, as funeral painting increases its repertoire, the)' begin to carry off ordinary Greeks, and toward the end of the century they even take women, who ha.d been nearly excluded from the serious world of Thanatos before;" the development is contemporary with Euripides' Allustis (fig. 4) . Sometimes the brothers may be contrasted in painting, as they had been on the Chest of Kypsclos and in Hesiod, •• an elder and perhaps more implacable Death ("the heart in his breast is bronze and pitiless/' Theogony 764}, with a younger more amiable Sleep, although this is not a strict rule and reflects the painter's need to vary his rhythms and colors as much as myll>. Sometimes Sleep may take the head, where he sits in life, and Death the feet, for the journey, but this is

Copynghted matenal

ON THE WINGS OF THE MORNING

' ,,

. -·

F10. 4 Sleep and Death carry off a dead woman with Hermes Attic white-ground lckythos, later fifth century.

watching~

not consjstcnt either, since the Greeks were seldom constrained by such obvious symbolism. Given the ambiguities of the epic treatment of Sleep and Death, and the difficulties in art of distinguishing among slight male winged figures, it was perhaps inevitable that the roles of Sleep and Death should fuse with those of other daimonic powers. There are several sets of brothers or twins in the archaic world who shared similar or contrasting powers. Kastor and Polydeu.kes

are an obvious analogy, the DicJ· J.:ouroi who work together but have different destinies: Polydeukes invulnerable even when smashed on the chest with a polished grave.stone; fly~• Xt8o., Kastor tied in eye and voice by darkness because of his mortal heritage, (rtdpJJA

tJva.,..o,

(Pindar, Ntmtlln X.67, 82}. 10

Other children c-radled in their mother's arms are not always Sleep and Death, but pairs who share their qualities as closely. Sometimes they are Leda's twins, the divine killers Apollo and Artemis. Sometimes they arc Ariadne's boys, the sons ofDionysos whose role in drunkenness touches on the spheres of sleep and love. Sometimes it is Aphrodite with her sons Himeros and Eros, Desire and

Love, reJated as Sleep is to Death, minuscule to majusculc. 11 Sleep is the tie between Death and Love. He comes unasked, and takes possession of the eyes; Menelaos trembles because S leep was not sitting on h.is eyelids (X.26); Hera will shed warm painless sleep on Zeus' eyelids and stiff

Copyrighted material

152

ON T HE W tNcs oF THE MoRNI NG

.~

-

~ •

..

.~

..."'

I'll\ t tt

J •,.

•

~· • ·~ ... . •~

F{O.

.5

Aphrodite witll hc:r twin SOflS Himcn)S and

Ero:~

( ?) :

Auic blac.k~figured pina:<, sixth century.

ideas (XIV.165). Once Sleep has settled on the eyelids anything may happen, travel, new experiences, dreams and visions, coma or love; it is transition, and though we know it has a normal cycle and should lift again (the little, not the big sleep) it may change events. The heroine Kyrene so liked to v.Tesde lions she had little time for Sleep: "she did not usc much of the sleep that slept with her upon her eyelids, tilting her toward dawn,u p&roVTa. '1Tp0s d.W, to a new lover and life (Pindar, P.Jthian IX.24). The scales of Death are more familiar t11an the scales of Sleep; tl1e Dawn stands by both of them. The poetic figure of Sleep upon the eyelids was translated into art as a little winged eidolon who perches on a man's head or heart, and binds him (fig. 6). T he painters, of course, cannot set him on the eyelids; if they draw him big

enough he will obscure the face; they set him at head, shoulder or belly where he will display well. The sleep that binds may lead to death, like the bronze sleep of Iphidamas ; this is most common in pictures of the Giant Alkyoneus asleep in the woods, stalked by Hcrakles in ambush; he will not wake up once Hypnos makes him quiescent and vulnerable to murder. 12 There are less dangerous sleeps which do not bind forever, but alter life, like Ariadne's on

Copynghted rT'-:ttenal

'53

ON THE WINGS OF THE MORNING

/

(

Fro. 6 Sleep perched on the chest of the giant Alkyonem as he dies: Attic red-figured cup, early fifth cen tury.

Naxos, where sleep is the natural aftermath oflove, and also delusive; dawn brings an emptier scene. 13 I n some sleep scenes the eido/qn is not shown, but Sleep)s powers to veil

conseiousness are suggested, as on Makron's cup (fig. 7) where two satyrs surprjse a sleeping mainad and prepare to take advantage. On the other side, she wakes in surprise; one of the satyrs wants to close her eyelids again and reduce her to a more passive, less enlightened condition. In other scenes where sleep and sex arc fused the roles may be reversed-although this is more Roman than Greek- as when a lovely winged image, a "lady/' a succuba, descends upon a sleeping traveler in the country, to surprise and bind him (fig. 8). This

Copyrighted matenal

'54

ON THE

FJG. 7

WINGS OF THE MORNING

Sleep and sex with silens and a mainad: Att-ic red-figured cup, fifth century.

is a theme of nightmare, the vampire who drains a man,s blood or strength in the dark and ultimately kills him. In these contiguous spheres of sleep, erotic change, and death~ Aikman's ulimb-relaxing pothosu seems exactly right joined co che enticing look of H ypnos and T hanatos. Pothos is the third brother to the twins Aphrodite holds in her arms, Eros and Himeros, and may join them in flying overseas (chapter 6, fig. ~5) or receive dedications j ointly with Aphrodite.u Potl1os is generally a feeling of longing in the nighttime for someone who is not there, a lover gone overseas, or the absent dead. It is strong enough to kill-it killed Odysseus' mother (xi.202)-or to ruin the images oflove, as "in the blankness of statues' eyes all love is vanished" (Aischylos, Agamemmm 416f.), but it can also be magical and necromantic, like the pothos which Protesilaos' wife felt as she slept with a statue of her dead husband, until she raised him briefly from the dead . Alkman's 1r68or ..\vu,p.EA"r is a predictable variant on epic Thanatos who ~oo< ~< yv.~, like the yearning to weep,

,,ov

Copynghted rT'-:ttenal

ON THE WINGS oF THE MoRNING

1 55

F10. 8 A travcler's dream, the noonday nightmare: Roman marble relief, fint ccn tUl')'·

which rises in a man"s chest v.rith the sound of funeral music. 15 Pollws is often used in the Iliad to describe the feelings a horse may have for his absent master; this association may help to convert the theme from horses to girls in archaic love poetry, Anakreon's Thraeian filly, or Sappho's me.a dow where the horses graze. 16 The horse, the widow, and the yearning lover share a need for a master, a 1ra.v&.JLcl:rwp, who can undo anx.icty as well as limbs, as Sleep Atlu p..EAEa~Jl4Ta. (xxiii. 62) . E·ros is the most magical and flexible of rhe three, with a clearer role in cosmogony and fertility, a greater capacity for helping men pass the time, day

Copyrighted matenal

ON THE WINes oF THE MoRNING

and night; a promoter of unions and partings, more welcome at symposia than Sleep or Death, and gcncra.Uy with a more enthusiastic audience in both poetry and art. 11 Eros had not grown a body yet in Homeric epic, but the common noun eros already shared the powe~ and epithets of Sleep and Death; eros sheds a mist or cloud around the head, veils the wits, lpws ~plvas ~t
't

I I

,, f'10.

g Eros:

Artie red·flgured amphora, late sixth century.

Eros was the par tner and enemy of Sleep. When Sleep brings pothos or eros it may involve appa ritions of the loved one or unsettling dreams of danger and parting; the intelligence may wander very far, the identity he shaken, the soul move beyond limits of waking experience. It is natural for Eros to carry the magic wand, to follow the paths of Sleep, and, like Hermes, to enchant, OlAy«, the eyes of men whom he wants to, and also wake the sleepers (XXJV.3·13 1 xxiv.5). Just as enchantmen~ thelxis, is ofien a strong element in magic and singing, so Eros is often the singer or musician, the Eros with the lyre, a scene which may appear upon vases in the shape of the knucklebones used fo r gaming, which are fit for the games of love as well as undenvorld games. One remembers Anakreon's phrase, that "the knucklebones of Eros are madness and battlenoise," p.a•i•• r< ~·< KV&,.p.oi (398 P.) ; Hcraklcitos felt that life was a child playing pessoi with gaming pieces (B 52 D ·K) ; he may have been right. Eros '"as also the predator, capturing deer and hare, running in the company of lions, as his mother mastered animals and as Sleep lulled a lion in a statue at Sikyon. He was classically the hunter with the bow, hard to fight, invincible,

CopynghtE'C miltenal

ON T H E W INOS OF THE MORNINO

157

Fto. to Eros the poet:

Attic red-figured knucklebone, fifth century. dt-L-1Jxavos, ti.v{Ka.Tos p.O.xav, stressing the old association lxnvccn toxa the weapon and the toxic poison dart. 18 For early Greeks, Eros the hunter who drives his victim into the net (lbykos 287 P.), or the soldier who smashes you with a bronze axe for the coup de grfice (Anakreon 4t3 P.) was scarcely just another pretty boy. T hat youthful i nnocent Eros whose looks conceal his powers was not much in vogue before the period of the Parthenon, when so much that now seems canonical to us was in fact original and provocative. The archaic and early classical Eros is adolescent, well-muscled, and powerfully winged, a dangerous compulsion toward sex. He is one of the company of winged rapists who transported you forcibly to another place, like Boreas the north wind, or Sleep and Death, the Harpy and the Sphinx; he is the Eros of Ibykos, the black bold love who comes flashing in madness like the north wind flaming under lightning, who shakes the intelligence from the bottom up like a wave of the sea (o86 P.). Homer has a habit, at mocking moments, of treating enemies as lovets, fusing the effects of Eros and Thanatos. The oarislus of war, the manipulated bodies, the lily-white fallen enemy stripped on the field with the spear lusting to taste hjm, the marriage with death, those ''jeux meurtriersu which have struck some as a curious prelude to Alexandrian bad taste, seem rather very archaic, and inevitable in war slang of all cultures.!'" The epic tradition said. in effect, that the losing warrior had round heels, and when his legs were undone he could take the consequences. This old battle style must have been further crystallized

and sexualized in the lost epic Aithiopis with its two famous anti-Greek stars, the Amazon queen Pe nthesileia and the Aithiopiau prince Memnon. The Aithiopir a particularly influential epic for Creek art, and helped make the Amazon and the Aithiopian more popular than ordinary Trojans like Hektor or Paris, for their foreign distinction, sex and color, and the pathos of their dc."tths. V."'dS

Copynghted fTlatenal

ON THE WINGS OF THE MORNING

The first scenes of Amazons in battle were painted early in the seventh century, contemporary with Aikman and t.hc Aithiopis. Their war v.rith Heraklcs, the episode of Pcnthesilcia at Troy, and geoerali~ed battle against Greeks were illustrated with undimmed enthusiasm through Roman imperial times. The

moment when Achilles fel t a shock of love for the Amazon queen just as he plunged his spear between her breast and throat had an early popularity; while

Fto.

11

AchiJJcs and Penthcsileia:

section of an archaic bronze shield-strap from Olympia.

the scene might be overwrought for the austerity of Homer, similar ide-as were latent in the language of the Iliad, love and death as two sides of the same instant. The only extensive literary description comes from Quintus Smyrnaeus in the fourth century A.D.:

Her strength was like the strength of Death ... she was drenched in hot blood . .. the son ofPeleus rushed on her in rage and pierced the

body of the girl and her windswift horse . . . though she fell in the blood and the dust her face shone out .. . beautiful even in death .. . Achilles could not control the grief in his heart, because he had killed her, and had not ~.tken her as his glorious wife [I.610f.).20

Copyrighted material

ON THE W I NGS oF THE MoRNING

Neither epic fragments nor archaic pictures hint what AchiUes' intentions were when he carried her off the fieJd, but her burial must have aroused intense feelings of potluu and the desire of mourning, Jlimeros gooio. S uch deatb ..flirtations, between Hcra.klcs or Achilles and his Amazon, were

sometimes designed in cup tondos on the same principles as the more familiar sexual encounter between satyr and mainad. In both cases there is pleasure in the attraction of opposites, black and white, male and female, willing and unwilling, and the underlying message from Greek painters and poets alike

that, whether killed or raped, the female should be grateful for any attention the male cares to pay her. Hence the pleased expre.c;sions on many Amazon faces, as they are carried forcibly into new countries and experiences, like the happy dead in a Harpy's arms. Eros wi[h the wand of Hermes, Eros the kiUer, Eros and Thanatos : it was a formal principle of Greek myth and literature that love and death were two aspects of the same power, as in the myth of Persephone or Helen of Troy. \Ve

have seen the daimonie pair of £roles playing at a gaming board (fig. u), more like death-spirits in the context of the association of the gaming board and the underworld, as though it were a supernatural version of the game of

Flo.

12

Winged daimons with magic wands at a board-game: Attic black-figured cup, sixth century.

Copynghted fTlatenal

100

Q ,.; Til£ \\.L'
:\ chillrs and i\ias. Tili$ take$ place under the handle or an ere-
Ftc. 11 Achilles., the goddess Athena brhind him. is 3113Cking Memnun. "hose 1nothc-r rhe da\1o'n -goddess F..os SUJ)pot"U his falling body: Auic r('(!.figurcd calp:-kratcr, carl)' fifth

~OIUI')'.

immortal presence is proper at important deaths. Tite two half-mortals who are SOil$ of the dawn-goddess and the sea-goddm are testing their o wn human rraining and talent, and not the quality of their mochers• powers inherited in rhem. Both mo thers act because of their m ythical m~snllianccs with men through one-sided love, and because the dawn confirms a man's death and the sea is one wny of getting there, and provides in the Nereids the oldest mourning chorus. ln the standard ~lcmnon scene painters usually sl1ow little tidola of soldie rs floul'islling a t each o ther like the bod ies they represent ; the watching

,a

ON THE WINos oF T H E MoRNING

t6t

mothers make traditional gesture<s of sorrow, alarm, and begging; the scale pan closer to the ground is the sign of death and deocent into the earth (fig. 14). T he enigmatic version of this scene known as the Boston T hrone uses for the central figure holding the scales, in place of Zeus or c.hthonic H ermes, a young boy who seems to be a clear fusion of Eros and T hanatos (fig. 15)." This end of an altar, made in South Italy in the early fifth century s.c., has never been satisfactorily interpreted, although several converging ideas suggest its cult connections.2• The short sides bear figures of youth and old age, the beginning and ending of in telligent life. The fron t has Eros-Thanatos holding the scales, and seated women watching the outcome. In the scale-pans, in the place of the usual fighting warriors, there are bound captives, naked widt cheir hands roped over their heads. T he usual mearling of the PJJ"ho.flasia has been inverted, because the woman or goddess on whose side the scale pan si1tks does not find this grievous, but watches it with tenderness and pride, while the rising pan which should mean life evokes a gestul."e of resigned sorrow. The relief has often bcc.n connected to the Persephone cults which flourished in the western Greek

0

~

' ~

\

F1c. 14

Hermes weighs the winged tiJola on the scale-balance: Attic black·figured lekythos, early fifth century.

Copynghted fTlatenal

ON

THE

Wrncs oF T HE MoRNING

FIG. 15 The Boston T hrone; Eros-Thanatos weighs the captive ddola on the seale. balance : South Italian, early fifth century.

world, and perhaps it was indeed intended to convey a "mystic,. doctrine, still fair ly new in the fifth century: one

t~hou l d

be proud of the soul tht' c sinks

because it has released itself at last from bondage to the long cycles which educate the soul after death; one must sorrow for the rising pan because its psyche is still a prisoner destined to rise once more into the upper world, the Greek purgatory, for further training in goodnes.c;. T he precise interpretation is less important here than the figure who presides over the judgment of death and release. He is Aikman's enticing Sleep or Death, a young Eros, a final Thanatos, an iconographic fusion of two superficially incompatible aspects of divinity which in the fi.fih century came to seem inseparable, like mirror images of two big human experiences. zs The change of experience which is mytbo1ogica1Jy marked b)' Sleep, Death and Eros seems to be more than a euphemism for the Greeks. It is figured in many ways: by immortal passions for mortals; sudden disappearances underground, into the mountains) overseas) up into the winds and clouds; a succession of rapes by Zeus, Poseidon, Hermes, Apollo, Boreas, Zephyros; and on the female side most conspicuously by Eos (Ap hrodite tends rather to love them and leave them).•• Eos the Dawn is the end of normal sleep, and in many myths she signals not just a new day but the beginning of a new life with the gods. T he idea is perhaps parallel to the phrases in the Hittite death ceremony which tell how the king goes to join the gods and the ordinary man returns u to

CopynghtE'C miltenal

ON T HE W I NGS oF THE MoRNING

the day of his mother"; 27 in Greece the idc.a is invoked for the passage of hero or Icing after the long ceremonial process of dying and funeral. When Eos the early·born, herald of tight and of the sun, rises fresh from the streams of Ocean and the bed of her mortal husband proud Tithonos, scattering her yellow robe over the whole land, followed by the sacred day, she is more than an eastern compass-point and a change of time; she marks also the limit to which mortal . can re.acIl: oov ' •• ' ' £0"1'Ct . " " £1Tu
Copyrighted material

ON THE W I NGS oF THE MoRNING

gods have only two easy ways of communicating with men: by killing them or raping them. The rape motif is not onJy Greek, of course, and the famous rapes centered in the old royal fami1)' of Troy- weaving beautiful boys, wind -swift horses, wind-storms, harpies, and the gods into a splendid shifting pattern of interchange- where there may be clements of Anatolian ritual as well as Greek taste~ It was not uncommon for the Greeks to displace perfe-ctly Hellenic erotic scenes onto "foreigners,, as in the cases of Aphrodite, Adonis, l\ndromeda, Dionysos, Medea and Phaidra. The Trojan princes Ganymede and Tithonos were wclcoroe in the Greek pantheon, whatever the genesis of their myths. Zeus took Ganymede, Eos took Tithono~ both "for the sake of his beauty,, K
Copyrighted material

ON THE WINOS OF THE MORNING

FtG. 16 Eos the dawn·goddess rape$ Tithonos from Troy : Attic red-figured cup, ear ly fifth

ct:n tU.r)'•

seem so young and light for Sleep and Death to ca rry. Dawn is o ne of the transporters out of the darkness toward the rising sun and the O cean, and the dead cling to her in the air since they have no othel' mother co turn to (fig. r7) . Naturally these child ish p iccurcs have an advantage fo r the artist too, since it is

more persuasive that the 1ight-winged Dawn could carry such bul'dens; when she cannot, when she lifts her dead son Memnon in her arms, he is rendered on a heroic scale and we know he is too heavy. Sleep and Death must intervene. But a more subtle impression is com•eyed by the small boys, that the Dawn has taken on the role of the chief female singer of the funeral lament, and that her emotion is pathos, which wou ld later in manipulaLive hands be cofwerted [ 0

run eros.

Copyrighted matenal

166

ON THE

Wmos OF THE MoRNING

F1c. l 7 Eos the dav.n~goddess carries a boy to a better world: Attic red-figured rhyton, fifth century.

Ganymede is also hesitant to go, aldtough he will fill the distinguished role of being Zeus' cup·bcarcr, a post which is often filled from a royal or noble house in the East. 29 If there is other work involved, Ganymede may seem too young for it; and yet his name implies his capacity for work. Zeus is the supreme muscular power among the gods, and the supreme intelligence; his wit and his genitals are the sa.me, mtdta, the intellectual powers and the generative powers.30

The Zeus who p.7j&to. ElaWs is also the Zeus who dizzies the observer of Greek myth witJ, his capacity for union with phalanxes of mortal women who are, in spite of the honor, still careful to transmit their own mortality nearly intact to their sons. If, when Zeus withdraws to Olympos between earthly expeditions, Ganymede is able to put a new high sheen o r poJish, y&.vos, y&.Jrvp.
Copynghted matenal

ON THE

WINGS OF T HE MORNING

Flo. J 8 {above) Zeus rapes Ganymede from Troy: Attic red-figured kanthat'()$. early lillh century.

Frc. rg (lt/1}

Rape by the

heavenly eagle makes domestic difficulties: drawing by Cbas. Addams; ..GtCrgt! Gtwgel Drop W klys!"

© 19-•8, 1976 The ,N ,w 1'ork.tr !o.bgazine, Inc.

literal-minded questioner1 asking how did he get there? "God gave him wings,

dear.u Ganymede assumes his new wings to mark his passage, and to play his new immortal role as Zeus• private Eros. Angels of love and death are still winged for us. After the fifth century it grew more popular to conceive of che rape of Ganymede with the big bird coming out of the skies co get him. Erotic mismatching of bodies was a classical taste ; such sexual fusions as Leda and the swan- " Zeus brilliant through the upper air snowflcshcd on sv..-a.n's wing ~' (Eurip ides, Helen 2 15)-would replace the archaic vision of the Harpy or· Siren with her dead warrior. The birds of the Iliad also played a role somewhere between death a nd rape, as the vulture-s wived the corpses. Sappho's Aphrodite crossed the gulf between gods and men behind lecherous sparrows whirling on crowded wings 1 and the soul exalted in love is lifted, on alien wings or on its own. \t\1hat Paris gave Helen was more than a long sea-voyage, it was wirlgs for Right: &.V(r..r.-rcpW<1Qs cuJ,..ryv oixtu:u €x
Copyngilted rJai nal

t68

ON THE WtNCS oF THE MoRNING

Fto. 20 A wind-god winged at shoulder and heel: L.'\c<.>J'lian black-figured cup, sixth century.

of Ocean for peaceful oblivion. For women it is the North \'\'ind Boreas or his sons who descend ••ror the sake of their beauty,•• winged at shoulder and ankle; they descend like Ibykos• Eros the storm-wind, or Sappho's Eros who rattles her wits the way a wind falls on mountain oaks (~86 P. ; 47 D.) . Like Eros and Thanatos, like Eos, the wind-gods play a double role in the game of disappearing mortals, lighting their funeral pyres or carrying them off for love, as Boreas took Oreithyia from the grassy riverbank in Athens. That scene was not painted before the historical moment when Boreas helped Athens against the Persian fleet off Euboia in 48o, but when it does appear in early classical art it codifies a much older theme. The wind-god comes in agitated power with bristling hair and ruffled clothes. he who was the father of storm-footed horses, who mated with the Harpy, ciprrvi'a, the storm-gust who is also thue/14 the snatching hurricane.

CopynghtE'C miltenal

ON THE WINGS oF T HE MoRNING

169

Greek women had for centuries ,.,..isbed to die in such an embrace, especially when they felt stupid or uncertain, as men might wish the earth to swallow them in similar moods. So Penelope's dramatic desire, "I wish a storm-gust would snatch me up and carry me along the misty paths and drop me where surging Ocean pours his streams" (xx.6tf.), as she begins the affecting tale of the daughters of Pandareus who were snatched off by thuellai or lulrpuiai-the terms arc interchangeable. So Helen wants the tlwtJla to have ta_ken her: "'how I wish a wicked whirl of wind had carried me into the hill or the wave of the noisy sea, where the wave ,..,·auld have washed me away before these things could happen" (Vl.345) . These were similar destinations, the cavern or the cavern of the deep. It is a safe feminine wish, unlikely to be fulfilled~ and it is usually made in poetic contexts where Eros threatens or delays. 0.3 The terrific power of sto rm-winds living in mountains and blasting out through caves along the light--legged paths of the winds, )l.a&4dJpa KI)I.Ev8a., made them natural carriers to unexpected invisible places. Alkaios had t he idea that Eros was himself the child of the west wind Zephyros with gold hair, and the rainbow Iris (327.3 L·P.). T his may b e a spontaneous idea, or a pedigree of respectable antiquity in the Aegean, considering ~iycenaean references to the priestess of the Winds at Knossos, and to Zepbyros at Pylos, or the epic formula for the dead going tmO ~Of,ov ~Ep0EV1'a, under the windy dark, Zephyros' home in the west.Ot Zephyros is as competent an impregnator as Boreas; and fathered the famous Trojan horses on the Harpy, the payment for Ganymede caught up by the storm wind for Zeus. He is most often seen taking young boys, but his sexual powers were clearly not restricted. 35 The Harpy-winds arc most beguiling on the Harpy Tomb of Xanthos in Lycia.36 Titey are the mother~birds at the comers, carrying the little bodies of the dead who retain enough life and emotion to reach up their arms about the Harpies' necks with Jove. Here is a happy guidance and caring, a voyage not nece,ssarily to Hades at all, but 10 some kind of fruitful paradise which the Harpy's aesthetic descent from Egypt mjgbt promise. Of course the scene is more Lycian than Ionian, the Lycia of Sarpedon who may be linguistically related to the Harpy; so Sophoklcs wrote that the winds lived in caves by the rock of Sarpedon, lv d,vrpo,s. ;vOo. Eap1T'Tj~Wv -nl-rpa. {T_ympanistai, fr. 575), a Sarpedon cliff d istinct C.·om the Ad antic island so called by Stcsiehoros and the island of the Gorgons named by Hesiod .37 It is not too surprising that Homer makes Sarpcdon the subject of the only big snatch in the Iliad, though he tl'ansformed the carriers from lady birds to Sleep and Death, to match more familiar configurations of epic mortality. Harpjes arc often difficult to distinguish from Sirens until the latter's feet grow webbed; they are equally charming as they wait, so often, under the handles of vases with battle scenes, until the dead warrior is ready to go-often simply ornamental figures, but with an inherited content in the language of

Copyrighted material

l

:L •••

a

a ret.-

~:!!iC•>

•

-,., ~

~ a

•

-

fro. 21 A Harpy cradles a dead man on the way to a bc:tttt world: Lycian marble rdicf from a pillar-10mb ao Xanohoo, co.rly fifth century.

ON THE W I NGS OF THE MORNING

war art. Like other wind-gods and rapists the Harpies seem deeply a ttached to those they remove. However, the transformation they effect may be too private in its happy obscurity; so they arc thought to have snatched a,...·ay Odysse us without klt.os1 though probably careful of his other needs {i.2.p ). Of all the winged lovers and dcath-kt~res, Sphinx is the most muscular a nd erotic. \Vc have seen. her as a death-a ngel on Mycenaean coffins. and as a guardian of che house a nd the tomb.::.o Her glide into the classical world of war and fune rals was assured by the beginning of cbe seventh century, where she would join a proce-ssion of soldicrsJ accompany the ekphora, and mingle with the dogs and birds of battle, whose feaU.JI.'CS she combines. Like the funeral horse and the mourning woman, she is e mbro idered upon the robes of Athenian ladies performiug the lament, or painted on dice for the underworld gamc.39 She , . . a its beside the younger H arpies on the field of battle; like the Siren, she marks the tomb; h er most general function throughout classic.al antiquity is to act as watchdog on a grave stele or pillar, to punish those \•.rho disturb the dead. The dead arc at once her victims and her lovers. The Sphinx is exccptionaUy attract.ive and inte.lligent, a singer, the poetic hound, Pa4;w80r; J(Vwv (Sophokles) Oidipbus 391 ) who makes her victims sing or S\mg abo\lt) "carrying hel' tuneful huming in her talons,n dc{8,,..oov O.ypo.v (Euripides, Elektra 472) . She is sometimes t reated as the Hound of Hades, the equivalent of Kerbcros on the female side (in myth she is his njece, fathered by Geryon)s dog but harder to kiU than her father) ; like Kerberos, a wingless version of her can occasionally be seen following on a leash behind Hcraklcs, acquiescent because she is inte rested in men.40 Greek artists often emphasize her femininity, giving her human breasts or S\\'CJling teats, like a lion's, full as though she had jus! give n birth and were read}' to suckle, or were ready for an episode of passion. The difference is that a Lioness in this mood can usuaUy find a lion~ but the Creek male sphinx is notoriously rare and shy; in a ny case, the female sphinx really ptefcrs young men. Sphinx spcn.ds muc h of her artist ic life talkillg with young boys, with Oidipou.s or othel' youths ofThebe.s, posing them riddles of what life and man· hood may be when they are still too inexperienced to understand) like a demon lover offering new knowledge and sexual success. She combines the clawed body of a man·cater with the woiogs of a raptor and a face made for love, a.nd clulllS}' man who prides himself on his intellige1lCC is likely to e nd up eaten in her cave, a bordello full of bones, and a ca vernous passage to other places. A series o flate archaic pictures show Sphinx inflamed with crotk desire, pursuing yoWlg men (fig. 23) ; h im she catches she cradles in her paws close to her swollen belly- like a mother with her young? A lady with her lover? A hungry predator? •

• \

'

Q;

tm'O AEOV1'0170VV ,..aatV >

..I.'

••

'

0/TrOopEpoUa WKtnr"rEpoV

Copyrighted material

Faa. 22 The Sphinx on her pillar instructs che youth:J of Thebes : Attic red·figured pelike, flflh century.

a

ON THE WINGS OF THE MORNING

f'IG. 23 The Sphinx pursues attractive boys and gets one: Attic black-figured cup, late sixth century.

Hsnatching away in quick winged lionfooted motion." 41 The songs of the Spbjnx thac accompanied her quest for young men must have had different tunes we can barely imagine. Sometimes the boy is an cphcbc, armed and alarmed, who figlm back (though he may smile) ; sometimes he is quiet and contented, and seems to learn more from his mentor than the infant dead whom the Harpies carry. From small archaic gems to the great marble composition

F10. 24 Sphinx gets her man: chalcedony gem by the Semon Master> early fllth century.

which once ornamented the throne of the Pheidian Zeus at Olympia and was reproduced at Ephesos, the theme of the raping sphinx was a popular and important one for Greeks rcAcctlng on mortality. T he act of death could be an act of love. It could be painful or pleasant, but for Greeks it was usually insuuctive. T he winged agent of death might protect the body, or mother it, straddle it like a battle-companion> or mate it~ it always knew what to do next, and could guide a mortal to a state of which he had no experience before.42 Jn this context, it is not surprising to find on one odd gem a figu re of Eros masquerading as a sphinx (fig. 25}.4 3 Eros is a changeable power with d aimonic transfOrmations; as hunter> as raptor, as a winged companion of lions and a song-maker, as a form ofThanatos, he fuses well with Sphinx. But most of all, winged Eros is master of the cock, the favorite Athenian love gift; and of the cock-end of that typically Greek invention the pha!lo..bird, a playful and witty animal- the peeker, -rO 11'0v.\&xt, lr, oiseau que le.sftmmt.S lldorenl, das VOgel~ Jchen-it too can be the agent of travel in strange realms and may substitute for

Copynghted fTlatenal

174

ON THE WINOS OF THE MORNING

Fta. 25 Eros as a sphinx: bronze ring, fourth century.

more normal angels. It is surely in this sense that the phallos is sometimes marked on the tomb, defiant of death, and that the phallos·bird who shares with the de..1.d a consuming need for fresh water may haunt the bird-bath or

mark the grave (fig. 26).'* In other pictures the pha.llos-bird may have clawed talons like a Harpy, and carry a flower-tendril like Eros who comes with the

Fro. 26 A phallos-bird perthes

on a bird-bath (over a grave?): Attic red-figured pelikeJ flfth century.

CopynghtE'C miltenal

ON T HE W INGS OF THE MORNING

175

F10. 27 A phallos-bird as a soul·bitd in poetic reverie : East Greek kalpis, sixth century.

spring flowers, a soul-bird singing a siren song, unmistakeably headed in the right direction.46 The whole ra nge of games \•v hich Greek poets a nd painters play around the

theme of the winged angel of death springs from a very natural feeling that I.e coq, c'tst moi; and that both their generative and their imcUcctual powers arc welcome to the gods, a nd may, with god 's grace, survive death. This must be the message of one of the most peculiar of all Greek grave-reliefs- it seems to be a grave-relief and not a public monument-from the island of Kos, made r:tbout 530 e.c. ll presents death as a cont inuing \•.rild party, a symposium where the music sounds and the bodies refuse to yield to the chill of mortality, but enjoy life even beyond its natu ral end until collapsed in exhaustion on the floor.tf1 Even the Etruscans produced no mo1·e j oyful a nd hopeful monument. The same hope is expressed in one of Anakreon's pleasanter poems, which ends, unfo rtunately, in a pun I cannot translate: 47 There is gray upon my temples and my hair is turning white now; my delightful youth is passing and my teeth arc rather aged; of the sweetness of a lifespan not so many days are left me-

so my sobs rise close together because T artaros has scared me; for the inner room of Hades is a frightful place, and savage is the path down and a man m..ight never get it up again there.

Copyrighted material

Fto. 28 Athena carries a dead soldier over the waves: Attie black-figured olpe, late sixLh century.

CopynghtE'C miltenal

ON THE WtNcs oF THE :t'v{oRNING

J<arofJciVTt I'~ dvajl~vat: possibly "deflated," {(amputated/' "not mated/' but the rendering is difficult. So. for some poets, there is doubt that the v..-ay down and the way up is one and the same, but humor allays the common fear. What is perhaps wrongly called here the pornography of death is only one part of a far more general and serious theme, interconnected spheres of fictions through which the Greeks insisted upon thcil' real goodt'lCSS and dcsil'cabilityqualities which were noticed by the gods, and to which they responded by coming down swiftl}' from heaven with all medta flying. Greek fantasies of being lovers of the gods were linked to their certainty of being children of the gods. The gods Joved them as parcoers, and cared for them as parents, the creators and progenitors who would, in some hopes, take care of them when they died. Death on the wings or the morning had two sides. Eos the Dawn goddess' disappointment in a moJ:tal love was less euduting than her feeHng for her half-mortal son ~
Such knowledge is too wonderful fo r me: it is high. I cannot attain unto it ... If I ascend up into heaven thou art there: if I make my bed in hell, behold tl>ou an there. If I take the wings of the morning and dwell in the uttermost parts or the sea Even {here shall thy hand lead me and thy right hand shall hold me ... . . . the darkness and the light arc both alike to thee~ For thou hast possessed my reins: chou hast covered me in my mother's womb. . . . I am tearfully and wonderfully made. The Greeks shar<:d those feelings of mystery, but, being Greeks (and this may be the reason many of us are Hellenists) they lightened the potential bathos of the theme with fre.q uent, necessary, and refreshing sparks of irreverence and self-mockery.

Copyrighted material

VI SEA MONSTERS, MAGIC, AND POETRY Death: like a narrow sea~ divides T hVpt IH(1• 0'1"0 r.(,\ayo. 0'~<&,\u a-rOv K
,.d bourne of death " (flippo()'IOS 139). T he admirable T imothcos saw the emerald sea reddening in shipp~~ drops as she ga rgled on soul-less bodies; but

179

Copyrighted material

r8o

SEA MONSTERS, MAGIC, AND POETRY

perhaps the most embarrassingly memorable lines a bout the sea were not by a Hellene but a Phil-Hellene, Byron's remarkable rhyme

There is no sea the passenger e'er pukes in casts up more dangerous breakers than the Euxine. 1 Because the Greeks were interested in unseen possibilities, the horizon between what they knew and what they imagined was easily represented for them by the water surt1.ce, which provoked a kind of double vision. Painters and poets were both attracted by the cwo realms which were mutually invisible. The Ambrosios Painter's cup {fig. t) shows life above and below the water line;

Flo. J Boy fishing: Attic red-figured cup, early fifth c;:t:ntury.

the boy knov.rs what he is doing, but cannot sec everything, like the octopus hiding under the rock; the octopus knows what is being done, and c ircumvents it. It is a dec.orative pjccore, without overtone<s, b ut suggests that communications between up and down are through experience and intelligence. The sea makes a double viev.rpoint easy. as in the famous simile of the dc-.ad suitors in the Od)'Ss~·, lying in blood and dust like fish hauled out oft he gray sea poured onto the sand. longing, no8loVTt~, for the waves of dte sahJ but the sun draws out their thumos ("xii.384f.) i the shape of the dead gives the fisherman's viewpoint; the feelings of being at home in the dark and vulnerable to the sun

Copynghted rr>-:ttenal

SEA MoNSTERS,

Fto.

~

MAGIC, ANO PoETRY

Pilot or poet at case on his pig-headed ship: Late Geometric drinking horn, Doiotia.

belong to the fish, as though man's world and the sea's world were in mirror image, sometimes inimical, sometimes sympathetically linked, like men and gods! Most pictures cannot do this; they stay on top, and observe surface effects of the moving waves or the wind in the sails; the focus is on the ship, the sailors, the pleasure or danger of traveling, summed up in the early terracotta sometimes thought of as the poet Hcsiod on his nervous journey from Aulis to ChaJ.kjs to sing in the funeral gatncs, a distance of some six hundred yards which itlspired in him remarkable advic·e on how evil it is for man to desire uncom· fortable sea journeys, vaVT.Ai'l< Svl"Mv S ( Works and Da.1s 618). Ships and sailors and sea battles along foreign coasts were favorite themes from tl~e eighth century on, and the pilots were especially commemorated in votive plaques for the-i r skill (fig. 3). The early dedication at Sounion-. near where Mcnelaos~ man Phrontis fell overboard with the steering rudder in his hands~ is a q uiet but vivid sketch, and evocative of the many contests celebrated for famous dead pilots of the past in coastal sanctuaries. Ph ron tis. Ponto..noos. Alkinoos, Noemon, son of Phronios (iv. 630); often the names denote the intelligence of the masters of sea voyages, in a profession where the unexpected was a daily happening.3 The effects of sudden storms and high waves on small wooden ships were frightening enough; at any time an unforeseen impact upon man's ambition might turn him turtle or drown h im. But there were further horrors, magnified by those sailors' tales which the sea-life offers time to embroider, about the creatures below who were the worse for being unseen,

Copyngilted rJai nal

SEA MoNsTERS, :MAotc, AND PoETRY

3 Steersman guiding armed marinC$; Proto-Attic votive plaque from Cape Sounion, c. 700. F10.

and who might frighten a man slipping off the steering oar to the point of losing all bodily eontrol-a theme not usually associated with dangers on dry land. Early poets like to describe the sea as a place where invisible creatures swarm. There arc many Greek words for the sea; one of the most common is pontos, which keeps some of its connotations as the bridge, the way home at

......

~····

Fro. 4 A frightened sailor falls overboard : Cypriote Bich.rotne IV, seventh century.

Copynghted matenal

SEA MONSTERS, MAGIC, AND POETRy

tjmes with god•s gra ce, bu t one fro m which you may unwittingly s tray since the track is not marked; each ship cuts its own path fresh, Sto.rrp1JuaoVaa Kl ),.&aGl}s- (Vl.44·3) ; numbers o f Persians were "ruined" there by the animals. Thcsc sounded more dangerous fo r not having specific names, j ust nameless "ktlto or dolphins or dogs whom Amphitrite breeds hl their thousands., (xi.96), and \vho perhaps gre w less tln eatcning a s marine biology dcvclopcc.l, d issecting and ch~ssifyiJ\g them . The Odysu;·, I'IOt yet dist inguishing much, d isplays fish at thei•· most dangel'ous, sea scavengel's like the birds a l\d dogs of the Iliad: "already the dogs and quick birds have pulled the skin off his bones,

Fro. 5 Sea serpent: Yarmoulh, 1897·

Copynghted fTlatenal

SEA MONSTERS, MAOIC, AND POETRY

or the fish have eaten him in the sea" (xiv.133); u either the fis h have eaten him in the sea or he is dessert for the animals and birds on dry land" (xxi v.291 ) ; or, like Eumaios' nurse, "they threw her out to be a plaything for the seals and fish , (xv.480). So today, if a corpse is found in Greek island waters, the better~ natured local cooks take lobster oR' the menu for a day, aware what it has been eating.& "Food fo r fishes, is worse than fo r birds and dogs, because it is harder to find the body again, and bury it properly. Poetic fish arc silent stealthy hunters, voiceless, QVQ~o'; Aischylos says "as voiceless as a tuna •• (fr. l67), registering surprise that such great creatures could be netted without the pov..•er to protest. Partly it is because they so look as if they were trying to speak, with potlws for a voice. Fish also eat their food raw, Wp..,
Days 277), b ut when they eat us we are frightened and offended. In the well-known La te Geometric shipwreck scene from Pithekoussai in the Bay of Naples, 6 two men are stilJ alive under the capsized ship, among twentyone fish who range from man-eaters to little specta tors. Two sailors have lost or arc losing their heads, and one his ;urns; two have lost their genitals, perhaps bitten off by the fish, or perhaps as a sign of low vitality and medro. These creatures nrc the S\varming inhabitants of the fish -way, '"OvT<>~> tx1Jv6w:; heedlC"ss, &.~8a~ like those Achmes imagines eating the boy Lykaon; Hyour mother wlll not lay you on your (funeral] bed or raise the goos, but Skamander

FIG. 6 Capsized ship and sailors swallowed by fish: Late Geometric krater from Pithekoussai.

S EA M oNSTERS, M ACIC, AND Poe TRY

will whirl you to the broad breast of the salt where a fish will flash up through the black ripple on che w:we co ea t your shining fa t" {XXI. 121). The c ruelty or the taunt lies pnrt.ly in t he loneliness of these dead , never joining the rest of the community through proper burial. As Skamander threatened Achilles, " I swear his strength , ..~11 not help him, or his beauty, or his Jo,·c-ly ,..·capons d eep und<'r thr mud, but the Greeks will not knoY~' where to look fot his bones to collect them; I'll build him a srma, of sand, he will not need a funeral mound" (XXJ.316f.). Personal fame and immortality would be blotted out, without the romulus Achilles won :u the mychical end of his s.tory, .. shining far out at sea," .,.Y.<an,. l K ,.&..ooo (XXi\·.83). The c-aters under the sea, and the sea's own power to swallow and conceal a marl compleu~ly, m:tdt it n:u·ural for the poetic and mythological phrase "gullet oftht salt (sea)/' ,.lyo i\oi'-TJA« MOs. Aoi'-TJ"« Bo.Mo~, to de\relop as a n analogy to the yawning enr-th, yoia x&vo•• The sea which welcomed and re·

turned lnnd gods like Dion)'SOS and Heplmistos (who both had ancient sea connections) could 3ISO take in tabu objects safely, at the close of particular

f1G .

7 l phigeneia beina sac:riftced at Auli.s (?),with waiting sn·monsten: Proto..Auic luatu, ~"Cnth century.

c

r

!86

SEA MoNSTERs,

MAmc,

AND PoETRY

sacrifices. In the Iliad, d uring Agamemnon's apology to Achilles, the sacrificial boar was thrown to the 6sh because it should not be eaten by man ... TaJthybios whirled it and threw it inco the great gullet of the gray sale, food for fish " (XIX.26i}· The carc,..'\ss carried the burden of Agamemnon's oath to Earth,

Sun, and the Ftn·ies tmder the earth, and the sea was the path of its dedicated travel ro the p<>wers below. Another sacrifice that ought not to have been eaten was l phigcncia, killed as a whtd-charm at Au lis. I n the upper frieze of the first Greek picture of her, in the seventh century, she is carried toward the sacrificial altar by men; in lhc lower frieze, as the sea grows calm, tiers of lion..headed fish or sca·dragons arc waiting and grinning.1 for the army to share the sacrifice would b e deep pollution, but the cathartic power of the sea is legendary, and, if that is what the painter intended, the guilt of human sacrifice might be washed cleaner with help from the sea monsters. The sea-dragon cooperates with the swallowing waters in the necessary work

•tG. 8 A Scylla or sea-pantheress chewing a polyp: Hellenistic chalcedony gem.

Copynghted matenal

SEA MoNSTERs, MAcrc, AND PoETRY

of death. Dragons with multiple heads, as on tlte Proto-Attic kratc r, arc not so common in Creek art as they would become in medieval fantasy, for the fe'"' sea-monsters of Greek myth arc meant to be killed by a single hero, in the eastern style; and such combat was d angerous enough without a complication of mouths. Scylla was always the many-headed favorite, t hrusting out of her cave six necks each with a terrible head, each mouth wi[h three rows of tee th, "full of blac k death " (XII.gof.). On t his the Od)'SSO' scholiast remarks, "more likely a dragon than a dog) for only d ragons have three rows of teeth;' revealing the classical scholar's passion for verifying the facts.8 The six-headed version was hard to draw; more often Scylla is a single-headed pregnant dog eating polyps.• The gt~llct of the salt is less kind than the hollows of the earth to the dead, who are more lost irt it. ~·lore Greek ccn.o taphs replace the bodjcs of drowned men than of soldiers lost on the battlefield, and early epigrams stress the su bsti~ tution of the stone, the .rema, for the man. "This is the .rmttJ of Amiadas; grinning Ares ruined him as he fOught by the ships .. . ••; ~'th is is the sema of Dein ias whom the shameless ponlfJs lost'> ; Neos ofSikinos got a mnema, but ' (the sea veiled me, myse.lf." 10 Tombstones ca rved with wrecked ships begin later, in late classical to Roman times, but stress the same loneliness as the epigrams do:

FJG. 9 Grave reJief of a man and his dog, evidently lost a t. sea and mourning: early fourth century.

Copyrighted matenal

!88

SEA l'vlor<STERS, MAOIC, AND PoETRY

the dead man by his ship on an empty shore, or the ship going on a lone. A man lost at sea m ight be less likely to join his fitmily in the underworld, unless the incomplete burial could be strengthened by ceremony and a stone image, a partly m
God bless them a ll who die at sea. if they must sleep in rcsdcss waves, God make them dream they arc ashore, with grass above their gra\'CS.

[Sara Orne Jcwen, The G/m,uster :VIotlter]

T he sea was full of domestic floe ks as well as predators, ju$'l as on land, s ince there were wild and tame couiurysides in iL The flocks are the seals of Pro teus;

ftG. ao (a) A sc..'\·soat arld (b) a sea-horse: green steatite gem from t he G rt.'Ck islands, seventh century.

f JG. 11 A sea·serpent: chalcedony gem from the Greek islands, seventh century.

or the ketea schooling around Poseidon's chariot wheels, or the winged goatfish of early island gems. O J' the sea-horses. 11 Their she pherds a re creatures likt Glaukos o'r A n tlu.!d on, the fisiH::I'fnan who betamc immortal by t:ating grass_, and who even drove land ca[tJC into rhe water to add to his sea cows i or Triton \\•ith h is obscure watery name. Triton most attracL'i the painters of the two edges of h is domain, eastern Greec.e a nd Etruria; he may be pain ted with human legs and a long fish·tai led bustlc 1 chasing sca·horscs in the water. or he m ay b e 6sh fro m the armpits do\vn, playing with fish 1 possibly catching them for dinner. These sea. hcrders were simpJe rustics; probably there is no significance to the vines the T ritons sometimes hold, but it was the fru it of the vine that caught the saddest Triton of them aU. the one Pausanias saw stuffed at Tanagta .l 2 He was the reverse ofGJaukos, an immortal tricked into death. Perhaps obstrep· crous, and like many immorta ls hard to control or filled with sudden passions, he used to steal cows and boats a nd a ttack women in the wate r, One night they

Copynghted r1atenal

SEA

MoNSTERS,

MAo1c, ANO

Pot:n
189

Fto. 12 A Triton swimming: Etruscan black..figured amphora, sixth century.

set a bowl of wine out for hirn which smelled so sweet he came on shore~ got drunk, and had his head chopped off. The bodr was exhibited as a local curiosity, "monstrously fat and bloated,'' a predecessor of Mr. Barnum's hideously attractive Fccjce !\fcrmaid, whose" mouth was wide open, revealing bestial teeth, and the whole expression of the face gave the vivid impression that the animal had died in extreme:: agony." The Tanagra Triton of course had no head, but a smaller one exhibited in Rome had also a "broad mou th and bestial teeth u; rhe siren-mermaid sighted off 'the Sandwich Islands in March, r 86g, was seen. when the sailors threw her oranges, " to have a magni· ficcnt range of yellowed tee th "; and the sea·monster or mermaid caught recently off Tanzania was also reported by the !\Hnistry of Information to have had good teeth as well as u one ear, a horn, a hump, a glowing eye, and a beard.'' 13 The Greeks were not alone in their vision of the biters of the sea, the ScyJias and the kct,a, "and if Amphitrite breeds anything worse." Grass made Glaukos immortal (it was his phatmok01t) but wine was poison tO Triton, as it was to mosc innocent half·wild creatures- the centaurs 1 the giant Polyphemos-as were the "ephemera] fruits,'' the grapes which weakened him, to the mo1tster Typhoeus when he was on the run from Zeus. 14 \'Vine was too civilized for mons[ers who usually drank clean water o r milk; Polyphemos thought it must "come from where necmr and ambrosia flow in abundance" (ix.359), as fatal to him as nectar to men. For men, conversely, wine often created an interior sea on which they floated, or dreamed they made fh.bulous voyages as the cups circled round, cups ofien painted with ships and dolphins, with sea-god or wine-jar at the center-love and hope flashed through the

Copynghted fTlatenal

190

SEA MoNSTERS, MAcic, AND PoETRY

drinkers' v.rits, dreams of monarchy and ugrain ships bringing the greatest wealth from Egyp t across the shining sea-bridge" (Bacchylides 20B. 14) ; "the tiring anxieties of men float out of the breast, and we all swim in a sea of golden wealth toward a cliffofdelusion" (Pindar 124S.5) . Ephmrrci, used to ephemeral fruits, need these delusions and visions, false prophecies of the future and voyages to happiness filled with sea·music which the best kind of dreams are made of, although drink may provoke eccentricities of behavior in the body that is left behind while the soul is dreaming. H• For the Greeks the sea of wine was a pharmaluJn for the anxieties of life, a nd focused their imag1nacions on the prophetic powers and songs of the sea-daimons. Almost all sea--creatures have the gift of prophecy. It may be minor and limited, but some who were born with the beginning of the world, older than the Olympian gods (H esiod, Thecgcny 13 1, 233), had vast aboriginal experience combined with knowledge of the intense constant changes of the sea under wind and sun, and their prophetic power had an authority which land oracles and newer gods could not rival. It was a knowledge of multiple possibilh.ies, of transformations, mutations, and grandeur because it was rlot limited to the simple affairs of men on land. Sometimes their personal vision is short : Triton o r Proteus are unable to forcte.ll that the mortal who pesters them will hold them in the end and force their knowledge out of them. Yet each mythological figure under the waves has a touch of the gift, from the bors riding on their

Flo. 13 The rider from the sea:

Corinthian votive plaque, sixth century.

