Steadfast in a Multiform Tradition: émpedos and asphalḗs in Homer and Beyond

The word émpedos seems to offer connotations of being rooted in the ground (as indicated by the root ῥιζ-) and fixed along what we might understand as a horizontal plane, while asphalḗs can carry with it connotations of things not tripped up and secure along a vertical plane.

During this critical moment marked by a conjunction of fire and fear, Cyrus has realized that human fortune is, by its very nature, unstable and variable. In fact, Cyrus’ story offers Herodotus a chance to relate the rise and fall of individual fortunes to his own thoughts about the waxing and waning of entire cities.

Human prosperity, whether associated with a single man or an entire city, is predictably unstable, and this truth is a significant influence on the composition of the Histories. Herodotus points towards this knowledge as a reason for his particular editorial stance and the inclusion of multiformity within his own narrative. As evidenced by the prooimium, Herodotus’ inquiry is meant to counteract the perishable nature of greatness and associated fame:

In fact, these authoritative statements lead almost directly into the frightening oracles and the debate about what they might mean. For the purposes of our discussion here, we will limit our attention to the first. Surprisingly, given what Herodotus has just told us about how Athens saved Greece, the oracle explicitly tells the Athenians not to remain steadfast.

These lines provide an explicit contrast between the steadfast nature of aretḗ ‘excellence’ and the variability of possessions. The Homeric tradition offers its own solutions for the instability of human affairs through its poetic techniques, themes and diction. One particularly effective technique is the Homeric simile. In his study of Homeric metaphor, Leonard Muellner describes the power of Homeric similes to portray ephemeral events in an imperishable way.

Such a reading marks metaphors as crucial to a discussion of the poetry of steadfastness.

There are several points to be made regarding the themes and diction of these lines. First, the scholia for line 618 gloss the word purgēdón with the words asphalôs and puknôs, thereby equating ménon émpedon “firmly remaining” with these two terms. Second, it should be noted that the Greeks remain steadfast by arranging themselves into a sort of human wall and that this action is described by the word ἀρηρότες, built from the root *ar-. This root means ‘fit, join’ and appears in words traditionally used to express the work of carpenters and poets. [26] The word puknôs is the adverbial form of puknós, an adjective used to describe subjects that are dense and overlapping either in physical terms or in frequency. Like émpedos, it can appropriately describe a range of subjects including the construction of a stone wall and phrénes. It can even describe a special kind of speech, as attested by the phrase pukinòn épos, which becomes “unassailable” in the mind of the listener. [27] We might also note that the Vedic tradition reveals an association between carpenters and firmness. For instance the White Yajur Veda includes evidence that those seeking firmness would metaphorically sacrifice a carpenter. [28] Taken together, this evidence shows that the phrase ménon émpedon can denote a condition in which a group of men are joined together in a manner similar to the way a carpenter or poet fits together his work. In each case the result is conceived as being physically dense and potentially enduring in both space and time. Furthermore, we can see that this act of standing firm is traditionally contrasted with fear and running away.

Despite their original success, the Achaeans can only stand firm against Hector until their minds and spirits are overcome with fear Like the oracle given to the Athenians, these similes explicitly contrast shaken minds and flight (phébonto 15.622) with remaining steadfast (ménon émpedon 15.622). In fact, this passage features many words and themes that appeared in the oracle, including fire, fear, shaking, as well as a reference to the thūmós of those affected. The Greeks are compared to sailors whose minds (φρένα, 15.627) are overcome because they are afraid (δειδιότες 15.628) and shaking (τρομέουσι 15.627). This contrast makes perfect sense when we consider that phobéomai is from the root *bhegh– meaning ‘run’. [29] This contrast can also be seen in the Vedic tradition through the formulaic descriptions of Indra. In the Rig Veda he is twice called the god before whom “everything firm is afraid.” [30] Thus, overcome by fear, the steep cliff of the Greeks proves temporary. It is transformed and metaphorically falls, hidden and trembling, under the waves in the form of a ship just two lines later.

