Levaniouk, Olga. 2011. Eve of the Festival: Making Myth in Odyssey 19. Hellenic Studies Series 46. Washington, DC: Center for Hellenic Studies. http://nrs.harvard.edu/urn-3:hul.ebook:CHS_Levaniouk.Eve_of_the_Festival.2011.
Chapter 9. Eurybates
The final token Odysseus-Aithon gives to Penelope is the description of his herald Eurybates:
καὶ μέν οἱ κῆρυξ ὀλίγον προγενέστερος αὐτοῦ
εἵπετο· καὶ τόν τοι μυθήσομαι, οἷος ἔην περ·
γυρὸς ἐν ὤμοισιν, μελανόχροος, οὐλοκάρηνος,
Εὐρυβάτης δ’ ὄνομ’ ἔσκε· τίεν δέ μιν ἔξοχον ἄλλων
ὧν ἑτάρων Ὀδυσεύς, ὅτι οἱ φρεσὶν ἄρτια ᾔδη.
εἵπετο· καὶ τόν τοι μυθήσομαι, οἷος ἔην περ·
γυρὸς ἐν ὤμοισιν, μελανόχροος, οὐλοκάρηνος,
Εὐρυβάτης δ’ ὄνομ’ ἔσκε· τίεν δέ μιν ἔξοχον ἄλλων
ὧν ἑτάρων Ὀδυσεύς, ὅτι οἱ φρεσὶν ἄρτια ᾔδη.
(Odyssey 19.244–248)
And a herald, a little older than himself,
came along with him. I will tell you about him, what sort of a person he was.
He was round-shouldered, dark-skinned, with wooly hair,
and his name was Eurybates. Odysseus valued him above
his other companions, because they thought alike.
came along with him. I will tell you about him, what sort of a person he was.
He was round-shouldered, dark-skinned, with wooly hair,
and his name was Eurybates. Odysseus valued him above
his other companions, because they thought alike.
Like everything else in this conversation, the mention of Eurybates has its share of complications and unsolved puzzles. All three adjectives describing the herald are Homeric hapaxes, which means we are ill-positioned to evaluate their effect. Overall, Eurybates has struck commentators as physically unattractive, though possibly concealing an “inner excellence” behind his “un-heroic” façade. [1] This impression seems to be primarily created by the herald’s rounded shoulders, a characteristic which is also present, in grotesque form, in Thersites:
φολκὸς ἔην, χωλὸς δ’ ἕτερον πόδα· τὼ δέ οἱ ὤμω
κυρτὼ ἐπὶ στῆθος συνοχωκότε· αὐτὰρ ὕπερθε
φοξὸς ἔην κεφαλήν, ψεδνὴ δ’ ἐπενήνοθε λάχνη.
κυρτὼ ἐπὶ στῆθος συνοχωκότε· αὐτὰρ ὕπερθε
φοξὸς ἔην κεφαλήν, ψεδνὴ δ’ ἐπενήνοθε λάχνη.
(Iliad 2.217–219) {154|155}
He was bandy-legged and lame in one foot. His shoulders were arched,
coming together over his chest. And above,
his head was deformed, with sparse hair.
coming together over his chest. And above,
his head was deformed, with sparse hair.