Copyrighted material

SEA MONSTERS, MAGIC, AND P OETRY

ketos-monstcrs to the Old Man of the Sea, d>f

does not lie, who is true, who knows just and gentle thoughts (Hesiod, ThtogD'!J ~33)· 10

Sea-daimons control the paths of knowledge as they go along the liquid ways, the VypO. ~f~p~ KO.
FIG. 14 Snake-virgins in the Garden of God: Attic black-figured .;up. later sixth centut)'.

Copynghted r1atenal

SEA MoNSTERS, MAoiC, AND POETRY

the snake or dragon who guarded their garden, so these virgins, partlunoi, are themselves part snake, p.E,g01f0p800s ns lx,Sva {Herodotos lV ·9·') and we should imagine them singing to themselves a t work, Hke the clear-voiced Hesperids or the earth-born goddesses who guard Libya, x96vw• 8
--

F1o. 15 Herakles wrestling the Old Man of the Sea : Attic black-figured hydria,

:~i.xth

century.

The speakers ln the sea were someti1nes reluctant to give the desired information1 or show you how to get where mortals arc not supposed to go-so, the popular scene of Herakles wrestling with mutable Triton or the Old Man of the Sea, the HaHos Geron, to find the way to Geryon's island. HerakJes must sometimes use considerable force; one early sherd at least seems to show the O ld Man in distress from a bang on the nose, and black marks on his tace like bruis~. 10 By the fifth century it is more often accurate, kindly Nereus in human shape1 7( ~•l ijmO$ (Hesiod, Theogony 235), but he is still unwilling to tell all the secrets of the sea. When any sea·god speaks at last he is unerring in language, with an epos n<mtrtes, and his language is less clirected to the ways of the journey or to the future than it is to uncovering secrets of the past, toward which human curiosity is so strongly drawn.

"''l'•i>"l•

Copynghtc-c miltenal

SEA MoNSTERS,

MAmc,

AND PoETRY

193

The solitary prophet in the sea may avoid men or try metamorphosis to delude them. The sea-monster, who cannot change his shape, is also solitary by nature, but at moments in his life be may be passionately attracted to men or starved fot their company, which makes him a nuisance. Prophets and monsters personify two aspects of the sea, which for the Greeks was ever double-faced and changeable, sometimes the '"'aY to paradise and sometimes the jaws of death, but never predictable. Most sea-dragons of ancient times were male, or seemed so to sailors, and their masculine drive made them more dangerous when they

fell in love- which was generally with the daughter of a king, si.nce they have excelJent taste and a sense of self-respect. 1 9

The myth of the sea-dragon and the princess came to the Greeks from the East;, in the parallel ve.rsions ofHerakles and Hesione, Perseus and Andromeda. Greek story-tellers usually suppressed the genuine love-feelings of the monster and stressed his devouring powers, perhaps because in their own mythology the dangerous lovers of the sea are female, like Nereids and Sirens.20 Perhaps it is also Greek that the dragon attacks the hero, not the girl. "The dark-haired god [Poseidon) led the way to the heaped wall of holy Herakles, the high wall which the Trojans and Pallas Athena built so he might run up there and avoid the ketos whenever it shOuld rush him from the shore to the plain" (XX.144f.). Part of the original attraction of the story roust have been the wedding of incompatible bodies, the element of erotic shuddering which is often associated with European tales of the dragon's brid.,_the virgin raped beneath the waves, and drowned in the act of love. In classical art the usual Perseus scene sho"'rs Andromeda as the dragon's bride, bound to a rock and surrounded by Aithiopian servants bringing her bridal dowry to the shore, the wedding to be consummated by tooth; or, in illustrations of tragedy, she is tied to a wooden pillar in the proskenion of the theater at Athens. We do not know how the dragon was managed~trstage with roarings, perhaps, or with papicr-macM. In the tale of Hesione whom Herakles rescues from the amorous monster different aspects are emphasized-the hero is swallowed by the dragon and emerges again to life, or the hero and heroine combine to frighten the dragon off with arrows against wh.ich he cannot retaliate, or rocks which pound his head and tongue (fig. t6). When the dragon has been reduced to quiescence, Herakles draws his sword to cut the tongueoff(fig. 17). The Greeks may have regarded the dragon's tongue as a simple trophy, so the hero can prove to the king what he has done, since the whole creature would be too big to bring. Considering the magical properties of dragons' tongues in other lands, or drops of dragon blood, and their power to help you understand new languages, like the language of birds (Greek land-
Copyrighted material

J 0 iJ 0 ~r.,OQO Q ]

J

r.JDDDDOOt

flo. 16 Herakles and Hesione ba.tde the sca·momtcr at his rock: Late Corinthian colutnn·kr.uer from Italy, sixth century.

- - ·-- -·A

/

•

Fao. r7

Herakles cuts out the sea-monster's tongue : Attic black-figured c::up, sixth century.

a

FIG. x8 'fhc armed hero emerges from the sea-monster's belly : sard gem, early fifth century.

Frc. 19 Winged Gorgon as a lion-sea-monster: bronze shield blazon from Olympia, sixth century.

Copyngilted rJai nal

tg6

SEA MoNSTERS, lvf AGIC, AND POETRY

When female dragons were considered they were even more deadly, like Scy11a, or loving, like Lamia. The chief of the sea-queens, or sca-.dragonesses,

was the Gorgon, who is ofcen represented with a split snake-tail, or a great fish-tail. Her tongue is always conspicuous. The only mortal Gorgon of the three sisters, she was also the only one to become immortal in pCH:try; drops of

her magic blood could kill or cure. In a recess of Greek thought which is somehow just beyond analysis, she was not simply herself a source of death, but also the source of the music of the funeral song, the sound Athena wove from the Gorgon's snake-hair as she sank weary into the grief of death; and the music of the funeral gooJ is, we know, the only effective way to speak to the dead and

perhaps to raise them. This double aspect of destroying and healing has come, by curious but understandable by-ways, to be represented in Greece by the figure of the Gorgon Virgin ~1ary, the Panaghia Gorgon a, in a summation of

ancient fantasy: the queen saving the ships at sea, the birds Aying, the kelos swallowing the sailor who fell off the ponlos-bridge, and the mermaid singing while she holds a human head (or is it her own reflection in a mirror?).

F1o. 20 The Virgin Mary as the All· Holy Gorgon, riding a swallowing sea-mons.ter: nineteenth·century Greek icon.

Copynghted rT'-:ttenal

SEA Jv[oNSTERS, MAGIC, AND POETRY

197

The motif of the $tvered headt the speaking, oracula r or poetic head, is, like t he Gorgon's head o r the dragon's tongue, a n old fantasy, as though language and knowledge could survive death if anything could. There are several Greek h eads of this kind; usualJy it is the head of Orpheus, which floated down the river Hebros over the waves to Lcsbos, where it had an effect on Lesbian poetry, answered questions and knew the past. 22 The head of the murdered poet is

FIG. 21

Consulting the severed, oracular head of Orpheus: Attic red-figured hydria, mid-fifth century.

Unked with the dichotomies in the sea, the mute and the musical, the voiceless fish who long for muslc and, when Orpheus played, "jumped upright out of the dark-blue water with the lovely song" (Simonides 567 P.), set against the singing voices in and around the sea, which contributed an old mythic clement to Greek poetry. Aikman made a cur1ous phrase, "voices with teeth like sharks, " ~
Copynghted fTlatenal

rgS

SEA MoNSTERS,

~!Acre,

AND PoETRY

metallic tongue which could, like Pindar's, be sharpened on the shrill whetstone, hammered on the anvil oftrutb, launched like a bron-z e javelin (Ol)mpian VI.82, P)thian 1.86, .Nemean VII.?•), shivered or splintered like Sappho's, or capable of chasing and engraving a whole song, T0pwE 1rcioa.v ~~v (Aristo· phanes, Thmnaphoria~ousai !)86). The tongue was a sharp sword to wound, as in Sophokles' AitJ.t, y~<Woo cov «OTrtP.<""' (584); the mouth may be iron, hardened or softened in the tempering, the voice may be bronze, xo.A~<(~vos, Hke Stentor's, or Kerberos', or the voices of the women on the Shield of Herakles who stand on the city tower and shout their sharp bronze cry.24 We are used to sharp tongues, but the Greek conceit seems to go beyond our own, in words that are harsh whetted swords, Tpa.xE&s 'r'E xai u8wll£vovs Myous (Aischylos, Prometheus 3t4) . Poets equipped with such special weapons often think their work is real, and therefore important} with power to influence the listening world for good or bad. This i$ a natural, and historically true if partly childish, assumption of a talent to control minds, related to but separate from the tribal roles of the poetmagician or the shaman, enchanter, or wizard. The poet uses some of the same technical devices as the magic.ian, who frequently needs marked and simple rhymes and rhythms. The only Greek witch I ever met wrote to foxes in rhyming couplets on white papers she tied on trees with string. The power is in the word, or formula, or rhyme, which may lose its efficacy if changed. We do not know what Odysseus' family in the boar-hunt on Mount Parnassos sang over his thigh to stop the blood spu1•ting

( XlX.4~ 7);

they used

~paoidJ,

a sung

chant, perhaps nothing more elaborate than Cato the Elder's song for a broken limb, huaJ hanat huat, isla pista sista (De Re Rustica 161).•• Only a few examples of Greek poetic magic before 400 B.c. survive, yet obviously there must have been words to go with the whirling of the Geometric clay-wheel with iunx-birds bound on the rim fo r a love-charm. There are clear wizard phrases in Aischylos, particularly in the impressive raisings of the dead, Darius in The Persians or Agamemnon in the C!wephoroi, or the binding hymn of the Eumenides, V11-vos UafitOs or K~T~I>&t;uo'; and there may be diluted magic in children's rhymes, or in the fixed formulas of curse tablets, or some utterances of Empedokles, or even of Gorgia.r;, The poets share a large vocabulary with the magicians, and feel, like magicians, that the results can be for good or bad, like the drops of the Gorgon's b lood or the sword-tongue, depending on who is using it for what purposes. The shared language mostly centers on abide or epaoidi, on thtl:cis, OlNytw, on enchantment which may apparently be silent, as Poseidon silently enchanted the eyes of Alkathoos at Troy and bound his limbs in chains, (Jl).eas OuuE ~...a., ,{~c< 81 +aJSop.a yvta (XIIl-435); the pharmakon is used by both, and Y011'1'€ia, general magic or specific necromancy. Words often have a power for evil, in seduction or deception, as Aigisthos seduced K1)rtaimestra enchanting her with words (iii.264); Kalypso tried with Odysseus, in soft deceptive words

Copyrighted material

SEA M ONSTERS, MAGIC, AND POETRY

ftc.

22

199

A magic wheel with iunx-birds tied on, for love charms?:

Geometric, eight h century.

on an island charged with the scent of magic drugs and song (i.56, v.173); Achilles thought his mother had enchanted him with lies, ,PwSlaaw
#Ms civ>)p, ~ .p;~.,. oxOos

Po.A~v,

cipxaios- J3o.).ljv, Uh {xoiJ

Copyrighted material

200

SEA MoNSTERS, MAmc, AND PoETRY

invocations set in a sea of hard simple funeral rhythms and rhymes. 26 It worked all right, on stage; but of course between Homer and classical poetry there was a gradual, perhaps necessary, tendency to put such matters in professional hands, not unskilled relatives like the Homeric women of the house who reassured the dead with love in the goos, or untrained but intense Elektra's rhythmical songs and steps at Agamemnon's tomb, <11 ;J.&pa lp.fJa Ka:ra.KAaiovaa (Euripides, Elektra 113f.). In the oldest Greek texQ, the mourning soul relieved itself through grief in poetry. The song was personal, brief arid intimate. The goo.t was later elaborated i nto more ceremon.ial and antithetic forms; the responses were still sung by t he women most grieved, but a professional exarchts, leader of song and sacrifice, a poet, was called in and paid to "remember " the dead for the family. By late archaic times, the poem had, on occasion, been dissociated from the body, shifting to the third person or to the soul, as in our own funeral services, or as in Simonides' song for the dead at Thermopylai: "their tomb is an altar, theirs memory in place ofgooi, prc~.ise instead of pity" j handsome intellectual rhetoric, with direct communication gone. Simonides could contrast goos and memory, mnastis, but once they had been the same. As others came to sing your songs for you, so others began to raise your dead fo r you and speak to them on your behalf, speech filtered through an uncaring and talented third party. This growing professionalism of PSJ<Mgogeia corresponded with the anxiety of fifthcentury intellectual lost souls to retrieve them at reputable institutions, like the Soul-Finders ColJc:gc run by Sokratcs at the lake of the Shadow-Feet (Aristophanes, Birds 1554). By the fourth century, when Plato had the roughest things to say about magicians, enchanters, druggists, and poets., the new professionalism bad rebu_Ht and modernized, on the chthonic edges of Greece, the class of establishment later so mocked by Lucian, the Nckyomantcion where people with pothos fo r the dead could trAvel to consult their souls on a commercial basis. The one in Epeiros exploited all the traditional imagery- t he voyage, past the White Rock, the south cliff of Leukas, Leukara, up the river Acheron in a punt, through a lake with reeds to the fortresslike enclosure of Hades, where your mind was prepared for visions with cleansing and hymns and a poisonous diet of narcotic beans, lathyrism. After passing through underground passages {so much less impressive with the roofs off) v.rith prayer and song in the dark, you came to a lower room where, by an ingenious lifting device on cogs like theater machinery, with Bashes of tight and burning sulphur, the apparitions of the dead, phasmal4 or eitkla, were lifted up and wheeled across for your admiration, all at a high price. The excavator recreates the scene: HJn total darkness, with the scent and dark rcftcction of burning sulphur, the lido/a were made to appear and converse with the consultor of the oracle, whose senses and intellect were already subtly disordered by the d iet and psychological impressions which had been

Copyrighted material

SEA MONSTERS, MAGIC, AND PoETRY

201

arranged." 27 This kind of deceptive magic, the/xis and yQ'fl"da., still flourishes, of course to a milder degree, at some American cemeteries. The Nekyomanteion shared, however cheaply, in the powers ofsca·diviuities to reveal the past; the future was nor ilS province, and the present was filled with grief: the kingdom of the dead embodied the happier d ays gone by. This is also the burden of the most famous music or magic to come out of or across the sea, the Sirens' song, full of thelxiJ and certainly not harmless, but quite professional. The Sirens arc incarnate attractions for the poet, beguiling and dangerous. While most prophets and inhabitants o( the sea can be relied on, the Sirens cannot, unless you understand what they arc doing to you. One of

Fto. 23 A pair of Sirt:ns: Proto-Attlc bowl, seventh century. the tribe of west.ern island dwellers with extraordinary voices, they are not strictly of the sea, but on it, on their fiowety island Anthemoessa. Who the Sirens really are has a lways been a difficulty for lhe scientifically minded. It has, I think, been proved with some conclusiveness that they arc not mermaids and never were, neither bees, nor wasps, nor owls or ostriches, as in the passage of Isaiah, "and owls [or ostriches,
Copynghted fTlatenal

202

SEA MoNs·•·f.Rs, 1v1Ao•c, ANO PoeTRY

very difficult to distinguish from Harpies, although the Harpy is more likely to operate alone-, and Sirens in pairs; the Harpy is Jess musical, and likes dead boys more chan live ones. \>\' hen the Siren later grows webbed feet and the Harpy keeps her talons they split o ff more markedly from their shared Egyptian model, the ba. 'When men arc not passing their island, Sirens may be pictured as plump and sclf~dclighting, chucking each other under the chin; the Si_ren _is sometimes imrovel't, trying on a necklace or looking at herself in a mirror (fig. 24), patt of her attraction for pocts. 28 In an early picture which we hope is an illustration of Odysseus' adventure with the Sirens, since the hero is strapped to the mast (fig. ~5), there is a con· fluence of elements, perhaps Kirke's palace with phalloi mounted at the corner, perhaps Kirke herself behind the Sirens. The Sirens stand peacefully and

Ftc. 24 A Siren exarnines her face in a tnitror and holds her necklace: carnelian gem. :sixth cc:ntury.

I

\I

Fro. 25 Odysseus and his men sail past the Sirens• rock 1 assaulted by birds: Late Corinthian arybaHos, sixth century.

Copynghted r1atenal

SEA MONSTERS, MAGIC, AND POETRY

203

attractively a.ll the ship comes closer; they do nothing overtly dangerous, but simply watch their attendant birds, of whom one at least looks like a battlefield vulture at sea, who express the physical dangers accompanying the Sirens' song. \\'e know Sirens ate dangerous because Homer tells us so; in the flowets on their island lies "a big pile of bones of rotting men with the skin drawing smaller around them •• (x.ii.45), not eaten, apparently, but starved castaways. The "rotting men n derive from the same Greek pun as the rouing dragon Python at Delphi; che.~e are bones of a. .SpWv nv8op.ivwv, ''men who came to ask questions" (xii.46 ; H;•mn 1<1 AfMiw 363, 369). The kind of q uestion to which they are tempted tO hear the answer concerns knowledge of how wonderful they are, and this the Sireos promise. "Come along here, much-praised Odysseus, great glot)' of the Achaiaos . .. no one has ever gone past till he sailed on delighting and knowing more" (xii.r84f.). It is the perfect mixture of flattery and ternptation, like the best court-poetry, or a victory ode; the temptation is to knov.• your ultimate reputation before you are dead, conjuring up the quality of Odysseus' performance at Troy as an tidolotz, an imageof himselfto please his greedy soul, and in this sense the Sirens too are necromancers. But the eonsultor of this island Nekyomanteion is transgressing a basic law: dea th first, renown afterwards. To sail on plti~na eidos, knowing more than you did, is a delicate euphemism for death. T he famous Siren vase in London, so characteristicaUy fifth century in its addition of an extra Siren who commits suicide in a nose-dive because the first mortal has resisted her temptat.ion,29 has on the reverse the three figures often called Erotes flying over seas; but only one is labeled, the boy Himeros. He

FtG. 26 Erote~ fly over the waves with love--gifts: Attic red-figu red .stamnos, fifth ceotury.

Copynghted fTlatenal

SEA MoNSTERS, MAGIC, AND PoETRY

suggests the himeros of the poet, v.rith his song of desire, 1J.LEp0Euao.v cioc8~v (i.421, xviii.304), who knows how to sing songs that stir desire in mortals, 0.El8n S(So.W~ t~E· tpEp6EIIT'O. /3poTo'iccv (xvii.519); or the seeker after vision and knowledge, ip.Epo-; lxn JlE , , • 'T
more, and better, about themselves. A kind of paradise and immortality lies in the image or reputation held in the archives or the past by the singers overseas. The gods who escort the dead are shown also passing over the waves-Hermes traveling "over the wet and over the endless earth with a breath of wind," or Eros hyperponti6s. Some heroes get there on their own wing;s, some depend on poets for launching, like Thcognis' love, aol p.(v ty~ ~Tip' l&.u~ta., aVv oto' i1r' O.r.(lpoliO. 1r6vT<W r.wr4an (237). Some only travel there dead in the arms or a mothering goddess or ktr (chapter 5 fig. 28). One is aware, iit the period of change between the epic and the fifth century, of an increasing anxiety to transfer as many famous figures out of Hades as possible, and to install them on happy islands from which they may a ppear to passing sai lors. The old Iliad p icture of one gathering place for all dead men where all were treated alike seems a better expression of the archaic

Fro. 27

Musical Sirens on a pair of earth-heaped tombs in a grove: Attic black-figured lckythos, fifth cenlury.

Copyrighted material

SEA MoNsTERS, MAGic, ANt> PoeTRY

honor of Greece, but even in the Od;•tSQ! it was stressed that the dead heroes were anxious to know what people 1hought about them, and that lravelers from oveneas were the only ones who could reassure them about their rcputa .. tions. Odysseus functioned for dead Achilles and Agamemnon as the Sirens offered co function for him, to bring intdUgence like the ba-soul, and unlock the secret of one's position jn the eyes of the living. The poetry, music, and renown which the Sirens offered on dangerous conditions to those who were still alive were combined in Greek imagery with

their function of mourning for the dead. In la1e classical times they almost supplanted the 1radi1ional sphinx and Harpy and lion figures, because 1hey had the power of music, piping and fluting in a sorrowful way over children and

adults, as they gradually turned into the "Muses of the Undenvorld." 30 They

,

Flo. 28 T hetis and the mourning Nereids bring armor to Achilles: white-ground band on an Attic red-figured lckythos, later fifth century.

became the virgin, childless, professional singers of the funeral lament, with more controlled attitudes than the sorrowing Nereids who were the first mythical creatures to sing it at Troy, riding their dolphins as Thetis .,made rise up in them the desire for the funeral song,,, 8i
14). The sands were wet and the armor of the men was wet with tears, such the pothcs they felt. When Achilles died the Nereids came again with a huge supernatural cry over the sea, pot, 8~ E11:. ,OV1'ov OpWpEt 8t01TEal'l'f (x.xiv.48), and the Muses sang the lhreTWS in a voice so clear, you would not have seen a Greek who was not crying. As time passed, the Sirens in art and the poets in rca1 life took over the management of such personal fee1ing$, in songs which may have lost the sense of direct bereavement but which were constructed with the brilliant professional skill one expects of Greeks. Both, in their music, reassured the listener of his own

Copyrighted matenal

206

SEA MoNSTERS, MAGic, AND PoETRY

renown and raised images of the p~t for the present generation, so that it could marvel at and feel pothos for the dead. The poet was trained in necromancy and in myth, and, like a sea prophet, could respond to human curiosity about the past, releasing the dead to new actions and new conversations_, or creating a new past life for those \Vhose names and actions were forgotten. The countryside of Greece was filled with nameless and forgotten dead who, especially in the eighth and seventh centuries, achieved the rank oflocal hero. A hero wa> both a guardian of his land and a threat to living people who forgot to pay him respect. His worship was often sttange a nd local, and a testimony to a general Greek capacity to make myth out of bones. The hero of Corinth who

!<"to. 29 A nameless hero of Corinth, forty-five years old, with arthritis: ninth century.

Copynghted r1atenal

SEA MoNSTERS, MAGic, AND POETRY

207

rejoices in the modern name of Hero 72-4 is a grand example of the impulse to honor the dead and the grave of the unknown soldier. A man of about forty-five years, tall and broad-shouldered, witb. bad teeth, marked degenerative osteoarthritis, a narrow flat-sided brain case and a fractured right hand, he died in the Protogeometric period when few records were kept. His existence was rediscovered in the Early Corinthian period, at the end of the seventh century, when his fu_neral gifts were removed from under his feet. Attitudes changed in Middle Corinthian, when an open-air temcnos was built around his and other graves; from Late Corinthian it became fashionable to bring him presents from time to time- such things as a kratcr with a picture of Achilles in battle-and this habit of respect and gifts lasted until the sack of Corinth in 146 B.c. 31 His body was probably found by accident, and perhaps people concluded from his antiquity, his size, and his broken sword-hand that he was one of the heroes of old with whom they wanted to continue in communication. Pausanias the traveler takes us to hundreds of Greek villages and towns with similar little precincts of local heroes, and Greek hi>tory is filled with accounts of towns which discovered, stole, bought, and displayed reverend bones of the past, bones that conferred peculiar virtues on their burial places. Some remained nameless, simply The Hero; others acquired names from the mythical past, particularly the figures of the Trojan War. Thebes, for example, could be proud not only of the grave of Semele mother of Dionysos, but also Ka!nthos son of Ocean, Phokos grandson ofSisypbos, Amphion and Zethos the magical musician and architect, Tydeus who nearly did not die., the children of Niobe, the children ofHeraklcs, the children ofOidipous, the daughters of Antipoinos, the prophet Teircsias, and Hektor son of Priam who was brought specially from Troy for Thebes' protection. Such shrines all through the country were visible reminders to the Greeks that the past was longer than their knowledge of it, and that the bones of older generations J;terally supported all their under· takings. It was the work of poets, story-tellers and artists to release these people from the isolated kingdom of the dead into the light again for the use and pleasure of the living. The poet and the artist who raise the dead cannot be quite trusted, perhaps; they have filled the past with invention and inserted the ardent fictions of their intellect into the ranks of the dead; but we arc often drawn even more strongly to these than to any real bony ancestor. T he best part of dying, Sokratcs thought, would be "to get down there and question the man who led the great army to Troy, or Odysseus, or Sisyphos, or ten thousand othe.l'$ one could name, men and women" (Apology 4t ) ; true and false, they are waiting for us. The dead are our biggest resource, kept alive by our curiosity and potlws, filling our books and paintings and universities and minds. They know what we want to know and cannot discover without them; they made us what we arc today and

Copyrighted material

F1c. 30 The empty chair; gone but not forgotten: nineteenth..century tombstone.

Copynghted matenal

SEA MoNSTERS,

MAmc,

AND PoETRY

209

Flo. 31 The poet mwing·on the pa
we hope to learn if they arc satisfied. In the meantime we keep a place for them, a chair and a book, as a memorial in sun and rain to evoke the past and make

solemn the longing of the living for the one we cannot see now. So the Greek poet lies waiting-on his deathbed? or musing until he is ready to take down his instrument and play again ?- to raise the classical dead and install them once more at the heart of life.

Copy nghteo r 1tenal

C..opynghted material

NOTES The /liu is refer=! to in roman upper case (l.o), the Odpst; in lower c:a>c: (i.o). CHAPTER I CREATURES OF TH£ DAY' THE STUPID DEAD

lrUh in the future tire, which lw pl"(lrn'\pted requesu for a bo1tlc of whilk)• in the coffin, orthe i.nclwJon or a pc:t Cllt or canary; it is common to have tile: Arnerican ftAg pasted

Od.fueJ xii.n, "you have oome living out rro.n under Hades' house twice-dead

inside the l.id (,u::lng the dead, or a phOtO• graph of tb c spoUKi money may be carried

when othc::r men die M Ce"; Alkaiai 110 P., 73 D. (rc1tored); ·nteogni.s j02f. The m.ual list of underworld n.dventuren includes Sisy-

for the: joumey, and even fixat.ivc: for false teeth iJ' heaven . .;. Epigrllm XII L3- 4, R. Pfeinh, Calli· -hus ( ' 949)· 6. lt Keml curiws that du description or

1.

phot, Ody..•umt, Herald cs; later Orpheus, DionysoaJ Thttfl\U, Pdrithoos; see Camchj. ni~. "Katabu.is.'' HE X.q3$9; Rohde, R!tM I ( 18g5) 6oof., l'fJ'A• 3•f.; Biblicg.-aphy p. ~Gr. 1"h< IOtt •• vialiJ to the d~" in the epic poems Milf1't'J and ./'!NUll pcoba.bly c»nuintd atandatd panoramas ol beautiful or bloody gbottJ, u rcftCC1cd in Polypot05' underworld painting at Delphi, Pa..anias x..a-,. A \-cn:ion ol d\ts k:uure ~'&S given to tbc: Oepartmrnc of C•uPa at Smith Cotlq;e i.n '97S· t . E.g. Jic:rakkitos B 88 O..K; PlatO, PAaido 71d; LuciAn, "Menippus and Tantalut," 1>1'•/ogw.J fltlu D1ai 7 oand the rebtion

of lifo-in-death to renility a.od bunting c ull,

in Burkert, NN
Pyriphlc:gcthon ~rnd Kokytos Rowing into Ad1c.-ou a t a tpc:c-ial rock, in the Oif1m.J (Jt. 513-l5) has so liule efTec.t on Crttk fruuasy ot the underworld, at leaat bd'ore Aisehylos; is it JM)U.iblc that d~ linn ha~ b«n rwojcctcd into the ()9JI(1tc:tt, in the: late .sixth or early fif\h cmtury? 1be tWO ~sg Nek)-iai do not name thnc ri\·en. snd Hmod knows only 51)'« ( 71. 383, 776. u Hoonn in the r'e~m of the dead (Sap1Jho 97. 11 0., 95 P. ; Alka.iOJ 73 O.!t, 8. g8A P.) a.nd the n~t t0 make the a.llutioll i.t Aist.h)'lot, 11'0v O'Op.¢t Kw~te.ttdv 1'f K O(owtw~J'fu•u•

1

)IX(PQUOlovr j()x(Jous lou<«

.,Qxa,

Atam.wl1lllll 116o- 1. In most ancient lmagininga of dc:ath there i.s water to emu, but our lmp•'CM:ion of the great llAuled rivel'l bounding Oreek Hades is based on less JUbsULnli.al eArly. pre.(iftb-«ntut)' evidwc.c. than J thousht lU a child. Sec RE l.118; Vl.1791i Rokde, Ps)tM ~t4. Pindar. t.oo, knowa or names only Acheron (Pyllu'Qtl Xl.~n , NmttM I V.8$, fr. I!JI.!J) and Styx (PIIiM IO. tof), like his p«:dec::e:AOI"'J. :a-part (rom the na..rnc.Jas daJ.IICIS offr, I lf.C.'l, a.n
211

p

hted mate a

212

NOTES TO PAGES 1-41

CharOJ ( 18g8), with emphasis on the water barrier between the living :md the dead in

painting of th e Undern'Of'ld at Delphi (X.:t6.

a rude tx()mi.J or short cloak; he ma y $0metimeJ CQJT)' a &word, as though to oompd the reluctant dead or bar reverse powage tO Othcrl, a. continuation of th e old Ody$.11)' joke (xi.82, 231) . What shape his passengers were in when be tOOk them, is not a metaph)·sical but a pai.nter's problem; they are life.-sized and livdr-looking, not the winged fJS)'Ghai, who would not need him. Lucian, among others, jests that the boa t leab from the weight or the dead, weight cau~~ed by sins and worldl y cares which Lbe soul must still di.scard (Ciutrmt and lfmrt~s, Dialogl14s ~ 1~ D1ttd 14 [342), ~ [36•3f.]}. "Cbarol)'J obol" flnot ap-pea.rs as a ·co'noeit during the Pdoponncs.ian· Vv'ill'$ (Aristophanes, FroBS 140, '270, see also Birds 503), in relation to the Jiflbdia oC the Dckclcian War, Wrucr, Chor()n a of.; the obol appears in the mouths the dead occasionally in Ute fourth century, more freq uently in Hellenistic times when th e whole fairly n:c;ent ttadition bad begun to acquire a pa.tina of age; K·B

2.) :

16J. 166, 2 t

comparative mythology, ships of the dead and the island of t·he

dc;~.d;

abo G. K rUg<:r,

"Charon und Thanatos," Arc.hZtit 25 (1867); A. Furtwftngler, "Charon," ArchjRt18 {190$) 191 _; Roscher 88.4 { R~er) o R. Lullies, "Charon," AA 1944-45 (1949) 2~; G. van Hoorn, "Charon, Ch.aro, Kerlx:I"'$," Ntdn· knds K1mSihistorisdl Joarb«k 5 (1951) 141f. ; F. Brommer, Mtu!riJn Milteibmgm 10 (tg6g)

rssf., Anh. 3; L. M~

3 l5f.; J. C .

Radermacher, Jtn~tiiJ gof., La~onJ i\.fodMn Cruk Frtlk-

/Qrt anti Andmt Gruk IUHgimt (1910) g8f. For

pc:ll\Sible connections with Egypt, see chapter 2 note ~7· II b.as not y~t lx:en &hown t h.at Ch:m)n played any significant role in Greek deat h imagery until after the Pcnian Wars. Charon's

appearance in the epic Miny.as, from which Pauaanias quotes when looking at Pol)'gootos'

btf Jiroc .,(4 ~;, )'.M.~" b&q& GPf.UI"

is probably a fiftb-«ntury conception, to judge from the poem'$ empiUJi:s on Thei eus and Pcirilh005, a classical not ao archaic int«ddt. Sec G. K inkel, Epf((m,mr Graa<m~m FraJ.mntla (1877) 21$ 1 C. H uxley, Cru.k £pie PC
"Charon the carpenter'-' in Arcbilochos 19 (\Vest) may yd prove to derive· from too great of te:(t in Aristotle, RJw~ Ill p. 14t8b23, cons;idc.ring t hat Charon's boat in Polyg.\OtOS' painting carries Al'chiiQchos' grandfath er Tellis; see M. Robertson, A HistiJry of Grtek Art (t9i5) 266f. After the Polygnotan painting Charon appears more or los familiuly in tragedy, comedy, and on white-ground funcnl lekytboi, whose. relations to Polygnotos are disc:LLued in E . Pottier, Us lk)IM• b/.lmd aJiiqt.ILs (1883) 111 , 119 and Fai_rb;\ nJr.::~, AWL II, 218L C haron is shown :u a traveler and worker, in a rustic, often hairy pUt», the britnlcu hat natural for sailors, and conden.~tion

or

I.

8. C . Robt'rt> Die Ntlc)ia des Polygnol ( 18g3); M. Robertson, A Histof7 qf Gr«.k Art (1975)

o66f. 9· A eli-an, 0" AniJrudJ V ·49; only men bury but most anim;~.l$ mourn; see Bur-kert.. HN 29,

6or.

10. Abehyl~, f'rrn~Ktlwus BtJWld 246-50, (ordmowledge of death a di11e:ue requiring a plrarm4kon_: see E. R. Dodds, Plato, Gorgias ( 1 9~9) on 523 a tf. 11. Dieterich, .Ntkyia 2 ( 1913} 71f. 12. Ps:J
signify fainting (V.6g6, XXll.466, XXIV. 348) as well as death; pS)'e.ht stMds for ''life'' in phr.uct for h.ul\rding life. 1X.j2'2: .JmxiJv napapa».&pcfi(X; ill, 74: "'vxds napOijUVOl; xxii.245: n~p{ .,~ .p·uxlwv ipdxoV1'o. T hi.s i.s extended to ''life-with·honor" among the dead, Aise.bylos, F-um. 114. The tradition and oonvemionality of its fonnulaie u~ is sug· gested by the frequent coupling of Plflhe with mtnos (esp«iall y for charioteers, M~ efrvxrJ n plvor T( v.~g6, Vlll. l23, 3 15}j with 4tit.m (Sarpcdon, XVI.453> cf. V.68s; Polyphernos, ix •.;23); with tlr.umo1 (XI.334; xxi.•.;:-5, 170) . In ordinary practice the psy<.he is the vi:sible part the dead, small enough to escape from limbs (XVI.8s6, Xll.g61), or a wound (XIV.

or

Copyrighted material

NOTES TO PAGES 1-41 ,518); stick on the spear (XVI ·SO.); se\~ cl:mpter 3 p. g8}; settle in the neck (XXH.325) ; ilow out on t he brt::uh (1/tvxQ.Y &.JT
XIIJ. too)j floats in the arms of the sea (Archilochos 23 D.}. lr\ eireumstance\ agree· able to the poc:t it can weep ( XVI.8s7~ XXII. 363) and feet sclt~pity. In the Otf)'SJt)' Nekyia,

where any internal " contra.dic.tioru" seem principally .m otivated by the poet's stagecraft (below p. 29) it <.:<'-" IJlovc.: it&elr tO drink blood, or display anger (by gesture and fac.-ial cxprrssion ? xi.!)«), or recognition {xi.3go) . 'Inc visitor to the underworld sees the psych1, but it is the person w ho speab. 1''hi.\ differs from the crowd Kale$ with i'6vE(«) p.vpta vt~tpWv who make frightening noiso (xi6g2), tbou.gh psychai in groupe! can also be noisy (xi.42). The shift from ~Itt to tiddM to JUJ:rq~ is ;~ m.attter of convenience, like th e vi.sion of bodit'$ on the souls of tlu:: d e:ad 1 or warriot'S with wounds and bloody a rmor (xi. 39f.) . When aJU.)the needs to be big it may be:., like PaLn:>klO$'; when it need$ co be small it will be (XXIII.6j{.). In short1 the.: PSJ"h~ ma)' be ral mough to be noticed when it is no longer t here (Dodds, lrraticmal 15f., n. 95), but it must be handled as a poecicoonveniencc, flexible in size, behavior and significance. On the subject in general sec Rohde, PS)th6 28f.; Roscher 320 1 (Waser) _; RE VI A. t8 13, XXJJI.t434; Bruck, T()tenkil ruuJ Stdgeriit; Bickel, Honwriuhe Sttln.gla~; Wilamowitz, Claubt l, 370; Dodd$, lrratiOflal 135f. ; T . Z ieli_nski, l.a Cuurt h l'Oututombe ( Milangu Bitk.;: Jl, 1934) t o-.uf.; R. Oni:m:;, The OrigUu ()/ Euroj>tan Thqught (1951) 99, 2!H: D. Furley, BIGS 3 ( 19~6) t; H. Sichtc-rmann, "Die FfUgeJ der Psyche," Opuseultt :; (St«.klrolm StuditJ in CI8SJkal Anli1}11i!)· ( 1g68}) 49f.; J · Warden, Pll(Nrlix 25 ( 197 1} 95r.; J. ltcdfield, Nature and CuUurt in tM lliarl ( 1975) 174f.; H. Ingenkap, ~ A1 118 ( 1975} 148; and the Bibliography p . !:t6!). 13. The metaphor 11 !hade" or "shadow' ' in the unden,,orld, or or ghosts, implit'S a !ource of light which is in some sense the colored rub:Uantial body. Egyptians dJ'C'\'' ahade--fi.guf'd of t he dead (e .g. in the Am-Ouat Book on the walli of the tomb of Tuthmosis Jll1 Theha 31, W. Fonn:.m :ll'ld H. Kischkt:-witz, £0PJiqn Drawbtgs [1972] pl. 12 } as an initial sketch not )'Ct " (;Qiored a.live"; shadow-drawing is the negative attached to

213

1he Jh·ing person, tr3vding w itl.IOUt willpower on the ground. Slcia has IC'SS substance t han tidtWm. ·nu: ~idolon may be a winged image, like t he Pvrlre, and ~ so drawn regula rly iu la ic archa ic times, in the tomb pictures of the LeagrO$ group (chapter 3 fig . 27) but may 105c its wingi in the fifth cent.\11')' (cl:mpter 1 6gl. 24-, 2,5); it can leap, ge'$ticulate, expre~

pleasure. S.appho's disliked poete:;.s travels winged among the dark dead (58 D.) in an unclear form; the distinctions begin to blur early, a nd are wcll confounded by tlte l:ue fifth e<:ntury in works like Euripide$' HikoiH, where Ac::hiiiC$ appc~n unwioged over his tomb (37, tlo), but dream, plrasma or ojJJi~ have black wings {7 1, 704-5); Sopbokll':l fr. 12: O.vOpt.~mOs fen, 11V(VI-'a Kai O"KtO. ,.w~'O"• o:tSw.\ov IDwr. The principal Pl\8.1..'18<:5 a.re Od. :<.49~, :c.i.zo7, !1:22; Pi.ndar l)·thion 8, 95i Sophoklc:s Aias t 2!), Atllig.D~ 1 t 70, Philoku:u 946, 33 1· 65g.6, 945; .1\ischyloi Promtlluw B&~mJ 448; fr. Trag. ad esp. N 2 95· h may be th at for H omer the d~:ad lack intelligence because t hey lack color (blood}, Ill.278, XXIII. 72, :ti,.j?6. xx"iv .1 4-- In general, ltobde, Ps;"~ 7; L. Malten, "Das Pferd im T otenglauben,u ]dl 'l9 ( 19t4) li9f. ; M . P. Nilsson, " l m.mortality of t he Soul in Greek Religion,"

rrs.

Op&J Ill, 40; Dodds, lrra/Wrud JO'lf. ; J. H undt, Dlr Traumglaube hei Homer ( 1935}; G.

BjOrd :, Er(Vf()J +4 { 19-r()) 309; E. Vermeule,

JHS6; ( 1965) 1f(l,.,.d BMFA 63 ( 1 96~) 3~. ; K. Stahler, Grab unJ Psychttks Palrok/()s ( rg67); H . Schaefer, "Das Eidolon des Leonida:s.'' Chariii.J ( Fcsuchr-ift E. Langlotz (1957]) 223; A. L t:s.k)', Gnamo" 22 ( 195-0} 99, and '27 (1955)

483 ; P. Arias, u Morte di un Eroe," ArthCioss 21 ( 196g) 1gof. 14. Dr. Nils-O iofj acobson, Life 4ftn- Death (Boston CloiH, 19 De«mlx.r 19; 2).

15. Catalogw ojlhe Norbnt SthirmJUI Colltclirm (ed. 0. W. M"""ee11>) ( 1974) "•· 63; fo r &imilar gestures on several vases, W. Reizler, W8iu;:nmdige AJiiJtM UJ.y tkt1 ( 1914-}, pl. 44, Athens 1926; Fairbanks., AWL I pl. XIVa, 1144·· 62. 16s; bu' the mlmic:ry ol'che boy by his own .soul is unusual. 16. T he iconography of Geometric funer.tl &c:enes has been nudied long and from many angles; bibliographies in K -8 346- ,51 (to 1970), and Andron.ik011, Totmkult 43f. (to 1g67). Among otbeN sc:e W. Zschietunann, "Die O;\.l"ltelh.m8en dt:r Pmrh~is in der

griecbisthen Kunst," AM 53

( 1 ~8)

17f. ; G .

Copyrighted material

NOTES TO PAGES 1-41 Ahlb
AbtndiMd 10 (rg61) j; D. Ohly, Gri/Utische Goldbltdu ( 1953) 70; f'. Poulsen, Dit Dip)Wtt· gri«r und die DipyltJJWO.Stn ( 1905) ; B. Schweit· zcr, Crttk CMmmie Art ( 1971) 37f.; R. TOlle, AA ( 1g63) ~to; R. YOUJlg, Lat6 Cttmsttrit CMtrtJ, Hupnia SuppkiNill II (1939); a.nd Bibliography p. 26-J . l ?· T he valun and styles of mourning are excellently discussed in both Reiner, T Oltn klage, and Alc.xiou, Ln.mmt; for continuity of tradition, see also B. Schmidt, " Totengebr!hu:he tand Gr.iberktahtl$ irn hcutigen Gricchen1aod,'' Ard!fRtl 24 {1926) 281f. 18. See the Bibliography p. '2~ 1 with Rohde, PJ,Y28} 17C; 0. Ahlberg, PtQthtsis and Ekplthra ( 1973}. rg. Or\ ctnotaph, Jt.tno, and kolos(s)os, 5« A. W. l'trs.son~ AA (1936) 166 and RQJal TombJ ctl Dendra (1931) Sof.j P. Jacohy1 «Pa.tTiO$ Nomos,'-' ]HS 64 ( 1944} 37f. ; C . Pic;•rd, Rev Phil ( 1933) 343i T . Zieliruki, & 30 ( 19'li) 37f.; the imtruC1ions at Kyf<'ne for replacing a de~ $tu.nger with a kolos(•)os, F. Sokolo\\'3.ki, l_.u WU Ja"l"~ Ju tills gmquu, Suppllrnmt ( 19&2), No. 1 1 s . 189, line >29f.; H . Jeanmaire, REG 54 ( •945) 66f. ;J. S<.n·a;,, BCH£4 ( •96•) 112t.; and W. R. lhlliday, ''Cenotaphs and Sacred Localities," BSA t7 ( tg1o-a •) 18:l; E. f raenkel, Atsrh_ylUJ, ilgQ1T'.t'l1fllhn ( 1g6::) on verse 416;].-P. Vernant, "Figuration de l'invi:$ible ct categoric piychologiquc. du double: Ic.: eolOSllos," M;•tlte er Pm.sit, ( 196'!)} >25 1f.; E. Bcnven.iste, "Le sens du mot Ko)\ooo-0-s c.t les nOI)l$ gt«* de Ia statue," 8/FAO {1930} 447; Rohde, Ps;'(}.e 46 n. 'l!); K-8 257f.; on thecmotaph ofNikokreon at Enkomi, C)'prus, with day heads of t he dead S\lbstituted for them, on poles, V. Karageorghl.$, Salamit (19~) eh. 4; cf. Demosthenes XXI. 512. 1<1. Wil amowit~,Sapp/14 wrd S imonidu(t913) 272 and Glmdlf II I, 79· I am indebted to E. Lowry for a study of the subject. 8V[)O'K6..-r€S

:rl:r-rwa(. is t he beginning of the prCXt$$1 1.2-t-3· T he dead Achaiaos of Vll.3d :trc: sti.ll in proce~, but their blood is in the river ::utd their souls in Hades, dellcri ptive dl'ama not metaphysics. Sec abo V I.7 1, X.343• XXfl.s'l, 161. The image of Achilles• team standing like 01. grave-stdc ( XVI1 .435) spccifi~ th e hlmhos of a man or woman 'TC0~tTf6>os. stabilized, like the e<>mpleted d ead in the underworld, l'£K ~'W.,K«1"«1"ffh•Yjdnwv (x. 530, :.' ?tvOpWnwv ( XIV.361) . €1J.,fo often applies to winged creatures ( II·-t59, birdsJ 469, flies) , th ough pigs may c.rowd so (xiv.73), and the dead may be M$Umed to throng and fhJttCt without being

\•linged. '22. In m)'th such connections often center around boiled children and resurrections or failed aucmpts at immonalit)', as TantalOJ son of TI\)'C'I-ta. wa:. buric:d h• a bronze; bowl at Corimh, Pau:~al'l i as 11.2>2.1. On bn::>r~.xc; cauldrons as burial urm at Ere1ria1 K. Schefold, AntK 9 ( 19{)6) t2of., with paraJJels; •hcse are of the same form as ...ic•ors• tripods at (funeral) games; see also Ktramrikos V . 1.

20..)f.

23·

"""U... w4oOfll(na• xl{A'I$' (.,j q.8,1W" rn.f.\4,~

[Euripido, .1/ku#s g8f.]

cr.

Ari:stoph~u·H~.

Ekkluin-l:h'IJJOi

TOJOf. In

gener:\11 S1engcl, KulrwiJitnriimrr 144; Eitrc:m, Opfmitul 76, 10~; fl.•t . Ninck, Die B4dtuftm8 dt.s Wasters im Kultund l.tkn tkr Al~n (Philo-logul Sup. 14 ( 1921]} : L. t\·loulincr. l.e Pur et l'lmjnndtnU Ia Pmslt cft1 Cuu ( 19.)2) ]6(.; R. G inouvC:s, BQ/t.mtutikt: R.khnchls sur It Bairt rlans l'antiquiti Gru.que ( 1967} 239f. Chtmip.. Q evidently a Bronz.c Age: word, rccordc.:d in Linear D texts a t Knossos, Ws 8+97 lce-m'·va.. with a-Jo-mi-to the tub. and at Mycenae, Wt 503 ke-ni·Vt"(l>.u:t,· cf. XXlV.Jo•h i.3o6. It. is not restricted to sacr-ifice and purilkation. There docs not seem to be aoy fear of pollution aft
Copyrighted material

Non:s TO PAGES of lnftc:tion w rni:uau from normla! ckath is rare i.n Creek Htcratu.re; mi.uma comes rather (rom ..in (H tsiod WD ~38r.) and murder ( Aj•cl~)'l<* Ag. 1028, 1645, Sophokln OTg·7, ~~ 1); ac:c Rohde, PJ>'C.Itl 175 n. 17G. ~ • • I<'or chin straps see Jl. Woltc:n, u Ein gritthi11chc:r Hestattungsbrauch ," Alrl ~~ {1896) 367; Andr't ul.ikos, To~kult 411 D. Ohly, Cri«hi.Ju Co/Jb~H.i>e {1953) ~. 2~. J;a.cobstbal, .. The l'\c:kyia Kracer in ~tw York/" Mtl:rtlfdiJtnt Af~&Jitlt StWin s {1934-,6) oo;f.; P . Fricdl>nder, AA {1!)3}) ..,_

r.

a.

