Aristotle’s Lost Homeric Problems: Textual Studies [Hardcover ed.] 019883456X, 9780198834564

Citation preview

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 8/12/2018, SPi

A R I S T O T L E ’S LO S T H O M E R I C PR O B L E M S

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 8/12/2018, SPi

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 8/12/2018, SPi

Aristotle’s Lost Homeric Problems Textual Studies

ROBERT MAYHEW

1

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 8/12/2018, SPi

3

Great Clarendon Street, Oxford, OX2 6DP, United Kingdom Oxford University Press is a department of the University of Oxford. It furthers the University’s objective of excellence in research, scholarship, and education by publishing worldwide. Oxford is a registered trade mark of Oxford University Press in the UK and in certain other countries © Robert Mayhew 2019 The moral rights of the author have been asserted First Edition published in 2019 Impression: 1 All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, without the prior permission in writing of Oxford University Press, or as expressly permitted by law, by licence or under terms agreed with the appropriate reprographics rights organization. Enquiries concerning reproduction outside the scope of the above should be sent to the Rights Department, Oxford University Press, at the address above You must not circulate this work in any other form and you must impose this same condition on any acquirer Published in the United States of America by Oxford University Press 198 Madison Avenue, New York, NY 10016, United States of America British Library Cataloguing in Publication Data Data available Library of Congress Control Number: 2018956451 ISBN 978–0–19–883456–4 Printed and bound by CPI Group (UK) Ltd, Croydon, CR0 4YY Links to third party websites are provided by Oxford in good faith and for information only. Oxford disclaims any responsibility for the materials contained in any third party website referenced in this work.

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 8/12/2018, SPi

To Tore Boeckmann

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 8/12/2018, SPi

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 8/12/2018, SPi

Preface Aristotle wrote a work, likely entitled Ἀπορήματα or Προβλήματα Ὁμηρικά (which I refer to as Homeric Problems),1 in at least six books, presenting and solving problems related to the epics of Homer.2 The two most recent collections of the fragments3 of Aristotle each include nearly forty texts connected to this work (frs. 142–79 Rose/ 366–404 Gigon).4 The vast majority of them are drawn from the numerous scholia in the manuscripts of the Homeric epics5—and many of these, in turn, originally come from the Homeric Questions of Porphyry (third century AD).6 Along with Poetics 25 (which I discuss in chapter 1), these texts are clearly our best source for information about the Homeric Problems. This material, however, would likely fill, or represents the content of, less than one book; but Aristotle’s Homeric Problems consisted of multiple books.7 Therefore, I think it worthwhile to explore other ways of determining the content of this lost work, beyond Poetics 25 and the scholia and other texts gathered together in the standard collections of fragments.8 With rare exceptions, the Homeric Problems has received little attention. Among the exceptions, I would mention three dissertations

1 Both ἀπορήματα and προβλήματα can be rendered ‘problems’ (more on this later). In some earlier publications I referred to this work as Homeric Puzzles, but that did not catch on. And it became clear to me from feedback I have received over the past couple of years that it would not. More on the title of this work in chapter 2. 2 ‘Homer’ is shorthand for ‘the poet(s) who wrote the Iliad and the Odyssey.’ 3 It once was a standard practice to distinguish fragmenta and testimonia. But in most cases (and certainly in dealing with the evidence for Aristotle’s lost work on Homer) this is rarely if ever possible. I was therefore tempted to use the somewhat clunky ‘source-texts’ instead; but in the end, I have opted to use ‘fragments’ broadly understood to include both what used to be called fragmenta and testimonia. 4 Rose (1886) and Gigon (1987). (NB: The former is the third of the collections of Aristotle’s fragments edited by Rose, and so it is often referred to or cited as ‘Rose3’). 5 See the Note on Sources below for the editions of the scholia. 6 See the Note on Sources below. Porphyry was aware of the work of a number of Homeric scholars, going at least as far back as the fifth century BC. 7 Moreover, one must use the scholia with caution. See Mayhew (2017b). 8 I do not mean to imply that these standard collections of fragments are, aside from being incomplete, otherwise reliable. See chapter 3.

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 8/12/2018, SPi

viii

Preface

(Carroll 1893, Ammendola 1907,9 and especially Hintenlang 1961), a small (but growing) number of journal articles,10 and most recently, Breitenberger’s German translation of the fragments, with commentary (2006), and one chapter in Bouchard’s Du Lycée au Musée: théorie poétique et critique littéraire à l’époque hellénistique (2016, ch. 3). These works, however, though valuable, do not go that far beyond Poetics 25 and the standard fragments gathered from the scholia and other sources. I hope that the present set of studies expands our knowledge of the lost Homeric Problems, especially by going into terrain for the most part not covered by these earlier works. The present set of studies on Aristotle’s Homeric Problems is divided into three parts, the first of which deals with preliminary issues. In chapter 1 (‘Pre-Aristotelian Homeric Scholarship and Aristotle’s Poetics 25’), I set the context for what comes later, first by discussing approaches to the study of Homer, from the presocratics to Plato (with allegorical interpretation receiving special attention), and second by examining Poetics 25, which is the longest extant discussion by Aristotle of how to approach the interpretation of Homer, and in particular how to solve Homeric problems. In chapter 2 (‘The Titles (and Subtitles) of Aristotle’s Lost Work on Homer’), I present the ancient evidence for a work by Aristotle on Homeric problems, and the various titles attributed to it (as well as the number of books it was said to contain, and the possibility of subtitles of its separate books). In chapter 3 (‘A Reappraisal of Heitz’), as part of my appeal to scholars not to limit themselves to the fragments in Rose and Gigon when studying the Homeric Problems, I argue that Heitz (1869) is a too often overlooked collection of Aristotle’s fragments—and in the process examine two neglected texts. In the next two parts of the book, I pursue two different ways of expanding our knowledge of the Homeric Problems. One way is to examine in context quotations from (or allusions to) Homer in Aristotle’s extant works. This I do in Part II. I proceed as follows: inquire whether such passages were (likely) the subject of debate or discussion in antiquity; consider whether such debate over or discussion about a particular passage fits Aristotle’s aims and methods in his I have not been able to find a copy of this University of Naples dissertation. See Sodano (1964), (1965), (1966), (1974), Huxley (1979), Bouchard (2010) and (2018), Fortenbaugh (2015). To these I would add Mayhew (2016), (2017a), (2017b), and (2017c). 9

10

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 8/12/2018, SPi

Preface

ix

lost Homeric Problems (i.e. is there a problem at the heart of the debate or discussion, of the sort with which Aristotle was concerned in Poetics 25 and, from what we know from other texts, in the Homeric Problems); and finally, does such inquiry and consideration of the Homeric passage in its Aristotelian context give us a hint at— allow us to speculate about—how he might have solved the problem (or alternatively, whether he was critical of Homer). So far as I know, no one has suggested this source. Now I admit that certainty is rarely possible to establish here; rather, one can speak only of attaining degrees of possibility or probability. But I believe I have made some progress. And at the very least, these studies give us a better idea of how Aristotle would have approached some of the debates engaged in by Homeric scholars in antiquity.11 In this part of the book, I consider the evidence from the History of Animals (chapter 4), the Rhetoric (chapter 5), and Poetics 21 (chapter 6). Part III consists of four studies on select (and in most cases neglected) fragments. I begin (chapter 7, ‘Aristotle on the Meaning of τάλαντον in Iliad 23’) with a set of fragments that have not been neglected (in the sense I have been using the term), i.e. they are included in the standard collections of Aristotle’s fragments, and have received some scholarly attention. Nevertheless, I have found that the presentation of this material—in editions of the scholia and in the collections of the fragments of Aristotle—is not always clear or complete, and the discussion of it is not entirely satisfactory. So I take a fresh look at the available evidence, going back to the relevant scholia in the manuscripts themselves. In chapter 8 (‘Aristotle and Aristarchus on the Meaning of κέρας in the Iliad’), I examine numerous texts in which Aristotle and/or Aristarchus are said to offer an interpretation on the specific meaning in context of κέρας (‘horn’). I treat the two authors together, because one reason that these Aristotle fragments have been neglected is that earlier scholars have argued that references to Aristotle are in fact, in most cases, mistakes for Aristarchus. I reject this conclusion in almost every instance. The Aristotle fragments, properly identified, provide further evidence for Aristotle’s views on metaphor in Homer. In chapter 9 (‘Aristotle on the Theomachy in Iliad 21’), I examine two relatively neglected texts: one from an Oxyrhynchus papyrus containing a commentary on 11 I use the expression ‘Homeric scholar’ quite loosely as shorthand for anyone in antiquity who we know expressed opinions about the Homeric epics.

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 8/12/2018, SPi

x

Preface

Iliad 21, the other from a lengthy scholium in the thirteenth-century Byzantine manuscript Genavensis gr. 44. These are important fragments in their own right; but in addition, given that the Theomachy of Iliad 21 was an object of allegorical interpretation from the early history of Homeric scholarship, an examination of them offers (at least by implication) insights into whether Aristotle ever engaged in such interpretation. This issue is continued and dealt with more explicitly in the final chapter (‘Aristotle’s Naturalistic Interpretation of Odyssey 12’). The textual evidence for Aristotle’s (possible or probable) discussions of three episodes in Odyssey 12 are discussed, namely, concerning the Sirens, the ambrosia-bearing doves, and the Cattle of the Sun. All three have historically been treated allegorically. Further, as some contemporary scholars take the fragments on these doves and cattle to be evidence for Aristotle interpreting Homer allegorically, this is an appropriate place to return to the issue of allegorical interpretation in Aristotle—first raised in chapter 1—and as such it serves as an appropriate conclusion to the volume. I believe these studies confirm and make clearer the close connection between the Homeric Problems and Poetics 25; provide further examples and a broader range of the kinds of problems Aristotle attempted to solve; and cast doubt on the idea that Aristotle, in solving Homeric problems, sometimes engaged in allegorical interpretation. Most of all, I hope this volume makes clear the need for further work on the lost Homeric Problems, and prompts other scholars to undertake that work.

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 8/12/2018, SPi

Acknowledgments I began work on this project during a 2013–14 sabbatical leave: I wish to thank Seton Hall University for granting me that leave, and the Ayn Rand Institute for a research grant that made possible a yearlong sabbatical. I also wish to thank Seton Hall for granting me course release during two semesters (Spring 2015 and Spring 2018), as well as a 2016 University Research Council Summer Stipend, all of which contributed to the completion of this project. Many thanks as well to Gregory Nagy, and the personnel at Harvard University’s Center for Hellenic Studies (Washington DC), which, during two visits (April 6–12, 2015 and March 6–10, 2017), provided the perfect atmosphere to work on (inter alia) the Homeric Problems. It has once again been a pleasure to work with the personnel at Oxford University Press. Special thanks to Charlotte Loveridge for her encouragement and support, to Georgina Leighton for her work on this project in its early stages and to Suryajeet Mullick for seeing it through to completion, and to Kim Richardson for his superb copyediting. I wish to thank the anonymous referees for the press, for their encouraging words and especially for their critical comments, which prompted me to make many fruitful revisions. Many thanks as well to everyone who commented on individual chapters (or parts thereof ) and/or answered various questions connected to my work on this project: Davide Baldi, Elsa Bouchard, Tiziano Dorandi, Dimitri Gutas, Richard Janko, Monte Johnson, Michiel Meeusen, Stephen Menn, Gregory Nagy, Lara Pagani, Ioanna Papadopoulou, Jason Rheins, and David Sider. I would like to single out for special thanks Filippomaria Pontani, who, upon receiving the first of many emails, out of the blue, from an unknown scholar requesting information, responded (that first time, and many times after) with patience and generosity (and more often than not, with highly useful attachments). Of course, none of these scholars should be held responsible for any remaining errors. For the past thirty years (and counting), my good friend Tore Boeckmann and I have discussed esthetics in general, and Aristotle’s Poetics in particular (as well as its unappreciated influence on Romantic literature). I dedicate this volume to him.

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 8/12/2018, SPi

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 8/12/2018, SPi

Contents List of Figures List of Abbreviations A Note on Sources Copyright Acknowledgments

xvii xix xxi xxv

PART I. PRELIMINA RY S TUDIES 1. Pre-Aristotelian Homeric Scholarship and Aristotle’s Poetics 25 1.1. Homeric Scholarship before Aristotle 1.2. Poetics 25

3 3 9

2. The Titles (and Subtitles) of Aristotle’s Lost Work on Homer 2.1. Evidence for the Titles of Aristotle’s Lost Work on Homer 2.2. Possible Subtitles

25 30

3. A Reappraisal of Heitz 3.1. The ἀχερωΐς (Heitz fr. 188) 3.2. Odysseus’ Scar (Heitz fr. 208)

35 35 40

25

P A RT I I . S T U D I E S B A S E D O N AR I S T OT L E ’S EX TA NT WORK S 4. The Evidence from the History of Animals 4.1. Homeric References in the History of Animals 4.1.1. 4.1.2. 4.1.3. 4.1.4. 4.1.5. 4.1.6. 4.1.7. 4.1.8.

HA 3.3.513b24–8 and Il. 13.545–7 HA 3.12.519a18–20 and Il. 20.73–4 HA 6.20.574b29–575a1 and Od. 17.326–7 HA 6.21.575b4–7 and Il. 2.402–3 and 7.313–15, Od. 19.418–20 and 10.19–20 HA 6.28.578a32–b5 and Il. 9.538–9, Od. 9.190–1 HA 7(8).28.606a18–21 and Od. 4.85 HA 8(9).12.615b5–10 and Il. 14.289–91 HA 8(9).32.618b18–30 and Il. 24.315–16

49 50 50 53 55 58 59 62 64 66

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 8/12/2018, SPi

xiv

Contents 4.1.9. HA 8(9).44.629b21–4 and Il. 11.552–4 and 17.661–3

4.2. The Homeric Problems and the History of Animals 5. The Evidence from the Rhetoric 5.1. Emotions 5.1.1. 5.1.2. 5.1.3. 5.1.4.

