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Dioscurica and the Roots of the Cyclic Tradition
TABLE OF CONTENTS
Introduction: The Prehistory of Greek Mythology and Poetics
The Indo-European Heritage
The “Cyclic” Tradition
I. Father Heaven, Heaven’s Daughter, and the Divine Twins
The rape of Nemesis
Shape-shifting, rape, and corov"
Heaven’s Incest
Helen and Saran‰y¨
ei[dolon and sávarn‰a
The birth of the Dvine Twins
II. Returning heroes
The Dioscuri as rescuers
Odysseus and the Phaeacians
Indo-Iranian rescue epyllia
The Vedic story of Bhujyu
III. Concluding remarks: the origins of the epic framework
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Foreword
It would seem dubious to address the issue of roots and origins without reservations,
because one thereby awakens the notion of absolute beginnings, which is a matter of
metaphysics rather than of history or philology. By “roots” I simply mean conditions
not being explicit in the discrete texts, but nonetheless discernible in the comparative
record, aspects that lie beneath (but not necessarily at the bottom of) the texts
themselves. In the same spirit, beginnings and origins may, instead of being regarded
as something absolute, be understood as the current closure of historical vision. In the
case of myth, any attempt to trace its origin by merely focusing the plot is bound to
fail. However, one may endeavor to track down early versions of myths, as well as
early connotations of themes and agents, by paying attention to the tradition of their
performance. There are processes in history causing traditions to diverge, allowing
some parts to survive while others begin to break down and fade away. Although we
are seldom able to pinpoint exactly why, when, and where these processes occur, they
are always dependent on the maintenance, change, or lack of social interaction at a
given point in time. Only to some extent does this interaction serve the purpose of
communication in the present, so that a tradition may have to follow certain paths in
space. It may have to cross oceans, penetrate into deep caves, or meet obstacles in
deserts and jungles, yet the primary task of tradition is not to establish communication
in space, but to carry information through time. In general, tellers of myth are
particularly dependent on tradition since they address groups in the present with a
(real or pretended) message from the past, often explicitly urging these groups (or
representatives of these groups) to pass on the myth to future generations. An
effective method of safeguarding the transmission of such messages is to encode them
in poetic diction. In the widest and simplest sense of the concept, “poetic diction” may
imply a conventional modification (or even deformation) of everyday language,
which need not be restricted to merely aesthetic purposes. By exaggerating the
segmentation and intonation of spoken discourse, introducing rhymes, alliterations
and circumlocutions, a verbal message is created that is both easy to recognize and
easy to recall, but not necessarily easy to understand. Even though this laborious
encoding and decoding of poetic messages has to make sense to the parties involved,
the meaning of the message tends to be much more sensitive to change than the means
by which it is encoded. It is only when we have access to encoded messages
belonging to different yet once related traditions that we may hope to recover earlier
strata of meaning.
I have so far pretended to treat myth as an unambiguous concept. It is surely not.
One cannot be careful enough when it comes to separating this category from others. I
am only ready to make a few reservations at this point: myth is not defined by its
content. It may deal with virtually anything. Myth is rather defined by the means and
circumstances of its performance. The persistency in defining myth with reference to
content is due to the fact that such means and circumstances have become particularly
associated with certain sets of stories, but these stories do not become myths until
they obtain a certain social priority, until they are articulated, and when this happens
they become recognizable as marked speech (NOT Nagy). Furthermore, myths are not
always stories in the sense that they present a consistent course of events. On the
contrary, they are often highly allusive and insusceptible to narrative time (NOT).
The stories to be investigated in the following chapters are neither strikingly
similar on the surface, nor can they be restored to a single version in the discrete
cultures. They belonged to different societies and were told for a number of different
2
reasons. They have been altered and extended, abandoned and recovered. Only partly
have they entered into the mythical machinery, yet it is their mythical traits (the traits
of marked speech) that shall concern us here. These traits lie embedded in the names
and epithets of the agents, in the proximity of these names and agents, and in the
words and phrases with which these agents are associated. If these traits can be shown
to form parts of a larger whole, they will at once provide insights into a literary
heritage reaching far beyond the traditions compared.
3
Introduction: The prehistory of Greek mythology and poetics
The earliest literary monuments of the West, the Iliad and the Odyssey, owe at least
some of their magnificence to factors that preceded their composition. First of all one
must consider the reflexes of historical events, places, and persons in the tradition of
the Trojan War, particularly those belonging to Bronze Age Aegean, no matter how
little of this historical past that actually survived the force of epic imagination. Then
one must consider the importance of an already established tradition of the Trojan
War at the time of the composition of the Homeric poems, as reflected by early visual
art, by the poems of the Epic Cycle, and by the lyric of the Archaic Age. The
possibility of Near Eastern and other external literary influences on the Homeric
poems should also be taken into consideration. And last, but not least, one must
consider the aspects of a poetic and mythical heritage in early Greek literature that
were not restricted to the traditions of Greek tribes, but rather belonged to a much
older Indo-European tradition. In this chapter, I will pay particular attention to the last
issue, because it is the existence of an Indo-European heritage in Greek poetry that
has created the opportunity for the comparisons made in this study. An important task
in the following chapters will thus be to treat the mythical framework of the “Cyclic”
tradition in the same spirit as the linguistic, formulaic, and metrical traditions shared
by the peoples speaking Indo-European languages.
The Indo-European heritage
A suitable starting point is to look at the very notion of the poet and his craft, and in
this respect Pindar is a case in point. While referring to the epic past, Pindar may
employ specific images in order to situate himself in a long tradition of poetic
performance. Having described the killing of Memnon, for instance, he claims (Nem.
6, 53-54) that the older poets found a “highway” (oJdo;n ajmaxitovn) in such deeds,
and that he now makes this road his “own concern” (aujto;" melevtan) by following
along.1 This is a fitting image for the inner conflict of traditional composition, and it
applies particularly well to Pindar: that of being called to account for something new
and original while simultaneously relying on time-honored conventions. One would at
least expect this image to be an invention, but it could in fact belong to a traditional
imagery. This topic has been investigated by Marcello Durante, who gives numerous
examples of metaphors for poetic speech as a “path” in Vedic, Avestan, and Greek.2
Consider the following stanza in a Vedic hymn to the god Soma (9,91,5ab): “as of
old, you well endowed (one), prepare the paths (patháh‰ k√n‰uhi) for a new song
(návyase ... s¨ktý´ya)!” Not only does the emphasis on the “newness” of a hymn
appear as an isolated comparandum in Pindar (Isth. 5, 63: nevon ... u{mnon), but also
combined with the image of the “path of verses” in Ol. 9, 47-49: “awaken for them a
clear sounding path of verses (ejpevwn ... oi\mon); praise wine that is old, but the
blooms of hymns that are newer (newtevrwn).”3 If Durante was correct in regarding
this image as the residue of a shared poetic heritage, then Pindar’s way of expressing
his own relation to the epic past was in itself dependent on a traditional metaphor.
From an Indo-European perspective, this metaphor opens up a whole set of related
To judge from another passage in Pindar (Pyth. 4,246-248), ajmaxitov"
seems to denote a more lengthty exposition as opossed to the shorter
(but perhaps more challenging) oi\mo".
2
See Durante 1968 (= 1958): 242-260, see especially p. 245.
3
Tr. Race 1997: 153.
1
4
concepts. A still discernible trace of those who originally prepared this path, the
“track of the word”, incites the poet to become a “track-seeker”.4 Furthermore, the
poem itself may be compared to a vehicle (preferably a chariot) in which the poet
travels (cf. RV 2,31,1-4 and Ol. 1,110-111),5 and the very composition of poetry is
compared to the manufacturing of such a vehicle. It was in fact in this context that
James Darmesteter first recognized what he referred to as an Indo-European
“grammatical metaphor”, namely the description of poetry as a skill comparable to the
skill of a craftsman.6 A good example is RV 5,2,11: “for you (Agni) I have
manufactured (atak˜am) this praise poem (stómaÚ) as a chariot/wheel (ráthaÚ ná)”.
Darmesteter noticed that this figure could involve a number of synonyms for the
spoken word, one of which (vácas-7) was also attested in an Avestan compound
(vacastaπti-) serving as a technical term for “strophe”, but with the faded literal sense
“word-crafting”. Darmesteter could also show that the Greeks used the same figure in
their poetry. Once more in favor of deep-rooted metaphors, Pindar describes his
predecessors, the epic poets of the past, as the “craftsmen of verses” (ejpevwn
tevktone") (Pyth. 3, 112-114: Nevstora kai; Luvkion Sarphdovn ... ejx ejpevwn
keladennw`n, tevktone" oi|a sofoiv Ú a{rmosan, ginwvskomen “we know of Nestor
and the Lykian Sarpedon ... from such sounding verses as wise craftsmen joined
together8”). A similar example is found in Pausanias (10,5,8), who preserves a verse
concerning the mythical poet Olenus (the supposed founder of oracular hexameter
poetry): ... ejpevwn tektavnat∆ ajoidavn “he fashioned a song out of verses”. These
etymological matches as to both noun (Ved. vácas-, Av. vacah-, Gr. e[po") and verbal
root (Ved. •tak˜, Av. •taπ, Gr. •tekt) give us the hereditary formula *„ék∑os •*tetkñ
(•*tekñ∑).
Darmesteter’s find is of crucial importance for the study of Indo-European poetics,
because the formula simultaneously proves to be a part of the common poetic
repertoire and a poetic designation of the foundation of the whole repertoire. It is
significant that metaphors of this kind are less pronounced in epic poetry. One
explanation could lie in the generic differences. Pindar’s Epinikia and the Vedic
hymns seem to have more in common in that respect. They were intended as praise
poetry, celebrating the appearance and activity of particular individuals (men or gods)
at a given point in time. Since this poetry was more concerned with the situation of its
performance than the epic poems appear to have been, this gave the poet an
opportunity to be more present in his own creation. What we do find striking
examples of in Homeric poetry, on the other hand, is a set of phraseological and
stylistic characteristics that seems less restricted to a particular genre, but rather to
have constituted the archaic building stones of oral composition. Verbal and
conceptual parallels regarding the notion of lasting fame are particularly well-attested.
In the wake of Adalbert Kuhn’s famous Graeco-Aryan equation klevo" a[fqiton =
ák˜iti ¢rávah‰, ¢rávo ... ák˜itam (*kñlé„os ˆ‰dg∑hitom) “imperishable fame”, a
number of closely related formulas have been identified: fame (*kñlé„os) can be
4
Durante 1968 (= 1958): 244.
Durante 1968 (= 1958): 252f.
6
Darmesteter 1878 (= 1968): 116-118.
7
vácýÚsy ý¢ý´ ... tak˜am “with my lips have I crafted the words” (RV
6,32,1d).
8
Note that the verb aJrmovzw was closely associated with the chariot
(a{rma) among the Greeks from an early date onwards (cf. the
Myceanean word (h)armo- “wheel”).