For- &imilar

in f.cypt. tbe l..c\..nt and the Mycc:aaean world, ehaptcr., notes 4'2, ~6. 27. J. Kakridis, HOtftl'fie RmMrluJ (•9--19) 65r. See also Reiner, To~tk.lap, 2of. j Alexiou, Lnnwnl ••H G. Pecenmann, "'Die monologlJchc: 'J'otenklage dcr Jlias," R.hM 116 gestUTtS

{•u7sl sr.

26. Alexiou, LAmou, pas.'tim;J. M~avrogor

da1oJ .. Modern Greek Fotk·Songa or the ~ad," ]HS 75 ( •935) ,..,, Reiner, Tou.N.I.,t 20 n. ss., "'-d.l describes this as "Selb&tbckh.· guns ... du primiti"~ £gomnus dc.r Totcn~ kla(<...• " The blad<·ficui'Cd ,~oonnbko. ol Mynhine from the K~~- ( lnv. 6g1) ri\"0 the simp1c ·words o.poco Buyo, teen by A. Rumpf' as o~o.. W B.rya.(up); K. KObler, AA (193~) 29!) r,g. 24; R. Lullia, ]dl6oJ6o {1946- .7). pl. ' 3-44· 29. Alexiou, Lamtlll 127; N. 0. J,olite~, •E~e).oy(ll dml l'a TpuyoUSu:t ~u ' E.V''1"' "'o0 AaoO ( •9•)) og8. for anoth er light on the lctnt, a mong many tha1 could be can . A. L. Strong, 17u Root/ to tlt.t Gr'.) PtJmir ( 1930), on the lltmt:nlJ of the Mo.Jcm Kirghiz of 1he Ahai valley: F'r'Oift •ithin t1w yw-c t'(W bad waDi... ihnll and conlin~H)l8'.

and )""n ,.ith 50t'l"'tthing dram~~dc.tll)·

uti6ci.al _u, iu toot. SO\lndinc: thuf in tbr cbrtncv, .Cctr th'" hc)t..·b ol d\C dop from tht. lonely yufl und~tr a norm, it w.u indescribably ttric. . . . tWO wom'"n knch facing the waJI; tbdr ~'Oicn tOM! and ft:l l In m.ujJlUOtl.t shrieb or lamc-nc, •• • the w:.U ux 1ulre.J by eu~wn~ (Qr 1lw: d~1111 h tJf~t. ll
1- 41

\\"ben a man dkd with "'' ~ bad Gut the: funeral ancJ :a(h';r teYCtl day. they wave a d.inn.er 0 and ap.i.n after- Corey dli.)'S. M1cr a. year they gave a ''el')' big fe:ut ca.llcd 1.he Nil, at which many •beep :t.od eveo hone. were killed. Afu:r the a.s1t the wife cou ld marry ~ I n, Ou t fur t he An t year she must llit lll"'•a>" at the- Ude of th11 yu rt, w.Uing and "-
[os&-;gj

30· Characteristic, in their reference lO the acl( and the mournCT'J pain and privation, an: extracts from apparently atandud cries as in Euripides Sup;limtt.J 91~Q4: l.i; 'li~Ofl, 3~"'""XIf a' rrtiPO ~ i~>tyHoiia'

l"Yf"#t/Jti", ~~ ~· ~G POi

~~tiLl 1~'-•l•tixtto-- diMo,, C,.W Oi 'Yf'IPCI/luootOII o\w l,r'l, 'IC'~Do' Q .,w.l'fl. ""tk-.

11W "A16os Tciv ,·"o"

J" W&rcw

A funcbmmt
<J09u,.,.,p.

•a.,\cudr rttJp9tJp&s,

missi.ng the point u we ati.ll do in awe of "profcssionals.•• 3 1. Rd:ner, Totmklrw1 toIT. and 27-28 for

a lin of incantatory exprc:uJons in tr agedy; !ICC abo

w. Burker1, .. rM]s " RAM 105 ( 1g62)

36: J. d e RomUly, MQ~ir and Rhttoric in Anciml Gmtt (197;) •3· 31. Cf. Bickel, Stt/.tntlt:ub~

32. R.

22;

Rohd~, PIJdw 14-!

nne,

A.•

1g8.

{•963) 66> 6g.

oo: J.

Boanlman, ]HS 86 {og66) of. 33· The Vari {An>&>TOUI) <=, G. Oikonomos, P. Stavropouk». AA (1937) , t'l!J; £. Vand<rpOOI, .9A 6o {1937) 281, pl. 1!4;

Hamp<, C•.U.f..d {o!)lio) 73, fog. 46: d. liirameihn Vl. 1, 94, VT.2, 36o, 393; And:ronilc.os, ifllatkult ~ ~ pl. 4A; for the bird, \ Vdckcr, &tUmwxcl ~tm. ll.llll , vn llu: 801:11011

plaque, j. Board tnnn, BSA 50 (1935) 59 uo. 5· 34· C hapter ~ n ote d . 35· I n th e c:ollc
jeffery, Pfohl artdothera (Dib1iograph)•p.263), rd"C"''eucc:s to the "mydW)loCY" of ~th are almos.t oon<Xistau before che accood qu.a.ner of tht: fifth ttntury. EmplwU is C)G ICM1

C..opynght8d mat no1l

216

N oTES TO PAoEs 1-41

mmmo, the love of parents for <:hildren, and

the vircl•« of dte dead. <Xc3.~ion<~.ll>• an epic 1~g i'lp)Xars: wilhout rich coloring, 3'Utb as the IO$t in&eription from Alhe:ns, L . J eA'err. LISA j7 ( tg6~) 132 no. g1, £-reotolwv 8u•·cn·ors~(1Kpv)/o-E~ ~a8ft JX€' or from VclM.ide-.:a (Athcm NM 6732) J efft:.f)' 1«. dt . 140- 50 pl. 39b;. V. Stais1 DtlliM ( 1890) 2~'. ; Peck Gl', l.71 1 hos i:lllfiVQrOI(}) n07JlO!> / IN•XU' /1.-.Xaj ~t[a• p.oA' Q.hop}os. or Oamasistratos of

Nature According to Pindar :tnd Oth ers~~• TAPA 77 {1946} 13 1; Pindar's Pythi4nVIII suggc:\U da)' a:s sta tus, like IW.Stinwttllhrwt (i.g). tlruthu(ln h111'1(tJ' (VI..t-55); fr. 143 B, W Td.\aS' iios and fatality, chapter 3 note 36. On the Semonides vet'SC3, M. Oickie, /Ui~is C/a$sieal Studiu I ( 1976) 7f. ; D . Gerber, 'rAPA 100 (1969) anf.,

Scmnjon, JG P 1022; Friedlander 28; Pfohl ?3. TO yo.p )'fpao; ~CIT'I o(U'QVTWivl or T hera

opp®ng C. SjOtck, s_,.mbOu •;- •6 (1936) 86, who would have r<-ad ppoTo[ for ftonl;

{Pfohl 179; IG Xtt 31 768_; Peek GJI 1529) &po;r' ~JPo. Jr At&. Mention of HadN or

R . Laurenti, " }>cs:;sjmi$mO e nO•J pes:simismo

Pctllephone l$ not common before the 6fth century and had not much pic::torial or imagi· native quality eatliet. T here is no general use of Charon, the undc;rgrOll.lld rivers, g
nella poesia di Sen\onide I' Amorgino, u Sop/lia 32 ( 1964) 831'. ; H. Lloyd-jones. Femalts of 1/u Spuies (1975) 14, The infant mind and the r.:born $\In a re explicitly connected by Dano· k.tit~ 8 1~8 D~K; ( Plut. dL laltllltT uic.Y.Jtdo 5 p. I 129

E) : (0 tjA~o~ dl-'r.utxd.v · · • avvWpltl}O' -r<e

.,as

no punishment. sinners or spectacle. Accept· P(Jn-1 TO~ 1rp&,fus xa' .,Q.s ~o,)at&S ancc, not complaint, is ne-arly universal, (huivTwv, lZs 4>f1ut .d.) vio. i¢t'T,p.ipn although war-deadu stre» the youth and tfipov{oi"T~S' O....Opw1to1. excellence of the d(j;tl'Oycd, and tbc.: blunders ¥'· Tite connota tion of s(I/JitrMJM is sug· of Ates (literary type, :fnlhPal VJI.J6o.2. ge!:lted in xxiii. tf., in oonnectiOJ\ w'ilh the deep Pfohl 18-.1 (Teo$}; &echy1ide5 V. 130). '11l e :;leep of Penelope:: which .sh.aclded her, and Artstion stele fro m the Agora (Athens N'M her irritation with the "witJc:ss" nurse who 1~7-8) (jeffery /(}(. cit. t!ZO. 8, pl. ~Ha-c; announced Odys.'lcus' return 1 waking lht dead Peek GV 1227; IG 1 2 972) half-quot~:S AchHic:!~ untimely; cr. H. North: Sophr()S)'Ilt ( 191)6) 3· to Lykaon, cvlcr) ~I
Copyrighted material

c.a,.ry

'~·as hidden in a chasm" (Apoi.Jodoros. II I.~.'l) i;f a l~ ~ ro Oidipou.s in the 8TO\'C o( the Eumenides at K.olonos; t« the sh;a.manistie n"ture of 5\IC:h disa.p~ra.oces and the lct.rning acquired in caves, holes :u~d chests, by trance or s.pirit·voya.ge. R. Carptn· t.er, Foifr.. TaU, Ficti.tm o11l Sfll• in tl1t HftmrrU. ep;u ( 19)6) 112f.; Dodds, Irr
w.

J. D. P. Bohon, ArUtt
All thd.r ~ '-'hk:h an: under thdr bc..cb aUght br ,tokn, [But) they WQUid bl)l p:rc.-rn·e [it). Th~

world came Into being by thy b2.nd, AcrordinK M ti\OU h:ut rn:sde lhc:m. \\1u::n t hou IIJ~~l rikn tber live, \\'hen thou KIIOI 1hq· d.ie. 1nou .art Hretimc thine O'l''fl tC~r, For cae li\'0 (only) t~h tlwc. (A..\'~ 370; c. ,,~ •.c..)

123f.; A.ohdc, PSJ(IIt 300f. 45· XJ.aog, 3~3 ; xi .1og; eyes like fire, -43· W. Allen, Tlu .N~1t.t YIWkn-, 20 j:'l.nuary l.104-, XU ...66. X lll .-t74i sh arp ny• XVII. 1973. 3~ -33. Another fe;sr r:llited in dl3t may 373; t he s.tm'• •ish• tharpe$t XJV.3+4 (•igbt is 3ko Crttk: .. fe:a.r thac the:~ may be no has a cutting edce Jilte the ton.gu.C', cf. c:ha.pter afterlife-a dtpr"Cai.ng thou3ht. particularly 6 p. 197); Joo.kinc: u a synooymotliving~ U18, X\-111.6r +.On looting as lighri"3 t11cscmc few- those who hne bothc~ to sluvc. Also, ther e i1 the fem that there i~ IUl ilfterfife but i.u var-ied W3)'' • V.n•. XfX. 16 (n:uh from no one will know where it i1 bdn.g held." T he the eye), fl l.3!)7, IV.34i, X\'.13, and i.n Christian tradilion, abandoning llermel a nd genera l ~4. l..cum.a.nn. llonvriJellt W6rt.er the hdp(ul 0 as guidn, leaened wf!i:tcrn ( t g!;O) 1-tgf. ; 0 . Tatra.IH, ' 1 Crttk ~·fetapbors a pprehension about '" the way" 10 ~ ol" Ligh1," CQ. 10 ( 1g6o) 181 ; ~1.. 1'rt:u. u Licht
,m:

or

or

Copynghted matcn I

NoTES ro PAGES r-4 r 49· Some ptOblems w ith the two Otfyuey Nckyai. (or scholan who a re more t roubled b)' than appreciative of t hem, may derive from a hope that •h e')' rc:prt$(nt a genuine and consistent Creek theology or Cj,Chatology rather than poetic comment on the d «.J)<:$t them('.$ of both epiC$, Rohde thought, of the HcraltJes passage, xi.6cHf.: "Wb or:ver wrote thi.s was practising a little theology on hi$ own aOrta.nt dil>cu:ssiCm$, anlo ng man)',

in D icteric.b, JM9•io 2 (19t3) ; Rohde, RltM 1 ( 1895) 6oof. (Kitine &llriflen ii.255] ilond P$J~Iu

32; L. kadermacher, RM•l 14 ( rgo8) 531; E. Bcthc, Od)m.t ( rg~;H:!) 126; W. BO.chne.r , .. Probh;mc d er hornerischen Nckyia,t• Htm~es ?'l. ( 193i) 104; P. von der 1\·fuhU , u zur Erfindm1g: in der Nekyia der Odyssee.'• Pllilo/ ogus93 ( 1938) 3; A. Lord, TM SingerojTaUs (19&) 164; C. Peu:l, AnJike DisJa.usitmM ii.bfr die 6eiien Nek'l4i (t!}6g); see frame, note 36 above. BUchn er i$ especially appreciative of th e role ot' audience and poet. C. Pct:zl's Antik Disku.Jtio~n iiber Jil lteirkn NJ::~ni ( 1g6g) is illumi1uting for the scholiA$ts' total lack of information, and their facilit}' in t ransforming apeGulation into scholarly t radhion, providing solutiotu for :~uc:h J)tOblc:rm as how Od)'SSCUS could see from the b6thms to the iruid e of H ades, how Otos and Ephiahcs oould be p.~l<.c0'1tcr 6. 50· Pet-xl, op. d l., note .J9· 51 . The best discussions still seem to be in Rohde,, Psytfu ; and Roscher, ••l•syche,'' 3~01 f. {Waser). See abo Boehme, J)U &ele I/1Ul tiM ldr in htmt4riJdtm Epos ( 1923) . Rohde tgf. on appeasement by fire m.ust be modified by 4

more rocent a.rchaoological obsen•a tion and he is perhaps too convinced of the rt3d e:ssne:ss of unburned souls (V.41o}, but the principles must be correct, and even anccstor~worsh.ip, theoreticall)' unpopular now, flourished in myth and in lbe intensification, revival, or i.nstitution e>f c:ults in the fifth century. Rohde I un. 77, 79, on tidoJ<J, V and n. 6gJ. 00 Genes.ia, Nemnia and ghostsJ nn. 123f. on T ritopatores and wind40ul ghosts; see note t 2 above, !J:l. Boston 95·47 1 ARv~ 670.17, Manner of l he P. of London E. 3ol2, Fairbanks, AWL 1 pl. 7; $0g. PJato: Phaido Sod 5, 8t c g: TOlati1'v ~~"X~ {JapVvf.-rat Tf Kai (.\Kf.'Taa a&'Au• (ls 1'0v Opaf'Ov .,.&nov

TtfP''

.. ~'

'

.". ..1./l_

Q OJ1 KQI
r/JuxWv OKI().€1~ rfoan<Jqp.an, olo. rrt.lpl~

tSw.\a-. Sec Rohde, Psyclt1 170. 54· Sec the Bibliography, p. 263. 5!>· Verrneule, B.MFA 63 { rg6s) 34; L . Ma.Jten, ]JI 29 ( 1914-) 2r5f. ;6. REV A. •• Robert, ThamJt(JJ; Heinemann, Thanatos; Farnell, Cvlts Ill, ::t8o88j Nilsson, CCR P 45:1; and see the .Bibli· o.graphy p. 265. Ht~.dt!$' tenl.ple in Elill without prielt$1 Pau.,~ul.i.:tt VI.::t5.2 ; his tcmcnOfi on t\'lount Mintht'~ Strabo VIII p . 344; his cult as Klymenos {?) in Hermione, PaU.W.ttiaa 11.35·9, cf. IX.3-J-1; his lack of gifts, Aiscbylos fr. t6t N!.i; Plato, Pkaida 8o d, &ya80s- Kai tj>p&vtp.O.S Ot&s. For Hades and Pel'$Cphone eults in general, RE Sup. III, 867 ( Prehn), a list of cult and literary epithets ; G. Zuntz, P"up!wru ( t971); Stengel, Opftrbraut.M; 1(. Di.hhcy, " J i gcr Hades und Jigerin Per$C.· phone," Arth~tit 31 ( 1874) 82, K'tl"'7)"~t; for Had e~ KVCU'oxat'"}s, N. Richardson, The Homnit HJmn to Dm¥ttr {1975) o n 347; l'. T hieme in R. Schmiu, lndogmnanisd~t DkhleT· JpraW { 1968} 133f. ·n,e common Hor:nerie adjcctivc:s arc 11U-'«P"'1}.r , OT&/Yt'pOs (V Ill.,368) , Uflc [,\,xos, ~.tQ.aTos (lX. t58), cia.'.dJp«>~ ( V.395), H.\U1'0'1!'wAos (V. 654) Xl.445).llle qua.s.i magical euphemi!lms of the Hy mN t~ Demlln include polydtkt<Js (9), fl<Jl.Jon)'mos (t8), pol;•setrnl~l~Qr (31, 376), which Ai.schylos develops. :u M ptt/;Jxtf'b()tatru, .('eus ton xolo'T(U 70l0V1'0.1 lj.vx(l' ..

4

Copyrighted material

NOTES TO PAOF.S 1- 4 1

Mkmtlwttm (Supplimus 14-4; twknK.hgmon, Prrr md/teu.J ' !13) · Other cla.uical writent develop similar themes dark hair' honJemanship and hospitality without n.:ally altering the Homeric divinity until the Auie-Eleusini:m inAuence of Plouton softens the image on one side, as a benign giver, and hardens it on the other as a possemive and unbeodi.ng, thOU:Q"h not malig·

