‘From there, grieving still at heart, we sailed on further It is rather difficult to like the Cyclopes. But what is the main problem with them? In answer to this question, we can say that Polyphemos is hostile and eats people for supper. While this is not endearing, we must add that he did not go out of his way to attack Odysseus and his companions; he was just living on his island, minding his own business, and when uninvited visitors turned up on his doorstep... well, he just wasn't interested to hear their story (he does ask the obligatory question, though, ll. 252-5). Polyphemos, however, is not simply a monster: he is a shepherd and a producer of fine cheese. So is he a boorish giant who doesn't like the smell of humans or a sophisticated artisan cheesemaker living an isolated but idyllic existence?
0 Comments
I could have mentioned this earlier but somehow it slipped my mind: the Ancient Egyptian Tale of The Shipwrecked Sailor (c. 2000 BC, predating the Odyssey by about 1200 years) contains some important elements of the Odyssey. A sailor, having suffered a shipwreck and having lost all of his companions, is washed ashore on an island, in a 'thicket', just like Odysseus on Scheria. Eventually, he manages to return home and tells his story to his 'master'. According to his tale, the island was full of riches and exotic things (perfumes, ivory and baboons, to mention but a few), but there was also a huge speaking serpent on this island, which was a bit scary. The serpent dragged the sailor to his lair, but otherwise treated him very politely. He promised the sailor that he would be rescued in four months' time, so no need to worry. To kill time until then, the serpent suggested having a conversation. After telling the sailor about his serpent family living on the island with him (seventy-five of them altogether, brothers and children), he reassured him: "[I]f your heart waits patiently, you shall press your infants to your bosom and embrace your wife again. You shall return to your house which is full of all good things. You shall see your land, where you shall dwell in the midst of your kindred". The story ended happily as the sailor was indeed rescued and was given many gifts by the serpent. At the end, there is a hint that his adventure has made the sailor a wiser man. In Book 9, things will not go this smoothly. There will be an island, a monster of some sort and a lair, but instead of many gifts, a near escape for Odysseus and his men. Also, this bit will be full of violence. Similarly to the Shipwrecked Sailor, Odysseus tells his own tale and starts by revealing his name (in contrast to the Egyptian story, where there are no names mentioned): "I am Odysseus son of Laertes, known before all men / for the study of crafty designs, and my fame goes up to the heavens" (ll. 19-20). This is important as the theme of identity will come up in Odysseus' own tale when he 'introduces' himself to the cyclops Polyphemos.
Venus emerging from the sea famously captured the imagination of painters Botticelli and Titian, but I wondered how popular this theme was in classical antiquity and before. When the ancients thought of Aphrodite, did they think of shells, dolphins and sea foam surrounding her? To what extent were these attributes fixed or of primary importance? Mythology abounds with sea creatures and divinities emerging from or residing in the sea. The Cretan bull is an example for the former, while the Nereids, who lead a mermaid-like existence (but look fully human), for the latter. Was Aphrodite something of a sea nymph herself?
Ripping Off Limbs, Dancing Maenads and Evergreen Ivy - The God Dionysos and His Sacred Band12/29/2011 I grew up in a place where everything was overgrown. The fences around houses stooped under the burden of vegetation. This is the essence of Dionysos and this is what makes him so powerful: he embodies unrestrained nature, growing freely, reaching all places; nature fertile and untamed. The Greeks worshipped Dionysos, among others things, as a tree god (Plutarch Moralia 675). He is also the god of all vegetation, including fruits and flowers, and most importantly, the vine. He is everything that is abundant and overflowing. "The unrestrained joys of nature", however, says Richard Seaford in his book Dionysos (Routledge, 2006), "are an urban vision. For most people in ancient societies life was a struggle to control nature" (p. 15). So Dionysos is an ambivalent deity (one of his cult epithets is dimorphos, 'dual-formed'). He is associated with the seasons, the unruliness and vitality of unchecked growth, the cyclical rebirth of green vegetation, but also with the danger present in all of this. Wine, Dionysos' gift to humankind, is a mixed blessing. It promotes social bonding but can be destructive if drunk undiluted or in excess.
Composed roughly at the same time as the Iliad and the Odyssey, the Homeric Hymns are poems, generally attributed in antiquity to Homer, giving individual praise to a number of Greek gods in hexameter form. The composition date given by encyclopedias varies: according to the Concise Oxford Companion to Classical Literature (accessible for OU students through the OU library in electronic form) it is 8th to 6th centuries BC, while the Columbian Electronic Encyclopedia (accessible via the same route) has "between 800 and 300 BC". Light is shed on this controversy by Wikipedia, of all things, explaining that "although most of [the poems] were composed in the seventh and sixth centuries, a few may be Hellenistic, and the Hymn to Ares might be a late pagan work, inserted when it was observed that a hymn to Ares was lacking". (I personally have found the Wikipedia entry the most informative, containing many bits of useful information, which the various Oxford Companions and Dictionaries did not choose to include.) I had an idea about what a hymn to a god may be like - a barrage of epithets and lavish, albeit formulaic, praise (a bit like those rather repetitive votive offerings found at sanctuary sites from the same period), but I was surprised to find extended narratives in some of the poems. After the invocation and praise, the narrative passage must have provided an opportunity for the rhapsode to shine and for the audience to be entertained. In antiquity, the hymns were sometimes called 'preludes' (prooimia), probably introductions to narratives that followed, says the Introduction to the Penguin Classics edition by Nicholas Richardson. Although in many cases the narratives seem to be already included, the explanation suggested by Richardson is that the hymn or series of hymns introduced an even 'more extensive epic song'. However, he concludes, it is impossible to be sure. The Homeric Hymns page on the website of Washington State University says: "Many of the hymns function as introductions, but it is not known to what". |
AuthorHave studied A219 Exploring the Classical World and A275 Reading Classical Greek at the Open University. Currently studying for a Psychology degree. ImagesPlease click on any image to be taken to its source.
Archives
August 2014
Categories
All
Resources |