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Chapter 10. Poetic Visions of Immortality for the Hero
νήσοις δ᾽ ἐν μακάρων σέ φασιν εἶναι,
ἵνα περ ποδώκης Ἀχιλεὺς
Τυδεΐδην τέ φασι τὸν ἐσθλὸν Διομήδεα
Harmodios, most phílos! Surely you are not at all dead,
but they say that you are on the Isles of the Blessed,
the same place where swift-footed Achilles is,
and they say that the worthy Diomedes, [2] son of Tydeus, is there too.
The perfect tense of the verb οὐ … τέθνηκας ᾽you are not dead’ leaves room for the reality of the hero’s death: it is not that he did not die, but that he is not dead now. The fact of death, even for the hero, is painfully real and preoccupying. Consider this excerpt from a thrênos by Simonides: [3] {174|175}
θεῶν δ᾽ ἐξ ἀνάκτων ἐγένονθ᾽ υἷες ἡμίθεοι,
ἄπονον οὐδ᾽ ἄφθιτον οὐδ᾽ ἀκίνδυνον βίον
ἐς γῆρας ἐξίκοντο τελέσαντες
Not even those whο were before, once upon a time,
and who were born hēmítheoi as sons of the lord-gods,
not even they reached old age by bringing to a close a lifespan that is without toil,
that is áphthitos [unfailing], that is without danger.
Not even heroes, then, have a bíos ‘lifespan’ that is áphthitos ‘unfailing’; they too have to die before the immortality that is promised by the thrênoi comes true. [4]
ἀλλά οἱ παρά τε πυρὰν τάφον θ᾽ Ἑλικώνιαι παρθένοι
στάν, ἐπὶ θρῆνόν τε πολύφαμον ἔχεαν.
ἔδοξ᾽ ἆρα καὶ ἀθανάτοις,
ἐσθλόν γε φῶτα καὶ φθίμενον ὕμνοις θεᾶν διδόμεν
But when he [Achilles] died, the songs did not leave him,
but the Heliconian Maidens [Muses] stood by his funeral pyre and his funeral mound,
and they poured forth a thrênos that is very renowned.
And so the gods decided
to hand over the worthy man, dead as he was [ phthí menos], to the songs of the goddesses [Muses]. [6]
The key word of the moment, phthí-menos, which I translate here in the conventional mode as ‘dead’, is formed from a root that also carries with it the inherited metaphorical force of vegetal imagery: phthi– inherits the meaning ‘wilt’, as in karpoû phthí sin ‘wilting of the crops’ (Pindar Paean 9.14). [7] Through the comparative method, we can recover kindred vegetal imagery in another derivative of the root, the epithet á- phthi -ton as it applies to the kléos of Achilles at IX 413. [8]
οἵη περ φύλλων γενεή, τοίη δὲ καὶ ἀνδρῶν.
φύλλα τὰ μέν τ᾽ ἄνεμος χαμάδις χέει, ἄλλα δέ θ᾽ ὕλη
τηλεθόωσα φύει, ἔαρος δ᾽ ἐπιγίγνεται ὥρη.
ὣς ἀνδρῶν γενεή ἡ μὲν φύει ἡ δ᾽ ἀπολήγει
Son of Tydeus, you with the great thūmós! Why do you ask about my genēḗ [lineage, line of birth]? [12]
The genēḗ of men is like the genēḗ of leaves.
Some leaves are shed on the earth by the wind,
while others are grown by the greening forest
—and the season of spring is at hand.
So also the genēḗ of men: one grows, another wilts. [13]
Here the life and death of mortals are being overtly compared to a natural process, the growing and wilting of leaves on trees. [14] In another such Homeric display of vegetal imagery, in this case spoken by the god Apollo himself as he talks about the human condition, this natural aspect of death is expressed specifically with the root phthi-:
δειλῶν, οἳ φύλλοισιν ἐοικότες ἄλλοτε μέν τε
ζαφλεγέες τελέθουσιν, ἀρούρης καρπὸν ἔδοντες,
ἄλλοτε δὲ φθινύθουσιν ἀκήριοι
… if I should fight you on account of mortals,
the wretches, who are like leaves. At given times,
they come to their fullness, bursting forth in radiance, [15] eating the crops of {178|179} the Earth,
while at other times they wilt [ phthi-núthousin ], victims of fate.
