Homer the Preclassic

  Use the following persistent identifier: http://nrs.harvard.edu/urn-3:hul.ebook:CHS_Nagy.Homer_the_Preclassic.2009.


Chapter Eight: Homeric variations on a theme of empire

II 81. Four festivals and four models of empire

II§230 In the account of Herodotus, Miletus figures as the premier city in a federation of twelve cities that comprise the Ionian Dodecapolis. This privileging of Miletus reflects an early model of political dominance that shaped the later model that we know as the Athenian empire. To be contrasted is what we are told by Strabo: in his account, Ephesus figures as the premier city. Such privileging, as we are about to see, reflects an intermediate model. In the case of Miletus, its political dominance in the federation corresponded to its prominence at the festival of the Panionia; in the case of Ephesus, its prominence was manifested at the festival of the Ephesia. These two festivals, as we are about to see, represent two different models of empire, which I will compare with two further models of empire as represented by two other festivals, the Delia in Delos and the Panathenaia in Athens.

II§231 The festival of the Ephesia at Ephesus, as we saw in Chapter 1, was a rival of the festival of the Delia at Delos. I quote again the relevant testimony of Thucydides:

IIⓣ27 Thucydides 3.104.2–4

ἀπέχει δὲ ἡ Ῥήνεια τῆς Δήλου οὕτως ὀλίγον ὥστε Πολυκράτης ὁ Σαμίων τύραννος ἰσχύσας τινὰ χρόνον ναυτικῷ καὶ τῶν τε ἄλλων νήσων ἄρξας καὶ τὴν Ῥήνειαν ἑλὼν ἀνέθηκε τῷ Ἀπόλλωνι τῷ Δηλίῳ ἁλύσει δήσας πρὸς τὴν Δῆλον. καὶ τὴν πεντετηρίδα τότε πρῶτον μετὰ τὴν κάθαρσιν ἐποίησαν οἱ Ἀθηναῖοι τὰ Δήλια. ἦν δέ ποτε καὶ τὸ πάλαι μεγάλη ξύνοδος ἐς τὴν Δῆλον τῶν Ἰώνων τε καὶ περικτιόνων νησιωτῶν· ξύν τε γὰρ γυναιξὶ καὶ παισὶν ἐθεώρουν, ὥσπερ νῦν ἐς τὰ ᾿Εφέσια ῎Ιωνες, καὶ ἀγὼν ἐποιεῖτο αὐτόθι καὶ γυμνικὸς καὶ μουσικός, χορούς τε ἀνῆγον αἱ πόλεις. δηλοῖ δὲ μάλιστα Ὅμηρος ὅτι τοιαῦτα ἦν ἐν τοῖς ἔπεσι τοῖσδε, ἅ ἐστιν ἐκ προοιμίου Ἀπόλλωνος

[The island of] Rheneia is so close to Delos that Polycrates, tyrant of the people of [the island-state of] Samos, who had supreme naval power for a period of time and {218|219} who had imperial rule [= arkhein] over the islands, including Rheneia, dedicated Rheneia, having captured it, to the Delian Apollo by binding it to Delos with a chain. After the purification [katharsis], the Athenians at that point made for the first time the quadrennial festival known as the Delia. And, even in the remote past, there had been at Delos a great coming together of Ionians and neighboring islanders [nēsiōtai], and they were celebrating [ἐθεώρουν ‘were making theōria’] along with their wives and children, just as the Ionians in our own times come together [= at Ephesus] for [the festival of] the Ephesia; and a competition [agōn] was held there [= in Delos], both in athletics and in mousikē (tekhnē), and the cities brought choral ensembles. Homer makes it most clear that such was the case in the following verses [epos plural], which come from a prooimion of Apollo. [Quotation follows.]

II§232 As we saw in Chapter 1, the wording prōton ‘for the first time’ in this passage refers to the first time that the festival of the Delia was celebrated on a quadrennial basis, not to the first time that this festival was ever celebrated. The katharsis ‘purification’ of the island of Delos signals the Athenian inauguration of this festival at Delos in its quadrennial form. This particular inauguration, as we saw, can be dated to the winter of 426 BCE. But then Thucydides goes on to say that there had been also an earlier Athenian katharsis of Delos, and that it took place at the initiative of the tyrant Peisistratos of Athens (3.104.1). This earlier katharsis signals an earlier Athenian inauguration of the same festival of the Delia at Delos. Besides Thucydides, Herodotus too refers to this earlier katharsis ‘purification’, and he specifies that it was initiated by Peisistratos (1.64.2). [1]

IIⓣ28 Thucydides 3.104.3–4

ἦν δέ ποτε καὶ τὸ πάλαι μεγάλη ξύνοδος ἐς τὴν Δῆλον τῶν Ἰώνων τε καὶ περικτιόνων νησιωτῶν· ξύν τε γὰρ γυναιξὶ καὶ παισὶν ἐθεώρουν, ὥσπερ νῦν ἐς τὰ ᾿Εφέσια Ἴωνες, καὶ ἀγὼν ἐποιεῖτο αὐτόθι καὶ γυμνικὸς καὶ μουσικός, χορούς τε ἀνῆγον αἱ πόλεις

And, even in the remote past, there had been at Delos a great coming together of Ionians and neighboring islanders [nēsiōtai], and they were celebrating [ἐθεώρουν ‘were making theōria’] along with their wives and children, just as the Ionians in our own times come together [= at Ephesus] for [the festival of] the Ephesia; and a competition [agōn] was held there [= in Delos], both in athletics and in mousikē (tekhnē), and the cities brought choral ensembles.

II§234 I note the wording used here by Thucydides in referring to the archetypal agōn … gumnikos kai mousikos ‘competition in athletics and in mousikē [tekhnē]’ (3.104.3–4). Using similar wording, he goes on to speak about an agōn ‘competition’ in mousikē (3.104.5 ὅτι δὲ καὶ μουσικῆς ἀγὼν ἦν) as he continues his historical reconstruction by quoting from the Homeric Hymn to Apollo (verses 165–172). The words he quotes are notionally spoken by Homer himself (3.104.4, 5, 6). So now we have been told not once but twice that there had been a prototypical era of celebrating the festival of the Delia in its prototypical form.

II§235 I note also the wording that Thucydides uses in referring to the celebrants of this prototypical festival: he speaks of ‘Ionians and neighboring islanders [nēsiōtai]’. The significance of the distinction made here by Thucydides between ‘Ionians’ and ‘islanders’ is clarified by what he says after he quotes ‘Homer’ as the speaker of the Homeric Hymn to Apollo (verses 165–172):

II§236 When Thucydides says ‘up to the time in question’ here, he is not even distinguishing any more between the older reorganizing of the Delia in the era of Peisi-{220|221} stratos and the newer reorganizing in the era of the early democracy. That is because Thucydides is at this point more concerned about something that is clearly missing in his picture of the contemporary Delia—something he thinks was not missing in the idealized picture of the Delia that he reconstructs from the Homeric Hymn to Apollo. What, then, is this missing piece of the picture in the here and now of Thucydides?

II§239 Like Peisistratos, Polycrates too had claimed Delos as a center for his own imperial ambitions. The concept of nēsiōtai ‘islanders’ is in fact particularly relevant to the maritime empire of Polycrates, who is mentioned prominently by Thucydides in precisely this context:

IIⓣ30 Thucydides 3.104.2

ἀπέχει δὲ ἡ Ῥήνεια τῆς Δήλου οὕτως ὀλίγον ὥστε Πολυκράτης ὁ Σαμίων τύραννος ἰσχύσας τινὰ χρόνον ναυτικῷ καὶ τῶν τε ἄλλων νήσων ἄρξας καὶ τὴν Ῥήνειαν ἑλὼν ἀνέθηκε τῷ Ἀπόλλωνι τῷ Δηλίῳ ἁλύσει δήσας πρὸς τὴν Δῆλον.

[The island of] Rheneia is so close to Delos that Polycrates, tyrant of the people of [the island-state of] Samos, who had supreme naval power for a period of time and {221|222} who had imperial rule [= arkhein] over the islands, including Rheneia, dedicated Rheneia, having captured it, to the Delian Apollo by binding it to Delos with a chain.

II§240 As we will now see, the figure of Homer in the Homeric Hymn to Apollo is a construct that fits the era of the Athenian regime of the Peisistratidai—and of the non-Athenian regime of the tyrant Polycrates of Samos. It is also a construct that fits the earliest recoverable era of the Homēridai of Chios, which coincides with the era of the Peisistratidai—and of Polycrates.

II§242 The rule of the tyrant Polycrates of Samos over the islands of the Aegean is a classic example of a maritime empire or thalassocracy:

IIⓣ31 Herodotus 3.122.2

Πολυκράτης γάρ ἐστι πρῶτος τῶν ἡμεῖς ἴδμεν Ἑλλήνων ὃς θαλασσοκρατέειν ἐπενοήθη, πάρεξ Μίνω τε τοῦ Κνωσσίου καὶ εἰ δή τις ἄλλος πρότερος τούτου ἦρξε τῆς θαλάσσης· τῆς δὲ ἀνθρωπηίης λεγομένης γενεῆς Πολυκράτης πρῶτος, ἐλπίδας πολλὰς ἔχων ᾿Ιωνίης τε καὶ νήσων ἄρξειν.