5
5
associated with eternity and lifetime, it can be immortal, eternal, great, broad, etc.,9
but the concept also recurs in proper nouns such as the Mycenean woman’s name aqi-ti-ta (Ak∑hthitý), based as it seems to be on the compound name
*Ak∑hthitoklewejja,10 or the early Germanic man’s name HlewagastiR “having
famous guests” (cf. the Greek name Kleovxeno", which clearly matches the first
element of the Germanic name, and at least semantically corresponds to the second
element11). Attention has also been paid to the poetic characterization of horses and
chariots: the horses have golden manes, they are swift, prize-winning, and stronghoofed; the chariots are well-wheeled or well-running, they have golden seats and
golden reins.12
Parallels of a slightly different kind are found in Hesiod. These suggest that early
gnomic poetry became a vehicle of mythical motifs and religious attitudes reflecting a
different (but not necessarily younger) stratum of tradition than the one set off in the
Homeric poems. Quite remarkable is the triadic formula (Op. 514-16): diavhsi ... É
dia; ... e[rcetai É di∆ ... a[hsi ... (possibly a distorted variant of the climactic formula
*diavhsi ... É di∆ ... a[hsi ... É dia; ... e[rcetai), which seems to preserve the features of
an obsolete myth or a sexual metaphor also attested in Vedic and Hittite (similar
climactic formulas associated with the same collocation of concepts).13 Another
striking case is the encapsulation of the tabu “not to urinate standing up when facing
the sun” (Op. 727) in the Hesiodic formula ojrqo;" ojmeivcein, which is strongly
reminiscent of a Vedic phrase attested in a similar context: ¨rdhvó mek˜yými “I will
urinate standing up” (AV 7,10,2). This conspicuous parallel allows us to reconstruct
an Indo-European formula *„√Hdh„os •*h3meÁgñh as well as to retrieve the
rudiments of its ominous connotations.
We have so far been looking at some common properties of poetic language that
allow us to isolate an Indo-European poetic heritage in early Greek literature, but to
what extent are we able to isolate other aspects of tradition (such as the names and
attributes of gods) that would fit into this linguistic medium? To move from the
linguistic to the poetic plane already implies the preparedness to deal with a much
more fleeting and complex material, with regard to which the strict rules of grammar
and linguistic change no longer apply neatly. In the case of religion, however,
reconstructive endeavors appear more or less futile. It seems difficult enough to
describe the religions of documented societies, such as the Greek or Vedic, and in the
case of Indo-European religion any attempt in this direction necessarily depends on
the description of the documented societies. It is consequently not religion as a
complex whole (or the social, economic, political, ecological, etc. implications and
preconditions of this complex whole) that lends itself to such endeavors, but rather a
very limited number of concepts that were passed on by means of and as parts of
language. These concepts have been invested with different meanings in the
documented societies, and they are not necessarily better preserved in the oldest
societies. As we shall see below, there are some rare cases of continuity in the use of
divine names and some of the verbal tags with which these names were associated,
9
Schmitt 1967: 61-102. For a more recent treatment of the formula,
see Watkins 1995: 173-178.
10
Risch 1987: 3-11.
11
Watkins (1995: 246, 404) sees the zero grade *ghs- of European
*ghos-(ti-) in Greek xevno".
12
West 1988: 155.
13
Basic discussion in Watkins 1975, followed up by Jackson 2002,
Oettinger (forthcoming), and Watkins (forthcoming).
6
but it is important to keep in mind how limited a picture these traits give of an actual
“culture” (by which one does not only understand a heritage, but also the
incorporation of heritage). Nevertheless, this minor set of concepts may offer
interesting and relevant insights into, if not the culture of the proto-Indo-Europeans,
then at least the Indo-European traditions (or, to be more precise, the Indo-European
tradita) inherited by the documented cultures.
Historians of religions have readily applied theories of synchronic linguistics in
their attempts to describe and understand religious phenomena such as myth (e.g.
Lévi-Strauss) or ritual (e.g. Lawson/McCauley), because the rules that govern
language are believed to repeat themselves on other levels of social life. Ferdinand de
Saussure, one of the first to make this observation from a linguist’s point of view,
would also have insisted that language, just as any other social phenomenon, has a
synchronic and diachronic side to it, and that the study of language ideally involves
the appreciation of both sides. I would thus conclude that language, from the point of
view of religious studies, does much more than just mediate religious notions as they
appear in texts or in spoken discourse, or serve as a pattern for the description of
religion as a synchronic system. As a major vehicle of religious notions, language also
contains the ruins of its own past and to a limited extent also the ruins of such notions.
A well-known instance of Indo-European heritage in Greek religion is the name
“Zeus”.14 The Greeks, accustomed as they were to regard this god as the pater
familias of the divine household, addressed him as pavthr (most frequently in the
vocative Zeu` pavter ... “O father Zeus!”). The same usage is attested in Vedic, where
one finds an etymologically matching name Dyáus, occasionally also in the vocative
Dyàus (pronounced as a disyllable díaus) and followed by the corresponding epithet
pítar “father” (cf. AV 6,4,3c). The frequent vocative usage was generalized in some
languages, which explains Latin Iuppiter, Umbrian Iupater, and “Illyrian”
Deipavturo" as derivations from the vocative *dÁé„ ph2tér, not from the expected
nominative *dÁé„s ph2tÿ´r. Watkins argues for reflexes of a similar epithet in Old
Irish and Hittite, where he considers the Indo-European semantics to be better
preserved.15
A hereditary extension of the epithet “father” is also seen in the Vedic, Avestan,
and Greek (perhaps also Latin) characterizations of this (or some other) god as “father
and begetter” (*ph2tÿ´r gñnh1tþr).16 Cf., for instance, RV4,1,10d: dyáu˜ pitý´ janitý´,
RV 1,164,33a: dyáur me pitý´ janitý´, Y 44,3b: za…ƒý patý, Aeschylus, Hiket. 206: ...
Zeu;" de; gennhvtwr, Euripides, Ion 136: Foi`bov" moi genevtwr pathvr, Ennius,
Annales 120: o pater, o genitor17. The comparison between RV 1,164,33a and Ion 136
deserves particular attention, because (as noticed by Schmitt18) the phrases also share
the enclitic personal pronoun me/moi. Although Schmitt seems to regard the match as
haphazard, I would not rule out that the phrases contain traces of the same cultic
formula. The liturgical context of the current passage in Ion is quite explicit (Ion
praying in the temple of Apollo with a laurel broom in his hand), and as for the RV
this context must be taken for granted in any case. We would thus be dealing with an
14
For a useful etymological survey, see Schindler 1978: 999-1001.
Watkins 1995: 8.
16
Schmitt 1967: §290ff.
17
Ennius may simply have adopted a Greek formula, which neverthess
gives a more archaic impression in terms of word order (in accord
with Behagel’s law) than the attested Greek formulas.
18
Schmitt 1967: §291.
15
7
example of a formula vaguely reflecting the Indo-European language of prayer:
*(dÁé„s) moÁ ph2tÿ´r gñnh1tþr “DÁe„s/GOD is my father and begetter”.
The basic meaning of the verbal root from which the noun *dÁé„- was derived
seems to have been “to shine” (as seen in the extended Vedic root •dyut), and this
sense also survives in derivative nouns meaning “heaven” (cf. the meaning of Vedic
dyáus in certain contexts) or “day” (cf. Latin diÿs, Armenian tiw, or the Greek
compounds e[ndio" “at midday” and eujdiva “fair weather”). This does not imply that
the Greeks placed Zeus on an equality with the diurnal sky, nor that the aspects
inherent in his name inevitably sheds light upon his subsequent role in Greek
mythology. There are, however, some characteristic features that could be approached
in this manner. In his capacity as the god who decides the human fate, Zeus is
idiomatically said to “bring on the day” (ejp∆ h\mar a[gein/ejf∆ hJmevrhn a[gein). An
early example is Od. 18,136f.: toi`o" ga;r novo" ejsti;n ejpicqonivwn ajnqrwvpwn Ú
oi|on ejp∆ h\mar a[gh/si path;r ajndrw`n te qew`n te. Another example is found in
Archilochus (West, fr. 131), according to whom the mood of mortals vary “as the day
that Zeus brings on” (oJpoivhn Zeu;" ejf∆ hJmevrhn a[gh/)”.19 Considering the early
date of Archilochus’ poetry20, it does not seem necessary to interpret fr. 131 as an
allusion to Homer, and we may consequently regard the two examples as independent
manifestations of the same traditional locution.21 It would thus seem all the more
relevant to compare, as Martin West has done,22 Zeus as the god who “brings on day”
with Uranos as the god who “brings on night” (cf. Theog. 176: h\lqe de; nuvkt∆
ejpavgwn mevga" Oujranov" ... “and great Uranos came, bringing on night”). These
and other examples suggest that the two formulas (or locutions) belonged to a preHomeric tradition, and that they shared the same thematic background:
A. *ejp∆ h\mar a[gwn Zeuv"
B. nuvkt∆ ejpavgwn ... Oujranov" (Theog. 176)
It is plausible that Zeus and Uranos were occasionally conceived as complementary
deities, perhaps even as a pair. Although the Greek material is not comprehensive
enough to confirm this hypothesis, a stronger case can be made by bringing in IndoIranian comparanda.
I have elsewhere reconsidered the possibility that the Vedic gods Mitra and
Varun‰a (often addressed as a pair) retain features that associate them with the
diurnal and nocturnal aspects of the sky. 23 According to the Taittir^ya SaÚhitý (TS
19
This notion is echoed in Pindar’s famous dictum regarding the
“creatures of the day” (ejpavmeroi) (Pyth. 8,95-8,96). Cf. also the
English word “ephemeral”.
20
The memorial of Glaucus, son of Leptines (SEG 14.565), which has
been dated to the late 7th century, clearly belonged to the Glaucus
addressed in Archilochus’ poetry.
21
Fowler’s (1987: 26f.) discussion of the paralell halts a little,
because he seems to presuppose that either Homer or Archilochus has
to be derivative.
22
West 1966: 218.
23
Jackson 2002b. The hypothesis that Mitra and Varun‰a represent the
reflexes of a much older divine pair, which was subjected to decoding
and superposition among the Indo-Iranians, remained a hallmark in
Dumézil’s theory of bipartite sovereignity. The shared features of
Zeus/Uranos and Mitra/Varun‰a (not least their association with day
and night) played an important role in Dumézil’s early writings (cf.
8
6,4,8), Varun‰a produced the night as opposed to Mitra who produced the day
(mitrau ’har ajana yad varun‰o rýtriÚ).24 Another noteworthy example is the
description of the two gods as mutually pressing together (in the night) and opening
out the rush-work (in the morning) (AV 9,3,1825):
ítùasya te ví c√tý´myápinahyam aporn‰uván
várun‰ena sámubjitýÚ mitráh‰ prýtárvyubjiatu
“of thy rush-work I unfasten what was tied on, uncovering: [thee] pressed together by
Varun‰a, let Mitra in the morning open out” (Whitney (tr.))
Furthermore, the nocturnal aspects of Varun‰a are clearly hinted at in descriptions of
his secret supervision of human action. He wears the night sky as a golden garment, to
which his “spies” (spá¢as) have been attached (RV 1,25,13).26 Zeus is associated with
a similar notion at Op. 252-53, but it is also likely to have been an early (if not to say
earlier) property of Uranos as well since he was more intimately associated with the
starry sky (cf. his epic epithet ajsterovei"). A pre-Socratic fragment (Critias, Sisyphus
33) refers to the “star-eyed frame of the sky” (ajsterwpo;n oujranou` devma") and
there is a depiction of Uranos on the southern frieze of the Pergamon Altar with a pair
of eyes (possibly owl’s eyes) on his wings.27
Despite such typological points of agreement, the etymological connection
between várun‰a and oujranov" has been considered untenable for nearly a century.