It is doubtful that this comparison is justified. The adjective used of Thersites’ shoulders is kurtos, and it regularly describes humped backs such as that of a camel, a bull rearing for attack, and, above all, of hunchbacks. [2] Since Thersites’ shoulders come together over his chest and go together with a limp and sparse hair, there can be little doubt that he is far removed from any conventional notions of beauty or fitness. In contrast, guros is not conventionally used to describe humps and has no associations with deformity. Eurybates’ shoulders are curved or rounded, but it is not even clear whether this is good or bad, or either. His other features, dark skin and wooly hair, are equally hard to place. Some have thought that this combination suggests an African type, but this seems unlikely. [3] As Irwin has shown, melas is often used to describe the tanned skin of males who spend much time in the sun, and there is no reason to think that it means anything different here. [4] In fact, though there is no exact match elsewhere for Eurybates’ physical characteristics, the person whom he comes closest to resembling is in fact Odysseus, and Odysseus at his best. When Athena restores Odysseus’ youth, once for Nausikaa and once for Penelope, the hero acquires dense hair described in terms reminiscent of that of Eurybates (οὔλας ἧκε κόμας, ‘let down wooly hair’ Odyssey 6.231 = 23.153), and when Odysseus regains his normal appearance to reunite with Telemachus, he becomes dark-skinned (ἂψ δὲ μελαγχροιὴς γένετο, ‘he became dark-skinned again’ 16.175). Since Odysseus in these scenes is certainly meant to be handsome, young, and strong, it seems doubtful whether Eurybates is indeed such an unattractive, Thersites-like character as he is sometimes thought to be. Indeed, in view of the similarities in skin and hair between Eurybates and Odysseus, it seems noteworthy that in the Teikhoskopia when Priam looks at the Achaeans from the wall of Troy and describes Agamemnon, Odysseus, and Ajax, he mentions Odysseus’ wide shoulders:
μείων μὲν κεφαλῇ Ἀγαμέμνονος Ἀτρεΐδαο,
εὐρύτερος δ’ ὤμοισιν ἰδὲ στέρνοισιν ἰδέσθαι.
εὐρύτερος δ’ ὤμοισιν ἰδὲ στέρνοισιν ἰδέσθαι.
(Iliad 3.194–195) {155|156}
Shorter by a head than Agamemnon son of Atreus,
but in appearance broader in shoulders and chest.
but in appearance broader in shoulders and chest.
Eurybates is presumably less heroic-looking than Odysseus, but they do resemble each other. On balance, I wonder whether γυρὸς ἐν ὤμοισι in Odyssey 19 does not mean something like ‘with bulging shoulders’, a feature that is not necessarily handsome, but indicative of physical aptitude. If so, Eurybates may be reminiscent of the short and bow-legged warrior praised in Archilochus fr. 114. [5] In any case, Eurybates’ physical similarity to Odysseus is matched by their apparent trust and mental accord, which leads Odysseus to value the herald above his other companions. The mental qualities of Eurybates are described as ἄρτια ᾔδη (19.248), ‘he thought things in accordance with him’. [6] The only other time this expression is used in Homer it applies to Diomedes’ trusty companion, Deipylos. On that occasion too, Diomedes is said to value Deipylos above the rest of his age group (Iliad 5.325–326). Eurybates, then, seems to be a kind of Odysseus-double, both because of their shared physical characteristics and because of their intellectual cohesion.
In this connection it is tempting to speculate on the possible implications of the name Eurybates. The name should mean something like ‘wide-ranging’ or ‘wide-striding’, (from εὐρύ and βαίνω), and may be a generic name for a herald, since Agamemnon’s herald in the Iliad is also so named (Iliad 2.320). Agamemnon’s second herald, Talthybios, certainly has a life beyond Homer, since he had a hero precinct (ἱρόν) in Sparta, where the Talthybiadai were a family (or possibly a guild) of heralds. [7] The name Eurybates, however, has a different set of associations outside of Homer. According to Aristotle, Eurybatos or Eurybates of Aegina was a particularly successful thief who escaped from captivity under the pretence of demonstrating to his drunken guards how he used to get into houses (he scrambles over the wall using goads and sponges). [8] Another Eurybatos mentioned in literature