Kinyras: The Divine Lyre

  Franklin, John Curtis. 2016. Kinyras: The Divine Lyre. Hellenic Studies Series 70. Washington, DC: Center for Hellenic Studies.

21. Syro-Cilician Approaches

Kinnaru of Ugarit, I have argued, was probably but one regional manifestation of a more widespread pattern. Kinnaru himself, of course, belongs to a Syrian milieu. We also saw that material from the Hurrian sphere, stretching across Syria and into Cilicia/Kizzuwatna, documents both its second-­millennium kinnāru-culture, and divinization of cult tools and objects (see Chapter 6).

In what follows, I shall argue that Syrian and Syro-Hurrian kinnāru culture has also left its imprint on several mythological traditions tracing Kinyras to North Syria and Cilicia. These complement, rather than contradict, Kinyras’ Byblian, and perhaps Sidonian, connections discussed in Chapters 19 and 20. And whereas with Byblos one must question whether Kinyras was a secondary accretion through his association with Adonis, the present material makes Adonis himself seem ancillary. While the geographical orientation of these sources is unambiguous overall, they present many puzzles, often insoluble. It is all the more welcome, therefore, that Cilicia has produced our most compelling iconographic evidence for a Divine Lyre—the so-called Lyre-Player Group of Seals, an analysis of which will appropriately conclude this study.

More revealing evidence comes from two mythographic passages that share a basic framework, beginning with a descent from the Athenian hero Kephalos and leading to Kinyras’ marriage with Pygmalion’s daughter on Cyprus. The Kephalid genealogy is managed quite differently in each text, with the integration of disparate epichoric material presenting many interpretive challenges. But the unique names of Pygmalion’s daughter (Metharme or Thymarete, obviously variants) and Oxyporos, her son with Kinyras, show that this much of the two constructions is cognate; and that in turn permits a degree of comparative analysis that implicates a third text, bearing on what may be called the Egyptian Detour.

Aoios and Paphos: Two Cilician Crossings

As to ‘Paphos’, this is only one of several genealogical constructions connecting Kinyras to the city of that name. A Pindaric scholion makes Kinyras’ parents Eurymedon and a Paphian nymph (or the ‘nymph Paphia’). [25] Eurymedon, if it is not a speaking-name, [26] could indicate autochthonous connections with southern Anatolia, as there was a Pamphylian river so called, and a region near Tarsus in Cilicia. [27] If this is the right approach, it would imply some crossing to Cyprus, either by Kinyras or Eurymedon himself, since the nymph-bride suggests a local Paphian birth (for both her and her son). An alternative Paphian mother is probably to be found in the ‘Paphos’ whom Ovid makes the offspring of Pygmalion and his ivory beloved. Although this child’s gender is obscured by variant readings, a female Paphos is more likely on our current understanding of the textual tradition. [28] A male interpretation is found in Medieval mythographers like Theodontius and Boccaccio, who not unreasonably assumed that Ovid intended a dynastic sequence Pygmalion > Paphos > Kinyras (see Appendix F, G). And, indeed, a father Paphos was evidently the norm. Besides the Dionysian scholion—obviously independent of Ovid—Paphos is probably given as Kinyras’ father by another Pindaric scholion. [29] Then there is an early third-century CE papyrus of ‘Greek Questions’, in which Paphos, unambiguously male, is called mētropoleítēs, citizen of the ‘mother city’—a designation Paphos enjoyed vis-à-vis the rest of Cyprus in the Roman period. [30] Clearly the question assumed that Paphos himself founded the city. If the text has been rightly supplemented with a reference to his son, it attests an otherwise unknown episode in which Kinyras steals something from Aphrodite and takes it to his house; the goddess comes, sees it in his hand, and seduces him in mortal guise. This explained some Paphian cult-practice involving “garlands of roses.” Adonis’ metamorphosis into the rose (through his blood) was presumably a parallel aition. [31]

Aoios’ most frequent connections are with Cilicia. The area as a whole is said to have been called Aoia (probably poetic), [52] and Hesykhios tells us that the Cilicians were called Aoioi either from a river which flowed through the area (the Aoios, obviously) or “from Aoios the son of Kephalos.” [53] This dual entry brings us full circle to the scholiast’s Kephalid Aoios, and encourages us to view hero and river as largely the same (like the Adonis river at Byblos). There is an obvious parallel between the Cilician river’s resurgence on Cyprus (Parthenios) and the hero’s own crossing to the island (clearly implied by the scholiast’s location of his birth in ‘Asia’, on the one hand, and the strong Cypriot connections asserted by Phileas on the other). This deduction is confirmed by a precious, though meager, notice preserved in Isidore of Seville (ca. 600 CE), who mentions an “Aeos (sic) son of Typhon” as founder Paphos. [54] (Boccaccio brought this passage to the attention of King Hugo IV of Cyprus, and noted the conflict with Pygmalion > Paphos in Ovid. [55] ) The lucky mention of Typhon guarantees that a Cilician Aoios is in view, and connects him precisely to the Corycian Cave. The monster’s ‘fathering’ of a river is paralleled by a Syrian version of the Typhon myth, localized at Antioch: the monster’s slaughter by Zeus engendered a river, probably the Orontes. [56] Phileas is likely to have presented some such Cypriot immigration scenario; for while the geographer clearly treated Aoios’ insular associations in some detail, Anatolian matters dominate his other fragments (nearly half). [57] An immigrant Aoios also seems to have induced textual corruption in one MS of the Dionysian scholia. [58]

Given all this material, it is remarkable that the scholion credits not Aoios, but Paphos, with the passage to Cyprus and the city foundation there. Paphos appears to have displaced his brother, who was nevertheless kept in the family.

Solar Gods, Sandokos, and the Syrian Descent

Preliminarily we may notice Kinyras’ three daughters and their Egyptian grooms, whom I shall propose below to identify with Hyon and his brothers in the first text above. For now we shall concentrate, as before, on the elements of Kinyras’ descent from Kephalos.

Ps.-Apollodoros’ genealogy can be seen in part as an expansion of what the scholiast gave, without implying any immediate textual dependence. While they diverge in whom they make founder of Paphos (Paphos and Kinyras, respectively), this difference is relatively insignificant for contemplating structural sympathies between the lineages, since the scholion was itself internally divided on the issue (so to speak), with Paphos evidently displacing Aoios as founder. Indeed, it is Aoios who provides the more obvious thematic link to ps.-Apollodoros, the first part of whose genealogy is dominated by figures with solar associations (Kephalos, Tithonos, Phaethon). At the same time, their obviously purposeful concatenation makes one wonder how best to approach the lineage—as a whole, in segments, or as individual links. Let us examine each element in turn.

As to Sandokos himself, there are two schools of thought. Already in 1877 E. Meyer connected him with the Sandas (Sandes, Sandon, Sandan) whom a handful of classical sources treat as a hero or god associated especially with Cilicia, Cappadocia, and Lydia; he is shown on terracotta reliefs and coins from Hellenistic and Roman Tarsus, and is found as a theophoric element in many PNs in these regions. [80] Ammianus Marcellinus (fourth century CE) knew a tradition that Tarsus was founded not by Perseus, but by Sandan—“a wealthy noble, setting out from †Aethio. [81] Some would read Aithiopia here, a kind of parallel for Sandokos leaving Syria. But this emendation is hardly certain, and would seem to conflict with Sandas’ probable Cilician/Luwian origin. [82] While Sandas is not lacking further Syro-Phoenician associations, these are evidently secondary. [83] This is indicated first by Stephanos of Byzantium’s entry on Adana, the ancient royal seat of the House of Mopsos/Hiyawa in Cilicia. [84] Here ‘Sandes’ is a son of Gaia and Ouranos—thus a Titan, brother to an eponymous Adanos and two further Cilician figures, Ostasos and Olymbros, along with the more familiar Kronos, Rhea, and Iapetos. [85] This portrayal of Sandas as an ‘Elder God’ was dramatically confirmed by PNs in documents of the OA colony at Kanesh (ca. 1900), [86] and fourteenth/thirteenth-century Luwo-Hittite and Hurro-Hititte texts. [87] The most informative of the latter corroborates Sandas’ Cilician associations. This is the Zarpiya ritual, named after a divination-priest (A.ZU) of Kummanni—probably in later Cappadocia, but once capital of Kizzuwatna. The ritual, calling on Sandas repeatedly, was to be performed “If the year (is) bad, (and) there is constant dying in the land.” [88] He is invoked as “Divine Šantaš, King” or “Sun of Heaven,” and represented logographically as Marduk (dAMAR.UD). [89] The ritual includes an invocation of the deified ancestors and the god Ea to partake in offerings; a choir of virgin boys to sing in Luwian; and a “quasi-bilingual Luwian hymn” to be “conjured” by the “Lord of the House” (probably a priest). [90] The reason for the identification of Šantaš and Marduk, and his description as ‘Sun of Heaven’, though not entirely clear, [91] support his interpretation as a war god and pantheon-head. [92] That he was equally connected with the agrarian cycle is suggested both by the context of the Zarpiya ritual, and an annual ‘burning-man’ ceremony attested down into Roman times, which was also a basis for the general identification of Sandas with Herakles from the Hellenistic period onwards. [93]