Jacob Wackernagel’s objection (against Kretschmer and Solmsen) in Sprachliche
Untersuchungen zu Homer28 was soon canonized as yet another successful attempt to
shatter the illusions of 19th century comparative mythology. The etymology was first
seriously reconsidered by George Dunkel in 1987, who in his Zürich inaugural lecture
showed that the comparison may in fact be perfectly sound (Dunkel 1988-1990). He
interpreted várun‰a as a synchronic continuator of the Vedic stem varu- (< PIE
*„oru-) “to encompass, cover”, surviving with different syllabification (*„or„-) in
oujranov". As regards similar formations, the nouns var¨t√ñ, vár¨thý, and the adjective
var¨thía are notable. The etymology implies qualitative vowel gradation*„eruno/*„oruno- (cf. Ved ápas/ý´pas), Greek *ejranov"/Aeolic ojranov" (cf. Greek
ejcurov"/ojcurov") (< *„er„n‰o-, *„or„n‰o-). This view is compatible with the
view of M. Kümmel, who reconstructs a PIE root *„er- “aufhalten, (ab)wehren”,
preserved in Greek and subjected to merger with *„el- “einschließen, verhüllen” and
*H„er- “stecken” in Indo-Iranian.29 The two names would thus be formed on the
same verbal root meaning “to cover” and a suffix –no- (as in Latin dominus) denoting
worldly or heavenly dominion. Dunkel’s interpretation is certainly not definitive, but
Dumézil 1948), but he seems to have lost his interest in the issue
after 1948.
24
Other examples, most of which are listed in Dumézil 1948: 90ff.,
are: TS 2,1,7; 5,6,21; TB 1,7,10,1; AV 9,3,18; 13,3,13; AVP 2,72,2 (=
2,80,2).
25
A similar notion occurs in AV 13,3,13: “This Agni becomes Varun‰a
in the evening; in the morning, rising, he becomes Mitra” (Whitney
(tr.)).
26
Cf. also the description of Ahura Mazd˝ (theological counterpart
of Varun‰a and possible avatar of Indo-Iranian *„aruna) in Yt. 13.2-3
(Jackson 2002: 50ff.).
27
Discussion in Simon 1975: 35.
28
Wackernagel 1916: 136 A. 1.
29
LIV 625f.
9
there are some further matches to back it up. He notices himself that the same
adjective (*„érH-) is used to describe the gods as “wide” (*„érH-) or “wide-looking”
(cf. RV 1,25,5bc: várun‰aÚ ... urucák˜asam ~ Op. 45 (and passim): oujranov"
eujruv"). Another conspicuous parallel is that both gods are said to be (or have) a
“firm seat (*sédos)” (RV 8,41,9d: dhruváÚ sádah‰ ~ Theog. 128: ajsfale;" e{do").
It is noteworthy that Vedic Dyaus/dyaús and Greek Uranos/oujranov" appear to
have undergone the same theological and semantic development (e.g. the relative
passivity of the gods and the occasional changeover of the proper nouns to nouns
meaning “sky”), especially when one considers the extent to which this weakness is
“restored” by their Greek and Vedic namesakes. There is consequently no need to be
overly pessimistic when it comes to outlining the prehistory of the two gods, because
some of the features that have been lost or fossilized on the one side of the
comparison may still be vital on the other. As we shall see in the chapter to follow,
there is also textual evidence for a less passive, but often overlooked aspect of Dyaus
that would support his conformity with Zeus. In the light of these new data, I would
cautiously argue that Dumézil’s old idea concerning Zeus/Uranos as the Greek
manifestations of the “two sovereigns” (by the side of such pairs as Mitra/Varun‰a
and Germanic *T^waz/Wþµanaz) deserves reconsideration. If the observation is
correct, the Greek comparandum would contain onomastic features that were only
retained in corrupted form elsewhere: the name of the (diurnal) sky-god as a part of
the Germanic pair (*T^waz (*dei„ós “heavenly, god” •*dÁé„) and the name of the
nocturnal “coverer” as a part of the Vedic pair: *dÁé„s (or *dei„ós) and *„eruno.
Scholars discussing the Indo-European stratum in Greek myth and epic, and if so
only in passing, have been in habit of referring to the common origin of Eos and
Vedic U˜as (*h2e„sþ´s) (cf. also the Roman and Baltic continuators) as a particularly
strong case. From the point of view of classical literature, the etymological match has
been backed up with important observances as to phraseology and theme30, and
Boedeker convincingly argues that Aphrodite absorbed many characteristic features
of the Indo-European Dawn-goddess that would no longer apply to Eos. As is
generally assumed, Indo-European *h2e„sþ´s bore the epithet *di„ós dhugh2tér
“daughter of DÁe„s”, although this epithet need not have been her’s exclusively. She
had a characteristic smile (•*smeÁ), which she seems to have shared with her father
(cf. RV2,4,6d)31, and the Vedic characterization of her “desire” (vánas- (< *„énos))
(cf. RV 10l,172,1: ý´ yý´hi vánasý sahá “come here (U˜as) with your desire”) may
provide a clue to the origin of the Latin name Venus.32 Just as in the case of Zeus and
Dyaus, there are still some crucial points of thematic (and possibly phrasal)
interference that have been overlooked. This may also be true of the much-debated
Divine Twins, the Greek Dioscuri, whose Vedic counterparts appear as allies of the
Dawn-goddess. I shall return to these issues in the chapters to follow, however, and
see no reason to delve into details here.
Since I have left out data that seem less relevant to the main topics of this study,
this discussion has by no means been exhaustive as regards the formulaic and
onomastic parallels in early Indo-European (especially Greek and Vedic) texts.
Nevertheless, some further cases of scholarly progress should be mentioned.
Etymological equations that were for a long time considered fallacious and overly
speculative, especially since they called to mind Friedrich Max Müller’s and Adalbert
30
See, for instance, Boedeker (1974), Clader (1976), and Nagy (1990
(= 1978)).
31
See discussion in Boedeker (1974: 24ff) and Dunkel (1990: 9).
32
Dunkel 1990: 10.
10
Kuhn’s 19th century Naturmythologie, have been reconsidered by a new generation of
linguists. It should be emphasized that these scholars use different and refined
methods of comparison, and that the problems are approached from a new (yet far
from programmatic) angle. Besides Dunkel’s reconsideration of Uranos and
Varun‰a, I would like to add Johanna Narten’s thoughtful notes on the etymology of
the name of Prometheus (Doric Promaqeuv"), who is compared to Vedic Mýtari¢van
“robbing” (mathný´ti, •math (sometimes with the preverb pra-)) the heavenly fire.33
This new interpretation makes a strong case the existence of an obsolete Greek
compound name (derived from Indo-European *promýth2e„-) that was no longer
semantically perceptible to the epic poets (they instead associated this name with the
verb manqavnw). Worth attention is also Michael Estell’s reconsideration of the
common background of Orpheus and àbhu (first suggested by Christian Lassen in
1840).34 The names may indeed reflect the same noun (*h3√bhé„-)35, but Estell also
shows that the two figures share similar verbal tags as regards their occupation (both
are “craftsmen ” associated with the verbal root •*tetkñ) and parentage (both fathers
are “cudgel-bearers” associated with the noun *„agñro-).
As I hope to have shown in this short survey, the oral traditions providing the basis
of poetic composition in the Archaic Age were themselves cast in a mould that
preceded much of what we associate with the “Greeks” comprising these traditions.
Some discrete comparisons may appear speculative or supported by haphazard
agreements, but if the body of evidence is judged as whole, there can be no doubt that
certain aspects of Greek poetry (prosody, formulaics, divine epithets, etc.) formed a
part of the same Indo-European continuum as the Greek dialects. The crucial issue is
rather where this continuum ends and to what extent it may still shed light upon the
development of local phenomena? Before we touch upon these issues, however, it
seems advisable to invert the perspective and start by looking at the development of
early Greek poetry as forming a part of a Hellenic continuum.
The “Cyclic” tradition
The debate on the authorship, design, and transmission of the Homeric poems and the
poems of the Epic Cycle has been going on for at least two and a half millennia,
making it one of the most tenacious scholarly issues in the West. It was a major
concern of the Hellenistic philologists, but even the rhapsodes, who were the first to
perform these texts, may have anticipated the editorial debate.36 Since my own project
does not directly relate to the final acquisition of epic poetry, but rather to that which
preceded it, this section is only meant to serve as a background based on some recent
achievements. In his new book The Tradition of the Trojan War in Homer & the Epic
Cycle, Jonathan S. Burgess gives a thorough and updated survey of the early history
of epic poetry in Greece, and I shall to a great extent follow his lead in trying to give a
short summary of this topic.
References to the “Epic Cycle” in Greek literature usually bear upon a particular
collection of epic poems, beginning with the union of Gaia and Uranus, and closing
with the return and death of Odysseus. Although titles of such poems have survived
33
Narten 1960. Cf. Kuhn 1886: 18.
Estell 1999.
35
As I have pointed out elsewhere (Jackson 2002a: 84), there may be
more to the meaning of this name than Estell himself makes out of it.
36
Burgess 2001: 13.
34
11
(Titanomachy, Oedipodia, Thebais, Epigoni, and those specifically concerning the
Trojan War (the so called “Trojan Cycle”): Cypria, Aethiopis, Little Iliad, Iliou
Persis, Nosti, Telegony), the poems themselves can only be discerned through a small
number of fragments and prose summaries. By the side of the Homeric poems, which
at least in some sense were considered to belong to the Cycle (the Iliad following the
Cypria, and the Odyssey following the Nosti), these (and possibly other, no longer
familiar) epic poems constituted an indispensable narrative resource, from which the
Archaic lyrical poets and the Attic tragedians collected the majority of their material.
The Epic Cycle was most likely manufactured in order to create a coherent
collection of epic poetry during a period subsequent to the creation of the individual
poems. Although the notion of a “cycle” of epic poetry may itself be very old37, the
collection referred to as the “Epic Cycle” was evidently familiar to the authors of the
Hellenistic period, but need not be much older than that.38 Nevertheless, some of the
poems used in the manufacturing of the Epic Cycle may at least belong to the Archaic
Age, and the oral tradition on which these poems were based was in its turn much
older. Burgess labels this tradition the “Cyclic” tradition, and his definition of this
term will remain implicit throughout this study. By “Cyclic” tradition he means “the
living pre-Homeric tradition of the Trojan War that led to the Trojan War poems in
the Epic Cycle and continued with the Cycle as a major manifestation of it. This
tradition preceded the Homeric poems but then in turn was gradually overshadowed
by them.”39
Despite the enormous influence of Homeric poetry on literature and visual art in
the Classical and Hellenistic periods, it is evident that the tradition of the Trojan War
was still an independent oral tradition in the Archaic Age. Whenever motifs outside
the Homeric corpus appear to represent the same or similar scenes as those found in
the Iliad or the Odyssey, one should consequently not take for granted that some of
the Homeric poems had served as the main source of artistic inspiration. As a matter
of fact, the majority of Trojan War images represented by artwork from the 8th and 7th
century are not even found in (or are at least not in direct accord with) the Homeric
poems, but should rather be defined as “Cyclic”.40 As regards early poetry, modern
scholarship is still open to the idea that phrases and similes attested in Homer can
only recur in other (and younger) poetic texts as Homeric allusions. This idea is most
likely wrong, and probably emerged as an effect of the gradual canonization of the
Homeric poems in latter periods. In most cases, discoveries of “intertextuality” in
early poetry would rather point to the existence of a shared oral tradition (including
formulas, phrases, and collocations of words) than to a submission to the supremacy
of Homeric poetry.41 It is also far from certain that the material found in the Epic
Cycle reflects a post-Homeric ambition to fill in the gaps left by the Homeric poems.
37
We have already seen that the metaphorical description of the
craft of poetry as the joining together of a wheel or a chariot may
belong to an Indo-European poetic heritage. This point is stressed by
Gregory Nagy (1996: 89-91), who also links this metaphor to the name
of Homer himself (“he who joins together” homo- + ar-), arguing that
(p. 90) “if this etymology is correct, then the making of the Cycle,
the sum total of epic, by the master Homer is a metaphor that
pictures the crafting of the ultimate chariot-wheel by the ultimate
carpeenter or ‘joiner.’”
38
Burgess 2001: 7ff.
39
Burgess 2001: 33.