Polycrates was the first of Hellenes I know of who conceived the idea of thalassocracy—except for Minos of Knossos and unless there was anyone earlier than Minos who had imperial rule of [arkhein] the sea. But Polycrates was the first among humans with a known lineage [who had such a rule]. He had high hopes of having imperial rule of [arkhein] Ionia and the islands.

IIⓣ32 Thucydides 1.13.6

καὶ ῎Ιωσιν ὕστερον πολὺ γίγνεται ναυτικὸν ἐπὶ Κύρου Περσῶν πρώτου βασιλεύοντος καὶ Καμβύσου τοῦ υἱέος αὐτοῦ, τῆς τε καθ’ ἑαυτοὺς θαλάσσης Κύρῳ πολεμοῦντες ἐκράτησάν τινα χρόνον. καὶ Πολυκράτης Σάμου τυραννῶν ἐπὶ Καμβύσου ναυτικῷ ἰσχύων ἄλλας τε τῶν νήσων ὑπηκόους ἐποιήσατο καὶ Ῥήνειαν ἑλὼν ἀνέθηκε τῷ Ἀπόλλωνι τῷ Δηλίῳ.{222|223}

Then, in the time of Cyrus the first king of the Persians and of his son Cambyses, the Ionians had an extensive naval power. Waging war with Cyrus, they seized possession of the sea around them and held on to it for some time. And Polycrates, who was tyrant of Samos in the time of Cambyses and who had supreme naval power, subjugated the islands, including Rheneia, and, having captured Rheneia, dedicated it to Delian Apollo.

II§243 The rule of Polycrates over his maritime empire of Ionians needs to be contrasted with the rule of the Persians over the Hellenic cities of Asia Minor in their mainland empire, within a time frame that covers roughly the second half of the sixth century BCE and the first half of the fifth. Later on, I will have more to say about the maritime empire of the tyrant Polycrates. His empire is in some ways a precedent for the empire of the Athenians. As we will see, the proverbial Ring of Polycrates is a symbol of this imperial precedent. As we will also see, there is a related symbol to be found in a myth stemming ultimately from the Bronze Age. In this myth, Theseus of Athens dives into the sea to recover the royal imperial Ring of Minos, king of Knossos in Crete (Bacchylides Song 17).

II§244 At a later point, I will return to the myth of King Minos and his maritime empire or thalassocracy, which is for both Herodotus and Thucydides a Bronze Age precedent for the thalassocracy of the Athenian empire. It suffices here to confine myself to the relevant formulation I quoted earlier, concerning the reference made by Thucydides to the Ionian festival of the Delia at Delos: according to this formulation, the Ionians on the mainland of Asia Minor were distinct from the Ionians on the islands in the Aegean in that they could not participate in the Delia as once reorganized by Peisistratos—and, I must now add, as reorganized after Peisistratos by Polycrates of Samos.

IIⓣ33 Thucydides 3.104.3–4

ἦν δέ ποτε καὶ τὸ πάλαι μεγάλη ξύνοδος ἐς τὴν Δῆλον τῶν Ἰώνων τε καὶ περικτιόνων νησιωτῶν· ξύν τε γὰρ γυναιξὶ καὶ παισὶν ἐθεώρουν, ὥσπερ νῦν ἐς τὰ ᾿ΕφέσιαΙωνες, καὶ ἀγὼν ἐποιεῖτο αὐτόθι καὶ γυμνικὸς καὶ μουσικός, χορούς τε ἀνῆγον αἱ πόλεις.

And, even in the remote past, there had been at Delos a great coming together of Ionians and neighboring islanders, and they were celebrating [ἐθεώρουν ‘were making theōria’] along with their wives and children, just as the Ionians in our own times come together [= at Ephesus] for [the festival of] the Ephesia; and a competition [agōn] was held there [= in Delos], both in athletics and in mousikē, and the cities brought choral ensembles.

II§249 I propose an alternative formulation. To start, I stress the all-importance of the history of the Panionian festival of the Panionia, celebrated in a place known as the Panionion at Cape Mycale, near the city of Miletus, on the coast of Asia Minor. This festival of the Panionia defines the political dominance of Miletus as the premier city of the federation known as the Ionian Dodecapolis. An earlier phase of this festival of the Panionia was decisive in defining the cultural and political identity of {224|225} Ionians in Asia Minor and the Aegean islands. This earlier phase can be dated back to the eighth and the seventh centuries BCE—when this federation of the Ionian Dodecapolis was in its heyday. In the sixth century, however, this phase came to an end. Now both the Panionia and the Ionian Dodecapolis went into a precipitous decline inversely proportional to the rapid ascendancy of the Persian empire, which became the dominant power in all Asia Minor. The collapse of the Panionia in the early fifth century can be linked directly with the collapse of the political power once represented by the Ionian Dodecapolis in general and by the city of Miletus in particular. The decisive cause of the collapse was the defeat of the Ionian Revolt by the Persian empire in the 490s BCE.

II§252 Reconstructing forward in time as we track the history of the Panionia from the eighth century all the way to its discontinuation after the first decade of the fifth, we reach a moment in world history when a most decisive parting of ways takes place. After the defeat of the Ionian Revolt in the 490s, the festival of the Panionia was discontinued, and the pathway of Ionian identity reached a crossroads. Heading in one direction after the 490s was a festival like the Ephesia, celebrated by the Ionian mainlanders of Asia Minor and dominated by the mainland empire of the Persians until the 460s BCE, when political control of coastal Asia Minor shifted from the Persian empire to the Athenian. Heading in another direction was the festival of the Delia, celebrated by the Ionian islanders of the Aegean and dominated for a short time in the 520s by the island empire of the tyrant Polycrates of Samos. After Polycrates was overthrown and killed in 522 by agents of the Persian empire, control of the Delia reverted from the thalassocracy of Polycrates back to the evolving thalassocracy of Athens, initially in the era of the Peisistratidai and subsequently in the era of the new democracy. {225|226}

II§253 For a few decades after the 490s, when the Ionian cities of coastal Asia Minor were still being controlled by the Persian empire, the festivals of the Delia and the Ephesia could be seen as rival institutions. Representing the new Ionia of the Delian League was the festival of the Delia, evolving in the political sphere of the Athenian empire and connecting the Ionian islanders under the control of the Athenians. Representing the old Ionia, at least nominally, was the festival of the Ephesia, evolving in the political sphere of the Persian empire and connecting the Ionian mainlanders under the control of the Persians. Things changed in the 460s, as control over the Ionian cities of Asia Minor shifted from the Persian to the Athenian empire. Starting in the 460s, the prestige of both the Delia and the Ephesia could give way to the ultimate prestige of the Panathenaia in Athens. Just as the Delia and the Ephesia had eclipsed the Panionia, the Panathenaia could now eclipse these older festivals claiming Panionian status. The festival of the Panathenaia was evolving into the newest and the biggest of all Ionian festivals.

II§255 This new sixth-century Homer in the era of the tyrants—and by Homer here I mean both the poet and the poetry—is an earlier form of the fifth-century Homer in the new era of democracy that followed. In other words, it is an earlier form of what I have been calling up to now the Panathenaic Homer, which is a form of the Iliad and Odyssey that resembles most closely what we still recognize today as the Homeric Iliad and Odyssey.

II§256 Identified as the poet who speaks at the festival of the Delia in the Homeric Hymn to Apollo, this new sixth-century Panathenaic Homer represents an epic tradition that tends to highlight the island Ionians and to shade over the mainland Ionians {226|227} of Asia Minor. This is not to say that the mainland Ionians of older times are not present in Homeric poetry. They are still very much there. But these older Ionians are shaded over, by way of epic distancing.

II§259 There is comparatively less shading over when it comes to the island Ionians. The Panathenaic Homer makes incidental mention of the Ionian islands of Chios and Euboea in Odyssey iii (170–174) and of Euboea alone in vii (321). Also, there is a most conspicuous highlighting of the island of Delos in Odyssey vi (160).

II§261 Between the 490s and the 460s, the festival of the Delia had served the purpose of providing an alternative to the festival of the Ephesia. After the 460s, especially in the 420s, it also served the purpose of providing an alternative to the festival of the Olympia: that is, to the Olympics. Conversely, the Ephesia had served its own purpose so long as Hellenes could view this festival as an alternative to the ideology of the Athenian empire—an alternative initiated by the Persian empire. But Ephesus and the rest of the Ionian cities of coastal Asia Minor swung over to the Athenian empire and away from the Persian empire in the 460s and thereafter, and thus the festival of the Delia was no longer necessitated as a counterweight to the Ephesia. Even more than before, cultural dominance could gravitate toward the Panathenaia, the prestige of which could by now occlude the prestige of any other Ionian festival. Just as the Delia would by now be viewed as less important than before, so too the Ephesia. For a figure like Ion, his status as a rhapsode from Ephesus would therefore be viewed as less important than his status as a rhapsode who performed at the Panathenaia of Athens.