Lamentation Anger 1 Anger 2 Indignation

5.2. Literary Style 5.2.1. Epithets 5.2.2. Asyndeton and Repetition 5.2.3. Metaphors

6. The Evidence from Poetics 21 6.1. Standard Words Contrasted with ‘Foreign’ Words (1457b3–6) 6.2. Metaphors (1457b6–33) and Ornaments (1457b33?) 6.3. Made Up Words (1457b33–5) 6.4. Lengthened and Shortened Words (1457b35–1458a5) 6.5. Altered Words (1458a5–7) 6.6. The Evidence from Strabo

69

70 75 75 76 80 83 86

89 89 91 95

105 106 110 110 111 113 115

PART III. S TUDIES ON SELECT (AND USUALLY NE GLEC TED) FR AGM EN TS 7. Aristotle on the Meaning of τάλαντον in Iliad 23 7.1. The Scholia in F (fol. 197r), B* (fol. 23r), and B* (fol. 175r) 7.2. The Scholia in T (fol. 255r) and B (fol. 308v) 7.3. The Scholium in B* (fol. 74v) 7.4. Conclusions Appendix: Overview of the τάλαντον Texts in Collections of the Fragments of Aristotle

125 130 134 136

8. Aristotle and Aristarchus on the Meaning of κέρας in the Iliad 8.1. Five Texts on Iliad 11.385 8.2. Plutarch, Whether Land or Sea Animals Are Cleverer 24 and Iliad 24.80–2

143 143

123

140

148

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 8/12/2018, SPi

Contents

xv

9. Aristotle on the Theomachy in Iliad 21 9.1. Aristotle on Iliad 21.284–6 in POxy 221 9.2. Aristotle, Chamaeleon, and Anonymous in the Margins of Genavensis gr. 44

153 153

10. Aristotle’s Naturalistic Interpretation of Odyssey 12 10.1. The Sirens 10.2. The Ambrosia-Bearing Doves 10.3. The Cattle of the Sun

169 170 177 188

10.3.1. The Number of the Cattle 10.3.2. The Sun’s Omniscience

References Index Locorum Index Nominum General Index

157

188 191

195 207 217 223

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 8/12/2018, SPi

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 8/12/2018, SPi

List of Figures 8.1. Schol. Genavensis gr. 44 (Bibliothèque de Genève, Ms. gr. 44) (p. 463). Reproduced with the kind permission of Bibliothèque de Genève, Département des manuscrits.

144

8.2. Schol. Genavensis gr. 44 (Bibliothèque de Genève, Ms. gr. 44) (p. 718). Reproduced with the kind permission of Bibliothèque de Genève, Département des manuscrits.

146

9.1. POxy 221 (col. xiv 27–32). Reproduced with the kind permission of the British Library. © The British Library Board.

154

9.2. POxy 221 (col. xiv 32–4). Reproduced with the kind permission of the British Library. © The British Library Board.

156

9.3. Schol. Genavensis gr. 44 (Bibliothèque de Genève, Ms. gr. 44) (p. 720). Reproduced with the kind permission of Bibliothèque de Genève, Département des manuscrits.

159

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 8/12/2018, SPi

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 8/12/2018, SPi

List of Abbreviations Aristotle (Arist.) and the Corpus Aristotelicum Ath. Pol. = Athenaion Politeia = Athenian Constitution EE = Ethica Eudemia = Eudemian Ethics EN = Ethica Nicomachea = Nicomachean Ethics GA = De generatione animalium = On the Generation of Animals HA = Historia animalium = History of Animals IA = De incessu animalium = On the Progression of Animals MA = De motu animalium = On the Movement of Animals Metaph. = Metaphysica = Metaphysics Mete. = Meteorologica = Meteorology Mir. = De mirabilibus auscultationibus = On Marvelous Things Heard PA = De partibus animalium = On the Parts of Animals Phys. = Physica = Physics Poet. = Poetica = Poetics Pol. = Politica = Politics Rhet. = Rhetorica = Rhetoric Soph. El. = Sophistici Elenchi = Sophistical Refutations Top. = Topica = Topics For other ancient authors and works, I have used the abbreviations in LSJ and/or OCD3 (though see p. xxii note 18 for Porphyry’s Homeric Questions).1 Abbreviations of Modern Works BDAG CAG DK FGrHist

F. Montanari et al., The Brill Dictionary of Ancient Greek. Leiden, 2015 Commentaria in Aristotelem Graeca. Berlin H. Diels and W. Kranz, eds., Die Fragmente der Vorsokratiker, 6th ed. Berlin, 1952 F. Jacoby, Die Fragmente der griechischen Historiker. Berlin, 1923–99

1 With few exceptions, my practice is to use English titles of Greek works. In the case of the essays in Plutarch’s Moralia, I use the English titles listed in Lamberton (2001, 199–210) but standard abbreviations based on the Latin titles.

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 8/12/2018, SPi

xx FHS&G

LSJ OCD3 TLG

List of Abbreviations W. W. Fortenbaugh, P. M. Huby, R. W. Sharples, and D. Gutas, eds., Theophrastus of Eresus: Sources for his Life, Writings, Thought and Influence, 2 vols. Leiden, 1992 H. G. Liddell, R. Scott, and H. S. Jones, eds., Greek–English Lexicon, rev. 9th ed. Oxford, 1996 S. Hornblower and A. Spawforth eds., The Oxford Classical Dictionary, 3rd ed. Oxford, 2003 Thesaurus Linguae Graecae (www.tlg.uci.edu)

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 8/12/2018, SPi

A Note on Sources For the text of Aristotle’s Poetics, I use Tarán and Gutas (2012).1 For the Homeric epics, I use West’s edition of the Iliad (1998 and 2000) and van Thiel’s edition of the Odyssey (1991). The standard collections of the fragments of Aristotle are Rose (1886) and Gigon (1987). The latter has not succeeded in superseding the former, however, in part because of its problematic presentation of the fragments (especially its lack of an apparatus criticus), and in part because the former is the edition found in the TLG.2 In presenting the fragments of Aristotle’s Homeric Problems included in either or both of these collections, I refer to both the original source and the fragment numbers according to these editions. I never rely on the texts in Rose (1886) and Gigon (1987), however, where better editions are available.3 (See, for example, the following paragraph, on the editions of the Homeric scholia.) The situation in the case of the Homeric scholia is complicated. For the scholia on the Iliad, I have made use of van Thiel’s second edition of the D scholia (2014a), and have used Erbse’s edition (1969–88) for the Viermännerscholia/A scholia and the exegetic/bT scholia (with the exclusion of scholia taken from Porphyry, on which more below). (I also occasionally refer to Nicole’s edition of the scholia in Genavensis gr. 44 (1891).) For the scholia on Odyssey 1–6, I have made use of the superb editions of Pontani (2007), (2010), and (2015); for Odyssey 7–24, I have used Ernst (2006) for the D scholia and Dindorf (1855) for the rest.4

1

But see Janko (2013). Both collections, however, are thought to supersede Heitz (1869). For my views on this, at least with respect to the Homeric Problems, see chapter 3. 3 The various collections of Aristotle fragments often list more than one text under a given number, and scholars have regularly come to distinguish them with a period or comma following the fragment number. E.g. ‘164.1 Rose’ is the first text included by Rose under no. 164. 4 On the Homeric scholia, see Erbse (1969, xi–lxvi), Kirk (1985, 38–43), Janko (1992, 20–8), Nagy (1996), Dickey (2007, 18–23), Pontani (2005b) and (2016), Nünlist (2011), and Montanari et al. (2017). In citing scholia, I refer either to the (primary) manuscript from which it comes (e.g. schol. Ge) or to the type of scholia (e.g. schol. D). Further 2

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 8/12/2018, SPi

xxii

A Note on Sources

The first book of Porphyry’s Homeric Questions on the Iliad is extant in one manuscript (Vaticanus gr. 305); the standard edition is Sodano (1970).5 For the rest, extracts from Porphyry’s Homeric Questions (on the Iliad and on the Odyssey) have survived among the Homeric scholia.6 It is not always clear, however, what material is Porphyrian, and the opinions of editors have differed. MacPhail’s edition of Porphyry’s Homeric Questions on the Iliad (2011) has (in some respects) replaced Schrader’s much fuller edition (1880).7 In some cases, however, a scholium was excluded by Erbse on the grounds that it came from Porphyry, but then also excluded from MacPhail’s edition (on the grounds that it did not). In these cases I have had to rely on Schrader (1880). Finally, Schrader (1890) is the sole edition of the fragments of Porphyry’s Homeric Questions on the Odyssey—though a better text of the Porphyrian scholia on Odyssey 1–6 can be found in Pontani (2007), (2010), and (2015).8 Eustathius of Thessalonica (twelfth century AD) wrote massive commentaries on the Homeric epics.9 Their value in the present context “consists particularly in the assemblage of material drawn information regarding manuscript sources can be found in the various editions of the scholia. 5 This is unimportant as a source for the Homeric Problems. It includes one quotation or paraphrase from Aristotle, which comes not from his Homeric Problems but likely refers to something in the History of Animals. I discuss this in an appendix in Mayhew (2015), entitled ‘The Corpse-Eating Fish of Iliad 21.’ 6 For these two works of Porphyry, I use the abbreviations HQI and HQO and refer to the relevant manuscripts, as described by the best editions available. Much of the evidence for Porphyry’s Homeric Questions on the Iliad comes from scholia in Venetus B (Marc. gr. Z. 453 [= 821]), eleventh century. Venetus B contains two levels of scholia (eleventh century, and twelfth or thirteenth century). I follow Erbse and others in using ‘B*’ to refer to the later scholia, which is the most important type in the present context. On ms. B, and the difference between the B and B* scholia, see Erbse (1969, xvii–xviii). 7 But see Slater (2012). 8 Given the importance of Porphyry as a source, it is worth keeping in mind Ford’s word of caution, applicable beyond the reference to Theagenes in a Homeric scholium which is Ford’s immediate concern (1999, 35–6): “A good deal of caution is required in evaluating such information. This note has been traced to Porphyry, the Neoplatonist philosopher and commentator on Homer of the third century C.E. His account is thus some eight centuries after the time of Theagenes, who is placed by another source [i.e. Tatian] in the last quarter of the sixth century B.C.E. Porphyry depends on intermediary sources now unknown.” As this issue applies to Porphyry as a source for Aristotle, see Breitenberger (2006, 369–70) and Bouchard (2016, ch. 1). 9 See Wilson (1983, 196–204), Pontanti (2005b, 170–8), Cullhed (2016, 1*–33*), and Pagani (2017).

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 8/12/2018, SPi

A Note on Sources

xxiii

from the old scholia and the lost works of earlier scholars and lexicographers” (OCD3 s.v. Eustathius). I have used van der Valk (1971–87) for the Iliad, and Stallbaum (1825–6) for the Odyssey.10 I use the following shorthand in citing these works: e.g. “Eust. Od. 12.62 (2.11.14–16)”=Eustathius’ comment on Odyssey 12.62, in volume 2, page 11, lines 14–16 of Stallbaum’s edition. 10

In the one applicable case, I also consulted Cullhed’s new edition of Eustathius’ commentary on Odyssey 1–2 (2016).

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 8/12/2018, SPi

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 8/12/2018, SPi

Copyright Acknowledgments Of the ten chapters in this volume, seven are entirely new (1–3, 5–7, and 10), two have appeared elsewhere (4 and 8), and one (9) consists of two parts, one of which has appeared elsewhere. Here are the details regarding the previously published material:1 • Ch. 4: “Aristotle’s Biology and his Lost Homeric Puzzles,” Classical Quarterly 65.1 (2015). Reprinted with the kind permission of Cambridge University Press. • Ch. 8: “Two Notes on Aristotle and Aristarchus on the Meaning of κέρας in the Iliad,” Hyperboreus: Bibliotheca Classica Petropolitana 22.1 (2016). Reprinted with the kind permission of the editors of Hyperboreus. • Ch. 9 (2nd part): “Aristotle and Chamaeleon and Anonymous in the Margins of Genev. gr. 44,” Greek, Roman, and Byzantine Studies 56.1 (2016). Author retains copyright.

1

Each of these has been more or less revised and/or abridged.

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 8/12/2018, SPi

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 11/12/2018, SPi

Part I Preliminary Studies

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 11/12/2018, SPi

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 11/12/2018, SPi

1 Pre-Aristotelian Homeric Scholarship and Aristotle’s Poetics 25 1.1. HOMERIC SCHOLARSHIP BEFORE ARISTOTLE In Plato’s Republic, the character Socrates speaks of his love and reverence (φιλία . . . καὶ αἰδώς) for Homer (10.595b), and claims that people regard Homer as “the poet who educated Greece” (τὴν Ἑλλάδα πεπαίδευκεν οὗτος ὁ ποιητής) (10.606e).1 And it is still said today that although the ancient Greeks had no sacred texts with the same status as the Bible or Quran, the epics of Homer came closest to playing that role.2 Of course, Plato has Socrates speak of this love and reverence in the midst of a harsh critique of Homer. And his critique was not the first. Perhaps one indication that the epics were not quite sacred texts (or not for everyone)—however elevated their cultural stature (and despite the reference to divine inspiration at the opening of each)—is how relatively early, historically, Homer came under attack.3 The earliest recorded criticisms come from the presocratic philosophers Xenophanes (c.570–475 BC) and Heraclitus (b. c.540 BC), who

1 On Homeric scholarship before and contemporary with Aristotle, see Apfel (1938, 245–58), Pfeiffer (1968, chs. 1–3), Richardson (1992), Lamberton (1997), and Pontani (2005b, 23–43). 2 I have encountered this most recently in Adamson (2014, 6): “In the ancient Greek world they [sc. the Iliad and Odyssey] played the sort of role that the Bible did in medieval Europe, and that Shakespeare does for us—or used to when people knew their Shakespeare.” 3 See Whitmarsh (2015, ch. 2).