is a native of Ephesos, but he shares with his Aegenitan namesake an inclination to cheat: when Croesus sends him to Delphi with a supply of gold in order to negotiate with the Greeks, he instead defects to Cyrus (and presumably keeps the {156|157} gold). [9] This second Eurybatos is presented as a historical character, but this may be a deceptive appearance. Eustathius mentions that there are even more Eurybatoi, and that they are all πανοῦργοι, which certainly does not inspire any confidence in their historicity, but does suggest that the name, at least in its second-declension form, had strong and clear associations with trickery and deception. In fact, the name Eurybatos apparently became proverbial for a knave relatively early on. Already Aristophanes calls Zeus ‘Eurybatos’ on account of the god’s multiple affairs and shapeshifting aimed at eluding Hera’s wifely anger. [10] A learned poet such as Euphorion apparently knew many various Eurybatoi. [11] One of the more interesting, and certainly mythological, bearers of the name is one of the two brothers collectively called the Kerkopes, famous as robbers and liars. This is important because the stories about them are likely to be quite early, since they are widely represented in visual arts from the early sixth century onwards. [12] The early representations mostly show Herakles carrying the two Kerkopes on a pole over his shoulder: the captured thieves are hanging upside-down, one from each end of the pole. The representation seems to refer to a story that is fully attested only in much later sources, to the effect that the Kerkopes are warned to watch out for a Melampygos, (‘black-bottomed one’), attempt to steal Herakles’ armor, are captured, and then make jokes, as they are hanging upside-down on the pole, about Herakles’ hairy bottom, which they only now recognize as their warning sign. Amused by the teasing of the Kerkopes, Herakles laughs and lets them go. [13] Herodotus is aware of the Kerkopes and appears to locate them near Thermopylae, where he mentions ‘the rock of the Melampygos and the haunts {157|158} of the Kerkopes’. [14] Diotimus locates their activity in the same part of Greece, namely in Boeotia:
Κέρκωπές τοι πολλὰ κατὰ τριόδους πατέοντες
Βοιωτῶν σίνοντο· γένος δ’ ἔσαν Οἰχαλιῆες,
Ὦλός τ’ Εὐρύβατός τε, δύω βαρυδαίμονες ἄνδρες.
Βοιωτῶν σίνοντο· γένος δ’ ἔσαν Οἰχαλιῆες,
Ὦλός τ’ Εὐρύβατός τε, δύω βαρυδαίμονες ἄνδρες.
(Ἡρακλέους Ἆθλα = Supplementum Hellenisticum, fr. 394)
The Kerkopes used to maraud constantly, trampling through the crossroads
of the Boeotians. In origin they were from Oikhalia,
Olos and Eurybatos, two luckless men.
of the Boeotians. In origin they were from Oikhalia,
Olos and Eurybatos, two luckless men.
Later sources, however, picture them near Ephesos, and say that it was there that Herakles captured them (Apollodorus 2.6.3, Diodorus 4.31.7). There is no mention of the ‘black-bottomed one’ in those accounts that place the Kerkopes in Asia Minor. Since some of the Ephesian population derived from Boeotia and Thessaly it is quite possible that they brought the story of Kerkopes and Herakles with them and transferred it to their environment. In any case, the story is attested in Asia Minor, mainland Greece, and Italy, in the latter two regions as early as the sixth century. Harpocration even mentions poetry about the Kerkopes ascribed to Homer:
ἐν τοῖς εἰς
Ὅμηρον ἀναφερομένοις Κέρκωψιν δηλοῦται ὡς ἐξαπατητῆρές τε ἦσαν
καὶ ψεῦσται οἱ Κέρκωπες.
(Harpocration s.v. Κέρκωψ)
In the Kerkopes, attributed to Homer, it is said that the Kerkopes were deceivers and cheats.
Given this wide and early distribution it is not surprising to find several versions of the myth, including the names of the rascally brothers. Aeschines, for example, gives the names Andoulos and Atlantos, while the Suda gives Passalos (‘peg’) and Akmon (‘anvil’) – both sexual puns – among others. [15]
Still, there are features of the Kerkopes which seem to go well with the name Eurybates. In anonymous verses cited by Pausanias (the Atticist), the Kerkopes are said to do precisely what is indicated by their name, wander and cover large distances: {158|159}
ψεύστας, ἠπεροπῆας, ἀμήχανά τ’ ἔργ’ ἐάσαντας,
ἐξαπατητῆρας· πολλὴν δ’ ἐπὶ γαῖαν ἰόντες
ἀνθρώπους ἀπάτασκον, ἀλώμενοι ἤματα πάντα.