40
Burgess 2001: 53-114.
41
Burgess 2001: 114-131
12
This ambition may have characterized the compilation of the material in the
Hellenistic period, but the individual poems are more likely to have sprung from the
same “Cyclic” tradition as the Homeric poems. Since this was a fluid oral tradition,
and since the poems were probably composed and transmitted orally before they were
written down, it is hard (if not even misleading) to imagine a fixed date of origin. But
even if the poems of the Epic Cycle were composed in post-Homeric times (as most
scholars assume), it does not necessarily follow that they were dependent on or
inspired by the Homeric poems. This being so, some problems associated with the socalled “Homeric Question” essentially concern the development of the “Cyclic”
tradition as a whole, not so much the creation of the Homeric poems as such. That this
tradition reaches far back in prehistory is generally accepted, but is it possible to be
more specific when it comes to characterizing its constituents and approximating its
age?
A focal point of Greek epic, the city of Troy or Ilios (*Ûivlio") has since the days
of Heinrich Schliemann been identified with the ruins on the hill of Hisarlõk on the
eastern shores of the Dardanelles. With the discovery of Hittite and the other
Anatolian languages, furthermore, the period and area to which the Trojan legends
seem to refer slowly emerged from the darkness of prehistory. It is now generally
assumed that the name and location of the city of Ilios coincides with that of the place
referred to by the Hittites in the 2nd millenium BC as Wilusa. The “Cyclic” tradition is
thus not the only historical fact that has to be acknowledged here, but also parts of the
narrative it transmits.
Around 1290 BC, the kingdom and city of Wilusa was drawn into conflicts
involving the prince Pijamaradu from the lands of Arzawa, the kings of the lands of
Aúúijawa, and the great Hittite kingdom. Form the early 14th century BC onwards,
Mycenean culture had constituted an important element of power along the coast of
Asia Minor, not least through its early presence in Milawanda (Miletus). There is little
doubt today that the people of Aúúijawa, as referred to in Hittite sources from the
archives of Óattuπa (the capitol of the great Hittite kingdom), should be identified
with the Mycenean Greeks and the name Aúúijawa (or Aúúia) seen as an early reflex of
the ethnonym ∆Acaioiv. In the second half of the 14th century BC, the Hittite armies
of Mursili II attacked Arzawa, which was at that time the most powerful state in
western Asia Minor. This caused the king of Arzawa, Uúúaziti, to flee from his capitol
Abasa (Ephesus), seeking the protection of the kings of Aúúiwava on the Greek
mainland. Although Uúúaziti died soon after his exile, his family remained in
the lands of Aúúiwava. The eagerness of this royal family to regain power in its native
country was most likely an underlying reason for the prince Pijmaradu (probably the
uncle of Uúúaziti) to begin political and military campaigns along the coastal districts
of Asia Minor. In doing so he was supported by the kings of Aúúiawa, who allowed
him to use Milawanda as a base of his campaigns. As an effect of these activities,
Pijamaradu also posed a direct threat to the kingdom of Wilusa, which was provided
with military support from the neighbouring state Sÿúa through instruction of the
Hittite king. Since the Hittites were concerned about the political stability in western
Asia Minor, and since king Alaksandus of Wilusa wanted to secure his position on the
throne, Alaksandus concluded a treaty with the Hittite king Muwatilli II (1290-1272),
which turned Wilusa into a Hittite vassal state. In a letter (the so called Tawaglawaletter) from the Hittite king Óattusili II (ca 1265-1240), the king of Aúúiawa is urged
to bring pressure to bear on Pijamaradu, with whom Óattusili wants to arrange a
13
meeting. It remains unclear if these efforts paid off or not, nor do we know if
Alaksandus still ruled in Wilusa at that time.42
The picture of the complex political history of western Asia Minor in the 2nd half
of the 2nd millenium BC is obviously rather blurred, and it almost invariably derives
from Hittite sources. Nevertheless is it tempting to see in some of the names of cities,
countries, peoples, and persons a pattern that is echoed in the Greek legends of the
Trojan War. It would of course be completely misleading to approach the Trojan
tradition as the representation of historical facts, but some of the events referred to in t
he Hittite sources may very well have triggered the shaping of the epic traditions
passed on by the Greeks. The very few hard facts of history that can be distinguished
in this elastic epic tradition seem to reappear in a heavily distorted form. The only
attested kings of Wilusa are Alaksandus and his predecessor Kukkunni, but in Greek
epic the name Kukkunni only (but not certainly) comes out as the name of a Trojan
ally (Kyknos). The name Alaksandus undoubtedly matches Greek Alexandros, the
other name of the Trojan prince Paris, but the name Priamos can at best be interpreted
as a reflex of the Luvian name Pari-muwas (without any documented associations
with Wilusa). It is significant that Alaksandus, in the treaty mentioned above, calls the
gods of the city as his witnesses, among which the only god mentioned, Appaliunas
(the possible restoration of ]a-ap-pa-li-u-na-aπ as preceded by a lost ideogram
DINGIR denoting “god”), is closely reminiscent of Apollo (*apelÁþn), the patron of
Troy in Greek epic.43 The fact that Alaksandus bore a Greek name suggests that he
had near relations to the people of Aúúijawa, but this people nevertheless posed an
indirect threat to his kingdom by supporting Pijamaradu. It seems reasonable to
assume that Anatolian languages were spoken in Wilusa at the time of Alaksandus
(especially Luvian44), and the description of Trojan institutions in Greek epic (such as
levirate marriage) occasionally correspond to Anatolina institutions. 45 There are,
however, neither archaeological nor historical indications of a sack of Wilusa during
the Mycenean period.
As one might expect, the discrepancy between documented history and epic
memory is quite profound, yet nothing excludes that songs of (W)ilios were already
beginning to appear in the Mycenean period46, or that these songs were to become a
mainstay in the development of the “Cyclic” tradition. The preferable medium of such
creations would have been the hexameter and other hereditary techniques of oral
composition, because there is nothing to suggest that written records were used by the
Greeks for such purposes before the 8th century BC. Even long after the development
of alphabetic writing, the composition and performance of epic poetry remained a
predominantly oral concern. Some metrical irregularities in early epic poetry can in
fact be restored if the formulas are transformed into the language of the Pylos tablets
42
For a comprehensive treatment of these issues, see Starke 1997.
Cf. dicussion in Watkins 1994 (= 1986) and 1995: 149.
44
As Frank Starke points out, this is even suggested by the
representation of the name “Wilusa” in Hittite sources.
45
Watkins 1994 (= 1986): 705f.
46
It is even possible that the Luvians had an epic lay about the
city of Wilusa (a “Wilusiad”), although nothing can be said of its
content. This was first suggested by Calvert Watkins (1994 (= 1986):
713ff.), who found a Luvian analogue to Ûivlio" aijpeinhv (“steep Ilios”),
the traditional Homeric epithet for Troy, in the isolated Luvian
verse (KBo 4.11,46) aúú=ata=ta alati awienta Wiluπati (“When they
came from steep Wilusa”). The same epithet probably recurs in the
fragmentary paragraph (KUB 35.102 (+) 103 iii 11) ýlati=tta aúúa LU´iπ awita [ (“When the the man came from steep [...”).
43
14
or an even earlier stage of linguistic development, for which there is only comparative
evidence. This and other circumstances (such as freedom in the placing of preverbs)
have led many to believe that the tradition of epic song as we know it at least reaches
back to the early Mycenean period (ca 1700 BC).47
Since there is both external and internal evidence for the use of metrical patterns
and a poetic vocabulary that precede the historical period to which the epic poems
seem to refer, it is reasonable to assume that this pre-historical period consisted of
more than empty techniques and obsolete vocabulary. Many of the narratives were
probably just as traditional as the narrative techniques. As suggested by the treatment
of indigenous myths in Rome48, it is possible that the Greeks located traditional (or
mythical) stories in a historical or pseudo-historical environment. In the Archaic and
Classical periods, however, the Mycenean past was already distant enough to form
association with a mythical past, and many of the persons and places associated with
this age had already become the foci of religious attention. Consequently, the stories
located in this environment should not first of all be held to relate a partly forgotten
historical past, nor should we assume that they originally developed in this
environment. As I will try to show in the chapters to follow, important aspects of the
thematic framework subsequently associated with the tradition of the Trojan War may
respond to a much older, extra-Trojan tradition, which was perhaps more coherent
than so far assumed. It is accordingly not only the echoes of discrete mythical motifs
in Greek epic that shall concern us in the following, but also their logic of
combination.
47
48
Joachim Latacz (with comprehensive bibliography) 1988: 14-16.
See especially Georges Dumézil 1966.
15
II. Father Heaven, Heaven’s daughter, and the Divine Twins
The tradition of Helen and the Dioscuri exhibits some archaic features that have
attracted much attention over the years, especially among scholars interested in the
Indo-European aspects of Greek mythology. The issue has been dealt with in different
methodological fashions and scholarly opinions are divided as to the general value
and scope of Indo-European comparanda in the field of myth. Although I principally
remain optimistic to this endeavor, I would agree with some recent critics that such
approaches might run the risk of producing contemporary myths instead of
highlighting old ones.49 I argued above that the notion of an Indo-European “culture”
should be treated with particular caution, not because such a culture could never have
existed, but because its seems futile to reconstruct such a culture on the basis of what
other cultures have passed on as parts of their own heritage.
This chapter is concerned with recurrent themes and onomastic traits in the Greek
mythology that seem to have the same (or a similar) background as the Vedic
treatment of the Sky-god’s (Dyaus) desire for and intercourse with his own daughter
and the consequences of this event. Although the series of successive components are
far from identical in the two traditions, the interfaces (both within and between the
two) are unpredictable to such an extent that is reasonable to assume development
from a shared tradition. I will start from descriptions of the conception and birth of
Helen and the Dioscuri, but instead of moving immediately from this topic to that of
the Vedic Discuri (the A¢vins or Nýsatyas) I intend to look closer at some details in
the thematization of conception and birth as they recur elsewhere in Greek
mythology. I will also pay attention to the figure of Dawn and some of the themes and
figures with which she was associated in Greek mythology. Having done this, I will
present the Vedic and post-Vedic comparanda with regard to two narrative motifs (the
rape of the Dawn-goddess and the wedding Saran‰y¨), explain how these motifs can
be linked together within the Vedic tradition, and subsequently compare the Vedic
and the Greek material.
The rape of Nemesis
The ancestry of Helen and the Dioscuri was rendered differently in early Greek
literature. This is apparent from the scholia to Pindar, Nem. 10,80: “Hesiod, however,
renders Helen (a child) neither of Leda nor of Nemesis, but of a daughter of Okenaos
and Zeus” (oJ mevntoi ÔHsivodo" ou[te Lhvda" ou[te Nemesevw" divdwsi th;n
ÔElevnhn, ajlla; qugatro;" ∆Wkeanou` kai; Diov"). Both Leda and Nemesis could be
regarded as mothers of all three children in two distinct (but similar) versions of the
same tradition. The notion that Leda was the mother to the Dioscuri, but merely
adopted the daughter of Nemesis (as suggested by Apollodorus (Lib. 3,10,7)), need
not be more than an attempt to synthesize two contradictory versions. The idea that
Hesiod rendered Helen a child, not of Nemesis or Leda, but “of a daughter of
Okeanos”, is particularly confusing in the light of the fact that Okenaos was in fact
understood as the father of Nemesis according to some authors (e.g. Pausanias 7,5,3).
If Hesiod really did refer to an “∆Wkeanou` qugavthr” as the mother of Helen it is
therefore likely that he intended Nemesis, but that the scholiast for some reason did
not recognize Nemesis behind this epithet.
49
See especially Lincoln 1999.