II 82. A Homeric glimpse of an Ionian festival

II§262 Here I take another look at the old Ionian festival of the Panionia, celebrated at a site that is notionally common to all Ionians, the Panionion of the Ionian Dodecapolis in Asia Minor:

IIⓣ34 Herodotus 1.148.1

τὸ δὲ Πανιώνιόν ἐστι τῆς Μυκάλης χῶρος ἱρός, πρὸς ἄρκτον τετραμμένος, κοινῇ ἐξαραιρημένος ὑπὸ Ἰώνων Ποσειδέωνι Ἑλικωνίῳ· ἡ δὲ Μυκάλη ἐστὶ τῆς ἠπείρου ἄκρη πρὸς ζέφυρον ἄνεμον κατήκουσα Σάμῳ <καταντίον>, ἐς τὴν συλλεγόμενοι ἀπὸ τῶν πολίων Ἴωνες ἄγεσκον ὁρτήν, τῇ ἔθεντο οὔνομα Πανιώνια

The Panionion is a sacred space of Mycale, facing north, which was set aside for Poseidon Helikōnios by the Ionians, in a decision made in common [koinēi] by all of them; Mycale is a promontory of the mainland, facing west toward Samos; it was here [= in Mycale] that the Ionians gathered together from their respective cities and celebrated a festival [heortē] that they named the Panionia.

II§263 I highlight the wording that refers to the primal decision that is notionally being made here by all the Ionians: the founding of the Panionia is said to be an action taken koinēi ‘in common’. In Chapter 7, we saw comparable wording in a context where Strabo (14.1.3 C633) refers to the founding of the Ionian Dodecapolis {228|229} by the Ionians: there too the action is taken koinēi ‘in common’. In that case, however, the action is said to be taken not only by the Ionians but also by the Athenians along with the Ionians. As I will argue, the wording in the text of Strabo marks the beginnings of the Athenian empire. As I will also argue, the linking of the Ionian Dodecapolis with the idea of this empire goes back to the Bronze Age.

II§264 Strabo gives a most vivid picture of the sight that travelers will see as they approach the promontory of Mycale by sea. It is a stunning view of the Panionion, site of the festival of the Panionia celebrated by the twelve cities of the Ionian Dodecapolis:

IIⓣ35 Strabo 14.1.20 C639

πρῶτον δ’ ἐστὶν ἐν τῇ παραλίᾳ τὸ Πανιώνιον τρισὶ σταδίοις ὑπερκείμενον τῆς θαλάττης, ὅπου τὰ Πανιώνια, κοινὴ πανήγυρις τῶν Ἰώνων, συντελεῖται τῷ ῾Ελικωνίῳ Ποσειδῶνι καὶ θυσία· ἱερῶνται δὲ Πριηνεῖς

First to be seen on the seacoast is the Panionion, situated three stadia above the sea, where the Panionia, a festival [panēguris] that is common [koinē] to the Ionians, is enacted for Poseidon Helikōnios, and sacrifice [thusia] is made to him; the people of Priene control the priestly duties [connected with the sacrifice].

II§265 Earlier, Strabo (8.7.2 C384) says more explicitly that the Panionion, this notional center of the Ionian Dodecapolis, was actually located in the environs of Priene, and that this location near Priene is linked with the fact that the city controlled the priestly duties of performing the sacrifice (thusia) to Poseidon Helikōnios at the festival of the Panionia (τῆς Πανιωνικῆς θυσίας ἣν ἐν τῇ Πριηνέων χώρᾳ συντελοῦσιν Ἴωνες τῷ ῾Ελικωνίῳ Ποσειδῶνι); Strabo goes on to say that the primacy of Priene as the place of sacrifice to Poseidon Helikōnios—and even as the agent of this sacrifice—was motivated by the fact that the people of Priene claimed as their place of origin the city of Helikē in the region of Achaea in the Peloponnese (8.7.2 C384 ἐπεὶ καὶ αὐτοὶ οἱ Πριηνεῖς ἐξ Ἑλίκης εἶναι λέγονται).

II§266 In the same context of considering the sacrificial duties of these priests of Priene, Strabo (8.7.2 C384) makes it explicit that the Ionians even in his own time worshipped Poseidon Helikōnios and celebrated (thuein) the festival of the Panionia at the Panionion (ὃν καὶ νῦν ἔτι τιμῶσιν Ἴωνες, καὶ θύουσιν ἐκεῖ τὰ Πανιώνια), and he proceeds to describe this festival as a thusia in the context of arguing that Homer actually mentions it in Iliad XX 404–405 (μέμνηται δ’, ὡς ὑπονοοῦσί τινες, ταύτης τῆς θυσίας Ὅμηρος ὅταν φῇ … [the quotation from Homer follows]). I draw special attention to Strabo’s metonymic use of thusia ‘sacrifice’ here to designate the whole festival of the Panionia. The geographer now proceeds to quote the verses of the Iliad (XX 404–405) that concern the sacrifice of a bellowing bull to Poseidon Helikōnios (ὡς ὅτε ταῦρος | ἤρυγεν ἑλκόμενος Ἑλικώνιον ἀμφὶ ἄνακτα). As he observes (again, 8.7.2 C384), the climax of the festival of the Panionia at the Panionion is the sacrifice of a bull to Poseidon Helikōnios—I note the word thusia, used here in the specific sense of ‘sacrifice’—and special care must be taken by the sacrificers to in-{229|230} duce the bull to bellow before it is sacrificed. Accordingly, Strabo continues, the reference in Iliad XX 404–405 to the sacrifice of a bellowing bull to Poseidon Helikōnios can be used to argue that the birth of Homer ‘the Poet’ par excellence is to be dated after the Ionian apoikia colonization’, on the grounds that he actually mentions the Panionian sacrifice of the Ionians to Poseidon Helikōnios in the environs of Priene (τεκμαίρονταί τε νεώτερον εἶναι τῆς Ἰωνικῆς ἀποικίας τὸν ποιητήν, μεμνημένον γε τῆς Πανιωνικῆς θυσίας ἣν ἐν τῇ Πριηνέων χώρᾳ συντελοῦσιν ῎Ιωνες τῷ ῾Ελικωνίῳ Ποσειδῶνι).

II§269 Strabo (8.7.2 C384) goes on to offer an alternative explanation: the description of the sacrifice of the bellowing bull in Iliad XX (404–405) stems from customs of worshipping Poseidon Helikōnios elsewhere—not in the environs of the Ionian Dodecapolis in Asia Minor but in the city of Helikē in the region of Achaea in the Peloponnese. (This city had been destroyed by a tsunami in 373 BCE.) As I have already noted, Strabo himself here recognizes Helikē as the place of origin for the people of Priene (8.7.2 C384 καὶ αὐτοὶ οἱ Πριηνεῖς ἐξ Ἑλίκης εἶναι λέγονται).

II§270 This alternative explanation offered by Strabo (8.7.2 C384) is a post-Athenocentric way of accounting for a pre-Athenocentric detail of Homeric poetry surviving from the Ionian traditions of the Panionia. Strabo’s thinking here can be summarized this way: if this detail about the bellowing sacrificial bull in Iliad XX is Ionian by origin, then Homer must be dated after the Ionian apoikia ‘colonization’. If Homer was to be dated before such an event, however, then the Poet supposedly saw this detail at a sacrifice that took place in a proto-Ionian setting, that is, in the Peloponnesus, which was the notional homeland of the Ionians in the era that preceded the Ionian Migration—an era that links Homer with the Bronze Age.

II§271 So even this rare glimpse of Homeric poetry as performed at the festival of the {230|231} Panionia in the sacred space of the Panionion in Ionian Asia Minor is eclipsed by an ideology that rejects as post-Homeric anything that seems overtly Ionian in Homeric poetry. Such an ideology is basically Athenocentric in orientation. What results is that Ionian elements are removed from their setting in Asia Minor and relocated in a supposedly proto-Ionian setting in the Peloponnese. From there these proto-Ionian elements are then supposedly channeled to Asia Minor by way of Athens as the metropolis or ‘mother city’ of the Ionians. The Homer of the Panionia is thus eclipsed by the Homer of a rival festival, the Delia, which is the point of definition for the Athenian empire in its earlier phases. The Delia then gives way to yet another rival festival, the Panathenaia, which becomes the ultimate point of definition for the later phases of the Athenian empire.

II§272 The eclipsing of the Panionian Homer by the Panathenaic Homer is not unprecedented. Earlier, the Panionian Homer of the Ionian Dodecapolis had eclipsed what I call the Panaeolian Homer of the Aeolian Dodecapolis. The “big bang” in this case was the transformation of Aeolian Smyrna, native city of Homer, into Ionian Smyrna. The great significance attributed to this transformation is evident from all the concentrated attention devoted to it in the narratives I cited earlier from Herodotus (1.143.3, 1.149.1–1.151.2) and Strabo (14.1.4 C633).