ναὶ μὰ τόδε σκῆπτρον, τὸ μὲν οὔ ποτε φύλλα καὶ ὄζους
φύσει, ἐπεὶ δή πρῶτα τομήν ἐν ὄρεσσι λέλοιπεν,
οὐδ᾽ ἀναθηλήσει· περὶ γάρ ῥά ἑ χαλκὸς ἔλεψε {179|180}
φύλλα τε καὶ φλοιόν. νῦν αὖτέ μιν υἷες Ἀχαιῶν
ἐν παλάμῃς φορέουσι δικασπόλοι
But Ι will say to you and swear a great oath:
I swear by this skêptron , which will no longer ever grow leaves and shoots,
ever since it has left its place where it was cut down on the mountaintops—
and it will never bloom again, for Bronze has trimmed its leaves and bark.
But now the sons of the Achaeans hold it in their hands as they carry out díkai.
Achilles is here swearing not only by the skêptron but also in terms of what the skêptron is—a thing of nature that has been transformed into a thing of culture. [17] The Oath of Achilles is meant to be just as permanent and irreversible as the process of turning a shaft of living wood into a social artifact. [18] And just as the skêptron is imperishable ‘áphthiton‘, so also the Oath of Achilles is eternally valid, in that Agamemnon and the Achaeans will permanently regret not having given the hero of the Iliad his due tīmḗ (Iliad I 240–244).
οὔτ᾽ οὖν σῖτον ἔδων, οὐ θησάμενος
……………………………………………………..
χρίεσκ᾽ ἀμβροσίῃ ὡς εἰ θεοῦ ἐκγεγαῶτα,
ἡδὺ καταπνείουσα καὶ ἐν κόλποισιν ἔχουσα· [22]
νύκτας δὲ κρύπτεσκε πυρὸς μένει ἠΰτε δαλὸν
λάθρα φίλων γονέων· τοῖς δὲ μέγα θαῦμ᾽ ἐτέτυκτο
ὡς προθαλής τελέθεσκε, θεοῖσι δὲ ἄντα ἐῴκει
She nurtured him in the palace, and he grew up like a daímōn ,
not eating food, not sucking from the breast
……………………………………………………………………..
She used to anoint him with ambrosia, as if he had been born of the goddess, [23]
and she would breathe down her sweet breath on him as she held him at her bosom.
At nights she would conceal him within the ménos of fire, [24] as if he were a {181|182} smoldering log, [25]
and his parents were kept unaware. But they marveled
at how full in bloom he came to be, and to look at him was like looking at the gods.
The underscored phrase [in bold] at verse 235, meaning ‘and he grew up like a daímōn’, contains a word that we have in fact already seen in the specific function of designating heroes on the level of cult (Hesiod Works and Days 122, Theogony 991). [26]
ἥ τ᾽ ἐπεὶ ἂρ τέκον υἱὸν ἀμύμονά τε κρατερόν τε,
ἔξοχον ἡρώων· ὁ δ᾽ ἀνέδραμεν ἔρνεϊ ἶσος
τὸν μὲν ἐγὼ θρέψασα, φυτὸν ὣς γουνῷ ἀλωῆς,
νηυσὶν ἐπιπροέηκα κορωνίσιν Ἴλιον εἴσω
Τρωσὶ μαχησόμενον· τὸν δ᾽ οὐχ ὑποδέξομαι αὖτις
οἴκαδε νοστήσαντα δόμον Πηλήϊον εἴσω.
Ah me, the wretch! Ah me, the mother—so sad it is—of the very best.
I gave birth to a faultless and strong son,
the very best of heroes. [29] And he shot up like a seedling. [30] {182|183}
I nurtured him [31] like a shoot in the choicest spot of the orchard, [32]
only to send him off on curved ships to fight at Troy.
And I will never be welcoming him back home as returning warrior, back to the House of Peleus.