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 11/12/2018, SPi

4

Aristotle’s Lost Homeric Problems

criticized Homer precisely because of his role in the moral education of Greece.4 For instance, Xenophanes wrote (21B11 DK): Both Homer and Hesiod have attributed to the gods all things which among humans are disgraceful and blameworthy: stealing, committing adultery, and deceiving one another.5

And according to Diogenes Laertius (9.1 [11–13 Dorandi]=22B42 DK), Heraclitus “claimed that Homer deserved to be thrown out of the [literary] contests and flogged.”6 A B* scholium on Il. 20.67–75 (part of the Theomachy), the likely source of which is Porphyry’s Homeric Questions (see MacPhail 2011, 240–1), reports that a standard reply to such criticisms, in defense of Homer, was to interpret the epics allegorically.7 The gods and heroes are not (all or necessarily) moral paradigms, according to this manner of interpretation, but are rather allegorical representations of certain features of reality, and thus do not necessarily reflect Homer’s own theological or ethical convictions. For instance, in the Theomachy, battling gods Apollo and Poseidon represent the opposition of certain elements, namely fire and water, and Athena and Ares represent a set of opposite states of character, namely wisdom and folly. This same scholium reports that Theagenes of Rhegium is considered the first person to offer this type of defense.8 According to Tatian (Or. 31), 4 Pythagoras (sixth century BC) may have been an early critic as well. Diogenes Laertius reports (8.21 [229–34 Dorandi]) that according to the Peripatetic Hieronymus of Rhodes (third century BC), Pythagoras traveled to Hades and saw Homer hanging from a tree, surrounded by snakes, as punishment for what he said about the gods (fr. 50 White). 5

πάντα ϑεοῖσ᾽ ἀνέϑηκαν Ὅμηρός ϑ᾽ Ἡσίοδός τε, ὅσσα παρ᾽ ἀνϑρώποισιν ὀνείδεα καὶ ψόγος ἐστίν, κλέπτειν μοιχεύειν τε καὶ ἀλλήλους ἀπατεύειν. Unless indicated otherwise, translations from the Greek are my own. 6 τόν τε ῞Ομηρον ἔφασκεν, ἄξιον ἐκ τῶν ἀγώνων ἐκβάλλεσθαι καὶ ῥαπίζεσθαι. 7 The secondary literature on early allegorical interpretation of Homer is vast. See e.g. Buffière (1973), Ford (1999), Richardson (2006), Rutherford (2011), Struck (2011), and Cullhed (2016, 25*–33*), in addition to the sources cited in note 1 above. 8 οὗτος μὲν οὖν τρόπος ἀπολογίας ἀρχαῖος ὢν πάνυ καὶ ἀπὸ Θεαγένους τοῦ Ῥηγίνου, ὃς πρῶτος ἔγραψε περὶ Ὁμήρου. Theagenes did not merely offer allegorical interpretations. Schol. A Il. 1.381 reports: “Seleucus says that in Cyprian and Cretan it (i.e. ‘ἐπεὶ μάλα οἱ φίλος ἦεν’) is ‘ἐπεί ῥά νύ οἱ φίλος ἦεν’. And Theagenes likewise proposed this.” (Σέλευκός φησιν ἐν τῇ Κυπρίαι καὶ Κρητικῇ ⟨εἶναι⟩ ‘ἐπεί ῥά νύ οἱ φίλος ἦεν’. καὶ Θεαγένης οὕτως προφέρεται.) That is, Theagenes accepted the variant or conjecture ῥά νύ for the standard μάλα. The secondary literature on Theagenes is quite extensive; see e.g. Domaradzki (2011).

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 11/12/2018, SPi

Homeric Scholarship and Aristotle’s Poetics 25

5

Theagenes was born or lived during the time of Cambyses—so, in the sixth century.9 He was followed in the fifth century by (among others) Metrodorus of Lampsacus the Elder, who also offered allegorical interpretations of Homer.10 Both the critique of Homer on moral grounds, and the allegorical defense of Homer, form part of the background necessary for understanding Aristotle’s approach to Homer. An important fourth-century critic of Homer is Zoilus of Amphipolis (c.400–320), who was younger than Plato and older than Aristotle.11 He was known as Ὁμηρομάστιξ, the Scourge of Homer, having written a work in nine books entitled Against Homer’s Poetry (Κατὰ τῆς Ὁμήρου ποιήσεως). He appears to have focused on and been hypercritical of what many would regard as non-essentials. For instance, in the opening of Iliad 5, Athena bestows on Diomedes strength and daring, and “she kindled from his helmet and shield tireless fire” (δαῖέ οἱ ἐκ κόρυθός τε καὶ ἀσπίδος ἀκάματον πῦρ) (4). Whereas other scholars took this to refer to the luster of his armor or to represent the intensity of his passion, Zoilus denounced the passage as quite ridiculous (λίαν γελοίως), on the grounds that “the hero would be in danger of being burned” (ἐκινδύνευσε γὰρ ἂν καταφλεχθῆναι ὁ ἥρως).12 As described by Matthaios (2006b), Zoilus “endeavoured to point out errors and contradictions in the Homeric epics in order 9 Cambyses I ruled Persia 580–559, Cambyses II (his grandson) 530–522. Tatian is likely referring to Cambyses II. We cannot rule out the possibility that Pherecydes of Syros (sixth century BC, and likely somewhat earlier than Theagenes) also offered allegorical interpretations of Homeric epic. See the texts presented and discussed in Kirk, Raven, and Schofield (1983, 50–71), and especially schol. b Il. 2.783a (discussed therein on pp. 59–60). 10 Metrodorus took both gods and heroes to represent nature allegorically. For instance, Hesychius α 299: “Metrodorus said allegorically that Agamemnon is the ether” (Ἀγαμέμνονα τὸν αἰθέρα Μητρόδωρος εἶπεν ἀλληγορικῶς). See also Diogenes Laertius 2.3.11 and Tatian, Or. 21. The presocratic philosopher Democritus (c.460–370) as well may have taken an allegorical approach to Homer: see Eust. Od. 12.62 (2.11.14–16) (= 68B25 DK), Clement Alex. Protrep. 68 (= 68B30), and Pliny, HN 9.5.14 (= 68A76). He wrote a work entitled On Homer or Correct Diction and Foreign Words (Περὶ Ὁμήρου ἢ Ὀρθοεπείης καὶ γλωσσέων, Diogenes Laertius 9.48 [208 Dorandi]), which neither suggests nor rules out allegorical interpretation. 11 For a brief account of Zoilus, see Matthaios (2006b). For the fragments with brief commentary (FGrHist 71), see Jacoby (1926a, 109–12) and (1926b, 103–4). See also Friedländer (1895). 12 Schol. A Il. 5.7b (pp. 88–9 MacPhail) = FGrHist 71, fr. 7. The description of Zoilus as Ὁμηρομάστιξ also comes from a scholium the likely source of which is Porphyry’s work on the Iliad: see schol. B* Il. 10.276 (pp. 178–9 MacPhail) = FGrHist 71, fr. 9.

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 11/12/2018, SPi

6

Aristotle’s Lost Homeric Problems

to achieve a comic effect at the cost of the poet.” He may well have been known to Aristotle, though he is never mentioned by Aristotle in his extant works or in the fragmentary remains of his lost works.13 Plato’s Ion provides another part of the fourth-century context out of which, and in reaction to which, Aristotle’s own approach to Homer will emerge.14 First, allegorical interpretation of Homer certainly continued, as Metrodorus of Lampsacus is described at the beginning of the Ion (530c–d)—and as is clear in a passage from the Republic (quoted below). Second, the eponymous character Ion, a professional rhapsode, likely represents (accurately or as a caricature) a certain type of Homeric scholar of the fourth century and earlier. Socrates says that Homer is the best and most divine poet, and Ion agrees (530b–c). Ion states that he knows the Homeric epics intimately, is able to sing them well, and to interpret their meaning accurately for his audience. In fact, he claims to be the best interpreter (ἑρμηνέα) of Homer. There is no indication of how he interprets Homer, but it is likely not allegorically. For he says he is better than Metrodorus; and, at least before encountering Socrates, he seemed to regard Homer as a direct (not an allegorical) source of wisdom and knowledge on every subject dealt with in the epics, e.g. chariot racing, medicine, and military strategy. (See 536e–537e, 540e–541b.) But of course it is Plato’s critique of Homer—especially in the Republic—that constitutes the most immediate context necessary for understanding Aristotle’s approach to Homer.15 Plato rejected attempts to defend Homer, allegorically or otherwise: Stories about Hera being chained by her son, or about Hephaestus being hurled from heaven by his father when he tried to save his mother from a beating, or about the battle of the gods in Homer, should not be admitted into our city, either presented with hidden meanings or without hidden meanings.16 For the young cannot distinguish what is 13 Although Aristotle never mentions Zoilus, he does seem at times to refer to this sort of critic (see e.g. Poet. 25.1461b1–3; cf. Metaph. N.6.1093a26–8). 14 For a brief summary of the debate over the dramatic date, and date of composition, of Plato’s Ion, see Rijksbaron (2007, 1–3). Plato’s dates are roughly 428/7 or 424/3 to 348/7. 15 Specifically, Ion and Republic 2–3 and 10, to which one could also add (perhaps as revisions of his critique) Phaedrus and Laws 1–2. (On this last, see especially Sauvé Meyer 2015.) 16 ὑπόνοια refers to a hidden meaning or a work that is presented as having such. It is often even translated ‘allegory’ and was sometimes used (as it is here) to refer to allegorical works (or to the allegorical interpretation of certain works, including the

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 11/12/2018, SPi

Homeric Scholarship and Aristotle’s Poetics 25

7

hidden meaning from what is not. And the beliefs they absorb at that age are difficult to erase and tend to become unalterable.17 (2.378d–e, Reeve trans. revised)

Rather, Plato had an extremely negative view of mimetic or representational art generally—and especially literature, and including Homer—and he did so primarily for four (connected) reasons: 1. Poetry (including epic) is the product of inspiration and mania, not reason; it does not involve knowledge; it is not a rational skill. (See the Ion.) 2. Since poetry is mimetic or representational, it is twice removed from reality, i.e. from the Forms.18 It is thus worse or less significant or less a bearer of truth than even our perceptual grasp of physical concretes, and so it is far removed from universal or philosophical truth. (See Rep. 10.595a–608b.) 3. Poetry is dangerous because it stokes the emotions, which we should rather be suppressing. (See Rep. 2.376e–3.398b.) 4. It is not surprising, given points 1–3, that poetry as it exists—as it portrays gods and heroes—is not conducive to the proper moral development of the young. (Ibid.)

epics of Homer). Note Richardson (2006, 71): “According to Plutarch ([De aud. poet.] Mor. 19E), ὑπόνοια was the word used in earlier Greek for what was known in his time as ἀλληγορία (allegory). Plutarch is here talking of extensive allegorical interpretations of poetry, rather than using the word ἀλληγορία as a technical term of rhetoric, as it was often used. His statement is confirmed by Plato’s Republic (378D).” See also Ford (1999, 38–42) and Rutherford (2011). 17 Ἥρας δὲ δεσμοὺς ὑπὸ ὑέος καὶ Ἡφαίστου ῥίψεις ὑπὸ πατρός, μέλλοντος τῇ μητρὶ τυπτομένῃ ἀμυνεῖν, καὶ θεομαχίας ὅσας Ὅμηρος πεποίηκεν οὐ παραδεκτέον εἰς τὴν πόλιν, οὔτ᾽ ἐν ὑπονοίαις πεποιημένας οὔτε ἄνευ ὑπονοιῶν. ὁ γὰρ νέος οὐχ οἷός τε κρίνειν ὅτι τε ὑπόνοια καὶ ὃ μή, ἀλλ᾽ ἃ ἂν τηλικοῦτος ὢν λάβῃ ἐν ταῖς δόξαις δυσέκνιπτά τε καὶ ἀμετάστατα φιλεῖ γίγνεσθαι. 18 Plato held that there are two levels or realms of reality: the quasi-real physical realm, which is grasped through the senses, producing only opinion or belief (an imperfect reflection of actual reality); and this higher realm of reality, consisting of the Forms or Ideas (e.g. the Form of Beauty, the Form of Justice), which seem to play the role of universals, are grasped by the intellect or reason, independent of sense perception, and which alone produce knowledge. The quasi-real ‘things’ which make up physical reality have the characteristics they do—to the extent that they do (e.g. a human being beautiful or just)—by sharing or participating in the corresponding Forms. For a brief account of the nature of one Form, with a hint at how it is grasped, see Symposium 210a–211b (on the Form of Beauty, or Beauty Itself ).

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 11/12/2018, SPi

8

Aristotle’s Lost Homeric Problems

So, what kind of poetry will be allowed in the best city of Plato’s Republic? Not mimetic poetry: “hymns to the gods and eulogies to good people are the only poetry that ought to be admitted into our city”19 (10.607a). If Homeric epic is allowed at all, it will have to be in a highly censored form. Nevertheless, Plato makes the following challenge at the end of the Republic: All the same, let it be said that if mimetic poetry, which aims at pleasure, has any argument to show that it should have a place in a well-governed city, we would gladly welcome it back, since we are well aware of being charmed by it ourselves. Still, it is not pious to betray what one believes to be the truth.20 (10.607c, Reeve trans. revised)

Aristotle’s one surviving poetical work, the first book of the Poetics, can be viewed in part as a response to Plato. I here summarize his response to the above four critical points:21 1. Mimetic poetry is a skill or craft (τέχνη), which can be learned, with principles established and comprehensible by reason. 2. Mimetic poetry is an imitation of reality, but a useful one from which we can learn. It is not far removed from philosophy and universals (Aristotle’s answer to Platonic Forms); in fact, it resembles philosophy, and deals more essentially with universals and not particulars. 3. Mimetic poetry does arouse the emotions of the audience. But there is nothing wrong with emotions per se. In fact, in certain circumstances the arousal of emotions can be beneficial. 4. Mimetic poetry (including Homer’s portrayal of the gods and heroes, properly understood) can be conducive to—or is not necessarily detrimental to—proper moral development. The above provides the background and historical context necessary for understanding Aristotle’s own approach to Homer. In his poetical works, he endeavored to understand tragedy, epic, and other

19 εἰδέναι δὲ ὅτι ὅσον μόνον ὕμνους θεοῖς καὶ ἐγκώμια τοῖς ἀγαθοῖς ποιήσεως παραδεκτέον εἰς πόλιν. 20 ὅμως δὲ εἰρήσθω ὅτι ἡμεῖς γε, εἴ τινα ἔχοι λόγον εἰπεῖν ἡ πρὸς ἡδονὴν ποιητικὴ καὶ ἡ μίμησις, ὡς χρὴ αὐτὴν εἶναι ἐν πόλει εὐνομουμένῃ, ἅσμενοι ἂν καταδεχοίμεθα, ὡς σύνισμέν γε ἡμῖν αὐτοῖς κηλουμένοις ὑπ’ αὐτῆς· ἀλλὰ γὰρ τὸ δοκοῦν ἀληθὲς οὐχ ὅσιον προδιδόναι. 21 In what follows, I have drawn on Janko (1987, x–xv).