The competing interpretation of Sandokos, going back to J. P. Brown in 1965, was recently revived and strengthened by James and van der Sluijs. [94] Brown proposed to derive Sandokos from Sem. √ṣdq (‘righteous’) on the strength of the Sydyk who appears among the culture-heroes of Philo of Byblos, who renders him in Greek as ‘Just’ (díkaion). [95] Sydyk’s twin, not noted by Brown, is Misor, which should mean ‘Fair’. [96] At that time it was debated whether Philo’s Justice Brothers went back to true Canaanite/Phoenician deities, or were abstractions of a later age. But in 1968 the pair was discovered as Ṣdq Mšr in an Ugaritic text, evidently a prayer for blessing from a long list of gods, nearly all grouped in twos. [97] This confirmed the theophoric character of the element ṣdq in PNs, of which there are Amorite, Ugaritic, Biblical, and Phoenician examples, including a fifth-century king of Lapethos, on Cyprus, called Ṣdqmlk, ‘Sydyk-is-king’. [98] This last name points to the special associations of ṣdq and mšr with Canaanite/Phoenician royal ideology. [99] Already a tenth-century Byblian inscription describes Yahimilk as ‘just king’ (mlk ṣdq) and ‘righteous king’ (mlk yšr, < mšr). [100] Similar applications are found in Biblical contexts, typically in connection with the justice of Yahweh. [101] Cognate ideas in Mesopotamia, going back to the OAkk. period, are connected with the pair Misharum and Kittum, who sometimes belong to the divine retinue of the sun-god Shamash; though Ṣdq is ‘replaced’ here by Kittum, Ṣdq’s own solar associations are seen in the expression “Sun of Righteousness” in the Hebrew prophet Malachi. [102]

Although no specific attributes have yet materialized for Ṣdq in Ugaritic texts, there are some relevant notices in classical sources deriving from the Syro-Phoenician sphere. Philo places his Sydyk and Misor later in the same stretch of culture-heroes that earlier included Khousor and the unnamed brother whom I would interpret as an evanescent ‘Kinyras’. [103] The two sections appear to be doublets in part, probably due to Philo’s harmonization of parallel regional variants. But evidently he did not understand Sydyk’s and Misor’s ancient attributes very well. [104] Their puzzling discovery of salt has been variously explained (always looking to royal and juridical ideals). [105] Misor’s son Taautos (< Thoth) is credited with inventing the alphabet, echoing Khousor’s lógoi. Sydyk’s children are unnamed but compared to the Dioskouroi and other Greek brother-sets; they invented ships and sailing (again recalling Khousor and his brother), [106] while their own unnamed sons discovered the medicinal use of herbs and (again like Khousor) incantations (epōidaí). [107] Later, in speaking of Beirut, Philo adds that Sydyk was father, by one of the Kotharat goddesses (whom he calls ‘Titanids’ or ‘Artemids’), of ‘Asklepios’—a Greek calque that also suggests medical and incantatory skills. [108] Yet when Sydyk’s eight sons are united at the climax of Philo’s account, they are cited not for doctorly virtues, but wordcraft. The deeds of Kronos/El, Philo says, were recorded “by the seven sons of Sydyk—the Kabeiroi—and the eighth son, their brother Asklepios,” at the behest of Misor’s son Taautos. [109] The commemoration and celebration of the world order through scribal arts are appropriately attributed to descendants of the Just-and-Righteous Brothers; but this equally echoes the lógoi of Khousor (and the exegetical activities of Khousarthis, his female counterpart). [110]

Let us now consider the relative merits of Sandokos’ two paternity suits. Against the prima facie similarity of Šantaš and Sandokos (especially given a PN like Sandokes, satrap of Cyme during Xerxes’ invasion), one may place the form Sadykos of Damaskios, and the Greek rendering of the Heb. priestly title Ṣādōq (< √ṣdq) as Saddouk and Saddoukaîoi (with dissimilation of dd to nd readily paralleled in Imperial Aramaic). [114] Both Šantaš and Ṣdq enjoy the BA antiquity of Kinnaru/Kinyras. Both have the solar associations that would explain Sandokos’ integration into the lineage of ps.-Apollodoros; but the credentials of Ṣdq are rather stronger and clearer here. Astynoos/Astynoos, evidently reflecting ideas of civic justice, also seems more immediately relevant to Ṣdq; recall that Kinyras had daughters called ‘Orsedike’ (‘Upright Justice’), Laodike (‘Justice for the People’), and possibly Eunoe (‘Benevolence’). [115] But Šantaš as a Marduk-like city-god (Tarsus) might also support such ideas. While Sandas seems a good match for Sandokos’ foundation of Kelenderis and alliance with Ura/Hyria, one wonders why the more traditional Tarsus was not mentioned instead. And Sandokos’ departure from Syria for Cilicia is certainly better suited to Ṣdq. The geographical trajectory might be mapped, for instance, onto Ugarit’s relations with Ura/Hyria; or IA Phoenician penetration of Cilicia—noting that ṣdq appears as a royal virtue of Azatiwatas in the Phoenician texts at Karatepe (ca. 725–700), while an inscription from Cebel Ires Daği (ca. 650) “even indicates that judicial records were written in Phoenician.” [116] That both Ṣdq and Kinnaru were divinized at Ugarit also makes Ṣdq the more promising archetype for Sandokos, while what little we know of Sadykos/Sydyk from Phoenician-derived sources is broadly suggestive of Kinyras/Kothar-like qualities. Finally, the Greco-Phoenician equation of Sadykos and Apollo may well explain why, for Hesykhios, it was not Sandokos but Apollo who partnered with Pharnake to produce Kinyras. [117]

Weighing everything up, the case for deriving Sandokos from Ṣdq does seem rather stronger than that for Šantaš. But the evidence is hardly decisive. Whichever interpretation is followed—assuming that one or the other is indeed correct—Sandokos’ presence in the solar lineage is intelligible, and Kinyras is endowed with solid Syro-Cilician associations. Ps.-Apollodoros thus presents a Kinyras who is structurally equivalent to both Aoios and Paphos—a Cilician immigrant to Cyprus who then founds Paphos.

The Egyptian Detour

Given the uniqueness of Oxyporos and Thymarete/Metharme, we are justified in asking whether the three further daughters in ps.-Apollodoros—Orsedike, Laogore, and Braisia—are equally integral to this version of Kinyras’ family, or merely tacked on from a separate myth or myths. The latter would seem likely enough but that our Dionysian scholion is the only other source that implicates Kinyras in Egyptian affairs. One must consider, therefore, whether the two Cypro-Egyptian scenarios are mutually illuminating. I believe they are.

Leaving aside the artificial and excessive recombinations of traditional mythemes, the tale’s ultimate resolution brings together the lines of Hyon and Kinyras—an alliance that can explain the seemingly abrupt transition from one house to the other in the Dionysian scholion. And with this, we return full circle to the Cypro-Egyptian weddings in ps.-Apollodoros. For the unique Thymarete/Metharme and Oxyporos make it seem inevitable that the three daughters of Kinyras who end their lives in Egypt are the very Cypriot brides whom the Egyptian brothers win in the cognate account of Donatus/Servius. It is striking that brides and brothers alike were all individually named. If this connection is right, it would follow that Kinyras was already established on the island when the Egyptians arrived. True, ps.-Apollodoros says that Kinyras’ daughters ended up in Egypt, whereas the action of Donatus/Servius seems to unfold mainly on Cyprus and in Syria. But the marriages of the Egyptian brothers themselves are barely addressed, apart from the daughter Erinoma; and the river where she lives as a peacock—Cisseum fluvium—was indeed probably in Egypt. [130] Admittedly, the synchronism of generations would be slightly awkward, with Adonis the great-uncle of Erinoma (Hyon + daughter of Kinyras > Kettes > Erinoma). But this is hardly insurmountable given the many far-fetched relationships and developments otherwise involved—not to mention Kinyras’ ripe old age (160 years in Anakreon). [131] I believe therefore that our three passages preserve traces of a single original account, independently epitomized and variously recombined with other material (for all three differ substantially in how they handle the most famous element—the death of Adonis). [132]

I would even propose a specific source: the Colonies of the Egyptians by the Hellenistic historian Istros (ca. 250–200), an associate of Kallimakhos and himself probably from Paphos. [133] That this work followed Egyptian ventures to Cyprus specifically is guaranteed by one of our few notices, which shows that Istros told how the island got its historical name:

The parallel syntax shows that Philostephanos offered one explanation, Istros another; and that it was Istros who made Kypros the daughter of Byblos and Aphrodite. This too fits the hypothesis, as Kypros is not one of Kinyras’ children in either the scholion or ps.-Apollodoros. If we are on the right track, several further inferences become possible. First, Hyon and his brothers would have come before the account of ‘Kypros’, since at the time of their colonial venture the island was called Kerastis/Kerastia. Whether this was ever more than a nickname or poetic epithet is doubtful; but it invited considerable Hellenistic speculation. [
135] That Istros progressed from Kerastis/Kerastia down to ‘Cyprus’ would also explain why Dionysios’ mention of Kýpros triggered the scholiastic notice about Kerastis/Kerastia—although the train of thought is not carried through, at least in the scholion’s present form. We must also assume that Kypros, daughter of Byblos and Aphrodite, somehow came to the island, perhaps through dynastic marriage; in any case, this must be added to the traditions linking Byblos and Cyprus (Chapter 19). This suggests, alongside Kettes/Kition, that Istros presented the island’s Phoenician element as overlaid on an older Egyptian stratum. One should recall that Adonis and Osiris were eventually identified at both Amathous and Byblos, [136] and that one mythographic stream traced Phoenician figures like Agenor back to Egypt. [137] Possibly, Istros was encouraged to develop this angle as a reflection of the Ptolemaic political circumstances under which he wrote. [138]

THEIOS AOIDOS: The Lyre-Player Group of Seals

franklin fig45

Figure 45. Lyrist and bird-metamorphosis. Modern impression of cylinder seal, Mardin (?), ca. 1800. London, BM 134306. Drawn from Li Castro and Scardina 2011, fig. 11.