or

nant, j ailer. For Hades' horKman:ship and horses on gra vatoncs and 'f otenmahl reliefs, L . Malten, Jdl ~9 (1914) 179f. ; D. Frame, N(W.S {note 36), p.1$Sim_; Penepbone pictures collected in A. Pescblow·Bindokat, Jdl 87 (1972) 6ot.; Hadt'!11 and Plouton,l<. Schaumburg, ]d/68 (1953) 38f. 57· £ .g. Aisebylos, PmimtS OO:g, "Earth and Hennes and king of the dead "; 640, " Earth and oth er m ien of the cl:uhonian powtn"; Ch«P}}. 48g, "0 Earth, release father to me .... •• !)8. Chapter 4 note 20. ,sg. CJ, Ganschi:nictz. "Katab:t.Sis,'-' RE X.2359; and Pausanias ll.35·1o, 37.6, DiodorusSicutus IV.2!H·;J.C. f'r:w:r, on Apol~ doros, Librat')lll l.5.3; and Plutarch's picture of lh e pool numinis vinditto :z:a, s6sf. 6o. In the annals ofSbalmaneser Ill (858824; ANET2 279), after the battle of Karbra there were so many eor)):Sei dogging the plain that the souls could find no fr« space Or cavities to get down through: "The plai.n was too small to let all their [lit. his] souls d escend: tf1e v:ut field gave out tO bury thern." 61. P. T hieme, "Hades;• BVSAW g8 ( 1952) 3sf· (R. Schmitt, ed., lnd(l,(wrttmische Di&hlmp•.W [ •!}68) '3Jf.) . 62. The singh: g:.ttc>keq)(l' of Orcc:k m yth h1 Hadn-plus-dog; the Argive D iony&"iac rite with la..mf>.~crilice in the water, Pluta rch, Isis and OJ;ris 35·s£,P.; Farnell, Ccdts V, 30~ n. 9sl; W. C. K. G uthrie, 'nu Cruks Md t.Mit Goth {1950) rOO. The single gate·kceper attends aU seven gatel in the Akkadia n OC$Ccnt oi bhtar (ANEJ'2 107) ; in Sumerian myth the chief keeper is Neti. T he seven ga.re· keepers of Egypt have multiple title3, such as 219 (r) Face Downward: Sad of Voice; {2) Spy, G uard, "\Vatchfl•l,.; (3) Eater of the Ex<.:re· ment of H is Posttrior, Alert of Fa<.:e; (4) Re]m lsive of Fa<.:e. Garrulow, Repeller of the Crocodile; (5) He who Live'S on Rotten Meat, Face a -fire; (6) Clawer of Bread, Vibrant of Voioe; (7) Keenest of T hem, Big or Voice, Repeller of Att:~.ckers (T. G. Allen, The Eg)ptiM Book 'If th< Dea4 (•g6o), ch. 144). The Creek gate! of Hades, V.f46, IX.31~, difficuh tO exit through XXIII.71, 76, oVK cMf~ov, Ai:s<.:hyi<J~S, Pcrsi(Uf.$ 688; daR, T hc:o· gnis 709; the dog, VUI.a68, oKo-ro8·ao011'VK)'· 0Tf»XtL, Arutophanes, AthatJtimu sgo; Cates of Heaven, V.749, VIII.393. 41T; of Tarta.r(l$, H~od, Tlr10~fJ.>' 119, 721f.; of the Sun, :odv.12, of Dreams, iv.8og, :dx.562; the Pylos Gate, V.397 and Piodar, Ol.Fmpitm V.29. 63. P. jacobubal, " 'l'hc Nckyia Krater io New Yor k," Mtftl)polifaff Musrum Srudils 5 ( 1934--36) 117f.j P. Fricdl!l.nder, '' Zut New Yor-ker Nekyia," AA ( 1935) 2of. 6.t-. the anonymous t ragic fragment Nauclc.·Snell909. 372. Burial in an alien land may bring parallel loneliness to the PSJ'th~, as for Stbenelos Aktor's son in the Arg6flautika (Apollonio.s ILg1 Tr.} whom "Pen;ephone" sends up on top of his banoow to sec men like him.•elf again; poetry not theology. HectOr gC>ell to Had<:$ formulai c3lly, XXI LaM, but does not appear there. 6s. T hanatos is8u011x*' (XVI.w , XXII. t8o), .\£vynMos (XXI.281, v.3 12, xv.359), Kcuc6s (tl l. l73, XXI.66, XXII.3oo}, p lAas ( U.83·t. Xf.332, XVI.687), KtlTaOVv.ros (XVI1.201, X .g8g), "of4,vp cr. n(~q' (J V.5 17, XXII.;.), .Zprnv (V.629),and 1)6.p.uoue (XVIII.IIg, OO.u~vo.' XVII.421 ). I am not sure i.n what sense the two ''in· vitadons to death" art given to Patroklos (XVI.6g3) and Hclctor (XX II.297) ; like a summons to a banquet? 11\e phrase o~o~· 8~Q.1'6...8c ,...&,.\t>uauv is adapted abo to invitations to ::wembly ( XX. 16}, to bed (ii. 3of.8), tO home (xLpo), or to conversation apM1 (XV.529). Copyrighted material NoTES TO PAGES 1- 4 1 220 66. T he common formulas joining Jhtmai()J to another abs-traction are : 6QI'0.1'tlt lf'(lj ,.._ofpo l(l~"ft XVlll.478, 61•• XXI!.436 On- ·z-op{OTtjt£ '"'t fU.>Opo "1'(00'0~ XVL653· XX IV.132 /J.\o~( 111oH'~f.1S llli-oro; >foi JlOipn Kpcmm1 Porph>'J1' : doud XVII.551, Htrmu ~ I]; r.W:.bow XVIl.sH; blood X V fl. 36 • ; .s-ea l.482, XVI.391 ,; hl!'~lrt X...X.I.55 ' • iv.oJ.'2i• 57~ . X.309: XIV. J6 J...r s·o,.e r.-op!f,6pn ::ri.\o.yospiyo K6f.'Q.n Kw.X~ (cf. 391, 1.• 8~)> or Skamander 4\.\' ;"( f'Ot .-o.i .;J.IoJ 8-l"tHOS ..at p.oi.po. .,.povo•-.f &.m '~ ...:a( o;Jlar, .v11i wotVc11~. fl0/4t''{I(OI' b' Op4 ..&;.a bu:r<'rio; :ro ro~oio fMJI'p\'/ll>lv V.83, XVI.334, X...X.471 XXJ.no ~JI-1"'" 8'0trrror(p'f' S )Jl,JOI oU 't(lp w~ 'IOI f'Oipa. t?aw-l-v ~toi. "'J'tiV l:troo1tc ir V I J.s~ oi "' &f...us Ko.l J.~Oipo"'l_ .:_ ,\ , .,&,,_.r.w) ~.:,.0,..11' IMi>4TOr ft ... J\1,170 r;'Ol'/f ;>-tip 'U *p.oip" ix.61• x-Ltog, x vi.421, li'X.2.JI a'Oyt J.~O\oo. o<011'1\ ~& ,-i.\oo8c Xlli.&Yl OAolj Ko.8lJ.n,• ' o"'fMylof ~"o,..,cQ ii.I OO, iii.238, xlx.145• :<xh·. Jj!j .X.U' ci-rf "t"' .S./p.oipo :11oP'""~"'i? fto.l'lit'OtQ Hprr~ liJ AphJ!ldlt.t 269 9&t'0:T01> ..ll.i '1!'0t"J.I(II' ('lriltfr!) 11.3~, XV.495, X.X.337, iv.196, xl.389. 412, : ,.IJ.l ...:•jpo +Vrw~(" XVIl.JIl.l ocif'OIO X I I .326 31io ..7Jp( TO~cy/os 8o"'f.ro.11 VIII. t 70, XXI 1.~110 &x8cS:~tt ~; ~/pt;.n> ~r()J() rlAoo& I x ,4 I I .,.,:;p(" 8cu'liT<>u> .o.:al orr,&a QQ,o;r6r n ¢vytil' ..:oi ~a.AIW ~Af1'7'1t BOroT~:W OCGl ~'o.v Cr-o(pw~> e.ii'tHOS [XXl.'l';] T{-:-UI(TQ& I V.~;o ll-401 X Vl l.381 67. Black : C.l.l'th 11 1.699, XV. JIS, XVII. 416, XX.494, with blood; night XfV.439, Vlll.oJ86, X.097, 394· ·lf>ll, VII I.; o>, IX.6;, XXIV.366. 6~g ; JI.E~ai.l.·"'r vt.'KTQS' d.jsoAyo/ XV.324. Od. and Hymr~s; blood IV. t.l97 VII. 262, X .2g8, ¥>9, X J.813 ofp.u. JSiAo.v J<EMpvCE · vOos y( ~vlp.1u"S,s '}fv, XII I.6ss, XXI.119, XV1.!)29, XXI\•'.!)87, XX.470, XXHl.8o6, iii.155• Hfr~ms 12'2 >cloud, of death XVL350, iv.18o, of grief xxiv.3 15 ; $<::i :tnd W3\'CS XXI. 126. X:XIll.6!)3, \v.¢2. v.353; pai'' IV. n7, •9 •; $prinS' lX.a.l, XVI.3, 16o, XX I. ~57, XlC. I !)8; XXI. ~M, iv.359, vi.9r, xii. 104-; 3.~lH!!> XVJII. ·o~s, v ••J88; dt•5t Hmnr.J •.JO, 3·•!>· Cf. tfopives GIJriHP.i;\o•wu~ 1.1031 Ais.chyiO$. Pmiq.n.r 116 IJ€•\a.yxi.,wv if>p~v Gl'60'u (T(U t$6P~· Cloth.Vp(OS O&••o. sf., csp. 14-2~; older \•iew~ in Re St•PI>· IV.883 (Malt.0'1} (X III, 665, XVH I.53.5}, .~.:cu..-tl (XII.113, XVI.687, XXII.'202'}; like d c:~th, J'(Aa{~ {I LB.sg. Ill.36o, VJI.2;4. XI.36o, XJV.j.Go, v .•2, 652, X l.443, XVJI .7•4, X.XI.66). She (t her) are mistrcn of Ociva-ror (in the geniti\'C) or paired with t}OW>s (V.G~:~, X I +13 · XVll.7 ' •h XX1.66). The most intcrcstirt.."~; pa.ssttge, apart f1'0m the Shield (X V I11.S35), is the cxprC$sion KT'fpeoo«Jof»J,.o~ K'6•·as (V lll.!)27) 1 with th e :;;,me oLSSoci:ttioru. a:s for Hc.katc:, Hades, and the god5 wJ1o cleoln t he OOI"J):Sei on t he battle· field (below chapter 3 i>· 103). T he Ht:$iodi¢ Shidd insists on white limg;s., chaw:;. and bloodthirn, 248f. Post·Homeric authors tend 10 ill\'tst .~.:'?pes with a greater sense of moral duty a nd <'.()ISmic runc1ion t han is discernible in epic - 1111).co-notvot ( He~iod, TJt. 217) mar not be later, lh ll i3 .. t.thic:.l" whete t he Home•·ic int ent ~ not ; cf. «••etn>.&K.,T(Il Sophokles, +7'2;. t lu; •• conversion " tO SJ)hinx (lip TT~&.~~Spu Ktlp', Aiscl1}·los, Suvt 777) i:~ or m3)' be the J)rt·Homc ric idea hannonixing with Patto· klo5' remark and the eherub (c;h:lJ)ter '2 J). fi9}. or Copyrighted material 221 For l<'tjpvv<>r, a throw of dice, see bclow, cha pter ~ note 73· 6g. Ch:-u\traine, Dictjqnnairts.v. CHAPTER II DEATH IN Tlffi BRONZE AGE: A HOUSE IS NOT A HOME 1. A!pccu of eatl)' butial practice in Anatolia. J, MellMrt, &rlifst Ci<~iJizatiom in the Near Easl (1g65) 86f.: and {:nt41 UUyilk ( 1967) 2o,V. ; in Greece, C. Hourmolttiades in D. ·neochatC'.i, t1 al., }/wlithic Grt.tGt ( •973) :lOtf. ; see :\ISO K . Biuel, WVDOG 71 (1958), C. Hawk<:&: The Prehistoric Formdoli(JnS of Eurl)j>8 (1973) 33!l·, V, C. C:hi.lde: Mou 1\1'oJ.·ts M'mnlf ( 1936) !)<Jr., a.nd Mmt <J· ( •9<1·5 ) 13f.• P. Ucko, Jffotld ArchaMlog)· t ( 1969) 2&1f., and see below.- not~ 12, 27. T he jericho skulls in J. Garstang1 Tht. StOf)' of}tric/u, ( 1940) 57f., and MeWnk-Fi lip,FSK pl. 113; the Ohahariye mask ibid. pl. XJX. 2. W. S. Smith , lig)jJiitJI'l Scuiptw~ m:d Painlillg in tM Old Kingtlom ( 1949) :l3f.; C. W. Blegen, "Early Greek Pomaits/' ti)A 66 ( 1g62) 245f. ; M. PaUottino, 11tt Etrustans2 ( 1975) 147(',; C. Von Vaccano, Th, Etruscan! in tht Andml World {t g6o) 55f.; E. Panots.ky, 'rQ,tb SeuiprUTe ( 1g64) 49f. ; M. Nagle" at Berkeley :mgg~;ilt\..-d Lhe ;tJ)J)ropriaten~ of J;,mes Oicker•s poC"m Helmtts to the t hemes of military cemeteries. 3· E.g. t he Mesolithic burial in the f'ra.n· chthi Cave, T. Jacobsen, Hrspuia 38 (1969) 374 pl. 100 b,c; here P'ig. 3· 4· Chapter J note 19; f. Ei<:h)er, "'E.;,J,«l und M"'}p« u, A ,<\1 39 ( 1914) t 38; VV .Schiel'ing, "'Stele und Dild," A.4 ( 1974), 651; Nib.'!Oll, CCR J2 191 ; D. SchwcitoxCl', SBI..dp:;ig 91 ( •939) 4· sr. 5· J. ~,tdh.'u'1, f.-o!()! Hii)•iik ( 1967) 204; a "ball of fin e c;;loth" was 11ubsLituu:d for che bro, Wqr/d ArdiQw/togr 1 (tg6g) 270; ''r, H. White, The Blstiary ( 1954} 30f.: "The YC"na , , , is accustomed to live in the sepulchres of the dead and to devour their bodies. l ts nature is that at one moment it is masculine and a1. another moment feminine, and hence it i$ a dirty brute .. , in order that it may prey upon men , , . it copies tbe sound of human vomiting , . . it gobbles up with hypoc;ritical sob$, 01 Aelian passes on Arillt¢tle'll rcpon of the hyena's power to send any livi_og creature to sleep wirh a tOt1eh of his left paw, Vl.14, and powers of sorcery in moonlight, m;aking silence by its shadow, like a special dog of Heka.te. 6. rvtculi, 0/ifubrqiidlt :l24f. and Burker1, HN :14f. 011 the ritU.o'\l behavior of hunters with the bones of those they have lOlled; it is always t he bones which must be c;olloeted 1 buried and \'Cncr3tcd. The m0$t di~turbing vl$-ion in the Od)'Jsey ~ of the \Vhite bones rotting in the rain (i. 161 ), rolling in the sea or lying unheeded on tJlesand (xiv. t3.S)· Arehi. locltw' 1rf·rr s,· '93)· 1· Sc:e chapter 3 note 24 on birds a nd dogs; for the problem of ). 8;\ttlefldd-Lion. p.'lleue. Abrdo:s, c. 3400-3200. London/0:-:ford/Luccmet MeiJink-Filip, FSK 1'1. 2 12a, H. Miilkr, ZAtS 8.f. ( •959) 6Sr., J. H.,.,.;,, ]EA 46 ( >g6o) >o4f., W. S. Smith, BAfFA 65 ( 1967) ;;f. Vulture Stele, :\, Moongat, tlrl oj tlfl(.i tnl Muopolomia ( 1969) pll. 116-121 ; Lou\'re AO 2346-2348; E. Stromnl enge•·, Atl Q.{ M~ll)ptltnmia ( 1964) Copyrighted material 222 NOTES TO PAGES 4 2-82 pll. 66-6<); L. H ell%<:·)') Calologue de.s AntiquitJ.s CJwldkm ••. du Ltnwn ( 1902) 101f.; E. de $a1'7.CC and (... Hcuzcy. Dicmwntts tr1 Clloldit .s. •s .;,. (•88•· •906) pll. 3"<1, 10 . J. Perrot, in Md.link-.Filip, FS Kpl. 127; ' ' U ne Tombe A osst•aires du t V• mill(n:tire a Azor/' 'Atiquol 3 ( 1g61) If.; E. Panof.tky, Tomb Sw/plurt ( 1964) 10 n. 2 (P. Kahane}j /IIUJiraud L&~JdQn Ntws 237 (1g6o) 998; d. F. Belm, Hau.tumn: ( 1924). Some ossuaries have beaks: like \•uilutcs' , a nd like ('>(lrgias' yfhrn: ;l,e/Jvxor ,.Q~, ( D·K 8.~;'25) ; ef. ?vlc:lllnk· f'ilip. NiK t 20n- •-z!)b. 11 . F. Matz) Dit ifnlikt 4 ( 1928) 2:66,; A. \V. La \''rence, Cuek Aulu'tttltJrt (1957) :u 1f. ; K. f'. Kinch, I.e lombt-au de Nia11Sta (1920) ; P. Pctsas, 0 Toplm 1011 Llukadion (1966) ; K-8 273· 3ii' 12. S. l<'kovidl':$1 Puoti B {1970} 43f. w ith bibliography, and notc '.1.7 below, end . 13. T his oven.impli.lied contrnlt lx:lw.,.•M individual Middle HeUadic dst gravo a nd ~'f )•tcll nean ch.ambcr-tombs should indude the g.l'oup tumulu.$ graves wirh individual u lls, at such sirt:S as Samikon, Koukiri kos, P3poulia, !\•lakr ysia and Py10\'i on the wes.t eoa.~t, Marathon, Aphidna., Argos and ,' \sine on th e ea.n; N. G . L. Hammond, BSA 6z ( 11) 67) 7i and Migralitm.J flml lnt'O.JiMS in Ort~t anrl lfriJru~t .-1,-ros ( t9';G) t 13f:; \\', Taylour in C. Blegen, M. Rawt~On, W. Taylour, W. Dono\'3n, PJ·hi.t III (1973) t j t ; S . Marinatos, in R . C~lan d , A. 8 il'e hall, eds., BrMu t (ge Migr~l iuns ( 197-r) 1 t 1. 14. Aisch)' loo, Agam.tJWSDJI 1553f. and E . Fra¢1lkcl ( 19M) on 1' 5i; Pindar, Pythia11 Xl.19; the widcsJ>re:'ld belief in t he dead :u meSS<:ngers 10 th ('. dead doeumentc;d :'UT'IOI'I{!; the Getae ( Hcrodotos lV.g4} ; E-u ripid'-, nmkes Od)'.53Cusimaglne th:tt the dead whi:spet, :u lltey stand by Pers('phone, of G reek in· gratitude to Greek1 a w-:trc of C\ lfTCJH events at Troy, Hlknlll 136; cf. ;\l(:.xiO\J, I.An!mt4t: A wise housewife, an q rdeTiy woman, hafi m.nde up h.:r mind and d ecided 10 s o do"'" IO HadeJ. ff )'OU hll\'C" nlett3g:d tO St:nd, give tbtnt tO btt 1o t:ake, and if you h.aw: 3 soo unarmed, send hint wc:a poru too. '5· Seej. M. Cook, " 11le Cuh ofAgamem· non llt Mycenae," BSA 46 ( 1 9~3) ar, ;Uld Gmu Ktra1nfi/JO!tllos ( 1933) . 16. See chapter 3 note 30. See al50 Ni~on, CGR I' 90, 99; R. C. j ehb, Soph"ks, Tlu £/mra ( 1907} on 445· 11lc mcfio of t he dead men which get bound round the neck very probably inclvde genita b in pract ice, a lthot1gh liter:sry sourc~, arc shy of mentioning it; in our own tima th is has been reported in Algeria and Vietnam. See chapter 3 notes 18, 30. 17. E. Waugh: 111t U r.td 011e ( 19-t-8} 45: " I presume th e L<wed O ne W Qj Droth (o9G3) .. a. 18. 1am not surewhenthcsc'"'ordswe re fin t applied by modern archaeologi..s.u to Myc:e· tt.aean th olos tomb.\ j dromos~ at Jeas.t, is used by H. Schliemann 1\'lj~mat OJtd / itynJ ( t9;6) 4·3; probably n.ll t hree were the natural \'Cnm cul ;~.r dac.r iption. ndOJ)Ied by aa'C:h acol· ogiu s f1'0M loc::tl practice: and ramiliar from Tsountas' time on (Ch. T.sountas, .J, Manau, Thr A/J'(-m atnn AM [t6g7) 115C.) . Thalorno~ w;u appl ied to the grave, in an equa lly natur<&l \\':ly, l)y Airschylo.s (Ptrsiruts 6'l.J--, libat ions to th e underground ch:~.mbets) , ch en by Soph· okla (e.g. Antig4nt. 8o4., 947), and E\lri(>idts ( Nm1~lfs 8o7, Sr,pplioiJl Wonll'll IO'J.'.t) ; Jtqmion by Aisc.hyiO\'i (Ch(J<tpkoroi 8o;) and Sophokl" (A111igont 1::t a; ) , mixed with che entratl Cit' to the undc-1'\\'0I'Id as in Plato, Rl~blic 615 d,e. Arte midoros, On Duams, epigrounmatix~. I-r6tMJ iouc( ni.O:~uc. 1i1e tr:Jd ilio nal Homeric U;Se of lhalsmos both for women's inner ehnm bel'$1 bedrooms ( lll.1:13, X I.22;} a nd for storerooms with \'aluabJes (XXIV. t g 1, x:si.8) made it eaS)' to con.,.ert tholqi into treasuri(';l (see DodwclJ, quoted by Schlie. mann, 6p. til. 47) and into th e bedrooms of hcroi.rH.,1 the bedroom-vault of D::tnac io. the Treasury Atreus. or th e bedrooms the daughters of Proito.s betwc:('n T iryns ;md the se:'l (P~u:;an.ia.s 11.2!).9) or the: stma :lnd tklu. of or or Copyrighted material NOTES TO PACES 42-82 the Hyperborean maiden.~ on Del<:l\. 8a).6Jt"J m ay be u$00 lOr sea~cavern11 a.nd octOp\ls lair$ (v.4321 Ari3t. HiJttJria Anfmt~lium 535a, 519b, 32), dragon~' dt:ns {F:uripide:s, PlloinU.sni~ 93 1), proph etic ca ..·ern$ (Trophonios: Euripidc:s, Jon 394}, or th e grave ( Euripides, Sappli.anl Womtlt g.Oo) ; these matters are all connected. "t here might be a •'clation between th e OromO$ in A then$ to ''the n'\CC·track of life'' and the state graves along it, 'rii~· w~pl 1/n'x.iJs 3p6JlaV an}' depth; of the robbed tholos tombs, which number in hundreds, Menidi-Achamai is b~t for th e cult it appar ently e-ngendered; H . l ..olling r.t 4/., Das KupfJtlgrab bei Mtnidi ( •68o), P. Wolters, " Vasen aus Menidi:'' ] dl 14 ( t8ro) 103 ; C. W. Blegen,'' Post·Myttna~ao Ocpc:»iu in Chamber Tombs.," EpJr.Arth ( 1937) 371 ; fo t Otehomt00$1 C. Belger, ''Crab d~ Hoiod in Orcbomenos," .4A (1~ 1 ) t86. See a lso R. K . Hack, "Hornet and the Cult or k~1 0wn 8pup.Ei1.: Aristophanes: IVOJp.< 375, fTEP' 1/!vri) 0 3p0JJ.OS Plato, Tlrtaittlos 173a, though it seems Heroes,'' TAPA 6o ( 1929}57; T. Hadzisteliou· Price, " Hem-cult and Homer:• /Jistorin 22 rar-fetcbed j cf. P. J acoby, UPattiOe:l Nomos: State Burials in Athens," JHS 64 ( 194-~) 3;f.; K . G4;;b:t~1 er, A.4 ( tga8) 6 1 ~, 1940, 345 ; R. C. J cbb, SuJ~lu, Andgtmt on 8.1.8, 1~ 16. 19. 0 . L. Page :svgg('.sted ' he ide:t in. A1hen11, •965; cf. G. Pnp.-th:m~or>Oulrn, AA.-i ·t ( 19it) 12, 149• 289,; N . L.nmbert, AAtt 5 ( 1973) nzg;j. N. Colcbt ream, u HCJ-o-eulu in (•97•) 0 99· 20. Ch.aJHer 1 note 6. 2 1. Cf. £ . Vermeule, f'tJI$(1!rift f'. Br()tllmtt' ( 1977}; and ro1· La mia in gt1l etttl, Roscller II ( 18 18) ( OJ'e xler}; RE V , 2 ~0 (W:uer, E..nJ)USa) ; Rohde, P.fJ·clt1 .p o; J. C. La wson, :Hm!r.rn Cruk F"lkl"u ttnd A11cimt Cruk RtUgi()ll ( 1!)10} 173; M. !\·layer, " Kanne a uf Kamei· ros/' At(II.Ztit 43 { t89s) and AM 16 ( 18g1) JOO i W. W. Hyde, Cm k Rtli.tion and ih Sun·hv;l~ ( 1923) 1;sf. ; H oupcls, ABL 143 ; J. Fontenrose! P;'lltOII ( 1959) g,if. The d erivation from l the Age or Homer," JHS 96 (1976) sr.; R. H5gg, "?\•lykeni11c:he Kvh stiit.ten, " Opll.th 8 ( tg68) 3gf. ;. Nilsson, .MMR'l 6o3. Charoctcti~ti c firth-century s ·ra\•C$ in AtllCTl$ :Hid Attica (K·B g6- 100, 354) indude oblong pit.J and shaftt~, wmetimes with coffins. day Hal», or c.:ovcr slabs; ear th mounds with multiple single graves, tile graves, crcmatioM in bronze cauldrons or hydriai ortcn !¢( in stone boxes, and a fe\1.' built tombs, of mud· brick as in atchaic times, or ocea\ionally with a stone facade; cr. G. Boulter, "Graves in Lenormant Sw~et, Athens, •• Huptria 32 ( 1963) 113- 37i S. C haritonid~~ ''Exca\'ations of Clas-s-ical Burials near S>•ntagma Squa.re," EphA,ch ( 1958) 1- 152; B. Sehlorb-Viemeisel, AM 8 t {1966) 4- 11 1. T he livins death ill a roc.:ky vaulted cave rn· tomb i$ thte:uened again in Sophokle$' Elektro~ 38of., a sign of t he picturesque interest i.n e<wems and crags in fifth ·oentury scenery; s.cc. W . J obst, Dit 1/iihle im grUe.hisdttn ·nuatn Ju 5· uml 4· Jalirhwukrts v. Chr. ( 1970}, and T. B. L. Webster, )HS 9 1 ( 1971) 209. Mo~t caverns naturally appear only verbally, in messenger speeches. 25. 'l 'he belief t hat t he loutrophows,.\•ase is a sign of burial of M uowedded person who h:\S lx:come wedded in death is based mainl)· on Oemosthents, AgaiJUl l...t-oe.Jwm, 18 and 30 (>.ovrpotfo&po-r i.+io"Ttt' skeptical di!cu$.\ion in K·B, 149f. Al'(;haca. logica1 and literary evidence i.i eolleeted in R. Ci.nouvCs, 84/lttltuJiki, "l..e. bain et les rit« funerairn." 245(.; cf. H. Kenner, " Dat~ Luterion im K uh.'' O]h 29 ( 1935) 150. 11lere is no doubt lh at water was a key element in Copyrighted material fu~1eral rites (Eitnm 1 OhftrrihU ,Gf., SLC"ngcl, Jf11!tw41Jnrllmn' •5!l.), but t hC're is tome doubt th:!l.t the •• bride ofdeath"theme "'"' u popular uwetbi1\k {K·B 127, J,SI)i even the Alll~l'ltll is restrained on thit tOf)ic ( 1204 A..t96oTpwrot' ••• 'PUJl'$t:iov .ilt3ou KOiAcw), ytt lhe ida it 10 firmly hekl that Euripides, 1/tk.H 6u, ""' .. ~~a louf,efi' Nir •-""'f (..+........,. ?'M,,+- ._,.n- r ••.,.,._. ., .lo.:.. .,....,... , - could be ltand3ttd.: "' I mwt ll\'C: lU}' daughter's body its INC bath I bJor-e h.u burial, thii w«kling which il dc:lth. For W marries Hada, :and I mt~~t b.'lthe: the bride I acd by her out :u dacn"CC" (W. Am>w· smith i:n l':.utphk Gt«.l Tr.,nu, Euripides 3· 3-f.). 1'he rderen« is to the unoeomunun.urd wcddjJlg wi1h the dead AthiJJa. 11~c: fin1 rcfCT('I'I(c: tA) (virginal) bridal In trades may 1x t hC' well·lu\l)wn (pigra.m (or Aule llbnu.i· klda, c. ,5401 "'c: C ra'CC {D. Levi. "La Tomba a Tbolos di Ka.mit&J•i ptc:uo a l:e;sta,s," .4nm!W n..s. 23_..4 ( r!Jiir-6>) rosf'.). The ftclings and J>la.c.tion of the dead :are vert dif'Ferc:ntly estimated by authors different temperaments; 1001c like the livid, looging dead in th-eir gr&\U (e.s. A. Schnaufer, Frii!pirtdtUdtn or T~l- [rg;o), a. C. Sou.-.inou·lnwood, ]liS 92 (1912) 220), as oppo:5C'd.to the mcc:rful pragmatic spi.rit displayed tbrougbour in K-8. In some moods there is an o-."U-estim:t'ion of Greek fc-.ar of gbom and ~~~ in general, for wbkh we arc pattly iDdebtcd to the pc:mwive doquentt aod lelm.ing d jane H:.tri.aon; there is no good earl)· t.e:sti--- mooy roc ""killing" a ~·s w~poos b)· (cf. chapte< r 6g. r, 1<-8 52); "scconds" are ftttly used in buri.als wtd\0\lt f~r of repris2ls (d. Huptria 3~ (t!}66) 67); there is no ghost-feu ln Homer apart from the natural DCl"\'OUSnes& attendant bcndin& •• b<eaking rhcm on vUiting the: underworld, and little in Hesiod a pan (rom the kjnd spirit.s who roam the c:atth (WD 1~3); although mu:rd~ must lAp.« IPpooo-"Mle-t, l ~ lfflt.Aiii'O,..o•l ~ld, alway• make: th e tnurdecer wtc:a:sy (a«: ch~~...3 note 30 on ma.rdlali.rmw). Most gh0$t tala (G. Kai bel~ Ept,nflfflfllff4 Gra«a 6 i IC I ~ 1014 i arc: late, rooted in folktale, some kinds of Peek, C V 66, GC 30; j e llb·y, BSA .57 ( q)62) rom:ancc:, aud the ddibcratc: revival of sntit38, pl. 3~, fig. tol yx~n• with dead t hcjr nntique origios and their improved Acltillct, l... MRhen,Jdh!) ( 1!)14) tl6of.; ti.J . behav-ior. See Nilu(m, GGR 12 182 ; L. Colli· Rose, .. T he Ul'ide of Hada/' CP :~o ( •925) ~~~ Motley, Gr"k aM Romi.UI Glum SWrUs '2'38; F. Sthwenn. D•'t MmMJr~,wpfn btl tltll ( 1912); B. D ingwall, Glw#s and Spin'U Ut Jht Criuhr., ~rut R6rMr (19•l) 15-t, 166; U\1rk'-'1't1 Antiertl World ( 1930) ; J. Fonu:nrose, "Tbe 11)11 7!){. ( Po1yxena '"' "whore of 1he Army,). Hero :u Athlc:l ~ " California Studils Ut Clas.siud 26. S. lako\•idca, Ptrali 0 (1970) 76; lhc lf~triquify I (•g60) 79i ror lhe Trilopatreion in body evidently nill ~emed capable ofrceling. Athcru (windt and ancestra.l ghos-ts) L. ~7· C. W. ll1c:gen, Prourm•a ( 1937) toO, Deubner, Attix~~e Put. (1932) ......, n. 7; Rohde., ~13, ~5S. ror 1he prirtt :and the CArpenter; PS)'(k q46; S. E.iu<eJn , Eri:J'I{)J 20 ( 19101:1--22) gB; smiths and tOktien :t.re eaaily identified; such B. Hornber-g, /ii<MJ (1954) ,,.; D . Ohly, gifts are no proof of the fet:lingt olthc dea.d M ( r!Jiis) 3•7; K . KUbler-, M ( 1973) r8g; about their bdongi.ng~lince the 1-lyle or burial J. Trav~, Pirlllriol Dic.tiMwy tif ...tacitr:t Athens is detennin«< by the turvh'On who mw1 ( •97•) :J02i S . Denton, Shltii U. fN'II.»'e di I..iu often ha\oe b:p1 ..,;hal they wanted. The noc s• Copyr l\.· tyunaean funeral p!'e~Uiptions we:re oral, a.nd J>I'Ob;\bl)• dlO'o\-ed )()(:;ll diffe~ca in lJ>icc of " gtneral mainland homoguu:ity of tombt~']>O, t hc:re is no hop~ of reconst ructing them throuah any comb ination or Honu!.ric crtmtltion·paas3gcs a nd rec:aJdtrant Pylos texts, 3h hough some minor maniJettations likt: 8.iahc. arrows and $ma.shM drinkinJJ cuJ» arc: ra:ognizablc: enough. T he: Hittite: dc;uhwagon, pavilion, i:magts of ftulu, wi$c wCllm'f\ "ith telllcs and antipbonal.sonp.. muMc, pd C\lpl, ppevine cut wifb a silvu batcht:l~ ox.cn with aik or or gf.. on KUB XXX and XIl; K. Bittel," Die hcthltltt.h~n Crabil:ndc von Osnlankay:ui," AIDOC 71 ( 1933}, "'Htthitisc.hc Oatnttunpbrduehe," MDOC 78 ( 1940) ,,. 'l'hc poMiblc conopondence berwetn the Hittite we of the ppcvine in funer.tls and the (rcqucnt UIC of vineothooca in Anic burial$ (K-B $'~• G.t, 66, 75), whaher as fud or with Dtoft)"Jiac impli· eationJ, might deserve: invatigation. Gr«k tomb-robbef'J wert no more deterred by ghosts Lhan their <::ounterparu in EsYJH a nd the E~to~ot, M i_n t.hc 1_.114/ul btl MIIVJ;I, .. grMvc wRII atill open when they rifled my Jrcfttures, ' vhile I was not )'Cl d c:.d 11lrtndy they JIOJ>pcd mourning," H. Fr:mkiOrt d 41., Bif.., l'hiliJJOf!hy ( I 949) 228. 28. See M. Vent ris. J. Cha.dwick. ~ mmiJ iJt ..t()unatmt. Gruii ( 1973) 479; E . Bmn~u. Tlv Oli.:.~ Oil Tt~Jitu-.{ Pyl.,, MiMJ SuppltrMnt 2 (1958> on fr 1220, Fr 1231; d. ,,,c: Fr. 1218, Fr 12.4-0. The Oipsioi :u the dead, W. C. K. Guthrie 8/CS 6 ( >959) '15: u ohe linJe genii ~·ho watu planu and bring libO'tions, S. Marinatos. Combrldp Collcquium 1m JI'I)U mlto.IJ SIINilM ( 1g66) 26~; on Oip~i :~. 3S, possibl}', Eart h or a cult tid e or earth , F. Adrados, Mini)J 9 (•g6B) 187. generating t he Thessalia.n month·n:ame Oi[ldiO:J. G . Zum.z, Pn;~,plton~ (197 1) 37ol., stresses the Egyptia.n :ma.Logies for the thint rxpn:s:sc:d on G«d< gol« note 33 b q""'" rOO. 09- 5<e no<e 144-. 69 bdow for the N•""'l and the frab w:uers or death: the drinking of the N and of lhc: dead 1~ oOt:n sh~'Tl in Egyptian funeral •rt, ::.c. N . Davies. ANimt ~ian P•inlillg (•936) II pl. 87 (T. or USt:thct, ·nu~bcs No. :>t); A. Piankoff, B. R~mbov:., £g~'jllin11 Htligitn~s T~x/1. 4md Repr~ MJtliOft~giurJ Pap;~ri I, St.ltkllillns II I ( 19.)7} 7 1 (The Book of the Delld of tho Lad y Cheritwebcshet); H. Kischkcwh"~., W. Forman, £D'/Jli4n Dutrri"'s ( 197<:1) pl . ~6. go. C. Long, 171, A,yi11 Tr14Jittt $47uJpltqgw ( 1974} with bi.bli.ography;cf. ~ilston., CCR J2 J. 117, 32tif.; At~ M.Ar..t 19 (rgo&) s--86; Eiuun. OpfmU.s # .. 416. 3'· K-B 5;>-;8. 32. Collected tocemf)•, N. Th6nges-Striog~ ri;s, .. Oa.s griechilc':hc Totenmllh1," A.M 8o (1g6.)) tf.; d'. H . von Pritz, AM ~47, 473; ) . Onltl.tr, ltwArrlt {197t} 2 15(. 33· N. Vee-delis, Efli•Artlt (1950-51} & , g8. T he idea pers.is'S iu t»odtrn c~ck, IU in A. Thumb, HffJfl)b«Jk qf 1114 MQrkt" Gruk Vtma(• rJqr (rgt:z) 215.7 ( P;wow 409), C..opynghted matenal NOTES TO pAGES 42-82 or in the ~uphemism "the thinty," of. 8c~«U• with hone burial, or horse f.l.cl'ificc, a pracd ce m ore c;omm(ln on Cypr~~..~ t han in C ree<:c; a recwt survey, H. Kassimntis. RD ,IC ( t9i:J}. " Oan:t_iden ," 950 (lkrnh.trd) ; F. Studniezka, 'fhe bull-sacrifice in the rMioJ at Al'khan~. I. S~kellaralds, PriJtttdi~tgs Q/ ~~~ Stwul CrtJ~J• Kymu ( 189o) 2,5; H arrison, Proiegomtru1 6 17, The..mis 5291 C . Robert, Di~ ,Nti:J·ia dr-S PoiJtn/11. l,otitlll Contms ( •g6U) 2 -14 ; dogs a t Arkbanes, (1Bg2) 62 ; A. Furtwlingl er~ Mnndm~r Studil11 PFo-Jc.tika •966 ( •968), 1;8; cf. Areha~qgr 20 (1909) ~76, .4.4 (t~)O) 24, Kl.tine Stllrift~IJ {J967) 2 78. T he major Myttnaean horse ( 1912- 13) Il.r26; for the Palermo le.kr th06, burials ;u·e a t /1lltmrtAon (:sec note ~ ) : 61gQII P:'l.lermo gg6, see Haspcb , ~1BL pl. 19 .!). ''O le ( 1958) 23f.; Vermcule. CDtl pl. ~7i Ntrupf/o-,~ Pr(IJJ(JitJ : V . Sta is, EphA1th {189.;} 206 ; Chr. \'4\SC$ a re a.n early ma nifestation of some confus ion between sinners (" Danaids " ) :\lld the T W lnHas :lJldJ. Manau, ilt~ A{>'ttrltUtw Uf()t/J uninitiated who suffe r torments of thin;l in { 189i) 152; ,\·{rrtmu•: Wace. Ch(lfl1/m- Tqmlu 4.1the undet•world, and " 'ho are so labeled in ,\ (Ytti'Uit ( 1932) 14: A.rgos: 8 CN 6o ( 19;16) 365 ; Polygnotos' Underv.'Or-ld painting ; see I . M . EJ~usi; : ( ?)A. Sl::ias, EphA1(h (•896) 89. Cf. Linforth, "Soul a.~td Sieve in Plato's G'()rgitu," also R . Forter, " Les chars cuhudles preUni''"Jit:f tif Co.liftJr-nia Publit:oli(IJIS ;, ClaJSi(.o/ h istoriqucs, " PdAistuirt I ( 1932) 18; H . PJUJ~ uno. 17 ( 1944) ::gsf.; ~'1. Robertson, Mctrom~$ h is sometimes th ought that terracou a of Orpheus and Mou.:saios to believt.N. and a nimals in tombs were &ubstitutc:s for real how t he unjwt are buried in mud, carr)·ing animals killed along with the dead, but th c.:.-·y water in sieves, Rtpublic 363 d , c; these a re arc far mol'e numetOu.s and or a wider range th e unjut;t of both se:tc-.s, and t he O;:m aids are than e:S R6UgionJ ( 1905-1t2) If, 193, E. R. Dodds, include cattle, h(lrsc. goat, s.http, stag:, dog, P/aJQ, Ctwgilrs (19.59} 372f. ; mal~ are oon- bo:u· ~od J>ig, bear and bitd, and wcte joined d em.nc:d to bale rhe leak y pith(l$ in Xenophon, br beds. c::hair:s omd bo"ts; E. fTtfleh, BSA 66 Oiktmumi.lw.J V f LJO. T h e o ld Hometie refct· ( •97 •} IS4f. . euc""ll to the plut i, hment of the d ead are \'ague 3i · /U'ad XXITI.~t-3• Otb'SII;)' xx i\'.7] w ith and concern breakers of oaths ( 11 1.~79• Antil(lChO$ SC:J>.arate in tlle same tumulu.s; XLX.259) ; con$id c:ring t he U$U:tl Ho m eric t his poetic union of fl'iends in death is no• fc.ars (chapter 3 p. 11o) weia) a lienat ion would continued in m~' th or a.rt; Achilles' cumulus $' " mound buil t while Achilles still livr.d. cf. K . Friis Cttrritu in Nadt..s (•!:li4).) 35· t\ . Furumark, The MJU!l~ 36. For 3nim.als in tombs in general, Wil"3ner, Grnil UJUl ] t:mtiU 135f., 153f. ; che bat at Dendr.t, 6. Sc;:hweilzct, Cm:.mou g ( •933) r8o ; for wild go;!. IS and sl~, below note ,$2; birds ;u ,\ig.ina, A. Kc:rnntopoullos, Eplulrth { 1910) ~07 i b uri.al.s :tt Per:u i included shct-J>, birds, and a d og, S . ):1kovid~."S, Pnali 8 ( 1970) 32, 33, 46. 52, 591 86, 4& .: a whole ox at Pylos) Kephalovry1i T omb 'l, F.rgon ( 1 9(~) 79, 8 1; gc.n er.al d4c::-us:s-iou.s in J. L. lkn50n, Nrm~. Bird, Mnu { 1970) 'lOf., G . ~·t ylona.,, A·~JWI(.It nrtt1 the MJwmut/1 Agt (1g65) 11 6f., Andron.ikos1 TqfmkuJJ 84f. MO$-t ~re r.onc:erned 38. The t~ubjcct w ;\:1 cl.:~.boz·~ted in J. Kak· ridis! Homerie Ruea_rdui ('9•19) 73f. ; cf. chapter 5 notC'S 8) 35· 39• Tht BflsltJn GIMJe. ~5 Fe hrll;,.ry '9i4· 40. For t he t hem e;:~ and funet iOilS of picto· rial kmtcr:s $1!C among others Vermeule, ]HS 8.:; ( 1965) t Copyrighted material 227 NOTES TO PAGES 42- 82 funerary, or in funeral cnntexts, even in Cyprus, and on the mainland more than half a re not from tOmbs, where the context i, known. 4 1. The pig with a soul at Odys~Q xiv.426 i11 notorious: usually a slain animal has only it$ tltumtJ.' to los.c. T h e problem of Orion's h erding b efore h im ill the under'\...-or1d the d<.::ld ~nimsb he bas killed in tl1e hills, !'0.572~ or H era_kle.' hunting st:UlCC, xL6o7, which exercised the $c;holia.st.s, iJ of course quite separate from the problem of Greek belief; these pieturet are literary impressions, like Pindar•s hones (fr . 114) or t he lives of the swan, the nightingale, or the lion! eagle, and monkey lying around in Ilfato's MJ•lh of Er for men lO ch(I()S.C_ (Rrpublic X. 6~o) . Most Greeks, eb en ;uld now, WQuld not even have oo!U-idc:red an animal's eh;anc;t'$ of aJterliiC.. a lthough ch ey provided a U!icful form:il cle· mcnt in theories of mel('m[»ycb0$i.'l. 42· The three·legged bOI'$C burial at Mara· thou! S . J..larinat~ Prq.ktikn (1970) 1 t, pl. 15, and in R. Cros.1land and A. Bir<:hnll, 8ron.u Agt Migr4tit»U (1974) 111, pll. 13, 14. It is nOt clear fl.'()m The reports wheth er the horse was missing one leg, whether it had been $i'l.Cri6cW in some way before burial, or whether the leg was lost in $Ome mon.: recent accident. \Vhile t he Marathon horse had raised hopcs tOr extending the Ccnnan tradicion or the t hree-legged death horse, with its uneven menacing gait~ ba.ck:ward i.uto pre· history (cf. L. Mahen, "OM Pfel'd im Toten· glaube," Jdl 29 (1914] 2 10- 11), the ei.giH· yc.ar-old Pn:ew.ah.'ki dC><:$ not illuminate sacl'i6ce very much. Most hones buried with aristocrau are intact, companion$ or chariot· drawers, not eaten ; and even in the fantas i('$ of f\hr)' Renault, the K ing Uorse's legs arc not rerno\'Cd wi1h his life (TM JCing }1'/usl /)U, 11) . The team butied in Lhc dtum()S of t he Marathon thoWJ 'omb (the cl~adot was not found), Ergf1n (r9:;8) 23; Prtrktika ( 1958) 15, pl. 17; Vermeulc; CBA pl. 47 B, 349 note 6. Horse and ch.ariot burials at Salamis and O ld Paphos in Cyprus, ('. Oikaios, " A 'Royoll' 'fomb at Salamis," IIA ( 1963) 126; V, Karageorghis, Salamir: Ntffcpt>liJ I ( 1967) 11 7f ..; Salmr1is ( 196g) sot".; Cyprus ( 1969) l ;)lf.; "Une Tombe de G uerrier a PalaepaJ)hos," BCH 87 ( •96:1) •9·1; BCH9• ( •g6• ) 331· At Cordion in ,\Mtoli;a there 3-re JSiighlly earlier bone burials OUt$ide the chamber or Tumulus K )', ncar roof level, pro\'iding a link with Scythian horse buriah and the Kimmerians (R. S. Young, AJ.~ 6o (<9~6) oliO). On hoNe S."l.cri6en to riven ( f/iq.lf XXI.132, Herodotu:s lV.61, VII.113, and, surely! l.189) E. Oclebecquc; Le Chn:al dmu· l'lli4<14 ( 195 t} 239f., and J. C . Frazer, Pau.sani4s Vlll.7.2; P. Stengel, Philologw 39 ( rSSo) 182; and on " going home" widt hones, D. Frame,, Now ( 1970). l11e lndo·European rite discU1'!1cd recently in J. Puhvd, "A$1)CC1:S of Eq t~jn e f wtc-tionality," MJ•Ih and Law Among the /ltl)()o EuriJjMOnJ ( •970) ' !>9· cr. also M. Octienne in J. P. Vemant, Pro9Url1lJ dt la Gume trl Grltt O!it"ierme (1968) 313; D. Ounha..m., EJ KuTTU ( 1950) 110f. 43· K. t\'leuli, Do &rilthist.Ju AgM ( 1968), .. Oer Unprur\g der olyntpi:schcr Spicle," Antik. 1 i ( 1941) 18gf.; L . Ma.lten, '' Leicher\· spiel und Totenkuh," RJr~\1 38/39 ( 1 9~3/4) aoor. Boxers on Mycenaean (funen,l) v:»n: BM C333, 334, 335 (CVA G t. Britain. pl. 23. 15, t8), Picrides 35 (CV,t Cyprus pl. 42), Kit ion 14{'2.p8 (BCH 95 (197 1) 305 6g. 94) ; non· runer;u:y. M)·Cen.:u:·Athens NM 1272 (Fun wiingler-Loeschk(:., A·~rl;.miuhe l'astn [1886) pl. XLI.426) ; Go-~23 (W. Taylc.ur, irt E. L. Bennett, Tlt1 A1)un(J.t T(lh/ets III. TAPS 5~·7 ( •963'1 +I llg. g •). 44· Prob:l.bl)' completed when flesh and ligament~ :t.re ~b$Oiutel)' eon·uptcd a nd dl$ rolved, a condition wh.ich may t.ake three to SC\'en years depending on soil condi t ion:~. I n Orthodox practice t he skull may be ren\0\' td to a chapel a fter three years. 4!>· Fol' Mycenaean mourning women on bowb, S. Jakovi d~, AJ.4 70 ( 1966) ; of t he detached a rchaic $')ccime.n.s, the "l'hera examples ;ue most ell>:gant, H . v. Cacrtri.ngcn, H. Dragc:ndorff, Thera It (1903) 2.~ lig. 57, N. Kontolcon. :4t11Miu 73 ( 1!)58) 119, 1~7; in Athens~ on a loutrophor~ hydria, Dtltirm 19 (1g64-) b, p1. 37, K B pl. 13i on " t refoil jug with snake11 and flowers., Kuomtikw Vl.2, 456f.• K-B pl. 14; on a bowl, Kmmuikos Vl.2 1 soot'.• K-B J)l, 15. for gaming-boards with mou.nu:rs., nou.: i S below. 4f). E.g. T. StJ)'tOJ)Oulo~, PraktiJ.·a ( •969) pll. ' ""Lii ( 1970) 29-36 lig. 48a; {1971) pU. 3- 21 _; EtgM ( 1970) Ag. 1;; C01maimmer. dtt Att.J (April1971) 72- 77; tfu!Jq.rology2!J ( 1972) 2o6f. T he Boston loutrophoros-hydria (24.l51) mOiST ~cem l r in CVA Boston 2, pl. 6;. 47· E.g . the M)'Cenaean kr;•tcr rrom 4 4 4 Copyrighted material NOTES TO P AGES 42-82 Cyprus on which the dead man steers the griiUJl of bi.s chariot b)' t he tail1 BM C 397: Enkomi T . 48, SM Cal flam i, 8o, CVA pl. 7. 1, S. lmm c~rwahr, Ardu:~logy 13 { 1960) 1'2 fig. 15 . R.. H iggins, M imxm am/ ,},1.JUtltuan .4 rl (1 9&7) fig. '31 · For griffin nnd wild-goat teAntJ on th e. Haghis Triada sarcophagus and related irnag..:'$, note 30 above. 'l"hc upper panel on one end of the s,"l,r<.:oph ;~.gl•$ is $Cidom disa cussed- an cs.con on foot? An ;ma logous scene in the upper register of th e funerary Painted S tde !'r om ·C\,lyc.enac may have a J.e3tcd female receiving the walkers, Jike a "P.-n;ephone .. with \'i.'liton. 48. Myc<: nac~m boot$, Vou.IA (Al )•kc), J. Papadcmctriou, Ergon {1955} 24 ..25; S. Mat•in~uos, Cutr dnd J\'{rwuu ( 1960) 236. For H iu ite model boots, K. Bittel, ''Vor-Jalifl.ger lkricl1t ... BogaxkUy," MDOC 73 ( 1935) 2-4 figs. ' 4 ""1.), ii ( 1939) aof.; :\1\d th e insuuetiOll to the messenger god Jmbaluri$, "T3_ke s taff in han d and put swift shoes on l hy [feet]'' A.NEJ2 1'1"!2. Stt N. CiaJouris~ "fl1'tp/>tl•ra w($l.\a," BCH fJ ( 1953) 293. ·me potent shoes ora m~enger ot t r:welcr are a natural idea, and for long journeys one would prefer bOOtl5 to sandals. The Homeric picture, or Hen:m.-s who JS?o sole. 11ac Gtcek c:t:un plts are CeometJ·ie or :trcl1aic; Elcus.is, b"pJr.4rdt r8g8, pl. +• 4; Athens, R , Young, Hupia r8 (1949) >187-88, 296 fig. , ~, pl. 6;, 22- 23, pl. 70; cf. Ht-~peri<~ 'l ( 1933) 553, fig. 11 . 6 figs. 20. 12; K-8 pl. 8; Kmmui!Ms V, J, 1:81f. pl. 29, }dl 7J ( 19fl2) IO'J'; Dt.lticm ( r¢+) B. 54f. pl. 49 c., d ; Corill· thia, H . P..ayn~~. PtradwrD I ( 19¥') 18G pl. 8:;; S. Marinatos, .4rrhH()rrt A (1g6J) pl. VI, Cr~lr. and li.I.JUI'Irtl ( 1960) 236; fo r th e meaning, Wiesnt'r, Grab uml Jenu:ils '21 o. The South Italian sarcophagus, K-B 212, fig. 4'2, Hellenistic from Rhegi on~ NSc. ( 1957) 366 fig. 22. 49· T he Mycenaean ''psyc.bc,'' Vermeule, )NS 65 ( 1963) 146t CaJologur tlj tht LuJIL'ig Co/JutUm ( 1g68} g; the modeled soul-birds (before) , 'f. Sp>•ropou1os, AA.-t HI ( 1970) 190 fig. 8; afte-r, C01mai.utVttt drs Arts (April 19·71) '}fi. r,o. T he intCI'C$ting coffins from. Arrncnoi (Reth ymno), now in th e C hani.a M~.J.Seum, were d il5cu:.-scd briefly b>· 1. T'lcdakis• ..tAA IV ( 197 1) ·.H6f., with color plates, The ensc:mble includt'S bulb walking among religious symbols or being spear«l, d eer, birds, marine ani.mals, and a goddds with lifted arms (T.24 no. 2). See !lor e~ ~. 51 . T he studiC$ of Mino:m ide-as of the afterlife were generally undenakcn be.fore the coffi.ns l\J)pear ed or were studied, ;md a.re hmed on some misapprehensioru. as in A. Evans, Tht Palau of Mi110s fll ( 1930) 14.)f., on the forged. u Ring or Nest or " and t he tree of Paradi:~e. The notion of a Crettm paradise o..-er.SCCI$, like ElYJion (note s8). h.u much to commend it imagin ativdy, but it is a main ly literal)' notion, documented b>' a ftw gold r'ings w ith shipi, shiJl!l on a few collins, l he "Minoan" marne of Rh;,dam;mthys, an instinctive link between C rete and Phac-ada) some gard en imagery common to LM I A frescoes and poetk ideas of Elysion, and the real possibility that some important Mil'loan.s were: buric.:d at 11ea (to account for the lack of royal buri ,.ls)~ and Theseus' plunge into a gnac:ious sea-palace i.n a Cretan context (Bolcchylidts XVII, 63f.). Cf. L. Mahen, "EJys.ion und Rh.adamanthys," }dl >28 ( 1913) 3.;1'. ; L. fladermachcr, Das ]tJUtitJ im M)•IMs dn Hlll~nm ( 1903) ; ~,t. P. Niluon, MMR 2 6>11f.; S. 1\brin:noo, BCH !>1 ( 1933) 2::17, and Tht ~\~y,tiUttaNJ in tht &sttro MtdiltrrantiUl ( 1973) 3f.; A. W. Persson, Prthist()tit Rtligi0t1 Bo.f.; for "pre-C«:ek •• Rh:td:una.nthy:s, V . Ci01'gicv in R . CroftJand and A. Birchall, Bt()lt~e Agt .MigralifJns 243, N:-butul b)' J. C hadwick, '2s.J. T he l>e11t ship la.roa x, S. Alc:xiou, EpltA.rdt {1972) pl. 34 (from Ga'ti) ; dolphin coffin-lid , C. Mavri)•annaki, Ruhtrtht..s sur It-S Lamaku ( 1972) pl. 12; the common fish , dolphillS, octopods, waves, birds and plant! on Cretan collim; witn en to an c~xlc:n . sh·e and commonlr $harcd i (ll3ge~y. !J:l. Tanagra go!'lt5, AAA Ill ( tg;o) 191)97: Pyl0:5 (K ephalovr~i}, a n (l.'ll:, £rgon {t gfi4) ;g-.81, ( Koukounara) half u tag, Ergon (1!)63) So. 53· M . Dclcourt, Ltgrruii'S II c.u/tts de ltltM Crtu ( 1942) ~; C. Cerma.in , Cmi.u d4 I'Od)•ssh (19.)4) 383; sec below chapter 5 note 4 t on sphin.:<es. 54· Alexiou, /ArfWil 1 ~ 1 (from O lympia); LMgrnphia ( t912-13) 183. 55· The Egyptian evidence is 150 large, and, bec-•ms.c- of iu O\\'n consi:stenC)' and a uthority. onlr periphera11y fi: levant to the G r«:k theme, only a sdection of useful texts can be: menlioned. For rela tions between C reccc and tit Copyrighted material NOTES TO PAGES 42-82 tgypt in th e Bronze Age see V. Hankey, P. Warren, IJJCS 2 1 ( 1974) 142, with bib1iogrnphy; after the Oark Ages, J. Ooard_man, Tht Cruh Oc~ut«J ( 19f,.._) ' 3i· Gl:1.leral book$ on E@:YJ>ti.an funerary rmu::tice, belief, iltust r.uioru and texts: M. M. Ahdul-Quadar, Tlte Du:tJoJ;mtnt if Ftmtrory IJtli~fs aud PYan d~.r /tgypta'J. {1934); E. Horntmg. AtGJptiJeht Untrn.tv:ltJ.Mch" ( 1972}; A. H . Gardiner. "The Attitude of aoc-ient F.g)'J)Ii""' to de~'\th 11nd 1he d e;~d," Frn;:a /..aturt ( 1935) ; G. j(:qnier 1 ComidirotionJ Jut ~· Rtli~i(IJJ$ /;g,ptiumtJ (1946) ; H. Ke~, Tolt'-~tf:loubm umi }tltstitsr;(lTsl/llUIIgm dtr Altn ~r!J'fJit¥2 ( 1956); L. Lt:;ko, "111r E.f)'JIIian Book qf Tu;~ Wa;·s ( t9?'l) ; S . Morcmz, EfP'jllitm R.tligi(Jn ( 1973); A. Piankorr. R. R:ill'lbo\·a, Et,rptiatt fl.tligious T~-xtJ ami Rrprru ntatirms It ( 195 7} ; J. Vandier, LA rt1igj"QII lgJ'ftlirnne ( 19+9). Mtmwl d 'arddo· logit II {1959) ; R. WeiU1 Le ~hamp det r~umc.t tt It t!tamp des ~1-Mdr.s ( 1936) ; .J. Zandte1 Dtu/Jr r.u un E~Un!J ( rg6o) . l~or Egypt a nd M)·ccnae, E. V.:.nneule • .4rt ~ lhr Slltifl CrtWU W Myunru ( t9;5) 18f.; lOr Egyp1 and the Odyss-ey, W.lhlrken. Grii;,u B~ilrfigt 1 ( 1973) 6gf., "Das hunderttorige Tl1c:ben," Witl'ttt Studim n.s. 10 {1976) !)1'.; .J. Boardmom, Tkt Gru:ks Omstni ( tg6 .•) , thought Eg)•pti.an inf1m:n<:e on Cr<:ck teligion rcls.dvely slight, moen intense 66o-525 o.c. (pl. ga~ the archaic Grt:ck j'lr<>th C$iJ liCCnc in t he Monuary Temple of Sahurc at Abusir; fig. 47a, Creek obeisance before a mummy) ; but !Strong connectiorU in iconography '" well :\S id\."US arc O'plored by J, L. Benson, Horse. Bird, Man (1970) 90f.; strong Egyptian linb were a lways .ti{•· s { 1973) 355f. 57. For Charon's late appe-arance in Greece 1 note 'J• The ferryman of the dead see chapter i,s familiar in Egyptian tr adition, a,s in the Book of the Dead ch. 99: 0 thou wl10 brinp the ferty boat from deep over 1-·l)o OOd s!.oal, Bring 1»e tbc fttt)' boat,a.tt.ath for me: the: tow rope:, in peace:, in peace. 0 Lord of red linen, ~·ho concro\lest heam_,0 lord of r.torm. T. C . Allen, Tl!t lmk. if tilL Dl'dd ( 196o) T he lord is Seth; if Charon is a figure bor· rowed from ~}'J)I (~uld a C reek ccymology. ... derivation from xdp~, is inc::n:asiugly doubted) his name may come from the boat, not the bootmnn; ye1 the derivation from qQro. "boat," boac of the sun of the dead (adopted b>' C . Cermain. G~nh1 de I'Od:tssh [1954}3~9 n. 1 from A. ~·foret, &iJ et dU~rx d'£s:,ptt ( 1925]) is philological!)' unpromising, Late Egyptian k1, a small boat, fuherboatt is not promising either, according to E. Brovarski, Museum ol' f ine Arts, Boston, and D. Larkin, University of C31iforni.a, l}crkeley; cf. A . Bn.•g;wh, HUrog{yjJhi.J~h·demoti~clrel Wirtubll4'11 ( t867- fn) 1466; A. Erman, H. Grapow, W6rterb"c.h d,_, ,Tgyptiuhe Sprache V, •34~ 14- 15, It may.. however.- have been a word used in arc.haie- Nat1kratis. For the moment, the oonne<:tion. for Creek ot Euuscan Charu(n), has not l)CCO made;. T he I I'MI$.fe n .>:rl ¢C. or other tg-ypti01n figures to the Etrusc:;;;,n world i ~ freshly dOGl.l.mented by the Anubis in a Troil~ .scc:ne in the .-\$tarit:.\ Collection at ch e Vatican, M. Schmidt, .. Ein iig)'p1ischer Dimon in Etruricn," ZAtS 97 ( 1971) 116f.; d'. K. Schauenburg, )dl 85 { 1970) 68r. ('11lc fen;·· m:m or Egn>t, like t he <me of the Nc;~r E-:l$t and H a des in G rt;ec:e, "Lm·n~ hQ f:lCe bad:• wa•'ti,'' cr. A.N£T:l 3'l8, " with h~ OOliC behind him and his fa«. rc:vcned "; so that he: cannot e>•c t he vulner~bJc li"·ing, a., 01'pheus should not hnve looked at the dead.) It hall oft en seemed curious that af1er th e use of the word £.1~"lion in Od. h•.s36 it does not recur in Literature until ApoUonios of Rhodes {Artt»Ututk4 4.81t) . The normal s8. s.tchaic and clru.<~ical exprt:S..'IIon for J>aradise is ls.lcs or cbe Blest.. The b lcs may l,e qt•jte separ11te, in the minch of th~e few who thought about thern. from the f.J~ian Field. 'H>..JrnQl' ·7tc"8w••, which i~: a mc.'1ldow (.\(lf«.J.,) in l.u<:ia.n, 01' a xWpos, but not neee:»a.rily an i.dand. Howe"er, the .-.:lation t() t~l u Fic!d(s}, like Champ(s)· f:.l)'stt!l is more curious, when the expression occun in two poems where Copyrighted material NOTES TO PAGES 42-82 interest in Egypt is marked. j. Puh\tel would prefer as a source a Hittite meadow·wotcl, neuter wtJ/u (U·SAt., Akk. wu//u), used (uner:u-ily when th e s un-s:od makes a meadow (or t.he dead king, ... Meadows of the Otherwotld' in Indo-European Tradition," ~eitschrift /iir Vtrgleitlu.ruJ4 Sprathjtmdumg 83 ( 19fi9) f4-6g; J owe t hi' refettncc wjohn Dillon. However, there are philolo.gic:'ll obuacl~ there 3S well; Hittite i.uAuenee in the Od_ruey &etm:s ne.gli· gible compared to 1h e author's fascination with Egypt; tbe Hiuite does not bring with it th e otber a$ptel$ of the Ialu l~ields which mark the Greek hies of the Bh~$f1 from brt."(;Zt to wh("at. On thi..s topic .ste among others, Rohde, P$)d;.e 68(., 36gf.; Oi~eric;h, Nekyill" :nf.; RE V, 2470 (Waser); L. Malten, "Blysion und Rbadamanthys, " ]dl 28 ( 1913) 35f. ; N il~n, Mlt.fR'l 62:,(.; P. Capelle, " E·l)'"S.ion und Inseln dcr Seliger... ArdlfRe.l 25 (1927) ~45-64, 26 ( ag..:t8) 17- 40; A. 0. N<> 62. I learned chj$ connection from the Late William Stevenson Smith of th-e Museum of Fine Arts, Boston; cf. B. Hemmerdingcr, "Noms communs grtts d'origine Cgyptien.ne, '' CWua 46 { rg68) 238f.; but the equation is dismi~d w ith oootempt by R. Pierce. "Egyptian Loan-\\'ord'l in Ancient Greek," S.]T1th0sJ 46 (1971) 105. Cf. Vermeulc, Arclt H()m V ( 1974) 126j A. Krapp<:, &!•PM/ 66 (1940) 2.4 ~; Frisk, W6-rt.trbu;;lt II, 162f. 63. Aristophanes Cr. 488, to; "Plato, a. lAws 947e; some confusion in IC J i ro85,ls .iltBa ICG.Tifla 11cluw p.oxaptaT"ci<; ~ lv9o.,. 6.J. £. Doisacq, DicliM~wiu ll)'nf()/ogiqw (1938) s.v. {thou.gh he connoc.ted i t to p.Eya.s and grandeur). 6;. T . G. Allen, The ED~t;an Book ~ tlu Dtad ( tg6o) tilt, Ch. 110. E. Bro\'l'll'$lti of the !\·lusew:n of Fine Arts, Bosron, tellt~ me that the uncertain islands ouy be the .. 1.-ady of Two L<'nd:s" (from the Coffin T e:-r.es) and the .. King of the Sea''j the)"· lie beyond the Lake of che Hippopotamus which is one thousand lca.gues long a.nd of untold breadth, containing no ftSh, t~r\akC$ Or plants) that ~ no life. 66. Good typical picturn in the Tomb of Sc:-JlJ.ledjem at T hebes, J. Capa.rt, M. Werbrouck, Thebes (192.6) 32.9, 334j E. W. Budge, The Pap;ru.t of Ani (•B!J4) pll. 7, 1o; K . Sccle, The Tomb qf Tja11t.ftT at TJube.s ( 19~9) pl. '5· P. A. A, Boeser. Ag,yniuhe Sammlung d&s , , , Niufnlmtdiuhe Reidwrru.st~I.I'TIS der AltertiJI'IVI" in Leitfrn, IV { 191 1) pl. XU (G rave of Pa-aten· em-heb, second register); Mtdt'ntt 1/abu VI (Orienta) Institute Publications 64 (1g63]) pl. 46g. 67. 'fhc ·w hite Island {near Sigcion.? io the Emdne?) in T"l..ttzes Sdwl. LJ"· 174 (from lb)·kos? Simonides?) ; <:f. ApoUonios Rhod.ios IV.8tO, Quintt1s Smyrnaeus. P()tl/wmtrit-4111. 527, 766-87, Pausanias III. tg. tt-t3 i Pbilostratos., Hmila XX.g,2-40, ApoUodoros, Epiu,mt. V.5-with H elen? or Medea? or i.n ot her moods, Antiloch.os ? 68. :\poUodo~, Epil4me 11.1 cf. Frazer ad bN. ; ArchHochosss D. ; Schol. Pi.ndar Olympiatt l.ss. 6o, lsthmiM VJII.to; Euripides, Onsus 4- 1o; Plato~ Krat.)los 395 d-e; Lucian, Dialogues of the Dtad 17; Pausanias X.31.1o. Sopbokl("j' lost Tr.mtaf()s only hides him dead under the earth (N 3 ~t8). Both mylbical vel'$iOrlJ concribute to the pun on Ta!ltalos I Tama.hL, Tahmta, the swaying :scales. For the i.mportance to the Egyptlan.s of water and fruit in the underworld. cf. K . S«Je, TN Tomb tJj' Tjmtiftr at TMlw {Oriental hutitutc Publications 86 [ 19.)9]); J. Capan, M . 'Wer-brouck, 'rhrbu ( 192.)) (U11erhet) 341 fig. 2.1-;; from Abwir, G. 1310 B.c. (Kestner Museum, Hanovt.r), the priot Nia..ii and his wife getting food and drink from the tree-goddess; I. Woldering. God.$, Men arul Phar40hs (1967) pl. go. 6g. L. V. :Zab""'• A $1U<{y 'If th< 8• C"'up< in A.ncWtl Egyptian Tats (1968) ; for the ba Copyrighted material NoT ES TO PAGES 4 2 - 82 flying down the tomb-shaft, pl. 5 nnd T. 0C\'C:ria, P. Picm::t, LL- Pap)'fld rft NdJ-qM (J8i2) p1. g, H. Bonnct1 Rea/JtxiMn du O'g . .&ligionsguthid!lt s.v. ba, J. Vand.icr, La r~ligion lf)Jifinmr. ( 1949) 13 1 ; Book pauim, .-nd chapter 5 p. 16g. R . B:trtteu•s ingeuiouJ llug&t'$1ion dmt 1he Jn)'lh of t h~_: harpies a t the feast of Phineus may come u ltimately f1·om Urartu and king U!pina, Upuini§, along with the importation into t he Greek world of U rartu bron.zc ca1.1 ldrons with "$.irtl\ •• ;auachmenl.$ (in S . \ Vein berg, c:d., TJ~ Atgenn nndt)u .Nl4T & .fl1 Studiu P n .letlltJ If) HtllJ GQ/Jman ( 1956) 23 1) i.s attracti\·e; yet the Egyptian claim seems n rong(.r whc.J.l viewed in connection with a ll the other funCI'lU1' clement:~ . 1'hc: ICmate.hcaded b itd was alt"ead)· known in rhc Acge:, n. world (~;.g . the Zakro " eaglo-wom.en." D. Hoganh. JHS 22 {1902] pll. VI, VII) . 70. Cf. £. WUst. "Oic Seelcnwagung io Acg}'JHCrt,'' Ardif1Mig. 36 ( 1939) ; M. Nib,on1 MMR 2 34 wi•h bibliography. BLrmd ( 1933) 29f.; S« al.w chapter 5 note ~2. 71. H. Otten, H~thifisehe Tottr~tituole (n. '27), 13 (day I I and OthC.I' d:ly:t Of t he fttn<:ta.( rite) . Why scaJes \\'ere rclath ·cly common in rich burials of the e:i.l'ly Mrccn.acan age, a nd ra.te: later, i:~ puulirlg. Often only the t;c;,Jepan:s t;urvivt', hnrd to d istinguish from bronze disc mirrors. Those known to me include Argos (Deiras T.24~ ]NS Anltalologiut/ &pqru 195!H)) ; Ddfldro (A. Pe1'1:1on, _:r.;r.,, TombJ at Dmdra (1942) 7'2 C.86, T .ro); KnQsUJJ (BSA XXVI II [ 1~6-27] 253, Mavro Spelioj A. Ewns, ~Pair"' 4/ Mi,~os ll.ss6, fll. 151); A·~)unae {SJusft Crm:tJ, 3 pain, Karo, Sduulllgr/Jhn pl. 3-Ji A.J. B. Wacc~ C114.rlllw TombJ al A·{runat (193'2) 1!)01 n. 51 J>l. 29:20, T . 5 15); M,YIJinothorion·RuLii (Prnl;.tikn [ 1956) 205); PrfMJmna (C. W. Blc.:gen, PrQ.Q'mM {1937) 351 f. 1'11.2, 25, '26, 43, 4-t) ; PJI~s (C . W. Blegen et ol., l;rl(J.S lll [ 19H) 158, 168: fil;ll. ~2; : to, 230: 7) and 11op}t~io (five pail'S) Chr. T sount::u, EfJiufrtA { 1889) pl. 8 : 4; 7?u MJ"C.I'1.0um .-tge ( 1897} 1.1+ 7~. for ·clru3ica l J~.f)'&ho~tasiol 11ee chapter 5 note '2473· For ancient g-.:amc; ~e tllpecially R. Austin, .. Greek Bo;&rd-Gam c;/' .dnliqui{Y 14 ( 1940) ~63 ; H. J. R.. MurDy, A N isiQf'y of &orr! GarMS Oll~.tr than Cluu (1952), in both of which the ancient $01.JJ'Ce& :.ue c;;ited (e.g. Pollux1 Onom(l#i.tM JX.9;.8). :t.nd tl.$<:ful a n idc:s in RE (Lamer, " Lusoria T abula'" [ t972)) and Oaremberg-Saglio (Latrunculi and Ltl:sori;t T;,bula) . Murra)' dis-putes that the Kn~sos board is ev~;~l a gam(:, but R . Brumbaugh (AJA 79 (1975)) takes i1 :\!:1 A vfl l'i:u n Orl the U1· boa(d (I... WooU<:y, Ur E.wf:t'uli~ru I (1934.) ~76-78, 11 pis. 95•98), ahhough du11er, without a river . See also BSA V fl ( 1900... 1) 77..a2, A . f.:vans, Tit~ Paltree of iHinos I ( 192 1) 4 ; zf.; the Shart G rave d1-aug:ht-boar'Cl i~ so iJlcomplere nothi•lg t:'l•·• be said or it ( Karo, StltJ.t(lttgrUbtr 115, nos. 55!h !>5(;, !•56). 'l'he Enkorni box (J. Ridgew:a~·1 ] HS 16 [ 189<)} '286) .s.t.·t.ms a varian t on the f.g}'p-l i<'J'I St1t. C. J. Gadd, "Babylonian Chess.," l mq 8 (19•H) 66, W. K. Pritc.h eu~ '"five Lines and JC J2 324," Colifornio ClaJSirQJ ,\'tuf!it.f I ( 1968) 187 \\'ith bib1iogr:tr>h>· ;J . O. Jkaz.k)', C-B Ill, no. 11 .• (Bostoll 01.8037) 1 Dc;.'t/opme.rtt 65, n3; F. Hall~C( in F-R. Ill 6,!)- :;z; A. Nenrichs, ZPE 8 ( r9;1 ) 1L, who n:fe~ to M . N. K okola.kcs, MOTplwl.ogin ti.s Kub Copyrighted material VI.1.87, Vl.2mcnt and tac.tiQ thOln T he die (showing Pala.mede11 ?} b)' th e R~m on the pleasure h gave 1he 1>anicipanu. Dejug Painter is one of a group ofvotives on 1he taiU of formulak baule scent.-s best in W.-H. Athenian At;ropoli$, obviou~ly not funerary, l~"riedrich, l··f-nc,-urulllng ulfd ToJ, AMCUttirt,f~ll but conne<;ted iu perhaps a ~imilar wa)' with 38 ( 1956) . a nd 8. Fenik, T,ypi&al Bault &~u.s the ups and downs of IOrtune, and the un- in 11/e Iliad, JJmnu Eb•uiMhrijkn 'll ( 1968) ; predictable favor of the gods:; C-L 1.259; nn. ~ abo t he Bibliography p. 266. T he roiliuary 26g5 (sirens, one with lyre, truln and owl, lion, delight of t he hc;ro is ~)rese nted vividly in Chimaira, wor:nen) , 26~ (bird), 269i (horse· C. M. Bowra•s "The Greek Heroic Age," in man), 2698 (boy running) , 2699 (horseman) , C. Kirk (ed.) .. lAnguage nr:J Bruk&roum18j'Homn 2700 (Silen and main:'td) ; 2i03 is gaming ( tg64-) ; A. Se\'cryns1 H()mt.re III ( 19.1.8) 100f. ; pieces made of discarded sh erd.,. C. Kirk, TAt SMgs of 11mntr ( t!)6:z) 3¥t (" It See :t.bo, in Heidelberg, H. Gropengiess.er, W:tS not ju:~ t 0 1\ c .si nger, Homer, who thought CV.-1 4• 16, pl. 141 , 11; f. HUlsen1 R6mMitl 19 up :.\II tiiC$4: diffc~em deaths; though it could (1904) '+5; Copenhagen, N. Dreitc.nstcin . be thM he first u.sed them in !ucla f)I'Ofus.:ion Cot. Ttrracottas ( 1941) 19, pl. 19. 171; K cra - aod v:t.riety and 3~ a deliberate stylistic meikot, Ktramti.ktJs V I.1, So, V I.2, 5 14-o pl. 102 elc;ment") ; d'. " Wa•· and the \Varrior,'' in (h orse); Srau.ron, Ergon ( 19.53) 20 fig. 22; J. P. Vernant, /'r()b/inus de Ia Gut-m t.n Griu t.eukandi, M. Popham :.nd L. H. S3.Ckcu, Mci.anu ( tg69). C. Munay1 Tit' Riu. of the E,x,or·ntians al Uuka11di ( 1968} 3~ fig. 81; Pcra- Cr«k Et1ic ( 193i) 52f. oller'S a reeonstructjon: chora, T. J. Ounbabin et al.: Pmuhqra 11 " The d ead men otre lyi11g :~. 11 :~.bout uJ. We (1g62) pl. 13-l-33; P. Wolters1 ll·[im,hner will Aing t hem into the $COl. tomorrow. The Jallrbuell fiit biU'f~,·U•1 Kunst 8 ( ISII ;J) 9 1; C. women are suitabJr tied up and gua.rded . The Blinkc.nberg, AM 23 ( 1898) 1; RE X III, old one who kept sh.riekil1g curses has boon 1996f.; W. Oeonna) U mobilirr J;u,,, Dilos ,;piked \\•ith a lance a nd toSsed ov<:r the: diff. XVJJI (1938) 337, fig. 424; C. Rolley, CQ/1«· Tt1e w-:tiling and sobbing of t he rest wiU stop tUm H . StaJittJI(JJ 111 (191)3) 119 tig. 5~> on the in ;, day (Jr t'''o . .. "; cf. F.J. 'f ritsch, " 'f he Aias and Achilles scene. CB Ill, no. 114. 'Snckcr$ of Cities '," in R. A . Croo.~land, A. The them<'$ of bird,, horses, riden and sirens Oir<:hall. 8ron.u .4ge :ltfigrotiun.r i11 r.kr ."ftgum are all those of ftme•'tlls, and the " inventor/' ( 1974) :Z:l3"'39• P. Oucn.:y, l A trailcmtrd Ju the murdered PaJamedl'3, jj suitable; Paus- priJoMim r/1 gwru d411$ Ia Crtct antique ( f:wlt anias reported a die th e hero dedicated in the Fran(aiu d'Atlti?us, Trt~MI.IX d Mbwiru 17 san ctuary of Tycl1c at Argos1 11.20.31 which (•!)68)). must, he thinks: make th e :5hrine ''very old." 2. Odysseus kills Anyanax in Jliou Pt-tsis The connected Mycenaean practice m;ay be (ft.1 ) , Neoptolcmoo in th e Littlt Iliad, fr. 19 seen in the Shaft Graves {Karo, Sclutehtgriibtr Allc1\, er. Iliad XXIV.7J5, 1Jaus.anias X.25.9 ; 24.3 f., 3 19, 353), and~ in a different sphere, artists prefer Neoptolcm~: l\·1. Wieneke, ''An the gTOuill of Aattcned lead-weighted shells Epic Theme in Gredt Art," .4JA 58 ( 195.t) for some )"'uthful game !.ike j acks in the tombs 285-3o6; ~·1. Ervi.n, " A Relief Pit hot from Mykonoo/' Deltion 18 (t9'(i,.) 63f. ; AJA 8o o( Perati (S. Jakovide1, Pnali 8 ( 1970) 3f4f., who collc<;ts th e torn~ from twdve other ( 1976) 39; K. Friis Johansen, Tlu lliorl ;, sites where shelb arc oonne<:ted with child Eatly Cruk Art (1967) 28f.; E. Brann, A_n tK 2 burials). r\duh$ take plcasl.IJ'e in t~ fu ll of ( 1959) 35; K. Fiu.schen, SapndotSUlllllfgen knucklebones for gamil)g. "Killg Mid:t$" of ( 1969) ~3 fig. 1t; Bc.uley, CB iii) 6tf.; C. Cordion had 144. Roberc, Die grird1iuhe lfelrfpuoge 4 ( 19'l s.,. Copyrighted material N oTES TO PAGES 8 3-117 0~ "ltO: "You might wish to take y~>ur litde boy. But would the rest of u.s, 1hink you, cho08c to be CI1Cumbercd with another consumer ofl)rtad, who could never help in a fi.ght, who might delay us in charging or flying, might cry f1'0m the j>:tin or hunger or fatigue lmd betr~y ~ all? No, leave him on the h<:ac.h" (lOt:. ~£1. note r) . See note +1- bclo\.,, 3 • ix.6~; Vc:rgil, Amtid V I', !)06; Rohde, PS)Yitt 42. 4· £. Vcrmc:u1e, Th¥ Art qj tJ11 Sluifl· Crar.u 4t Mycmae. ( t!);s) 25 1 51 ; for da.u ical art, F. H 6lschcr, Di1 8ukulung Arclu.Jiuher TiokampfbiJJn-, B~ilriig~ .tur :trchiiologlt 5 ( 1972) tO wbich I a m much indebted; M. L. and H. Erlenm eyer, «Ober grieehischc und aho•·ienta.lischc Tiel'kampfgn•ppen,'' AnrK 1 ( 19.!)1:1) 53f.; E. Dusch or, "BurglQwen,., AM 47 ( 1922) 92f.; and see notes ~h 6 below. 5· Individual but gcncrall)' UN(JHitnc:uw.l coloring is applied to figure$ like the vtrr hungry liOIU of XL~7 or XI1.299, the wounded :~tag eaten b)' scavengers X1.474, the ang:ui.shed lion who ha.~ Irut cubs XV J I I. 318, the bev.·il der~,-'(1 fawn.~ lV.243, the d ogs ripping a wounded faW'l.l XV.5;9. the hungry mother bird IX.323. the Qt:lj)re)'$ Or vultures v.•ho have lost their children xvi.216, and a variety ol' animah exhibited in moments of ph)-,icnl or emotional distte~S. On t he s.ubj ect i n gc:ner.al :see H. fJii.nkel, Di~ homtriMIIm Gleidmis1e {1921) ; 0. K01'1let, Die ltbi'IJLfistlle Tiat(,'t/t ( 1930) ; R.. HamJ)C, Die Glei£h1Ji1St Homm ( 1952}; 0. Oh.ly, Cri(tMsclre GQJd/)[ulze ( ' 9!>3) 76f.; W. Schadcwah, " Oic homel'isclle G lcichnisweh," Von Homtrl Werk u.ml WtJt3 ( 19.59) 87f. ; H. Rahn, "' I)a.~ T iel' in der homerisclu:n 1)ichtm,g," StuJium Cnuralt 20 ( 1967) gof. ; \ V. Scou, Tit¥ Our/ .Na.ture qfllu Homt'lic Simik, Mntm•U)'7te Sup. 28 ( 1974) ; a nd note 7 be~low. 6. Gilg:un~.~h. A,•\'lf.T'.l 88, N. K. S:md BaT honslU of South Afrk., to Sd:hmet t he Jion·goddes:s of war in Egypt. 1· Antipate r, AnthPal V II. 426 ( D. L. Page, Epigronrm6la Gt 45~>300 o.c.," AjA ;6 ( 1970) 49-59· H . Gabelmann: Studlen {Urn friill~hildtnJ L6100thild ( 1965) ; for Leon of Si.nope, S. K~rou1:0 u7 Tk JYaJi()JUJ/ tltehtWiogieal Museum CoJUctiQn qf St:ulptuu ( 1968} 107 and (Simonidc:s) AnthP<JI V I I.3·1·1A ~pW1· p.tv xUpmno.; iyW, 6w.t1'Wv .S'Ov iyciJ vW / tfopovpW, 'T<_dS~ .orU~o/ .\aiv~ lJ4143oWr; Kallimachos MrhPol V I1.344b. A lion on 3 da..~ca.l tomb chec-ks on the funeral offerings and m~y ea t or refuse them, on a wbite.ground lckythos, Ric.·.-:lcr, wc;L pl. 57 (Athens NM 1938). For do~, M. Collignon, RA 4 ( 1904) 48; l . Mal«.<>, jdl '9 ( 1914) 236f. The whole connection of lions>dO(p and birds in funenry art, Hampe, G'<1hjund 66f. Sec note 24. 8. PhiiO~ll'fttO$, Life of Apd/DniOJ of 1j'GM JV.1 o, on t.he a.r tfuJ old mcndiea.nt at Ephcsos in whom Apo11on.iosdetected a [)b.g\JC-eauting a nimal-demon, suggests an interesti.ng Juper· .stitiow reverse of the u.sual principle-" they found t hat he had di~appes.red and instead of hiJ:n there wit$ a IIOtmd who membled in form and look a Mol~ia.n dog, bllt was ilt size th e equal ohhe larg:C$1 Uon; 1here be lay bcl'orc their eyes, pounded to a pulp by th eir stones and vomiting foam as mad d ogs do." The good lion-man, Hc1'akles t\potropaiosJ is set over th e evil man· lion, t he slain "gh~M t 11 {phn.mu~) . ( F. C. Cony})eare, Loeb edition ( 1969]). cr. Burkerl Of\ weTewol v~. HN 98C 9· F. Yeau-Browu, TJu Lilw:J of a Bm,gal IAmm (1910) 51f.; R. S. S. Baden •PowellJ PigSticking Qr H~tg-Hurding (188!)). Xenophon is certain the boars~ tu.sks are hot enough (from strength and r:tgc) to singe the hounds' coats even w h c.u i t d oa n01 g01'C t h em , 0"' HunJJ'n$ X.17. Cf. 1''. Hl)lsc hcr, Df!. tit. note 4; R . Blatter, AntK 5 ( 1962) 45; G. Dalt.rOp, Di4 Kalj t!OitiJthL }agJ ( 1966) ; F. Klcint.or, AntK' 15 ( 197'l) 7· to. Chantminc, Diditmnair~, more properly distinguishes the etymologies. {Jpo1"0s related to arm. (:md Q . Pusian) mt~rtf• Skrt. mrtA_; f3plno<; reia ted to S krt. mOrl3.-{JcfJpWutew from Copyrighted material 234 NOTES TO PAGES 83- I I 7 the root• i''n' art11 of m:u~ ~ g)vcn being dcaned up in our JUmJ, Rise o/ 1111 Cutk jn 0 . KOmer's Dil Xrtdidtm Kt.lttniSil in !lias Epir. 145r.• but their· evidence should so the Wid O~mu { t 929) ; diS<"ases1 psychic J>O$Si biliother way; it i~ t he fifth century whidl d e:.· tiC$J and sources of knowledge (sacritlce, hunt, lig-hts in dtudo. ((Y)I(I., like t-he dragging of battle \\'Ow\l t9) orspecial tMtc:d the aWxp6v, like Lhc man in J,l::u o•s skills Jjke being ambidextrous (Asteropaios, RtPublir. who h:'s once eaten h~tman flesh, XXJ.163) . 1'he skeletal s~'!tem is well articube<:omn, if not wo1li$h, at le:lst more 3nimal lated, from the skull c:uc to the neck and in his aesthct i c.likin~." See ;1bo C. S..:gal1 The spinal vertebrae (XfV.-t6!J 1 XX.-482) of mea TltrltiL W tM MMlilation of tlze CQrp;e>Mrumovnt. and animals {x.161), shou1der blado, collar· Sup. 1 7 { 1971) ; i\gaJn cuulol\ ja ,. \'ltl.ntonly bon'", rib6~ sections of anns and legs, elbow~ cruel"; Horner doc'S not like ''grisly detail$ of hand, wri:st, palm, knee, shin, thigh, flat of mutilation " for itt~ own sake but tO st~~ tl1c foot, ankle and hecl, conlainingjugula.r vcin.s, agony of the rel<'l t iv~,.-:s1 o•·· 4-7, ·• Horner ll.$($ food pip~ and wind pi1X-:s, lung$, livet$, gut$, the outrage of Hcktor's cori)Jc tO CXJ>IO(C the the f:u :~.round the ltidn'-"}'$, tendoM, nerves widening circiC$ of t~av;,gtr)· released br Lhe and (n.lrrow. h thCJ.' e ::.nothcr (:Jl ie tradition war. UJtimatel)' the outrnge of the corr.xse so well informed ;,bout the hum;m anAtOmy, comes to forbode the outrage- of Troy itself or so eager to break it apart for our amusement and of the civiliution guarded behind 1'·,·ay's and edification ? gato." PcrhO'I~ t-lomc:r would be :~t~rpr~cd nt •+· Xlll.:.t6-:z, 4-+'l; XXIl.f!)~ · the delicate- &tomaehs of his later readcts, fo1· r,s. S. E. B:u.~ctL, The Podry (f HtJmu (1938) it l$ certain!)· not \ln<.:orumon ia any culture tO 'l$6 n. 37: 318 herOC$ :tre killed, 'l.~3 Of them continue the b<'llth.··<"~ nger from the l.iving are named. cn.emy to the de.,d cot"my. See the sensible 16 . Scecllaptcr 2 note 7· rcm:U'ks ot' S. E. Bas$Ctt, "t\chilles' Tn:atmcnt 17. V.66 ofHckw'• Body," TAP.i 64 (1933) 41f., on P~fU.~ot(• y.\o•rr0~> .occ...O $(t,o~· lj 8( 814"p6 modc.:rn spnpathy fo1· the weaker (not a 0,.,,11pV.o(Crfl: otW'f'w im' t)~lov 1f,\ull' ~ ......