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 11/12/2018, SPi

Homeric Scholarship and Aristotle’s Poetics 25

9

literary works scientifically, i.e. according to rational principles. This is clear from the opening of his Poetics: Concerning both poetics itself and its kinds, which power/potential each has, and how plots should be constructed if the creation is to be beautiful, and further out of how many and what sort of parts it is [constituted], and similarly too concerning all of the other [aspects] of the same method of inquiry, we shall speak beginning according to nature first from the first [things].22

Aristotle clearly had a great deal of respect for Homer, and sought to defend his epics against criticism—but without slavishly or unthinkingly doing so (à la Ion), and without relying on allegory.23 He discussed Homer in (at least) three works: One topic of his Poetics (the first book of which survives) is epic, the paradigm of which is Homeric epic (see especially chapters 23–6). Homer also received some attention in Aristotle’s lost On Poets (see especially frs. 63 and 65a–67b Janko).24 And, of course, there is his lost Homeric Problems, the focus of this volume.25

1.2. POETICS 25 Aristotle’s lost Homeric Problems may well stand at the head of the genre of Homeric ζητήματα literature (ζητήματα including or being synonymous with προβλήματα and ἀπορήματα),26 which involves raising questions, problems, or difficulties about certain passages in Homer, and then considering and/or offering various solutions (λύσεις). 22 Περὶ ποιητικῆς αὐτῆς τε καὶ τῶν εἰδῶν αὐτῆς, ἥν τινα δύναμιν ἕκαστον ἔχει, καὶ πῶς δεῖ συνίστασθαι τοὺς μύθους εἰ μέλλει καλῶς ἕξειν ἡ ποίησις, ἔτι δὲ ἐκ πόσων καὶ ποίων ἐστὶ μορίων, ὁμοίως δὲ καὶ περὶ τῶν ἄλλων ὅσα τῆς αὐτῆς ἐστι μεθόδου, λέγωμεν ἀρξάμενοι κατὰ φύσιν πρῶτον ἀπὸ τῶν πρώτων. 23 Some scholars believe there are exceptional cases, in which Aristotle does interpret Homer allegorically. I challenge this view, especially in chapter 10. 24 Frs. 63, 66c, 67a–b Janko are ‘new.’ In the case of frs. 65a–e, cf. 76 Rose and 20 Gigon; frs. 66a–b, cf. 75 Rose and 21 Gigon. 25 The evidence for the titles of this work, and the number of its books, is discussed in chapter 2. 26 The main (relevant) meanings given for these terms in LSJ and BDAG are: ζήτημα (inquiry, question), πρόβλημα (hindrance, obstacle, problem, difficulty), and ἀπόρημα (question, problem, puzzle, difficulty; cf. ἀπορία).

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 11/12/2018, SPi

10

Aristotle’s Lost Homeric Problems

Of capital importance, given the focus of the present work, is Poetics 25, which is devoted to answering objections to Homer and solving Homeric problems.27 It begins: “Concerning problems and solutions, from how many [sources] and what kinds they are, it would become clear by considering them as follows”28 (1460b6–7). I turn to Poetics 25 now, as it must certainly cast light on the methodology of the lost Homeric Problems. Aristotle begins Poetics 25 by presenting three basic principles to keep in mind in evaluating Homer or solving Homeric problems: (1) Since the poet is representational, just like a painter or some other image-maker, he is necessarily always representing some one of three things in number: either the sorts of thing that were or are, or the sorts of thing [people] say or think [were or are], or the sorts of thing that ought to be. (2) These are expressed in speech in which there is unusual language and metaphors and many modifications of speech; for we grant these to poets. (3) In addition to these, there is not the same [conception of] correctness for politics and for poetics, nor [is it the same] for any other art and for poetics. Now error in poetics itself is twofold: on the one hand essential [to the art], on the other incidental [to it]. For if [a painter] chose to represent inability, the error is in [the art of painting] itself; but if by choosing [to imitate it] incorrectly, he rather [imitated] the horse with both right [legs] thrown forward, the error is according to the particular art—for instance, according to medicine or another art of whatever sort—not according to the art itself.29 (1460b8–21)

27 Halliwell (1998, 327–8) writes: “Poetics 25 has the look of being a compressed summary of an already worked out scheme of problems and their solutions. But I am not aware of any clear evidence for the date of the Homeric Problems . . . The Homeric Problems, containing a mass of material on a very large number of issues, would in any case appear a peculiarly suitable work to have been compiled over a protracted period of time.” See also Janko (2011, 388–9). For this reason, the relative dates of Poetics 25 and the Homeric Problems will not concern me. On the connection between Poetics 25 and the Homeric Problems, see Römer (1884), Carroll (1895), Hintenlang (1961, 106–41), and Verhasselt (forthcoming). On Poetics 25, I would recommend (from among the vast secondary literature) Rosenmeyer (1973), Halliwell (1987, 176–80), and Schmitt (2011, 700–23). For accounts of Aristotle on Homer more broadly (and particularly his references to Homer in the extant works), see Howes (1895) and Sanz Morales (1994). Sanz Morales (1994, 187–98) contains a useful list of all of the Homeric references in the extant works of Aristotle. 28 Περὶ δὲ προβλημάτων καὶ λύσεων, ἐκ πόσων τε καὶ ποίων εἰδῶν ἐστιν, ὧδ’ ἂν θεωροῦσιν γένοιτ’ ἂν φανερόν. 29 ἐπεὶ γάρ ἐστι μιμητὴς ὁ ποιητὴς ὡσπερανεὶ ζωγράφος ἤ τις ἄλλος εἰκονοποιός, ἀνάγκη μιμεῖσθαι τριῶν ὄντων τὸν ἀριθμὸν ἕν τι ἀεί, ἢ γὰρ οἷα ἦν ἢ ἔστιν, ἢ οἷά φασιν

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 11/12/2018, SPi

Homeric Scholarship and Aristotle’s Poetics 25

11

These principles generate a dozen ways (or so Aristotle claims) of solving Homeric problems or objections to Homer (which I discuss and illustrate shortly). Aristotle ends the chapter with a summary of the five kinds of criticism leveled against Homer, which the twelve ways of solving problems are meant to answer: Therefore, people bring criticisms of five kinds: that things are impossible (ἀδύνατα) or illogical (ἄλογα)30 or harmful (βλαβερά)31 or contradictory (ὑπεναντία) or contrary to what is right according to [another] art (παρὰ τὴν ὀρθότητα τὴν κατὰ τέχνην). The solutions, however, must be sought from the number of those mentioned, and they are twelve.32 (1461b22–5)

I do not believe that each of the twelve kinds of solution falls under one of these five kinds of criticism, but that the various solutions can be used to answer one or more of these criticisms. Here are the twelve, as I see it, organized according to kind (again, as I see it).33 I have tried where possible to include one example that Aristotle provides in the Poetics 25 presentation of these solutions, and one from the remains of the Homeric Problems. (Cf. Carroll (1893).) καὶ δοκεῖ, ἢ οἷα εἶναι δεῖ. ταῦτα δ’ ἐξαγγέλλεται λέξει ἐν ᾗ καὶ γλῶτται καὶ μεταφοραὶ καὶ πολλὰ πάθη τῆς λέξεώς ἐστι· δίδομεν γὰρ ταῦτα τοῖς ποιηταῖς. πρὸς δὲ τούτοις οὐχ ἡ αὐτὴ ὀρθότης ἐστὶν τῆς πολιτικῆς καὶ τῆς ποιητικῆς οὐδὲ ἄλλης τέχνης καὶ ποιητικῆς. αὐτῆς δὲ τῆς ποιητικῆς διττὴ ἁμαρτία, ἡ μὲν γὰρ καθ’ αὑτήν, ἡ δὲ κατὰ συμβεβηκός. εἰ μὲν γὰρ προείλετο μιμήσασθαι ἀδυναμίαν, αὐτῆς ἡ ἁμαρτία· εἰ δὲ τῷ προελέσθαι μὴ ὀρθῶς, ἀλλὰ τὸν ἵππον ἄμφω τὰ δεξιὰ προβεβληκότα, [ἢ] τὸ καθ’ ἑκάστην τέχνην ἁμάρτημα, οἷον τὸ κατ’ ἰατρικὴν ἢ ἄλλην τέχνην [ἢ ἀδύνατα πεποίηται] ὁποιανοῦν, οὐ καθ’ ἑαυτήν. I follow Janko’s (1987, xxvi) suggestion for filling the lacuna, as well as his bracketing of parts of 1460b19–21. 30 This (ἄλογα) often seems to mean ‘implausible.’ See notes 34 and 36. 31 This is usually taken to mean morally harmful to the audience. But Bouchard (2010) makes a strong case for taking this to mean harmful to (i.e. contrary to the interests of ) a character undertaking some action. 32 τὰ μὲν οὖν ἐπιτιμήματα ἐκ πέντε εἰδῶν φέρουσιν· ἢ γὰρ ὡς ἀδύνατα ἢ ὡς ἄλογα ἢ ὡς βλαβερὰ ἢ ὡς ὑπεναντία ἢ ὡς παρὰ τὴν ὀρθότητα τὴν κατὰ τέχνην. αἱ δὲ λύσεις ἐκ τῶν εἰρημένων ἀριθμῶν σκεπτέαι, εἰσὶν δὲ δώδεκα. 33 That Aristotle explicitly mentions twelve ways to solve Homeric problems (see 1461b25) has led to a great deal of scholarly conjecture and debate, as the twelve ways are not easy to identify. One ‘solution’ has been to bracket εἰσὶν δὲ δώδεκα (see the previous note) in the text (Tucker 1899) or to ignore it in one’s translation and discussion of the passage (see e.g. Halliwell 1987, 63 and 68). This is tempting. For two lengthy discussions of the twelve solutions, with references to alternative interpretations, see Carroll (1893, 27–55) and De Montmollin (1951, 306–22). See also Golden and Hardison (1968, 275–7). On the problematic nature of Poetics 25, see Rosenmeyer (1973).

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 11/12/2018, SPi

12

Aristotle’s Lost Homeric Problems

A. Replies to criticisms involving the art itself, and what is represented 1. To the charge that what is portrayed is impossible (ἀδύνατα),34 one may reply that though this would in most cases be an error, it is permissible “if it achieves the end of the [art] itself ” (εἰ τυγχάνει τοῦ τέλους τοῦ αὑτῆς) (1460b22–9).35 Aristotle gives as an example “the pursuit of Hector” (παράδειγμα ἡ τοῦ Ἕκτορος δίωξις), which he had earlier said was something marvelous (τὸ θαυμαστόν).36 Now there are numerous examples from Porphyry and the scholia of problems based on portrayals that are said to be impossible (ἀδύνατα) or implausible (ἄλογα).37 For example, in response to a passage (mentioned earlier, in connection with Zoilus) in which Athena bestows on Diomedes strength and daring, and “kindled from his helmet and shield tireless fire,” Porphyry records the following: “This is impossible; for how could he live burning from the head and the shoulders?”38 (schol. B* Il. 5.7 = HQI pp. 88–9 MacPhail). But so far as I know, there are no examples among the fragments of the Homeric Problems of Aristotle responding to such a problem in the way indicated here. (For an example of a scene thought to be ἄλογον, which Aristotle responds to with a different kind of solution, see no. 3 below.) 2. To the charge that what is portrayed is erroneous, one may reply by pointing out that the error is incidental to the art itself (e.g. to epic or painting), even though it is an error according to some other discipline (1460b29–32). Aristotle gives as an example a painter erroneously portraying a female deer with horns.39 There are unfortunately no 34 It is probable that this solution is meant to apply to both what is said to be impossible (ἀδύνατα) and illogical or implausible (ἄλογα). See note 36. 35 At the very end of his Preface de Cromwell (1827), Victor Hugo’s manifesto of the Romantic movement in literature, he quotes a (loose) French translation of this passage, in order to use Aristotle against those who claimed him as their champion— i.e. the Classicists: “Si le poëte établit des choses impossibles selon les règles de son art, il commet une faute sans contredit; mais elle cesse d’être faute, lorsque par ce moyen il arrive à la fin qu’il s’est proposée; car il a trouvé ce qu’il cherchait.” He then comments: “On voit à ce seul échantillon que l’auteur de ce drame aurait pu comme un autre se cuirasser de noms propres et se réfugier derrière des réputations. Mais il a voulu laisser ce mode d’argumentation à ceux qui le croient invincible, universel et souverain. Quant à lui, il préfère des raisons à des autorités; il a toujours mieux aimé des armes que des armoiries.” 36 At Poet. 24.1460a14–17, Aristotle gives Achilles’ pursuit of Hector (Il. 22.131–225) as an example of what is illogical or unreasonable (τὸ ἄλογον). On stage (i.e. in tragedy) it would be comical, but it works in epic—in fact, it is marvelous. 37 See Carroll (1895, 19–21). 38 ἀδύνατον τοῦτο· πῶς γὰρ ἂν ἔζησεν ὁ οὕτω καιόμενοςἀπὸ τῆς κεφαλῆς καὶ τῶν ὤμων; 39 For more on this example, see p. 50 n. 2.