ἐξαπατητῆρας· πολλὴν δ’ ἐπὶ γαῖαν ἰόντες
ἀνθρώπους ἀπάτασκον, ἀλώμενοι ἤματα πάντα.
(Pausanias s.v. Κέρκωπες)
. . . liars, cheats, deceivers, enablers of irremediable deeds.
Traveling over a large territory,
they used to deceive people, roaming all the time.
Traveling over a large territory,
they used to deceive people, roaming all the time.
Similarly, Diotimus presents them as wandering robbers (κατὰ τριόδους πατέοντες, ‘trampling over the crossroads’ fr. 393).
It is obvious that Kerkopes have certain features that align them with Odysseus. Although the Odyssey, of course, presents an elevated picture of its hero, he, like the Kerkopes, has a definite comic potential, not entirely ignored even in Homer. Like Odysseus, they are famous for telling lies, wander in search of gain, and use their wits to escape from captivity. In this, both Odysseus and the Kerkopes are also similar to the Aeginetan Eurybates, who escapes from prison. The Kerkopes are especially reminiscent of Odysseus’ grandfather Autolykos, famous for theft and perjury, and Eustathius mentions both Sisyphus and Autolykos as rivals of the Kerkopes in deceit. [16] Although the name of Odysseus’ herald is Eurybates rather than Eurybatos, the difference in declension would probably not erase the relevant connotations. The Suda, at any rate, glosses Eurybatos as poneros and proceeds to list possible sources of this meaning, including the Aeginetan thief, the Ephesian traitor, and, with reference to Douris, the companion of Odysseus.
It is impossible to say when the association between the name Eurybatos or Eurybates and the notion of villainy and deceit arises, but it is quite possible that it forms early enough to be active in the Odyssey. Granted, we hear nothing of any particular lawlessness on the part of Odysseus’ herald or indeed of that of Agamemnon, who has the same name. Both appear in the Iliad strictly as heralds and seem to perform their function without incident. Moreover, heralds, like wanderers, have to walk a lot, so that the name Eurybates fits a herald as well as it does a traveling thief. Yet if the name Eurybates was associated with villainy at an early date, then a companion who is particularly close to Odysseus could hardly bear that name without evoking that association. Eurybates is a man after Odysseus’ own heart more than anyone else of his companions, and such a man is unlikely to be an honest simpleton. {159|160}
There can be no certainty in such matters, but it seems possible that by describing Eurybates, a character physically resembling Odysseus himself and close to him in mentality, Aithon-Odysseus reminds Penelope of the transgressive qualities of her husband, whose long absence from home does, after all, involve plunder, lies, arrogant looting, and tricky escapes from captivity. This is what Odysseus is like when he sets out for Troy. Even the name of Odysseus can be taken to indicate not only the suffering the hero endures, but also the harm he causes others, through the Homeric folk-etymology, which derives it from ὀδύσσομαι, ‘to be angry with, hate’. Autolykos gives the infant Odysseus a name designed to recollect the anger his own thefts and deceits inspire in his victims:
πολλοῖσιν γὰρ ἐγώ γε ὀδυσσάμενος τόδ’ ἱκάνω,
ἀνδράσιν ἠδὲ γυναιξὶν ἀνὰ χθόνα βωτιάνειραν.
ἀνδράσιν ἠδὲ γυναιξὶν ἀνὰ χθόνα βωτιάνειραν.
(Odyssey 19.407–408) [17]
For I come here hated by many
all over the man-feeding earth, both men and women.
all over the man-feeding earth, both men and women.