Like all Homeric metaphors this passage, which equates Hector with the stalled boulder, is packed with meaning. On one level these lines reflect Hector’s larger fate within the Iliad; like the boulder rolling down the hill only to run out of energy before it reaches the ocean, Hector will run steadfastly (θέει ἔμπεδον) but stop before reaching his goal of destroying the ships and saving Troy. In fact Achilles is described by Pindar in just such terms as ὃς Ἕκτορα σφᾶλε, “the one who tripped up Hector” (Olympian Ode 2.81).

The occurrence of λάθῃσι ‘is unseen’ and οὐ λῆθε ‘not escaping notice’ shows that mental focus can be crucial to remaining steadfastly in motion and on the proper track, just as it was crucial for remaining steadfastly and defensively fixed in battle. Moreover, this passage echoes the previous example of théei émpedon at 13.141 and, in doing so, shows a transition of the diction of steadfastness from Hector to Achilles. Yet it is notable that in both similes Hector is equated with the object set in motion which eventually falters. Here it is the fawn; previously it was the boulder. I would argue that these similes, in a sense, create a relationship between Hector as the fixed stone on the ground and Hector as the doomed fawn cowering beneath a bush. On a metaphoric level the fixed stone becomes an unmistakable and immovable *émpedon sêma (gravestone) for Hector and an eternal and sure *émpedon sêma (sign) of Achilles’ superior glory. The phrase théei émpedon will reappear in the Odyssey at a crucial moment to be discussed later, and that moment will once again feature the importance of mental focus.

There are several relevant points to be made about this diction. First, the line terminal phrase asphalès aieí (with asphalés in the 10b position) collocates with émpedon in the phrase émpedon asphalès aieí seen at Iliad 15.683. It also partially matches the description of Odysseus on the island of Calypso: ménon émpedon heímata d’ aieí (with émpedon in the 8b position). [38] The parallels between these lines suggest that the line terminal phrases asphalès aieí and émpedon + ̅ ˘˘+aieí are formulaic.

The first lines of the cosmogony express this teleological perspective by immediately pointing forward to a challenged but secure Olympian order, one which does not yet exist in the mythical time of the narrative. [43]

This hymn makes explicit a relationship of reciprocal firmness and stability between gods, poet, and king. Moreover, the repeated use of the word dhruvám makes clear the importance of the diction of steadfastness in bringing about the desired stability. My sense is that forms of asphalḗs and émpedos can serve as semantic reflexes of this traditional diction within the ancient Greek poetic tradition.

I draw special attention to this line because it provides additional insight into the meaning of émpedos. By using émpedos to describe the birth of animals—a process which is sequential and seasonal—the poetic tradition may be signaling not just prosperity, but prosperity through appropriately timed and uninterrupted sequence. This is relevant to our discussion of the Theogony since, as Muellner has shown, the theme of interrupted vs. uninterrupted births and generations is one of the primary narrative concerns of Hesiod’s cosmogony. [50] And as already discussed, issues of interrupted sequence are evident in the structure of the prooimion. However, after the Muses breathe inspiration into him, the poet within the Theogony ends the verbal stumbling apparent in the starting and stopping of the prooimion and finally begins the appropriately sequenced story. With this public demonstration, the poet in the here and now of the performance proves his competence and divine support.

Like the Muses who pass on the power to keep things émpeda, Gaia is capable of passing on her ability as well. Yet it is the poet who actually confers this epithet upon Ouranos. By transferring the formula from Earth to Heaven perhaps the poet reveals that he is equal to Gaia in the capacity to make equals.

Certainly Gaia and Ouranos are not eradicated after Ouranos’ castration. Their later actions prove vital to the establishment of Zeus’ kingship. Though overthrown, Ouranos is still present and visible in the mythic world. This former king, like the Achaean wall, may no longer be asphalḗs, though he might still be labeled émpedos.