Jumping forward a millennium, we come to the well-known Lyre-Player Group of Seals, which collectively offer, I believe, the clearest representation of a Divine Lyre in its several aspects. After establishing Cilicia as the seals’ most probable point-of-origin—this has not been universally recognized—we shall examine their find contexts and functions, and finally the iconographic system of the prominent specimens with lyre-players. These are inextricably allied to the remainder of the Group through further shared motifs, to be considered as needed.

The Group was first identified by C. Blinkenberg in 1931, who described fourteen specimens from Lindos (Rhodes) and another thirty-one from various collections; he rather acutely detected a blend of Cypriot and ‘late Hittite’ elements, and made several observations still generally accepted: the seals were the product of a single workshop operating over a limited period in the eighth century. [144] E. Porada named the Group in 1956 when discussing two examples from H. Goldman’s excavations of EIA Tarsus, along with fifty-two parallels, including further specimens from Syria, Phoenicia, Cyprus, and Greece. [145] The seals’ repertoire of motifs is very wide, but among the figural examples lyre-players, in various type-scenes, predominate (14.5 percent of the current total). Porada, specifying a later eighth-century date, defined the style more closely, appreciating its “assured economy of means,” with the “alternation of hatched and plain areas produc[ing] a pleasant variation” and “a noticeable vertical and horizontal accent in the composition.” [146] She argued for an origin on Rhodes, then apparently central to the distribution, and producing the greatest single concentration. She supported this with the valuable observation—still largely unappreciated—that the round-based lyres of the seals could be morphologically Aegean. [147] Having committed herself to the Rhodian hypothesis, Porada acknowledged in a postscript five further examples from Cilicia that had come to her attention, and suggested that these were made locally under Rhodian influence. [148]

We saw that the primary function of seals—as a form of identification—is attested for the Group by an impression from Tarsus. As Boardman pointed out, however, these were “very much a … bazaar product,” requiring perhaps ten minutes each to make. [164] Therefore, not much evidence for sphragistic use is to be expected from elite contexts. Probably from the start, these seals also served an amuletic function, as commonly in the ANE from earliest times. [165] This helps explain what may otherwise seem a dramatic contextual shift in Cyprus, Greece, and Italy. In the first two areas, our seals are usually found as votive offerings in coastal sanctuaries. [166] This distribution naturally coincides with the routes by which the seals themselves were carried; perhaps some were dedicated for safe voyages, again an apotropaic function. [167] The Italian and Etrurian finds show that the seals were indeed worn, since silver mountings are sometimes found. [168] Many specimens come from tombs, especially on Ischia where they normally appear in graves of the young. This context especially has suggested an amuletic use. [169] That is probable enough, though we may equally suspect a fad at work given the narrow period of manufacture, the downmarket buyership, and Pithekoussai’s position in the Euboean trade network; as Boardman noted, the entire collection could fit in a single sack. [170] The seals’ attractive designs were clearly popular, and this will have fueled production. [171] Note that, as with the Cypro-Phoenician symposium bowls, the seals’ round-based lyres will have presented a familiar-yet-exotic aspect to Greek customers. [172]

The iconography is certainly eclectic, and Boardman was reluctant to assign it much concrete religious meaning. [180] But as D. Collon reminds us of ANE seals generally, “what we too often tend to regard as a haphazard collection of filling motifs had the purpose of involving as many deities and beneficent powers as possible on behalf of the seal owner.” [181] The Lyre-Player Group’s dynamic range recalls the Cypro-Phoenician bowls—if one viewed them with a periscope. Indeed the bowls are a vital parallel. For their thematic material is equally wide-ranging, with scenes of daily life and the decorative treatment of elements from several traditions; but as we saw, this mélange does not negate the religious connotations of the frequent musical cult-scene, which persisted throughout the bowls’ lifecycle on Cyprus, part of their home territory (Chapter 11). The seals that feature lyre-players assume a rather similar backdrop. I have analyzed this subset into several Types, which I rank in order of the apparent importance of the Lyre-Player himself (see Table 2 and Figure 46). I say ‘apparent’, and now use a singular, capitalized ‘Lyre-Player’, because all Types, I propose, participate in a single iconographic subsystem that may be deduced from them collectively, with each Type taking its meaning from the others.

Type Motif Exemplars [182]
I Standing Winged Lyrist, Sacred Tree 2
IIa Standing Lyrist, Sacred Tree, Bird 3
IIb Standing Lyrist, Bird 12
IIc Standing Lyrist, Sphinx/Gryphon 3
IId Standing Lyrist, Bird, Devotee (?) 1
IIIa Enthroned Lyrist, Sacred Tree 5
IIIb Enthroned Lyrist, Drinking 2
IIIc Enthroned Lyrist, Table, Female Drummer 3
IIId Enthroned Lyrist, Female Drummer 8
IIIe Enthroned Lyrist, Fish 1
IIIf Enthroned Lyrist, Devotee (?) 1
IVa Standing Lyrist, Sacred Tree, Female Drummer 1
IVb Dancing Lyrist, Female Drummer, Ankh 1
IVc Standing Lyrist, Piper, Drummer Trio 5
Va Seated Figure, Standing Lyrist, Two Devotees 1
Vb Seated Figure, Trio, Devotees 5
Vc Seated Figure, Lyrist and Piper, Devotees 1

Table 2. Typology of Lyrists in the Lyre-Player Group of Seals.

franklin fig46

Figure 46. The Lyre-Player Group of Seals (subset with Lyrist). Drawn variously from images in Boardman and Buchner 1966; Boardman 1990; Rizzo 2007; SAM. For individual references, see 523n182.

This conclusion is corroborated by Type III, which presents a startling shift. For the throne is now occupied by the Lyre-Player himself, who is thus drawn into the human-divine borderland this seat entails. The mutual coherence of Types III and IV is shown by the pivotal and frequent IIId, where the Lyrist again faces a female frame-drummer, but is now the clear focus of her performance—a striking prediction of Pindar’s Cypriot choruses around Kinyras. That the seated Lyrist is one-and-the-same as the enthroned figure of Type V’s full cult-scenes is shown by the other variations in Type III, which implicate him in the banquet. He drinks through a straw from a large vessel (IIIb), an ancient Mesopotamian motif relatively scarce by now, but seen on the roughly contemporary Hubbard amphora (Figure 26 = 5.5p). [187] The feast- or offerings-table can appear between the Lyrist and the frame-drummer (IIIc), reiterating the connection of her performance with the larger rite, while maintaining the Lyre-Player’s twofold role as both singer and song-recipient. A puzzling variant shows the Lyrist with a fish (IIIe, image unavailable); I have noted its potential relevance to Kinyras the Mariner. [188] In a final permutation, the enthroned Lyrist adores the Sacred Tree (IIIa): whatever honors he himself receives are passed on through his own performance to this higher power. The same connection is illustrated by the lower register of seal BB 41c (Type IIIc), an explicit scene of goddess worship. [189] This dual focus is precisely what we saw in the first Kourion stand—an enthroned musician who mediates between his celebrants and a Sacred Tree standing for a Goddess. [190]

The oscillation between seated and standing lyre-players had already suggested to Porada the possibility that “in these scenes the lyre player is no ordinary mortal or even a priestly musician but the god Apollo.” [197] Buchner and Boardman were more cautious about the seated musician: “the other lyre-players seem not to be divinities, and there is no lyre-player god, Greek or eastern, with both a bird and a sphinx as familiars.” [198] Both statements were shaped by the search for the seals’ origin: ‘Apollo’ would support Porada’s Rhodian hypothesis, but undermine the Cilician/North Syrian analysis. True, Buchner and Boardman include the qualification “Greek or eastern” in their agnostic declaration. But what ‘eastern lyre-player god’ could they have named at all—with or without bird and sphinx? For that was before Kinnaru had risen again from Ugarit. The Type I seals change the picture completely, as Boardman himself later recognized:

But even this is surely too cautious. Boardman himself went on to compare the Cypriot cult-shrines we examined in Chapter 10, which he had previously connected with the Homeric expression “divine singer” (theîos aoidós). Then too he had puzzled over the identity of this eastern Lyre God, hoping his name might one day be discovered. [

There should now be little doubt that the seals’ winged Lyre-Player is closely akin to Kinnaru of Ugarit and Kinyras of Cyprus. By whatever name he was known to the artisan and his apprentices who cut the seals, these remarkable images provide a welcome and solid basis for the literary traditions of a Syro-Cilician ‘Kinyras’. They give us our clearest representation of a Divine Lyre. That the instrument is never shown alone is consistent with the vital role of performance in summoning the divine. But the lyre itself is effectively spotlighted as the common ground in all five Types—from the cultic musicians of V–IV, through the royal lyrists of III, and the increasingly numinous II and I. At the climactic epiphany, the Divine Lyre stands before his Goddess, serving her in song—embodying all cult performers and the lyrist-king himself. Here is the very essence of Kinyras.