16
The story of Zeus and Nemesis in the Cypria seems to be the earliest full treatment
of the conception of Helen. The passage in all likelihood preceded a now lost
treatment of the conception and birth of the Dioscuri. Although the text clearly
indicates that the Dioscuri were conceived earlier (in contrast to some accounts of the
story of Leda and the Swan), it is never explicitly stated that they had another mother.
According to Il. 3,238, Helen had “the same” mother as the Dioscuri (twv moi miva
geivnato mhvthr). There is to my knowledge no explicit reference to Leda as the
mother of Helen in Homer, Hesiod, or the Epic Cycle (the earliest evidence for Leda
as the mother of Helen being Euripides Hel. 16-22, 257-9 and Iph. Aul. 49-51, 794800), but according to the so-called Nekyia (Od. 11,298), Leda is the mother of the
Dioscuri. An early witness of the notion that Leda adopted someone else’s offspring is
Sappho (P.M.G. 166: “once Leda found a dark blue egg” (pota Lhvdan uJakivnqinon
... w[ion eu[ren)). This fragment could be an early testimony of the tradition referred
to by Apollodorus, but it need not derive from exactly the same source as the Cypria.
Although the Cypria does not seem to have contained the tradition that Helen and the
Dioscuri were born from the same egg, such traditions may indeed have existed.50 The
argument that this motif was borrowed from the tradition of Leda51 is inconclusive,
because both traditions (Leda and Nemesis giving birth to an egg after being raped by
Zeus) are so strikingly similar that they are likely to have a common background. I
will content myself with observing that the different versions (Nemesis and Zeus as
the parents of Helen or both Helen and the Dioscuri, Leda and Zeus as the parents of
the Dioscuri and/or Helen, Leda and Zeus as the parents of Polydeuces and Helen,
Leda adopting someone else’s offspring (Helen and/or the Dioscuri))52 may all be old,
but that none of them should take precedence of the other as to the original identity of
the mother. It seems unlikely, however, that both Leda and Nemeis occurred in one
and the same version as victims of rape by Zeus in the form of a swan and then giving
birth to one egg each, whereupon Leda finds and hatches the egg of Nemesis. The
versions in which Leda functions as Helen’s wet-nurse did probably not (at least not
at an early date) contain the story of Leda and the swan. As suggested by a fragment
from Philodemus’ book Peri; eujsevbeia53, antique authors must have noticed that the
two motifs (the metamorphosis and the birth of an egg) were strikingly similar.
Having referred to the story of Nemesis as related in the Cypria (ta; Kuvªpria),
Philodemus states that Zeus “in like manner” (w{sªpºeªïr) transformed into a swan
when he desired Leda. However, this observation rather indicates that Philodemus
was familiar with what happened to be (although he may not have been aware of it
himself) alternative versions of the same tradition, not with discrete motifs in
unconnected traditions or successive motifs in the same version of the tradition.
Apart from the shape-shifting theme, one further detail in the following
description is of some importance for my arguments in the following, namely
that Nemesis’ transformations into different animals could be understood as a
means to avoid incest:
tou;" de; mevta tritavthn ÔElevnhn tevke, qau`ma brotoi`si ...54
E.g. the scholia to Lycophron 88 and to Callimachus, Dian. 232.
Pauly-Wissova, s.v. “Nemesis” 2344.
52
Pauly-Wissova, s.v. “Leda”, 1119f.
53
Wilhelm Cröner 1901: 109.
54
Friedrich Gottlieb Welcker (1849: 514) was the first one to
suggest that Athenaeus may have left out some verses from the Cypria
between the first and the second verse of the quotation. Athenaeus
cited the Cypria because he wanted to show that its author
50
51
17
th;n pote kallivkomo" Nevmesi" filovthti migei`sa
Zhni; qew`n basilh`i tevken kraterh`" uJp∆ ajnavgkh".
feu`ge ga;r oujd∆ e[qelen micqhvmenai ejn filovthti
patri; Dii; Kronivwni: ejteivreto ga;r frevna" aijdoi`
kai; nemevsei: kata; gh`n de; kai; ajtruvgeton mevlan u{dwr
feu`gen, Zeu;" d∆ ejdivwke: labei`n d∆ ejliaiveto qumw`i.
a[llote me;n kata; ku`ma polufloivsboio qalavssh"
ijcquvi eijdomevnh, povnton polu;n ejxorovqunen,
a[llot∆ ajn∆ ÔWkeano;n potamo;n kai; peivrata gaivh",
a[llot∆ ajn∆ h[peiron polubwvlaka. givgneto d∆ aijei;
qhriv∆ o{s∆ h[peiro" aijna; trevfei, o[fra fuvgoi nin.
(Cypria fr. 7, Davies)
“but after them (the Dioscuri) she gave birth to a third (child), Helen, a wonder to
mortals ... Beautiful-haired Nemesis once gave birth to her, having had intercourse
with Zeus, the king of the gods, under harsh violence. She fled because she did not
want to have intercourse with (her?) father Zeus, the son of Kronos; because .
Although the impending rape may certainly be a sufficient cause for Nemesis’ shame
and anger, it seems as if Hugh G. Evely-White, in his translation of the passage (“her
father”), took the reference to Zeus as pavthr in line 5 as implying more than a casual
usage of the epithet “father Zeus”. . This would indeed support my argumentation in
the following, but it cannot be inferred from this or other texts dealing with the
conception of Helen and the Dioscuri that the motif involved incest. True, Nemesis
was explicitly referred to as “Dio;" pai`"” under the name of “Adrasteia” (Euripides,
Rhes. 342), and it is obvious that the Attic tragedians used “Adrasteia” as an epithet of
Nemesis (cf. also Aeschylus, Prom. 93555). However, the paternal genealogy of
Nemesis is quite ambiguous.56 ... It would consequently be too far-fetched to regard
incest as a leading topic in the passage quoted from the Cypria.
Neverthelss, the link between Nemesis and Adrasteia. It is a curious fact is that the
later men of Troy are told to have worshiped the apotheosized Helen as “Adrasteia”57,
which perfectly balances Helen’s association with the word nemevsi" (literally
meaning “retribution” or, more specifically, “righteous anger”) in the Iliad.58 MER
OM VAD NEMESIS OCH HELENA HAR GEMENSAMT. Lindsay point s to
further examples of
represented Nemesis changing into a fish, and the first line would
then clarify who was intended by th;n in the second line. To Welcker,
as I understand his argumentation, a lacuna would make it more
probable that Nemesis was the subject of tevke in the first line,
which also seems to have been the opinion of Athenaeus. It is not
quite clear, however, if the tradition of emending the text with a
lacuna between line 1 and 2 (as passed on in the editions of Bethe,
Allen, and Davies), has been maintained for the reason that Welcker
originally proposed.
55
oiJ proskunou`nte" th;n ∆Adravsteian sofoiv “those who do obeisance to
Adrasteia (lit. ‘that-which –cannot-be-run-away-from’) are wise” (J.
E. Harry 1905: 292). Cf. the expression proskunw` de; th;n Nevmesin at
the end of a letter (Alciphron, Ep. 1,33).
56
H. Herter 1935 (RE XVI 2, 2362).
57
Farnell 1921: 324 and Welcker 1849: 135
58
See discussion in Austin 1994: 43.
18
The stories of Nemesis and Leda are certainly not the only ones in Greek
mythology involving a motif that could be loosely defined as “bestial rape”.59 By
approaching these stories from a sociological perspective, J. E. Robson understands
them as being didactic and symbolic treatments of the attitudes towards marriageable
females and women’s views of marriage and male sexuality that helped to define and
uphold the institutions of the Greek city-state and the Greek world-order.60 They were
focused on the boundaries that should not be crossed by women in order to avoid
rape, but also on the dangers of resisting sanctioned sex. According to Robson, the
“bestial” myth usually takes on one of three typical forms: 1) the god is transformed
into an animal and rapes the girl (Antiope/Zeus, Canace/Poseidon, Dryope/Apollo,
Europa/Zeus, Leda/Zeus, Melantho/Poseidon, Persephone/Zeus, Philyra/Kronos); 2)
the girl is transformed into an animal but is nonetheless raped (Metis/Zeus,
Psamathe/Aeacus, Taygete/Zeus, Thetis/Peleus); 3) both god and girl are changed into
an animal before the sexual act (Asterie/Zeus (or Poseidon), Nemesis/Zeus,
Theophane/Poseidon).61 As exemplified by the stories of Nemesis and Leda, however,
alternative versions of the same tradition need not be restricted to the same group.
Although “rape” is used as a keyword by Robson, caution should be observed insofar
as the word is considered to exclude subsequent consent to sex. The rape of women in
Greek mythology may in fact often, especially if the perpetrator is a god, be classified
as seduction rather than rape, because several accounts of such encounters neither
speak of disgrace or of forcible abduction.62
We may pay further attention to the sociological subtext of this theme by
proceeding from Robson’s (SIDA 77) observation that bestial rape or seduction often
results in heroic offspring. ... Se aäven Deacy’s study in the same book (s. 44).
Dioscuri not really divine (antyds i Nekyia). There are also (and more specifically)
stories in which Zeus or Poseidon beget twins that are subsequently recognized as
progenitors or founders of cities. Some of these are found in the Nekyia (Neleus and
Pelias from Poseidon and Tyro (11,235ff), Amphion and Zethus from Zeus and
Antiope (11,260ff)), others occur elsewhere but nonetheless give an archaic
impression (Aiolos and Boiotos from Poseidon and Melanippe, Minos and
Rhadamanthys (and Sarpedon) from Zeus and Europa). The scheme looks as follows:
1) if Zeus or Poseidon desires a goddess or woman he has a habit of transforming
himself (sometimes in order to conceal their identity), 2) she may change her shape in
order to escape him, 3) she is likely to give birth to a human child or a pair of twins,
4) she sees a reason to hide her offspring or to abandon it, whereupon it is found and
nurtured by someone else (preferably an animal and eventually a shepherd), 5) the
offspring will be distinguished as heroic, as progenitor of a people, or as founder of a
city. It is easy to recognize aspects of such stories as a legitimation of power and as
typical markers of rulership. The first ruler is descended from a god, he is left behind
by his real parents and eventually turns up among humans (often through the medium
of a shepherd) beyond the locus of conception and birth, as if fallen from the sky,
without any predecessors that would otherwise have obstructed the image of a
primordial and incomparable ruler.
As mentioned above, the Nekyia also alludes to the story of Leda and the Dioscuri
(11,298ff), which suggests that the Dioscuri (although here regarded as the sons of
Tyndareus) also conformed to this general pattern, at least in the composition of the
59
For a discussion of this topic, see J. E. Robson 1997: 65-96.
Robson 1997: 82f.
61
Robson 1997: 74.
62
Lefkowiz 1993.
60
19
Nekyia. It is noteworthy that the divine nature of the Dioscuri is not taken for granted
in this passage, but that they rather appear as apotheosized heroes. The topic of
kingship in association with the Dioscuri
Dioscuri, Melanippe, Neleus and Pelias (se övr Preller), Zeus and Antiope
(Apollodorus 3,5,5 (s 337), Zeus and Europa, Poseidon and Mestra (M-W, fr. 43a.5557). Lefkowitz s. 25. Aeschylus Weir Smyth 599-603. Citatet frånb Ion lämpligt
exempel (Lefkowitz 27) of–though it will not happen. Okeanidens transformation
(Lerfkowitz 30). The importance of cattle (Apollodorus 3,5,5 and in the story of
Melanippe Lindsay 119)
It is common to associate kingship with a miraculous conception and adoption
(Arthur). It marks out the king as superhuman and ... andras anspråk på tillhöra
samma ätt.