Perhaps some similar notions contribute to Diotimus’ choice of adjective to describe the Kerkopes, βαρυδαίμονες, a word that usually means ‘of ill luck’ rather than ‘bringing ill luck to others’, as might be expected of robbers. Like the cloak and the pin, the description of the herald seems to say much about Odysseus and the nature of his absence and return, suggesting both the reasons he might be somewhere in unknown trouble and the likelihood that he will extricate himself.
Finally, if the mention of Eurybates indeed carries some of the connotations suggested above, then the next question is how such connotations would fit in with the general tone of Odysseus’ Third Cretan Lie and also with {160|161} the setting of Apollo’s festival. Is Eurybates a character particularly suitable to evoke the figure of absent Odysseus and therefore the stage in Odysseus’ life that is marked by wandering and transgression and that comes to its end and culmination with Apollo’s festival? On the verge of reclaiming his place as a king, on the eve of the festival, Odysseus in the period leading up to this moment of crisis hints at what he has been and is. On Ithaca he is first and foremost a king, and yet he also has been, and is, a hungry and vengeful wanderer, a younger brother struggling for his place in the world, and a youthful hunter. Perhaps a clever wandering looter and acquisitive transgressor should be added to the list. That all Odysseus’ looting, both at Troy and in Cyclops’ cave, does nothing to enrich him, while his lasting acquisitions are gained peacefully as gifts from the Phaeacians, is a different matter. The point remains that Odysseus is certainly not averse to looting on his travels, though perhaps there is a difference here between his youthful and his older self.
It would be too simplistic to suggest that Odysseus follows the paradigmatic path through adolescence to maturity as outlined by Vidal-Naquet in his influential work on the black hunter. [18] The actual situation in the Odyssey is much more complex, since Odysseus’ actual growing up and becoming Odysseus is telescoped into his re-becoming Odysseus, and since there seems to be a cyclical element in Odysseus’ departures and returns (he is, after all, forced to leave Ithaca again after the end of the Odyssey), an element that does not fit into the linear progression from childhood to adulthood, though it does fit well with the idea of dissolution and restoration. Yet the Odyssey certainly taps into the mythological themes that Vidal-Naquet connects to the figure of the black hunter, and taps into them very deeply. The activities and ideas associated with Greek adolescence include hunting, use of deception and stealth, use of the bow, abnormal sexuality, and lack of participation in political life, i.e. separation from the social group. Most of these features apply to Odysseus during his period of wandering, except for the bow, which on Ithaca stands for the opposite of what it does in Vidal-Naquet’s scheme: legitimate kingship and full manhood, rather than the liminality of adolescence. The trickery and knavery that might be associated with Eurybates may not carry any specifically initiatory meaning, since these qualities are permanent features of Odysseus. At the same time, Odysseus himself is liable to become an initiatory kind of a figure, and perhaps these qualities are part of what is involved. A recent critique of the black hunter model demonstrates how unconvincing it can be when applied to a particular work of poetry, and Vidal-Naquet’s own {161|162} attempt to analyze Neoptolemus in Sophocles’ Philoctetes as a typical initiand is certainly open to objections. [19] Yet the problems may be caused not by defects of the model but by attempts to use it reductively, as the primary (or only) vehicle for interpreting the play. In the course of criticizing Vidal-Naquet’s arguments regarding Neoptolemus, one scholar observes that another character in the same play seems to be a better example of the black hunter. That character is Odysseus, who, in the play, “obeys authority unquestioningly, pursues a quarry in the wilderness that he intends to master through deception, and seeks military victory through the use of the non-hoplite bow” and, outside of the play, “is characterized by a recurrent rejection of marriage along with nearly unrestricted sexual activity,” all of which makes him “the most perfect example of the black hunter in Greek mythology.” [20] The scholar who so describes Odysseus sees this as the downfall of the black hunter model, since it seems arbitrary and nearly nonsensical for another character instead of the supposed initiand Neoptolemus to exhibit these qualities, and since, not being an adolescent, Odysseus does not seem to be a fitting candidate for them. This may indeed be so within Sophocles’ play, and it may well be true that the initiation model is not helpful for the play’s interpretation. In general, however, Odysseus is a very fitting candidate indeed for a role such as the black hunter not because he is literally an adolescent, but because it is his specific quality as a hero to forever go through an adolescence-like process. For this, Eurybates seems to be a suitable companion.