~. g('.ner311y Creek trait), and the ·• hardness yv~ ~· (p•"' oi~~that r~pds affection" i.n tile anciem man of d ecision or ht:ro. B:use.tt w:u probabl)' right with an atJ'Ow at XIII.6sof. The peculiar that ckudo. i{YY(l did not-, in Homer, e.xpre~ wound OoCt:\m; onlr 3t these plaees; Me,•iones an)' SCR$C' of horror or moral Outrage, but w::a.~ is: except ionally \'Crsatile with hi$ wc:aporu. d tllcriptivc of '' hann to the ol)ject of 1h e 18, The d~st ~el-ms to be X1II.568f. , action, and not the injll$til;e of the a<.:tor" where Meriont"$ ag.-in .strike$, thj,s time (-15)· Cf. W . Leaf on /li(ld ~'\I ll.t76. a:&ot- r< ~«nJYii K«l OPJP«).oV. l 11ec ~·o-ro 12. \\1, Uurkert~s doquent ;ugument thOJ.t yi)'l' Copyrighted material NOTES TO pAGES 83-11 7 Courbin, "La Gucrre en Gr«:e a Haute ~poquc/ ' in \f(:rn8,nt, Cutm (note 1) 69f. Charac-teristic taunts liken the soldjer a weak victim animal {AgamctiU1on to the Argh·cs, "why arc you standing there like 20. 10 deer?" IV.~ 42), to a coward or thief (to Odysseus, "why do you stand h ere :slmlking ?" lV.340}; they cast doubt on his ancestry rncpolcmos to Sarpedon, "'fhey are linrs who call y01.l a son of Zeus, 8ince you rail tar short of tho~ rel1lly born from Zeus among former h¢toe$," V.635f.) ;. tlley remark on his poor :~kill, (.. Yol' d id not hiL me, )'Ou mi~d, " V.287) 1 hi$ fema.le qualitil'S ( " )'(HI are no better than a woman, down wich you, x on good looks betrayed by poor action: the c;T8os Jpurrc type (11 1.39: V. ;87, XJ.385, xvn .•Go). 21 . E. Friiukel, Au&~)·lus, Agamn!U1Q1t (t9f)!2) or! lor.., quote; HeadJ:am on 'ITpo,.lAEc«. .. cerernonies J)~viOul; to t he; eons~•mn.t:uion of marriage, " and considers the phrase to have a rit\lnl sacr-iflcia.l element not yet faded; the Hesychiu.~ d efinition,1} 71p0 ;((iv y&pwv (Jvolo.· Ko: iopn} i.s useful both for the Agcrm11nmm otnd for th e llirul; lhe yO~~aTOS (pEcSoplvot~ 11o).a{oJ.44TO. signifies not marriage, but sex with an unconscntin.g partner, The Crec.k peasant still uses ya~ in a similar way. ~2. Of animals, for example: dH:: mule iJ most d iffic ult, XXIII.655, Tif.L{ovov ••• •• ' " ' ••. ' ~ -• aJ) d SO 10J: ' 1Wf.L7Jr1JV, 'I• ; ' «A)'WT"J} ~'0.0Q.QV fuhmolc, .-tre.hit"t an.d Swlptor in Clas.sie.al Gret-t' (1972) 164-; M. Robercsoo, A Hiswry qf Grfe.k Art (1975) 125; K. Fittschen, Sagendar· sttll~ngm ( 196g) 150. 24. The basic love-talk i.s XVl1.228, ij O.:ro..\loOw / -r}( oawOT/nu· ,} yQp wo"MJWu 6(lp.tanfs-. Xl ll.2g1 , opposing b rtMt or belly to the enem}' thr("al, must be similar, illd K£v 1j rnlpvw1•-ii ,~,;o~ 1-'4"'1'~ wpoJt &.xrmr <~aplO"¥ ( 19.51) 6-~o; Chant r:kinc, Dit;ti(lmltJirr, !l.v. lAwp; M. f"aust, '' Oie kunstler i:sc:he Verwenduug von KVwv 1 Hund' i.n den homerisebcn .Epeo,.. Glnuo -t-8 ( 1970) tO·•·:tt; J. A. Sc.:ou. "Oogt; in H o mc;r," CW 41 { 1947-48) 226. The dog-dance \'t'Ould O<:cur as the)' dragged 1h e victim in front or th e t.."ity w:.tlls (XV.351) with white feet {XI.817); the ~Oll!J \\'Ould be growls and ho,vls, but these are SuJ>i>ressed in epic. for the dance aod Opx_tf, testicle, see C. Wa1ki.ro, op. e.it., chapter 2 note 17. Hampe," Sc.hlachtfcld, Hunde und Geier," Crahfund 66f. a5. The fr:tgmenu from Tcnos (Xoburgo, Athens Nr-.•1 '2495) and Eret.ria in N. Kont~> leon, .. Die rruhgricchu.clH; Rclicfl:.urut," EphAreh (1969) u6, pl . 4;a; J. Sch.lfct, St11dim zu dm gr. Reliljpithoi ( 1957) pl. :<; 1-~. Kun"le, Kt~li$che 8rqnz.mU'.fo (1931) J)l.. .5·t-.Bi M. Ervin, A]A So (1976) pl. 2 fig. tO; l>ee note 39· j . M. &r;uton, "The Birds of Homer/' JHS 31 (19 11) 2161'. , dtsel'i bcsgJf.IS monGCIIus, lf)'ptfuh>UJ, t.he Lammergder, and the Egyptian 111dtu.r JN:rcwp11Lf; and, 239f., " Often in the E;ut J have sl(l(')d to W:'l.tCh a 8l'Oup or such vultures at their ghoulish ••LS.k, closely packed, t heir spread wings overlapping to form an encircling fence. all necks down and heads hidden w.it·hin like men in :\ footb.'\11 S¢rir»m;sge; and ju:st :'l.'! tho <: move U. a mil$$, rollowing t h e llhirt:ing or t h e. 1):111 hidden among tlu:.ir feel, 50 lh<>sc !\Way all logethcr, 1\0W in one d irOCtion, nO"\v in a.nolhcr, 3.~ t he carc:u:s is dragged about the ground." 26. Cbaprct ~ note 40. 27. As in old crows, old biddie..'l, old hens, fo....,l, old chickabiddies, old vultul'CS, har-pies'! to be distinguished from bird, canary, chick, ducky, ladybird, pigeon, quail and turkey. Copyrighted material NoTES TO PAcEs 83-117 28. Ch;,pt~.r ,; p. 171. 29. Segal, M1t1il6tiM 47; M. Nagler, Sp.mlantil)• am! TradWtm ( 19 74) 45· nwri11, lnwg round the victim's neck on the 30. Ct'. PandarM, V.214, "Ietsome stranger take the head from my shoulders ... "; XIV.497 PenrJcO!I to l lioneus' head; X.4s5 ':'"00 vtJC:po;; (Hcsychius), cotffllponding to the mutilated brea.<;ts of female victinu at in the tale oi ~1a.,istes' wife ( Herodotos J X. tt~; cf. E. Wol.fl', "Doa.s Weih des Masistes,.. Hernvs 92 (t9641 51) . It of course happens to Melan· thios, xxii.-4i5. to the victinl$ of F..chetos the og.l'c in the 0d)•s.su. and may be hinted at in Tyr taiO$' aip.o.1"0(v'f'' a4.3oio.. ?lltG4S lv X,(poW i'x.ovf"a,, 7•25 D. See also R . C .Jebb, &phoklt-s, The E/retra ( 1907) on 44.); RE XCV 2o6o ('N . Kroll, I:. Boehm); C. Kittredge, '' Arm-Pitting among t he Cr~ek$," A]A 6 ( 18:85) 151 ; Dolon's h ead; XX.481 Oeukalion's h e0:1.d; many i.wtances ln t he /Uod s.cem more th an the inflicting of a fatal wound, more an instance of t roph)'·hunt:ing. M )•th pre~crvC$ other head-hunting epis.oda, the heads of Hippodamda's uruuccessful suhors tacked on Oinomaos' palace at Olympia (Apol1odoros, EpiUm~T 11.5; J>ausanias thinks he buried the s~•itors " " 'ith no CSJ>ecial care," VL~t.7) ; Pentheu$' head (like a lion's) on t he pa13.Cc at Theb~. Euripides, BaccJv::t 1 21 'Jf.; E. R . Dodds, & ip;dls, Banhae { •9H} 4d loc. cites Posidonius Cr. 1 16 jac. (F. Gr. H.ii A 304}, Celts do it to t heir enemies as C reek hunters their t rophies; srtnngcrs sacrificed among the l 'auria.n$ (Euripides, lpM.grneia mmmg tM TttmiQ.I1J 361 621) , KyknOL'I' temple built of heads for t\rcs (Hesiod, Shielrl 57f.), Apollo· doro~ II. 7-7; F. Vian, RroEtA:n< 47 ( 1945) 27; S. Karouzou, BCN 79 ( 1955) rn; Anta.ios who l'Oofed Pc)S(idol1'3 temple witll skulls ( Pindar, hthmion IV .:;gf.) ; Diomedes, Euc:nas and o thers. The habit of nailing up such agalnwt11. to the god" is of\en tbc unly m:\ttcr later known about these giant figures. T he troph)'·head and the p rCllervcd ancestor bead differ more in mode of acquisitjon, perhaps, than in the soothing effect t hey ha\'C: on t he warrior's soul; Hcrodotos JV.'l6, 6.>; J.O. P. BohooJ AristeaJ tif PrQWIIntstU (1962) 76f. The Beldam P 's lclt)' thos with severed heads (llg. 2.4; Has.pd~ ABL 170~ ~66) ser.ms to allude to a common element in the traditional repertory of tort ure and taunting, also illw. tra.ted by llis name-J)iece with the tormented fem;~.le, and bis " torture of pri3one11 by pirate.,'' ibid. 11(11 1 i3· Pla to recon:b t he commoo corturcs as $COurging~ racking, burning out the eyC"S and impalC'mem (Republic 11.361 )~ not neceuari1y " barbarian" behavior in Ai.schylosJ Eummidts 186f. The rdated topic of mauhalismos is more disputOO. by those who regard t he Greeks as incapnble brutalit)' than by those who view them as characteristic inhabitants of the Mocliterrancan. See Rohde, Ps;v:he, Appendix IlJ s8:tf.J a st raightforward and c:xcc.Uent trc.aunent, except that the genitals might be included with t he other &eVered extremities~ or rope fMit'-ned then beneath his nrrnpits1 J.l4qX. Mo.1; they would be natural O.l!(pw'f'T1puio~-tt1TQ Nil:;sc;m, GGR 12 9'11 99· The a.potrop;tic function i!S natura.ll)' import.'l.nt for murderers, yet t he more ordiMr)· dt.'3ire to humiliMe the hated victjm c.annot be totally absent; reli· gious logic and carnivoro"' behavior happily coincide. M. K limburg, diseu~.ing wood· cai"Ying from Kaliristan, Al8:h3.ni.~tan, nott".S rhe g·reat wooden poles each with a. groin· bole, which is filled with a phallorstick for every new enemy killed (Lecture, Cambridge; Mass., rkc. 1, 1975) . Egypt a nd t he Ntar East had already shaped similar ru;pects of the warrior code : Sed J of Egypt1 " hi.-s he01rt is sMisfled with the ~lght of blood, He Couts off the heads of tJ\e perverse heart. He lOVe$ an instant of trampling more t han a day of jubila t ion. H is maj esty kills them all at one time and lc~wC$ no heirs among them," ANET2 254; A$hur(t3.• t irpa l II of A$$yria piles pillan ofsku lls in front of the towns of t.utibu and Bur· mar'ana, ANET2 27 i ; Esarhaddon caught Abdimil· kt•Ue ki.ug of K.undi ;md Si%-tl like a bird in the mountains a nd c.ut off his be.ad : " (Then) J hung the heads ofSanduarri and of Abdimil· )mt tc around t he neck.' of t heir nobles f ehic:f· officials to demonst rate to the population t he powc.l' of Ashur, my lord, and paraded (th~) through the '''id e mai n street o( Nineveh with 3ingen (pl ~ying on) samm:U-harp," ANEP or 291. 31. S. Karot•zou, JHS 92 ( 19 72) fi4- i3; she cites Kimon's dr~am of death {Plutarch, Lift of KimM 18.g), Ovo.p (t&.. 0 Klp.wv·i'SOICE' KWo. OvfJ-Ou~-tb?jv V.\aK"T(iJ' npO.S c~.,.o,., b( 8i J}Aa.ldjs' Jlfp.t:•yJLivov d~t:io(UI th>Opcf.,nov 1/J)Oyyov tl11tiv orci):(, ~ yUp (01) Kol ij.loOi Kol ipDi; odC:KtOOU'. A mantic man explains the drt'.am as death. Copyrighted material NOTES TO PAO£S 83- 1 '7 On the lc::k)'thos the goddt:$.' is clearly physi~lly Oltc.'lched to the dos~~ who eat the dead; they are animal exr>resstons of tbe function that reside\ in her. 32. Cf, IV. t82, Vl.282, V lll.t!)O, X VII. 4'7· 33· So fire i< o.>.OOv [XV.Go;, Xll1.629) ; dOtU~ fll.t6.s. Alyu1M'iotot 8( V(v0Jlw1'o.a <-r0 > 'TtfJp O"'?pi<,v C'lva1 lp.~vxov. 1t&vro.. 8( aVrci KanoOiu Y t'cl '1t€p .lJOOl" 8( lr.uh·O) ri'fr jlopij~ OWQ1t'o6V?)<7KHV T KU'TCU{)topl~ . Hcrodotos seems to report 1his M a novelty tllough it \ oJM buih into his own language. For fu•c and c:himaira as&lo'O.IJ.ULU'fO<S (VI, 1 7!,1, XVI.3~9) cf. P. Arnandry, He.,Arth ( 1949) (Milangts Picard I, t}; T. j . Dunbabia, DMR U ( 19.)3) 1164. )fJ.tcup.dxHor is used of her fire: in Hes:iod, Th. 3 19; of fire in Sophokles ( OT 177}. of t he sea ( Pindar, Pythian l.14; cf. " Htsiod," SJrUIJ '201), of quar-rcls, Bacch)'lidcs X.6,~, and or fu ries (Sophotdcs, 01\ 12j). Mo>.(p6~ is WteresLingly ~tta.ehc:d to lioru (Aisc:h)'los, Ag. 141}, Ar($ (Sophokles, OT 190) pothos (Aisch)' los, Pm. 62) and songs {Pindar OJ X.22); c:f. chapter 5 p. J.)4. 3·•· Chapter 2 note q . 3.)· The Sil ver Siege: r hyton from t he Shaft Graves or Mycenae. K.aro, St!ttUillgrllbu no. 481; women w;&tcll.ing t he llc;et from the tOwn wa1ls, Thera fresco, S. Marin;110s, T/taq, VI, pll. 711'.; in the Egyptian wan against the H ykso~~ both the Karnak stele of K.1.mose ("' I saw his women on the roof of his house while looking out th eir windO\vs" .. . , M. H a rnm.ad, Cltrf»titfl.ll1 J'i8)fJr" ( '95+-5!)] r98 ; L. H a bachi, Armalu de lo Sm:iu { 1956) 195) and the Carnarvon Tablet { ANE'P ~33) use the theme: "\\'hen ch c time of brcakfa$t had come, I auacked him. I broke down hi.s walls, I killed his people, and I made h is wife come down to the rivc.:rlw.nk." Normally I he defend· ant.s are on the waJis., in Egyptian siege $Cenes {W. S. Smith, lntntOJfJf«limr.r in Jhe AncWlt Near £411 [ 1965] 168f.) while crouching wailing 237 women arc more ollen shOh'O n.s captives. Aillutn:uirpal's !jC'u lptor-s put a \\tailing \\'Oman tc;;aring her hai.r ort :\ tower ( R. D. Barl\elt, W, Forman, ~.rly thought of as a negative \t;tril\nt on nwu'M), understanding, prud ence, wi_sd(lm, :Uld 11'U'UT 38. Jane Van Lawid:. Goodall, In t~ 20~, 212. 39· Quoted in an interview with E. Scribner, Boston Glok M.q,gnz.ifll, 7 July 1974-, Shadmu of Man (l9i 1) •••40. As in ls."liab 13.16, "Their children also shnll be d ashed to pieces before their eyes; thdr- hou.1es $h<&ll be spoiled, and their wives ravished,.; 18: " T heir bows Ollso Wall Copyrighted material NOTES TO PACES 83- 117, 11 8 - 144 da.~h the young men to pieces1 and they shall have no pity on the fruit of the wombj their t,.;·e sha ll not :spare c hildre n." lt was reportOO in May •97.> th..1.t Cambodian ofli<:c:~"¥ w1)1dd be executed do\om to the ntuk ()( scoond lieuten:\nt ;dong with their wives and liOns, who :share th e respOnsibility for war-guilt. 41. Troy Lies face dO\\'n, n/)T}"Is, in toppled towers; her head$ arc Wldone ( IX.24) , caught by th e steep head (XV..>s8, cf. XII I.n~), where the wive~ of children duner on the wall$ (XVII.5 1f )- N:tgler J)refcn the eon· noct ion with KptjS£1'va <~ond the rn.pe of the bride, &h e ripping of her private veil, Spon. 11/td Tradill'on ( 1974) ro, 45f. But in t he old language of oath, ''let brains be spilled on the earth as this wine is spilled" ( lll.soo). ¥l· W. Burkert, "Oa$ 0 1)fer al$ T{lt ungt· :U.:t," H.N Sf. and bibli08taphy; F. Schwenn, Gtbtt amJ Opfv (1g-.t7);. cf. P. V idal. Naquet, in Vcrnant and Vid;,J.N:tqtle1, .M.Jlk ~t Tu:gtdiL m Grl;r1 Amimnt ( 1972) eh. VI. W~ity CH.APT£R IV lMMORTALS ARE MORTAl., MOR'l'ALS IMMORTAL t, As i.n DiQ/oguu Qj the Deod 11 (402): Oiogc:nes and Heraklc;s; H.. " Don't )'0\J thin.k everyone is a oompound or tw(J things, soul and body? so what prevent$ the SOl•I (p.rJ'Ck), which came from Zeus, from being in heaven, and my mortal me from bei.ng among the dead? 0: You would have put that very well, noble son of Amphitryon: if >'Ou were a bod)· {wmo), btlt now you arc; a bodik.ss image ( w(Jmalbll tidt:Hun); su you ma)' create a tt'iplc H erak!'". H: What do you mean, triple? 1): T hi$, if there i.s one of him in heaven, and :tnotl\cr here among us dead which is you the image, but the body on Mount Oita. i!: already d\q:L, he i,. 3ltcady tl1cse three. Stan thinking what third father you will des.ign for your bod)·.'' l,.ucian'$ " images" in Hades also have bones io them when be wish~. :2, T he idea of a tclepromplc:r for cb e dead is not entirely facetious, sin«;e in the main teo· ance of memory and idenlity ch c.n; is n double :t<:tion between the viewer and the sl~per; as the Egyptian.\ believed a man must remember his own ~:~ ame tO 1t:ty ollivc in the U oderwotfd. 3· 11u:: ume chemes are vividly illustratt d on toml>!!toues in the Mount Auburn and Cambridge City1 Mass.achuseus, ccmc:terin, used here; see also E. V. (;mon, VkltJrillll Q~te..ry Art { 1972). 4· T here seems no c:a1y way to match the fragmentJ of d eath themes in l)'tie and elegiac: verse wi1 h the themes of archaic tombstones (chapter 1 M te 63). The poet5' standa rd comments include " it does no good to weep for the dead," " it is not good to criticize the dead, " •• a man who dies 6ghring for his country geu: more honor," " life is short, mi.~rable old age and death lie before u$," ;• ttmcmbcr rne," " no one will remember you," a11d 1imil.;,r proverb~ ;tnd puffs of the poc..1.' s ability to confer immortality on his ftiends. The tomlrepignms tend rather to intr oduce thermelves, give information about the dead man1 his famil)•, his profession, ht' mode of death. with occasional phra.'let of advice or warningo; not to disturb; gnom3i are rare and theological specul3tion exttemely rare until after the Persian Wars. Lattimore, ThrfiUI, and L. A. S tella.J .. 1/ideale della morte eroic;, nella. Grecia del V secolo, u Al.tlk! t Roma 2 ( 19S4-) ~,413; G . Lange, Dm Tod hetr4}fondt Topoi in der .~ritthisdre rmd ,-Jmisdu P4t.rie (di.$:s. Leipzig 1956). 5 · I am indebtt:d to M. Nussbaum for d il1Cll1"ion :tnd for her a rticle "V'vX1J in H era· klcitoo," PlrtYJn~is 17 ( 1972) 1f., r 53f.; her translation of frag . B 62 is ~enti a.ll)' " 1m· morcals 3re morta l, mort:ils i.m.mo~:tal, since: t hey (mortals) are living with res.pc'ct to the death of the immortals (i.e. the fact tha t immortals are dead to ~/tl)s actMfl, which constitutes morta l immortality) but are dead with r('.spoc.t to their (immortal-s') (statically eternnl) ljfc:." { 163). See abo chapter l note 2 1. Creek$ might lind this interprttation difficult, :since gods: received enormous tr i· butes of kllcs, cclebratory praiie and memory of deeds, i.n tbeogonics, hymns, prayt:N a.Jld myth. Sec U:usett, bclow note 15; the incompleteness or immortals is a C reek commonplace. See also J. Mansfcld, u H era· .:;lihl$ on tbe ~yc;hology and Pl1ylliotogy of Sleep and on Rivers," M~~tm~m '20 (1967) 1f. Hernkleitos is viewed by m.,ny conservative for "'hom myth had pcnistent power. 6. T he gods can. rit~k cxlle, mockery, and Copyrighted material 2 39 lOS$ or mortal respect, d egradations not dissimila.r tO d<::Hh. $«: aho C. S. Kirk, " He.•aclitus on Ot:.th in Baule," AJP 70 (1949) 314f. 7• GiJgameW IX.i.i. AltlET" 88; S luu:nMh risin_g, H. Frankfort, f;rlind" s~aiJ (1939) 67, 130, 160i the new-born Egyptian sun is a common New K ingdom funerary motif; A. Piankoff, B. Rambov:s, Egyptian &ligi(}w Texts and RtpmmtQliqns Jll ( 1957) : A{rll:o· logit<Jl Papyri 1/ 11, 1.71, Jl.t, C:.\iro lrl\1. 133. 8. J, Piaget, T1u Child'J C(}n,tpliQtl of lht JYurl.d ( '9"l:9) ~ 56f. ; cf. p. 2o8, W i.lliamjamcs' deaf-mute D'Estrdla, "At first he thought t here wete lot• of suns, one for each d a>' "; 2iO, Cava: Tile sun is alive because ''it keeps coming b:1ck " ; 273• Font: it comes urrom t he mouotain " ; :126, Rat, to the ((~tcstiun , <:Ould th e sun come h.1.ck in the middle of the night jf it wanted to ? "lt wouldn't want to. I1's night-time, t ime to go to bed." 9· u {'11le) souls smell in Ha des" (B gO) seem$ $irnila_rly part mockery, pal't ddibe••ate m~tification, 1')crhaps part relic of animal irnagery, the Jl.t)t..l~ M a keen-nosed hound getting home:: to Hudt."$ without :1. guide, J>art recognition of retnined ps)·chic powers necd~..-d by divin ers. shamans and poets, p.1..rt comment on the anomalies or the Nekyia $Uth as S isyphos' swes.L. 10. Mamfcld, ()/J. cit. llOte 5· I I. Chapter 3 note 10; cr. M. Nagler, Spqnlantii.J <Jnd Tradition ( 1974) 4•h in -::onnection with 8t;p.c.>~ people and 8YJp~ fat. 1?. Chapter 2 p. 73· 13. The simple-minded biogr-.aphicnl apj>rOach tO the unknowable is cllaracterist ieally Greek; it flouri ~hed among seltoli:bts ~utd st-ill docs in the tc;;•ching of G reeJ;. myth, M icl P. Slater's Tlu Gl&IJ' t>f Ht.ro ( 1968) which explores the gods' e;1rlr relat ionships to tlteir mothel'$ and corucquent d evelopment of oralnarcWist ic and other complkations; d. M. Lcfkowit2, "Pindar's Lives/' CI<Jni'a o!l lbtd'a (Studies iJl Honor of the Rev. J. M.-F. Marlque, ( l975]) 71, and below note 1!). 14- Dodds, lrrati41Uil, 16; R~cher 3201; Rohde, P.qtlt4 364; chapter 1 note 16. ' 5· S . E. ~cu, TIUl PJJt.tr;Y "fHttntn' ( 1938) ~22. 16. C . M. Cl\lhoun, "HomC'r'• GodsMyth and ~'15rC:h('.l), " AJP 6o ( •939) I r. 1 7, Phtlwws $Cems less :t. t heol(lgical tenn thnn a prac:tic;::\1 e:ocpr..:S'Pon of the certainty that life will go wmng if it can. It docs not refer to th e irnmortal:~' poir'Jl of "l ew, hut tO the observed fa-::t :Mnong the C reelu that anyone who became "godlike," antith~, in strength, happiness, wealth) marriage or prestige was soon spoiled, &~pfJl~rrtt; lr.eao.v. Since destiny and the gods cont roiJed matters Olat or $ight a nd re;ach, t hey were na.tur:t.llr held responsible for the ups and downs of fortune-, a nd it is testimon)' to the C reek's ceruaint)' of his own superiority: that be -::ould genuincly believe that gods created by his own an.;:c:'$tra1 t:raditjon -::ould be per;,;onallr jea lous of his p:utieular achicvemenu. See H . Lloyd-Jones, TM ]u.Jliu qf {4'tu ( 197~) 55r., "Pollution and Purification.'' 18. Often in t he Iliad mm11tra occurs in a context debating whc:.tber to do somc:.thing wicked or harm(ul, as Zc:u$ may be doing here; HeN~. "won·ia" about how she may dcccivc Zeus ( XJV. t59). Diomedcs how to do t be most "dog-like" t hing ( X.so3) ; when h e.roes .Sui....Saxa. p.tpft~p.~~o· (Achilles, l. 189; DiomedesJ VJH. 167j Odysseus, V.671) one a lternative i.s violent or murderous, as though p.lpflTJpa had clothed iuelf in wme quality from it.s analogue ,,(pp.<pos, mi$chievow.4 wicked. The atchaic de:~cendant of p.lppTJpa. JJ1rxp.va s~$ tO ha"c $hed thM :upoct or a dilemma more natural to a warrior .society, and to lxcomc "-..gucr, as a kind of preoccupying but undelinca.tOO anxiety, with t he re~dt:unt$5 ~usge:ctcd. in iu li~t 3.f)pea•'tl.nce, in the H)mn t-0 Htnnes 44: or a· a..a w~ O.Or' ~f, ..6trj.i 'lt'fp!)~ /!11ip~. if., 'f'( 8ofW4l ifuD't'fX"if,Wt>i p.(pii{I'(LI, o1 S/7( &tr!Jl?Waw 411'' OifiJU.pW.. ¥o,ovyui Such anxic:t>' was normally cou.neeted by Creeks to the intd ligencoe ••athe•· t ban to " ner\•es" or emotional di.nrC$.'1, n.s t hough it wc:re J)rOVOked by com;ciOu!'>n~ of JAilutoe to unde,.T$tand 1he pteklll or ftt t.ure context or the sdf. 19. As weather-god and king, Zeus is naturally most dtangC'able i n tJu;:l'e sketches, 1hcrefore perhaps roost i~Uuhed by Homer i.n the eyt.-s of l ater idealists. Zeus c-~m get \'Cry burdened with rmger ( J.sq, 534• J V.3o, V ll..t5 1), satiated with g•·icf (X JX .g5), terribl)· an!:PY (V I11 .:)9i) , •• broken " (sexually tu'Stlullc:d ?) b)' H era's shatJ) la nguage (V .8g3) ; H era i$ frightened a nd angry (I.s68, V.B92), Hera and Athena school their beam in Copyrighted material NoTES TO PAoES 118-144 submi.\:Uon (V III..t-37) ; all the gods may be sorto\'\'ed (1.!){01 XV. tol}: or insuJt eac-h other freely (XXI V.33), feel self-pit)· indivi. dually ( V.87 1) or collect ive!)· ( XII.179); th e scenes of divine feasting are seldom pc:ac.cful or unperturbed, in this old tradition of folk· tale impres.'lions of famili es with pO\\'Crful members. Homer's own skill at making t.h c gods memorable c::~ uscd him to be hanged from a tree in the "Pythagorean *6labasi1'' (Hiet'Onymos of Rhodes, in Diogene9 Laerdus VIII.21 ): " Pythsg:oras in Ha des saw the soul of Hc-.s:iod bound to a bronze column. and the soul of Komer hanging from n 1rce and with snakts about it. in payment for what they s.1.id nbout the gods , . , .''The tr-.dilion of N:.'))tOaching old poets fot· fai ling to achieve ''modem" undefstanding of the gocb, exemJ)li(ied by HerakJeiiU:S, Xen01'1hanes, Plato a nd other visionaries or a higher moral order, seems directly connected to Christian apocalyptic Cl'eacioos of the punishment or blasl' h cmcrs Md foul•mouthcds.innen:; Dieterich, Ndryia2 1'29; but Pytltag(II'A$ hirn:~ctr would have miss<'d. without Homt~r·:~ gr:tce. hi$ r~ . vorilt- incarnat ion 11.$ Ev p-horb~. \ V. Burkert, fAre a111/ Sdmu J'tJ Arrciutt P) 'fluJg .,.q, ''I'artaros \\':U a dark place inside H ades, a mutMs of it (Library 1.'2), not c:scape-pi'OOf (cf. M. L. West, /::atl.J'Grrd( P/rH()S()fii!J' ( 1971] ~6) . Ha rpie$ and 1'btlell:.: ch<"~ l)l~r 5 p. 169. ~L See M. Robertson, " LA.omedon'$ Corpse: Lnomedon's 1 ''omb," CRBS 1 1 { 1970) 23f. ~2 . C h;lJ)ter 3 note 10; W . RO$Chcr. Nr};((fT lind AmbrMia ( 188:'1); P . T hieme, "Ambrosia," Swdil'n .tur illdGJmntmi.sdtr. Ulqrfkcmdc~ uml Rlligiomt'.Jthiclrlt. (Bcrlict BVSA W g8-!t ( 1952] II .!!')>= f;t&infl &briflm [1971] 14-51'.) ; "Nd c· tar," ibitl. 1.5 ( = R . Schmitt, lndogr.rm~t~~iuht. Didtuopf(u/1~ 1Jg68J 102f.) : H. Lommd, Numm ~ ( 1955) 196; C hamrainc, Dit'titwurirc~, with ll.oisacq , " triolt\~)hec· de In mon" (possibly by the dtink of immorrafity) . 23. T he scholian adds t he nece;,sal')' ful'lii· ltl.l'e tO Her:?~ '$ tlllllmnos in Pind!lr'.s scene of rape. Py tltiau 2.34 ; for the sexuality of !IJ'Dris in carl}' GreC"k tragedy, R . Lattimore, StiJQ· Palluns i~t Cruk Tra~J:t ( 1964) 22; in la\'' M d poe~ ry, (). MacDowell, "H)' l)l'ilt in Athell..\," Crw~ tl!ld RQme ~3 ( 1976) 1.1; a horss; who i! lrybrl'tt.t-S c~m be cured by gelding, X ~:n ophon , Aj rqJMM.t.il.l V IT.;,.&.&; J . K. Andcr.son, Ancimt (;ruJ: HIJrSCIIan.$11ip ( l gG•) s8. 2.4· Cf, (;, Pel:ad, ,;\"tk)•iai { 1969} ~7. for 1hc :scholi :as1 '~ g;,tc:ss th:tl Sisr i'Jh();j' famil)' did not tell the whole truth :•bout him ; the older ta le m01y ha\'C.: inch•dl'!d ;1 wooing .,r t he queen of the underworld for her ph}'Sical eh~trmr, as Peirithoos, honoring his f:tt hc;.r h:iOtl's blood, hop<'d 10 marr)' o r rape. h~r (;\p<>UodotOI;I, Libror,)• Jl.s. 1'2). '25. For the political transparency of H eJ'akJes• apotheosis, J. Boardm:m1 JHS 95 ( 1975) rr., Rt.rulrdJ ( 1972) :)7f.; H. LloydJ ones on H eraklc:s a t l::lcusis and in the U nderworld, Mai<J 19 { 19G7) ':l06f. 26. f rom a sc-holar's 1heon:cic;,) viewpoim, t ransformations. and metnmorpt10lll"'S h~ve d ifferent. cuh-connc:ctcd ass.ociation:s II) god · dC".l.'CS \"hooe animal po'''c rs were recognized ftom ptch i:s-101')' to late amiqujt)'; J. Kondi:;, "Artem i:~ Bl'auronia," Dtlti(llf '2-:t ( r967) 156f.; L. Ghali . K~h il, •• hnag<';l of Artemis" (Leelure, .Bo!ton 3 December 1974) llntJ.· ~o { 1977) 86f. ~ AniK 8 ( 196!.) 2or.; W. Sale, Rl11\fto8 { t96!t) 11, 118 ( 1975) '265; Uurkcr1, /-1;\' 39f. T he gr:we-mouud of K allisto 10pped wit h fruil ftsl a nd fruill t.~ t rees (Pau.sanias 111.3!)·8) matches the susp«.ted grave of Iphigcncia at Brauron ; such "dead im· Copyrighted material NOTES TO P ACES t t S-144 mortals_.. m•'Y be anima) in my1h but human in c.u h· praccicc-, and capable of appeari.ng lO l ocal imaginations in both forTn:~. In J)Oetic fiction when th e mortal hilS transformed to animal: the &tory often stopcs, lc.aving theimpression that he i~ immorta l in that guise. 2;. Cf. A. Krappe, Tk Si:itnee ~ F()/k·Lou (1930) ch. XIV, " T he folklore of Plants"; J. Murt, D ie Pjl(tn.:,p:u.vlt in rkr grUdtiuhm ."-'(),tho./Qgie (•8go)> I ;1m iodebted 10 Mrs.. Linda Peny for her illustrated am1l)~is of the myth ological plants;]. d e Romilly, Magic and RltdM'it in A11dtnl Crtm ( 1975) 26r.; the importance of IOodst uiU tor magic is clcru·, liCe R. Scaford, CQ~,s ( 1975} 201 01\ magos:u.1d mag~:ir()J the cook; D. I,.. Psge, FQ/ktolcs in Hom.n's OJ;pse,.v ( 1 97~) 65f. ~8. There a rc several Glaukos figures in the Greek s<:a and in myth, pcrba~ falsdy d i.itin!fi.Jished from titles of traged)' as Claukos Pontios., PotniCLL1, 'l"a.raxippos, or tlle Minoan prince; s«: H.J. Meue, C;•,.,II'Uisium 62 ( 1955) 39;l.; .Rocscher 1.1679 {Drexler}; REVI1. 14o6 (\Veicker} (and Ovid, Mt-la!._rNJrphous 13.290, Schol. P lato: Rtp11hlie X.6 J t c) ; Fausanias JX.22.6 for G1aukos of Anthedon {" a fisherman who: on eatjng the grass, turned into a deit)' and ever since has told men the futureu; at 111.2 1.9 distinguished from Ncrcus}. Ghmkos was re.sp<:cted partic.ularl)' on Delos (joined in an orade with th e Nereid$), Naxos, at Methymna, Co•·int h, Cape r.•ta lca, Gythcion, :U)d laryn:m.O.S in. Boiotia; it is JM!rh<•(» the Boioti;m conm.'Clion which ca1.1&c..-d Pausomias to complain, "Pindar was not much moved to sing the tale of ClaukO!." See abo Nils.'lon, GGR 1::. 240 (Meerd!tmonen}; E. Buschot, Murmi h!ntr1 SBMiinchtn (1941) l l.1f.; K. T. Shepard, Th1 F~'s.h- TniUd lilomtn in Gr-uk Art {•9-J.O). 29. Cilgame"$h's plant is for youth, called ''Man Bec:Ornc~ Young in old Age,» ANET2 g6; lnn:ula !)6, Adapa 102, hhtar 1o8; C. S . Kirk, Myth, Ju Mullling and Fu~teli~ (19iO) or 107f. SO· J. J), JkAAicy, " T he ROlli Kmc~," )liS 67 {1947) 1f. ; L. Stella , MiJologia Crua (1956) 656. Bcatky dated the kratcr to ca. 4$0 a.c. w ith a tenta th ·c attr ibution, since the vase; had 80ne, tO •he Eupoli:; P., a nd oom· p.1.red Nt.:w York 12.229.14 (G. M.A. R ichter and I,.. HaJJ, R.tJ-Figurul Athnti()n Va. Cor the 6nt time i.o G reek (two !etten on the Rosi hater; poss-ibly al l't'ady in Bacchylides ?) ; Apollodoros 111.6.8: C. Robert, Oirlipus {19 15) n, 48, 4!1 n. 37 i lkat.ley puts together the Aris-tophanic scho)i;t, The texts tell us that the gift of immortalit)' could be inherited like a ny palp..,b]e treasure, and passes from Tydeu.s to Diomcdcs. 3 1. fkaz.ley, OfJ. C"il.. note 30, Schol. Ap. Rhod. IV. 57 ('Hcsiod' f1·. 1 t ), End)·rnion. receives 1'0 ~Wpo•· iv' o.ti1'~ 1"0.JI.4av Elvat Oo...·&.,ot~, 0'r'E 8iAOt OMoOo.t; R. l\..(ertclbach, M. L. West, Fmgmrnla Hesiodta ( 1g67) 245· On EJldymion's sleeping with open C)'CS, as in death, C. RolJtrl, Biltl :md LitJ ( 1881) 49- 50 (l..ikymnios or ChiO$) . 32. J. A . \'\7ilsoo, in H . and H. Frankfort, Beforl Pirilos()p~y ( 1949} 113; ANE'P 405, u A Dispute ovc:r Suicide" (lkrlin Papyru.s 3024, A. Ennan: " Ce!prilch cines Lebem.muden mitseinerScde," APA W ( 18g6] ~; R. Weill, BIFAO 45 (•9·161 89). 33· E.g. F-R III pl. ••6 (London E 466); Berlin F 25 19, CVA III pl. 38.4; Berlin F 2524 {Curtius P.), CVA (11 pl. l t !.4i r•·. Cuirand: Cmk Af)·th.olo._{' (1g63) 57; I have not Cound C . Smith, S&~nrise ()1f Crttk Vase Paintings,· but profited from S. Roberts: "Sun and Moon in Came-lion," AL"- loc.t ure December 1976; c(, K. Schauenburg, "Ge$.timbiJder in Athen und Untcritalien/ ' AntK 5 (1962) .;•t.; N. Coldstream, " A 'f heran Sunrise," BICS 12 ( tg65) 34 tr il!:f to idcntiry :u1 early H elios; Selt:ne a.od th e liule fading $l:l.rs an; not popular until the fifth century. 34· But cr. W. Leaf on Iliad XIII..p the Cabioi of AischylO!I, Pt()nut/l.lUS Unhomtd, the most just and hospitable of men (fr. 196 N 2 j, and tl1e probability that Abioi «js really a proper name, not an epith et 'having no 6xed $tlb$istt:nce\ i.e. nomads . ... " Th('. Argippaioi {Herod '"' ''8ipp~ti oi M Kalmuc ks; poulbly ~nted under their ,blmlitum-Ghcrry tree. inS. R udenko, Fuu.tn Tfl1nhs of Sibn'ia {1970) fig. 154 (J. K . Anderson). 35· NilMOn c.:on3idercd lh c Hnj>erides- of Hesiod's Tirtog&nJ' (215, 275! g34), with thei.r gold apple-$ aod snake, to be an offshoot the f.ly$lon them('. from a n Egypti;u\ source, made into twi.ns or triplets from the single Egyptian or Copyrighted material Nons TO PAGES ttS-144 tree-fair>• with her gold fruit in t he underworld, pan of a general Dronu Age intercuhural \' hion of the gardcl'l of the gods with a tree of life. MMR 2 626. He feh that e.be Minoan c,ontribucion was to pl.:tce the gardc:.(l far overseas; but see chapter 2 note !)1. T he H t'.s-perid tra.d.ition is u.n!table, tOr the number of maidens, their parentage, whether they lived on an iJ~Ia.nd or a. ooa.~t (of Africa), a shore covered with o1pple; (or $heeJ)}, ROS¢her !.2594 (Secliger, Drexler) ; RE VJI I. t243 (Sittig); F. Studnia ka, J(yrtlll ( a89o) 15f.; L. RadentU\cher, Al)thos ~nd Sog6 ( 1903) 224; A . Lesky, Tho./.atl and Heroes," Huptria 33 ( •96.t} 76f., poirus 10 the M:pu!cbr:U tht:mc of apple• pickh1g (.u iJ.t 8CH 8!> [ rg61 J 604; 8 . Ncuuch, ROmMitl6o-6r [1953-:,4] 62f.), :s.hown in the SotadC!I P/s Hesperid cup (London 0 6, ARV2 763), matched with t he cup ofGiau.koo' reoovc.:ry fr()m death (London D 5) . A man plucking fruits from ot t ree "Jll)e:u1 01) a crude thirteenth-century Myccnnemr Vl\$C style and has been considered che first Hc:-r•a k.les fcu:hiug the appiC$ (V. Karagoorgh.is, AJA 62 (19.'">9] 306}, although it may be ot venion of an orit--nta l genius with a date p..""l.lm. The classkal claboration of the Hc~pcrid theme consi:stcnd y str nsn tire peaceful, rt'mOte character of the ma.idem, t heir care for thcir snake: and t heir Jo\'e}y ..-oices (My~vo' Hesiod. Tit. 27~, dr.ot&l Euripid es Hipp. 74·3· Vpv~Sol Hl'f. 394; t't$[1.upr.ov Q.ol&H.Io-o.r ApoUonios Rh. IV. 1399, ).fy' ia'f€vov 1407). An arC'.haic mythographical tradition blends th e Hea:perides with th e Harpies, Akousilaos B.; D·K, Epi.menid c11 B 9 D-K , Philodemos On Pie!"1 9~· T heir affin it y with darkness is emphasttc:d in the romantic bc:licfthat the apples must be pid:C"d between sunset a nd starshine (Schol. Apollonios Rh. IV.t3!)6) . 36. 11u:. mov.:able cape, or cliff, or island Sarpedtln, or perhap!l Cape Cremia or Paxi (How and Wells, A Comm.tnla'? tm Hmll/oi()S [ 1928.) on Vlf.58), OJ)J)()ts.ite Satnothrace where Oreith· yi:r. WA$ CArried by Boreas (S<.:hol. ApoUoni<:l$ Rh. 1.211) 1 or in th e Tro.'\d1 Or near Miletos or Xanthos, Sarpedon's town where Ha rpies are a t home; the etymological connection between Sarpedon and Harpy matches dtc· mythical :lMociatioru; see Roscher IV.393 ( IIT\miKh) for a list of Sat'])(d00$1 and RE II:~ 43 (Zwicker). 37· C hapter 1 notes 42, 62; chapter 2 note 23; the mytbjcaJ alternation of caves and islands as cattle-past ures for the sun and Hades i.s no contradiction since both are cirC"U.Jrucribed and concealed and are often interchangeable in fairy-tale. 38. J. H. Croon, Thl /Jerdsmmt tiftlt4 Dtad (19.5~); but a d~th·$pi rit who doeJ not take vicci.IJ:I$ is an cxJdjty at le:1..1t; even t he herds.r:n.'\n Menoil t~ who worked for Hades above ground (Apollodoros ll.s.JO) is a \.]ctim underground when Herakl.Cll breaks his ribs; called son of K euthonymos, a fit epithet for Hades1 of dee1> inte-rest «;r Persephone ( II.5. 12) 1 Mcnoites may in 110me IOCiLI tradition be their only child. Neither Mtnoites or Geryon ha\·t· willing contacts with the human race. 39· T he derivation of Gorgon from the verb ga~g- is, like most etymologies in myth, d isputed; T. P. Howe, AJ.4 58 (l954) 21of. on. 7- 10 [gargotrizo, gargouille, gargama, gargatta1 gargoyle, gurgle]; Ch:u:rtr3i.ne, Dicllormoirt1 t hinks of a $lmple fenlale dragon Gorgo, li.ke Mormo, but the weight of the evidence suggests a noise behind the f..-u;.e.. Cf. below Ol)tC 41 . 10· ChaJHmine. Ditlitm~~ai~6, s.v.• "(airc entc.ndre $."'\ voix, faire connaitre, chanter." For t·h c Other singer$ and voices of the w~tern seas (c-hapter 6 p. 'lOI }, t he S irens are obvious (A,yvpfj 81Ayovow &o,Sfj, JC..ii.f4) 1 as are Kirke (8m~ OtOr a.VS~to-a-a. x.136), Kalypso (dor8uWoo' Cesc.hidue Copyrighted material PQ/niQ Thnon ( rg6g) ; K. Fiusebcn, Sng~ular· sttllulfgtn ( 196!)) 127, 152 ; R . Hampe, Friihe grl~MJch• Sagm,J,i/de.r in 8oit>tit11 ( 1936) ,>0, 67; T. Howe, A)A ~8 ( 1954) 201J; Kunze, Sthi/Jbiindu 6sf.; !\'( . Milne, Bulletin of lhe Mtlrf)/)0/itan Mustum 23; A. l,..etky, ENnW 52 ( 1954) 8; l)indar, Ol)mpion 13, 92;. F.uripidcs ft.312. 13· On Mrcen.aean ft!tH (Ta 716) and the double axe or sword, E. Vcrmeule1 /Jli1F.-i .)7 ( 19!'>9) 14-; 'ti.L Vcnui•,J. Ch::~dwid:, D()(;Utnall.t irt MJr4?1tu'Q11 Cruk'= (19; 3) 502; :\. ~lorpurgo, :l1J·,rmtuu Grau.italis Lt-xik()n ( ag6g) 353· ·14- i\pollodoros JII.x.3. 45· The two important recent articles. of Page and Robertson, supported b)' readings and illltlj)l'etl\tions of\<\/. S. B:uTt.lt, Pllt th e J)OC(!l a nd its ;u·ch:.ic illustrations in IIC\'1 JW:r$J)Cctive: 0. L. Page, ''Stesichoms: Tht G~ryo~i.s/ ' )f/S 9:~ ( •9H) 1381'.; M. Rober1· 1Kln, "G(!J)'Qn~is : Steskhorus and the VasePainters,'' CQ 1g ( tg6g) 2o-;f. I' age coiJecu the Homeric analogies for the debate on death and immo•·ta litr; Robert!iOn l i:~ts :\II t1'u,: illust rat:ioru and djninguis.hcs the winged Sr~chorean and Chnlcidian versions, and solves the mystery of the birth of the herdsman E~1rytion to one of che Hettperidi, El)·theia. The tale of Heraklt'$' raid on 0el')·on's cattle ;md the ext.raord.inary wanderings of their return w.,s a curiously popular late archaic theme; Pindar fr. 169 (H . Llo~·d·Joncs, f/SCP 76 [1972] 4!'/.}, Isthmian 1.13, Herodotos I V.S-to: Apollodoros l i.V. to; the moveability of Ceryon h.inuel( is attested b)' Pal.t$anias' attractive s-tor)', 1.35·?-8, of lhe discO\'Cry at T crt•Mothyrlli in l.ydia when the muunt:Un t r ('St broke olr in a storm and '' th e•-e a J)JX:arcd bones the shape of which Jed one tO ~UJ)J)ose th ey wen~ human, but from t heir ~ize one would neo.·cr have thought it. At once the story spre.'\d among th e multitude t h:'t it was the corpse of Gcrron son of Chi')~Or . , , and a torrent they called t.he l'i\·er Ocean, a nd they said that men ploughing met with horos of cattle, for the atory is t hat Gcryon re;u-ed excellent OOW$.-" See note 47• 46. Or named for the Hcspcrid Erythela who mothered Eur}'tion, Robertson, op, dl. note 45; Apollonios R.h. I V. 1399 and Scbol.; Pausani.:u X.t7•5i C. Robert, Ntt"mes 19 (1(U4) ¢•· 47· .J. H. Croon, 'rlu H"dsmnn ()j iJ11 Duzd ( 1952} m:i.ke.J >\ oons-i11tent C-:ll;e for l1 .. death· god" i St.'t RE Vll.t290 (Weieker), RE VI II. 7i5 (&itrem) ; RE XVI 1l.t 50. Page l\lld Bl\rreu, ap. cit. note 15• 1$01 .see this scene in slightly d ifferent wa)'ll; Page, "Lf I am immortal, so much the better; he c.1.nnot kill me. 11 l am not, then I would rather die w.ith honour than survive withovt»; &rn::tt comnot $CC. th e first p.-..rt of this in the text. Page rightly emphasizes the like nt$$ to Sarpedon in lliorl XI1.332, Ceryon as "a noble and sympathetic person." CHAPTER V ON T H E W I NGS OF THJ> MORNING: THE PORNOGRAPHY OF DEATH 1. Ox. Pop. 2387, \'01. xx:iv, fr, 3 col. ti; 0. L . Page, CR 9 ( 1959} t61 PMG ~h LGS 2; W. S . Barreu, GnmtWn 33 (1961) 663; W, Ileek, Philolngw 104- ( 196o) 163; D. A . Campbell, GLP 2 13; T. B. L. Wel»tcr. Grttk An ttJUi LituaJure Jl.)()-530 ( 19~9) 37 n. 50. 2. A$ in Ketu:J to Fanny Brawne, •• J have two lu_x-urie& to brood over in my wal ks, yOur Copyrighted material N oTES TO PAGES lovelinC$$ and the hour of my death. 0 chat I (;Ould have c.he poe~i on or the both in t he same minute" (25 Jul>' 1819). On d'-·ath 01$ marriage see note 48, and chapter 1 note 25; on gentle death, J. Fink, "Sccle, Tod, Rachegeist," O]h -H- ( 1959) toof. 3· Sappho95 L·P; H . Fr ;, usually discussed in connection wi1h death, Hypnos and 'l"hanatos or the grave, e.g. C. Robert, T/u:natqs, 39 BIVPr (1879) ; Bild w1d l.it-d ( 188r) too; Fairbanks., AWL 1 ( 1907} :J46; Hcinemanll, Than(lto,s; RO$Chtr III. '2o68, V. .,.O t (Oeubner, Wascr) ; RE V.799, 1245 (Lesk)') ; E. Pouier, ,\W,uws Piat -:z~ {1916) 39i H. Sch<~ll, Gf'i4hi.uht VAA"Jt ( 19~3} 4-P'.; a rC': Criuhische Kul:pns(Jflijika.ti!Jr..tR rkr I:Orhtllmisli· sthd z~it (1g6..) ,.,r.;M. Lc.umann, Homerische WQrta ( 1950) 145-178 The other principal epithets of Slec:p in Home•· are &mjf'M' and r>..vKE,,s; tJXb,\co-, and "'1.\l}r \...·hen it causes trouble (x.G!), xii. 37·.1); it i11 a gift (VI1.482, 1X.Jt3): allied with l(ciJMCTOS' {x.g8) and sex (x:iv.353) , as in the Tyro (J)isode (xi.2+4) . For sleep ru a kiUc.'T i.(l a eonttxl of Stillin.g an a nimal to be sacrificed, see C. WatkiM, ' 'An lndo•Eur0p1.•..an Wor' Mflrl e ( 1962) 197f.; P. Wiesr:r.tan, Mu.rHtlu 19 ( 19;2) S· Pausanias 11 1.17.5, 18.1-2. for divine twin11 a c SJ)a.rta, Roscher 1.1156 (l"u.rtwlingh:r)1 S. Wide, LaktJnistk Kullt ( 1893} 304f.; S. Ei1rem1 DU g611&hen {willingt lui Jm Crluhm ( 1902) ; F. Chapouthier, Lu Dioscum au mviu d'wu Dit~se ( 1935); and in general D. WIU'd, Dici,&e TwiuJ: FolkJore St.odies t9 ( rg68) and " T he Separate I''unction of the lndo-Eul'opean Divine ''fwins/-' in J. P uh,·el (cd.) , MJ·IIJ artd Law Among the lruJoEuriJjMaru ( 1970) 193· R:\mnO~L~. NuiJ (note 4) may have c:xmfused th~ t'WO SCI.$ of StatUC$ mentionod by Pausani.u; there i11 rtO evideuce that Sleep and Death were WVI.'lden or particularly old. 6. Pausa.nias V.18.1, a much~uoted pas- If. For the statues of Sleep and Deo1th at Sp..uta~ ~e note 5• T he bead in London a nd the statu e in Madrid, H. Winnefeld. l/.)opnos {1886}, H. Schrader, H)fJ114s (1926) ; A. Blancko, Mu.seo dll Prado~ Catn.Wgo &nllhtul ( 1957) no. 8g, pll. +3- +!J· sage, 'lff'IJO[TJ'f(U ~ ~ r.<JiSa. .\€uN0v t.a.va Exo '1fa.i8a..JCa8ni&V1'1 toucOnt~ dp.t/Jo1'1/>()us St~a~paiJpliiOuS roiJ~ w08os. $7]Aoi [.4(11 &t} Ka.l ,.d, irnypO.pp.a.Ta.~ ovvEiVO:( 8( I(Q' 61'fv 1'W11 i'fwyjXlp.p.&,.wvla~' 9clva,.ov 'rE Etw:u. o~s l(a.i ·yr.'VOv t (t9f36) is mostly pictul'tll. O n Sleep as a bird, O'Arcy Thomp6on, A Olimar,y l!.f Cruk Birds {1936) 108; Aris•ode, Hi.~t. Anim. IX.12; C. Watkins1 inJ. Puhvd (ed.), A1)'lh (Till[ Low AtnOt!l tM lruk-Europum.s ( 1970) 1, Sacrifices to Sl!!ep a t Troi2cn, Pausanias 11·tP·3i his statue in the 3anChJar)' of Ad:.lcpios at Sikyoo, II.to.'2:--on.e just a head, one .- pair wi1h Dre.'lm, in which 51'-"e'J) t he G iver "lull$ a lion," :u:ad Fr;t;c;r'll c.'Ornrnentary. On Sleep and Dream in healing cuh11 and oneirotherapy, E. a nd L. Edelstein, Asdf{Jiw {1!)45} JI, 140f.; on the magical propeMit$ of slt'ep, f'. de Wa clt; Tit~ Magic Staff ( 1927); C. Germain, Cclise d~ I'OJyssk ( 1954) !)17i on t he qtutlitjct or slooJ), f.. Risch, MwHti~J •9 Copyrighted material 7pQ.fo&v. Cf. Frazer, l'au.sanin.s t,~d l~K .; Rober1, 1he hollow$ in the cnrth ofTherapne and the Tlunu:tos: l{OIIchc:r 48 1 (\\' aser) ; an imcresting J>.'llacc.s of heaven (191) : " 'f hcl'e i~ a light n.:con:~ truct i on by H . Jones, ]HS 4 ( 18g4) pl. about t hem, but it is light txperiencirlg 1; cr. K . Schc.:fold. MJlh ami 1.-tgmd ir: Earl; change, Ot double {Qp~k~VK)j} •. . t he outCruk Arl (tg66) fig. 26, nfter W . von f\4' rode on /U:;/::t tlrw 65 (1963) 'l791'. 'f hc: lur in the Pol>'- horses (like the Vedic a~vins) ; and they were neikes.-Etooklcs p:mel i.s a r;arc ill~•str:u ion. not heedful of the love of women ... 11. On 1he child ·lwins in a mother's arrru, with talons- a sphinx ? ( V . 1!).6) . sometimes regard«! ru Oion)'SOS' c.h ildren i. l 1l addition to th e l ~ts of S l«p and O inopion and Staph)•loo, or the Oioskouroi, Oc;aLh liCCil c:~ abo\'C, note ,., cf. Beazle)' , C -ll or l':limeros nod Eros (t\cropoljs 2536. C -L ii, no. 70 for 1\: Jcm,lon ; F. Brommer. Vo.unpl. 104; cf. pl. 29 IU.tn: ~ ( 1972) 3¥lf. ; C . Lung. M tlltJJfNI ( 19 12} ; 1 6o3a) . see£. S imon, " Ein t\ nthcstt · rion-Skyphos des l)olntnOtO$," tlntK and note 24 below. 6 ( 1963) 6f .. < u.'ld Die GO.fttr tfl'r Critdltn ( 1~9) 8. J. Kakridis, Httmnit Rt~tlrdte:s ( 194-9) !!18: zso; L. S tella, Milo/4gia (;rua (195b) 75r., E. Ri:sch, "Zeph)•ros," Mus.l·ltl:l 2.) ( 1968) 'l83; N. H ilnmdmaft-\Vilthchut-:t, .(ur Eigtnart 205, E. Howald1 Mus Ntlu 8 ( •9.:) 1) 111; H. tlr.J kltusiStllr.J Ciiuubilrl ( 1959) 14 fig. 3; 0. ~·(. Steinml"tz. "WindgOHt r/' Jrll ·l5 (19 10) 33· Robinson, .olJA G o ( 19!)6) 6 J)l. 4 fig. :22 and th e rdMions ·~·ith Hypnos~ Th:m:tl<x:s nnd (probabl)· not N imeros and Er~ as thought) i Harpies; on re-al "''i nds, RE VI II A .2: 2211 Ali i' t 4-'l, 143.2, 'l62 . 4~1 · (.Boker) , Bore~u lll.710 (Bachler); W. 12. 8 . Alldl'('ac, '' HetakiC$ und A1k)·Oneus,•• 1\gaTd. "Boreas <'H Athens," CJ 6 1 { 1966) 241; T. B. L. \Vebstt·r, P411~r and Patron h: ]JI i1 ( 1g62) 130f. ln Theognis 207, the Sleep that perches on the e)•clid~otmen in epic and Cla.uicol :ltlu>ns ( 1972) 2!)4-· i 1.1 1he pCpi>!v. /1op(rw (X IX.358) ; lOr the moumain out of whi.;h the n(U'th wind blowlJ, J. D. P. Bohon, 'f he winged d emon·figurc i:J :t.l:~o oon,·erted tO Ari.Jiti7.J (f.{ Pr«2) +h 93; c;f. death in :u·t, A. La ky, "Eine neue T:'\l()r$1o HiJ)ftOkr:ues. Ain, Wal.t•J, Plam 19, Scy1hia V3.Sr.." :lA ( 19]3} t. 13. The n l(lst f:unili:1r c;.l:t.s$iC-0'11 illustr:nion " lies right c,:.losc.: tO the nor1h :snd to t he Rhip:ti:m mo\mtains~ from which the north i3 the t~:tn l,.'s lek)'lho:s wit h Ariadne and " 'ind b low'$"; sec J. Des:nn ds. "Le.s monu Sleq •, Theseus, Peirithooo. and Night; see L. Riphtts <:t Jes Hr perbortcns," k eG ( 1971) Curtius," Lckythos in 'farent," 0)/t 38 ( 1950} ·289. Jl()f(::\$ i$ c l® :lr ~s(l(:ia t ed with Cap·t J(. ; f.. S imon, "Z~• r J.,.ekvthOtl d~'S P~u1mal ers i1\ T:\rem." 0]11 •I' ( •954.) n f.; 1he-scene was Sa rpl~On or the Roc.k ofS:upedon (ch:tph:r ·• nolc :36). where hi$ bride O reithri{t ,.;,i~d a mong ~·I ikon'$ dcoora1iom of t he Th ~eion1 t heir daughH;r KleOfl-!ltl':'l a mong n Orn\$ in Pau$ani:u 1.1 i .'l. l)(::~:d .;y t hought the lck>•lh(ll$ the e:.ve, tO run 1he rod:~ with horsdikc spCQ(l laded lig ht n~ or touch a nd 1'nigln be :1 eopy, (R . C.J cbb on Sotlilocla, Anl ig<mt l 1891) 96rf. A RV"' 500.5. " in t he wilds of Hat.-m\IJI ") . See below note '4· :\. Bo-eg•~hotd . G'RBS ( 19i4) 36 pl. 35· Boreas' rn(X' of Orcitbyi:l wl\s oonsidc.rcd 6 ( fo~•rt h ·CC:IIt\11')' black gla..7.<.:d kantharos}. so elO-$<: ;a m y1h i ~;::tl comuerp:•rl to J;:.o~· rni>C 'l 'l1e M~alli C gro~t p of €1"0$, l,-limc;ros ;1nd Po rhO$ of K<:J)halos, that the pai n \\'Cre mnde br SkopM in Mega•·a. "i(indeed th<'ir act ioru sculptural pendants on the Tc.mple of ApoiJo a re as different as their names," Pausanias on Delos. l.43.6; cf. r:. H auser in f'-R I H, 26, pl. 124 ; g. E.g. Th.anatoo P., Athen! N:\·1 183o; J. H. Uulte, .]Jt 56 ( 194 1) 140. PctMs kills, in Boardman tl· al., Cruk Art and .-trdt1~tttt11rt x:i.2o2: it pains, xiv.144-; i1 has gosds, Plato. ( 1968) fig. 162. Phaidros 253 e; it possessei •h e living when the 10. J. 6. Bury, Pim!Qr• Nm1um Odu ( 1890) d e3d wen.: good, Herodo1os 111.6;. a nd m:\y OJ:I ,N,.m~Qn X, l()r 1hc: twins ahem:uiug hc.:1wc.:cn bring 1lu~ m b:sdc 3.live? l!O there i:~ hOfH! for •a :n• Copyrighted material NoTES TO PAoEs 145-178 Euripides wh en potllos bites at Dionysos, Arilltophanes, Fwgs 66. Of. J. P. Vern;u,t, M.JthUI Ptn~U 2 ( rg$g) ~,)6(. 10r the power of pqthqs to raise phantoms, and to C:\'Okc the dead in sl~p as in fun eral rit<s. For Protc.··· silacs, whose raising from the dead by )ove is astragals, and funerary art, R. H ampe, .. Die S tele aut; Phoar,s..'llos im Lom·re, .. .8H'Pr H)] (•9;•). 18. H)'11f1lll1 HtrmCJ 434; SophokJcs AntigfW i81 j C. Murray, Rise •tOt a <:ommon (;reck stor~· (more South Lhc archer, " he makes a wound " 'hich looks halian) but nw.~t have occupied Euti()ides' Protesil!lfM, see Burkert, HN 2:6gf. (' Vampir- 11light • •. but rhere is in ic gesebiehte ') ; he notes :tn Apulian shi;J'd with tK~,pc." Protoilaos in Had~-s, 2'i(l n. ·~ = K. Sc:h::u.~ erl · burg, Jrll 73 ( rg,s8) 68f. ; see now H. R. W. Smic.h, Fmwary SymbtJ.inn ir. ApuliM Vw~-o P(llnling! ed. J. K. Anderson ( rg,G) 188 on BM F ~72i in gencml E. Frtiukcl, AUd!rba, AgonwtLI'N'Jn ( 196,) on 4 16; C3tu1lu!1 68, 75 ; Ovid, Htroitfls 13. 15. W. J. VerdcniliS, MIU1TIW)m 28 ( 1975) 410; :<.3g8. 16. Sappho 2.9; Anakreon 417 P, 88 D., Alkmao 1.461 I bykos 287 P; Tbeognt~ '25i1 1249! 12671 for which J. Ca,.--rib'C ( Dude cdi· tion 104) quote~ Ari5totle's opioion on mn.rt:s, Nisi.. tfnim. Vl , 18~ 572 a: "It\ cag:erncs.' rot sexual imerc::oun:e of a ll remale animaJs the mare comes fin • , , , ?\·lar4;:~~ become hone· mad (bippom:mi3C), and t1H; term der ived from this one anim;,) iiS apJllicd b y \\'ay of abuse to women who are inordinate in thcit• sc.-.::uaJ dcsl~·~ll · Mt1 1'~'$ AN.: J\11<0 3nid to get im1m::gn:ttcd b)• th e wind at thi:s .sta.s<>n .. , ( they run north or south, to the-seO\ if pouiblc;) at that s•~ge t1le y discharge a certain sub· slanee whicl-a ... is th e chief thing sought after by women who deal in phihres nnd dru~" (A. l,.. Peck, Loeb edition [ 1970)). On KiA'?s as a sesual image. either a rast hoNe o r ;\ )':'lCht. J, Henderson, Tkr J..tlN:fJlarr Mu.o;r ( •9?5) 164; phallos·hcadc:d hoNe, H . Licht, SitteuglMM(htl ( 19~.:;-·:lS) II I, 79 (Uer)jJ\ 23:l0). . ' 7· 1~·. La..u erre, La Figure d'Er(ls clant Ia JN>'.fh Gruqu.e ( 1946) j T. Roscnmeyer, "Eros· EroteJ," Pl:oori.t.) ( 1951) 11j t\. Greifenh:,gen, Griedtisdre &olm ( 1957) , A. Furtwiingkr.. ErQs ;n dtr griuhisdten l'aJtumalnei ( •8i4) j C. Sellman, !JS,I 26 (1~3) 88; J. Harrison, Prolf!gflr!J.ma 6z¥'·i E. Simon, Gf!btllt du Apltrodilt ( 1959) ; C.l•lafner, "M:a.rg~ E ros," MwHdl.l 8 ( 1951) •37i 0. S~C'.m erenyi, StuJi Mi"rui 3 ( 196'2) 82; C. Doulter, CVt! C le"·e· 1;\nd 66. 1t4, pll. 32- 35j L. S tell;,, Mit(J/()gia Grua ( 1956) 26of. G rcifc:nh::&gen li$ts the attribut~ Jl· Ggr. For Eros the gambler, with ;1 bun1ing (>Oison from whic:h the str ic.ken mnn docs not 19. A. Scve.ryns, HQ.Itlire III (1948), IO!J. ~o . See F. Co1nbdlack, The H1ur at TrUJ'• Jllhsl Homer Didn't Tell ( t9{)8) 40f., :..hhot~.gh th ('rc Achillo rages until he rcmovt~ her hclmc-t and sees l)cnth csilei" "t\tlnteti,·e even among the dead/' T he archaic compositions begin ahord y after the Aithi(!/JiJ: Kum;e, S Bca?:ley, C-B iii no. 1+7: C . E. Lung, Mtrurwn ( 1912) ; RE Sui' IV, 887 ( Maltcn); f:. Studniczka,Jdf26 ( 1911) 132; E. Wlbt, " Oie Soeh:nwagung inGricchenland und ;\gypten,,. ..frt:I!{Rtl36 ( 1939) 164, RE ~3 .~ ( 1959) s.139i E. Simon, Ct!Jmt t!tr Apl1fodiu ( 1959) i:lf., 1 to n. +!t; W. POrscher. "~·loi.ra, T hcmis und 'rep;~ im hometische Oenkcn;• I Vit11u Stut!irn i3 (rg.Go) .)f., especially 14...2:2; C. Robert.. SuJWt dv /li(Lf und Ailhit1pis {J89 t); B. LOwr... z ,t U' .1\.i chiopi~ " ,/fwr ]llhrbiidttr ( 19 14) 81; C. Van &sen. "Psyehosta.sia," BA/ks.c/1 39 ( 1964) 1~6; (th elic.·\lcs hang (rom a tree) ; Erot('S in the sc.ale· paM, F. St udnic~ka, )d/26 ( 19 1t) 140 fig. 58; phalloi~ fig . 57; c;f. H. Licht, (192!)-'26) Ill.t43; G. D;idrck, Eraoo1 ·13 ( 1945) 58; chapter 2 notes 70- 71. 6ea:r.ley notc!l the comptetiiou of many of the pic:.ture4 into t he two generations c. .;Oo-.j.(io n.c., with precursors in the Bout Creek br. SitltngtStltidtU hydria and the Vitnna bf. dinO!I 3619 by the P. of the Va.tican Mourner; although a Copyrighted material NOTES TO PAGES 145-178 considerable share or the C'arly lifth- pictures arc earlier than A..i!chylos' P.IJC!um4Jia wi~ h it$ 1't.J)Ort c:d magr\ifict:~H t ~bteau of go& on the 1/wlcgli()ll (cp. di. 44). The Attic pictures have Hermes hold rhe scaln. f'r~inkd does 1'101 like 1he ;lSI()(;:i :~ti on of A re$ th e gold· changer holding th e b;alance of the llptar , Atu'~)im, t l,amtmlfM ( r!J6a) on 437f., with the P.J.rthosum'<J scenes of Aisc:hylos or th e AithiopiJ; ue lntely G. P. O lrelleue, REG ( 19il) 309. :l3. l\L Col1\$tock, C . Vc:rmeuk1 Swlpture in Stcmt: Tlu Cud, Etrusuw (tJU/ &man Collte· litmS oftltt M11stum tlj'Filu Am, IJoJtcn ( 1976), no. 30 \\'ith bibliography; 1'. Studniaka, Jdl 26 (1911) sol'.; H. M6bius, Charitts (Fest· schrin E. Langlou. ( 1957]) 47 ; W. Young, B. Ashmo1e, 8MF.4 56 ( 19$9) 124. 24. C. Sourvinou-Jn...,-ood, "The Boston Relief and 1he Religion of l.oc-ri F.piuphyrii," JHS 94 ( 1974) 126f. On bound nnd tp-e11- bound caJHh•c.s, J. D. Bl".:u:ley, "The N(:w York Phlpu: Vn.s<.," AJA 56 {19.5OS (,.;Y.~!) or N SCP 77 ( 1973) •J'Jf., c(. J. Kllkridi•~ Wi~ StuJi4'fl 48 ( 1!)3<>) ~~; K . Reinhluxh , FutJdrrifl R.Sndl ( 1956) 1 ; E. Simon, J);, Ct~un J" Apirroditt ( 1959) go; J. Oiggle, PkatJhrm ( 1970) ; j . Frazc:r, on Apollodoroeo ll App. xi ; C. Rolxrt1 "Die f,ha.cthonsage bei Hc:siod." Her~m.f 18 (1883}; L . S tella , Mito/Qgio G'ruo ( 1956) :J86; J. Bide2, f.'M ()U P/tUQil li I'Oritnr ( 1945) ; T. B. L. \Vcbstc:r, PQrtn 011d Potnm in 247 Clmsital At!Jou ( 1972) +4• notes the pair of IO\'C·gifts by 1h e P;~. nt(lxtna P.• Eos and Ti1honO<S, and the Dea1h of Orpheus, and the common conversion of love myths to funeral mrths. 27. Chapter 2 note ~7· 28. C. L. T hompson called mr attention to this pass.n.ge; F. DuffiCrc-, NtrtJClite, tfl/ig()ries d' J/omh1 ( 1962) 72 no. 68j the problem dr-(ld J disuutd lies in the interpretation ofKO~w&v1'wv. C(. Artcmidoros: 011 Drtams I.Oo, " If a man d1·eamt of i.mcrcou1'SC with s. god or goddNS it is a sign of d eath and being ready to leave his ea.•thly bod~·. " 1''he fwleJ'al before dawn: chapter 1 p. t8 and 6g. 17 f l'he Sappho Painter) . On the. throne. of ApoiJo at Am)'k:Jai .it was Hemeru, Mt EO$, ,vho raJ)Cd away 'Kieitos, the same fus.ion ns h«e, Pou~nill$ Jli.J8. 12. In th e oonte>:t of che Greek tcndc:nq• to displace Hellenic erotic; impul5n onto exotic c::reatures, J. K. ,\nder'$01\ rec;,Ued the ,\m crican popular .song " You're :. sweet• hdtt in a million, oh oh ob oh, Auror-a I With }'Otlr m:tl\ll t •· l!O Btazilia1t, oh oh oh oh, Aurora! • 29. R oscher l. •s9S (Drexler) ; R£ Vll.r. 737 (Friedla.odc.:r) ; H. S ichlern\ann1 Gan)'mtrl, Mytlm Md Gtslalr In dt.r <Jnliktn Kwut ( 195-2), with iVI. J. Milne's important rt.-'View, AJ..t 59 ( 195!)) 68; 31 i$Su C arc the Creek-sounding name1 at vari:mce with t1le ·t rojan ancCliU')', and the role of noble CUJ)•beiU'e!' tO the king set against the pass.i,·e cmm.tlt(i$ role; cf. R. "'OJ\ Schcliha, Patrokl().r ( 19·13) g88; L. ~blten , Homt-J 43 ( 1918) 165; H . Lorimer, Hom~r dJ'IIJ lhe Monumr.nts (1950) •188; Ph. Hnmeau, " Canyrnede et l'Aig.le," BCH 86 ( 1962) 193r. with bibliography; K. Phillips~" A Ganymede ~·los.nic (rom Ski1y," tfrt Bulletin 4:1 ( 1961>) <244. T he incarnation ol' th e raping eo...glc is earlier in :art than pot:tr)', thoush not bc!Ore the founh C::CI1hlry, but is a J<>gicaJ domestication of the carl)· d eoath -fi.gure3 :~s well 3.~ >\ na1uraJ ex1e.nsion of the ('agle who siu on 1he stall' orZcw; in AJexandrian or Lali.n poetry the eagle gro~~ hooking elaws like .$LQrm wind!, e.g. Non.no:s, l )iQn.Jila!ta ~,). 430, 1~0$ ~' (dTUICTO Oo' ai$(pO') i::-TU:,...Wi~ QS,tir.o•s clvtix(oo• rdl~:roro ,..o-r;,.,,. ~(ipwv. z.;'f 30. 1'ltectymological incerpr~;t:~ t ion(Ify(lvu• as produ(:ing ;~ g-le:.1m o~· pt"Jiish upon 1he mind I members of Zeus (cf. G. Na.g:y, CQmparath-e Sll/.rlitJ ir: GruJ: am! lr:dic Mttl'f f'~&Q, Copyrighted material [ 1974) App. A, :z65f.) may not reflect the terms in which the C rcclcs fi rst thoug-ht or this mythological figvrc; but the fiftb·century intcn.:st in eror..ica $VJ)J)OrH~.d it rrC$hly, ~ in the fragment or Sophokl~' J(Qf&hirla, JM'}pois lmo.Wwv 'l"i]v AcOs- Tvpawtha (fr. 320 N') . 3 1. O n behavior patterns and gifts bcrwecn. era.fl.t.t and eromtMS, J. D. Bc:uley, SaJM Auk Vt.Uts in lhf C()lpr~~.~ Mumun (PI"()o(;eedinp or the Briti.sh Aeotdemy 33) ( 1947) •95f., K . Schauenburg, "Erastes und Eromenos/' AA (1g65) 8.)0; E. Vcrmeule, "Some Erotica in B08ton," AntK' 12 ( 196g) gt; 0. Brendel, "The Scope and Temperament or Erotic Art in the Greoo-Rom;m World," in T . Bowie, C. Christensen, St.udie1 in ErQlit Art (1970) gf. T he custom seetrl$ co have no rcl.ation to l!ngli:sh cock-a-hoop, w hich refers to generous drunkenness. 32. Wings, ftuuer1ng, bitd-imagC$ of both sex and fear, of alteration and disappc:aranee, M typically in Euripides (Htltn 478, 668, SuppUur:Lr 89, fat~ 7g6j, in t.hc trndition of Auakreon 52; pc.f ;pwrt. -rrt;ptxo.p~s 8 '~,n7"UJ.'4l' "':.\.' in an old trad itiO!) of Eros Md Death. For Eros in funerary imagery, Fairbanks, AWL I ( tgoj} :ror., and 6g. ~9 here. f'or the sexual implications of wlng,s, H . Licht, Sitkngluhkld4 Griedtmlturd5 ( •925-'l6) ; G. Vorberg, CWtsarium Ero11'eum { I!J32); J. Marcade1 Elos Kalos ( t962); .J. Henderson, 171# M4crdau Mu.u (1975) 128 on n7lpwv, wdpvf1 s1ang fo r phallos; 'W. ArroW!mith, Arim• n.s. 1 ( 1973) 16.;; C. Wolff, "On Euripides' Htlm," HSCP i7 (1973) 63; H. R. W. Smith, Funt~af)' Symbolism in Ap1dittn Vase~Puillti.rtg, 00. J. K. 1\ndenon ( 19']6) 33f. ; for winged dcadJ· carriers, K. Petcn, "Unbek;mnte attisc;.hc Oinochoen," Jdl 86 ( 1971} J03f. and H. KCJuter, note 33; wings and propbee)', P. Wolt·e N, .. Der gdlllgelte Scher," S8Mtbuhm 1928. 1. 33· N'ott:S 8, 3"2 above. l'bi!l kind or death ;, :'1. dro1, into deeper invisibility than Hade$. where kin11men might Stt the unhappy wom<:n. ThueUa and the HarpiQ are daughtens of Boreal~ who h:we Tari:'U'O!I a.<; thcir "moira," Pherckyd~'$ ll.5 O..K ; t hi.'\ wi.lld)' wet n);lring place (chapter 4 note 20) il not " wci,al," :md one need not be cmbarra.uod there by t.be erotic impulses which ('aused the di$3.ppear~ ance wish, any more than in the concealing O<:ean. E. Rohder, 1/trme.J tl~r WiMgott (1878) ~ 13gf., 144. On the fwing of windgods, dawn-figures a nd Jove1 see abo H. Kenner, .. Flugelfrau und f'lu.gddS.mon," tJJh 3' <•939) 34· E. Risch, "Zephyros, " MusHtlv 25 (tg68) 205; KN Fp 1. 1o, Fp 13.3; PY E.a 56 (?};Iliad XV.591, XXJII.st ; REX A 234 (Z;eglcr). 35· l b e youth is often called " HyatinthO$"; with a eharaeceris1ie OOI\fusion whether the "wl:$t wind" aarried him off for love, or whether he: rode his lovt'r (kiUcr) Apollo's swan O\'er t he waves, to the back of the North Wind. M . MdJink, N;'GkintltoJ ( 1943) ; Roscher 2759 (Roseher); RE JX.7 (Eittem); Sicbtermann, Jdl 7l (1956) 97f.; Beazley, C-B iii.:zo, CrttJ: Vos.u in Cyprus 223; E. Ver· meule, AntK 12 ( 1g69) 14; for the parody, wi1b the girl on the phallos· bil'd, BerM 209!h H . Licht, Sillmgtl&hirhtt ( 1925- 28) lll, 76; j . Ma:n.:ad~, Erot Ka.WJ (196-l) 103. Zephyi'O$' wotship in Athens, Paus..'\nl:u l.37·2· Zephyros alternates w ith Boreas (tlte blue·t(UI.ned st:tllion) A\ father or t he ·rrojao horsesJ JliiJd XXIII.~:t3 ""S· XVt.•soJ tbe harpy-bird Podargc; the wind a component in horse anntomy since th e Shafl O•·av~; Aiolo, the wind-king son fiippotea (X.a); a case where the familiar language of $lang and h)•per bolc also hu mythological consequences. 36. l'. Demargne, Fouillu d' Xantlw 1 ( 1958), Lts Pilim F111:traim 37f. with bibli· og••aphy, 13 t ; f:. N. 'Pryce, Calalogue oj'SeulplW't in 1M Brilish Musmm I.i (1928), 122, B 287 (t he Harpiet; are more properly called Sitt'll3) _; RodenwaJdt, SBB"IUt ( 1933) to28f.; F. J. T ritsch, JHS 62 {1942} 39 ; Weiclter, Suln:tiOGfl 32; M. MeUink, Rah~rd! (19:;6) 21f., 34, 37· Chapter 4 note 36. ,a6. Chapter 2 note 46. 39· In the huge literature on the Spb.iux, see cspcdally RE Ill A, 17o6 {Lcsky) and S u(). IV, f'l9o (.K.rr~ts) j K. Kouroun.iotc:s, ]d/ 16 (1901) 20; C. Robcr1, OidipU3 ( 1915) 1.53, ll. ag; L. Maltcn, ]dl 29 (1914) 2:42f.; P. Jacobst ha.l, Die tTMI~Iotn Rtlitft ( 1931} tgf.; F. Eiclller, "Thebanisehe S Jl hinx," tJ}h 30 (1937) 75f. ; G. Rodcnwaldt, "Metopc: aus Myker:tae," Corolla L. Curliw ( 1937) 63f.; M. Ocleou.rt, Otdipe ou Ia llgauk du (Mquirmtl cr. s,r. or Copyrighted material NOTES TO PAGES 145-178, 179-209 ( 1944) 108f.; M. Renard, "Sphim: r:wis. seu3es ct 'tl:tcs couptes'," J.attJmw 9 ( 1950) 303L; N. Vcrdelis, " L'.-\pparition du Sphi.nx ~ ns 1'Art Grec, .. BCH 75 ( 1!)51} tf.; :\. Oessenne, U Sphinx ( 1957) ; Hampe, Crabfwuf 6of., (4; H. Walter, "Sphingen/1 Antikt umf .4lmu!land 9 (1960) 63; W. Ponig, "Das Riitsel dcr Sphinx," in R. Schmiu, ed., lndoger!'IUlm'sthe Diehtmpradtt ( 1968) 172; K. KUbler, Knttnlliko$ VI.2 ( 1970} 'l..pf.; J. Boardman, "A Sam Wide Croup Cup in Oxford," JHSgo ( 1970) 194; U. Ha usmann, " Oidipu$ ~md d ie Sphinx," J 46. Chr. Karusos~ "~omA• E11 Niou.m>,'' .4M i7 { 19&.1) 12 1f. pl. 35· 47· C. Giangrande, "Sympotic Literature ;md Epigram," F()fl(/ali(Jn Hardt XIV ( tg68) to8f., 110. I am indebted toP. LaZebni.k and D. Stern for th eir translations. 48. lklston 03.8o1, Fairb.'tnlr.st AWL II: 118 no. 6, pl. 18.2; l.26f. cr. CHAPTER VI SEA MONST ERS, MAGIC, AND POETRY 1. 'f 'imotheO$, Persai 31 1 107; 88 is even liner, the tisll-ctowned marble-winged boooro of Amphitrite; the modern G l't<:k poem ls "Charos" (Ke.ph:tliC'Jli3), A. Thumb1 Hand· book oftlu M.ot!.tm Gruk Vmtaeula:r {1912) 218, 8 {8 . Schmidt, Gr. Miirthen W'll1 VIJI.klUthr [ r8;7) no. 18). Byron's verses are quoted ilt H . M . Field, The. Cruk /stands and T~nl'.f)l aft~ lhe War (tS89) 152. See th.rough out, A. Lesky, Tha/.attQ ; Drr Wtg Jer Griull1n ,um Mter (1~7) ; L . Radermacher, " Da:s !\·leer und die Totcn," An-t Wirn 86 ( tg.H)) 307 a nd Dos ]tnseits im lHyti!Dt clv Helk-Mn ( J90"J) 73r., M)1h4t und Sagm ( 1938) 2i!); J.... Oeubner, ArehfRtl 12 (1909) 57; J. Rudha M~ La thiii'M dt l'eau f!rimordialt t!anJ la m;CC note 16. 2. 1''he image. of d e~d men as fish oecun already in the a.nnal:s of tl1e Asiatic Campaigl1.1 ofThut-mo.se III, ANE'P 237, "Then the.ir borws and their chariou of gold and s.i1ver were captured a~ a.n easy [pn:.")·· Ranks] of them were lying $U'¢:1ehcd out on their backs, like fi~h in the bight of a net, while his majesty•, '•ictorious a rmy counted up their p(ll$$4!:;sions, .. 3· S. Eitrc:m, "tleroen dcr Sed'ahrer," S,ymbOsl 14 (t9"J5) 53 and 26 ( 1948) 167; I owe this reference and ma.uy othCI'l tO H. A. T hompson, who is working on th e bero at Sounion ;. d'. •&W'N)JJO l'l~ 'Ewt"Jpls rijs .oo~J(ijs Exo.\J}s 1'oii lla.vunO"JJt.lou >lfh,vt':w 14 (1963--64) 276; C . Picard, Rtt~~C!'tlr 16 {1940) 5i for boat-races, Pr-a.z.er, Pa:d4nias, on 11.35· ' · 4· On the fXmtos and iu Rigvcdie :~.na l ogies, £. Benveniste, " Probltmlcs 3tmantiques deJa rteon:s.truction,.. Problinus de !J'nguiJtiqut Ctni· rak {1966) 296; W(Jfd 10 {1934) 2~1; F. Hoti.'Seholder, C . Nagy, Cufftnl TnmJs in LinguiJti<s ( 1972) 48 ; cr. L. liolla.od , Janus anti tlt.< Bridge ( tg()t ); J . Hallet, "Over 'f roubled WateD ": T.~Ptl 10 1 ( l970) 2 19; E. Vermeule, S. Chapman, A]A 15 (1971) 'l.93· 5· 1~·. Combellack. " Homer•$ Savage Fish/' C] ...S ( 1952) 257; ef. H. N. Couch, "Fishing ill Homer," CJ 3 1 ( 1936) 303; W. 8 . Stanford on Ody.u.ry :t\'.479> J. A. Seou. "Homeric Heroes and r:isli/' C] 32 ( 1937) 303; AnlhPQJ Copyrighted material NOTES TO PAGES I 79-209 the namo a re still obscure, but aU )ink«< by wll-ter functions. The drunkc;n Triton (Pa\1· sania.