Apart from this subtext, it would also seem relevant to look at the interface between
such themes and figures that also share features outside this thematic pattern.
This eventually means paying attention to themes and figures that are not directly
associated with the “bestial” myth, but rather with a more complex structure in which
metamorphosis and rape could form an integral part. In doing this, it is my belief that
aspects of older and faded (perhaps even tacit) traditions can be uncovered.
Shape-shifting, rape, and corov"
A key event in the Cyclic tradition, the mating of Zeus and Nemesis is in more than
one way comparable with that of Peleus and Thetis. First of all one recognizes similar
thematic traits in the two stories, especially regarding the function of shape-shifting.
Secondly, the progenies with which the two stories are associated, Helen and
Achilles, have other characteristics in common with regard to their roles in the epic
plot. Both figures are causes for the war and subsequent sufferings on which the
whole tradition is centered, they are a ph`ma (“misery”) for mankind. In this role, the
two figures constitute essential parts in the fulfillment of Zeus’ plan to relieve the
Earth of overpopulation (cf. Cypria fr. 1, Davies).63 The interpretation of Helen and
Achilles as the instruments of the Dio;" boulhv is well-attested in the scholiastic
tradition, and it is possible that a story of over- and depopulation was the source from
which the Cyclic tradition once developed. 64 Another common characteristic of Helen
and Achilles is that they are the only figures in the Iliad who wish for their own
deaths.65 In the light of these facts, it is reasonable to regard the thematic similarities
between the stories of Nemesis and Thetis as an appendage to the structural
agreement of Helen and Achilles.
The story of Peleus and Thetis is already hinted at by the epic poets. The shapeshifting motif is first literary attested with certainty in Pindar and the Tragedians. It is
also seen on three Etruscan bronze tripods from around 520 BC.66 Furthermore, Glenn
W. Most’s attempt to interpret Alcman’s enigmatic cosmogonic fragment (fr. 5, Page)
as an allusion to the myth of Thetis’ metamorphoses suggests that the motif was
63
64
65
66
Mayer 1996: 12.
Mayer 1996: 1ff.
Mayer 1996: 12.
Krieger 1975: 10f.
20
already a focus of philosophical speculation in the 7th century. As the story is told by
Pindar and others following upon him, Zeus and Poseidon, both desiring the Nereid
Thetis, are warned by Themis that the son of Thetis will be more powerful than his
father. It is decided that Thetis is to be given as wife to the mortal Peleus. Peleus
steals upon Thetis on a full moon evening, but in order to win her he has to hold her
fast as she assumes different forms (fire, snake, lion, etc.). According to a Papyri from
Herculaneum (fr 2, Davies), both Hesiod and the author of the Cypria handed over a
slightly different version of the story, in which Zeus swears that Thetis has to become
the wife of a mortal since she has avoided marriage with him (in order to please
Hera).
Some modern commentators draw the conclusion that Thetis and the other Nereids
were dancing at the event of the rape.67 Although this would indeed apply to the
general literary and artistic characterization of the Nereids, I have not found explicit
references to dancing in the sources containing the story of Peleus and Thetis.
KORRIGERA DETTA !!!! Nevertheless, the possibility that Thetis and the other
Nereids were performing a ring-dance at a sacred dancing-ground (corov") at the time
of the rape may be considered relevant for the following discussion. Indirect support
for this possibility is found in literary descriptions of the Nereids, occasionally also as
they appear at the wedding of Peleus and Thetis (cf. Euripides, Ion 1078ff, Iph. Taur.
427ff, Iph. Aul. 1055, Himerius (Eclogue XIII, 21). In all these passages, the keyword
is either the verb corevw or the noun corov". There are, furthermore, icongraphic data
suggesting that the rape took place at a dancing-ground or while the Nereids were
dancing... In Greek epic, the corov" is not only the locus of sexual arousal and rape
(cf. the examples listed in Lawler 1964: 42f.68), but it is also a place particularly
associated with the goddess Eos and her supposed hypostasis Aphrodite. D. D.
Boedeker has treated this topic in detail in her study of Aphrodite’s entry into Greek
epic.69 She argues that the word corov" refers to a dancing-ground that was also a type
of cult place inherited from pre-Greek religion. This cult was aimed at goddesses of
fertility and growth, which in Greek society needed not be of cthonic origin. Boedeker
also makes clear that the word, from the point of view of both etymological and
philological evidence, was associated with the abode of the Sun and Dawn. According
to Boedeker, the goddess Eos (and her Indo-European precursor) in fact constitutes an
underlying impetus of the thematic associations of corov". Cf. Boedeker s. 61. Eos is
neither raped, nor does she shift shape. There are several depictions of Eos pursuing
mortals, her arms outstreched etc.
The figures and stories presented in this chapter seem directly or indirectly associated
with the corov". It is in fact more than the locus or background of some typical
mythical events. It is a nexus ... Greek and Vedic. Apart from the interfaces of Greek
and Vedic as regards the Dawn-goddess and the dancing-ground discussed so far, I
see here another possible link between the two traditions, namely the fact that the
Vedic Dawn-goddess is the subject of rape in the context of theriomorphic shapeshifting. Consequently, the corov" as a locus of sexual arousal and rape may be
regarded as a “missing link”, as the remaining trace of traditions that were either lost
67
Cf, for instance, M. Meyer (1937) (RE VI A, 209): “in einer
Vollmondnacht, wie sie (Thetis) mit ihren Schwester-Nereiden den
Reigen tanzt, lauert er (Peleus) ihr auf, springt hervor, um sie zu
ergreifen.”
68
69
Boedeker 1974: 43-63.
21
or transformed beyond recognition in Greek mythology. We are only able to retrieve
these traditions if they can be shown to havING survived in societies sharing parts of
the same heritage as the Greeks.
END UP DAWN. FOLLOWED BY THE NATURE OF DAWN AND HELEN
Helen’s role as sister of the Dioscuri and daughter of Zeus and Leda/Nemesis would
not give us any obvious reason to compare her fate with that of her mother, but a
closer look at the features that she shared with other females in Greek mythology
brings her somewhat closer to the typology of rape and shape-shifting.
Tacitus Alcis (möjl jfr h2elk/h2leks (Gr. alkÿ´/aléxþ, rák˜ati), Alkinóos,
“näsetymologin” anspelning på den i RV 2,39,6): ný´seva nas tanúvo rak˜itý´rý. “as the
noose (be) the protectors of our body!” The simile seems a little far-fetched, so one
may assume that the poet rather wanted ný´seva nas to serve as an echo of the name
Ný´satyau. These would then be the rak˜itý´rý (nom.sg. *h2leks?-tór) of the body.
Stesicorus 209 not 3: hänv. till Od. 15,160ff the portent of an eagle clutching a goose.
Alkiman om ytterligare ett försök att våldta Helena, Lindsay 116 (hänv. Alkman
(Page 6). Slutet av Aristofanes Lysistrata visar att Helena ledde den dansande
flickkören i Sparta (Lindsay 118). Helena som khoragos i flicksången (Lindsay 119).
Melanippe (Lindsay 96) föder tvillingar efter att ha blivit våldtagen av Poseidon). Se
även Lindsay 119 och kopplingen mellan Helena och historien om Mellanippe. We
may recall that at least in late times the poloi of the Leukippides were linked with a
boy priest apparently called bouagor or ox-herd; Hesychios mentions the ox-plough,
poupharon; anmd the twins of the black mare, Mellanippe, were connected with bull
and cow. But even if Helen was not Aoits, the Maidensong certainly shows a sort of
dance-song with which she was associated at Sparta and in which she acted as
daimon, as spirit choragos.
Poseidon avlar tvillingar enl. fast mönster. Se Preller Gr. Myth. 588. Poseidon
dyrkades under namnet Enipeus i Miletos (se Preller 579 not 2). Ang. kultnamnet
Enipeus, jfr Od. 5,446 seeking to escape the threats of Poseidon.
Tvillingar som grundar städer (eller uppfattas som stamfäder) efter att ha avlats av
Zeus eller Poseidon, företrädesvis i djurform, ammas av djur. Remus och Romulus?!
Puhvel tar fel när han försöker ignorera de grekiska sagorna. Exempel hos Preller 588.
Att detta var en topos redan hos Homeros framgår av Od. 11,235ff.
Poseidon och nereiden Ampitryon Preller 596f, även hon våldtas när hon danser.
Poseidon avlar Fajakernas konung Preller 622.
The name reconstructed as swelene by Skutsch and claimed to have merged with
Helen really looks very much as Selene. This would mean that there were two
goddesses, at least in Sparta, Welene and Selene, both derived from *Swelene. This
seems rather unlikely. Corinna (gr.Lyr IV s. 59). Aos drew the moons holy
light.Alkman: Selana och daggen, Zeus dotter s. 435.
F. Zeitlin “configurations of rape in Greek myth” (in Tomaselli, S. ed. Rape), Keuls
Reign of the Phallus (s.50).
22
Thetis dansar? Alkman fr. Most s. 16. Pind Isth. 8 fullmåne fotnot. Helen, Aphrodite,
Thetis kan alla ses som manifestationer av Eos. Slatkin om Memnon 23. Slatkin 27.
Thetis egen utsaga i Il 18,429ff. Zeus vill själv gifta sig med henne Cypria 4.
Jfr Mosts (s. 6) didaktiska aspekter på Alkman med Robson
Varför inte digamma i namnet Helena (s. 396) hos Alkman när ex. wékaton (s. 426)?
från hekás afar, wépÿ s. 424, wepéþn 416
Fajakernas hem khoros Boedeker 60
Hästoffer Prajapati. Mortal and god Vivasvat Peleus
eidolon redan hos Hesiodos West fr. 358
Eos/Thetis. Slatkin: 31 their relationship is structurally homologous, not historical.
formulaics Thetis tidig s. 32.
Although this name . Clader Euripides Rhes 342.
Pauly Leda1110. Schol. Eur. Or. 1371.
RESTER
... Carpentry (its implications, weave poikelom) ... Metrics (controversial, Nagy and
Watkins) ... Bipartite formulas (några exempel) .... Patterns of mythical speeech and
(Hesiod dierkhetai, orthos omikhein) ... The pantborheon (Dyaus/Varuna, metaphors
for the mantle of the nocturnal sky)... The concept of the hero (exempel i West 1988).
SPEKULATION: Zeus decision to bring about the Trojan War, his boule (cf. Myth
of Yama) (West JHS 1988, 156. R. Köhler, Rh. Mus. xiii (1858) 316f. Pisani 156f., W
Kullmann, Philologu xcix 1955, 186). Om khoros som våldtäktsscen i assoc. med
Afrod. och Helena. Läs Boedeker, 43ff. Od. m1-4 Eos och Khoros. Boedeker 59.
Plut. Theseus 31.2. (Boed. 48). Two sons of Helen, one by M. one by P. (Burgess
163). Fr. 12 Bernabé = Fr. 10 Davies. Disk. Severnys 1928, 380-382. Thetis avoided
union with Zeus. Kypria 4. Bakgrunden till Achilles födelse. Thetis våldtas av Peleus,
hon antar olika skepnader, försöker undfly. Ovidius 11.243f. Mönstret jfr RV Dyaus
åtrår U, gifter bort henne med dödlig, hon föder A¢. Motiven replikerar på olika
nivåer. En oöverblickbar soppa. Wests bok om Helena från 1975.
Achilles (Thetis) and Memnon (Eos) as pair, strucural similarity (Boedeker, 15).
It concerns the Sky-god’s desire for his own daughter. jfr. Khoros as a typical site for
rape (Boedeker 48). A typical statement (Boedeker, 30), The role of Dyaus in Indic
religion had faded so much...