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 11/12/2018, SPi

Homeric Scholarship and Aristotle’s Poetics 25

13

examples from the fragmentary evidence for the Homeric Problems that fall under this category of solution. However, in chapter 4, section 1.3 (pp. 55–7), I argue that there was almost certainly criticism and debate (in which Aristotle participated) over the age of Argos, Odysseus’ dog (see Od. 17.290–327), who lived for at least twenty years. (And like the female deer with horns, Aristotle would have known that this was an error of biology.) It is a touching scene, and Aristotle would no doubt have justified on these grounds the stretching of a biological truth. Or to put it another way, it is an error of biology but not of epic poetry. 3. To the charge that what is portrayed is not true to life, one may reply that the artist is presenting things not as they are, but as they ought to be, “even as Sophocles said he himself portrayed people such as they ought to be, Euripides as they are”40 (1460b32–5). Later in Poetics 25 (1461b12–13), Aristotle gives a similar example from painting: “perhaps it is impossible that there are such [people] as Zeuxis painted, but [it is] better [so]; for [the artist] ought to surpass the model.”41 I assume it is not accidental (though I nevertheless find it surprising) that Aristotle provides examples from tragedy and painting, but not from epic. Now if one considers only problems claiming that something is not true to life, then there survive no examples from the Homeric Problems that fall under this category of solution.42 But Aristotle does seem to employ this kind of solution in discussing a scene that some considered improbable or unreasonable: the Teichoscopy in Iliad 3. Atop the Scaean gates, Priam asks Helen to identify the principals of the Greek army. She does so, at one point stopping to say (236–8): But I am unable to see the two leaders of men, Castor breaker-of-horses and the good boxer Polydeuces, my own brothers, the two born with me from a single mother.43

οἷον καὶ Σοφοκλῆς ἔφη αὐτὸς μὲν οἵους δεῖ ποιεῖν, Εὐριπίδην δὲ οἷοι εἰσίν. ἴσως γὰρ ἀδύνατον τοιούτους εἶναι οἷον Ζεῦξις ἔγραφεν, ἀλλὰ βέλτιον· τὸ γὰρ παράδειγμα δεῖ ὑπερέχειν. On ἴσως γὰρ ἀδύνατον, see the apparatus criticus in Tarán and Gutas (2012, 216), and their notes on the text (301 and 463–4). My translation follows Janko’s (1987, 40). 42 Verhasselt (forthcoming): “Solutions of this kind don’t recur in the fragments of the Homeric Problems; the reason for this is probably that idealized representations were no major problem for the Homer critics who came before Aristotle.” See also Hintenlang (1961, 52). 40 41

43

δοιὼ δ᾽ οὐ δύναμαι ἰδέειν κοσμήτορε λαῶν Κάστορά θ᾽ ἱππόδαμον καὶ πὺξ ἀγαθὸν Πολυδεύκεα αὐτοκασιγνήτω, τώ μοι μία γείνατο μήτηρ. We learn a few verses later (243–4) that they are already dead and buried in Sparta.

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 11/12/2018, SPi

14

Aristotle’s Lost Homeric Problems

This gave rise to a Homeric problem (schol. B* Il. 3.236 = fr. 147 Rose/371 Gigon):44 Why did [Homer] portray Helen not knowing about her brothers, that they were not present, though the war was ten years old and many captives had been taken? For it is implausible (ἄλογον). And yet even if she did not know, it was not necessary [for her] to be reminded of them, as she was not asked by Priam about them; for [including] a reminder of them was not a function of the poet. Therefore Aristotle says: Perhaps she was prevented by Alexander [= Paris] from meeting the captives; or perhaps she did not even know where her brothers were, so that her character would appear better (τὸ ἦθος βελτίων φανῇ), i.e. she would not be meddling.45

Aristotle gives two solutions: The first seems to deny that the scene is implausible; the second arguably falls under the present category: Homer is presenting Helen as a woman ought to be.46 4. To the charge that what is portrayed is false, one may reply that even so, people believe that it is true. Aristotle gives as an example the traditional gods (which populate Homeric epic, lyric poetry, and classical drama): Even if Xenophanes is right and no such gods exist, this is not grounds for criticizing the poets, as most people do believe in such gods (1460b35–1461a1).47 Here is an example from the Homeric Problems: Some critics wondered how the Cyclops Polyphemus could come from two parents who were not Cyclopes, as his father was Poseidon and his mother the sea nymph Thoösa (see Od. 1.71–3): Aristotle inquires how the Cyclops Polyphemus was himself born a Cyclops, when he was neither [the son] of a Cyclops father—for he was [a son] of Poseidon—nor [the son] of a [Cyclops] mother. 44 This text is not included in Erbse’s edition of the scholia, as he excluded those thought to come from Porphyry. But MacPhail excludes it from his edition as well, so I have used Schrader’s (1880, 70). 45 διὰ τί τὴν Ἑλένην πεποίηκεν ἀγνοοῦσαν περὶ τῶν ἀδελφῶν ὅτι οὐ παρῆσαν, δεκαετοῦς τοῦ πολέμου ὄντος καὶ αἰχμαλώτων πολλῶν γινομένων; ἄλογον γάρ. ἔτι δὲ καὶ εἰ ἠγνόει, ἀλλ’ οὐκ ἦν ἀναγκαῖον μνησθῆναι τούτων οὐκ ἐρωτηθεῖσαν ὑπὸ τοῦ Πριάμου περὶ αὐτῶν· οὐδὲ γὰρ πρὸς τὴν ποίησιν πρὸ ἔργου ἦν ἡ τούτων μνήμη. φησὶ μὲν οὖν Ἀριστοτέλης· ἴσως ὑπὸ τοῦ Ἀλεξάνδρου ἐντυγχάνειν ἐφυλάττετο τοῖς αἰχμαλώτοις· ἢ ὅπως τὸ ἦθος βελτίων φανῇ καὶ μὴ πολυπραγμονοίη, οὐδὲ τοὺς ἀδελφοὺς ᾔδει ὅπου εἰσί. 46 For more on this text, see Hintenlang (1961, 113–15), Breitenberger (2006, 385), Bouchard (2016, 292–3), and Verhasselt (forthcoming). 47 Although Xenophanes believed in a god or gods (21 B 23–7 DK), he held that these were nothing like the gods of Homer (21 B 11–12, 14–16).

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 11/12/2018, SPi

Homeric Scholarship and Aristotle’s Poetics 25

15

He solved it with another myth. For horses were born of Boreas [i.e. he sired them] and the horse Pegasus [was born] of Poseidon and Medusa.48 (schol. V Od. 9.106/schol. T Od 9.311 = fr. 172 Rose/395 Gigon)

The stories about the gods, the nymphs, and their offspring are part of a world of beliefs held (or once held) to be true, and it is enough that some claim of Homer’s fits comfortably into that world. That is sufficient esthetic justification. 5. To the charge that the things portrayed are not better (than they should be or than they are or than people say they are), one may reply that “they were that way” (οὕτως εἶχεν) (1461a1–4). Aristotle gives as an example a line from the Iliad about weapons (10.152–3): “their spears upright on spikes” (ἔγχεα δέ σφιν | ὄρθ’ ἐπὶ σαυρωτῆρος). Someone might charge that this is not a prudent way to store weapons, and therefore a flaw in Homer’s portrayal; but Aristotle would reply that nevertheless this is the way things used to be done (and, he adds, is still done among the Illyrians).49 Here is another example, from the Homeric Problems: After the funeral games, still unable to overcome his grief for the loss of Patroclus, Achilles drags the corpse of Hector from the back of his chariot three times around Patroclus’ tomb (Il. 24.14–18). This gave rise to a Homeric problem, for which Aristotle offered a solution: Why was Achilles dragging Hector around the tomb of Patroclus, acting contrary to established custom with respect to the corpse? . . . It is possible to solve [this], Aristotle says, also by referring to the fact that the existing customs were like that, since even nowadays in Thessaly they drag [corpses] around tombs.50 (schol. B* Il. 24.15 = Porph. HQI pp. 258–61 MacPhail = fr. 166 Rose/389 Gigon) ζητεῖ Ἀριστοτέλης πῶς ὁ Κύκλωψ Πολύφημος μήτε πατρὸς ὢν Κύκλωπος, Ποσειδῶνος γὰρ ἦν, μήτε μητρὸς, αὐτὸς Κύκλωψ ἐγένετο. ἑτέρῳ μύθῳ ἐπιλύεται. καὶ γὰρ ἐκ Βορέου ἵπποι γίνονται καὶ ἐκ Ποσειδῶνος καὶ τῆς Μεδούσης ὁ Πήγασος ἵππος. 49 Aristotle used the same example in the Homeric Problems (schol. B* Il. 10.153 = Schrader 1880, 145 = fr. 160 Rose/383 Gigon)—unless the Poetics is the actual source for this text. 50 διὰ τί ὁ Ἀχιλλεὺς τὸν Ἕκτορα εἷλκε περὶ τὸν τάφον τοῦ Πατρόκλου, παρὰ τὰ νενομισμένα ποιῶν εἰς τὸν νεκρόν; . . . ἔστι δὲ λύειν, φησὶν Ἀριστοτέλης, καὶ εἰς τὰ ὑπάρχοντα ἀνάγοντ’ ἔθη ὅτι τοιαῦτα ἦν, ἐπεὶ καὶ νῦν ἐν Θετταλίᾳ περιέλκουσι περὶ τοὺς τάφους. Aristotle is referring specifically to the corpses of murderers, which are dragged around the graves of their victims. 48

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 11/12/2018, SPi

16

Aristotle’s Lost Homeric Problems

6. To the charge that a character is portrayed (uncharacteristically?) saying or doing something beautifully or not beautifully (nobly or not nobly, καλῶς ἢ μὴ καλῶς),51 one may reply that it is not enough to look at the action itself, one must keep in mind the context: who is “doing or saying it, or to whom, or when, or by what means, or for the sake of what”52—i.e. for the sake of good or evil (1461a4–9). Aristotle does not give an example here, but there are a few examples of this kind of solution (or at least of actions done μὴ καλῶς) among the fragments of the Homeric Problems. For instance, in Iliad 2, Athena intervenes to stop the Greek army from departing by rousing Odysseus from his inactivity, which was caused by his disappointment over the reaction of the Greeks to Agamemnon’s test. Springing to action, “he set out running, and threw off his cloak” (βῆ δὲ θέειν, ἀπὸ δὲ χλαῖναν βάλε) (183). This bothered some Homeric scholars: It seems to be inappropriate that Odysseus, having thrown down his cloak, runs through the encampment in a single tunic, and especially such a man as Odysseus is supposed to be. Now Aristotle says [he did it] so that by being amazed at this the crowd might turn around and his voice would reach a greater [distance or number of people], and people would convene from different places.53 (schol. B* Il. 2.183 = Porph. HQI pp. 40–1 MacPhail = fr. 143 Rose/368 Gigon)

As is often the case, what bothered ancient scholars does not bother modern scholars in the least. For instance, Kirk comments (1985, 134): “Odysseus’ throwing off of his cloak and its gathering up by the herald provide a vivid detail to illustrate the hero’s swift and purposeful response.”

51

There is a controversy over whether Aristotle is here referring to esthetic or ethical correctness. See Carroll (1895, 33–40) for an excellent discussion, drawing on both the Poetics and the relevant Homeric scholia. (He favors esthetic correctness: “whether what has been said or done by someone is poetically good or not.”) 52 ἀλλὰ καὶ εἰς τὸν πράττοντα ἢ λέγοντα, ἢ πρὸς ὃν ἢ ὅτε ἢ ὅτῳ ἢ οὗ ἕνεκεν. 53 ἀπρεπὲς εἶναι δοκεῖ τὴν χλαῖναν ἀποβαλόντα μονοχίτωνα θεῖν τὸν Ὀδυσσέα διὰ τοῦ στρατοπέδου, καὶ μάλιστα οἷος Ὀδυσσεὺς εἶναι ὑπείληπται. φησὶ δ’ Ἀριστοτέλης ἵνα διὰ τὸ τοῦτο θαυμάζειν ὁ ὄχλος ἐπιστρέφηται καὶ ἐξικνῆται ἡ φωνὴ ὡς ἐπὶ μείζον, ἄλλου ἄλλοθεν συνιόντος.