II§273 As we trace the succession from a Panaeolian to a Panionian to a Panathenaic Homer, we can see signs of continuity in the ideology of the festivals held by the federations represented by these three different phases of Homer. This continuity has to do with the idea of commonality as expressed by the word koinos ‘common, standard’. In the case of the Delian League, a conglomeration of Ionian cities headed by Athens as their notional metropolis or ‘mother city’, we saw that Homer himself is described as koinos in his dual role as (1) premier performer at the festival of the Delia and as (2) premier spokesman of the Delian League (Vita 2.319–320). In the case of the Ionian Dodecapolis, evidently headed by Miletus, we saw that Herodotus applies this same word koinos to the centralized sacred space called the Panionion, which served as the setting for the centralized festival of the Ionian Dodecapolis, the Panionia (1.148.1 τὸ δὲ Πανιώνιόν ἐστι τῆς Μυκάλης χῶρος ἱρός, πρὸς ἄρκτον τετραμμένος, κοινῇ ἐξαραιρημένος ὑπὸ Ἰώνων Ποσειδέωνι Ἑλικωνίῳ ‘the Panionion is a sacred space of Mycale, facing north, which was set aside for Poseidon Helikōnios by the Ionians, in a decision made in common [ koinēi ] by all of them’). [21] In the case of the Aeolian confederations, as we are about to see, there is indirect evidence in the relevant use of xunos ‘common’, synonym of the word koinos ‘common’ as used here by Herodotus. {231|232}

II§274 Just as Homer figured as a spokesman for Ionian federations like the Ionian Dodecapolis, he could also speak for Aeolian federations. We have already considered one such federation, the Aeolian Dodecapolis as described by Herodotus (1.149.1). As we saw, this league of twelve Aeolian cities was once the major rival of the league of twelve Ionian cities in claiming the strongest of ties to Homer. In fact, one of these Aeolian cities, Smyrna, was recognized by most other cities as the most likely to deserve the honor of being the birthplace of Homer. Another rival in claiming the strongest of ties to Homer was a league of Aeolian cities headed by the city of Mytilene on the island of Lesbos. This particular league, as we also saw earlier, once possessed the prime poetic real estate of the Homeric Iliad—ancient Troy and its environs in the Troad. As we are about to see, the identity of Homer as a spokesman for Aeolians was shaped primarily by the politics of this Aeolian league.

II 83. An Aeolic phase of Homer

II 84. An Attic phase of Homer

II 85. Ionic Koine and Aeolic Koine

II§284 As we saw in Chapter 6, the Aeolian cities of the island of Lesbos once belonged to a federation dominated by the city of Mytilene. As we also saw, this Aeolian city was engaged in an ongoing struggle with the nominally Ionian city of Athens over the possession of Sigeion and its environs in the Troad during the late seventh and early sixth centuries BCE. At stake was the possession of vitally important territory—important not only because of its strategic location on the Hellespont but also because of its prestige as a space made sacred by the heroes who fought in the Trojan War. The deeds of these heroes were memorialized by living poetic traditions that represented the conflicting claims of the rival federations headed by Athens and Mytilene. A primary focus of the conflict, as I have already emphasized, was the tumulus of Achilles.

IIⓣ36 Scholia D for Iliad IX 130

Παρὰ Λεσβίοις ἀγὼν ἄγεται κάλλους γυναικῶν ἐν τῷ τῆς Ἥρας τεμένει, λεγόμενος Καλλιστεῖα. Ἡ δὲ Λέσβος νῆσός ἐστιν ἐν τῷ Αἰγαίῳ πελάγει, πόλεις ἔχουσα πέντε, Ἄντισσαν, 
Ἐρεσσόν, Μήθυμναν, Πύῤῥαν, Μιτυλήνην [sic].

Among the people of Lesbos there is a contest [agōn] in beauty held in the sacred precinct [temenos] of Hera, called the Kallisteia . Lesbos is an island in the Aegean Sea, and it has five cities: Antissa, Eressos, Methymna, Pyrrha, and Mytilene.

II§292 I will not go into further details here concerning my earlier research on the self-dramatization of Alcaeus at Messon. Instead, I return to the central argument of Robert, which converges with my own central argument. Basically, this sacred precinct at Messon in Lesbos was the festive setting for the choral performances of women and girls as pictured in the poetry of Sappho.

II 86. Homer the Aeolian revisited

II§296 I draw attention to two details in Sappho’s “Wedding of Hector and Andromache.” First, we see references to the choral performances of women and girls, including {238|239} an explicit reference to choral ululation: γύναικες δ’ ἐλέλυσδον ‘and the women cried out elelu!’ (F 44.31). Second, we see references to masterpieces of pattern-weaving: κἄμματα |
πορφύρ[α] … ποίκιλ’ ἀθύρματα ‘purple fabrics, … pattern-woven [poikila] delights’ (F 44.8–10). In both cases, the wording of Sappho is cognate with the wording that describes in Iliad VI a ritual scene where the women of Troy present Athena with a choice ‘robe’ or peplos. [57] In the first case, I focus on the moment when the chief priestess of the Trojans places this peplos on the knees of the statue of the goddess (VI 302–303). At that moment, the women of Troy ululate as they extend their hands in a choreographed ritual gesture to Athena: αἳ δ’ ὀλολυγῇ πᾶσαι Ἀθήνῃ χεῖρας ἀνέσχον ‘with a cry of ololu! all of them lifted up their hands to Athena’ (VI 301). In the second case, I focus on the description of this choice peplos as a masterpiece of pattern-weaving: ὃς κάλλιστος ἔην ποικίλμασιν ἠδὲ μέγιστος ‘the one [peplos] that was the most beautiful in pattern-weavings [poikilmata] and the biggest’ (VI 294). The excellence of this pattern-woven fabric is highlighted by comparing it with all the other competing peploi that could have been chosen instead: ἔνθ’ ἔσάν οἱ πέπλοι παμποίκιλοι ‘there [in the storechamber] it was that she kept her peploi, and they were completely pattern-woven [pan-poikiloi]’ (VI 289). At a later point in my argumentation, I will return to these convergences of detail in Iliad VI and in Sappho’s Song 44.

II§297 Going beyond the details, let us consider the overall scene depicted in Sappho’s Song 44, “The Wedding of Hector and Andromache.” The atmosphere of the song is festive on the surface but ominous underneath. At the happy moment of their wedding, both the bridegroom and the bride are already doomed, victims of the epic fate of Troy. We see a sign of this doom in the epithet applied to both Hector and Andromache at the end of Sappho’s song, theoeikeloi ‘equal to the gods’ (F 44.34). The meaning of this epithet is generically appropriate to Hector and Andromache at the moment of their wedding, since bridegrooms and brides are conventionally identified with gods and goddesses within the ritual time frame of a wedding. [58] But the application of this epithet in the context of the overall scene is ominous underneath the surface. In the Homeric Iliad, which narrates the later misfortunes of both Hector and Andromache, the epithet theoeikelos ‘equal to the gods’ is applied only to Achilles (I 131, XIX 155). [59] In the Iliad, Achilles is the hero directly responsible for the death of Hector and for the sorrows of Andromache. Achilles is pictured as singing the klea andrōn ‘glories of heroes’ (IX 189) while accompanying himself on the lyre that had once belonged to Eëtion, father of Andromache (IX 186–189), whom Achilles had killed when he captured the Aeolian city of Thebe (VI 414–416). In effect, Achilles sings his klea andrōn ‘glories of heroes’ (IX 189) to the mournful tune of {239|240} the sorrows of Andromache. The lyre here is a metonym for the transfer of these sorrows to Achilles. The irony we see here in the Iliad is comparable to what we see in Song 44 of Sappho, “The Wedding of Hector and Andromache.” There too we find the same kind of irony, which depends on the poetic heritage that her lyric poetry has in common with the epic poetry of Homer. [60]

II§298 We can see a comparable irony in the scene depicted in Iliad VI, which is likewise festive on the surface but ominous underneath. The depiction of the offering of a peplos to the goddess Athena by the women of Troy evokes the joyous moment of the offering of the Panathenaic Peplos in Athens, but the ensuing narration of Troy’s destruction dooms to failure a ritual act that could succeed only in Athens—at the festival of the Panathenaia. And the occasion of this festival in Athens is precisely the venue for the actual narration of Troy’s destruction – a narration that takes place through the Panathenaic performance of the Homeric Iliad and Odyssey.

II§299 Just as the festive but ominous narration of the failed ritual of the peplos was performed on the occasion of a festival, that is, at the Panathenaia in Athens, I propose that the festive but ominous narration of the wedding of Hector and Andromache was traditionally performed on a comparable occasion. That occasion was the grand festival held seasonally at the sanctuary of Messon on the island of Lesbos, bringing together representatives of a grand federation of Aeolian cities headed by Mytilene, the city that rivaled Athens in the struggle for possession of the poetic real estate of the Troad in the late seventh and early sixth centuries BCE.