~ IX.20.4} wa$, one .suppOSC$, a hoax, and the head removed so that its gills 01· fish face. would not undermine a tourist's confiTW~ :xfMwv became 3 provel'b. cr. J. P. dcnce;8ec f tazcr, PausuninJ, nJ {~X;,; a dl•soug:? BrQ'.vn, "Co:unological Myth and t he T una T he 3maller one at Rome h:.d the he.;ad, with of Gibraltar," T1fPA 99 ( 1968) 36. hair like ;t manh-frog•s in c,olor. For the 6. Most vividly, S. Brunns•\ke-r, "The popularit)' of sca·monsters: Pausanias I L1 0.2, Pithecusan Shipwrec.k," OpRom 4 ( 1962) t 6j.l'.j on the huge bone in the sanctuary of t\s.klepios C. Buehner, R6rm.l#u 6oj6t ( 1953- 54-) 47· at S ikyon . For tepJ'(:$emations of T1·itons, Ordinary Geometric ship s.ccnes ln C. among other$, H. A. Gt.ag:m, 11 ~'f)'th ologic.al Ahlberg, FightUtg on Lnrul tuUI Sell in Gr«k Themes on the Plaques from Pc.nteskotlphiu," Ct-Mtetric Art ( 1971) 25f.; E. Kunze i.n Fesl- AA ( 1970) 3t; P. Bruneau , C. Vacin, " One NouveUe Mosaique a Dele»," RCH 88 ( 1964} ,d.oifl 8 ..'i• in C. Rol>c:rt, 2991 37'61 416f. In a. parallel way kaMpontisl1t(IS Srnkl>jNwgrdiif.' ( 1939) 5·'• n. 135; K. relieves crimir.mls and $C:apt:g03U from their Schefold, "Zur ~i:s d e:J Domititl:s Ahenoguih. barbu:s,'' E.suz_vs in Mem()ry qf Karl lAhmann 8. Angelo Maio, Sdwlia Antiquo in HQmtri ( 1g64) 279; P. Bober: ''An Antique SeaOdysuam ( 182 1) xii.g 1. See aJso F. Cross on 'l"hia.~os in the ltenaissance," ihid. 43; r··. Leviathan in Ct~nGtlm'te ;Wyth nnd Hebre1D l:.."pit: Eichler, " Thetill und Ncreidc:n mit den ( 1973) . Sc)'Ua's motht'r Kr;aloais :u:ad her \Vaffen :\c.hills,-'-' ibid. 100; F. Brommer, daughter Lamia arc less well known, but "Okeanw," Atl ( 1971) :2g ; S. Uenwn, ]HS Lamia \YtU a renowned swnUowt'q c:l:l;Lt)le•· :l go ( 1970) 19 3; Of• modern Creek M-'<\ U.fe,J. C. not·e 17. Law~n, Af<Jdn'11 Cruk PtJII:lnre am! Antin1t g . .J. D. £kazley, The Leuv.s Uortse Colf«lion Cretk flt.ligion ( 1909} 1301'. tif A11tihlt Cmu ( 1920) no. 103; RE Ill .-\.647 . t3. M . B. Werner, Bar!tbm ( t923) 36f'. (Schmidt) . gives the history o f t he F~.--ejee Mermaid (I owe 10. T he Arniadas stele, Fricdlinder·Hoff- the reference like many oth eN to J. K . lcir, f."pigrmmnata ~ s. c. 58o (?) (sec Bibliog- Andel"$0n) ; she and anotbCT are exhibited :u roph)' p. ~ 6;}); L . Jeffery, TM L«o.l Stripts qJ' the Peabody Mu:seurn at Har\'ard. for the Ardutie Crt«~ 2+3· ' '• pl. .._6; cf. ~·lenekrau:s, Siren orr t he Sandwich b land!! Kc: Bernard no. g, c. 6~.5; DeiniA$, ('.orinth, c. 6~,jeffery HeuvelmaJ):S, HiJtQiru el Ugtnd1s t4 Ia M" 127, 131.6: pl. r9; for cenotaph,, Jeffery ]NS M,Jllbinu~ {1968) 135 ; she c:mitted "cri$ 78 {1958) 'f5· N~.-~ or Sikin(l$, ea.rl>· fifih <~igm." Cf. j ean Merrien (Frtmirwille), Lo cent-ury, W. Pt.- d., GrUrhisdu Vm·ltUt:llriflct Ugtndoiu de la Mer ( tg69). T he Tan:c.ania 163 . The fifth·century stele from Amorg()(S is mermaid was reported in the San Francisco characceri~ tic of the newergenre, Copyrighted material NoTES TO PAOES 179-209 in the taps o• the C u ccb uU'ns; for doon it earn'a wutld do I ca' it! it was the wund o• the Lord's ang~:r-an' a' tbat nic.h1 we foudu Ulte Oltll derncntit) and the nioot that we t enned we were ashore in Loeb U.U:.cvagb, an' the cocks were c;rawil'll( in Benbccula." "It V.·ill have bttu a nu:rnlan, .. Rorie ll:aid. "A mermao !" K:rcamcd my unde with im· ruca.su.rablc "Ofn. •• Auld wivcf claversl l llcte's nac sic things as mermen." ' 'But wh1U Wai th e CfCIU\lr¢ like?" J Mke it- man could .say nne mair," nu:n Rorie, smarting under tllc: atrront, told SC\'c ral tales of mermen, mcrmaidi, and .sea h<.mW:$ that had cumc 'bure u pon tho i.slllnW :..nd attad:ed C"TC:\\., o( l:x»u upon the Jdl; and my unde, in sphe of l1i!l incredulity, lis.tcntd with unca.~y i.ntcrt.s-1. he said," it mR.y be .sae: I m••Y be wrang; but I Jlrn.i nne word o' mermen i.l:'l 1be S<:riphlre$." '' Awed ~ awed" fRobert Lou i• Su:\·eruon, TIM MmJ' Mtn (1913) (23-24)] 14. Apollodoro$ Libt/11)' 1.6.3; on wine as inimical to nature daimons, A. U!sky: TJtalauo (1947} 131. 15. See rccerHiy, K . Schallt:Jlb\l.rg, "Zl• attisch-.s:f. Sch;tlen mil lnnenfritsenJ" 33f,t An1K Beihelt 7 {1970) j W. j . Slater, " Symposium at Sea/' HSCP 8o ( 1976) 1 161 • 70. The California State Senate Minority Leader noticed n. simi.lar dichotom~· in the d is.tinguilhed University of California faculty l'ince the Berkeley Faculty Club wti l i e<:ns~ to :~cll li qt•or; "I've S(Cn ma.l'l)' things ou thut campus that we wed not to allow on the )l\lblic; strl;(:.\4" (Dnl~v Cal, Ml\y 1975). Hernkles :~om etimt'$ crcm..'$ t he ,.;a on a. ROl•t of wi ne amJ)hOnlS instead of tb e C up of the Sun : R . Stiglit-,, O]h 31 (1939) • •3· 16. On the wisdom o( sea-daimoru, K. O'Nolan: ' ' 'f he Proteus Legend," Ue'm:LJ 88 (1g6o) 12gf.; J-P. Vc-rnant, " "f httis et le l,obnc Cosmogonique d ' Aleman;• Hrnmnagts iJ Marie Dt!CJJUtl (l.tJutm.us I 14 ( 1970]) a8f. j M. 0 ..-tit:nnc:, J·l'. Vernam, "La l\·tttls d u Renard er du Poulpc," /Uult id lt.udu gmquLS 82 ( tg69) 291; 8o ( 1967) 68; M. Delicnne, u Lc JlhOCtue, le (J'abc, e1 le fol.'· geroa," Hrmt1mtgu DeCcou.rt ~ 19. On Prote l l$ Ol.Od th e. oth er prophets, Vemant, "Thetis" 43 n. 1, Si on attend de lui une r~poruc A w1e qUCJtion, il doit ln donner d~orm<~~is &ans ambiguitC- n.i feinte. de fa~ tJaire e• un i,·oqu e. AinU Je rwe a lrouvC plu5 ru~ que lui; le vigilAnt a it~ Jutpris;. lc maitre d1:11 licr1.1lie; cdui qui d&oula.it tout un C·)'cle de mew.morpbo6es se voir :\ son tour en- <el'(.le; le poh'lnorphe a 61:6 ramen~ A une forme unique; l'Cnigmt~tiquc a Ct6 rend u clair. C f. K. Oeichgr.lbcr, "Die ~·h;11en., Nt..-n::idc:o und OkeM.i.nen in Hc:sioc:b Thc:ogonie," AbU1oinz (1g65) 203; and for duplicity, A. Lesky, TMJ.ua (1947) 27f. 17. J. Bohlau, .. Schlangcnleibigc Nymphcn," Phil4log4S 57 (l8g8}, M. Heinemann, Lnrtd.«IIIJ/llilht £1emt.n4 Ut rkr griNhiul1ttt Kwut bil P4ljognot (1910) s8; Munich :uoo ABV 2o8; J. Harrison, f>roJrgt.m't4M 2jg; Nilsson, CCR 12 !l+f-, pl. 49 =+· Connected with lbykO$ 286P, it-'0 fla.pO&wv lri}tros ci.K"'jpa.1'0S (Beazley), or with the make-L:tdy Delphyne,~p.W,p {Apollo• doros I.6.3), or with Hcrnklt$' snake-maiden in Se>•thia, Hcrodotoo N.g. 1, 18. J. Boardman, IJICS 5 (1958) 6f., Boston 88.827, manner of the Corgon Painter. T he bruises and tears are not visible without desire to sec them. Cf. $. B. Luce, "Herak:les a:1d the O ld Man or 1h c Sea," AJA >6 ( 1900) 174f. 19. F. Brommer, '' Die KOnigstochter und das Ungehauer/' MWPr ( 1956) 3f. with bibliograph)· and li3t of vases. 2 0. A. Scvcryns, H(mflu I ll ( 194B) gor., on the enforced silence of Thetis on land, like other mermaid~ ovt or their element wbcn raped by men ; t hese marriages are t)·pically unfort un.;uc. 21. For the dragon's tongue as proof of victOI')', see .J, C. f'raur on Apollodoros, Libt(uy Il.v.g, n. 2; Second Vatican Mythographer {C. H. Bode~ l. lJO), S. T hompson, l1.1(t:iflwlt.x qfPclk· Liltrotu.re ( 1932- 36) H. 105. J. K . Anderson and W. O'f"lahcrty quote from A. tang~ Tit~ Pink Fait)' B«>k ( 1897) 209 (after L. ConzenbAch, Si;:ilioniJdu. Miirdtrn) ''Give:: me your d;mghtcr, 0 K ing, for 1 :slew th e 11even-hcaded t~erpent. And ll$ ot J.igo that my word.s are crue 1 look on th ese :~<:ven tongues which [ cut (rom the seven hel'ld!l." 22. !\'l , Schmidt, ' 1 Ein Zeugnis zum Mythos von Orphe~Haupt/' AJtJK 15 ( 1972) ~ ~sr. Terpandcr coruuhs the head; A.RJiZ 1174·1, l401. 1 23 . J. d e Romilly, i\.fogU and Rlu:(lrie ( 1975) passim; "Corgias et lc Pou\'Qir d e.: l:t Poaic7 " JHS 93 ( 1973) 155; W. Burkert, RhM. 105 ( 196-l) 36; J. Comb;uieu, Music, /ui.Aws am! &.w;..,. (' !109) 8!)1. Copyrighted material NoTES TO PAoES 1 79-209 24. V.78$, XVlll.222; Hcsiod, Th. 3 11 ; ShidJ 242; cf. Pindar P4ian 2, 6.f- ·rr(ap)0/,'0, xM[K€q.) KE)!aS[to .. J n y~vKW al.i~( vO,...o .... Cf. P4ian a~ 94· The hard word am be. joined, by an c:.xpc:n, dp7"umjs j the mouth or speech forged like iron (Sopboklo, AiM 651 and R. C.jcbb ad It¥.) . Ci. R. Wycherlc.y, CR n.s.. 9 {1959) 205 and Anth.Pal rx.s4S· 25. Comba.rieu, ttp. til. note 23, 102, " we $0\)' ' 1h es.inger ha:s cl~arrn', forgetting what it means.'' 26. J. de Romill)', Magie oM Rhtlon'c ( 1975) 17; ef. S. Eitrem, " 'f he Ntcromancy in the Pcnac or Aeschylus," 5)mb0sl 6 ( 1928} tf., and" Mantis and m$0.-yra," S;~mbOs/17 ( 1938) gr.; H. D. Broadhead, TT~ Ptrstu (!/ Atsth.ylus (1g6o) 202, App. III "Nccrom<~onc)'/' "Very important were the tone of the utterance$ and the exact reproductjon of words or fonnuJae, rh)·t hmical ddi\·ery and rc:petition b<:il)g characteristic." Cf. also W. Headlam, CR 16 {1902) 52; H. J. Ro..sc:, "Ohc»t Ritual in AeKhylus, " HThR ·l3 ( 19$0) ~57 · Phrynichoi W~ll supp0$ed to have sajd "The S(lul·raisers bring up th e souls of the dead by certa in magic chlltlts" (Broadhead. foe. cit., Bekk~r, Anmlt~ta 13) ; in Luci-an, Dialt~gl,les of the Dutd 3.2, Menippot e:<J)I:lins to the oracular Trophonioo who g:we glimps.es of the under· world to customen , "You a_~·c a <:otpsc like us. diff('.ring only in your gQlttia.>• Cf. J. Caro Baroja> Die Htxtll und i!ut JVtiJ (1961); W. Fauth, '" Die lkdeutung der Nd:rom~ntie Szene in L ucans Phar$ll,lia, " RhM 116 ( 19;5) 325. T~ Boston CMtt reported (24 January 19 7~) that poliec in Payson, Ari2ona, ar~ted three young women "who had been hauling th e decompo.sed remains of a ;r,·year-old n\an around the ~;tate for thtee montb:~ while attempting tcJ tt:\•ivc him thtough prayCl'." 2;. S. Oakari;,, PrakliJ.·a (rg6t) 1o8f.; abo Ddti(Jil ( 1960) Chron. ~0'2; ErgfJn ( 19!J8) 95· {196o) 10;, (•961) n8, ( og6.f) 5 1; BCH 83 (1959) 66;, 8; (1961) 737; ]HS Ar {Apollo Cuidcs, n.d.). The classic ancient pa•t.ctage tbr £ph)'Te i.i Hcrodotos V.92 ( Peri· ander :~.nd Mcliss:a) ; (or the orade of the dead at Phjgalei.a, Pawru\ias III.17.9i Taina.•cm, Phu~rch, Mornlin s6o E; He raklea Poncica. PluUtreh, Kimtm 6; these .3.tC un cxc~vated. See abo ehapter 1 note 1; Lucian, MmiPJHM or Jtfrkpmantn'a. 'l8. The bibliography on the Sirens is much improved by the delightful discussion in D. L . Page, Fo/A;Jolr.sirr/1(}J'Mf's0dysu.'f( 19i2) 83f., 126 n. 20, and the O)'iter quotation from Dickens' Martin Cku~tltwil· ch. 4; for further information on the Oy\ter's heart and its rhythm! I am dct-J>ly indebted to [\•fr. Bernard Ash.roole. The major v.-orh are Weicker, &elnwogel; E. Bwchor, Dil Muun des ]ti'I.Seits ( 1944) ; £. K u112e " Sircncn," AM !)7 ( t932) 12+f. See abo RE III.t. ~9 ' (Zwicker) ; J. Harri!l()n, Prohg()frl<'lta 197 o. 3; Roscher -t·6o..tf.; H . Schrader, Di1 Sitt?wt Mtlt iltrt"t Bllleutung urul KW1$llen'Mhtn Dauttllung ( t868) ; C. Cennai.n, Cml:u de I' Otf_rJSil ( 1964) 382f.; R. 0. Barnett, in S. Weinberg (ed.), Studit1 PuunuJ tl) Htll)• Go!Jman ( 1956) ~3 1 ; H. Frankfort, CJiiJTdtr Stals ( 19~9) 7~ 1'.; C. Picatd, "N~~ides t-t Sir~nC$," E/l,ldes d' Ard:M· Iogie (;raquu, AnMhs dt l'litJ,te du Hctuii.J• Etv.tks df Gond 2 (1938) 1.14-; K. Meuli, Od_mu ~nd Argorw.ulika ( lo/-1:1) 'l5; 0. Levi. :J].-i 49 {194-5) 28o; .J, Pollard "The BOiton Siren Aryball<»," AJA .;3 ( 1 ~9) 3571 •• :vtuses and Sirens," CR 66 { 1 95~) &, Sun, Sltritsts aNd Sirms ( 1965) ; C. Gtesscth, "'l'he Homeric Sirens," TAPA 101 ( 19i0) zoa; M. Kanowsk.i. "'fhe Sirtn'.s Name on ll Corimhian Ary· ba.ll()('!.," AJA 77 ( 1973) 73 (but the etymology seems old and faulty) . He5iod frT. 'l?, 28, 33, in R. Mcritclbach, M. L. W~:$1, Fragmtnl4 /JtsWrlea (1967). 29. Weicker•s illwtta.tion of the Naukratis sherd London B 103, Setldlr:ogtl 45 fig. t8, $bOw.s the S ire n UJ)$idc down; possibly the sujc-ide ootiOr\ had already occurred, but it may be r01.ther the 5w0<>ping birds o( other se8•ftictura, or the tradition of the ba--soul flying down the tOmb sh:\fl, which the arti:st h.a$ in rniod. lO· E. Bu.sc.:hor, DU Mwm cks]tJUtit.l (1944) made an eloquent argument ror this position, as it develops in Euripid"• pc::riod and begins to affcc.t funeral an, Eupfjvtr-, tr9' ip.oiry&ots ,uO>.ou·' (Htlm 167). 31. C. K. Wllliams}J, E. Fisher, "Corinth 19;2 : T he Forum Area," He.spnia 4-2 (1973) <Jl'., v.•ith an appendix by j. L. Angel on the bones (the hand ftactured jwt where it would be exposed grasping a sword, but si:nce the head and nose were noL battered. perhaps he ha.d not lived " the lire or a watrior"). Copyrighted material GLOSSARY There arc a number of Greek words in the text and C."lpti on~1 not always easy to translate wirh the proper nuances, or tc•·ms for object$ li_kc vases, parts of the body or soul. Vases are listed separately. bn-soul one of the three individu:ll Egyptian souls:, 6gur«l as a small bird with a portrait head Jaimrm a god: supernatural, strange, or monstrous power, individual t image, phantom1 a more substant.ial apparition of the dead than ps)•che tkpl:rmt the J)t'O«Siion wilh a corpse from pos ho~•se to grave the sung ritual lamen' for the dead1 crying, grief iD.Jmw.s a dirge or lament ktr a d eath-spirit of uncertain origin and changing (orm: female, with taloru and tec:th; may be clothed like a woman (XVIII.538) or naked like a sphinx; a rnvis.her and swallower Keramti~s the burial ground of anc-ient Athens; the potten' quarter ketos a gener al word for sea monster rnakor ~ibly mt.tha t-h e word for both intellc:c;t, p1ar:as, and for genitals, the two .upc:c::c:s of power borrowed from Egyptian mookht.ru, " j ustified by a voice before god, '-' a term used at the e:otamination of the dead in the: underworld; when ..justified" the blt:SSed d ead pa'l'l~ ro the happy lalu Field$; for the Greeks, applied to the god$ and to the ble!:Sed dead mmos strength, of body or emotion or soul mNnto mmra memorial, cither int.angjblc or a grave monument. tomb fate .Ntk}•ia th e: rite of raU.ing ghosts; the name o( the eleventh book of the OdysYi)!, and of the beginning of the twenty-fourth book (Second Nelcyia} fiiJUJ pluu!'l14 the organ of pen;eption, then reason ; the mind phantom potmos destiny jwntlusi.r the laying l)Ut of the cor~; ch e wAke ol." vigil PSJ"-he wind-breath, soul; a mu.U wUlged uiclc-f'igure representing the d ead smUJ a sign or token; the sign by which a grave is known; a tomb sqmn body_, 8c:sh stomion mouth, j aws; the doon,·ay to a Bronte Age IOOlb; the entra.noe to th e underworld ltmtfltJs· a (sacred) precinct, marked off 253 Copyrighted material 254 GLOSSARY Uwlos a rour\d build_ing; a Bronze Age corbelled beehive comb lllwnos the source of feeling, passion, emotion; used of life. sometimes of mind, soul FORMS OF GREEK VASES amphora a two-handled storage vase with closed neck arybaUos in Corinth, a $(1)aU round oil 6:1.:$1 with a Oat liJ, dino11 a round wide-mouthed mixing bowl without handles or rcet hydria a water-j ar with a tall back handle~ two small side hMdle& kotyle a tall Rat-bottomed cup, like a s:kypbos krater a broad mixi ng-bowl for wine, with two h:tndles ~d a foot lamax a chest; applied to clay coffins of ches.t--shape lekythO$ a taU slender oil Oa.sk; a oommon funeral giO: loutrophorO$ Creeks meant a boy who brought water for the wedding (or funeral) bath; archaeologists mean a tall slender vase with high neck~ often a wedding or funeral gift; a stone version becomes common as a grave-marker in the fourth centur)' oinocboe a. sm;~.ll jug for pouring wine pelike a baggy venion of an amphora phormiskos a non-functional arcllaic vase shaped like a clay tc-ar~rop akyphos a high Rat-bottomed c-up See-. C. M . A. Richter and M. J. ~HJ~. Sfutpu tmtl NllmmJfAlhtftiCJJ VdJts {t93S); R. M. Cook, Gr1tk Poinltd P~ltlrJ ( 196o}; U. Sp;\tkC$ and L. TOl.lcott, PtJU rmd PQJU qfCIMsittJl AIAmJ (1958). Copyrighted material REFERENCES FOR TH E ILLUSTR ATIONS LondC)ll E477, Heph.aiitoa P., ARV' 1114-.51 ClOW'toy of the Tom~ or the Rriti~.h M\U<e\Jm. F10. 1.; Pa.rls., Biblioth~que National, Cabi· net d<> Mtd>illa 3~· ABV 346·7· Frontis:plcce Boston 34·79. Lybon P., eour· tay ol 1hcc Mu:scwn of Fine A~ Bos-ton. Paris. BibliolMque 1'\attonal, Cabi· net da MMaUles 355, ABV 3,W.8. CHAI"''ER I flO. l Fro. 2 fto. 3 FIG. 4 Athens NM 4~0, Sappbo P .. courttl)' Museum, Athem. New York S1.11.13, Ertuia P., ARI'' 1248.9, eountt:)' o(the ~'letr"'* polltan Mutc:um of Art. Sc:e abo o( che ~ational Ath ens, Agora P 'lOt 77; C. W. Blqcn, Hu,m. 2.1 ( 1932) 2&, fie. a; Kurtz..Boa~n, fig. 5· Aner 0 . M. Baron von Stackclberg) Di• c,.,.., d« Hdu.v• (18)7) pl. 8. M· Norbert SehhnmeJ Collec-tion, New York, AW.Hks P.i 0. ~~t useareUa Chapt ""'""Y F1o. 19 Jena 338, near th<: Trmbol P., AR I'' 76o·4 I. London 0 35· Tymbo!l 1, ., cou.rttl)' o(theT ruscea o(au- Bril bh ~tuscum. flo. 21 Fto. 2 2 c... (cd.), " no. "" .}lorbt.rl """"" ScMmrJU.l·• ••• Coll~tl4nr.p ( 1974-} fro~ 6 63. Nat York •+-•,.G·s A. eourttsy of the '-fti.J'Ol)Oiitan Muteum o( Art. From 0 1)•mpos in Auica? G. M. A. R ichter, 1/turdbwk of llw CrNk Col· l«tiM hm) s•, pl. 'l6 r. Fto. 7 New York 54-·11·5• counesy of ~e Met.ropoliiM Mu•eum of Art. Flo. SA New Yorlt. 27.'l'l8, courtesy of the MetropOlitan MUKu.m ot Art. Fro. 8B N~ Yor-1c o8.2$9.21, ~;alyx kratcr, Nc.kyia P. ; P. jacobsthal, " The Ndcyia Krate-r in New> York, " M1t· PriiJOiit.,. AI~~SNZ~t SltiiiV.J $ (1934~• 127 fig. 8, tracing ... Wolsky. NM 1170, f . of8o1ogm\ ~ ~a. Athens Fro. 9 ARY, .512.13, courtesy o( the N'arioo.al MtDeUm. At.heta. NM 4310, aOer G. Ahlberg, Athent F1o. ro Flo. 25 F10. 27 l''ul. ~8 /'rt:U~i.' 1111(1 F.J.j!Mta ( 1073) rig. ag. fJQ . 1 1 Athens, Kttamc:ikoa lnv. 8o; K. Kubltt, I I « - Vl.2 ( 1970) pl. 15, KAt. 21, courtoy of the Oerm3.l'l Archat'ological l nl(itute, Ath Cill· Athcru Natiooal Museum: courtay of the Creek ?<.linl.rry oC £duca· tion. Frc. ' 3 ~ton 27.146, c:ourtes)' of the MUKUil\ ot Fint Aru, Boston. Mount Auburn Canctery, Cam· bridge, M;u~ . Dolton 34--79, Lykaon P., CB ii pl. 6). ARYl to.t5-2 ; counesy of tM MuKUm or Fine Aru. Botton. 1.\o!ton 95·47• manner of the P. of London E 342• A.R~ 67o.q, cour· tc:sy of the Museum ol Fine Arts, Bol-ton. l}o$ton ao.uo, Sabouroff P. , ARYa a..s. a70. oourtoy or the Museum of Fine Aru. Bonoo. Bolton 13. 169, near the 1\osz.kicw.iez: P., courtcty or the Mu.eum. of Pme Aru. bton. London B t..tS. Xenotle~~ P.• councsy o{1h eT n U-tea o(thcllrh ish Mu•cum . Nr:w York 197'2, l 1. 10, tuphronios, courcesyoflheMctrapOiita.nMUICUtn o( 1\rt. a. chapU:T 5 fie, ~. New York, 11•e Picf1X>nt Morsan Library M. 9+5• The 8ook or Hours o( ~therine o( C'Jcvo. C. 1435 A.D., Cucnnol Collection, C·f. 168 v. Lakon.ian cup. a rt market, tx· Enkinc and Symes Colleetiorut. CHAPTER II ArlC1' J. Mella3rl, S.diesl ClvUh• ...... tf tJw "''"' Eut ( 1g6;) g8, fie. r.o. 2 8•, ~ by F. Wolol 255 Copynghted ll'atenal REFERENCES FOR I LLUSTRATIONS l:tc. 3 F10. 4 Fu;;, 5 KuJJJt, Ptop)'lilt.r: Kunstgtsthithtr 13 ( 1914) pl. 113; ] . Carsum..g, J . 6. E. Ga~t:;wg, Tht Sttn)' of]vi~htt ( 1940) ,Sif. l:ranchthi Mesolithic skeleton, courtesy T . W. Jacobsen, Indiana Uni· vtnity; /JesfMria 28 ( 1!)69) 374-, pl. 100 b. Istanbul: Arc-haeological Mweum, courtes)' N. Firntli, Al\er J. Mdlaart, &rliul Ciuili.uztitms of tht ;V,ar EAst {1965) t o t , fig. 86. F1<;~. 6 F1c. 7 f'ro . 8 l~·,o. 9 l~u,; , 10 Stele of Eannattlm from Lagash (T dloh) , ~·fusee du Louvre; after A. Mocmgat, TM Art of Andmt J\fuopotamitJ (1g69) l>l. 1!.10. !\·fount Auhun1 Ccn)ttcrr, C'..am· bridge, Mass. Cambridge City ('..('metcry, Cam· bridge, Mass. Cerman J\l'c haeologicaJ l1tttit ute: Athens, Myk. 126. Budapest, Museum of Fine Aru; after C. M. :\, Richter, -n,. Ftmtl'lurt of lhe CmJis, El'rusums and Romans l~'tc . 1 1 FIG, 12 FIG, 13 ( 1!)66) fig. ••. Mount Auburn Cemetery: Cam· bridge, 1\·la.u. Cairo Jnv. 133: courtesy of the C~1.iro Museum; d . H, K isc::hkcwitz 1 W. Fonnan: f!g}'fJlio.n Drawints(t972) pl. 56. Ather\$ NM 1501, o\Jlcr V. K.alli· )'>Qihl$., MUUQ Nu~rntl1, AUM ( '9i 1) no. 99· F1o. 14 M unich 1493, Bocci P., ABV 316, courtesy of t he Ar•tikensa.mmhmgen, Munich. F~e. 15 Boston 6g.1611, courtesy of t he Museum of f··ine Arts: .Boston. Ftc. 16 Photo Tombazis~ counesy of th e late J. Papademctriou. Ivlount Auburn Cemetery, Cam· bridge, Ma.~. f iG. 18 1\•lyetml.e 6o.327, courtesy Lord \<\>'illiam T:tylour; ¢f. T1u MJ€nuu T<Jblt.l.$1 11, TrQnsa&tWns q{l~ AnrrtkD11 PJrilwoplrir<Jl Srxitg 52- 7 {1962) fig. Ftc. 17 91. Fu:; . 19 Athc;ns, K er:uneikos 41; K. KObler, Krrau~ikM VL2 ( 1970) 500: to6; <:ourtesy of the Cerman Ar<:hacotogieal Jrutitute, Athem. Fw. 20 Thebes Museum, Tanagra Tomb 3 1 oour1e:sy l'. Spyropoulos. Fro. 21 Athens NM, ;~.fter S. M:.ri.m:~ot0$1 Crete lmll M)rmat (1!)6o) pl. 136. Fu:;. 22 Booton, Museum of Fine Aru, anon· ymous &oan. f 10. 23 Collection of Dr. Ludwig, Aachen; courtesy of the AntikenabteiJung, Staatlichc Kunmam.m.lungen, Kassel FJC:;. 24 Chania Museum, Crete, counesy '1. Tzedalds. FtG. 25 Hierapetra Museum, Crete, photo V. Karagcorghis. F10. 26 T hebes Museum, Tanagra Tomb 5 1, &iotia, courtesy ·r. Spyropoul011. Fto. 27 MowH Aubun1 Cemetery, Cambridge, M:!.$$. F10. 28 After R. Lullics, AA 1944- 45 {1949) pl. rg.1 (C3p,i(ln erro.r ) ; E. Busc:hor, Crab ~inu atti.f(/:rn Mtldtlrrtu ( 1939) 8 fig. 3· Munich 2777, T hanatos J"., tfRV2 1228.1t 1 after W. Rie.l..l.cr: Wd'issgnottbie aJiisclle Ltk;•tht.n ( 1914) pl. 26, counesy of the Antikensammlungcn, Munich. fiG. 30 K. C. Seclc, Tlu Tomh of ~!Jatliftr at Th~bu (rgsg) pl. 11, court<:S)' o(the Oric.:mal Institute, Uuiver.~ity of l~·,o. 29 ftc. 31 Chicago. Brw.sels B 5043, oounesy of the Mustc:s Royeau:c du C.inquanu:n· aire; cf. H. Ki:dtkewitz, W. Fonna.n, Er;J'/Jiian Drau:i"'J ( 1972) pl. 21. FIG. 32 Tomb ofNofremri,photo court~y E. Brovotrski, Boston i c:f, G . Thausing, H . Goedicke, TM TQmb of .Ntifretari, {1971) pl. •3•· fiG. 33 Athens, Ker:.m(1ik.os lnv. 45 ( K. Kabler, Kr-romeiMs Vl.2 [ 1970] Kat. 129 , pl. 102) , c::ourtesy of the German Archaeological fnnit\lte, Athew. l-~1 0. 34 Bos-ton '9i'0•346; M. Comstock. C. Vermeule, Sculpture in Sttm,, TM Crttk) RomttJt and Etrusr<Jn Colluti4ns cf tlu Must.um cf FU~tt Artt, 8()Jtt»t (1976) no. 406; ca. 22.) A.D. fiG . 3 ~ Bocston or.8o37. L)'Si ppid¢~ P., ABI' 254.2, courtesy of the Museum of f·ine Arts, Booton. 1~·1o. 36 Copenhagen, DanUh National Museum 13521, courtesy of the Muse· um, photo Lennart Larsen; d. A . Copyrighted material 257 REFERENCES FOR I LLUSTRATIONS Greifcnhagcn, Cn'uhistht Erol«n ( 1957) fig . 36; see also chapter 5 fig. 12. CHAPTER Ill Flo. 1 Acropolis 6o6, Athens National Mw.eumj after B. Craet'~ £. Lang lotz, Die tmtikm Va#lt t-qn thr Akropolis Dol Athtn ( 1925-33) pl. 32. Berlin 3-34.;; Antik1 Dtnkm61v II goB) pl. Hooton 9!).14. courtesy of the 4 Fm. 2 F1c. 3 c, .a. ftG. 16 &ston 98.923, Botkin Class, ABV 169 1 courtesy of the M llSeum of Fine Arts, Boston. Fto. 17 Boston g8.gt6, AhV 91), courtoy of the Museum of l~ine Aru, Boston. Fto. 18 New York 12.234. 11 rdated to the C P., AD V 6 t, D. von &thmer, A11'140:0M i11 Cmk Art {1957) pl. 17.2, coun<':S)' of the Metropolitan Z..·lu~eum of Art. Fzo. 19 B«ston 6g.105'l 1 Oai~hou P., cout· teS)' of the Museum of Fine Arts, ~ton. fto.s. 20, Athens NM 33, Snaft Grave lll, Circle A, M)'Cenae, after G. Karo, D ie Srllo.dtrgr4hn t'()Jt l'\1)kt11ai ( 193o- Ftc. !; FtQ. 6 F10. 7 f1o . 0 f' tc. 9 Fie;, to fto . u F1o. 12 Ftc. 13 Ftc. 14 Fto. 15 33) no. 294-, pl. 24. Copenhagen, Oa.nisb National Museum 727, courtesy of the Museum. ·nu·~ Macmillan a.ryballos, London, from Thebe:s, courte$y of the 'f ruste<'$ of the British Mu:seum. Boston •g;o.(4, counc:sy of the Mus.eum of Fi.ne Am, Boston. Boston 97·28<J; oourtrsy of the ?\'luseum of Fine Arts, Bollton; M. Comstock and C. Vermeule,Sculpturl i11 Stqne ( 1976} no. 15. f1orence, ~·luseo Arobeologico 4209, Klciti:u a.nd Ergolimos, the Fran4j0is VMe, AHV 76. 1, after Furtw'.ittglcr-ReichholdJGriuhiuht Vaun· rnok>-ti I ( 1904), pl. '3· Ber-lin 33.52, after Antikt De.nlt:m4/v II ( 1go8) pl. o;. Boston 6J. 1073, Neandros P., Po_ra· lipomma 6g, courtesy of the Museum of Fine ArtsJ ~ton. Athens, AgornJ AP 1044, Exekias, courtesy of the American School of Classical S tudies, Athens, Agora Excavatjons. Museum of f"ine Art,, Richmond, Virginia 62. 1.2, S\.\•ing P., Poralipmrwut t 33, courtesy of the Museum. WOrzburg 256, Swing P. (?), courtC!i)' E. S imon, Martin von Wagner Museum; cf. E. Langlotz, Cri«hisclu Vastn in Wii:rzburg ( 19:32} pl. 83. 8c»Hm'l5··J:J,C:Ourtesyofthe Mv.K-um or Fine Atu , Boston. Athens N M 2493; Erctria, Coli. P. 'fhem el.is; cf. N. Kontoleon, "Die 11-iihgriechische Rdjcfkunst," EphA"A ( 1()69) pll. 46- Museum of f' inc A.t•ts, Booton. F10. 4 21 ftc. 22 f tc. 23 47· London, British Musco:um 124801, aJ1er R. 0. Samctt, W. f"orman, Assyrian Palau /Uiiifs, pl. 124. Maim In\'. JlO. 1.)4, aftet R. H:unpe. Ein frii/u;lliJ(/ur Gralifuml ( tg6o) , Kra1c:r B. Fto. 24 London B 6s8, Jkldam P., C. N. E. Has.pds, Auk Blaek-Figum! LtkJ'IMi ( 1936) no. 67; afier 0. M. Baron von Stac.kd berg, Dil Crae.btr dtr 1-/t.lte-~~n ( 1837) pl. 11. Fto. 25 Counc:sy of Tht .Ntw Yorktr Maga· z ine, Inc. Ft Louvre CA 452!J. after P. Dcmargne, !UvA"h ( 1972) 45 6g. 9· Ftc. 'l Boston 13.2o6, near the Blaek Fury Copyrighted material REFER£NC£S FOR ILLUSTRAT IONS F10. 3 Ftc. 4 Fto. th e Museum of Fine Arts, Boston. Boston 99·539• Xcnoti.mos P., ARrn 1 '42; covrt~y of the Museum of f' tc. 7 Fine Arts, 8o$ron. Fro. ,s L()l::lt; :'tfttr J.D. Beazley, ' ''fhe Rosi Krater," ]HS67 {1947), I fig. I. Ftc. 6A London 67/s-3/ tt3:h counesy of che Trustees ofThe BriliW Mu$\.."'WXI; after F-R Ill ( 1932) pl. 126. F10. 6B New York 41 . 162.29, Sa.ppho P., ABV ;.OJ, courtC'Sy of 111e Me-tropolitan M useum of Art, fto. 7 Mount Auburn Cemetery, Cambridge, Ma'lS. Fto. 8 6 P.: courtesy of the Musrum of Fine Arts, Boston. Bo!ton gg.5 t8, P. of the Boston Polyphem06, ABV ·~· courtesy of Bos.ton 03.783, Daybreak P., ABV 378; counesy of the Museum of Fine Arts, Boston. Fto. 9 New York, Cesno1a Collection no. 1364-, limNtone sarcophagt:l$ from Col.goi, Cyprus, a(kr Alllike Dtn/.:miikr III. pl. 6; d. I•. P. di C::mol:t, Atlas of tlu CtJM/a Collution of C)flri~Ju AJttiqt.titiu 1 ( 1885) nos. 476+791 J. L. Mrres, Haw.dbook oft~ Cumlla Co//l(ti()rtt if' A_ntil[&n"!J"u jr()J:I'I CJ'P'us ( 1914) no. 136-j,. Fto. 10 Paris: BibliothCque National, Cabinet des Mtdailles 223 1 Swing P., 49· BO$tOn o r.8o72, Ma.kron, ARV2 461; court«)' of the Museum of Fine Arts, B~ton. f' to. t:l Boston Res. o8.$4 c; M. Conutock and C . Vermeule, Srulptuu in St(),u ( 1976) no. 11 5; courtesy of t he Museum of Fine Arts, Boston. FtG. 9 ~ton tO.:lt91 Ohos, ARV2 54.6, C.B iii, 9; M. Robettson, '"Olto$' An>pho,a," O}h 47 ( 1964-~) 107f.; courtesy of the l\.'luseum of Fine Arts~ Boston. F10. 10 New York .f.O.J 1.22, by an artist recalling t he P. of London D 12, ARV2 965; courtesy of the: f,.•letropolit.an Mu.seliJJl of ArL FIG. 11 Ol)·mpii\ Museum; after E. Kunze. O(.,mpi.uJu Frnuhtowm II, drdu;iuht Se.hildM.nii'T ( 19.:;0 ) pl. 6o no. 32 b~ c. 6oo I,S .¢;, FrG. 12 J..ondon 8 1 ~!h c;ourtCS)' of the Trustees of 1be British Museum. Fto. 12 Courtesy of Tht Ntw Yrnku Magaz ine, Inc. Fto. 14 11 CHAPTER V F!c.;. t FIG. 2 Fro. 3 f'10. 4 Fto. 5 Bo5ton 86.14!h from Vulcl j M. CoO'I$tOck and C. Vermeule, Sadp-. tun iot $lJ)rll ( 1976) no. 383; covrtC$y of the Mu:K"um of Fine Arts, Boiton. Nc:w York ' 9?~. n.ro, Euphronios; courtesy of the Metropolitan Mu· seum of Art {«:f. cb:\JHer 1 tig. 27) . Louvre G 163 1 Ett«:harides P., ARV2 227:12i courtesy Musee du Louvre. Athens 12783~ Quadrate P., ARV2 1237; courtesy of the Nati(.mal Museum, Athe•lll· Athen.' Ns.tionaJ Museum, Acro-polis 2s26; G -L pl. 104. CoJ)enh:.g('n, Danish Nation:d Museum 13.;2 1; photo Lennart Larsen, courtesy the Mweum. Boston 97·3681 Tyszkiewic2: P., ..fRV:, ~go . 1, drnwing F. Ander'$0n; courtesy of the MlLSeum of Fine Aru, Boston. London B 6391 Sappho P., Haspels, ABL 227, App. X I no. 28, pl. 36. 1; courtesy of the Trwtees of tlte Briti:sh Museum. Boslon o8.20,Si M. Comstock and C. Vcnne1.de, Sudpt:m in Si(W (1976) no. 30; courtell)' of the Museum of Fine Aru, Boston. Bos-ton 9,).28, 'fdephos P., ARY2 4B2, 816; court<~ll)' of the Mu.s.eum of fin e Arts, &.ston. Leningrad 682, P. of London D 15, ARV2 391; A. Peredolsbya, Kras'JN)figW"tl)"e allis.tl!ukie ~'d.{Y ( 1g67) pl. 48. BMtan 9~. 36, Brygos P., ARV~ 381.182, C B i, no. t 7, pl. 6, dra\\·ing f . Anderson; courtesy of the Mu~·m of Fine Arts, Boston. Courtesy of Tlu New rcrker f\.laga· zine, lne. Boston 64.1459, courtesy of t he Mw.eum of Fine Arts, Bo5tOu. or Ftc. 13 ABV3o8.;7. Fto. Private: collection, Boston ; cf. D. BuitTOil (ed.), Attit Vau Painting in J\ ',w England Collt.tJi()JlS (1972) no. FIG. 15 f'10. t6 Fro. 17 Frc. 18 f)c. 19 ftc. 20 Copyrighted material 259 R:£F£R£NCES FOR ILLUSTRATIONS f'r~. !ll London B 287, F. N. Prrce, Cata/Q~t in lhe DtpartmmJ bj Cmk and R~m<m AntiquitUs of the British Muuum ( 1928) 122f.; courtesy of the TrusteC$ of the Briti~h MUS<'um. Doston J971·343• Syleu$ P., courtesy o(the Mw.eum of Fine Aru, Bo!ton. Gela, cup fragment, afler 1... Maltm, ]dJ 29 (1914} fig. 33; d. Mommtn'lti Ant~hi 19 (I go8-og) 99 fig. 8. London 1933.1t>--15.t, eha1eedony $Caraboid, Semon Masu·.r, after J. Boardnun, ('7t'ttk ('d1YU ami Fing« Rings (•970) pl. 362. Boston 23.6o1 (ex Lewes House}, bronze ring, fourth «ntury; J. D. Beazley, Thl I.Au,v.1 Houu Collutitm of Anciml Gum (1920) no. 59, as a dogj oourtC$y or the Museum of Fine Arts, Bostor.t; photo R . Wilkins. Lausanne 3250, Ger.\$ P., C. B&ard, AniK 9 (rg66) 93f., pl. 22 fig. 3· Vienna 318 Masner, a fter G. Weieker, Dtr SulttWopl (1902) 6g. ~Sculpture Ftc. 22 Fxc. 23 FIG. 24 Ftc. 27 48. Pari$, Biblioth~ue National, Cabi.· net des M&laillc:s 26o, U~ Group; courtesy of the Biblioth~ue National. Boston 03.&1 1 eourteJy of t he Mu· KUJD of Fi.ne Am, Bolton. CHAPTER VI Fro. 1 fu;) . ::t Fro. g Ftc. 4 Fro. 5 Ftc. 6 fJC. 7 Bos-ton Ot.8o24, Ambi'O$iOt P., A_R V2 173, courtesy of the Museum of Fi.n e Ar~ Boston. Bost(H\ 99·~ '~• courtesy of the Mu5el•m of Fine Aru, llo$ton. Athens. National Musevm, from Sounion; after J. Boardma.n, C1'u-k Nl (19!4), fig. 39· London 1926..6-28.9; cf. V. Kva· georghis, J. des Gagnien, LA cb-ami· qw Cll)fJritJU de styl~filw'l ( 1974) 1221 XI.r, drawing £. ~·lark.ou. Old photograph. After S. BrunnsAker, Ojuflh 4 ( 1g&J:) 6g. 7; photo montage G. ErikMQn. Boston 6.6;, anon)''lUOUS loan; drawingS. Chapman. Fu:o. a Boston 21.1214; J . 0. Beadey, Th4 Lm~s H uus1 CtJI/tttion if' Anrienl Gmu (1920} no. 103; courtay or tJu: Mu5t:'l.lro of Fine Am, Bostor.t. f1o. 9 Aquila, Mus.coCivico; aftt'rCa$Siano d<~.l Po~ drawing no. '20t, C. C. Vermeule, TAPS (1g6o} 6g. 7~h f"1c. toA New York +::t.t 1.12, Blind Dolphin ~b..11er, <;Ourtct)' of the Mt'tropolitan Museum ofArt. Fro. 1oB New Yor-k 4.2.1 r. 12, au.bo\'C. FtG. 11 New York 41.16o.437, eourtet)' of tJ\e Metropolitan Museum of Art. Ftc. 12 Paris, Bibliothequc National, Cabi· net des M~daillcs Cat. q8. F1v. 13 Berlin, Staatliche Mween, from Penteslcouphi, Corinth; after A~ttiU Denkmiikr I (1887}, pl. 7 no. 26. FIG. 14 Munich 2100, P. of Munich 2100, ABV 316, courte.y of the Antikcnsammlungen, MuniGh. fro. 15 Boston 99 ·5~2, C::Ourte.y or the Museum of Fine Arts, Boston. f'rc. t 6 Boston 63.4-20, courtay of the Museum of fine Arts, Bo6ton. FTG. 17 Taranto Jnv. 52155.: after CVA Ill pl. 24· Ftc. t8 Boston 21.1203; j . D. Beazley, TJu Lluu Jlo!J.U Coll«-tion qf AncUnl lflm1 ( 1920) no. 46; tourt~y of the Museum of F ine Arts, &stoo. f'ro. 19 O lympia B 4990, oourtl:$y of che Gen:nan Archaeological Institute, Athens. Flo. 20 Private colloction, copy after an original in the B)'tantine Museum, Atheru;. F1o. 21 Basel, private collec.tion, Circle of Polygnotus; after M. Schmidt, AmK ,, (191•> Frc. 22 Boston 28.49, eourtct)-• or the Mu$('\lm of f'ine Art-&, Boston. fto. 23 &S'ton 49·65, anonymous loan. FIG. 24 The H ague; courte$y J. Boardman, Oxford, cf. Cutk Cmu tmd Fingn Rillgs (1970) pl. 317· Ftc:>. 25 Boston or.Stoo, drawing S. Chapman.; oourtesy of the MUk-Um of Fine Art3, Boston. F1o. 2.6 London E 440, The Siren P., ARV2 28g; courtesy of the Trustees of the British Museum. Fro. 27 Once Athens, Colltttion FauvcJ; Manner the Emporion P., ABV ••Sr. or Copyrighted material REFERENCES FOR I LLUSTRATIONS .)86i after 0. M. &ron von Stackel· of ClaS!ical Studies, Athens; <.f. berg, DU CraLbn thr H1llnun (1837) Hapui4 42 ( 1973) 2, 32. Tomlntone U,. Lowell, Mass.; d'. j)l. •6+ F1c. 30 F10, 2.8 New York 31.11.13, Eret-rla P., Ftc . 29 ARV2 r2+8; courtCJ)' ofThe Metro· politan Museum of Art. Corinth 72-4, courtesy of C. K. 'Williams and the American School Faa. 31 E. V. Gillon, V'utorUm Cemetny Art {1972) 168 pl. 255· NC\'' York o6. 1021.26J courtt::S)' of the Metropolitan Museum or Art. Copyrighted material BIBLIOGRAPHIES lmporU\nt books are preceded by asterisks. W. Hahb.nd, u ~eue Ocnkmllcr C£1\"ERAI. Heroen,. und TottnkulltJ.'' Fut.uhrifl F. <••·br( 1 g~) 117f. A. H;d).n, EiiUUllwtgut :trm Tod unJ i/t_rf JOdDlf &JV.,Ilvit ( 1g68). !'\. A1~rg, •• Antike TodOJt,uffauung, •• Ma~t~~:ltl 23 ( 1929) · M. At~dronikol, Tolutku/1, AtflullfJloti4 llr»Mri ---,, Dt.ltio" ~·ru"..urC 'Eru~~ 11, , ( sg6•-&:z) •5~r. K. Heinemann, Afllflp.tio,.. E. Bickel, Htm:niM!ut Sulmglmlbt (1925). J. ~hmc, Dit SitU ll1td JIJ/ !tit int htmtnilt.lwn R. Hem, Datlo ..d liv Ritfot H..d ( 1!)6o) . Epo. ( 1927). ""'Ct- C. Honn, Sro.~Uo M< Hi....,qo/orl im Klos.ristllm Alkrtvm ( 1910). E. Brook, ''Totcntci1 und Stt:Jgtrit im grk:chi· st'Ju~n lledn," MU.tlrtnrr Bhlrigt 4· P~tp,ynu· /lff"J(,.I/IIIIg IX ( 1926). W. Burkert, H~~~JW .N«tJJU ( 1972). A. Ot,ucbim.ki, TOll wttl ·r. tl1&bJJ.-J Ni Jnr o/ld Critodoo (•9"7). L. Deubntr, .-tuiscN FtJt# (1 93~} 93r., !l~!)r. A. E. Jensen, "Ubcr die: Totcn als Kulturgeschichtllchc Enchcinun.g, '' Pt~WtumtJ 4 (1g;o) •3· R. KaDel, u~- ~ ,,,.;~ K~li~.tr•tur C. A. 1)ietcrich, .A'tk)iA 2 (1919). B. Dietrich. I>«Jlh, FtJlt .Mllu Goth (rg6~). S. f~ltem, O,Jnribu wwl V...pf<> 4er ..4 R6mn (1914). E. E. [\ c.- lmmMtnli(1 ( 19 21 ) . W. Fo.uth, "BestaUung," Der Klrine Pn.uty l, Jrnsritslwlf~lfflll11 d~r J. LeMing, De mortJ'1 npwl r:rtrrufigura ( Wi1 JU Altw dto T•d gebi/J.r ) (1)69) . H. Lorimer, •• PuMs ct t,llm.bn," ]liS ~ K. Mculi, "Griecbi5Chc Opfcriw.iuehe," Plt.JIIobalia, f't.ststllrift jll'r Pettr t.vn de.r MahiJ ( 8nf'. L Moulinler, Lt P., 11 l'lmptrt Jat I• pnuh C..u (1~), ]lit. *" J. C. Fruu, 11tt F~u f/ Ute INIIII ill PrimiJke Rlliti<M (•933)· W . .f'urtwUnglcr, Di• /Me du Todu in dtn M. P. Nlboon, CCR'. --~ .. Jmmortalily of the Soul in C 1·ec-k Ctiullm J. Canu, Ol>n .U. U"""b/itlltntstlarim 6ri 4no .U... Critodoo woJ- ( •9"3) · C. Cerould, T/r, Gtt~tt/111 DttJd ( 1go8). M. 0\tiomar, Pritui/JII d'tmt EtthiiJ'qw d• la M.-r1 ( 196)). H. Cunclolf, D•'' .- (19SS) 161f. L. R . f&rMU, Grttk lit,.. C.fu trttl Ur4J of J~ KRufmnnn: ( •958). GriuiNfl unrl Riimtt ( •8g?)· uo. KurtJ,j. Boardman, Cud BttritalC.au~ ( 1971) (t DHJA U. Etuty Cud Utn•tw~ ( 1917). Mytltm wul Kwutdml.m4lml (186o). n...t.. io P...V w Kwlt l Cri#lo<Jt ( 1913). W. Helbig, "Zu den homerisclten Bestattunpbrlluchtt/' SBMtl~ (•!JOO) , 1!)9f. Religion," OpS•I 3 (1goo) ¥>· W. Quo, DU M4Mt. .Jtr nM dm l.lrjtwNIA lin r.~' (19~) • C. Piannmilll~, TtN/1 ]tnllits urtJ Ututnbl;ch.hil i_lt t!tr Rrligicrt1 LittrDtur rutd J>hihsojilli• dd Cril'fh,1 uwl R4mv ( •9,)3)• F. Pfu.u:-r, Dtr /VliqWMtdt im Alk.rhnn ( agog, r.u..t.u wwiJmW.st,_ ( 1g67) . 261 1912). BlllUOGRAPHY: G E NERAL J. Pit::p(r, Tod u.nd Unsurblichktit (1968). L. Radermacher1 Do.~ Jmui# im M.Jthw Jn H~lltnm (1903). A. de Riddc.r , L' idl~ dt Ia mwt en Cr1t.t ( 1897). C. Robert, TlwnaWJ ( 1879). •••E. Rohde, Ps>Yh4e, trans. \\1• B. Hillis ( 1925/1950). J. Rud.hardt. NotiOIU fondamrnlai.tJ de Ia pmde rtligieuu tt aetls wutitutift du wlte dans Ia Crlce lltltiq~a ( 1956) 238, 246. A. von Salis: •• Antiker Be.staU.uupbrau¢h," MusHelv 14 ( 1957) S<;f. £. Sa.mter, Ceburl, Nod/zeit , Ted { 1911). K. Scbefo]d, •• Die Ver:uuwottung vor den Toten als Deutung d es J,..elxn11/' Wm~J· IWlgm, Srlillim ~ur anti.ken unJ ltt1AUut Kun~t (1975) 2 5~· U. Schl(:nther, Brarnl~statWng und :Heltnglo.u!Jt ( lg6o). A. Schnaufer, FrGAgriffhise.hh' Tct~ll.gla.11be, Spllda.wtata 20 ( 1970); rev. C. Sou.rvinoulnwO<>d,JHS 92 ( 1972) 220. 0. Schr~der, Totmltq.chuit ( 1904). I•'. Schwenn, Dit Mr.nschtmpfer !ni dr.n Griuhm ruu1 ROnum (1915) . G. Soury, "La vie de 'a.u·deJ.:'l'_," R~uEIAlt1: +6 ( 1941) ljl. P. Stengel, /)U ( 1920). - - -,, griuMsth~ Opfirbrii~trk Kultu.solUTliime:r thr Gri.td:m {1910) . P. Ucko, "Ethnography and Archaeological Interpretation ot' Funeral Remains,'-' Wo,Jd Af'chut~JWg>· I ( I ¢9) 262(. .J. Vuillemin, Emn'tur Ia tignification de la t1Wrl ( 19.j9) . 0 . Wa.ser, ''Than;&«»/' Rotd~n 481r. j . Wiesner, G,ob 1wi ]tnJe.its (1938). U. von Wilamowitz· Modlendorf, Du Glmlb~ du H~n {1926t 1932). 'f. Zielinski, " La Cucrre A l'Outretombe," Miltmgu Bid4.t ll ( 193+) 1021. CEMETERIES, BURIAL RITES, 1\ND LAMENTATIONS A fuller bibliography covering $ites and details li.kc tomb-forms, decoration, markers, legislation} vessels, j ewelry, toys and gifts, in Kurtz-Board man ; th e subject is coveted by many vol umes in the General list. Some d e tails a re given in the notes h er e. £•or Bronze Age burials, sec bibliography p. 265. C. Ahlberg, PY()J/tuis aJtd Ekp/t()ra (1973) . l\'1. Alexiou, The Ritual Lmnent in G,uJ. Trodi· liM {1974), C. &lger, "Das Grnb de$ He11io<.l in Orchomenoo._.'' AA ( 18<) 1) 186. J, Boardman, "Paint~d Funerary Plaques 01nd Some Remarks on Prothesi:s:," BSA 50 ( 1955) 5 1f. - - - , "Attic Geometric Vase Scenes, Old and New," ]/JS 86 (1g66) 1f. A. BrO.ckner, Dtr FriMIIIJf am En'doMs {1909). W. Burkert, "rOHE. Zum griechi.schcn Schrunanismu.s,'-' RMt.f 105 {lg6:l) 36f. E. Buschor, G,ah ~inuoU i.ld~m Marklwts (1939). J. Cook, "A Goornetric C ravttide Scene," BCH 70 (1946) 97f. V. Desboro ugb~ P,()UJgmnllrir Pottery (19!)2). c,,o, - - , 7k Do'k Ag" ( 1972) 266f. F. &btein, " Die J\ttischen CrabmiiJerg('Set· ze," ]dl 73 ( 1959) 18f. J. Gerou1anos, "Gnlbsitten dc:3 awgehenden geomctriachen Stils i.m lkreich des C utes Trachones bd Athen/' At\·1 88 (1973) If. R. G inouvCs, "Lc bai.n et lcs rites funera.irQ," &u.n Copyrighted material BisuooRAPHY: C .EMETERIES, B uRIAL RITES, LAMENTATIONS F.jl\Coby, "FENEEIA: A Forgotten Festival of the D<•d," CQ. ~ (t!M4) 6; f. - -- , "Patri05 Noro<>s: Sra.te Burial11 in Ath ens aod th e Pvblic Cemetery and the K«ameik<JO," ]HS !11 (•9+1) 37f. F. J evoi\S, .. Gn:ek Buri.al Laws,.. CR 9 ( r8g.)) D. Ohl)'·, Criethische Coldblulr.e tks 8. ]ahrlum· Jnts • . Cltr. (•953) 68f. f. Poulien, DU Dip).fongrabu und JU ti4Wt r::. Dipy~ ( 1905}- Reiner, DU riluelk TqW!klage dv Griuhtn, zur AIUrt.wrl.sl.tMunJchtlft ~ TUJi~~gu & 'trfigt 24f. (•936). G. Karo, A_n All£.; Ce.m.drry ( '9+3) · H.. Kenner, "Das Lt1terion im K ult," O]h '!9 ( <935) L Sc--heibler, TM Ardt11ic Ctl'flltny, Kerameikos Book No. 3.z. ttal'l.\. S. Slenak:l ('9i3)· E. Smithson~ uThe DOrpfdd Areopagus KtramtibJ: V . r K . KUbler, Die .Ntkropole dt..s .u1. biJ fL. ] ahrhwulrm ( 19.)4) . VI.L, K. KUbler, Die .NekropoU (4J spiitm 8. bis frilltm ti. Jahih.u.nr!trt.s ( rg.:;!)}; VI.;r (1970). (See also BrUckner, Karo, Schdbler.) W. Leaf, •• flomcric Bllrh,J Rita," Commudmy ~m th.t Iliad, Appendix L ( rgo-.1). D. LtiC::t.$, 263 ••&w,('V8(w "'Kptm, 'A,gam(.-m· 1:393-6, '' Ptocudiltgs 'If lht Cambridge Philologica.l S«iety !..i ( r96g) 6a. non' P. Maas, "Threnos/' RE VI, 596. L. Mahen, "Lei.chenspiel und Totenkult," RimMill ~ {19231+) 300f. H. Marvoitz, " Das Bahrtuch;• A.n.tr·ke und Abnldland l.Q ( - - - , "Du Ursprung der olymptschcn Spiele," Anlike !1 ( 1941) 189f. ~·1. P. Nilsson, 11 Oer Ursprung der T ragOd.ie [Tou:nldagc)," OpStl i ( <95 •1 6 - - - , •• Oat Ei im T olenkuh," Op&/ 1 <•9l •l:IL M. Ninc.k, D•'e &dr.rttu~ det Wc:u.sers im Krdt wrt! LtiNn tiff Alkn, Philologus Sup. !J: ( 192 1/ Graves and Simple Cremation in Goornetric Ath=," AJA H (<970) •o3f. - --,, "The Tomb of a Rich Ath enian Lady, (;a. 8.,so o.c.," Hesperia :12 (1g68) 77f. Sokolo~k.i, F. Lts lr;is sanies dts dth gr«l[tu.s (•!J69)· 0. M. Baron von SLs.ckcll:w!J'@:, Dk GrtU.ltn- in Ht/Jn:nt (r6a;). H. T hompson,"Ev..l :uta.i TIVC:S' rijs ACl"P';ClS - 'Hpwwv, ; •• TWV Of:'__ ' r;flH(T'I"']J-401>'1K'1 'E1'rfr1Jp1) ' rijs riJJ\ouoifmc~r Xxo.\i}; 'TOO flawf'f&tn"'Jp.tov )!~J.>Wv {HlGj/4) 276f. R . TOlle, "FigUrliche bemalte f'ragmcnte der geometrischen Zeit vom KcrameikO$," AA (•!J63) ~.r. 0. Touchc(cu-Meynier, "Un Nou\•cau Phormi.skos a Figures Noires," Rt.vArtlt (1972) 931. P. Wohen, "Ei.n griecbi&ebcr Bcstattungs· b.aucb," AM :u ( <8g6) 376. R. S. Young, Stpu/turtu intra Ur!Mm, Ht$pn-ia "" ( STELA!, GRAVI\ MONUMENTS, INSCRIPTIONS For a fuller bibliography, K-B 3;6, 36; , 367. C . Unkalulds, f/t.Utnlka lhrtplrlglj'f'lttJ ( 1946). H.. Bieio'U'Itt, Di~ tkssalitzhm CrtJbul itft (1¢5). F. Brommer, · •Neue thetSalische Bildwcrkc vorklassi&ebcr Zeit," AM §5 (1940) TO~ . C. Clairmont, G'rat't.Stont and Epigram ( 1970) i cf. C. Daux, BCH 9§. (1972) 503f. M. C'.ollignon, Ltl Sl41uu Funbairu dons l'Arl Gr« (1911). A. Conte, Dl4 utti.stJN11 Gralmllifs (tSgo-w). P. Couchoud, .. L'interpretation d es stCles funtra.ircs auiqucs," RtvArth tB ( 1923) !..2:!:. M. Couilloud, "Reliefs fi.1nCrn.ire3 des Cyclada," BCH 2!!_ (<974) 397f. J. Oentz.er, .. Aux origines de l' ioonograpbie du bomquct couc.he,-•-• Ra:Af(./t (1971) 215f. Copyrighted material 264 BIBUOGRAPHY: STELA! , GRAVE MoNUMENTS, INSCRIP TIONS H.. Diepolder, Die mlistlwt Crabrdit/1 du V. ~md IV. Jahrhuni/nu B.C. {1931 ). F . Eichler, "E7j~« urtd Mvfjpl:l," AM 39 ( •9•4) P. !.3! T. RQwe, 8()l()titm Qnd Wfll Gm.k Tcmbsk»>es (1957). .J. hel, Us se.rdpt llftS auiqu~s 4/IOI!}'II'N'S, no-300 (•¢9l· P. FriedCinder 1 H.. B. H offie.iL, £J,igrammatJt (•948). K. Friis joh3nscn, Attie Grnt't /Uiitft flj the (19~1). H.. von Frit.t., " Zu den griech.ischen 'fou:nmahlrelid's," A.U 2.1 { t8g6) 347, 473· E. Crinsmair, baJ Motiu r!l."f Mors lmmatura in dm griu;llirchm m~ttiJt.hm Grabin.stirriftrll (•966). N. Hirnmelm:um-Wi.lcbchiitz, Studinl zut11 llm.s-Rtl~f (•9;6). L. Jeffery, "'fhc Inscribed Gravestones of Attica," BSA 51 ( 1g62} 11 5r. A. Kalogeropoulou, "dtlo )t,.,.~I(Q. '£1t,-rl.it4J~(l rl.J.' gj ( 1969) 2.1 1 f. C . Kl\roUXOS, "flcpcoto.W~ O:ya..\p M., a,,_ r.,..., <•941) .;3;r. - - - , "E.in attischOJ CrabnuJ im Nationalmuseum Arben,.. tlfiint!Jt.nn Jalltb~l: cltr !Jilrkndr.n Kwtfl 2!1 { tg6g) 7f. <;ur GtlehitlrJt: dt:r Jpiitarckal'.teh•attisdtm Plastik wtd dtr Grabstalutn ( tg6t}. - - -1 $ . Ka.rolttOu (Paprupyridi), " Bema.he anise:he Steh:n/' AM 2.! ( 1956) 1~4f. - - - , "'£.mnlJ.l.fl•o. C7"1'1)~~ .,.{.,fh)s/' Helklfika !,S (19(10) 310. N. Kontolcon, Asfl«l.l clc 14 Grice eomg~ cteFr41tu ( 1970) . Priclassi~, - -- , "flcpf. -rO Eijl-'« rij:o tPpo.UIK),flo.;," EpMnh (1974) 1f. ~s in Cruk am! Latin Epitaphs, lllirwis SludiiJ in Ltmglll)ge and R . Lattimore, LilntJ/UU ~ { 19¥1) . H.. Meuser, "Ek-phora.., Convoi Fun~brc, Gr~ et :\ Ia Cor«:ge d e dignitairel tn PCripherie du Monde Grec,.. /Uwlrdt ( 1975) Wh reliefs," AM 8.1 { 1966) ~ - - -, "Z-u dc:n Stden \'Cm Daskylcion.," AA <•97•l w r. Fr~zer, C/auiectl Ptr£tJd H.. MObius, "Eigenartjgc auis.che Crab- G. N«.:um3Jl.n, Gestm unc!Gtltiirckn ( 1965) 15 1f. W. Peek, CriuhiJtJu Vm-Insrilrijkn, L GrQb· EpigrtJmme ( 195-5) ; d'. L. Je.fth>•, ]NS ~ (•9;8) !±C - - - , CrUthi.Jcht Crabgtdit:ltu {tg6o). C . .Pfohl, Ctuk Pt>tms 011 Stot&t.S. L J:."'pitaplu, Su4'nlh lo 1-'ifl!t Onturiu fJ.C. {1967). 2. buchrifun der Griu.ltm: Grab-, w~,·h-, wul £hrmi~hriften ( 1972) . H.. PrUduu::r, Dit. lo.k,i.J K. Sehefold, ., Zur Deutung d er kl:iM~ehen Crabrc:liefs/' Alwfltlv 9 ( 1952) tojf. \ rV . Schiering, .. Stele und Bild bci griechischcn Grabmiilcrn/' AA ( 1974) 65 1. B. Sefuna lt;, Urrtvs-.J.tllungm .;:u rlur utt i.ld~n M"""•rl §.z ( •94~) 2 18f. L . Stella, "L' idalc della mortc croica nella Crec.ia del V secolo,'' AttN~ R()lrul 2 ( 1934) 3 13r. J. Thimmc, "Die Stde der Hcgcso ab Zcug:nis des auisehen Gr.abkuhus," AnlK 2 ( r9(5f) J6f. Bildc:r, lrw:hriften und Opfer au attischcn Cri b<:rn," AA ( 1967) t ggf. ---, « IN, •f hOngts..Stringaris, "Das griechisclle T otcnmahl," AM Oo ( 1965) 1f. M. 'fod, " Laudatory Epithc.ts in Greek Epitaphs," BSA i§_ {195 1) t82f. H.. Wade-Gery, "Classical Epigr:un$ and Epitaphs," BSA :1§ { 1951) J82r. C. Weicl:ert, "Zur gricchis.ehen Grabstele," Mu.sHdt.• 8 (19!)1) t!1.2:. P. Wolters. "Gr.tbstei.o mit Lutr<>phoros." AM (•1193) lifi. Copyrighted material BIBUOORAPHY: ATTIC WHIT£ LEKYTUOI ATflC WHr r£ LEKYTHOI AND THEMES OF DEATH IN PAINTINO P. Aria.,, •• ~·lone di un Eroe," Artllt.!ilogia CI4Ssi&a 2.1 ( 1969) !.92: J. D. Bea~ley, Alti& Wlrite LtkytJtQi (Ch3_rlton Lecture, lg'j8}. C. Berard, AIWJM. Euai sur l~imagrrit tits pmsagu chthonirns, Bib/i()tlftc4 Htlr.'ttito &mantl l3: (19H) · ---,t "Une Nouvelle Peli:lu~ du Peintre de Gc:ra.s," AntK 2 (1g66) 9:3.: R. C. Bosomquet, "On a Group or t.at1y Attie Lek)1ho;,'' JHS Lli (18g6) ~ - - -,1 JHS "Some Early Funerary Lekythoi, " ( 1899) !§!!, ~ f. Brommer, "Eine Lck}'thos in Madrid;• Madrifk•r MiueiiU!igtn Ul (1g6g) !..ii: A. BrUckner, "Zur Ldcythos Tafel ~ AA ( 1891) ' 97· E. Busehor, "Attischc Lclcythen dcr Parthe1\0ll:.!Cit," Miinthntu Jaflrbudt dtt bildtndhl Kwut n.s. 2 ( 19~ 5}- - --, "Hau5 und Crab," O]h ag {1952) 10. A. Fairbauk$, Athm.itJn ft'hilt WytJwi I ( 1907). If ( 191+). F. Felten, Tluuwtos unl Klroplummakr (J9? 1). K. Friis Johans.en, '"1\ias und Hektor, ein vorhomerisches Hcldenlied,.. Hi.JJorik·Filaw Jofo!u Mtdtkl~tur udgit>Cl lJ.{ del Ko'flgllige DatUA:t flidciJkabnnLs Sdsk4b 3.9.::1: ( 1961}. R. HamJ>e, Ein Jriihattisd-.n Gra/ifimd (1960). P. Jacobsthal, "Aktaions Tod," ft.fc.rMt" Jahrhudr jilT Kwutu:iuenscllaft 5. ( 19<29) L.. - - - , " Th e Nekyi.a Krater in NC\" York,.. Ml.lrOpOiitar. Mtunml Studiu 5 ( 1934-36) l t 2.: S. Karouzou, Ttn Whitt Ltk.)'tlwi in the .Notional (n.d.). K. KUbltr1 KtromtiJ:IJJ Vl.2. (1970). M"'""" D. Kurtz, Athmian Whit.! Ukythoi: PoUmts orul PainUrs (1975) . A.l.cd:y, .. Ein e n eueT~los-VA.$e, " AA (19;3) 1... A. S. Murray, H.. H.. S mith, Jt'l!ilt Athmian V4Sts Ut 1/u Brilisil Museum ( t8g6). N. Pbarnklas, ... H o.li-roi'M'ov:O €is ~v O.pxo.ta, 1f«pr<WTGTIK~v ·d)(Y1Jv," DeltUm ~ (1970) 36. E. Pouier, EtuJ~s PJr les Ugt_ill.f b/.tuu..J GIJiqurs A ujlYistnlalions fw:lraires ( t883}. - - - ,, "Thanatos tt quelques autre& rq)rt.scntations fun.:raires sur des 16cythes bhma attiques,n MMunttnt.s Piol 2.2. ( tg t6) 35· - - - ,, "Deu.x silen~ detnoli.Mant un ten.re funt:rair ('.."' Monu!tl(fltS Piot ~ ( 1927-28) 1 49· W. Rjetler, WtWgnmdige auile.lu Uk)•tlwt ( 1914)· K. Schauenbul'g, .. Die ·rotcngeuer in dcr unteritali!che Vasenmalcrcj," Jdl lJ ( 1959) ~ H.. Se)·rig, "Sct'llt d'offl'andc fun~bre sur un ICcythe blanc," Milnngu Mcrlier ot (1956) 351. H.. it. W. Smith, .Funnar;J S)'mbfJ!ism in Apulion l'as,-Pttiming: ed.J. K. Anderson (1976}. P. Wolters, " Rotfigw·ige Lutrophoros," AAf t.8 (•1'93) 371, 377- MYCENAEAN BURIAL PRACTICES fl.•f. Androni.kos. ToWihdi, Arduwologio HGmerita W ( 1g66) j(if. - - , Helknikc !..1 { 1962) 12.,: C. W. Bleg('l), boSJfflno. The Htlladit Smltmn~l PmeJUTg tht A,.gi;,>e Hr-r~M-um (1937) 1,56f., ~'28L - --,," POt!t·Mycen;tean l)(.pooits ln Cham· b<>'Tomb.," BphA"h (1937), 377- lLG.. Buchholz, V. KaN~.georghd, Prrln'.sloTie G'"" ""d C,pru> ( 1973) 3!JI'· S. Iakovides, Pmui (1970} B. <2gC:, 21.:. S. I m.merwMr, .4pra XIII, The .Ntolilhie Ol'ld Brqnu Agfs (1971) ~ !..!ift: C. Long, r;.,~ Ayia Triadh" Sar« H. Lorimer, Homr.t tmd the Monumntls (1950} = Copyrighted material 266 BIBLIOGRAPHY : MYCENAEAN B URIAL PRACTICES F. Mat-z., "Die .:i.g3i$," in W. Otto. R. Herbig, Hemdbuth tkr Arth!JolqgU a (Hwu!buch da- - -, :\1;unae and the A{).Ymatan Alf { 1965) ~ A. Schnaufer, Fnihgrildli.sduT Totnlglaube, SpudtWn4ta 20 (1970}. G. Myl<>I'IA$, "Homeric and Mycenaean Buri.U Cu"o""," AJA ~ ( 1g.;8) 56f. E. Vermeule, Cru'e in tM Br<m(e Age ( tg6o~-) 297. 382. A. J. B. Wacc, Cltamher Tombs at M;unae ( 1932) 121. Aitertumswi.ssmsciwft Vl.3) (19M) 275· ---,"Burial Customs,-'-' in A. J. B. Wace, F. Stubbings (eds.), A Companit111 tJJ Homer (1962) 478f. ~ 176. J. Vv'ic:s.ner, Grab undJmrtils (1938). EARLY WARFARE AND DEATH IN BATTLE G. Ahlberg, Fighling on Lmultmd Sla in Gruk CetJmetm Art (1971). C. lkyc, "Homc-.ric BMt-le Narratjvcs and Ca1alogues," HSCP 611 (1964) 345f. J. Carter, "The lkginningt~ of Natrative Art in the C reek Geometric Period/' BS.4 ( 1972) z;f. T. J. Ill Ounbabin, "'Exep~ 1ra.\cu~,'' BSA 31 (193~7) SJr. H.. Erl:ae, "Soobachtungen iibcr da.s 5.: Such der Ilias/' RAM ~ (19~h ) 156f. B. Fcnik, TjpV:al B11tde S«ttt1 in litl niad, H~s Einzelse.hrifhr: a.!l.!g6S). W.-J·(, Friedrich, Vm{JTuuiJm& und TN, AbltAkadW4s Giiuingm ( Phil.-H.illt. Kt J) 3.! ( 1956). Y. Garlan, LA guurt dQnll'llllliquiti (1972). W. Marg, "Kampf und Tod in der IIi~" Du AnJik• t.a (•g.;•) •6z. P. Miniconi, Eim.ksde ~~"Gunrim" (1951}. R. Nierhaus, "Eine frUb,griechi-sche Kampfform," Jdl.;:! ( 1938) gof. W. K. Pritchett, ll~l'lt Gruk Mi.litt:ry· PrtUti".s (1973)· H. Rahn, "Tier und Mensch in d er homeriscben Auffa.ssung der Wirklichbeit/' Pa•'deuma 5 ( 1953-54) 227f., 431f. K . S<.:hefold, "Po~i e homCrique et a rt :uGhai· que," Rn:Anh {197'2) 9.: A. Snodgrass} Earl;· Gred A171fiM' and Weapol'll (1!)64). F. Stubbings, " Arms and Armour.'' in A. J. D. Wacc, 1-". Stubbing~~, A OJmpOJtiOtt,., H"""' (og6z). R. TOile· Kastcnbein, " Homcri!IChe Krieger. ehrung," A~tti.U Wd' 5. (1974) 2L - --, War in Jht (JII(il'flt. world: a social hi.t/Qry ( •975}A. L. Greenhalgh, F.m'l,y Cmk Warfare {1973). .J. T. Krischer, Flmnak Kont't1tlionrn dn lliJmtt'ische EpiJ;, Zllnnoln !& ( 197 1). J. Wiesner, H.:G. Buc.hhob. '' al., Kritgsu:um, K . Laue, "TOdC$$trafe," RE Sup. VII, tS99· H.. Lorimer, HD1M' and thr Monlllflt'IIIS (1950} IS,2f, P. Vernant (ed.), Pro.hUrnu de 14 gume m c,u., ""'"""' (1!)68). drrhHom E (•97~). F. Winter. Die Kampfsz;enen in rkn G1singm MNO - //i., (1956). Copyrighted material SELECT INDEX Aeheron: tbc rn.aj or river of dt>.:r.th, 4 n.6; lote» baokt, !.il.: in Epciros, 2QQ Acbmcs: interested in b.is r~.tnCT3l, 36; and Pol)·· xc.na, .il.i and Pem.hriilci:t, !.£!.; character i.n battle, 2ii death of. t !.£l as Priam's .wn, t t!.i. at p m ing oo.. . !lh 16o : in PJJit~kUUt, r.~J.fil ; ro. mouroing for, a25. Agamrmnon: wcept. in J-ladcs or li\'CS i.o tomb, :19:; preferences in wounding, !l2.i and l ph.igcncia , !.9§. Aithiopiaos: ouu.idc normal boundaries, !.Ji: Stl d~Mcmoon Atnazoru: as boy-girls, 10 2 , !.iZ: Su also Pcntbe· ambMia. Set nckut..r and 01mbrwio. An.::!.kreon : di:lturbcd aOOu t limiuniont o f death, !.35. r\s.tyanax. d eath of, ftL 114-1 Pi. lli Athena: at death ofTydeus, !.3l.i aadling the dc.1d, !1Z be . •)u 90ul-bi.rd B~tt, Sam1.1el, !llll..22 Bcnlc:y, Sir J ohn, !33 Belluophon, 1 ~0. !.£2 bird11 and cJor: Wr.tnnl,s tn e:tcam place of women, tOj:=IOQ board·gawt'$. Su ~ ; llt funer.:.l~, fi!li u rnpi~t, !...!U, 168: sons look for ~~..ntidote to death , !XI Boelw,, Throne, l.fi.1 Bridt o f Drath. ,u bru tality in w·ar, Q5-Q6 crern:u.ion , .•. inllums ti<m, !: trea uucnt of body, I ll- l S i I3C:k a(, :u. outrage, 3: ~ Gcoroettic p13Cticcs, !.2.: Myoct~aean pr.11c:lir;e., :&., ~ prehiitorie forms o f. 43f.: ex<:arnation, !!!i: O<>llec•i-..~. ~ of h.ont'$ and do&'. !'~61 ; or wild animals, ~ by flrc, ~ Su «11() c.:enotapb , tomb burial, it !.3.: ~ cann ibali11m, ~ lw:ro's impube toward, !.2lJ !.lli undvilnat if fli!Jh not cooked, t t o ; of monkey• aod Homeric soldiel'3, t t~ Qntal Hii}-iik, 1§. ca,·cs, c.:aw:rnt : entr3nC('ll w underworld, ii rc:semblt u!ld~wld, ~ of tl\r: d tr:p, !§9. c.:cnotaph, !.1t til ooffim: ilni t~t.l~: huwo, :l!z ~ of Minewt Crctr:, 66-t)Q; of M)'ten:!ea.n T:!na.,gr~~., ~ ~ ~ ., ZQ.i. humiug molifs on, 66f., ~ in fonn of shoe, oolumn, broken, ~ corp$<. &e body !.21 sileia m ch.inb;mdt., !.:1 Circe.. Sa Kirke cycles: or the OCISml)$, !.3:1,; Of the !IOU), lfi2 AJkm;~n: P*Tthendou, !.i.i.i on \'Oica~, Argipp~~.ioi, Charon : .in ferry, i.i ,~;tb PJ)I(IW, 32,; Egyptian counterpart, l2i l!.. obol, l2fi. Chet o f Kypsd011, ~~ !!!z O:swn. Su &Is dnd, tb~ : hungty, !.2:.!fu tb~Nty, .11, 1ii. banq uet of, c:.1.1t to o;; &l<'~ing, li: SOtu:!J activit}' of, ili their journey, ~ !!z.i "=u nio n o f, :1!!:::52: 207 j. r:tising or, il. ' 991:, !221 dou ble lo~ti on o f, i2,; a large com.tituency, 1 .a. can ~ope?, !.11: Su also buri:tl, death, cli.Jthmua, (Una3b., heroes, mourning dc:sth : on the baHkfield, !.&. ~ uo, ~ ;at , ..'3, !!!; a long lransilion, !.i. 3 datk:n(SJ, !1: as nu.nat~, 31::!!i Bride of, .li.i :u a feast in w.\nitn('. !.25.i not nc«ssarily fatal, !..!.!l.i sc.ales of~ 3!b 76-77, !.!.!J !.B . t6of.; ac.,pe from by i:ngt$tion, !..11.: Ste al1q TbaoatOl diJJ!tar;uJ, or men dying twice, !..: ~ t.ll d~' · Sit l)it'(i$ a.nd dosdr:agOfu: sea- f3it')·, u.;, 6MuuJ, lli wcigbi.n g ur .roub, 'ZQj poetN or dtath. tll 'id~ltm; forms in nrt, l! > i.n g.host·r<~is:i.ng, :utO. f.lpen or, in marsha or dea.d. l2, Elysian Fields, El)'Slon, ~ 2!: z:u !..!..9. E-mpedoklcs, ~ Eos, ~~~~~ cbwn gc>ddess, 1&lf.; brin.g~ light, !.i2.i M funeral11, ~ ~ :mcing p iOlC'.CQf, •az; ,a, lover of)·oun.g men, t6t•6ta '!!if tplwrurui, ~ !h, !.!j; &:1 anim3b to slaughter, ~ !ti.; need 10 d.ril'lk, !,!!2 r:pitaphs: not sentimental, ~ not mythologicAl, :h ll.i for men 1. 0$t ~~ &e~, !.!h.: Su ~til() tomb6ton~ Bros: at gaming board?, !12.: with twin H.imeros, !.5:L 157 : qualitie& of, 1$5-f. ; at Thanatoo. r61 i as •phinx, !..Z:lj as p.'Jdl, !.ll.i ~~tiqs, ~ lire, C'OII.S tbe dend, !.!!9 a\ ~ean:ngen, 183- •86; voiedm, !.!:~: food, of imn'oortality, !.3!: Su a/sq oekta r and amb rooia.1 plrortrnJit6ft fish, 18o; Copyrighted material SELECT INDEX 268 [uner&b, ~ 12-21 ; fuacnl p.ma.. §a-62; funttal of Patf'o&l.OJ, !4. Stt tdstt burial gami11g·~tds, of th'(: dead~ I!! ~ ug,; dai.IDOI\J fll, !!!: •w:•§s! Canymctl.e. UL ~ !i:l, a66-161 c~nkn or Cod. !9.! p1a. ol U:adcs. lSi of wn and ~nu., ~ or ~IW'Cfl, tl§: Cr.omc:trlc: 1'1\0\lfn.in.g Jcc:nct, 1 1, t lh.a.S C eryou, L.SJ,. ~ 141• 1« Cbukot of Anchcdon, 111•f32. ~ UU gocb: ~lc<;ton or the dud. ' 09;='10, ! 16: dcprwnl ol dcatb, Wi pka..su..ta m wa~ JIO i daffic:ulries i.n Ute, 122-125. a. gnve-fiiiJ : Ceomeulc:, 1.8.; Myocnac:an. !I§ H;~du (II I'd l'encphonc): wnu;hm of d.c:ad, i i •• sod a"" pLace. 33'·: cbrlmn1 o£, 2!1; ld .nsdom .,..,or, of. · ·".; bub:uians !.l2: !A!,; nCK ~r.a.sed thae, J6; aru v."O\md«t, tu: :..nd tht emptied, 22:1: or d~~e do.d .,' 5efl., ••o; !lSi 1Jf1!1duaUy H ;upies: rdued to Egyptian ~·bird , 21& ma~e wich wi.W., 168: ....., Jlorm-wmd.s. ~ rolct tn cl.nlh, •S,..!.l!l liU s.i'~ ~ had-uopi!Ms. ~ HWtt, pu-t dos utins 1he dead, !.!9. Htlktor, rurw:ra.l of, l.Lr. LU,; 1u woman, r0 3 j nr,iN, U3.a al Thd10, i!l1 Helin•• .tu Sun Hen.klc:itO!I. logic of llw: unknow:tbloe, 1; on •koep, u; on mcwWs and it~UnCWub., Hcnl.· kite» L H.mt AIN,_,Jn, !!} •*·= H~kkl: and Ktrberot. U. icw:Jnuc•:aphy. ~ H yprrbooreans, !.li H ypn !.lll munb· tioJ•• or, ~~"i ; connt eattlt hwtins themes: in fYnCnl i.n baule-~tcne~, 83f. and C'~>on, 1<41f.; and AJk)oontut1 15'l; and HeJiom:, 1..910 and t he old man or d.e jt'll, !.3§. !,!ll; nnd the gold !Jowl of the •un, t!!. !..!3fu. •• lion-man, 36; H~: with W2od. ~ •• cuidc:, 35: with bDoc.s, hi, whh saks, 1§. ~ hero(cs): I)O""er in ~ry, 2.i IOmbs of, LL ?06(,; hung:ry, 22.i, :u b unter :~ nd hunted, !f- •18 ; n plng the cnen1y, .LOL,; ('llling raw Clt'Jh, lltl.i N!(c)rmcd carl'li,·l)rct, Uj. !..!£ balf·IJ;Oll.t, !..&. t.6a: HrroofT~ ~; Hcto l:~ tJICorintb.,. .wr. H<Sp(rids. Hespc:ricb, u§. !1b ~ Hi.merot, !.i!.:. ~ Ul. Of13-29! Hippc:molgoi, !.l5. bi pi)OI)()I~mU:t, 53. U. ll bortn: buri:a4, !&:fit.; and nu.re~ , dw'kucen, ~ a.nd HS. ~ ........ or w dod, .u. a! sn: Ka..Ub.to, 12B ~ Uh!lL~ tn, tnu, of de&tb: charaacrUtia, sgl'.; io J!JYtliOitlm'ai, 3!h ~ ~ i.n cxcan~tion, ~ M)•cc:nacan 1_,i l l lll:c tphinx, ~ at 1.levourer, 1!!.1 lW, nJ Moolh or Hell, 5l Kerbuol, h £11 !lJ KJrlt:, a§. UL !.3L ~ KJ.oa-loo or Undoo. as l..amcnt . See fl»S, n1ournins La.ml:., ~ ~ l..:lomi:don, 1.25. •• .._...,. ~ltw.,." 5! 00.., ·~·· @!.l92. Jouuophoros, l 110 mllgit, !l.i drugs, Ul:.Ull or ....·ordt, ~ M.a,goun, ·rh3u:hcr, ~ - . ,, fft/Jk~~rn, 2!=13. U!lo '2'-'" .....,....,,!!) M..._.,cJ>ou. r. ..& Mtmnon the Aithjopian: with Sl«p and Death, ]6, !l2. !..ll.i duel wi1h AcbjJks, t 6o-t6 t ; in ~~.· """"• ~ mo113ten:. ruin -~ n::t.mO moumJn.c: ~ or, l.i or.remonia or, Ll.i i:n •rt. ll.i. moun1il'll MMI.{t, t.o !..5=.!.L •99'-;oo; tnotunin.g WOt1lCn. ~ 20o; 6glli'O ~ So. Sri diM buri:~J, p 1, Nucldt .._'""""' "" of, h mutilouion. Soc lftiU(M/iJNW n«;ftitnJinty, ~oof. Sn abo pocb neluar 11nd ambi'OIIIJI: leth al, !1l.i m.ukc im· mOft.nH, ti! and Nckyom.a.ntcioo, 200 101 -I'W· .,u we-. '.....,"' NcrdcL., ~ dloNt tJt. tt. ~ m SEJ.EOT I NOI\X ~n. $ J.1b .!!L t68-t 69. Su M ~ a ha.wn lOT ""·omen. .tea Od)"SX"US: dK't r-ite, h ~ in the ~'Orid. zB. :!!! ln war, !1: '' ~ i ;,nd Sircru, 20lHl03 Oidi})Qu•, j!i Orpbeu•, hco~d or, !.!U Orpbtc sold·lco.r guides, ;&. Ortb{t )ot. 0<1')'0n' s dog-uncle, !.1.! P.ttt'Oidol5: f'unrral of, !!..! 521 5Q. ui. !.h;. ck.ath or, 2!.t 1o;; ~or, ~ Pudt' of, !!.. ~ ddight ofdop, ~ P~t~soa: nnd llcllc:rophon, uill; .or~ Q( C'_.·orgon, !:!9. Penthailei:a. t5R-1'\a PcrK"pbonc: : :u aper.ttic d.i.r«tor, ~ k.rrtp • Corson hGd, ,ti; t'U!u iA wu«, L6.L Stw- 0 """"' phalloe-bird, 1?1"'17~ plu!rmahrl.: ~piru1 de.ath, U J.11, !.J.1.i. Kirkt',., !.3.!.a GlaukoJ', t3t-131. ~ wi ne 11!1, UlQ. pht.'IDIIOI, JA3 Piaget, J t:a.il, SJU. Mouton. Pluto. $u R:uln potts: ironic' ahout deu.h. 1. 4.i. at D«tOI'JU.Qttn. ±:t l ~ s ; at pn:~o!dsiooal deat.h-oti:a~. !§, ~s.r. ; untruJtto\'Ortlly, ~ 201: clic.hb or. !2. ... Pulrgnotct, l>'• intillga nl Delp h i, ~ l1l2 pqllr.s. 145f·J IM- 155· U2 proph«y. by lltll nutum. !!n J19tN: ooc. :aff«tal by burial~ 2; itt behavior, n. tl 3S. 118: ~tiltiom in an. g; confusion with body. tihl• and slie, '29f.; :atu•ch.menl 10 gr....~. ;1!,; an:r.ehment to body, uB; Myc:t.nll('~n imagt", ~ n01 lJ nuejar ton• octn for Humcr, l)7: god• hnve none, l '<~'.! i psydllllOitl'fJ, 20a - wJtomM. 3n. ~ l!h .oor. ~. ~ wmd, !!5 Semonidca of ArnorgC~S. sacrifida.l animal• (tp/ltNit'16i). aJL ~ !.9j. L20. JtNI. Su gamin,g·ho-tdt or ICWft() hc'~W., !P?:HA 1q6.-197 .o~l actirit)·: brt•"fftl t:orpKS, !J!. ~ bet'"~ warrlon1 10 1. S. et.. Eros, Slotp Si1nonides, £!., U!!, aoD ~i uncr{ll) : phyt:iesJ p uniJh ment o f wbtn dud, ~ lu.u~.&ry tl.ud thil"'ty~ 1!1 Slre:u•: like b.t·bi.td.i, 1,1.i. like Ht~.rpiet1 ~ thdr voiu:s., !.3.!. ~ thtu h~biu, 2ooto DOt O)'llen, acu ; 1nd potu.. U) Sityphot: ac;apa dtlr.tb br in~ a§. 1~7; with tbt 5tone. l !l.i 1\o"l:a~ ~ SI«P: br(lthu of dnili, •t5f.; qudi tia of, 147~ ,tal\.11!5 o r, ~ Snnopy, B 1t0ul : "' 1t .oul·bird. t u§ Ill. 202; M )'cenaean imase or, ~ 5« ~"' Sp;.rta, wuucs ol sap atld Dcuh, !J! Sphinx: ss M , ~ 11 1r. ; on ~ ~ as -.,~..,... * Jl •r. * S•ft~hon'lll, c~r~. 141f • st;;.n•km. :Lk 53. :;4r. tton~. S# burial. Stmtt, Sisyphm; dcnth by IIOni.ng, ® Sun, tht: monitor o( lntellicmcc. !i.i pulb met~. tnek rrom darll. d; nn-" ndt ...sa Tn.nu.IOi, ~ 32. 1.3J. L2S!,. !.!2 Tart:U1lll, 1'.12. ~ !J! t"untias, in wutimc:, !I!) \ Tba~t(IJ: '"(riflcc: off'ol y.-~a., s.s.; of the li ~n1 1 0 Dionysos., ~ tJf lphi,gf'nci:~., 186; t~of Tro)', 115f:; :u1d cremation, U!!t .aroophagut. SN coffin ~I'})(Qon : lllft.S'Y· Ui dead ~fOre: d~1111h comes., 3li Kmc whh Tb:uu.tos and H YJIMI• !.:I5J !11, !5 modd and.,.,... Tritelia6. ~ rape: of womn,, ~ 115; or .oldiorn. tot; of goddesscl, 120; aKb immortality?, !:lli femalo gr.ucfuJ for ?, ~ tuOiif in myths of T roy, W.. by Eoe:. •thf.; by z.e,.., t S6; by Sphirul, 111f.; ofvirgim u ndc-rw::u~, !g:] Rosi kn tcr, l l3 ~ ScylLA, !h !.9!! W'J I: or dalh, •;<Jf.; ~inc OKJilltcn 182!.; dr.tgOOJ o(, . . •tn: 8ocb in. &88 Jl'lld: connected "'itl1 ca.rly'"'iiOoc «t\'erin&to, u : of (or Gctyo.\, ~ tonn«t.cd ~th HarpiN !, ~ bUeaptorieb.nd. !.31: !.39. ~ "'' here did be gor, 3fi acales: in M)'Cenaean •ombl. 2§.i of death, 151; frt)dO!Iu(a, 16of. sr.: with En:M. 82.; can)-ing me deftd. ••9- •4 ~ Tlthoo.os, T hctu. Stt Nc:rddt !.2!!.. ~ 161- 16"- 'l'iryoe. t 3!!. ~ !.!2 tomb.. i!: ~ U:$la ~ tombM~) : not tomtitncnu.l, l i name on rnninds the dud man wbo he U.. U. uA: few drowr)ed men, J.ll: $u e&o cencn•ph, t'plta ph, ,,... I0118'JI:fi, 197- •gS; dr:~son•' tongut:~, tormm, of the d~d, §. ~ "Totcnmahl" relic&, 17: ~ nanlfonna.tion. u!., !.l!!. •3•- !.33 tfteo.faifY, in Ecl'P4· lil ~ ~ t93 Tnto~~o(l) , 188-199 Troy. !!!a. uJi twins and btot1.cn. J Copyr Qrted r- r 270 SELECT INDEX wounds: a1m visible on gbos.u, 49; of the bladder, g6 voioes.. of wC$tcm a:ingtn, 137 warfare, th- ' 16 wa.shing. St.: fuocrah1 weighing of the dc;ad, ,.G. Sec p..~kl)$f4#4, &ea!CJ White Roc.:k, 4o :J:91 52 wine-, ruin ofmon~t<":n.., 13 1, 18g, of gods, 130 ZtpbyrOJ: Mycenaean?, •69; fatherof Etos?, 169. $tt8on:M Zeua:: and Kates, 39· 76, 1& ; ;u banquec of war, tro; dttp)os and worritd_, 12-3-124_: po~r of, 1as; mastered by Sleep, 147, 151 ; as lcwer, 163; as a big bird, tti&-16 7 Copyrighted material Copyrighted material •