As I have argued above, the name Eurybates is a fitting one not only for a herald but also for an all-penetrating rogue, and there may indeed be a link between these two occupations. So far, I have been treating the two options as distinct, but they may not be so. The two functions, being a herald and being a thief, may seem unrelated, but they are in fact united in the figure of Hermes, a god who is both a messenger and a rogue and who, in both functions, has to do with the crossing of boundaries. This is perhaps not so surprising, since any go-between is liable to be unreliable and has a ready-made opportunity for skullduggery. I have already had a chance to comment on the similarities between the epithets of Hermes in the Homeric Hymn, which has to do with the god’s growing up, and Odysseus’ epithets in Homer, as well as on the more general similarities between the journeys of Odysseus and Hermes. To this overarching similarity can be added the special relationship with Hermes enjoyed by Odysseus’ thievish grandfather Autolykos and the latter’s actual {162|163} descent from Hermes in non-Homeric sources. [21] Further, Hermes helps Odysseus in his wanderings when the hero has to confront one dangerous female (Circe) and escape from another one (Calypso). This role too is suitable for Hermes as the patron of young males, since Hermes sometimes appears as a lover of Aphrodite, and it has been suggested that in such depictions the two gods function as patrons of sexuality rather than marriage and oversee the young men’s premarital introduction to sex. [22] It is in this role that Hermes appears in the Odyssey when he helps Odysseus to withstand Circe’s charms and share her bed. Moreover, Hermes is also a fast runner and later a patron of gymnasia and athletic competitions, especially those of adolescents, and I have argued that this quality is shared by Odysseus. [23] It is at the Hermaia at Pellene that young males earned their cloaks. There are, to sum up, multiple elements that have to do with male maturation and are typical both of Hermes and of Odysseus. In these circumstances, the hero’s special proximity to a herald named Eurybates contributes to his Hermes-like aspect. Finally, I come back to the peculiar fact that Eurybates appears both in the Odyssey and in the Iliad in connection with Odysseus’ cloak. The scene in Iliad 2 where Odysseus casts off his cloak and Eurybates picks it up has already been mentioned. Various scholars have found that this scene resonates with the Odyssey, in particular in Book 14, where Odysseus tells Eumaeus his ‘blameless ainos’ about a cloak. [24] The co-occurrence of Eurybates and the cloak suggest that a dialogic relationship exists also between that scene in Iliad 2 and Odyssey 19. In the Odyssey, Odysseus recalls his old cloak and attempts to gain a new one. In the Iliad, in contrast, he flings the cloak away as he runs. In Odyssey 14, he tells Eumaeus a lying tale about how he went into ambush without a cloak and acquired one with Odysseus’ help. In this version of the Iliadic ambush, Odysseus himself has a cloak and helps the speaker acquire one. This story has a point of contact with the Doloneia, the only extended ambush-narrative in the Iliad, and, curiously, here it is Odysseus, like the pseudo-Cretan of Odyssey 14, who sets out with a shield, but without a cloak (Iliad 10.149). Observing this correspondence, Muellner poses the question: “Is epic too unsophisticated for a cross-reference here in the Odyssey to another version of this tale in which Odysseus himself needed a χλαῖνα?” [25] After surveying the evidence, Clay inclines toward {163|164} the possibility of “such subtle cross-referencing.” [26] A further question might be whether or not going into an ambush without a cloak is in fact a repeated and therefore recognizable element of such tales, in which case it too could have connotations and meanings which may or may not be recoverable by us. As it is, the Iliad, for Odysseus, seems to be for losing or not having his cloak, while the Odyssey is for wearing and regaining it. Anyone, of course, can throw away a cloak