[ back ] 1. See p462.

[ back ] 2. Lucian On the Syrian Goddess 35–37.

[ back ] 3. See Figure 5.1jj above; DCPIL:45 and fig. 1jj with references; SAM:118 no. 78.

[ back ] 4. See generally Pomponio 1978; RlA 9:16–29 (Seidl and Pomponio *Nabû A and B).

[ back ] 5. Dirven 1999:130–131; OSG:456–466; Bounni 1981:108; Erickson 2011:57–59.

[ back ] 6. Millar 1994:243.

[ back ] 7. Ps.-Meliton Apology 44.34–36, trans. after Cureton 1855.

[ back ] 8. Dirven 1999:130n17; OSG:456–457; Lightfoot 2004:99 and n174 (“The discovery of representations of Nebo in the form of Apollo Citharoedus has borne out Clermont-Ganneau’s conjecture that the god’s identification as Orpheus is most probably visual, and rests on the image of a god wielding a lyre”; cf. Clermont-Ganneau 1885–1907 3:212–216, “Orphée-Nébo à Mabboug et Apollon”). For the apparently incompatible description by Macrobius Saturnalia 1.17.66–68, see Bounni 1981:11 with references.

[ back ] 9. Baur and Rostovtzeff 1929–1952 7/8:266; Ingholt et al. 1955 no. 237, 301–302, 310; Du Mesnil du Buisson 1962:230, 285–287 and fig. 176, 566–567; Pomponio 1979:228; Bounni 1981 pl. II.2–3, III.1–2; Dirven 1999:128 and pl. VII.

[ back ] 10. See Ingholt et al. 1955:43 (‘Association of Nabu’); Milik 1972:159–160 (‘Nabu the Citharode’); Du Mesnil du Buisson 1962:286 (‘La lamentation de Nébô’), proposing a connection with Nabu’s laments for Marduk in Babylonia (“allusion à un rite des fêtes de Nîsan”), 567.

[ back ] 11. Cf. Pomponio 1978:226–228, 230.

[ back ] 12. Cf. Lightfoot 2004:76, 78–79, 98–105.

[ back ] 13. Chwolsohn 1856 1:780, 800–801.

[ back ] 14. See p402–406.

[ back ] 15. Greek Anthology 11.236 [Demodokos] = fr. 3 PLG/IEG: Πάντες μὲν Κίλικες κακοὶ ἀνέρες· ἐν δὲ Κίλιξιν / εἷς ἀγαθὸς Κινύρης, καὶ Κινύρης δὲ Κίλιξ.

[ back ] 16. See PLG 2:67; FGE:39–40. West points out that καὶ … δέ is post-Archaic usage.

[ back ] 17. Demodokos fr. 1–2, especially 2 (καὶ τόδε Δημοδόκου. Λέριοι κακοί· οὐχ ὃ μέν, ὃς δ’ οὔ· / πάντες, πλὴν Προκλέους—καὶ Προκλέης Λέριος).

[ back ] 18. See p355–356 and n113.

[ back ] 19. See p340–341.

[ back ] 20. Dionysios the Periegete 508–509: Κύπρος … ἐπήρατος αἶα Διωναίης Ἀφροδίτης. The v.l. ἄστυ (for αἶα), appearing in the scholia, Eustathios’ commentary, and many MSS, can be applied to islands in epic diction; αἶα is thus generally favored as difficilor lectio (retained by Lightfoot 2014). In any case, αὐτήν shows that the scholiast’s comments apply to the whole island. But note that Ovid (Metamorphoses 10.220–237) locates his Cerastae at Amathous specifically (see below).

[ back ] 21. Κεραστία is usual (see p516 below), but for Κεραστίς cf. Nonnos Dionysiaka 5.614, 13.441, 29.372. For the meaning, see p135.

[ back ] 22. For this sense of ἄπαις, cf. LSJ s.v. For its significance in the present myth, see below. Note that both ‘Hyon’ and ‘Kettes’ are emendations (of υἱός and Kέλτης, respectively) based on the parallel in Servius Auctus on Vergil Eclogues 10.18: see further below.

[ back ] 23. Σ Dionysios the Periegete 509 (GGM 2:450) = FGH 758 F 3a: Κεραστὶν αὐτὴν καλουμένην ᾤκισεν Ὕων Αἰγύπτιος, οὗ υἱὸς Κέττης ἄπαις τελευτᾷ. Κέφαλος δὲ ὁ Πανδίονος καὶ Ἔρσης εἰς τὴν Ἀσίαν οἰκῶν ἔσχε παῖδας Ἀῷον καὶ Πάφον, ὃς διαβὰς εἰς αὐτὴν πόλιν κτίζει Πάφον, οὗ υἱὸς Κινύρας προσέσχε τὴν νῆσον καὶ Πυγμαλίων Φοίνιξ, οὗ θυγατέρα Θυμαρέτην γαμεῖ Κινύρας, καὶ ποιεῖ Ὀξύπορον καὶ Ἄδωνιν, ὃν ὑπὸ συὸς ἀποθανόντα λέγειν ἔπεισεν ὡς ἥρπασται ὑπὸ Ἀφροδίτης, καὶ πέμψας ἔθαψεν ἐν Βύβλῳ τῆς Φοινίκης παρὰ ποταμὸν, ὃς Ἄδωνις καλεῖται.

[ back ] 24. But the variant was itself traditional: a fifth-century vase by Douris shows Eos pursuing Kephalos as Pandion stands by (Getty Museum 84.AE.569, noted by Gantz 1993 1:238).

[ back ] 25. Σ Pindar Pythian 2.28: υἱὸς δὲ Εὐρυμέδοντος καὶ Παφίας νύμφης. Remember that ‘Paphia’ is a title of the goddess herself.

[ back ] 26. See p333.

[ back ] 27. Stephanos of Byzantium s.v. Εὐρυμέδων· ποταμὸς Παμφυλίας καὶ τόπος κατὰ Ταρσόν. Cf. Engel 1841 2:124; Baurain 1980a:280n13.

[ back ] 28. Ovid Metamorphoses 10.297–298: see comments of Bömer 1969–1986 ad loc. The issue hinges on de quo versus de qua in 297, and hac in 298.

[ back ] 29. Σ Pindar Pythian 2.27a: ἦν δὲ οὗτος Ἀπόλλωνος υἱὸς, ἢ Πάφου κατὰ ἐνίους.

[ back ] 30. Pap.Oxy. 2688 lines 4–13, with Π]άφου τοῦ μητροπολείτ[ου υἱός in 6, where υἱός (‘son’), if correct, will refer to Kinyras (see below). The unusual sense of μητροπολείτης here is clarified by the intercolumnar Σ to Pap.Oxy. 3000: ἡ νῆσος Κύπρος, ἡ μητρόπολις Πάφος, lines 1–3 (see note of Parsons/Lloyd-Jones ad loc.; for this text, see further below). The editor tentatively suggests Aristotle’s Constitution of the Cypriots as a source for the story (Aristotle fr. 526–527 Rose). For Paphos = Cyprus, Servius/Servius Auctus on Vergil Georgics 2.64 (Papho insula); for this usage of Roman provincial capitals, OCD s.v. mētropolis (b).

[ back ] 31. Bion Lament for Adonis 65–66; Servius Auctus on Vergil Eclogues 10.18.

[ back ] 32. See Chantraine 1968 s.v. ἕως; Lightfoot 1999:184.