Olympus is asphalḗs, at least in part, by virtue of its supernatural environment. Despite the epithet “snowy Olympus” this special location reserved for the immortals provides an atmosphere that is always pleasing.

Though not an exact repetition, this line offers the same basic idea—that the seat of divine authority is steadfast both in time and along a vertical axis of superiority. This use is highly appropriate to the argument being offered for the separation between gods and men. While both gods and men originated with the earth, the immortals were able to move higher and can claim heaven as a secure seat of power. This variant does not include an explicit reference to another tradition or authority through the use of φασί. That multiform seems to be traditionally associated with Olympus. Instead, the poetic tradition chooses to express the underlying idea behind the formula directly.

So Selene is associated with the proper timing, continual sequence, and fulfillment of everything in the natural world, and it is in this context that she is praised. Selene is also given many names including Hekate at line 2812, and she is worshiped for her multiform nature:

She is also worshiped as subduer and subdued: ‘Δαμνώ, Δαμνομέ-/νεια· Δαμασάνδρα· Δαμνοδαμία (2844–2845). This multiform moon goddess in chains is steadfast in every way. She is securely steadfast in her bonds, kinetically steadfast in her movement and multiformity, and completely steadfast in her course and uninterrupted sequence. [61] Fittingly, her power and authority involve steadiness. Furthermore, the gift of a scepter—the traditional symbol of kingship and authority—grants her the power and authority to keep everything émpeda and its ornamentation seems key to this potency. [62]

My translation of émpedos as “continual and ritually appropriate” may at first seem unjustified, but over the course of this subsection I hope to show that this is in fact the case. The diction is striking and should be taken seriously given that Calypso has offered to make Odysseus immortal (Odyssey 7.256–257). Pindar’s 10th Pythian Ode provides additional evidence of émpedos used in the context of worshiping a god. In that ode, the poet tells us that Apollo delights endlessly and appropriately (émpedon) in the feasts of the Hyperboreans (34–36). Apollo’s continual and appropriate pleasure suggests that the honors given to him were themselves émpedos.

The term émpedon offers useful connotations here on several levels. First, the idea of being émpedos highlights the physical steadfastness of the altars. Second, émpedon can be seen as signaling both the frequency and the perpetual nature of the offerings. Finally, the word émpedos is particularly appropriate to this pair since they offer an important example of the Indo-European twin myth. [64] Douglas Frame has shown that this myth generally pairs a mortal warrior with an immortal horseman. As shown in the next section, asphalḗs and émpedos are traditionally associated with these roles, these twins, and the nexus of twin-myth themes—especially the crucially important word nóstos, which denotes the idea of homecoming but also conveys the idea ‘return to light and life’. [65] In fact, the use of émpedos to describe the cult of Castor and Polydeuces is particularly appropriate given the details of their myth. The Odyssey tells us that the earth holds them alive and they endlessly alternate between the living and the dead (Odyssey 11.298–304). Thus, they are fixed in the ground, endlessly in motion, and constantly returning to light and life.

At this point in my analysis I find it useful to draw upon the complimentary research of Leonard Muellner and Gregory Nagy. Their work can help us to understand the network of associations between émpedos and the kingly, extended feast which is the ritually appropriate response to an epic homecoming by someone who is philós or ‘near and dear’. In his analysis of the relationship between mênis and philótēs Muellner argues that tīmḗ ‘honor, prestige’ and philótēs ‘friendship, affection’ are “interdependent if not synonymous in epic society and diction. It is heinous to dishonor one’s phíloi; it is inevitable that those whom one loves dearly be the objects of tīmḗ.” [69] Muellner also notes a traditional collocation of the verb philéō ‘treat as a philós’ and the adverb endukéōs, which Gregory Nagy has shown means ‘in proper ritual sequence’. [70] In his analysis of the uses of endukéōs Nagy cites the example at Odyssey 17.111 where “Telemachus says that Nestor as host ephílei ‘loved’ him endukéōs, treating him as if he had been a son who had just returned after an absence.” He also cites Odyssey 15.491, and 14.11 where endukéōs is used to describe meals, and Odyssey 14.390 and 17.113 where endukéōs is used in combination with the verb komízō ‘take care of, convey’. [71] Furthermore, and equally significant to this study, Nagy notes that the glosses for endukés in Hesychius include asphalés ‘steady’, while the glosses for endúkion include ‘bébaion’. [72] As noted at the start of this study, both asphalés and bébaion can be used to gloss émpedos!