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 11/12/2018, SPi

Homeric Scholarship and Aristotle’s Poetics 25

17

B. Solutions involving language54 7a.55 “Some [problems] should be solved by looking at the diction”56—in one case by pointing out that some word at the center of a criticism is in fact an unusual or foreign word (γλῶττα) (1461a9–16). For example: Why, when Apollo shoots his arrows at the Greeks, would he hit “the mules first” (οὐρῆας μὲν πρῶτον, Il. 1.50)?57 Aristotle’s suggestion is that “perhaps [Homer] means [by οὐρῆας] not ‘the mules’ but ‘the guards’.”58 Here is an example from the Homeric Problems: Early in Book 5 of the Odyssey, Zeus sends Hermes to Calypso, to tell her to release Odysseus. Before he delivers his message, they dine. She serves him ambrosia and nectar—mixing this latter (5.93), presumably the way the Greeks normally mixed wine, with water. This gave rise to a problem: “If the gods drink nothing other than nectar, why does Calypso give it to Hermes mixed?”59 Aristotle’s solution: ‘to mix’ can also mean ‘to pour’—this latter purportedly being an unusual sense of the word60 (schol. T Od. 5.93e1 = fr. 170.1 Rose/393.1 Gigon).61 7b. Some problems should be solved by looking at the diction—in another case by pointing out that some word at the center of a criticism is in fact a metaphor (μεταφορά) (1461a16–21). For example, Homer says that the constellation called Bear or Wagon “alone has no share” (οἴη δ’ ἄμμορος) in Ocean’s baths (Il. 18.489, Od. 5.275)—i.e. it alone never sinks below the horizon—but this is inaccurate, as some others 54 In schol. EHP1TX Od. 5.334e (= fr. 171.1 Rose; cf. 394 Gigon), Porphyry implies that textual conjectures or emendations do not count as solutions. Judging by the six solutions under this heading, Porphyry was likely following Aristotle. 55 One common way of making Aristotle’s list contain twelve items is to combine the γλῶττα solution and the μεταφορά solution (see e.g. Heath 1996, 44 and Schmitt 2011, 705). I have done this as well, though without much confidence, and I concede that it is more natural to treat these two separately (see e.g. Janko 1987, 38–9). The content remains the same in either case. 56 τὰ δὲ πρὸς τὴν λέξιν ὁρῶντα δεῖ διαλύειν. 57 We know that such a criticism was leveled by Zoilus. See Heraclitus, Homeric Problems 14 (= FGrHist 71, fr. 5). 58 ἴσως γὰρ οὐ τοὺς ἡμιόνους λέγει ἀλλὰ τοὺς φύλακας. There was a word meaning ‘guard’ that was similar to the word for mule. I discuss this and other such criticisms in chapter 6, section 1 (pp. 106–9). 59 “κέρασσε δὲ νέκταρ ἐρυθρόν”: εἰ μηδὲν ἄλλο πίνουσιν οἱ θεοὶ ἢ τὸ νέκταρ, διὰ τί αὐτὸ ἡ Καλυψὼ τῷ Ἑρμῇ κεράσασα δίδωσιν. 60 λύων οὖν ὁ Ἀριστοτέλης τὸ “κέρασσε”, φησίν, ἤτοι τὸ μῖξαι ἄλλο ἄλλῳ ὑγρῷ δηλοῖ, ⟨ἢ⟩ τὸ ἐγχέαι. 61 See also schol. EX Od. 5.93e2 = fr. 170.2 Rose/393.2 Gigon. Porphyry is said to be the source. I discuss these texts in greater detail in chapter 6, section 1 (p. 109).

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 11/12/2018, SPi

18

Aristotle’s Lost Homeric Problems

as well never do this. Aristotle replies that ‘alone’ here is a metaphor for ‘alone of the well-known ones,’ which would make the statement true.62 Here is another example: One Homeric problem involved an apparent contradiction in how Crete is described in the Iliad and in the Odyssey: in the one epic it is described as “hundred-city Crete” (Il. 2.649), in the other as having ninety cities (Od. 19.173). Aristotle offers two or three solutions (depending on how one interprets the scholium), one involving metaphor: ‘hundred’ may have been used metaphorically for ‘many’—and ninety (the actual or more accurate number) is many (schol. B* Il. 2.649 = Porph. HQI pp. 68–9 MacPhail = fr. 146 Rose/370 Gigon).63 8.64 Some problems should be solved according to pronunciation (κατὰ προσῳδίαν) (1461a21–3).65 Aristotle gives two examples from Hippias of Thasos, one of which I mention here: In the Iliad (23.328), people generally took Homer to be referring to a stump made of oak or pine, “something not rotted away by rain” (τὸ μὲν οὐ καταπύθεται ὄμβρῳ), which some thought was strange (for why would one point out that it is not rotted). Hippias’ solution is to pronounce ΟΥ differently, i.e. (as we would put it) to replace οὐ with οὗ, which yields “part of which is rotted away by rain.”66 (It is not clear whether this is a solution Aristotle would accept. Modern scholars do not.) No examples survive from the Homeric Problems. Five scholia, however, do attribute such a ‘solution’ to Aristotle, claiming that at Il. 21.252 he replaced μέλανος τοῦ (in αἰετοῦ οἴματ’ ἔχων μέλανος τοῦ θηρητῆρος, “with the swoops of a black eagle, the hunter”) with μελανόστου (“with the swoops of a black-bone eagle, a hunter”)—τοῦ being the 62

I discuss this and other metaphors in chapter 5, section 2.3. I discuss this text in greater detail in chapter 5, section 2.3 (pp. 97–8). 64 Here and in the next entry, one must keep in mind that the ancient Greeks at the time wrote scriptio continua and without accent marks. 65 ‘Pronunciation’ is shorthand. Note Dickey’s entry for προσῳδία (2007, 256–7): “variation in pitch, pronunciation with a certain pitch, accentuation,” etc. 66 We know from Aristotle’s Sophistical Refutations (4.166b1–9) that οὐ is the supposed problem, and οὗ the solution: “It is not easy to create an argument according to pronunciation in unwritten discussion, but it is more so in written discussion and in poetry. For instance, some emend Homer against those who question as strange his having said ‘τὸ μὲν οὐ καταπύθεται ὄμβρῳ’; for they solve it by pronunciation, saying the ου with a more acute [accent].” παρὰ δὲ τὴν προσῳδίαν ἐν μὲν τοῖς ἄνευ γραφῆς διαλεκτικοῖς οὐ ῥᾴδιον ποιῆσαι λόγον, ἐν δὲ τοῖς γεγραμμένοις καὶ ποιήμασι μᾶλλον. οἷον καὶ τὸν Ὅμηρον ἔνιοι διορθοῦνται πρὸς τοὺς ἐλέγχοντας ὡς ἄτοπον εἰρηκότα “τὸ μὲν οὐ καταπύθεται ὄμβρῳ”· λύουσι γὰρ αὐτὸ τῇ προσῳδίᾳ, λέγοντες τὸ “ου” ὀξύτερον. 63

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 11/12/2018, SPi

Homeric Scholarship and Aristotle’s Poetics 25

19

supposedly problematic word. In Mayhew (2017b), however, I argue that this attribution is incorrect. 9. Some problems should be solved by division (τὰ δὲ διαιρέσει), i.e. punctuation (1461a23–5). Aristotle provides one example, from Empedocles: “at once mortal things were born that formerly learned to be immortal, and things pure formerly mixed.”67 The problem concerns the latter clause, which could be taken in either of two ways, depending on punctuation: “things that formerly were pure, were [later] mixed” (the correct reading) or “things that were pure, were formerly mixed.” No examples survive from the Homeric Problems. 10. Some problems should be solved by assuming ambiguity (τὰ δὲ ἀμφιβολίᾳ) (1461a25–6). Aristotle gives as an example a semi-verse in Il. 10.252 (παρῴχηκεν δὲ πλέω νύξ), though he clearly has in mind the verse that follows as well. Here is the entire passage (from the Homeric manuscript tradition, as the variation in Aristotle’s text does not matter in the present context): “more than two parts of the night have passed on, and a third part is still left” (παροίχωκεν δὲ πλέων νὺξ | τῶν δύο μοιράων τριτάτη δ᾽ ἔτι μοῖρα λέλειπται). Aristotle merely adds that “‘more’ in this passage is ambiguous” (τὸ γὰρ πλείω ἀμφίβολόν ἐστιν). He discussed this same passage in his Homeric Problems, providing a lengthy explanation of the ambiguity. As Porphyry makes clear in his Homeric Questions on the Iliad, this was a controversial passage in antiquity,68 as the math seems to be wrong: “For how, if these two parts and yet more of them as well have run out, does the third part remain but not part of a third?”69 Porphyry describes a number of solutions, before presenting Aristotle’s, which is lengthy and complex, and in which he explains “the indeterminate quantity of the ‘more’” (τὸ ἀόριστον τοῦ πλείονος πόσον). If I understand Aristotle’s reasoning, it can be summarized as follows: The night is divided into twelve hours, which can further be considered to consist of two parts (of six hours each). What Homer is actually saying (ambiguously, to be sure) is that of the two parts, one has increased (is greater, πλείω) by two hours (6+2=8), which leaves 67 αἶψα δὲ θνήτ’ ἐφύοντο τὰ πρὶν μάθον ἀθάνατ’ εἶναι ζωρά τε πρὶν κέκρητο (fr. 35.14–15 DK). 68 In fact, the opening of this long scholium suggests that this Homeric question may have been the first one that Porphyry dealt with. See schol. B* Il. 10.252 = Porph. HQI (pp. 170–7 MacPhail) = fr. 161 Rose/385 Gigon. 69 πῶς γὰρ εἰ αἱ δύο μοῖραι ἐξήκουσιν αὐταί τε καὶ ἔτι τούτων πλέον, ἡ τριτάτη μοῖρα λέλειπται ἀλλ’ οὐχὶ τῆς τρίτης μόριον;

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 11/12/2018, SPi

20

Aristotle’s Lost Homeric Problems

four hours remaining, which is one third of the night. I have a hard time believing that this is what the poet had in mind, but it does demonstrate the lengths to which Aristotle will go to defend him. 11. Some problems should be solved with reference to “habit of speech” (τὰ δὲ κατὰ τὸ ἔθος τῆς λέξεως), i.e. linguistic usage (1461a27–31). Here is one of the examples Aristotle provides: Homer says that Ganymede “poured wine for Zeus” (Διὶ οἰνοχοεύειν, Il. 20.234); but this seems to be problematic, as gods do not drink wine. Aristotle replies that people call men who work with iron “bronzesmiths” (χαλκέας τοὺς τὸν σίδηρον ἐργαζομένους), and so Homer was simply using that same sort of inexact analogical or metaphorical reference to materials in composing this verse about Ganymede serving Zeus.70 No examples survive from the Homeric Problems. C. On apparent contradictions 11ʹ.71 If a word seems to imply a contradiction, one should look at how many different meanings the word might have, and pick the best one (in context), as that could solve the problem (1461a31–5). Aristotle gives one example of a problematic verse, but does not explain how his solution works in this case: “by it the bronze spear was held” (τῇ ῥ’ ἔσχετο χάλκεον72 ἔγχος, Il. 20.272). Achilles’ shield has five layers, two of bronze, two of tin, and one of gold.73 Aeneas’ spear went through two layers but was stopped by the gold one. This would seem to imply that the gold layer is in the middle, though it 70 In fact, Aristotle adds that this problem could also be solved with reference to metaphor (εἴη δ’ ἂν τοῦτό γε καὶ κατὰ μεταφοράν)—wine here being a metaphor for nectar. 71 Those who treat nos. 7a and 7b as one solution (as I have) tend to consider what I have labeled nos. 11ʹ and 12, combined, as the twelfth solution (because they both refer to contradictions); whereas those who treat nos. 7a and 7b as two separate solutions, tend not to consider among the twelve solutions what I have labeled nos. 11ʹ and 12. See notes 33 and 55. But none of this matters much in the end, as what does matter is the content of these solutions. I have labeled this passage (i.e. 1461a31–5) no. 11ʹ because it seems to me to be a general addendum to or summary of nos. 7a, 7b, 10, and 11, applied to an apparent contradiction: I take Aristotle to be saying that if one encounters what seems to be a contradiction, one should consider whether a key term is ambiguous, foreign, metaphorical, or the product of some sort of habit of speech. Aristotle then expands this into a general principle to follow when encountering contradictions, which I have labeled no. 12. 72 Where Aristotle has χάλκεον, the major Homeric manuscripts have μείλινον (‘ash’). 73 The layers of Achilles’ shield were sometimes interpreted allegorically, the allegorical meaning explaining their seemingly unusual order. See e.g. Heraclitus, HP 50–1.

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 11/12/2018, SPi

Homeric Scholarship and Aristotle’s Poetics 25

21

must in fact be on the outside (where it can be seen). So there is an apparent contradiction: the gold layer must be on the outside, but this passage implies that it is in the middle. Aristotle thinks that if one considers the different ways in which something can be hindered or prevented (κωλυθῆναι)—which I assume is the equivalent here of considering the different senses of ἔσχετο—the problem can be solved. I take it his solution is that Homer is here in fact saying that the spear was hindered by the outer gold layer, but was stopped by the third layer, which would have been tin.74 Now this does not seem to be an essentially different solution from no. 11 (ambiguity, of ἔσχετο in this case). Perhaps Aristotle is stressing that one should, when encountering a contradiction, first check to see if any of the words in the verse are ambiguous—or foreign, or metaphors, or the product of unusual linguistic usage. The following example from the Homeric Problems could be used to illustrate no. 11 above, though the ambiguity in this case is referred to specifically to explain an apparent contradiction: A passage in the Odyssey (12.374–5) seems to contradict a description in the Iliad (3.277–8) of the Sun’s ‘omniscience.’ “Why, having said that the Sun beholds all things and hears all things (Il. 3.277), did [Homer] portray him needing a messenger in the case of his own cattle” [i.e. at Od. 12.374]? One of Aristotle’s three proposed solutions is that “the Sun does see all things but not at the same time”75 (schol. B* Iliad 3.277 = fr. 149 Rose/373 Gigon).76 12. Sometimes the problem is actually the result of a false assumption on the part of the critic of Homer (1461b1–9).77 That is, an apparent 74 Some translators impart this problem unnecessarily into their translations. Consider the verse and a half that precedes the words quoted by Aristotle: τὰς δύο χαλκείας, δύο δ᾽ ἔνδοθι κασσιτέροιο, | τὴν δὲ μίαν χρυσῆν, “two of bronze, two on the inside of tin, | and one gold” (Il. 20.271–2). Lattimore translates this “two of bronze on the outside and on the inside two of tin, | and between them the single gold,” and Fagles does the same. (Lombardo’s is better.) 75 διὰ τί τὸν ἥλιον πάντα ἐφορᾶν καὶ πάντα ἐπακούειν εἰπών, ἐπὶ τῶν ἑαυτοῦ βοῶν ἀγγέλου δεόμενον ἐποίησεν “ὠκέα δ’ ἠελίῳ ὑπερίονι ἄγγελος ἦλθε Λαμπετίη τανύπεπλος, ὅ οἱ βόας ἔκταν ἑταῖροι”. λύων δ’ Ἀριστοτέλης φησίν, ἤτοι ὅτι πάντα μὲν ὁρᾷ ἥλιος ἀλλ’ οὐχὶ ἅμα, κτλ. 76 This text is not included in Erbse’s edition of the scholia, as he excluded those thought to come from Porphyry. But MacPhail excludes it from his edition as well, so I have used Schrader (1890, 113–14). 77 There is a disputed word at the beginning of this passage: ὅτι is the reading of the Greek manuscript tradition, ἔτι the reading of the lost Greek manuscript translated into Syriac (and then into Arabic). I believe ἔτι is likely correct, and so take what follows (1461b1–9) to be an additional point (i.e. not part of no. 11ʹ).