[ back ] 33. Etymologicum Genuinum s.v. Ἀῷος and Etymologicum Magnum s.v. Ἀῶος (sic), which may be amalgamated here after Lightfoot 1999:118 (Parthenios fr. 29, q.v. for textual variants; cf. SH 641): Ἀῷος· Ποταμὸς τῆς Κύπρου. Ἀῷος γὰρ ὁ Ἄδωνις ὠνομάζετο, καὶ ἀπ’ αὐτοῦ οἱ Κύπρου βασιλεύσαντες. Ζωΐλος δὲ ὁ Κεδρασεὺς (v. infra n48) καὶ αὐτὸν ἀπὸ τῆς ἑαυτοῦ μητρὸς κληθῆναι· τὴν γὰρ Θείαντος θυγατέρα οὐ Σμύρναν ἀλλ’ Ἀῷαν καλεῖσθαι (v.l. καλοῦσι). Φιλέας δὲ πρῶτον βασιλέα Ἀῷον, Ἠοῦς ὄντα καὶ Κεφάλου, ἀφ’ οὗ καὶ ὄρος τι ὠνομάσθη Ἀώϊον· ἐξ οὗ βʹ ποταμῶν φερομένων, Σε<τ>ράχου καὶ Ἀπλιέως, τὸν ἕνα τούτων ὁ Παρθένιος Ἀῷον κέκληκεν ἢ διὰ τὸ πρὸς τὴν ἠῶ τετραμμένην ἔχειν τὴν ῥύσιν, καθώς φησιν ὁ Παρθένιος· Κωρυκίων σεύμενος ἐξ ὀρέων, ἀνατολικῶν ὄντων· δύναται δὲ οὕτως καλεῖσθαι, καθ’ ὃ ἡ Κιλικία Ἀῷα πάλαι ὠνομάζετο.

[ back ] 34. For Phileas, see Gisinger in RE 19 (1938), 2133–2136 (6).

[ back ] 35. Parthenios fr. 29 Lightfoot.

[ back ] 36. Nonnos Dionysiaka 13.456–460. For sources and discussion, including the ‘Satrachus’ as it resurfaced in Catullus and probably Cinna (cf. p286n38 above), see Meineke 1843:279–282; Hicks 1891:240–242; Leigh 1994; Lightfoot 1999:181–185.

[ back ] 37. Hicks 1891:240–242 no. 24.2–3: ἐν γαίης βένθεσιν … / … ὅθ’ Ἀῶος (sic) ἀφενγέσι ῥεύμασι φεύγει.

[ back ] 38. Cf. p465.

[ back ] 39. For Adonis and Mount Kasios, see p465, 514.

[ back ] 40. Beckman 2002b:18.

[ back ] 41. For the spot, and ancient references to ‘baths’ of the goddess, see Kypris:72–73.

[ back ] 42. Communication, July 25–26, 2014. He continues: “The whole thing excited my fantasy … I still remember a dream I saw when I was sixteen … entering a kind of a cave … wandering in an underground world by car where rivers were running everywhere. My dad who was driving told me that all these rivers come from Turkey.” The conversation took place in Psimolophou, near Nicosia.

[ back ] 43. HC:7–8.

[ back ] 44. Cf. Lightfoot 1999:183.

[ back ] 45. Stephanos of Byzantium s.v. Μάριον.

[ back ] 46. Hesykhios s.v. Ἀβώβας· ὁ Ἄδωνις ὑπὸ Περγαίων. For Gauas, cf. p467n58. See further Meineke 1843:281–282 (comparing Γαύας and Aeolic αὔως, Boeotian ἄας); RΕ 1 (1894), 2656–2657 s.v. Ao (Dümmler); Lightfoot 1999:184.

[ back ] 47. Hesykhios s.v. Ἠοίην: τὸν Ἄδωνιν, Πανύασις (fr. 25 Kinkel, Matthews = fr. 22c EGF, PEG, to be connected with fr. 22ab EGF = fr. 27 PEG = [Apollodoros] Library 3.14.4). For the probable Byblian setting, cf. p467.

[ back ] 48. For this emendation of Κεδρασεύς (n33 above), see RE 10A (1972), 714–715 (13); FGH 758 F 7.

[ back ] 49. See n33. The reading καλεῖσθαι, which I prefer, makes this part of Zoïlos’ own comments, and lets us restrict Theias to Byblos, where all other sources place him (see p466–468). The variant καλοῦσι (‘they call’) could be a gloss by the etymologist himself, but it is then unclear just who called Smyrna this; the Cypriots presumably (Meineke 1843:279), but this raises problems for Theias. Cinna may have alluded to Smyrna as Aoia: te matutinus flentem conspexit Eous / et flentem paulo vidit post Hesperus idem (Servius Auctus on Vergil Georgics 1.288 = Cinna fr. 6 Courtney FLP).

[ back ] 50. Hesykhios s.v. ἀοῖα; cf. FGH 758 F 9.

[ back ] 51. See p314.

[ back ] 52. See n33.

[ back ] 53. Hesykhios s.v. Ἄῳοι· … Κίλικες ἀπὸ Ἀῴου τοῦ Κεφάλου <ἢ> τοῦ παραρέοντος ποταμοῦ (text: Meineke 1843:281).

[ back ] 54. Isidore Origines 15.1.48: Aeos Typhonis filius Paphum, with an obvious emendation (Lightfoot 1999:184).

[ back ] 55. Boccaccio Genealogy of the Pagan Gods 4.23.

[ back ] 56. Eustathios on Homer Iliad 2.780–785: noted by Lightfoot 1999:182.

[ back ] 57. Phileas fr. 7–12 Gisinger (see n34).

[ back ] 58. See ap. crit. to GGM 2:450 (reading of I, in which Κεραστὶν αὐτὴν καλουμένην is followed by εἰς ἣν Αἰὸς (sic) ὁ υἱὸς Αἰγυπτίου ᾤκησεν. This corruption was doubtless stimulated by Aoios in line 35; but its specific form (εἰς ἥν) implies some definite idea about the deeds of ‘Αἰός’; emendation to Ἀῷος is again easy, but note the form’s potential relevance to Isidore, whose Aeos should go back ultimately to a (the same?) corrupt Greek text.

[ back ] 59. Muncker corrected R’s Θαινάκη to Φαρνάκη from Suda s.v. καταγηρᾶσαι (Κινύρας δέ, ἀπόγονος Φαρνάκης, βασιλεὺς Κυπρίων); this also permits emendation of Hesykhios s.v. Κινύρας (Φαρνά?) and Appendix Proverbiorum 4.68 (Φάρμη?). See Roscher Lex. s.v. Pharnake (Höfer); RE 19 (1938) s.v. Pharnake (Kroll). The elaborate dynastic inferences of Engel 1841 2:123 were thereby negated.

[ back ] 60. [Apollodoros] Library 3.14.3 (Wagner): Ἕρσης δὲ καὶ Ἑρμοῦ Κέφαλος, οὗ ἐρασθεῖσα Ἠὼς ἥρπασε καὶ μιγεῖσα ἐν Συρίᾳ παῖδα ἐγέννησε Τιθωνόν, οὗ παῖς ἐγένετο Φαέθων, τούτου δὲ Ἀστύνοος, τοῦ δὲ Σάνδοκος, ὃς ἐκ Συρίας ἐλθὼν εἰς Κιλικίαν, πόλιν ἔκτισε Κελένδεριν, καὶ γήμας Φαρνάκην (Muncker [v. supra]: Θαινάκην R) τὴν Μεγασσάρου τοῦ Ὑριέων (Hercher [v. infra]: τοῦ Συρίων R) βασιλέως ἐγέννησε Κινύραν. οὗτος ἐν Κύπρῳ, παραγενόμενος σὺν λαῷ, ἔκτισε Πάφον, γήμας δὲ ἐκεῖ Μεθάρμην, κόρην Πυγμαλίωνος Κυπρίων βασιλέως, Ὀξύπορον ἐγέννησε καὶ Ἄδωνιν, πρὸς δὲ τούτοις θυγατέρας Ὀρσεδίκην <καὶ> Λαογόρην καὶ Βραισίαν. αὗται δὲ διὰ μῆνιν Ἀφροδίτης ἀλλοτρίοις ἀνδράσι συνευναζόμεναι τὸν βίον ἐν Αἰγύπτῳ μετήλλαξαν. Ἄδωνις δὲ ἔτι παῖς ὢν Ἀρτέμιδος χόλῳ πληγεὶς ἐν θήρᾳ ὑπὸ συὸς ἀπέθανεν. The variants Σάνδακος, Kελλένδεριν, Μεγεσσάρου, Θανάκην, and τῶν Συρίων βασιλέα, which Wagner reported in his ap. crit., lost any probative value after Diller 1935, refining Wagner 1894:XIII, showed that all extant MSS depend on R (Par. 2722).

[ back ] 61. Pap.Oxy. 3000 (ed. P. J. Parsons); SH 397.

[ back ] 62. Intercolumnar Σ lines 1–3, 6–8, 13–17, with Parson’s notes ad loc.; SH 397 with notes.

[ back ] 63. For this mythographic device, see Cameron 2004:238–249.

[ back ] 64. Hesiod Theogony 986–991 (Eos and Kephalos, Aphrodite and Phaethon); Euripides Hippolytos 454–455 (Eos and Kephalos). For Kephalos, see further sources in Gantz 1993 1:36, 238.