The context of these words is an actual lamentation (góos: XVIII 51), sung by the mother of Achilles himself over the death of her son [33] —a death that is presupposed by the narrative from the very moment that the death of the hero’s surrogate Patroklos is announced to him. [34]
φθῖσαι φῦλ̓ ἀμενηνὰ χαμαιγενέων ἀνθρώπων
σπέρμ᾽ ὑπὸ γῆς κρύπτουσα, καταφθινύθουσα δὲ τιμὰς
ἀθανάτων
For she [Demeter] is performing [43] a mighty deed,
to destroy [ phthî-sai ] the tribes of earth-born men, causing them to be without ménos ,
by hiding the Seed underground—and she is destroying [ kata-phthi-núthousa ] the tīmaí of the immortal gods.
First, we are shown what the prolonged death of vegetation does to mortals, and we start with the adjective amenēná ‘without ménos‘ at verse 352, derived from the noun ménos ‘power’. [44] This epithet is proleptic, in that it anticipates what Demeter does to mortals by virtue of taking away the sustenance of vegetation: she thereby takes away their ménos, and this action is here equated with the action of phthîsai at verse 352, meaning ‘destroy’ or, from the metaphorical standpoint of human life as plant life, ‘cause [plants] to fail’. [45] In Homeric diction, the intransitive uses of the same verb phthi– can designate the failing of wine supplies (Odyssey ix 163) and of food supplies (Odyssey xii 329); when the food supplies fail, katé phthi to, the ménea of men who eat them fail also (Odyssey iv 363). Second, we are shown what the prolonged death of vegetation does to the immortal gods: again, the action of Demeter is designated with the verb phthi– (kata phthi núthousa, verse 353), but here the image of plant failure applies not to the gods directly but to their tīmai ‘cults’ instead. The impact of prolonged plant failure on cult is explicit:
λιμοῦ ὑπ᾽ ἀργαλέης, γεράων τ᾽ ἐρικυδέα τιμήν
καὶ θυσιῶν ἤμερσεν Ὀλύμπια δώματ᾽ ἔχοντας {186|187}
She [Demeter] would have completely destroyed the génos of méropes men
with the painful famine, and she would have taken away from the gods who live in their Olympian abode
the tīmḗ of honorific portions and sacrifices. [46]
We see, then, that the indefinite perpetuation of vegetal death as expressed by phthi– is a natural image of cosmic disorder; it functions as a foil for the cultural image of cosmic order, as represented by the indefinite perpetuation of vegetal life and as expressed by áphthito-. We also see now more clearly the suitability of this epithet áphthito- for the function of defining not only cult in particular but also the eternal cosmic apparatus of the immortal gods in general. [47]
ἴφθιμον Φαέθοντα, θεοῖς ἐπιείκελον ἄνδρα.
τόν ῥα νέον τέρεν ἄνθος ἔχοντ᾽ ἐρικυδέος ἥβης
παῖδ᾽ ἀταλὰ φρονέοντα φιλομμειδής Ἀφροδίτη
ὦρτ᾽ ἀνερειψαμένη, καί μιν ζαθέοις ἐνὶ νηοῖς
νηοπόλον μύχιον ποιήσατο, δαίμονα δῖον
And she [Eos] sprouted for Kephalos an illustrious son,
sturdy Phaethon, a man who looked like the gods.
When he was young and still had the tender bloom of glorious adolescence,
Aphrodite philommeidḗs [63] rushed up and snatched him away as he was thinking playful thoughts.
And she made him an underground temple attendant, a dîos daímōn , in her holy temple.
Phaethon in the afterlife is overtly presented as a daímōn of cult (Theogony 991) who functions within an undisturbed corner plot, múkhos, of Aphrodite’s precinct (hence múkhios at Theogony 991) [64] as the goddess’s nēópolos ‘temple attendant’ (again Theogony 991). The designation of Phaethon as daímōn also conveys the immortal aspect of the hero in his afterlife, since it puts him in the same category as the Golden Generation, who are themselves explicitly daímones (Works and Days 122). [65] As for the mortal aspect of Phaethon, we may observe the vegetal imagery surrounding his birth and adolescence. When he is about to be snatched away forever, he bears the ánthos ‘bloom’ of adolescence (Theogony 988). Earlier, the verb that denotes his very birth from Eos is phītū́sato (Theogony 986): the Dawn Goddess ‘sprouted’ him as if he were some plant. We see here in the Theogony the only application {191|192} of phīt ū́ ein ‘sprout’ to the act of reproduction, which is elsewhere conventionally denoted by tíktein and geínasthai. [66] The most immediate parallel is the birth of the Athenian hero Erekhtheus, who was directly sprouted by Earth herself:
θρέψε Διὸς θυγάτηρ, τέκε δὲ ζείδωρος ἄρουρα,
κὰδ δ᾽ ἐν Ἀθήνῃς εἷσεν, ἑῷ ἐν πίονι νηῷ.