Aspects of Death in Early Greek Art and Poetry (Charles J. Goodwin Award of Merit Sather Classical Lectures , No 46) Read more The Theory of Will in Classical Antiquity (Sather Classical Lectures) Read more Justice of Zeus (Sather Classical Lectures) Read more Justice of Zeus (Sather Classical Lectures) Read more Revenge in Attic and Later Tragedy (Sather Classical Lectures) Read more History and the Homeric Iliad (Sather Classical Lectures, 31) Read more The Greeks and the Irrational (Sather Classical Lectures) Read more The Revolutions of Wisdom: Studies in the Claims and Practice of Ancient Greek Science (Sather Classical Lectures) Read more The Greeks and the Irrational (Sather Classical Lectures) Read more Solon and Early Greek Poetry: The Politics of Exhortation Read more Art of Poetry Read more The Art of Poetry Read more No Award Read more Prayers in Stone: Greek Architectural Sculpture (c. 600-100 B.C.E.) (Sather Classical Lectures) Read more Art and the Early Greek State Read more The Languages of Aristophanes: Aspects of Linguistic Variation in Classical Attic Greek (Oxford Classical Monographs) Read more Christianity and the Rhetoric of Empire: The Development of Christian Discourse (Sather Classical Lectures, 55) Read more Fiction as History: Nero to Julian (Sather Classical Lectures) Read more Christianity and the Rhetoric of Empire: The Development of Christian Discourse (Sather Classical Lectures, Vol 55) Read more Theocritus and the Archaeology of Greek Poetry Read more Oxford Grammar of Classical Greek Read more Oxford Grammar of Classical Greek Read more Stochastic Aspects of Classical and Quantum Systems Read more Mathematical Aspects of Classical and Celestial Mechanics Read more Social Aspects of Early Buddhism Read more Mathematical Aspects of Classical and Celestial Mechanics Read more Fiction as History: Nero to Julian (Sather Classical Lectures, No 58) Read more The Art of Chinese Poetry Read more Art and the Early Greek State (New Studies in Archaeology) Read more Art and the Early Greek State (New Studies in Archaeology) Read more