[ back ] 65. See van der Sluijs 2008, focusing on Phaethon and Aphrodite (quotation, 244).

[ back ] 66. James and van der Sluijs 2012; see above p103. This interpretation can coexist with the I-E aspects of Phaethon exposed by Nagy 1973.

[ back ] 67. Herodotos 7.90: οἱ μὲν ἀπὸ Σαλαμῖνος καὶ Ἀθηνέων, οἱ δὲ ἀπὸ Ἀρκαδίης, οἱ δὲ ἀπὸ Κύθνου, οἱ δὲ ἀπὸ Φοινίκης, οἱ δὲ ἀπὸ Αἰθιοπίης, ὡς αὐτοὶ Κύπριοι λέγουσι. It is not certain how far all of these assertions should be attributed to Cypriot tradition, despite the historian’s appeal to “the Cypriots themselves.” The Athenian link at least was a relatively recent fiction (see p340–341). These Cypro-Aithiopians were linked with ps.-Apollodoros already by Heyne 1803:324; Movers 1841–1856 1:251. A different approach is taken by Petit 1998 (cf. Petit 1999, 115–116), who looks to Amathous’ fifth-century political alignment with Persia, and myths that connect Perseus to ‘Aithiopia’ and make him an eponym of Persia. Personally I suspect that the whole idea originates with a fifth-century logographic interpretation of Homer Odyssey 4.83–84, where Menelaos’ wanderings took him to Κύπρον Φοινίκην τε καὶ Αἰγυπτίους ἐπαληθείς, / Αἰθίοπάς θ’ ἱκόμην καὶ Σιδονίους καὶ Ἐρεμβούς. Cypro-Aithiopians would be generated by correlating the three countries of the first verse with the three peoples of the second. A likely culprit is Hellanikos, on whom Herodotos sometimes drew (Franklin 2012:7n20, 20–22) and who composed a Kypriaka (FGH 4 F 57, 756 F 1); this would explain why he located the much-debated Eremboi in Egypt (4 F 154a).

[ back ] 68. See p288.

[ back ] 69. Heyne 1803:324 left him in silence. The curious speculations of Engel 1841 2:133 (q.v.) were not taken up by Stoll in Roscher Lex. s.v., who merely noted the passage.

[ back ] 70. CS 2 no. 131 (“I am Hammurabi, king of justice, to whom the god Shamash has granted the truth,” trans. Roth); also 107A; RIME 4 3.6.2, 3.6.12, etc. See Beckman 2003:18. Cf. EFH:20 for comparison with Greek Helios.

[ back ] 71. Beckman 2003.

[ back ] 72. See p21 and Heimpel, “Balang-gods,” 53 III 153–158.

[ back ] 73. See p495.

[ back ] 74. Compare the varying locations connected with Memnon (Egypt, Syria, Susa).

[ back ] 75. For Kelenderis, see RE 11 (1922), 138 (2) (Ruge). Brown 1965:205n3 suggested a connection between Sandokos and the Baal Krntryš who is mentioned in the Karatepe inscriptions as having been settled in Azatiwatas’ new foundation (KAI 26 A.II.19–20, III.2–3, C.IV.20; Krntryš as Kelenderis is still supported by DDUPP:83). The corresponding Luwian text gives the thunder-god Tarhunzas (see Hawkins 2000 ad loc.).

[ back ] 76. Early editors (e.g. van Meurs 1675 2:107; Westermann 1843), looking to descriptions of Kinyras as ‘King of Assyria’ (Hyginus Fabulae 58 etc.), read here γήμας Φαρνάκην τὴν Μεγασσάρου τὸν Συρίων βασιλέα ἐγέννησε Κινύραν vel sim. Hercher 1851:573 argued that the obscure Megassares called for further qualification, and his proposal accords well with the archetypal reading of R (τοῦ Συρίων βασιλέως). Because P (containing Συρέων, to which Hercher appealed) is now an invalid textual witness (see n60), one might equally entertain Ἰσαύρων for Συρίων (cf. e.g. Strabo 14.5.1), yielding a similar geographical connection.

[ back ] 77. See Jasink 2001:603–605; Jasink forthcoming. For the sources relating to trade with Ugarit, see Beal 1992:66n6 and 7 (but identifying Ura with Kelenderis).

[ back ] 78. Movers 1841–1856 1:77, 240–241 suggested a connection with Magos, father of Misor and Sydyk in Philo of Byblos (see below), and thence a Semitic etymology as ‘priest of fire’; approved by Rochette 1848:216–217n3. Many aspects of Movers’ interpretation of the larger passage are now outdated; I cannot judge this particular as yet.

[ back ] 79. Movers 1841–1856 2/2:237 and n85; Tuplin 1996:75 and n179. For the site, see RE 1 (1894), 2663–2664 (Benzinger).

[ back ] 80. For this interpretation of Sandokos, see Movers 1841–1856 1:240; Meyer 1877:737; Höfer in Roscher Lex., s.v. Sandas (p324); Gjerstad 1948, 429. For an up-to-date bibliography and survey of the known and possible iconography of Sandas, see LIMC s.v. Sandas (Augé); also NP s.v. Sandon. Most of the classical sources were collected by Höfer in Roscher Lex. s.v. Sandas.

[ back ] 81. Ammianus Marcellinus 14.8.3: Tarsus … hanc condidisse Perseus memoratur … uel certe ex †Aethio [v.l. Aechio] profectus Sandan quidam nomine uir opulentus et nobilis.

[ back ] 82. See Roscher Lex. s.v, Sandas:320 (B), and below n93. Even if the emendation is on the right lines, one could still think of an Anatolian location, cf. [Zonaras] Lexicon s.v. Αἰθιόπιον … χωρίον Λυδίας.

[ back ] 83. Classical sources give some evidence of cult presence in Syria/Phoenicia, and he may have had Kubaba, the state god of Karkemish, as a consort in the Kizzuwatnan period. Some have held that he features as a theophoric element in some Persian PNs: see Roscher Lex. s.v. Sandas p329. Kubaba: NP s.v. Sandon:954 (Kammenhuber 1990:191 is agnostic for BA).

[ back ] 84. See p251–253.

[ back ] 85. Stephanos of Byzantium s.v. Ἄδανα … ἔστι δὲ ὁ Ἄδανος Γῆς καὶ Οὐρανοῦ παῖς, καὶ Ὄστασος καὶ Σάνδης καὶ Κρόνος καὶ Ῥέα καὶ Ἰαπετὸς καὶ Ὄλυμβρος.

[ back ] 86. Kammenhuber 1990:191.

[ back ] 87. Sources in Kammenhuber 1990:191–193.

[ back ] 88. The text is KUB 9.31. See Schwartz 1938, whose composite, continuous lineation I follow (the quoted prescription is lines 102–103); more recent bibliography cited by Kammenhuber 1990:192.

[ back ] 89. His name is spelled out as dša-an-ta-aš LUGAL- at 84; ‘Sun of Heaven’ at 63 and 92; dAMAR.UD at 34, 36, and 55.

[ back ] 90. Lines 64, 71–74, 82–83, 91–93, 95.

[ back ] 91. Kammenhuber 1990:192.

[ back ] 92. Schwartz 1938:349; NP s.v. Sandon.

[ back ] 93. Pyre-festival at Tarsus: Dio Chrysostomus 33.47 (under name of Herakles); at Hierapolis (unnamed): Lucian On the Syrian Goddess 49, cf. OSG ad loc. An agrarian function has often been supported by the perhaps seventh-century rock relief at Ivriz (on the Taurus), showing a god with grain and grapes (NP s.v. Sandon); but the identity of this deity is disputed: LIMC s.v. Sandas (p. 664).

[ back ] 94. Brown 1965:205n3; James and van der Sluijs 2012:247.

[ back ] 95. The passage is Philo of Byblos FGH 790 F 2 (13): Μισὼρ καὶ Συδύκ, τουτέστιν εὔλυτον καὶ δίκαιον.

[ back ] 96. For Philo’s problematic definition of Μισώρ as εὔλυτον (‘easily solved’), see Baumgarten 1981:175 (“circuitous at best”); DDUPP:113 (“Philon se méprenne sur le sens précis”).

[ back ] 97. RS 24.271 = KTU/CAT 1.123 (Virolleaud 1968:584–586 no. 10) = RCU no. 47 (“A Prayer for Well-Being”): ṣdq mšr are invoked in line 14 (vocalized ṣidqu mêšaru by Pardee).

[ back ] 98. See examples in DDUPP:112–113; Liverani 1971:58, 63 (Amorite, Ugaritic). For Ṣdqmlk of Lapethos, Masson and Sznycer 1972:98–99 (no. 111).

[ back ] 99. See discussion and material in Liverani 1971:55–57; DDUPP:112–114.

[ back ] 100. KAI 4.6–7; also 10.8–9 (Yehawmilk, Byblos, Persian era).

[ back ] 101. See sources in Liverani 1971:66–70; Baumgarten 1981:175n193; DDUPP:113 and n348.