II 87. A Homeric glimpse of an Aeolian festival

IIⓣ37 Iliad IX 128–131

δώσω δ’ ἑπτὰ γυναῖκας ἀμύμονα ἔργα ἰδυίας
Λεσβίδας, ἃς ὅτε Λέσβον ἐϋκτιμένην ἕλεν αὐτὸς
ἐξελόμην, αἳ κάλλει ἐνίκων φῦλα γυναικῶν.
τὰς μέν οἱ δώσω, μετὰ δ’ ἔσσεται ἣν τότ’ ἀπηύρων
κούρη Βρισῆος·

And I [= Agamemnon] will give seven women, skilled in flawless handiwork [erga],
women from Lesbos. These women, when Lesbos with all its beautiful settlements was captured by him [= Achilles] all by himself,
were chosen by me as my own share [of the war prizes], and in beauty they were winners over all other rival groups of women.{241|242}
These are the women I will give him. And there will be among them the woman whom I took away back then,
the daughter of Briseus [= Briseis].

IIⓣ38 Iliad IX 270–273

δώσει δ’ ἑπτὰ γυναῖκας ἀμύμονα ἔργα ἰδυίας
Λεσβίδας, ἃς ὅτε Λέσβον ἐϋκτιμένην ἕλες αὐτὸς
ἐξέλεθ’, αἳ τότε κάλλει ἐνίκων φῦλα γυναικῶν.
τὰς μέν τοι δώσει, μετὰ δ’ ἔσσεται ἣν τότ’ ἀπηύρα
κούρη Βρισῆος·

And he [= Agamemnon] will give seven women, skilled in flawless handiwork [erga],
women from Lesbos. These women, when Lesbos with all its beautiful settlements was captured by you [= Achilles] all by yourself,
were chosen by him as his own share [of the war prizes], and in beauty they were winners, back then, over all other rival groups of women.
These are the women that he will give you. And there will be among them the woman whom he took away back then,
the daughter of Briseus [= Briseis].

IIⓣ39 Iliad XIX 245–246

ἐκ δ’ ἄγον αἶψα γυναῖκας ἀμύμονα ἔργα ἰδυίας 

ἕπτ’, ἀτὰρ ὀγδοάτην Βρισηΐδα καλλιπάρῃον.

And they led forth right away the women, skilled in flawless handiwork,
seven of them, and the eighth was Briseis of the fair cheeks.

II§302 In the Homeric scholia D (at Iliad IX 130), the first of these three references to the women from Lesbos is linked with a historically attested custom that was native to Lesbos, a seasonally recurring beauty contest known the Kallisteia. This contest, as we saw earlier, was the defining event of a Panaeolian festival seasonally celebrated at the federal sanctuary of Messon in Lesbos. According to the Homeric scholia, the mention of the women of Lesbos in the Iliad is a poetic reference to this festival. Such an interpretation, as I will now argue, is borne out by the internal evidence of the Iliad.

II§303 In examining this evidence, I start with the distancing word tote ‘once upon a time’, pointedly referring to those glory days in the past when these Aeolian women from Lesbos were prominent celebrities. Back then, according to the Iliad, these women were superior κάλλει ‘in beauty’ to all other women from all other places in the whole world. Foregrounded in this ensemble of beautiful Aeolian women is Briseis herself, who is characterized in the Iliad as an Aeolian woman in her own right. She too, like the other Aeolian women, was captured—and captivated—by none other than Achilles.

II§305 I draw attention to an essential parallel to the capturing of Lyrnessos by Achilles in the Iliad: the capturing of the city of Thebe by the same hero (II 690–691). This parallelism between Lyrnessos and Thebe, as we are about to see, highlights a connection between Briseis and Andromache. Relevant is another captive woman, Chryseis, who was awarded as a prize to Agamemnon just as the captive woman Briseis was awarded as a prize to Achilles. Just as Briseis was from Brisa in Lesbos according to one tradition, so also Chryseis was from Chrysa or Chrysē in Lesbos. [70] And just as Briseis when she was married moved to Lyrnessos and was later captured by Achilles there (Iliad II 688–693), so also Chryseis when she was married moved to Thebe and was later captured by Achilles there (Iliad I 366–369). [71] Here is where we see the connection between Briseis and Andromache. A native of the city of Thebe is Andromache herself, but she moved to Troy when she was married to Hector. Unlike the fate of Chryseis, the fate of Andromache as a captive woman is thus postponed, since she was already married to Hector and living in Troy, not in Thebe, when Achilles captured Thebe. [72] If Andromache had not already moved to Troy, her fate would have matched the fate of Chryseis, who had moved to Thebe, or the fate of Briseis, who had moved to Lyrnessos. That is because Achilles captured both Thebe and Lyrnessos. And the fact is that Thebe, like Lyrnessos, was an Aeolian city. Like Lyrnessos, the Thebe of Andromache was yet another city located on the mainland facing the island of Lesbos, and it, too, like Lyrnessos, was controlled by Lesbos in the sixth century. [73] Like Chryseis and Briseis, then, Andromache is an Aeolian personality.

II§306 These three women are not simply Aeolian personalities. They are Aeolian choral personalities. This characterization is most evident in the case of Briseis, as we see from the words spoken by this character when she laments the death of Patroklos:

IIⓣ40 Iliad XIX 282–302

          Βρισηῒς δ’ ἄρ’ ἔπειτ’ ἰκέλη χρυσέῃ Ἀφροδίτῃ
          ὡς ἴδε Πάτροκλον δεδαϊγμένον ὀξέϊ χαλκῷ,
          ἀμφ’ αὐτῷ χυμένη λίγ’ ἐκώκυε, χερσὶ δ’ ἄμυσσε {243|244}
285    στήθεά τ’ ἠδ’ ἁπαλὴν δειρὴν ἰδὲ καλὰ πρόσωπα.
          εἶπε δ’ ἄρα κλαίουσα γυνὴ ἐϊκυῖα θεῇσι·
          Πάτροκλέ μοι δειλῇ πλεῖστον κεχαρισμένε θυμῷ
          ζωὸν μέν σε ἔλειπον ἐγὼ κλισίηθεν ἰοῦσα,
          νῦν δέ σε τεθνηῶτα κιχάνομαι ὄρχαμε λαῶν
290    ἂψ ἀνιοῦσ’ · ὥς μοι δέχεται κακὸν ἐκ κακοῦ αἰεί.
          ἄνδρα μὲν ᾧ ἔδοσάν με πατὴρ καὶ πότνια μήτηρ
          εἶδον πρὸ πτόλιος δεδαϊγμένον ὀξέϊ χαλκῷ,
          τρεῖς τε κασιγνήτους, τούς μοι μία γείνατο μήτηρ,
          κηδείους, οἳ πάντες ὀλέθριον ἦμαρ ἐπέσπον.
295    οὐδὲ μὲν οὐδέ μ’ ἔασκες, ὅτ’ ἄνδρ’ ἐμὸν ὠκὺς Ἀχιλλεὺς
          ἔκτεινεν, πέρσεν δὲ πόλιν θείοιο Μύνητος,
          κλαίειν, ἀλλά μ’ ἔφασκες Ἀχιλλῆος θείοιο
          κουριδίην ἄλοχον θήσειν, ἄξειν τ’ ἐνὶ νηυσὶν
          ἐς Φθίην, δαίσειν δὲ γάμον μετὰ Μυρμιδόνεσσι.
300    τώ σ’ ἄμοτον κλαίω τεθνηότα μείλιχον αἰεί.
          Ὣς ἔφατο κλαίουσ’, ἐπὶ δὲ στενάχοντο γυναῖκες
          Πάτροκλον πρόφασιν, σφῶν δ’ αὐτῶν κήδε’ ἑκάστη.

          But then Briseis, looking like golden Aphrodite,
          saw Patroklos all cut apart by the sharp bronze, and when she saw him,
          she poured herself [kheîn] all over him [in tears] and wailed with a voice most shrill, and
               with her hands she tore at
285    her breasts and her tender neck and her beautiful face.
          And then she spoke, weeping, this woman who looked like the goddesses:
          “O Patroklos, you have been most gracious [via participle of kharizesthai] to me in my
               terrible state and most gratifying [again, via participle of kharizesthai] to my heart.
          You were alive when I last saw you on my way out from the shelter,
          and now I come back to find you dead, you, the protector of your people;
290    that is what I come back to find. Oh, how I have one misfortune after the next to welcome me.
          The man to whom I was given away by my father and by my mother the queen,
          I saw that man lying there in front of the city, all cut apart by the sharp bronze,
          and lying near him were my three brothers—all of us were born of one mother.
          They are all a cause for my sorrow, since they have all met up with their time of destruction.
295    No, you did not let me—back when my husband was killed by swift Achilles,
          killed by him, and when the city of my godlike Mynes [= my husband] was destroyed by him
          —you did not let me weep, back then, but you told me that godlike Achilles
          would have me as a properly courted wife, that you would make that happen, and that you
               would take me on board the ships,
          taking me all the way to Phthia, and that you would arrange for a wedding feast among the
               Myrmidons. {244|245}
300    So now I cannot stop crying for you, now that you are dead, you who were always so sweet
               and gentle.”
          So she [= Briseis] spoke, weeping, and the women mourned in response.
          They mourned for Patroklos, that was their pretext, but they were all mourning, each and
               every one of them, for what they really cared for in their own sorrow.