Recommend Documents Aspects of Death in Early Greek Art and Poetry (Charles J. Goodwin Award of Merit Sather Classical Lectures , No 46) ... The Theory of Will in Classical Antiquity (Sather Classical Lectures) The Theory of Will in Classical Antiquity ALBRECHT DIHLE SATHER CLASSICAL LECTURES Volume Forty Eight The Theory of ... Justice of Zeus (Sather Classical Lectures) Justice of Zeus (Sather Classical Lectures) Revenge in Attic and Later Tragedy (Sather Classical Lectures) cover cover title : author publisher isbn10 | asin print isbn13 ebook isbn13 language subject : : : : : : publicatio... History and the Homeric Iliad (Sather Classical Lectures, 31) HISTORY and the HOMERIC ILIAD HISTORY AND THE HOMERIC ILIAD BY DENYS L. PAGE U N I V E R S I T Y OF CALIFORNIA P R ... The Greeks and the Irrational (Sather Classical Lectures) The Greeks and the Irrational 1 of 165 http://content.cdlib.org/xtf/view?docId=ft0x0n99vw&chunk.id=0&doc.... Preferre... The Revolutions of Wisdom: Studies in the Claims and Practice of Ancient Greek Science (Sather Classical Lectures) Preferred Citation: Lloyd, G.E.R. The Revolutions of Wisdom: Studies in the Claims and Practice of Ancient Greek Science... The Greeks and the Irrational (Sather Classical Lectures) Solon and Early Greek Poetry: The Politics of Exhortation This page intentionally left blank SOLON AND EARLY GREEK POETRY The poetry of archaic Greece gives voice to the hist...