ἔνθα δέ μιν ταύροισι καὶ ἀρνειοῖς ἱλάονται
κοῦροι Ἀθηναίων περιτελλομένων ἐνιαυτῶν
Αthena the daughter of Zeus once upon a time
nurtured him, but grain-giving earth gave him birth, [67]
and she [Athena] established him in Athens, in her own rich temple,
and there it is that the koûroi of the Athenians supplicate him,
every year when the time comes, with bulls and lambs.
As with Phaethon, the immortal aspect of the hero Erekhtheus is conveyed by his permanent installation within the sacred precinct of a goddess. [68]
on account of his beauty, so that he might be among the Immortals.
The Homeric Hymn to Aphrodite elaborates on the same myth: it was Zeus himself who abducted Ganymedes (Hymn to Aphrodite 202–203). Here too, the motive is presented as the same: {192|193}
on account of his beauty, so that he might be among the Immortals.
In this retelling as well as in all the others, Ganymedes becomes the cup bearer of Zeus; and as such he abides in the gods’ royal palace at Olympus (Hymn to Aphrodite 204–206). By virtue of gaining Olympian status, he is in fact described as an Immortal himself:
immortal and unaging, just as the gods are. [70]
As cup bearer and boy-love of Zeus, Ganymedes also qualifies as a daímōn:
ἤρατο καὶ Κρονίδης ἀθανάτων βασιλεύς,
ἁρπάξας δ᾽ ἐς Ὄλυμπον ἀνήγαγε καί μιν ἔθηκεν
δαίμονα, παιδείης ἄνθος ἔχοντ᾽ ἐρατόν
Loving a boy is a pleasant thing. For even the Son of Kronos,
king of the Immortals, loved Ganymedes.
He abducted him, took him up to Olympus, [71] and made him
a daímōn , having the lovely bloom of boyhood.
The parallelisms between this Theognidean passage about Ganymedes and the Hesiodic passage about Phaethon (Theogony 986–991) are remarkable not just because of the convergences in detail (both heroes are described as daímōn, both have the ánthos ‘bloom’ of youth, etc.). An even more remarkable fact about these parallelisms is that the processes of preservation on Olympus and preservation in cult function as equivalent poetic themes.
… to whatever place the wondrous áella abducted him
Actually, in every other Homeric attestation of anēreípsanto besides XX 234, the notion ‘gusts of wind’ serves as subject of the verb. [72] When Penelope mourns the unknown fate of her absent son Telemachus, she says:
But now the thúellai have abducted my beloved son.
When Telemachus mourns the unknown fate of his absent father Odysseus, he says: [73]
But now the hárpuiai have abducted him, without kléos.
οἴχοιτο προφέρουσα κατ᾽ ἠερόεντα κέλευθα,
ἐν προχοῇς δὲ βάλοι ἀψορρόου Ὠκεανοῖο
or later, may a thúella abduct me;
may it go off and take me away along misty ways,
and plunge me into the streams of Okeanos, which flows in a circle.