[ back ] 102. For the correspondence of Ṣdq Mšr and Misharum/Kittum, see Liverani 1971:58–62; Baumgarten 1981:176 (noting Malachi 4:2, followed by James and van der Sluijs 2012:247); DDUPP:113.

[ back ] 103. See p445–452.

[ back ] 104. Cf. Liverani 1971:70–71; Baumgarten 1981:177.

[ back ] 105. Liverani 1971:71; Baumgarten 1981:176; DDUPP:114.

[ back ] 106. Philo of Byblos FGH 790 F 2: πρῶτόν τε πάντων ἀνθρώπων πλεῦσαι (11) and πρῶτοι πλοῖον εὗρον (14).

[ back ] 107. Philo of Byblos FGH 790 F 2 (13).

[ back ] 108. Philo of Byblos FGH 790 F 2 (25). For Asklepios’ incantations, Pindar Pythian 3.47–53; cf. Watkins 1995:537–539 (from an Indo-European perspective).

[ back ] 109. Philo of Byblos FGH 790 F 2 (38): ταῦτα δὲ (φησί) πρῶτοι πάντων ὑπεμνηματίσαντο οἱ ἑπτὰ Sυδύκου (Mras: Συδὲκ BO, Σύδου A) παῖδες Κάβειροι καὶ ὁ ὄγδοος αὐτῶν ἀδελφὸς Ἀσκληπιός.

[ back ] 110. For Khousarthis, see p477.

[ back ] 111. Damaskios Life of Isidore fr. 348 Zintzen.

[ back ] 112. Pausanias 7.23.7–8.

[ back ] 113. See Baumgarten 1981:228–231.

[ back ] 114. James and van der Sluijs 2012:247 and n15 with K. Jongeling.

[ back ] 115. [Apollodoros] Library 3.9.1 (Laodike), 3.14.3 (Orsedike). Eunoe is a possible correction at Σ Lykophron Alexandra 450: see p354n93.

[ back ] 116. For ṣdq at Karatepe, KAI 26 A.I.12–13. See further Lipiński 2004:139–140 for the judicial use of Phoenician, and 109–144 passim for Phoenician cultural influence in southern Anatolia generally.

[ back ] 117. Hesykhios s.v. Κινύρας· Ἀπόλλωνος καὶ Φαρνάκης παῖς, βασιλεὺς Κυπρίων.

[ back ] 118. The variant Oxyparos is to be rejected (see FGH 758 F 3a). For Oxyporos, cf. above p333.

[ back ] 119. Note the gloss in Apollonios Sophistes Homeric Lexicon s.v. θυμαρέα· θυμάρεστον, καὶ θυμῆρες τὸ ἀρέσκον τῇ ψυχῇ. But an etymology of Metharme from Gk. √ar– (‘fit, join’ > ‘tune’) is perhaps not impossible, and this too could provide an appropriate musical nuance (cf. ἁρμή, μεθαρμογή, etc.). Finally, given the juxtaposition of Kinnaru and the Divine Censer at Ugarit, one might wonder whether ‘Thymarete’ conceals some connection with words like thymiáō (‘burn incense’) and thymiatḗrion (‘censer’). The child Adonis might then correspond to the divinized kings, who adjoin Kinnaru and Censer in the pantheon texts (see p5, 103, 121, 124, 283).

[ back ] 120. Servius Auctus on Vergil Eclogues 10.18. For the relationship of Servius to Donatus, see Cameron 2004:188.

[ back ] 121. For a detailed discussion, but from another angle, see Fontenrose 1981:170–172.

[ back ] 122. Thilo’s text (for the whole episode) is: est etiam alter ordo huius fabulae: ex Aegypto †Epiuotasterius et Yon fratres ad insulam Cyprum profecti sunt atque ibi sortiti uxores. ex quorum genere Celes procreatus est, qui habuit Erinomam filiam. haec cum esset nimiae castitatis et hoc a Minerva et Diana diligeretur, Veneri esse coepit invisa. quae cum puellae castitati insidiaretur, in amorem eius inpulit Iovem. quem dolum postquam Iuno animadvertit, ut fraudem fraude superaret, petit a Venere, ut in amorem puellae Adonem inflammaret. quem posteaquam nulla fraude sollicitare in eius amorem potuit, obiectis quibusdam nebulis, ipsum Adonem in penetrale virginis perduxit. ita pudicitia puella per vim et fraudem caruit. sed hanc Diana miserata circa Cisseum fluvium in pavonem mutavit. Adonis vero ubi cognovit se amatam Iovis vitiasse, metuens profugit in montis Casii silvas ibique inmixtus agrestibus versabatur. quem dolo Mercurii monte deductum cum aper, quem fabulae Martem loquuntur, vehementer urgeret et ab Adone vinceretur, repente fulmen Iuppiter iecit et Adonem morti dedit: sed cum Venus illusum sibi et mortem amati Adonis saepe quereretur, Mercurius miseratus imaginem Adonis, ut vivere crederetur, ad suos reduci fecit; Iuno autem a Iove petiit, ut Adonis in lucis patriis aevum degeret. tum Diana puellae Erinomae formam pristinam reddidit, quae tamen ex Adone Taleum filium procreavit et cum viro permansit.

[ back ] 123. Movers 1841–1856 2/2:204 and n3; ap. crit. to GGM 2:450.

[ back ] 124. A different eponym is found in Eustathios on Homer Iliad 10.409: πόλις Κίτιον, κληθεῖσα οὕτω, φασίν, ἀπὸ Κιτίου γυναικός τινος. For –tt-, cf. the legendary Cypriot princess Kittia (Pausanias of Damascus FHG 4:469 fr. 4; HC:32; and above p440n107), and Kittim son of Javan in the Table of Nations (Genesis 10:3–4); further oscillations noted by Movers 1841–1856 2/2:204n3.

[ back ] 125. Movers 1841–1856 2/2:204n3 and GGM 2:450 suggest Epivios et Asterius et Yon; the third term of Thilo’s Ephialtes Asterius Echion vel Aethion must be ignored. Note that an Asterias or Asteria was the child of Teukros and Kinyras’ daughter Eue/Eune/Eunoe: see p354n93.

[ back ] 126. Movers 1841–1856 2/2:204–205 (connecting Asterius with Astarte).

[ back ] 127. Gen. 10:3–4. ‘Hyon’ would therefore be, effectively, ‘Ionians’, the standard ANE term for ‘Greek’ (< Ἴωνες < Ἰάϝονες; see e.g. Brinkman 1989). While υ for ι is not problematic in a Hellenistic or later source, one would wonder why the more obvious Ἴων was not exploited. Still, Movers may be right that ‘Hyon’ was drawn from a collateral NE form (though not necessarily Heb. ‘Javan’); cf. e.g. Hiyawa for Ahhiyawa at Karatepe (see p251–252). But note too that a ‘Hyon’ is found as a variant for Hyas in Hyginus Fabulae 248, a list of Adonis-like figures who died of boar wounds: Roscher Lex. s.v. (Crusius).

[ back ] 128. See p350–359, 365–366.

[ back ] 129. One might think here of Karageorghis’ view that Kition was abandoned ca. 1000–850, except that Smith 2009 has now shown continuous habitation. But one could still look to the interruption of relations with Egypt in the EIA, as reflected for instance in the Tale of Wen-Amun. For the abundance of Egyptian faience vessels at LBA Kition, see Smith 2009:9 with references.

[ back ] 130. A Kisseus was one of Aigyptos’ sons by the naiad Kaliadne ([Apollodoros] Library 2.1.5), Aigyptos itself being a Homeric name for the Nile (Odyssey 4.477, 581, 14.258, 17.427; cf. Arrian Anabasis of Alexander 5.6.5).

[ back ] 131. So Anakreon: see p329.

[ back ] 132. Mythological constructions were often loosely combined in the Hellenistic handbook tradition, and thence by Donatus/Servius and other scholiasts: see generally Cameron 2004.

[ back ] 133. For his Paphian origin, asserted by his contemporary the biographer Hermippos and the most plausible of those proposed, see Suda s.v. Ἴστρος; OCD s.v. Ister.

[ back ] 134. Constantine Porphyrogenitos On the Themes 1.15 = Philostephanos FHG 3:30 fr. 11 = Istros FGH 334 F 45: Κύπρος ἐκλήθη δὲ ἀπὸ Κύπρου τῆς θυγατρὸς Κινύρου, ἢ τῆς Βύβλου καὶ Ἀφροδίτης, ὡς Φιλοστέφανος ἐν τῷ Περὶ νήσων καὶ Ἴστρος ἐν Ἀποικίαις Αἰγυπτίων ἱστόρησαν; also found in Herodian De prosodia catholica 204.4 Lentz; Stephanos of Byzantium s.v. Κύπρος. Note also Eustathios on Dionysios the Periegete 912 for an attempt to explain “Byblos” as “some general.”