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 11/12/2018, SPi

22

Aristotle’s Lost Homeric Problems

contradiction is generated by someone’s false preconception, and so the problem turns out to be the preconception and not anything in Homer.78 Aristotle gives the following example: This is what happened in the matters surrounding Icarius.79 For people believe he is Laconian; therefore [they conclude] it is strange that Telemachus does not meet him when he goes to Lacedaemon. But perhaps it is as the Cephallenians claim: for they say that Odysseus married from among them and that [his father-in-law] is Icadius and not Icarius; so it is probable that the problem is because of an error [sc. on the part of the critic].80

The following is a likely example from the Homeric Problems: In Iliad 4.68–103, Hera and Athena wish to break the truce between the Greeks and Trojans, following the duel, so that they can continue their work to bring about the destruction of Troy. Hera convinces Zeus to send Athena to provoke the Trojans to break their oath, which she does by persuading a Trojan ally, the Lycian Pandarus, to shoot an arrow at Menelaus. This generated a problem: “Why did Athena, for the violation of the oaths, select not one of the Trojans but one of the allies? And yet someone would be more gratifying to Alexander if he were from among his own people.”81 One of Aristotle’s solutions involves rejecting as false an assumption in the second line: “In fact Aristotle says that [she selected] none of the Trojans, because they all hated him [sc. Alexander], as the poet says: ‘for he was loathed among them all equal to black Death’ (Il. 3.454).”82 I suspect this was a common solution to Homeric problems. * * * A couple of points, of a general nature, in conclusion.

78 So the contradiction is between what a critic (incorrectly) believes, and what in Homer is in fact the case. 79 The father of Penelope; he is first mentioned (and described as such) at Od. 1.328. 80 τοῦτο δὲ πέπονθε τὰ περὶ Ἰκάριον. οἴονται γὰρ αὐτὸν Λάκωνα εἶναι· ἄτοπον οὖν τὸ μὴ ἐντυχεῖν τὸν Τηλέμαχον αὐτῷ εἰς Λακεδαίμονα ἐλθόντα. τὸ δ’ ἴσως ἔχει ὥσπερ οἱ Κεφαλλῆνές φασι· παρ’ αὑτῶν γὰρ γῆμαι λέγουσι τὸν Ὀδυσσέα καὶ εἶναι Ἰκάδιον ἀλλ’ οὐκ Ἰκάριον· δι’ ἁμάρτημα δὲ τὸ πρόβλημα εἰκός ἐστιν. 81 διὰ τί ἡ Ἀθηνᾶ εἰς σύγχυσιν τῶν ὅρκων οὐ τῶν Τρώων τινὰ ἐπελέξατο ἀλλὰ τῶν ἐπικούρων; καίτοι κεχαρισμένος ἄν τις ἐγένετο Ἀλεξάνδρῳ μᾶλλον εἰ τῶν οἰκείων ἦν. (schol. D Il. 4.93 = fr. 151 Rose/375 Gigon.) 82 καὶ φησὶν οὖν ὁ Ἀριστοτέλης, ὅτι τῶν μὲν Τρώων οὐδένα, διότι πάντες αὐτὸν ἐμίσουν, ὡς ὁ ποιητής φησιν· “ἶσον γάρ σφιν πᾶσιν ἀπήχθετο κῆρι μελαίνῃ”.

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 11/12/2018, SPi

Homeric Scholarship and Aristotle’s Poetics 25

23

First, although there are not numerous examples among the fragmentary remains of the Homeric Problems that illustrate every kind of solution, I think there are enough such connections to conclude that Poetics 25 does give us a general idea of how Aristotle proceeded in that work. This does not mean, however, that every solution that Aristotle proposed fell neatly under one of the twelve kinds presented, nor (as we have seen) that every problem had (according to Aristotle) only one possible solution. And, of course, we should be open to the possibility that Aristotle held that a given problem could not be solved, i.e. that some objection to Homer was in fact a legitimate one. Second, although Aristotle was concerned with ethical issues and problems, and especially issues concerning the character of the gods and heroes, he thought it was important to consider these issues in the contexts in which the agents act, and to judge them by the standards of their time and not one’s own—for instance, as we have seen, in the case of Achilles’ treatment of Hector’s corpse.83 And perhaps more important—in the context of the history of Homeric scholarship— there is no sign in Poetics 25 that Aristotle thought that these or any other problems ought to be solved via allegorical interpretation.84

83 On Aristotle on Achilles as uneven or inconsistent, see chapter 5, section 1.1 (pp. 76–80). And keep in mind that in the Iliad, some of the gods at least clearly disapprove of Achilles’ actions. 84 See Hintenlang (1961, 131–7). Note that a B* scholium on Il. 20.67–75, the likely source of which is Porphyry’s Homeric Questions (see MacPhail 2011, 240–1), considers allegorical interpretation one form of solution from diction (τοιοῦτός ἐστιν ἀπὸ τῆς λέξεως). I believe this is an attempt to make allegorical interpretation fit into Aristotle’s scheme. The plausibility or correctness of this claim depends on whether Aristotle ever employed allegorical interpretation. I return to this issue later (especially in chapter 10), when I consider texts that other scholars have argued are signs of Aristotle’s interest in or employment of allegory.

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 11/12/2018, SPi

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 8/12/2018, SPi

2 The Titles (and Subtitles) of Aristotle’s Lost Work on Homer 2.1. EVIDENCE FOR THE TITLES OF ARISTOTLE’S LOST WORK ON HOMER There are four types of evidence for the titles of the lost work that is the focus of this book: (A) Our best evidence comes from the lists of Aristotle’s works contained in the more reliable (which is not to say entirely reliable) biographies. Diogenes Laertius’ list includes an Ἀπορήματα Ὁμηρικά1 in six books, as does the list in the anonymous Vita Aristotelis Hesychii (or Menagiana).2 A second list in the latter—what Rose (1870, 1468) calls an appendix Hesychiana (which likely has a different source)—includes a Προβλήματα Ὁμηρικά in ten books,3 which appears to be the same as an item on the list in the biography (extant in Arabic) attributed to Ptolemy al-Gharīb,4 as it is called On Problems 1

Given the aims of this chapter, I present the titles in Greek and not in translation. Diogenes Laertius 5.26: Ἀπορημάτων Ὁμηρικῶν α´ β´ γ´ δ´ ε´ ς´; Vita Hesychii/ Menagiana (no. 106): Ἀπορημάτων Ὁμηρικῶν ς´. (The best editions are Dorandi (2013) and (2006), respectively.) The lists in Diogenes Laertius (third century AD) and the Vita Hesychii (sixth century AD) may well go back to the Hellenistic period, though much about their origins is uncertain and disputed. On the ancient biographies of Aristotle, see Moraux (1951) and Dorandi (2016). 3 Vita Hesychii (no. 147): Προβλημάτων Ὁμηρικῶν ι´. Cf. the title of the extant Homeric Problems (Ὁμηρικὰ προβλήματα) of Heraclitus ‘the Allegorist’ (c. first–second centuries AD). Aristotle is never mentioned in this work, perhaps because Heraclitus’ allegorical interpretation is at odds with Aristotle’s approach. 4 A new edition of this biography is in preparation by Dimitri Gutas. Hein (1985) contains the Arabic text (with German translation) of the list of Aristotle’s works transmitted by Ptolemy. This biography may ultimately derive from Andronicus of 2

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 8/12/2018, SPi

26

Aristotle’s Lost Homeric Problems

from the Difficult Subjects of Homer’s Poetry, and is said to be in ten parts.5 So these two are the best candidates for the original title (if there was a single original title). (B) Passages from three other biographies of Aristotle, which seem to be related to one another (their precise chronological order is unclear), refer to the work that concerns me:6 (1) While [Aristotle] was still young, he received the education befitting a free man, as is clear from the Ὁμηρικὰ ζητήματα written by him and the edition of the Iliad which he gave to Alexander, and his dialogue On Poets, his treatise On Poetics, and his Rhetorical Handbooks.7 (Vita Aristotelis Marciana 4; p. 97 Düring) (2) While Aristotle was still young, he received the education befitting a free man, as is clear from what was written by him: On Poetics and Regarding Poets, and further his τὰ Ὁμήρου προβλήματα and Rhetorical Handbooks.8 (Vita Aristotelis Vulgata 3; p. 132 Düring) (3) While Aristotle was still young he was educated in the art of rhetoric, as is clear from the Homerica commenta written by him, the text of the Iliad which he gave to Alexander, his dialogue On Poets, and his treatises On Poetics and On Rhetoric.9 (Vita Aristotelis Latina 4; pp. 151–2 Düring) Rhodes (first century BC), but that is not certain: See Moraux (1951, 289–94), Düring (1957, 208–10), Dietze-Mager (2015a) and (2015b), and Dorandi (2016, 283–4). 5 His book [i.e. ‘item’]: On problems from the difficult themes/subjects of Homer’s poetry, ten parts (Kitābuhu fī masāʾil min ʿawīs. maʿānī šiʿr ʾŪmīrus ʿašara ajzāʾ). I am grateful to Dimitri Gutas for providing me with the transliteration and translation of the Arabic. He reported to me that “the Arabic word used here for ‘problems’ (masāʾil) in the rest of the catalogue translates both ἀπορήματα and προβλήματα, so it is not possible to decide on what the translator’s Greek original had.” 6 On these three biographies, see Düring (1957, 162–3), Janko (2011, 486–7), and Dorandi (2016, 282–3). I present these passages in the order in which they appear in Düring (1957). 7 ἕως μὲν οὖν ἔτι νέος ἦν, τὴν τῶν ἐλευθέρων ἐπαιδεύετο παιδείαν, ὡς δηλοῖ τὰ γεγραμμένα αὐτῷ Ὁμηρικὰ ζητήματα καὶ ἡ τῆς Ἰλιάδος ἔκδοσις ἣν δέδωκε τῷ Ἀλεξάνδρῳ καὶ ὁ Περὶ ποιητῶν διάλογος καὶ τὸ Περὶ ποιητικῆς σύγγραμμα καὶ αἱ Ῥητορικαὶ τέχναι. 8 ὁ μὲν οὖν Ἀριστοτέλης ἔτι νέος ὢν τὴν τῶν ἐλευθέρων παιδείαν ἐπαιδεύετο, ὡς δηλοῖ τὰ γεγραμμένα αὐτῷ Περὶ ποιητικῶν καὶ Πρὸς ποιητάς, ἔτι μέντοι τὰ Ὁμήρου προβλήματα καὶ αἱ Ῥητορικαὶ τέχναι. 9 Aristotelis autem adhuc iuvenis existens doctrinam eloquentiae docebatur, ut declarant Homerica commenta scripta ab eo et Iliadis dictamen quod dedit Alexandro

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 8/12/2018, SPi

Titles of Aristotle’s Lost Work on Homer

27

These may derive from the same source, which perhaps “goes back to a Neoplatonic source who knew the flattering portrait of Aristotle in Ptolemy [al-Gharīb]’s Life” (Janko 2011, 486). But they provide no additional information about Aristotle’s lost work on Homer, aside from demonstrating how (what might have been) a single title, even coming from a single source, can generate alternatives—in this case Ὁμηρικὰ ζητήματα,10 τὰ Ὁμήρου προβλήματα, and Homerica commenta (only the second of which reflects one of the better-attested titles). None of these three sources provides details about the number of books. (C) Most of the extant evidence for the content of Aristotle’s lost work on Homer (i.e. what scholars have considered fragments) do not name any titles. There are, however, three brief exceptions (none of them biographical works, two of them clearly related to one another). (1) βασίλισσα: Alcaeus Ganymedes, Aristotle Ὁμήρου ἀπορήματα.11 (Antiatticist β 16; p. 127 Valente = fr. 179.3 Rose/ 404.3 Gigon) (2) βασίλισσαν: They say Alcaeus the comic poet and Aristotle in τὰ Ὁμήρου ἀπορήματα said [this word].12 (Phrynichus, Eclogae 231; p. 83 Fischer = fr. 179.2 Rose/404.1 Gigon) (3) Aristotle in Ἀπορήματα13 inquires how [etc.]14 (schol. Ge Il. 21.390). et dialogus De poetis et De poetica tractatus et De Rethorica. (Text and translation from Janko 2011, 410–1.) On the intriguing reference to the Iliad in (B1) and (B3), Janko writes: “the famous copy of Homer’s Iliad that Aristotle gave to Alexander is not listed in any of the catalogues of Aristotle’s works, and did not amount to an edition in any sense, but was probably simply a presentation copy that Aristotle had specifically prepared and which they read together” (2011, 486–7). See also Pfeiffer (1968, 136–8) and West (2001, 72–3). 10 Porphyry’s work on Homer apparently had the same title. 11 βασίλισσα· Ἀλκαῖος Γανυμήδει, Ἀριστοτέλης Ὁμήρου ἀπορήμασιν. Bekker in his edition (1814, 84) prints Ὁμηρικοῖς in place of Ὁμήρου, as does Gigon, but the acute accent in the abbreviation in the sole manuscript containing our text (Coislin 345, fol. 158r) settles the issue: it is Ὁμήρου. (A zoomable image is available via Gallica, Bibliothèque nationale de France here: http://gallica.bnf.fr/ark:/12148/btv1b525026958/f328.item.r=coislin% 20345.zoom.) Recall the title in Vita Aristotelis Vulgata 3 (τὰ Ὁμήρου προβλήματα), and note these two items in the list in the ‘appendix’ to Vita Hesychii: Ἀπορήματα Ἡσιόδου ἐν α´ (no. 143) and Ἀπορήματα Ἀρχιλόχου Εὐριπίδου Χοιρίλου ἐν βιβλίοις γ´ (no. 144). 12 βασίλισσαν· Ἀλκαῖόν φασι τὸν κωμῳδοποιὸν καὶ Ἀριστοτέλην ἐν τοῖς Ὁμήρου ἀπορήμασιν εἰρηκέναι. 13 I take this to be shorthand for Ἀπορήματα Ὁμηρικά or Ὁμήρου ἀπορήματα. 14 Ἀριστοτέλης ἐν Ἀπορήμασι ζητεῖ πῶς κτλ. (See Figure 9.3.)