and run, and running presupposes getting rid of the cloak for the simple reason that it impedes movement. Yet we do not see Nestor or Idomeneus running and undressing, and the action, while natural, seems to be particularly suited to swift-footed youths. References to people dashing off without their clothes in later literature, including a supposedly real-life example in Lysias 3, involve mostly adolescents (meirakion in Lysias 3.12 and 3.35, neaniskos in Gospel of Mark 14.51–52). On Skheria, by contrast, Odysseus does not run, and retains his cloak even while participating in athletic competitions. On Ithaca, where he is a king, he used to wear a cloak matched only by Nestor’s (double, purple, and with a pin). It seems, in short, that Odysseus undergoes a development from the Ithacan king to the pseudo-adolescent figure of the Iliad, and then in a long and torturous way back to being the king on Ithaca. In a subtle way, Odysseus’ mention of Eurybates in connection with the cloak seems to allude to this trajectory. Even the fact that Eurybates is identified as ‘the Ithacan one’ in Iliad 2 contributes to this impression: it is as if Odysseus’ cloak (the one given by Penelope, perhaps) properly belongs in an Ithacan context, and so is picked up by the Ithacan herald. [27] In Odyssey 19, having played his Hermes-like role and traveled along his ‘long road’, Odysseus is about to get his cloak back and fully establish himself as man and a king at a festival of Apollo.
Just as Penelope’s melting in tears at the beginning of her dialogue with Odysseus is both an immediate reaction to what Odysseus has said and a token of larger developments in the poem (whether or not it is so interpreted by Penelope herself and Odysseus), so the signs Aithon-Odysseus gives his wife are rich with layers of meaning. Ostensibly, the description of the clothes and the herald serves to prove that the Cretan stranger did indeed meet Odysseus long ago. Implicitly, but still close to the surface, the same signs suggest that {164|165} the stranger actually is Odysseus. Beyond this immediate purpose, the signs carry a wealth of connotations and hint at Odysseus’ past, his identity as a hero, and the nature of his return. These allusions, some strong and clear, some remote and faint, activate a broad associative network and contribute to the highly charged atmosphere on the eve of Apollo’s festival. The festival is both an end to the period of dissolution and an occasion marking the growing up of a new generation, and both these events can be thought of using the traditional vocabulary of themes, (such as hunt, cloak, dogs), and characters, (such as Hermes, Ino, Aktaion), evoked in the Odyssey. Odysseus’ signs for Penelope are fitted not only to the knowledge shared by the couple, but also to the poetic environment in which they are given: they both serve to (re)create the occasion of the festival within the poem and derive some of their meaning from this fictional occasion. The scope and meaning of each association may be variable, and no doubt much is irretrievable for us, but it seems likely that the combined effect of Odysseus’ allusions would have been felt by the poem’s audiences, at least to the extent that it contributed to the recognizable atmosphere of the festival’s eve and to the rich and densely traditional texture of Odyssean poetry. {165|}
Footnotes
[ back ] 1. Russo 1992:90 ad loc.
[ back ] 2. See LSJ s.v.
[ back ] 3. See Snowden 1970:101–102, 122, 181, Russo 1992:90 ad loc.
[ back ] 4. Irwin 1974:112–116, 129–135.
[ back ] 5. The two are compared by Russo 1992:90 and 1974:139–52.
[ back ] 6. As rendered by LSJ s.v. ἄρτιος A.1, with reference to Iliad 5.326 and Odyssey 19.248.
[ back ] 7. Herodotus 7.134.
[ back ] 8. Aristotle fr. 84 Rose. The same story is retold in various sources, e.g. Suda s.v. Εὐρύβατος, Eustathius on Odyssey 19.247, Aristaenetus Epistulae 1.20.
[ back ] 9. Ephorus FGrH 70 F 58a, Diodorus Siculus 9.31.3, Michael Apostolius Paroemiographer, Collectio paroemiarum 8.11.2 = Aristotle fr. 84, Suda s.v. Εὐρύβατος, Constantinus Porphyrogenitus De virtutibus et vitiis 57.