Börja III eller sluta II med denna formulering (Burgess s. 48): “The study of oral
poetics has shown that the Homeric poems inherited the mechanics of poetic
composition that developed over the centuries, and it is only to suppose that they
inherited traditional stories, not just technique.” This statement specifically refers to
the Homeric poems and their inheritance of pre-Homeric composition mechanics and
traditional stories. However, one may apply a similar perspective on the Cyclic
tradition as a whole. Since it is evident that this tradition preserved Indo-European
23
mechanics of poetic composition, one may suppose that this was also partly true of
the STORIES.
It is hard to be a Popperian when it comes to mythology, and even more so in the case
of Indo-European mythology, but what we can do is making more or less plausible
claims regarding the change and diversification of transmitted information.
One should not rule out the idea that the mechanisms of mythical language, as
understood synchronically by Barthes, also could apply (or at least find some
equivalence) diachronically. This would mean that, in the course of time, the myth is
once more reduced to a signifier, and that this waste-product becomes invested with
new meaning. New myths are born from the mould produced by their evacuated
precursors. Essentially the theory of memes (Blackmore, the stuff that memes are
made of)
Just as the transmission of language, the transmission of myth is a continuous, yet
extremely turbulent process. Rhadamanthys and Yama in flood-story. The birth of
humankind and the depopulation of earth.
Religion emerges from the manipulation of expedient beliefs and practices, the
shifting from a first- to a second-order perspective (the “James ossuary” in the case of
the museum, but also the museum as an environment in which religious qualities are
neutralized: the Byzantine icon or other objects of devotion). On a technological level,
this is exemplified by the intentional destruction or relocation of artifacts, or by
redundant moments in the manufacturing process. This is essentially what turns a sign
or a natural object into a symbol. Beliefs and practices that do not serve first-order
purposes, but that nonetheless endure in a recognizable form. Religion often involves
violation (both religious activities, such as the intentional destruction of expedient
things, or belifs, such as those violating intuition), but it is also a form of violation
that must be handed over intact.
Even if this process may create meaning, this does not imply that it has meaning in
itself or that the meaning it creates is reversible. When it comes to linguistic usage in
general, it necessarily already involves meaning, but the fact that an instruction or a
description has meaning does not lead on to the conclusion that the practice in which
someone is being instructed or the thing being described has a fixed meaning. It rather
acquires meaning, and the meaning may change from time to time and from place to
place.
The Museum is such a locus of transformation.
Läs om nytta i ekonomisk teori.
In the palaeolithic archaeological record: evidence for
intentional destruction and the preservation of objects from “lost” cultures.
Gerhard Richter’s Plattenspieler.
Skaldens vägmetafor i Odysséns 1:a bok.
24
Offertemat: betonas att Odysseus offrade till Zeus och därför bör skonas. Hetärernas
antioffer leder till motsatsen. Detta tema återkommer i olika syndaflodsberättelser.
Manu och Noa. Bhujyu? Pauruua. Dett är gudfruktiga människor som räddas.
A¢vinerna ej värdiga offret, eftersom de rör sig bland människor. Kan bakgrunden till
“cykeln” vara en syndaflodsberättelse. Manu and Yama not only figure in a
cosmogonic myth, but also in myths of a deluge or destruction of mankind. Yama in
the Ir. story of his sin, the over-population of earth, and Manu in the flood story in ¢b
1.8.1.6 (Malamoud 18). Both figures are closely associated with sacrifice. Interesting
also as typological comparanda the semitic flood story, in which sacrifice plays a part.
Yama and Manu are the children of Saranyu/savarna and Vivasvat.
A myth of the origin of mankind and the gods attempt to destroy it. Only devout
mortal is rescued. Sacrifice his only way to overcome the wrath of the gods.
First now are we slowly starting to get a fair picture of Catullus. IN a new study he
appears as a socially engaged poet, who criticized the strictly hierarchical and
patriarchal social life with sharp allusions.
--All since the 14th century, Catullus has formed a natural part of the literary heritage of
the Antiquity. But if one is to believe the American scholar Christopher Nappa from
the University of Minesota, we still have to rediscover the “real” Catullus. Earlier
research on Catullus and the tradition of reading him have all to long imposed a
RASTER., which has blocked a a more genuine understanding of his work: Catullus
has either been read in a simplistic biographical manner, or he has been too tightly
attached to the hellenistic pattern that the writer himself points out – roughly speaking
the tradition from Alexandria with Kalimachos (in the 3rd century) as its foremost
name. That is at least the basic idea in Nappas study. A biographical reading is
problematic already of the simple reason that our knowledge of Catullus’ life is
limited. We know that he was born in Verona sometime in the mid 80ies BC; the
family was wealthy and could afford to send the son to studies in Rome. And there,
drawn into the local NÖJESLIVET, he was blinded by the beautiful upper-class
woman referred to as Lesbia in his poems.
RVedic Khila (11,5), ascribing the name (once more with apposition):
yád vým mýtý´ úpa ý´ti˜tùhad ugraÚ suv√dráthaÚ avyatheyáÚ
sarán‰y¨h‰ (cf. the emmendtations in J. Scheftelowitz’ edition (1906:
67).
jfr. RV 1,116,17:
ý´ výÚ ráthaÚ duhitý´ s¨´riyasya ký´˜rmevýti˜tùhad árvatý jáyant^
Metrik. Watkins kap. 55. paroemiacs < Ú ≠ ≠ < <≠
paroemiacs < Ú ≠ ≠ < <≠
paroemiacs < Ú ≠ ≠ < <≠
kairo;" d∆ epi; pa`sin a[risto" (< < ≠ ≠ < ≠ ≠ < <≠)
25
kairo;" d∆ epi; pa`sin a[risto" (< < ≠ ≠ < ≠ ≠ < <≠)
kairo;" d∆ epi; pa`sin a[risto" (< < ≠ ≠ < ≠ ≠ < <≠)
Många viktiga punkter i Mayers artikel om Helena och Zeus boule. Parallellism
Akhilles och Helena båda instrument. Nemesis, Helena och Akhilles är alla pema.
Nemesis och Helena delvis utbytbara. Märk väl att Nemesis är dotter till Okeanus,
vilket även gäller Helena enl. Hesiod. (urspr. Zeus våldtar Okeanus dotter. Helen är
själv Nemesis Austin 43. MEN Detaljer i berättelserna om deras konception och
födelse är slående. Thetis enl. Slatkin också en Eos. Hennes metamorfos disk s. 81ff
(Alkman fr. 5, Pind Istm 8, Nem 4,62-5 Thetis förvandlingar.). Möjl. redan Hesiodos
West 210. Most kan dock inte bekr. att förvandlingsmotivet finns redan hos Hesiodos
och i Kypria. Most i CQ37,1 1987: 1-19.Dancing feet.Q Annan viktig detalj är detalj i
Hesiodos katalog (66, s.191). Likn metamorfos. Kronos avlar Kentauren Kheiron (den
som förmäler Thetis och Peleus (Isthm. 8,41) med Okeanus dotter Philyra i hästgestalt
(Titanomakhia 6). Arbeta in detta tema utförl. Thetis och khoros.
1. GOD + GODDESS (DAUGHTER) = MORTAL CHILD
2. GODDESS + MORTAL = MORTAL CHILD
3. RAPE + KHOROS
4. RAPE + METAMORPHOSIS
5. PEMA
6. ADULTERY
7. INCEST
1
2
3
4
MEN
Achiles
x
Anchises
x
Kheiron
x
Memnon
x
Peleus
x
x
Tithonus
x
WOMEN
Helen
x
x
GODS
Poseidon
x
Kronos
x
x
Zeus
x
x
“GODDESSES”
Aphrodite
x
x
Dioscuri
x
Eos
x
Nemesis
x
x
x
Oceanus
x
Philyra
x
26
5
6
7
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
Thetis
x
x
x
Fajakerna som hembringare. Poseidon försöker hindra. Jfr. demonen,
havsvidundret i Traitanalegenden Y/RV. Odysseus offrar.
Prajýpati och Poseidon (”herre”). Ap. Nap. i RV 2,35,8d: pra jayant ... ca
prajabhih.
Ushas liknas vid en häst ringkomposition. hennes förbindelse med
A¢vinerna. 4,52,2.
Ushas föds och vid sidan om henne Vivasvats dagshälfter 10,39,12.
Koppling mellan Vivasvat och Ushas.
Eos (Aos) med epitetet pótnia Sappho fr. 157 (ev. fr. 6). h. Ven 223, 230.
jfr. RV (om U˜as) 3,61,4 (+ genitiv); 7,75,4 (+ genitiv); 7,76,6 vý´japatni1,122,2 (pluralis), 4,5,13 (pluralis, + genitiv, här häven dev^´r, jfr diaSchmitt). Jfr även 7,75,4 abhipá¢yant^ vayúný jánýnýÚ “observing the
ways of men (i.e. ‘the born ones’)” jfr Schmittt
Varuna medhira RV 1, 25,20. paragraf 346: faesivmbroto" ÔHwv" “die
Menchen sehend” Antogs ej ha gamla rötter eftersom motsvarande formel
i RV och Av (med (vi+bhý) ej hade med synen att göra. Leukippos
Whitehorsed Dawn Bakh. 281. Även leukopolos (Preller 441). Eos
ridande på en vit häst. Dioskurern och Leukippides. Apollon förför
Leukippos i h.Apollo 212. Roscher argumenterar art Leukipiden s. 1992
att Leukippidernas far Leukippos antagligen urspr. var Helios, senare
identifierad med Apollon. Den fördoriska Helioskulten i Tainaron. Detta
förklarar också ett av namnen på Leukippiderna, Phoibe ref till Preller s.
98? Preller s. 448 om Phaetonsarkofagen, föreställande Dioskurerna. Om
det stämmer att det finns en övertygande koppling mellan
Leukippos/Apollon och en tidigare Helioskult ser vi här en parallel till
A¢vinerna och Surasya duh. Helios antingen Uranos veller Zeus öga
(Preller omHelios). Wilde 192 Dionysoskultren i Epidauros deras ankn.
till läkekonsten och anknytning till Helios.
4,24,8 (till Indra)
10,85,39 (till Agni, obest.)
1,82,6 (till Indra, Indras maka)
10,39,11 (till A¢vin, oklart)
10,30,12 (till vattnen)
1,62,11 (till Indra, obest.)
1,179,,2 (Agastya och Lopýmurý, obest.)
27
7,34,20 (till alla, obest. ”wenn die Gattinen zu uns kommen, so soll Tv.
mit den geschickten Händen und Söhne schaffen”)
1,62,10 (till Indra, obest.)
1,186,7 (till alla, obest.)
5,46,7 (till alla, obest))
1,103,7 (till Indra, obest)
5,41,6 (till alla, obest)
10,30,10 (till vattnen (se ovan))
1,112,19 (till A¢vin, Vimadas fruar)
5,44,5 (till alla, oklart)
1,22,9 (till alla, obest.)
5,50,3 (till alla, obest.)
3,6,9 (till Agni, obest.)
4,56,4 (till himmel och jord, obest.)
compounds
výjapatni 1 Ushas
aryapatni 2 Ushas Apas
virapatni 2 Sarasvati och egennamn
¢urapatni 2 obest
devapatni 2 gudarnas hustrur
vrshapatni 1 vattnen, förmälda med tjuren
dasapatni 4 demoners fruar
grhapatni 1 husfru
supatni 3 obest Ushas 1
vasupatni 1 mjölk
dansupatni 2
nrpatni gudinnorna
vi¢patni 2
gnapatni 1 gudinnor
28
Povtnia Au[w"
Many of the features designated as aspects of the Indo-European Dawn-goddess
(*h2e„sþ´s) on the basis of Greek epic diction are not principally recognized as
properties of the goddess who inherited her name in Greek mythology, ∆Hwv"
(Aeolic Au[w"), but rather of the goddess considered to have developed as her
hypostasis, namely Aphrodite. Extensive evidence for this transferal, both on the level
of theme and diction, is found in an article by Gregory Nagy from 1973 (a revised
version occurred in 1990) and in Deborah D. Boedeker’s book Aphrodite’s Entry into
Greek Epic from 1974. For the details of the argument, I refer the reader to these
studies. I will only rehearse the observations made by Nagy and Boedeker on some
crucial points.