When we view the narrator’s comments through the lens of Odysseus’ description, it is clear that émpedos in this context conveys the idea of ‘continual and ritually appropriate’.

When given to living mortals, ambrosia can convey immortality. Administered here after death, ambrosia and nectar protect the body from the natural process of decay. This use of émpedos to describe the preserved body of a fallen hero is in some ways parallel to the concept of imperishability expressed by áphthiton.

So maintaining steadfast strength has a strong connection with ménō and remaining steadfast (ménon émpedon). While Collins sees alkḗ as bringing about an “irreversible mental and physical state,” I would note that émpedos can appropriately describe subjects that are temporarily steadfast. [75]

What is more, Pindar tells us that song and music can charm (thélgei) phrénes—even those of the immortals (Pindar Pythian 1.12). Through this complex, interconnected web of associations, the concept of the émpedos mind/body nexus becomes associated with the effect of epic song on both the singer and the listener. Perhaps the most significant example is Odysseus’ encounter with the Sirens. In that episode Odysseus ties himself to the mast of his ship in order to steadfastly and safely listen to the song of the Sirens. At this famous moment, the poem uses émpedos to describe how the hero stays in place (ὄφρ’ ἔμπεδον αὐτόθι μίμνω [Odyssey 12.161]).

The last two examples above from Odyssey scroll 14 show the line being used to open and close the fabricated story Odysseus tells about his cloak, creating a clear ring composition. Similarly, Nestor uses the formula at Iliad 7.157 as the closing of an expanded twenty five-line micro-narrative about his slaying of Ereuthalion and again as the opening to the almost hundred-line description of his former victories at 11.670. The first speech is part of a rebuke causing seven young heroes to come forward as volunteers for a one-on-one battle. The second speech is part of the critical scene in which Nestor convinces Patroclus to take Achilles’ place in the war.

An opposition is being made here between the injured warrior’s ability to fight and his ability to think and speak appropriately. Like the rock at Iliad 15.617–622 withstanding the flowing wind and waves, his nóos is withstanding the pain, sweat, and blood that have overcome his martial strength. Although he looks as if he might lose consciousness, Eurypylus has maintained his wits and along with them the ability to convince Patroclus to remain by his side.

From this passage we may deduce several points: First, one’s mental state does not always correspond with one’s visible physical state. Second, one’s phrénes can be unstable, fluctuating between being émpedos and not émpedos. As has already been seen, the ability to maintain steadfast phrénes can depend upon the subject’s age. Telemachus’ newly adult phrénes are set in stark contrast to the mind of his father, a man who is remarkable in his ability to remain physically and mentally émpedos during his quest for nóstos. In his encounter with Circe, Odysseus manages to keep these faculties steadfast, while members of his crew are physically transformed. Note, however, that the thoughts of the transformed sailors are specifically labeled as being émpedos (“… however their minds remained steadfast as before. / So, weeping, they were confined,” αὐτὰρ νοῦς ἦν ἔμπεδος ὡς τὸ πάρος περ. / ὣς οἱ μὲν κλαίοντες ἐέρχατο) and that their crying signifies this (Odyssey 10.240–241). Similarly, while trapped on Calypso’s island, Odysseus describes himself in similar terms: “There, for seven years, I remained steadfastly, and my garments were always being drenched by tears,” ἔνθα μὲν ἑπτάετες μένον ἔμπεδον, εἵματα δ’ αἰεὶ / δάκρυσι δεύεσκον (Odyssey 7.259–260).