As precedent for being abducted by a gust of wind and cast down into the Okeanos, her words evoke the story about the daughters of Pandareos: {194|195}
as when the thúellai took away the daughters of Pandareos
This mention of abduction is followed by a description of how the Pandareids were preserved by the Olympian goddesses (Odyssey xx 67–72). The preservation of the girls is then interrupted by death, at the very moment that Aphrodite is arranging for them to be married (Odyssey xx 73–74). Death comes in the form of abduction:
Ὠκεανὸς ἀνίησιν ἀναψύχειν ἀνθρώπους
but the Okeanos sends up the gusts of shrill-blowing Zephyros
at all times, so as to reanimate men [81]
On the basis, then, of incidental references to the Sun and its movements in epic diction, we can detect a solar model of death and regeneration—both through the Okeanos. Moreover, we see that this solar model applies to the general theme of the hero’s return from death. As we now look for specific instances of this theme, we turn to the myths about the personification of sunrise, Eos. In doing so we {196|197} also confront a third theme in the myths of abduction: having already noted death and preservation, we are ready to reckon with a theme of sex.
on account of his beauty, so that he might be among the Immortals
The very same words, as we have seen, mark the immortalization of Ganymedes after his abduction by Zeus (Iliad XX 235; cf. Hymn to Aphrodite 203). [83] The divine motive for abduction by Eos is thus both preservative and sexual. [84]
Lámpos and Phaéthōn , who are the horses that pull Ēṓs
We may note that Lámpos, the name of her other horse, is also associated with the notion of brightness. The Rig-Vedic parallel here is that Sūrya– the sun god is called the ‘bright horse’, śvetám … áśvam, of the Dawn Goddess Uṣas– (Rig-Veda 7.77.3; cf. 7.78.4). There is also, within Homeric diction itself, an internal analogue to the combination of Phaéthōn and Lámpos at xxiii 246. The names for the daughters of Hḗlios the sun god are Phaéthousa and Lampetíē (Odyssey xii {198|199} 132), which are feminine equivalents of Phaéthōn and Lámpos. [87] The Rig-Vedic parallel here is that the name for the daughter of Sūrya– the sun god is Sūryā (Rig-Veda 1.116.17), a feminine equivalent of the masculine name. The comparative evidence of this contextual nexus suggests that the Horses of the Dawn at xxiii 246 had once been metaphorical aspects of the Sun. As in the Rig-Veda, the Sun could have been called the bright horse of the Dawn—by such names as Phaéthōn or Lámpos. Once the metaphor is suspended, then the notion ‘Horse of the Dawn’ becomes reorganized: if the Dawn has a horse, she will actually have not one but two for a chariot team, and the two kindred solar aspects Phaéthōn ‘bright’ and Lámpos ‘bright’ will do nicely as names for two distinct horses. Yet the surviving function of Phaethousa and Lampetiê as daughters of Helios serves as testimony for the eroded personal connotations of the names Phaéthōn and Lámpos. By contrast, the metaphor is maintained in the Rig-Veda, where Sūrya– the sun god is both bridegroom and horse of the dawn goddess Uṣas-. There is even a special word that conveys both functions of Sūrya– namely márya– (Rig-Veda 1.115.2, 7.76.3). In fact, the metaphorical equation of horse and bridegroom is built into various rituals of Indic society, such as that of initiation, and a key to this equation is the same word márya – and its Iranian cognate. [88]
τὰν Διὸς οὐρανίαν ἀείδομεν,
τὰν ἐρώτων πότνιαν, τὰν παρθένοις
γαμήλιον Ἀφροδίταν.
πότνια, σοὶ τάδ᾽ ἐγὼ νυμφεῖ᾽ ἀείδω,
Κύπρι θεῶν καλλίστα,
τῷ τε νεόζυγι σῷ
πώλῳ τὸν ἐν αἰθέρι κρύπτεις,
σῶν γάμων γένναν
Hymen, Hymen!
We sing the celestial daughter of Zeus,
the Mistress of Love, the one who gets maidens united in matrimony, Aphrodite.
My Lady, I sing this wedding song to you, {199|200}
O Kypris, most beautiful of gods!
—and also to your newly yoked
pôlos [horse], the one you hide in the aether,
the offspring of your wedding.