[ back ] 135. Lykophron (Alexandra 447) implies that Cyprus was so called before the Trojan War and Greek immigration. According to a scholion here, Xenagoras (FGH 240 F 26) referred Κεραστία to the island’s many ἐξοχαί—headlands (HC:13) or mountain peaks. Androkles (= Menandros of Ephesus? Cf. p337n3) is also cited for the theory that horned-men once inhabited the island (FGH 751 F 1). This idea clearly informs Ovid’s Cerastae, transformed into bulls for sacrificing human guests on the altar of Zeus at Amathous (Metamorphoses 10.220–237). Modern scholars have suggested a connection with the horned-god statuettes from Enkomi, or bull-masked priest figurines from Amathous itself (Kypris:80). Cyprus as Kerastia is also mentioned by Eustathios on Lykophron Alexandra 447; Pliny Natural History 5.31.35; Stephanos of Byzantium and Etymologicum Magnum s.v. Κύπρος, Σφήκεια. See further Engel 1841 1:18–20.

[ back ] 136. See above, p315–316. Parthenios fr. 42 and Lucian On the Syrian Goddess 7, with Lightfoot’s comments on both; Stephanos of Byzantium s.v. Ἀμαθοῦς (cf. p316n214 above) and Βύβλος.

[ back ] 137. [Apollodoros] Library 2.1.4.

[ back ] 138. Cf. Engel 1841 1:7.

[ back ] 139. See p7, 113, 131, 380–381, 444.

[ back ] 140. The seals are 1) Adana Archaeology Museum 35.999 (Tarsus): Porada 1956:400, fig. 35; cf. 235, 394; 2) British Museum 134306 (probably from Mardin): Rimmer 1969:28 and pl. VIIIa; Collon 1987:43 no. 149. Both seals well discussed/illustrated by Li Castro and Scardina 2011:208–211, fig. 11–12.

[ back ] 141. Goldman 1935:537–538; Porada 1956:204.

[ back ] 142. See p71–72, 159–161 .

[ back ] 143. Li Castro and Scardina 2011:209 (with 210, fig. 11): “a row of standing birds that suddenly changes into the head of the sitting creature … the head and neck of a bird coming out from beyond the yoke and recalling the outline of the instrument’s upper arm.”

[ back ] 144. Blinkenberg 1931 1 col. 161–168 (“une branche de l’art hittite tardif qui a subi des influence chypriotes,” 168), 172–173, 2 pl. 18 no. 521–534 and A–L. Blinkenberg’s basic propositions (1 col. 165) have been followed by Buchner and Boardman 1966:58; Boardman 1990:10; Rizzo 2007:40.

[ back ] 145. Porada 1956.

[ back ] 146. Porada 1956:186.

[ back ] 147. Porada 1956:200–204. The idea was mentioned but trivialized by Buchner and Boardman 1966:50.

[ back ] 148. Porada 1956:206n66.

[ back ] 149. Buchner and Boardman 1966. The Pithekoussai examples were fully published in Buchner and Ridgway 1993, who added three new examples (lacking lyre-players).

[ back ] 150. Cf. Boardman in Muscarella 1981:166 (“probably Cilicia”).

[ back ] 151. Buchner and Boardman 1966:60–62. Euboean routes: Boardman 1980.

[ back ] 152. Boardman 1990, especially 10–11.

[ back ] 153. Cf. also Buchner and Boardman 1966:42.

[ back ] 154. Porada 1956:186; Buchner and Boardman 1966:61; Boardman 1990:10; Scardina 2010:69.

[ back ] 155. Poncy et al. 2001:11.

[ back ] 156. See above, p252–253. For this point, Franklin 2006a:45; Franklin forthcoming (as from 2009); Scardina 2010:70.

[ back ] 157. Rizzo 2007, following the preliminary description of Martelli 1988.

[ back ] 158. Porada 1956:195–196; Buchner and Boardman 1966:60; Boardman 1990:11.

[ back ] 159. Rizzo 2007:40, following Winter 1995:267n39.

[ back ] 160. Scardina 2010:70; so already Boardman 1990:11. Cf. above, p199n67, 202n90, 252n50.

[ back ] 161. Soloi: Strabo 14.5.8. Bing 1971:103–104 plausibly argued for Lindians at Tarsus on the basis of Eusebios’ account (Schoene 1967 1:35) of Sennacherib building a temple of ‘Athenians’ (i.e. of Athena) there soon after its capture/destruction in 696, and the importance of Athena’s cult at Lindos.

[ back ] 162. SAM no. 23a–c, f; Rizzo 2008–2009; Cerchiai and Nava 2008–2009 (but see n183 below).

[ back ] 163. Buchner and Boardman 1966:62 Postscript; Rizzo 2007:71–72.

[ back ] 164. Buchner and Boardman 1966:58; Boardman 1990:10 (quotation).

[ back ] 165. Porada 1956:198. See generally Collon 1987:113, 119; CANE 3:1600–1601 (Pittman).

[ back ] 166. Boardman 1990:10.

[ back ] 167. Rizzo 2007:39–41.

[ back ] 168. Buchner and Boardman 1966:42–43; Boardman 1990:10.

[ back ] 169. Buchner and Boardman 1966:22–23; Boardman 1990:9–10.

[ back ] 170. Boardman 1990:10.

[ back ] 171. Porada 1956:198; Buchner and Boardman 1966:11.

[ back ] 172. See p272.

[ back ] 173. Porada 1956:198, noting especially B1 44 (her fig. 12). But while the individual elements of this seal can mostly be paralleled by others in the Group, its overall style is quite different, and it may well come from a different workshop.

[ back ] 174. Buchner and Boardman 1966:22.

[ back ] 175. Buchner and Boardman 1966:58; Boardman 1990:8.

[ back ] 176. Buchner and Boardman 1966:56.

[ back ] 177. Thus corroborating the analysis of Buchner and Boardman 1966:57.

[ back ] 178. Human figures: Buchner and Boardman 1966 nos. 90, 160; two winged figures flanking the Sacred Tree as in N-A reliefs: no. 147.

[ back ] 179. Buchner and Boardman 1966 no. 41c: lowest register of a three-tier seal; the middle is occupied by enthroned lyrist, table, and frame-drummer (my Type IIIc).

[ back ] 180. Boardman 1990:10 (“an amalgam of borrowed and native religious motifs without any very specific significance”).

[ back ] 181. Collon 1987:119, cf. 170.

[ back ] 182. Numbers according to the following publications: A (Adana) = Poncy et al. 2001. BB = Buchner and Boardman 1966. B2 = Boardman 1990. I (Ialysos) = Rizzo 2007. IAP = Rizzo 2007 Appendix. SAM (see Abbreviations), Bible Lands Museum, not including two catalogued in B2. Type I: A1; B2 164. IIa: BB 9; IAP 11, 23. IIb: A2, 6; BB 7–8, 45, 89, 137; B2 1205; IAP 7, 10; Rizzo 2008–2009, fig. 2; SAM 23f. IIc: BB 88, 126; B2 1135. IId: A5. IIIa: A7—8; BB 118; I 6; SAM 23a. IIIb: B2 163; I 5. IIIc: BB 41 (middle register), 125; SAM 23c. IIId: A3; BB 114, 139a; B2 113bis, 113ter; IAP 12, 14; SAM 23b. IIIe: B2 113quater. IIIf: B2 165. IVa: I 3. IVb: I 4. IVc: A4, 11; BB 103, 161; I 2. Va: B2 120ter. Vb: BB 162; B2 62quater, 120bis, 167 (? see n183 above); IAP 1. Vc: BB 115.

[ back ] 183. The fullest certain scenes are B2 62quater, 120bis, and IAP 1. Boardman 1990:8 regarded the Seyrig seal (B2 167) as most complete; but this seal’s attribution to the Group is rightly questioned by Scardina 2010:68 and n20, along with the recent find from Monte Vetrano (Salerno)—another complex lyre-and-drinking rite (Cerchiai and Nava 2008–2009, fig. 8b), but with none of the defining stylistic feature of the Lyre-Player Group. Of course these further seals are still of great interest as representing parallel workshops within closely related traditions.

[ back ] 184. Porada 1956:198; Buchner and Boardman 1966.

[ back ] 185. Buchner and Boardman 1966:44, 57.

[ back ] 186. See p95.

[ back ] 187. This comparison was made by Boardman 1990:8–9.

[ back ] 188. See p330.

[ back ] 189. See n179 above.

[ back ] 190. See p383–388.

[ back ] 191. See p126, 178, 192, 247. Anent these seals, Scardina 2010:69. For Mesopotamian lexical evidence connecting birds and instruments, including the balang, see now Mirelman forthcoming.

[ back ] 192. Buchner and Boardman 1966:12–13, 152, etc.

[ back ] 193. The published image was too small for inclusion in our Figure 46.

[ back ] 194. See p388–391.

[ back ] 195. One was first published by Boardman in Muscarella 1981:166.

[ back ] 196. Buchner and Boardman 1966:4, 48, 147.

[ back ] 197. Porada 1956:200.

[ back ] 198. Buchner and Boardman 1966:50.

[ back ] 199. Boardman 1990:7, 10.

[ back ] 200. See p238–239.