Apollo’s speech highlights the system of reciprocity and ritual exchange. Since Hector acted in a ritually appropriate way by giving honors to the gods, the gods should, in turn, make sure that he receives his own ritual honors in death. Instead the gods have allowed Achilles to drag Hector’s corpse behind his chariot in an attempt to deny his fallen opponent any proper and timely funeral rituals. Furthermore, as Muellner has also shown, leaving the dead unburied is an act that can incur mênis. [82] As a result, his behavior causes Apollo to label Achilles’ phrénes enaísimoi.

Though it is not mentioned explicitly I believe the géras discussed here is the scepter of kingship, which, as already shown, is associated with the theme of being steadfast. Here again, we can see resonances of understanding ritually appropriate sequence. Achilles is saying that Aeneas will never receive the scepter because Priam’s lineage is yet unbroken. He has sons to follow him, and he is right-minded. He understands the proper sequence and ritual, and so he will pass the privilege of the scepter to his children. In other words, Priam will maintain his social status so long as his mind and his lineage remain émpedos.

The poet defines his work by creating a distinction between himself and the creators of agálmata elīnúsonta. Both of these words are significant. The noun ágalma works in this metaphor on several levels. In the passage above, the meaning expressed is “statue,” as made clear by the context, “I’m no sculptor.” On a more latent level, it must be noted that the semantic field of ágalma is quite broad, including meanings such as glory, honor, ornament, pleasing gift, gravestone, statue, cult statue, image, and portrait; [83] by the third century A.D., it is even used in reference to hieroglyphics. [84] Examination of this list suggests that these definitions carry two core meanings: static visual representation (statue, portrait, and so on) and the trappings of immortality (glory, honor). In some cases, the term derives meaning from both categories; that is, some ideas expressed by ágalma are visual representations which convey or help bring about some level of immortality (gravestone, cult statue, statue).

Here again Pindar uses the phrase ouk elīnúsontas, “not idle,” to describe his poem. In this case, however, the poet is also discussing silence, which is equated to standing still in idleness. Within this poetic ideology, to move is to speak aloud and praise; to stand idle is to be silent.

These lines create an association between the émpedon production of the reputation and its tireless wandering. In this case, excellence remains émpedos and continues to wander even after death. [87] The word akamáta used here is particularly appropriate to descriptions of this type of work as it is used by the Hesiodic tradition to describe the voice of the Muses (Hesiod Theogony 39).

According to Bacchylides, the glory of winning at Nemea will last beyond the grave. While the athlete is alive, his victory will continually uphold an untarnished reputation (δόξα). His death, however, will bring about a transformation. Once the cloud of death covers him, immortal fame will be left behind which, once set upon its journey, can never be tripped up.

These lines acknowledge how the poet is capable of transferring the physical firmness and steadfastness associated with the word émpedos and asphalḗs to subjects that lack such qualities. This transfer of associations may even cross conceptual boundaries, from vertical space to horizontal space, from distance to time, or even from steadfastly fixed to steadfastly kinetic.

Douglas Frame offers a masterful reading of this episode which goes beyond the scope of the present study. [92] For our purposes, it suffices to summarize one of Frame’s key findings: Nestor crashed at the turning post in this race precisely because he didn’t “hold the reins steadfastly.” In fact, the repetition of émpedon hēniókheuen signals the moment in which the twins safely make the dangerous turn around the turning post. Together these passages show that remaining steadfast is crucial to charioteering and to making the turn in particular.