The pôlos ‘horse’ of Aphrodite is Hymen himself, [89] and we note that the same word at xxiii 246 designates the horses of Eos, Phaethon and Lampos. We also note that Hymen’s epithet νεόζυγι ᾽newly yoked’ (line 233) marks him as Aphrodite’s bridegroom (compare the diction in Aeschylus Persians 541–542; Euripides Medea 804–805; also fr. 821N). As for the appositive σῶν γάμων γένναν ‘offspring of your wedding’ (line 235), it conveys that Hymen is also Aphrodite’s son. We must at the same time appreciate that this entire wedding song to Aphrodite and Hymen is being sung in honor of Phaéthōn, and that his bride-to-be is in all probability a daughter of the Sun. [90] Finally, we note that Aphrodite here functions as τὰν Διὸς οὐρανίαν ‘the celestial daughter of Zeus’ (line 228). This characterization now brings us to a third important reason for comparing the Indic traditions about Sūrya-‘Sun’ and Uṣas– ‘Dawn’ with the Greek traditions about Phaéthōn and Ēṓs.
She alone has no share in the baths of Okeanos.
Since the theme of plunging into the Okeanos conveys the process of death (see again Odyssey xx 63–65), it follows that the exemption of Arktos from ever having to set into the Okeanos conveys her immortality. The Arktos ‘stalks Orion’, Ōrī́ōna dokeúei (Odyssey v 274 = Iliad XVIII 488), and the verb dokeúei ‘stalks’ implies doom. In Homeric diction, it applies when marksmen or beasts take aim at their victims (Iliad XIII 545, XVI 313, VIII 340). [98] In the lore reported by Pausanias (8.35.6–7), the name Arktos applies also to Kallisto as mother of Arkas and hence progenitrix of the Arkades ‘Arcadians’; she is represented as being turned into a bear and being killed by Artemis. The heroine Kallistṓ herself is the ritual antagonist of Artemis Kallístē, whose sanctuary is located on the “Mound of Kallisto” (Pausanias 8.35.8). [99] On the basis of such traditions, featuring an intimate nexus between Artemis and the concept of Árktos, we are encouraged to infer an actual identification in the astral scheme: an immortal Árktos stalks a mortal Orion at v 273–275 and XVIII 487–489, and the image implicitly retells the myth of Artemis killing Orion, explicit at v 121–124. As Odysseus is floating along on his nocturnal sea voyage, he contemplates this image of Arktos stalking Orion in the sky above (Odyssey v 271–275), which Kalypso had marked out for him to fix the direction in which his raft is to sail (Odyssey v 276–277). Since Kalypso {202|203} herself had compared her seduction of Odysseus with the abduction of Orion by Eos (Odyssey v 121), the connected theme of Orion’s death from the shafts of Artemis (Odyssey v 122–124) makes the image of Arktos stalking Orion at v 271–275 an ominous sign indeed for Odysseus. He is being guided away from the Island of Kalypso by a celestial sign that points to the fate awaiting him if he had stayed behind as bedmate of the immortal goddess.
Ideally, we could embark on a detailed survey of these additional types, but it will suffice for us now to draw inferences from the model featuring abduction by Eos or by the divine figures that replaced her functions. Even in the case of this model, however, I dare make no claim that we have seen the whole picture. Every additional attestation would serve to enhance and even alter our perception of Eos and how she confers immortality on the hero. [103]
οἱ μὲν δυσομένου Ὑπερίονος, οἱ δ᾽ ἀνιόντος {205|206}
the Aithiopes, who are divided in two, the most remote of men:
some where Hyperion [Helios] sets, others where he rises
νηῦς, ἀπὸ δ᾽ ἵκετο κῦμα θαλάσσης εὐρυπόροιο
νῆσόν τ᾽ Αἰαίην, ὅθι τ᾽ Ἠοῦς ἠριγενείης
οἰκία καὶ χοροί εἰσι καὶ ἀντολαὶ Ἠελίοιο …
But when the ship left the stream of the river Okeanos,
and reached the waves of the sea with its wide-flung paths,
and then the Island Aiaia—and there are the abode and the dancing places
of early-born Eos, and the sunrises of Helios …
In short, the Okeanos in the extreme East is a key to the emergence of Odysseus from his sojourn in the world of the dead—a sojourn that began when he reached the Okeanos in the extreme West.
From this information, however fragmentary it may be, we discover that even a hero who has been translated into a remote state of immortality is traditionally eligible to have not only a cult but even a grave or funeral mound. [115]
Footnotes