By means of two cognate epithets, both Aphrodite and the Vedic Dawn-goddess
U˜as are characterized as “daughter of the Sky-god (IE *dÁe„s)”, i.e. as Diov"
qugavthr and divá(s) duhitár (or vice versa) (IE *di„ós dhugh2tér).70 Although Eos is
never explicitly referred to as daughter of Zeus, but rather as daughter of Theia and
Hyperion. a faint echo of this epithet once being combined with the name of Eos
(*qugavthr Diov" ∆Hwv") is still discerned in the metrical shape of the fixed epithet
frequently preceding her name in epic diction, rJododavktulo" (in both cases the shape
is ≠ ≠ – ≠ ≠≠) (Nagy 1990: 247f). Another feature that is no longer connected with
Eos in the poetic tradition, but shared by Aphrodite and U˜as, is the concept of
smiling. At her birth, Aphrodite is allotted with the smiles (meidhvmata) of maidens
(Theogony 205), and she is frequently associated with the epithet filommeidhv"
“smile-loving” in her role as a goddess of sexual love (Boedeker: 24, 32ff). In the
case of U˜as, furthermore, her smile as well as its erotic implications are attested in
the Vedic hymns as typical features of the goddess. Consider, for instance, the
following passage used to exemplify this by Boedeker (1974: 25): “Like a maiden
proud of her body, you go, goddess, to the desirous god. Smiling you unveil for him
you breast, like a young wife, when you shine in the East” (RV 1,123,10). The word
at issue (the feminine participle –smáyamýný of the middle present stem smáy-a-) is
derived from the same verbal root (IE •*smeÁ) as Greek meidiavw/meidavw71
(Boedeker 1974: 25). In the cases of Diov" qugavthr and filommeidhv" we are not
dealing with epithets uniquely associated with Aphrodite. However, their mutual
application to a goddess that developed as an hypostasis of Eos nevertheless creates a
nexus between the Greek and Vedic data regarding the description of the Dawngoddess by means of a shared poetic tradition. From collocations of such markers in
one and the same text we are thus able to derive the poetic contours of this figure. Cf.
RV 1,92,5d: cítraÚ divó duhitý´ bhýnúm a¢ret [---] 6bc: u˜ý´ uchánt^ vayúný k√n‰oti|
¢riyé chándo ná smayate vibhýt^´ < *di„ós dhugh2tér [---] *h2e„sþ´s [---] *sméÁeto.
The question is now to what extent the characterization of Eos in the Greek poetic
tradition may still contribute to the picture of the Indo-European Dawn-goddess, i.e.
70
A similar epithet (applied to the Sun-goddess) occurs in
Lithuanian, but it is uncertain if this should be considered a real
reflex of the Indo-European epithet or an accidental juncture (see
discussion in Schmitt 1974: 173).
71
The loss of s before consonants in Greek verbs is a common
phenomenon, and also explains the doubled m of the compound
filommeidhv". A similar case is the loss of s in nivfo" (IE *sneÁg∑h-) as
reflected in the doubled n of the Homeric compound ajgannivfo" “snowcapt” (Boedeker 1974: 24).
29
to what extent there are (pre-Greek or Indo-European) features of Eos that were not
transferred to her hypostasis. The issue has, not very surprisingly, been explored by
others, notably by Rüdiger Schmitt (Schmitt 1967). As I intend to show below,
however, the case cannot yet be regarded as closed. Schmitt (1967:173f.) singles out
one example of cognate words that could function as epithets of the Dawn-goddess in
both Greek and Vedic texts. They are independently derived from the root •*di„- (as
in *dÁé„-) and consequently belong to the sphere of the luminous, diurnal sky. Eos is
associated with the root in Homeric expressions such as ∆Hova di`an (Iliad 9,240 and
passim) and hjw;" o{te di`a fanhvhi (Iliad 24,417), di`a being a reflex of dí„Áéh2-s
“divine, heavenly”, and U˜as is occasionally referred to as dev^´- (< deÁ„íh2- “id.”
“goddess”) in the Rigveda (e.g. the vocative ú˜o devi in the beginning of a verse
(RV 1,123,3b;1,124,12d;3,61,2a;6,64,2d;7,77,5b)). Schmitt thus concluded that “mit
der Wendung homer. ∆Hova di`an können wir denn einige Veda-stellen vergleichen,
die in analoger Weise U˜as- als dev^´-, also mit dem (sprachlich jungen)
gebräuchlichen Femininum zu devá-, bezeichnen.”
Schmitt also observed in passing that, among the frequent attestations of divá(s)
duhitár /duhitár divá(s) in the Rigveda, the epithet is once combined with the epithet
pátn^ “mistress” (7,75,4d). He regarded this as a notable coincidence due to the
combination of the cognate povtna (shorter form of povtnia) and quvgathr Diov" at
Odyssey 20,62, but refrained from discussing the matter further (1967: 170).
Significant as it is on a formal level, the line does not involve Eos or any hypostasis of
Eos, but the goddess Artemis: ∆Artevmidi, povtna qeav, quvgathr Diov", ai[qe moi
h[dh. Schmitt could perhaps have made a stronger case, had he only referred to the
fact that Eos is also associated with the epithet povtnia. Consider the following lines
in the Homeric Hymn to Aphrodite:
223: nhpivh, oujd∆ ejnovphse meta; fresi; povtnia ∆Hw;"
230: tou` d∆ h\ toi, eujnh`" me;n ajpivceto povtnia ∆Hw;"
This was probably not an occasional creation of epic diction, because we also find it
in Sappho:
Fr. 147 (from the Et. Mag. 174.43ss.): (ou{tw" levgetai par∆ Aijoleu`si, Sapfwv:)
potniva Au[w"
Cf. also fr. 6, as emended by D. A. Campbell: 10 povtnia ªd∆ Au[w" / ºcrusop≥ªacu"
It is consequently worth considering the possibility that this was another epithet of the
Indo-European Dawn-goddess, which to my knowledge has not been discussed so far.
Since in Greek epic diction (as well as in classical poetry) povtnia is just an honorific
title applied to any goddess72, such an assumption must be based on external evidence
for the marked usage of this inherited term (*pótnih273). We have already noticed that
72
Potnia (po-ti-ni-ja) occurs, presumably as the name of a
particular goddess, in the tablets from Pylos and Knossos (cf.
Chadwick: 1957).
73
The somewhat confusing n in reflexes of the feminine noun (besides
povtnia and patn^, cf. Avestan d™ma…nþ.paƒn^ and Lithuanian
vieπ.patni) as opposed to the masculine *póti- (Vedic páti-, Greek
povsi", Latin potis, etc.) could be explained as the result of
interference in the Protolanguage (rÿ´gñ-n-i-h2− → pót-nih2 (instead
30
pátn^ is associated with U˜as in the Rigveda (7,75,4d), just as all the other
comparanda considered so far. But how is it used and what does it mean in the
different contexts?
In most of the passages the word seems to be used (without any binding
association with with U˜as) in the sense “spouse” (v√ñ˜n‰ah‰ pátn^r “spouses of
the bull (= Indra)” (5,42,12b) or devý´ným pátn^r “spouses of the gods” (5,46,7a)). As
far as I can see, only U˜as (or the U˜asas (pl.), i.e. the successive Dawns) and the
Ãpas (the Waters) are referred to as pátn^ or pátn^s (pl.) (followed by a genitive) in
the sense that they themselves possess the property signaled by the genitive:
3,61,4b: u˜ý [...] svásarasya pát n^ “Dawn, mistress of the pasture”
7,75,4d: divó duhitý ´bhúvanasya pátn^ “Heaven’s daughter, mistress of the world”
4,5,13cd: [...] dev^´r am√ñtasya pátn^h‰‰ [...] u˜ý´sah‰ “the divine mistresses of
immortality, the Dawns”
10,30,10c: bhúvanasya patn^r “mistresses (= the Waters) of the world”
10,30,12c: svapatásya patn^h‰ “mistresses (= the Waters) of beautiful offspring”
When the word occurs in compounds, the general tendency is once more to use it in
the sense “spouse”, as in índrapatn^ (10,86,9d,10d) or devápatn^s (1,61,8a;5,46,8a), a
significant exception being výjápatn^ (vý´ja- meaning “reward”) (of U˜as (7,76,6c).
The only translation that would fit the context of the latter compound is “mistress of
rewards” (cf. the god Agni as “lord of rewards” (vý´japatis) (4,15,3a)).
We have gathered four epithets, none of which is uniquely associated with the
Dawn-goddess, but which have a tendency to interlock with regard to this particular
goddess in a manner that seems unique in both the Greek and Vedic traditions. We are
thus in a position to derive this set of epithets from a particular area of the poetic
tradition shared by the Greeks and the people of Vedic India, namely the formulaic
characterization of the Dawn-goddess in religious poetry. She was regarded as
daughter of the Sky-god (), therefore also of heavenly nature (). She was smiling as a
sign of sexual love (), and she was conceived as mistress () of certain more or less
specified properties.
Addendum
A more remote parallel between the Greek and Vedic characterizations of the goddess
may deserve some attention in this connection. Although it has no etymological
support, the extent to which etymological parallels are attested elsewhere increases
the plausibility that we are dealing with superpositions of an older formula or
idiomatic expression that was lost in one or in both of the languages. Following the
argumentation of Theodor Knecht, Schmitt (1967: 175) rejects the idea that the
Homeric expression faesivmbroto" ∆Hwv" (cf. also Bacchylides Epinicians 13,128129: faesivmªbroto" / ∆Aoi`) has the same background as the Indo-Iranian parallels
u˜ásaÚ v^bhat^m (RV 3,61,5a)/uπ º™m viuuait^m (Yt. 5,62) “radiant Dawn”.
Although the Greek expression contains the same root (•*bheh2- “to shine”) as the
Indo-Iranian ones, its proper sense in this connection does not seem to be (as
proposed by Durante) “che illumina i mortali”, but rather “die Menchen seehend”
(Knecht 1946: 9). If this interpretation is correct, it is worth mentioning that a similar
of **póti-ih2-))Cf. Mayrhofer 1996 s.v. patn^ (referring to G.
Dunkel).
31
thing is said of U˜as in a verse preceding one of the verse quoted above (7,75,4cd):
abhipá¢yant^ vayúný jánýnýÚ \ divó duhitý ´bhúvanasya pátn^ “observing the ways
(?) of men (i.e. ‘the born ones’), Heaven’s daughter, the mistress of the world”.
References
Boedeker, Deborah Dickmann 1974. Aphrodite’s Entry into Greek Epic. Leiden.
Nagy, Gregory 1990. “Phaeton, Sappho, and the White Rock of Leukas”. Originally
published in Harvard Studies in Classical Philology 77:137-177. Rewritten as chapter
9 in Greek Mythology and Poetic 223-262. Ithaca and London.
Mayrhofer, Manfred 1996. Etymologisches Wörterbuch des Altindoarischen. Vol. 2.
Heidelberg.
Knecht, Theodor 1946. Geschichte der griechischen Komposita vom Typ
teryivmbroto". Biel.
Schmitt, Rüdiger 1967. Dichtung und Dichersprachein indogermanischer Zeit.
Wiesbaden.
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