II§308 In the logic of the ongoing narrative, this ensemble of women responding to the lament of Briseis is the same as the ensemble of captive women from Lesbos mentioned in Iliad IX. In performing her lament in conjunction with the antiphonal laments of these women, Briseis is linked with the predetermined choral role of these women, who were ‘once upon a time’ celebrated as the most beautiful girls in the whole world—back in those happier times before the Trojan War. In the lament of Briseis, her identity merges with the identity of these captive women of Lesbos. Once upon a time, they were the world’s most marriageable girls, living the charmed life of renowned choral celebrities and groomed to become the wives of their region’s most powerful rulers. Now they are miserable slaves, doomed to become the concubines of their captors.

II§309 Despite their pitiful degradation in social status, these women of Lesbos retain their aristocratic charisma. An outward sign is the highlighting of their erga ‘handiwork’ (IX 128, 270). The most prestigious form of such handiwork, as we will see later, is these women’s skill in pattern-weaving, a mark of excellence viewed as a parallel to their universally acknowledged excellence in choral singing and dancing.

II§311 This erotic moment is extended. Once Andromache revives from her swoon (XXII 473–476), her consciousness modulates instantaneously into a lament as sensual as it is sorrowful (XXII 477–514). This sensuality bears the mark of Aphrodite.

II§312 Here I adduce a passage from tragedy that echoes the sensuality of Andromache’s lament in the Iliad. The passage is a set of verses introducing an aria of lamentation sung as a monody by the actor who plays the title role in the Andromache of Euripides. These verses touch on Andromache’s mixed feelings of sorrow and sensuality:

IIⓣ41 Euripides Andromache 91–95

ἡμεῖς δ’ οἷσπερ ἐγκείμεσθ’ ἀεὶ
θρήνοισι καὶ γόοισι καὶ δακρύμασιν
πρὸς αἰθέρ’ ἐκτενοῦμεν· ἐμπέφυκε γὰρ
γυναιξὶ τέρψις τῶν παρεστώτων κακῶν
ἀνὰ στόμ’ αἰεὶ καὶ διὰ γλώσσης ἔχειν.

But I, involved as I am all the time in laments [thrēnoi] and wailings [gooi] and outbursts of tears,
will make them reach far away, as far as the aether. For it is natural
for women, when misfortunes attend them, to take pleasure [terpsis]
in giving voice to it all, voicing it again and again, maintaining the voice from one mouth to the next, from one tongue to the next.

In these verses, the actor who represents Andromache is speaking in a rhythm that we know as the iambic trimeter. In the verses that will follow, he will be singing in a rhythm that we know as elegiac, consisting of elegiac couplets (101–116). And the sung elegiac verses will show that the actor who sings them must be more than an actor: he is also a singing virtuoso. What the actor will sing is a monody, which is a solo song requiring special virtuosity in singing—the kind of virtuosity that transcends the singing skills of the chorus. It is the sung verses of this monody (101–116) that are being introduced by the spoken verses of the passage we are now considering (91–95). But the wording of these spoken verses anticipates not only the solo singing of Andromache. It anticipates also the antiphonal singing of a chorus {246|247} of women who will continue to sing where the solo singing of Andromache leaves off. This chorus of women will share the sorrows of Andromache and will be ‘maintaining the voice from one mouth to the next, from one tongue to the next’ (95). This wording of Andromache, which merely imagines the antiphonal lament of a chorus of women, anticipates what will actually happen when the monody of Andromache leaves off: the solo lament performed by Andromache (101–116) will now be taken up by an antiphonal lament that is no longer imagined but actually performed (117–146). And the performers of this antiphonal lament are no longer an imaginary chorus but the tragic chorus that sings and dances in the Andromache of Euripides.

II§313 We find in the Iliad a striking parallel to this choral response sung and danced by an ensemble of women who share the sorrows of Andromache as she sings her solo lament. It happens at the closure of the lament performed by Andromache after she sees the corpse of her husband dragged behind the chariot of Achilles. After the quotation of her solo song of lament (XXII 477–514), what follows is a lamentation by Trojan women who continue where the soloist left off:

IIⓣ42 Iliad XXII 515

Ὣς ἔφατο κλαίουσ’, ἐπὶ δὲ στενάχοντο γυναῖκες

So she [= Andromache] spoke, weeping, and the women mourned in response.

IIⓣ43 Iliad XIX 301–302

Ὣς ἔφατο κλαίουσ’, ἐπὶ δὲ στενάχοντο γυναῖκες
Πάτροκλον πρόφασιν, σφῶν δ’ αὐτῶν κήδε’ ἑκάστη.

So she [= Briseis] spoke, weeping, and the women mourned in response.
They mourned for Patroklos, that was their pretext [prophasis], but they were all mourning, each and every one of them, for what they really cared for in their own sorrow. {247|248}

II§316 The narrative of the Iliad actually comments on its omission of the choral wording voiced by the captive women of Lesbos. While they sing antiphonally a song of lament for Patroklos, these women are really lamenting their own misfortunes. The wording of the Iliad draws attention to the prophasis ‘pretext’ of the sorrow of the women of Lesbos over the death of Patroklos (XIX 302). That sorrow is for them secondary to their sorrow about their own fate. For the Iliad, however, the sorrow occasioned by the death of Patroklos must remain the primary epic concern, and so the choral lyric concerns of the captive women cannot be voiced by them.

IIⓣ44 Odyssey viii 521–530

          ταῦτ’ ἄρ’ ἀοιδὸς ἄειδε περικλυτός· αὐτὰρ Ὀδυσσεὺς
          τήκετο, δάκρυ δ’ ἔδευεν ὑπὸ βλεφάροισι παρειάς. {248|249}
          ὡς δὲ γυνὴ κλαίῃσι φίλον πόσιν ἀμφιπεσοῦσα,
          ὅς τε ἑῆς πρόσθεν πόλιος λαῶν τε πέσῃσιν,
525    ἄστεϊ καὶ τεκέεσσιν ἀμύνων νηλεὲς ἦμαρ·
          ἡ μὲν τὸν θνῄσκοντα καὶ ἀσπαίροντα ἰδοῦσα
          ἀμφ’ αὐτῷ χυμένη λίγα κωκύει· οἱ δέ τ’ ὄπισθε
          κόπτοντες δούρεσσι μετάφρενον ἠδὲ καὶ ὤμους
          εἴρερον εἰσανάγουσι, πόνον τ’ ἐχέμεν καὶ ὀϊζύν·
530    τῆς δ’ ἐλεεινοτάτῳ ἄχεϊ φθινύθουσι παρειαί·

          Thus sang the singer [aoidos], the one whose glory is supreme. And Odysseus
          dissolved [tēkesthai] into tears. He made wet his cheeks with the tears flowing from his
               eyelids,
          just as a woman cries, falling down and embracing her dear husband,
          who fell in front of the city and people he was defending,
525    trying to ward off the pitiless day of doom hanging over the city and its children.
          She sees him dying, gasping for his last breath,
          and she pours herself all over him as she wails with a piercing cry. But there are men
               behind her,
          prodding her with their spears, hurting her back and shoulders,
          and they bring for her a life of bondage, which will give her pain and sorrow.
530    Her cheeks are wasting away with a sorrow [akhos] that is most pitiful [eleeinon].

II§318 Just as this unnamed captive woman laments as she embraces the corpse of her husband (Odyssey viii 527 ἀμφ’ αὐτῷ χυμένη λίγα κωκύει), so also Briseis laments as she embraces the corpse of Patroklos (Iliad XIX 284 ἀμφ’ αὐτῷ χυμένη λίγ’ ἐκώκυε), evoking her earlier lament over the corpse of her own dear husband.