[ back ] 10. Aristophanes fr. 184 (Daidalos 1).
[ back ] 11. Euphorion fr. 83, Ἠδ’ ὅσσα προτέροισιν ἀείδεται Εὐρυβάτοισιν. The fragment is hard to interpret since we lack any further context.
[ back ] 12. Visual representations of the Kerkopes far antedate literary mentions. The early examples include a (probably) Middle Corinthian cup from Perachora (Athens, National Museum, Perachora 2542, LIMC Kerkopes 1, Perachora II, 262–263, no. 2542, pl.106, 110, Amyx 1988:565), two Corinthian pinakes, probably also of the early sixth century (Berlin Ch F766, F767, LIMC Kerkopes 10), a shield-band from Olympia, ca. 575–550 BCE (B 975, LIMC Kerkopes 14), and metopes from Foce del Sele (about 550 BCE, Paestum, Museo Nazionale, LIMC Kerkopes 11) and Temple C at Selinous (about 540–530 BCE, Palermo, Mus. Reg. 3920, LIMC Kerkopes 12).
[ back ] 13. Suda s.v. Kerkopes, Pseudo-Nonnus, Scholia mythologica 4.39.6. Apollodorus mentions that the Kerkopes were captured by Herakles but gives little detail (2.6.3). He locates them in Ephesos. Diodorus Siculus also locates them in Asia Minor and says that Herakles killed some of them and brought others to Omphale (4.31.7).
[ back ] 14. Herodotus 7.216.
[ back ] 15. Harpocration s.v. Κέρκωψ (citing Aeschines), Suda s.v. Κέρκωπες.
[ back ] 16. Eustathius 2.202 (on Odyssey 19.247).
[ back ] 17. The question whether Odysseus’ name should be taken in active or passive sense (hater or hated, bringing pain or feeling pain) is an old one (the scholion V at 19.407 glosses odyssamenos both as μισηθείς and as βλάψας). Stanford (1952:209–213) argues for a coexistence of the active and the passive sense. Rank believes that both “the hater” and “the hated” are possible meanings of Odysseus’ name, but that the first predominates (1951:51–65). More recently, scholars have favored the notion of balance between the active and passive meanings, Odysseus as both “victim and victimizer” (Clay 1983:64) and explored the resulting ironies. For a discussion of this question see Clay 1983:54–64, Peradotto 1990. In his two-way relationship with suffering, as in many other aspects, Odysseus is similar to Herakles. Nagy (1990:13–14) comments on dictional similarities between the Homeric Hymn to Herakles (5–6) and the proem of the Odyssey (1.1–4). In the Hymn, Herakles is said both to commit and to suffer many reckless deeds (atasthala). Arguably, the same can be said about Odysseus, though the Odyssey foregrounds the suffering of Odysseus and the recklessness of his crew and the suitors.
[ back ] 18. Vidal-Naquet 1983:106–156.
[ back ] 19. Dodd 2003. For another recent critique of Vidal-Naquet see Polinskaya 2003.
[ back ] 20. Dodd 2003:74.
[ back ] 21. Pherecydes FGrH 3 F 120 (FHG 1.63b).
[ back ] 22. Marinatos 2003:145–148.
[ back ] 23. Hermes’ epithet ἐριούνιος (folk-etymologized in antiquity as ‘beneficial’) is derived from the root of οὖνος, ‘running course’, and means ‘good runner’.
[ back ] 24. See pp111, 131, above.
[ back ] 25. Muellner 1976:96n43.
[ back ] 26. Clay 1983:87.
[ back ] 27. It could be argued that Eurybates is here identified as the Ithacan one in order to distinguish him from Agamemnon’s herald with the same name, but this, while plausible, does not preclude other considerations and effects. Moreover, in Iliad 9 Eurybates the herald is mentioned without any further comment, so that it is actually not clear whose herald he is and nothing is done to resolve the ambiguity there (Iliad 9.170).