Poseidon transforms the formerly kinetically émpedos ship into a statically fixed stone (Odyssey 13.155–164). Though it is not labeled émpedos, it is thematically émpedos in that the ship is now rooted in the ground. As we have seen, this is the exact unlikely scenario which the scholia saw as the literal interpretation of émpedon at 13.86. [94] Like the boulder of the simile discussed in Section One, the ship is now a secure sign or σῆμα of the power that overwhelmed it.

As further evidence, I would draw the reader’s attention to a beautiful epigram from the Greek Anthology which features émpedon in a remarkable way while commemorating nóstos and perhaps honoring Poseidon the Securer.

Crantas’ dedication is clearly reflecting Poseidon’s transformation of the Phaeacian ship as well as Odysseus’ sleep during his journey aboard the ship. Yet, given what we have learned about the association between the adverb ἀσφαλέως and charioteering, I would posit that the epithet Ἀσφάλειος also reflects Poseidon’s association with horses and charioteering. If so, the epithet would mark Poseidon as the god who can make things secure in both kinetic and fixed ways and the god who challenges that security by making fixed things shake and break apart or by making steadfastly kinetic things crash, trip, and swerve.

As we have seen, it is not unusual in the Homeric tradition to compare horses with ships, but this example is particularly interesting because it equates the fixed ships with moving horses. It is as if both the steadfastness of the boats in the world of the narrative and the steadfastness of the horses and horseman within the frame of the metaphor is being transferred to the hero.

Though used to describe fettered horses, these lines also call to mind Penelope who is waiting steadfastly for her lord to achieve his nóstos. If this connection seems unlikely, consider the use of the phrase émpeda pánta in relation to Penelope. Within the Odyssey this phrase is used in the formulaic lines that question whether Penelope (used twice of Penelope, once spoken by Penelope herself at Odyssey 19.525) and Mentor (once) are, or should remain, in place and guard everything at home.

So when Odysseus meets with his mother in the underworld he asks if his géras remains with his father and son (Odyssey 9.174–176). He also inquires specifically about Penelope asking the question: Does she remain by my son and guard everything émpeda or has the best of the Achaeans married her? There is some ambiguity about what exactly Odysseus is referring to when he says émpeda pánta [103] in that émpeda may be either an adjective, “guard everything émpeda,” or an adverb, “continuously and appropriately guard everything.” If the former is the most appropriate reading of the line, as I suggest with my translation, then the question hints toward the most crucial émpedos object and secure σῆμα in the Odyssey: the hero’s bed. As we will see, to keep watch over everything émpedos is to maintain the security of his marriage and by extension his nóstos.

Though the word émpedos is not used, the metaphor above offers diction and themes parallel to other Homeric metaphors in which émpedos does occur.

So the hero begins his ordeal by being émpedos in a fixed way.

Thus, in this task he is kinetically émpedos. Next, Jason must fight the earthborn men that grow out of the teeth he sows into the ground. Again, although the word émpedos does not occur in this passage, the earthborn men are by their nature émpedos in that many of them are still sprouting and fixed in the ground during the battle.

First, it is notable that this important mythic moment—the moment in which Jason actually takes the fleece—involves the concept of steadfastness. Second, it should be noted that Medea, like Penelope, is heroic for being émpedos in a fixed way, and that this state was obtained through the use of skill and trickery. In this case, the heroine uses magic instead of weaving, but both women display feats of intelligence. [107] Medea’s steadfast moment must be viewed in relation to the rest of the trials, which, as we’ve seen, have been trials of Jason’s steadfastness.

The interconnected web of themes surrounding the creation and destruction of the Achaean wall is complex and includes issues such as antagonism between gods and men, the resolution of antagonism between gods, and the power of cult fame vs. poetic glory.

Such is the case with the destruction of the wall. For a time, while the frame of reference remains within that of the Iliad (Hector lives, Achilles rages), the wall will remain émpedos. But when the perspective shifts to an external viewpoint (the city is sacked and the Greeks return home), from that external perspective we see that the wall is not steadfast forever.