II§319 The figure of Briseis, in the act of singing her lament, is a stand-in for the choral ensemble of lamenting women from Lesbos. The choral antiphony performed by these women of Lesbos foregrounds the choral personality of the woman who figures as their prima donna, Briseis. And she looks the part of a choral prima donna. It is relevant that Briseis is likened to Aphrodite herself in the context of singing her own sorrows (Iliad XIX 282), just as Andromache is linked to Aphrodite in the context of her singing her own sorrows (XXII 470–471: as we saw, Andromache wears for her wedding a veil given to her by the goddess herself). The association of these two figures with Aphrodite in these sorrowful contexts is comparable to what we find in the first song of the ancient collection attributed to Sappho (F 1). In this erotic song about unrequited love, in the context of singing her own sorrows, Sappho likens herself to Aphrodite by speaking with the voice of the goddess. This poetic effect is achieved by way of directly quoting what Aphrodite is saying to Sap-{249|250} pho (Sappho F 1.18–24). [81] This point of comparison linking Sappho with Briseis and Andromache is essential for my argumentation, since Sappho represents herself as a choral lyric prima donna when she assumes the role of Aphrodite by speaking with the voice of the goddess. [82] And this self-representation is parallel not only to the representations of Briseis and Andromache in the Iliad but also to the representation of Andromache in Sappho’s own poetry, as we see in “The Wedding of Hector and Andromache.” In the lyric poetry of Sappho, the figure of Andromache was not a borrowing from Homeric poetry. Rather, Andromache was native to the lyric tradition of the Aeolic Koine. Andromache was part of this lyric tradition well before the time of Sappho—and well before this lyric tradition was ever appropriated by the epic tradition of the Ionic Koine represented by Homer.

II§320 What I just said about Andromache applies also to Briseis. She too was native to the lyric traditions of the Aeolic Koine. In the case of Briseis, moreover, her status as an Aeolian prima donna is more overt, since the Iliad associates Briseis directly with the women of Lesbos, whereas it associates Andromache only with the women of Troy. Briseis is an explicitly Aeolian prima donna by virtue of performing as the lead singer of the women of Lesbos in the Homeric Iliad.

II 88. The festive poetics of federal politics

II§321 So far, on the basis of examining Iliadic passages referring to the women of Lesbos, I have been arguing that Homeric poetry shows an awareness of what became the Aeolian federation that celebrated its seasonally recurring festival at Messon, the ‘Middleground’ of that Aeolian island. This argument connects with another, which is that Homeric poetry was secondarily shaped by the federal politics of the Ionian federation that celebrated the seasonally recurring festival of the Panathenaia at Athens. In referring to the women of Lesbos, Homeric poetry shows its partiality to that Ionian federation, at the expense of this rival Aeolian federation. It pictures these Aeolian women as captives of Achilles, who is said to have captured single-handedly all the cities of Lesbos (IX 129, 271). So the Aeolians of Lesbos are represented as a defeated and degraded population. Such partiality is not at the expense of all Aeolians, however, since Achilles himself is acknowledged in Homeric poetry as an Aeolian hero. He is after all a native of Thessaly, which is the European homeland of the Aeolians. Though he belongs to the Aeolian people of Europe, Achilles is nevertheless an enemy of the Aeolian people on the other side of the Aegean in Asia Minor and its outlying islands. To repeat, he captures the cities of the main island of the Aeolians, Lesbos, and enslaves their women. Such a portrayal suits the political interests of the Athenians, who were engaged in a struggle with {250|251} the cities of Lesbos, especially with Mytilene, over the possession of a vital part of the Asiatic mainland: that is, the city of Sigeion and its environs in the Troad. As we saw earlier, the Athenian encroachment on the Troad did not necessarily undercut the identity of the Aeolian population who lived there, since Athens at the time of this conflict with the Aeolians in Asia Minor was an ally of the Aeolians in Europe: that is, with the Thessalians. And the Thessalians had their own claim on the Troad, as we know from a ritual described by Philostratus, which I quoted in Chapter 7. In the era of the Peisistratidai and even earlier, the Athenians were allies of these European Aeolians of Thessaly and enemies of the Asiatic Aeolians of Lesbos, especially of the Mytilenaeans.

II§322 In the context of the conflict between the Athenians and the Aeolians of Lesbos over the Troad, the Athenians took the initiative of appropriating the poetic heritage of these Aeolians. Such appropriation took the form of actually displaying for public consumption the poetry of Lesbos at the festival of the Panathenaia in Athens. When the Homeric Iliad features Briseis singing her lament for Patroklos and, implicitly, for her husband, what is actually being heard by the audience at the Panathenaia in Athens is the lament of an Aeolian woman originating from the federation of Lesbos. So also when the Homeric Iliad features Andromache singing her lament for her husband, Hector, what is being heard by the Panathenaic audience is the lament of another Aeolian woman originating from the same federation.

II§323 The performance of such laments is adapted to the medium of the rhapsodes who perform Homeric poetry at the Panathenaia. So the laments of Briseis and of Andromache are performed as if they were monodic, not choral, though the Homeric narrative goes on to represent the performances of antiphonal responses by choral ensembles composed of women from Lesbos and from Troy respectively. In both cases the prima donna of the choral ensemble is an Aeolian woman. So, by extension, the overall performance is imagined as an Aeolian choral lyric song. In other words, Homeric poetry represents Aeolian women in the act of performing choral lyric poetry.

II§324 At the Panathenaia in Athens, the performance of epic poetry by rhapsodes was not the only medium for representing Aeolian women in the act of performing choral lyric poetry. Another medium of representation was the performance of non-choral lyric poetry. In this case, the performers were not rhapsodes. To make this point, I show a picture of Sappho and Alcaeus in a vase painting: 

Figures 3a–b. Attic red-figure kalathoid vase: (a) obverse, Sappho (labeled as “ΣΑΦΟ”) and Alcaeus(labeled as “ΑΛΚΑΙΟΣ”); (b) reverse, Dionysus and maenad. Attributed to the Brygos Painter. Munich, Antikensammlungen, 2416. Drawing by Valerie Woelfel.

II§326 From what we have seen so far, I conclude that poetry was a currency used by federations of cities as a self-expression of their federalism. The self-expression took the form of poetic performances at festivals celebrated in common by the cities belonging to these federations, dominated by master cities like Mytilene on the island of Lesbos and Athens on the Helladic mainland. Another prominent example, as we saw in Chapter 7, was Miletus on the Asiatic mainland. In the case of Mytilene, the federation of Aeolian cities it dominated was notionally a Panaeolian society. Similarly in the case of Miletus, the federation of Ionian cities it dominated was notionally a Panionian society. Much the same can be said in the case of Athens, though the composition of the federation it dominated was more complicated. Back when {252|253} the nexus of Ionian cities that eventually became the Delian League started to be dominated by Athens, this federation did not yet have the prestige of the Ionian Dodecapolis dominated by Miletus. Thus any claim to the effect that Athens was the leader of a Panionian society would have been weaker than the rival claim of Miletus. Later on, as the Delian League evolved into the Athenian empire, its claim to represent a Panionian society became so strong as to eclipse all other rival claims. But by then the Athenian empire had outgrown the necessity for claiming to represent such a Panionian society, since it could now claim to represent something much broader—something that was notionally all-encompassing. That something was a notionally Panhellenic society.

Footnotes

[ back ] 1. See again Hornblower 1991:527. Athenian involvement in the Delia can be dated even farther back to the era of Solon: Aloni 1989:44–45.

[ back ] 2. Hornblower 1991:520. In the sixth century, however, the Persian empire still controlled most of the coast of Asia Minor; in that respect, then, there is a major difference with the fifth century, when that control was taken over by the Athenian empire. For more on the sixth century, see also Hornblower p. 519, who comments on the “vigorous Aegean foreign policy” of the Peisistratidai. I refer again to his pp. 519–520 for comments on the survival of various ideologies from the era of the Peisistratidai to the era of the democracy, such as various Panhellenic features of the Eleusinian Mysteries.

[ back ] 3. See Rhodes 1994:260.

[ back ] 4. This problem is raised in HC ch. 4.

[ back ] 5. Gomme 1956:415.

[ back ] 6. Zenobius of Athos 1.62; Suda s.v. tauta kai Puthia kai Dēlia.

[ back ] 7. Burkert 1979:59–60 and Janko 1982:112–113; West 1999:369–370n17 argues for 523 but concedes that the date of spring 522 is still possible.

[ back ] 8. Gomme 1956:415. See also Plutarch Nikias 3.5–7 and the remarks of Gomme.

[ back ] 9. Frame 2009 §4.11 and endnote 4.2.

[ back ] 10. For more on the Ephesia, see Kowalzig 2007:103–104, 108–110.

[ back ] 11. Hornblower 1991:527, with further citations.

[ back ] 12. Rhodes 1994:259. In the fifth and fourth centuries BCE, as Hornblower 1991:522 observes, the shaping of the festival of the Ephesia at Ephesus was taking place in Asia Minor, which was under the overall political domination of the Persian empire: the Ephesia “continued to be celebrated on Persian soil throughout the fifth and fourth centuries.” Still, Ephesus was notionally a member of the Delian League. To sum up the politics and poetics of Homer in Ephesus and in other Ionian cities of Asia Minor during the fifth and fourth centuries BCE, I offer this formulation: the imperial Homer straddled two empires, the Persian and the Athenian.

[ back ] 13. Here I follow the reasoning of Frame 2009 endnote 4.2.

[ back ] 14. Again, I follow the reasoning of Frame 2009.

[ back ] 15. Meiggs 1972:282.

[ back ] 16. At Iliad XIII 700, there is also a mention of Boiōtoi ‘Boeotians’, which picks up the mention of Boiōtoi at XIII 685, where they are correlated with the Ionians. See Page 1959 on the Boiōtoi in the Catalogue of Iliad II and Giovannini 1969 on the Delphic orientation of the Catalogue.

[ back ] 17. As we have seen, the twelve cities of the Ionian Dodecapolis are listed by Herodotus (1.142.3); also the twelve cities of the Aeolian Dodecapolis (1.149.1).

[ back ] 18. Again, Meiggs 1972:282.

[ back ] 19. As we see from the context of the Iliadic passage here, the mode of inflicting the mortal blow in sacrificing the bull highlights the vitality of the bull, who is “pumped up” with fear and rage. In the exegetical scholia bT for Iliad XX 406a (see also bT for 404b), the commentator takes great care in noting the explosion of arterial blood at the climactic moment when the sacrificial blow severs the carotid artery of the “pumped up” animal. It appears that this mode of sacrificing the bull intensifies the rush of arterial blood spurting from the sacrificial blow.

[ back ] 20. A case in point is the Catalogue of Heroines in Odyssey xi, as studied by Frame 2009 ch. 7.

[ back ] 21. Εlsewhere too, Herodotus uses koinos ‘common’ in comparable contexts of commonality (as at 1.151.3, 1.166.1, 1.170.2, 2.178.2, and so on). And there are two instances where he uses the synonym xunos ‘common’ (4.12.3, 7.53.1).

[ back ] 22. PH ch. 14 (= pp. 414–437).

[ back ] 23. Parry 1932. Summarized in Nagy 1972:59.

[ back ] 24. In the online version of Nagy 1972:59 (2008b), I offer an updating of my views, which I repeat here. I distance myself from speaking of successive dialectal “layers” in epic. In general, I am persuaded by the argumentation of Horrocks in criticizing various current “layer theories” (see especially Horrocks 1997:214). Instead of speaking of earlier and later dialectal “layers” in Homeric poetry, I now prefer to speak of earlier and later dialectal “phases,” since the term phases allows for an overlap and even a coexistence of relatively earlier and later dialectal forms at any given time in the evolution of epic. To the extent that the term layer may not allow for such overlap or coexistence, it now seems to me preferable not to use it. In general, my current thinking about the dialectal mix of epic is closest to that of Wachter 2000, especially p. 64n4. In the case of coexisting Aeolic and Ionic forms in epic, I should add, it is essential to distinguish between optional and obligatory Aeolic forms. Provided that we keep this distinction in mind, I can agree with Wachter’s formulation concerning “optional” Aeolic forms such as αἰ vs. Ionic εἰ, ἔμμεν vs. Ionic εἶναι, and so on. Aeolic forms are obligatory where no corresponding Ionic forms fit the meter, but they are only optional where existing Ionic forms can be substituted.

[ back ] 25. Nagy 1972:58–70.

[ back ] 26. Janko 1992:15-19, 303.

[ back ] 27. Nagy 1972:59; also pp. 25–26.

[ back ] 28. I speak of “inert layering” because, as I have just noted, I distance myself from the “layer” theories criticized by Horrocks 1997:214.

[ back ] 29. HTL 124. See also Cassio 2002:117, 126, 131.

[ back ] 30. HC ch. 4.

[ back ] 31. Nagy 1972:25–26, 59–60. Also PH 14§9 (= p. 418).

[ back ] 32. Parry 1932, reprinted in Nagy 2001h1:15–64. See also the Introduction in Nagy 2001h1.

[ back ] 33. Parry 1971:ix–lxii.

[ back ] 34. See also Parry 1966, included in volume 2 of Nagy 2001h2.

[ back ] 35. Lord 1995:22–68.

[ back ] 36. Lord 1995:105–106.

[ back ] 37. Nagy 1974; PH Appendix (= pp. 439–464).

[ back ] 38. Nagy 1993. In what follows, I repeat some of the argumentation that I published there.

[ back ] 39. Robert 1960. He also demonstrates the connectedness of Alcaeus F 129 with F 130.

[ back ] 40. Nagy 1993:221, where I add that the use of the word sunodoi ‘assemblies’ in Alcaeus F 130b.15, in a fragmentary context, may be pertinent.

[ back ] 41. Robert 1960.

[ back ] 42. Detienne 1973:97. I add the qualification “agonistic” in light of the discussion of Loraux 1987:108–112.

[ back ] 43. Another example of such symmetrical visualization is the Spartan term for their civic space, khoros: see Pausanias (3.11.9), who adds that this space was the setting for the Spartan festival of the Gymnopaidiai. See PH 12§17 (= pp. 344–345), with further citations. The designation of this festive space as the khoros is relevant to a detail in the narrative of Herodotus (6.67.2) about an incident involving a king of Sparta who presided over the festival of the Gymnopaidiai after being deposed from his kingship by a rival king: the former king’s official title as president of this festival was arkhōn ‘leader’, and Herodotus plays on the ominous political significance of the use of this word in the context of the explosive incident that he narrates. See PH 12§23n56 (= pp. 348–349).

[ back ] 44. Again, Robert 1960.

[ back ] 45. Again, Detienne 1973:97.

[ back ] 46. Nagy 1993.

[ back ] 47. Gentili 1988:220, 306n30.

[ back ] 48. Page 1955:168n4.

[ back ] 49. Gentili 1988:220, 306n30.

[ back ] 50. Page 1955:168n4. On the validity of traditional representations of Sappho as a choral personality, see PH 12§60 (= p. 370).

[ back ] 51. On the equation of the ‘Aeolian goddess’ with Hera, I find the argumentation of Robert 1960 most persuasive.

[ back ] 52. Nagy 1993:223–225.

[ back ] 53. Nagy 1993:223n7.

[ back ] 54. PH 12§62 (= p. 371). As we can see from the work of Power 2010:261–263, some of Sappho’s compositions are not only monodic but also citharodic.

[ back ] 55. PH 14§§6–9 (= pp. 416–418); PH Appendix §§2–19, 27, 33–37 (= pp. 439–451, 455–456, 459–464).

[ back ] 56. PH Appendix §37 (= p. 464), summarizing the essentials of what I present in Nagy 1974. As Power 2010:258–263 shows, Song 44 of Sappho reflects a citharodic medium of performance.

[ back ] 57. From here on, I will write simply “peplos,” except where I analyze the etymology of the word.

[ back ] 58. PP 84.

[ back ] 59. On the theme of Achilles as the “eternal bridegroom,” see Dué 2006:82–83.

[ back ] 60. Nagy 1974:118–139. It is relevant to note again the work of Power 2010:258–263, who shows that the form of this lyric poetry of Sappho reflects a citharodic medium of performance.

[ back ] 61. As Power 2010:257–273 shows, the medium for performing such a form of epic may be more citharodic than rhapsodic.

[ back ] 62. Nagy 1974:118–139.

[ back ] 63. Nagy 1974:137–139.

[ back ] 64. Commentary on these passages in Aloni 1986:52.

[ back ] 65. Dué 2002.

[ back ] 66. Dué 2002:4n10.

[ back ] 67. Dué 2002:3n10.

[ back ] 68. Dué 2002:24n15.

[ back ] 69. Dué 2002:24n15.

[ back ] 70. Dué 2002:59n32. On the archaeological excavations at Chrysa, see Özgünel 2003.

[ back ] 71. Dué 2002:51.

[ back ] 72. Dué 2002:12.

[ back ] 73. Dué 2002:24n15.

[ back ] 74. In traditional lament, the physiology of weeping and gesturing is integrated with the art of singing and dancing (I note the relevant remarks of Dué 2006:46).

[ back ] 75. On antiphonal tsakismata in Modern Greek traditions of lamentation, see Dué 2006:159, with citations.

[ back ] 76. Dué 2002:70–71, 81; and Dué 2006:43–44.

[ back ] 77. Detailed analysis by Dué 2006:4, 78, with citations.

[ back ] 78. In the case of the final lament that we see in the Iliad, performed by Helen, the antiphonal response is performed not by a stylized chorus of women (as in VI 499, XIX 301, XXII 515, XXIV 746) but by the entire community or dēmos of the Trojans (XXIV 776). See Dué 2006:44. On the khoros ‘chorus’ as a stylization of the entire community, see PH 5§11 (= p. 142), 12§2 (= p. 339), 12§17 (= pp. 334–345), 12§29 (= pp. 350–351), 12§55 (= pp. 367–368), 12§75 (= pp. 377–378).

[ back ] 79. This theme is evident also in the tragedies of Euripides: see Dué 2006:12 on Trojan Women 582–586; also p. 141 on Trojan Women 474–497; also p. 15 on Hecuba 349–357.

[ back ] 80. Dué 2002:11.

[ back ] 81. PP 99.

[ back ] 82. PP 99–103.

[ back ] 83. On the transmission of the lyric poetry of Sappho and Alcaeus in the context of citharodic performances at the Panathenaia in Athens, see Nagy 2004b; also Nagy 2007b. For a thorough investigation of the citharodic medium of performing monodic songs of Sappho and Alcaeus, see Power 2010.