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 8/12/2018, SPi

28

Aristotle’s Lost Homeric Problems

The anonymous Antiatticist and Phrynichus’ Eclogae15 both claim that Aristotle in a work on Homeric problems used βασίλισσα for ‘queen’ (an Attic form of the word) rather than the standard βασίλεια or βασιλίς. The value of these two texts (for my purposes) is their reference to the title of Aristotle’s work, in a context different from the evidence cited in (A) and (B) (i.e. they are lexical rather than biobibliographical works).16 Unfortunately, one cannot move safely from these claims to conclusions about the content of Aristotle’s treatise.17 The third text under (C) is taken from a Homeric scholium; the title is only partially quoted (“Aristotle in Ἀπορήματα”), likely having suffered the compression typical of scholia. But we can be fairly certain that it refers to the Homeric Problems, because Aristotle (according to this scholiast) raised a question about two passages in the Iliad that seem to contradict each other (5.888–91 and 21.388–90).18 (D) One last piece of evidence for the title of Aristotle’s work on Homer is Poetics 25, which as we have seen is devoted to Homeric epic. It begins περὶ δὲ προβλημάτων καὶ λύσεων. This incipit arguably offers mild support to Προβλήματα Ὁμηρικά as a title for Aristotle’s work on Homer. Though perhaps—and this leads us to another topic (on which more shortly)—Περὶ προβλημάτων καὶ λύσεων was the title of one of the six (or ten) books of this work.19 In any case, I think that the three texts under (C), in combination with the evidence from Diogenes Laertius and the Vita Hesychii under (A), support the view that Ἀπορήματα Ὁμηρικά is the best title for this work.20 Given the various (and overlapping) meanings of 15 On Phrynichus and the Antiatticist, see Latte (1915), Matthaios (2006a), and Valente (2015, 31–59). (C1) and (C2) are related—they are both concerned with words that some claim exist in the Attic dialect alone—and likely come from the second century AD. The precise relationship between them is unclear, but Valente takes (C1) to be prior (2015, 52). See the following note. 16 Though related to (C1) and (C2), I do not consider a fragment of the Homeric Problems Phrynichus, Eclogae 197; p. 80 Fischer=fr. 179.1 Rose/404.2 Gigon: βασίλισσα· οὐδεὶς τῶν ἀρχαίων εἶπεν, ἀλλὰ βασίλεια ἢ βασιλίς (“βασίλισσα: None of the ancients said this, but rather βασίλεια or βασιλίς”). Valente takes (C1) to be a response to this text, with (C2) being part of a response to (C1) (2015, 52–3). 17 One might speculate (nothing more) that schol. MaPYBE Od. 4.697c provides a clue as to which Homeric text Aristotle was commenting on when he used the term βασίλισσα in his Homeric Problems: “εἰ γὰρ δή, βασίλεια”: εἴθε ὦ βασίλεια/ὦ βασίλισσα. 18 See chapter 9, section 2 for a detailed discussion of this text. 19 On the connection between titles of Peripatetic works, and their incipits, see White (2002b). 20 See Pfeiffer (1968, 69 n. 3).

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 8/12/2018, SPi

Titles of Aristotle’s Lost Work on Homer

29

ἀπορήματα and προβλήματα,21 however, I think it best (especially in light of standard scholarly practice) to refer to this title in English as Homeric Problems.22 Before turning to possible (or the possibility of ) titles of individual books of the Homeric Problems, we should consider why among the evidence in (A) there are two different titles with two different numbers of books (Ἀπορήματα Ὁμηρικά in six books, Προβλήματα Ὁμηρικά in ten). All one can do is speculate. I can think of five possibilities: (1) The two titles refer to the same work, and the different number of books is simply the result of scribal error or other textual corruption or confusion. (2) Aristotle’s work on Homer originally made use of and so reflected the difference in Aristotelian inquiry between ἀπορίαι and προβλήματα, with for instance six books on Homeric ἀπορήματα and four on Homeric προβλήματα.23 Aside from the fact that some of the fragments from this work take the form of Aristotelian προβλήματα,24 there is nothing else in the surviving evidence to support such a division. (3) Aristotle’s Homeric work (in six books) became combined with other Peripatetic works on Homer (totaling ten books), and this combination was mistakenly included as a separate work (perhaps with an alternative title: Προβλήματα Ὁμηρικά rather than Ἀπορήματα Ὁμηρικά, or vice versa).25 (4) Aristotle’s work on Homeric problems was called Ἀπορήματα Ὁμηρικά and consisted of six books. This work was combined with his other ἀπορήματα on specific authors, which together yield ten books: six books on Homer, three on Archilochus, Euripides, and Choerilus, and one on Hesiod. (See the list in the so-called appendix Hesychiana below.) The entire set was then mistakenly called Προβλήματα Ὁμηρικά (perhaps by the compiler of this list).26 (5) Aristotle’s work was ten books 21 Recall from chapter 1, note 26, the basic meanings of πρόβλημα (hindrance, obstacle, problem, difficulty) and ἀπόρημα (problem, puzzle, difficulty). 22 See my preface, note 1. 23 I owe this point to Monte Johnson. On προβλήματα in the context of Aristotelian inquiry, see Lennox (2015). On ἀπορίαι, see e.g. Arist. Metaph. B.1.995a24–b4 and Top. 6.6.145a33–b20. 24 E.g. schol. B* Il. 3.277 (= fr. 149 Rose/373 Gigon), which begins with a question in the form of an Aristotelian problêma (see below, p. 31). 25 Cf. Rose (1863, 148–9). Demetrius, Dicaearchus, Chamaeleon, and Praxiphanes were all philosophers from the early Peripatos (mid-fourth to early third centuries BC) who wrote works on Homer. 26 This possibility was suggested to me by one of the anonymous reviewers for the press.

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 8/12/2018, SPi

30

Aristotle’s Lost Homeric Problems

long (with one of these two titles), consisting of six books on general problems, with four other books appended to it on specialized topics, perhaps each with its own separate title.27

2.2. POSSIBLE SUBTITLES I turn now to the possibility of (some) individual books or sets of books in the Homeric Problems having had their own separate titles.28 As noted, one possibility is Περὶ προβλημάτων καὶ λύσεων (from Poetics 25).29 Another is suggested by the list in the Vita Hesychii: Coming between items 106 (Ἀπορημάτων Ὁμηρικῶν ς´) and 108 (Ποιητικὸν α´) is Ἀπορημάτων θείων α´ (Divine Problems or Problems concerning Gods).30 Rose, in both his second (1870, 1467) and third (1886, 15) collections of fragments, suggests that θείων might be a mistake for Ἡσιοδείων. (See below, item no. 143 in the appendix Hesychiana: Ἀπορημάτων Ἡσίοδου ἐν α´.) Moraux (1951, 196) agrees with him. But I think there is another explanation for why what would otherwise seem to be the title of a philosophical-theological work appears between two literary titles: Perhaps (this is of course speculation, as were the suggestions of Rose and Moraux) Aristotle gathered into one book a special set of Homeric problems (or poetical problems more broadly) pertaining to the gods—not simply as incidental characters in the epics, but concerning their divine nature and related issues. 27 See Meeusen (2016b) for a discussion of the possible relationship between two different titles assigned to the Problemata physica in the corpus Aristotelicum. 28 The Problemata physica consists of thirty-eight books, each with a separate title. Perhaps more apt in the present context are Simplicius’ (sixth century AD) reports (1) that the first five books of Aristotle’s Physics were sometimes called Physics (Φυσικά) and the final three books On Motion or Change (Περὶ κινήσεως) (e.g. in Phys. 6, proem, CAG vol. 10, p. 923.7–8 Diels), and (2) that the first four books of the Physics were sometimes called On Principles (Περὶ ἀρχῶν) and the final four books On Motion or Change (e.g. in Cael. 274a19, CAG vol. 7, p. 226.19–23 Heiberg). 29 Cf. Λύσεις τῶν Ὁμηρικῶν προβλημάτων, which Proclus tells us was the title of a work by his teacher, i.e. Syrianus (in Rep. Essay 6, Book 1; 1:95.31 Kroll). 30 This item is missing from Diogenes Laertius, the other two following one after the other (5.26; 373–4 Dorandi). For the latter, Dorandi’s apparatus indicates that the manuscripts have Ποιητικὰ (BP) or Ποιητικὸν (F); he prints the former. Rose (1886, 7), in his presentation of the list of Diogenes, prints Ποιητικ⟨ῶν⟩ and in his apparatus writes Ποιητικῶν (sc. ἀπορημάτων). Bernays (1863, 8) suggested ⟨Ἀπορήματα⟩ ποιητικὰ. (I owe this last reference to Dorandi (2013, 361).)

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 8/12/2018, SPi

Titles of Aristotle’s Lost Work on Homer

31

Here are a couple of examples of what I have in mind, from the Homeric scholia (quoting in each case the opening question only): Why, having said that the Sun beholds all things and hears all things, did [Homer] portray him needing a messenger in the case of his own cattle?31 (schol. B* Il. 3.277 = fr. 149 Rose/373 Gigon) Why did Odysseus not accept when Calypso offered him immortality?32 (schol. V Od. 23.337 = fr. 178 Rose/401 Gigon)

Note that these are both in the form of Aristotelian problêmata.33 The aforementioned appendix Hesychiana begins with the following eight items: 140: 141: 142: 143: 144: 145: 146: 147:

Περὶ τῶν Σόλωνος ἀξόνων ε´ (On the Law-Tablets of Solon, five books) Περὶ μακαριότητος (On Blessedness) Τί δήποτε Ὅμηρος ἐποίησεν τὰς Ἡλίου βοῦς (Why Ever Did Homer Create/Portray the Cattle of the Sun) Ἀπορήματα Ἡσιόδου ἐν α´ (Problems of Hesiod in one book) Ἀπορήματα Ἀρχιλόχου Εὐριπίδου Χοιρίλου ἐν βιβλίοις γ´ (Problems of Archilochus, Euripides, and Choerilus, three books) Ἀπορημάτων ποιητικῶν α´ (Poetic Problems, one book) Αἰτίας ποιητικάς (Poetic Causes/Explanations) Προβλημάτων Ὁμηρικῶν ι´ (Homeric Problems, ten books)

The first item may indicate that the entire list concerns past authors (and moreover, Solon was a poet). Moraux argues that the second item is either a corruption of the extant Περὶ μακροβιότητος καὶ βραχυβιότητος (one of the works in the Parva Naturalia), or a gloss on item 142, mistakenly absorbed into the list—which item, he claims, “représente l’un des célèbre Problèmes homériques” (1951, 151–2). Regarding 141: I find Moraux’s first suggestion implausible, and his 31 διὰ τί τὸν ἥλιον πάντα ἐφορᾶν καὶ πάντα ἐπακούειν εἰπών, ἐπὶ τῶν ἑαυτοῦ βοῶν ἀγγέλου δεόμενον ἐποίησεν; After quoting Od. 12.374, the scholiast continues: “Aristotle, solving [this problem], says” etc. (λύων δ’ Ἀριστοτέλης φησίν κτλ.). Alternatively, this may also have appeared in a separate book on the Cattle of the Sun (more on which below). Schol. B* Il. 3.277 is discussed in greater detail in chapter 10, section 3.2. 32 διὰ τί Ὀδυσσεὺς τῆς Καλυψοῦς διδούσης αὐτῷ τὴν ἀθανασίαν οὐκ ἐδέξατο; The scholiast continues: “Now Aristotle says” etc. (Ἀριστοτέλης μὲν οὖν . . . φησι κτλ.). 33 The Problemata physica contains over 900 chapters; 98 percent of them begin διὰ τί . . . On Peripatetic Problemata literature, with some comments on Homeric problems in that context, see Menn (2015).

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 8/12/2018, SPi

32

Aristotle’s Lost Homeric Problems

second unlikely (as the Cattle of the Sun, in the context of the Odyssey, are associated with misery rather than with blessedness). If Περὶ μακαριότητος is in fact the title of a literary work, perhaps its subject was the Isle(s) of the Blessed:34 see e.g. Hesiod, Op. 171 (μακάρων νήσοισι) and Pindar, Ol. 2.70–1 (μακάρων νᾶσος).35 As for 142, Moraux is right that it refers to Homer and specifically to the Cattle of the Sun (which are central to Odyssey 12). It is enough here to recall that Circe tells Odysseus that the Sun god (Helios) has seven herds, with fifty head of cattle each. (Odysseus’ companions would later kill some of them, with disastrous consequences.) There is a relevant Aristotelian text (which I discuss in chapter 10, section 3.1):36 “seven herds of cattle”: Aristotle in the manner of a natural scientist37 claims this means the lunar days are 350. For the number fifty multiplied seven times you will discover turns into three hundred and fifty.38 (schol. V Od. 12.129 = fr. 175.2 Rose/398.1 Gigon)

Janko (2011, 328 n. 4) asks whether the title Τί δήποτε Ὅμηρος ἐποίησεν τὰς Ἡλίου βοῦς might refer to one of the books of the Homeric Problems. I regard this as a perfectly legitimate question. There is of course no reason to think that items 143–6 are (all) titles of separate books of the Homeric Problems, though the close proximity of 142 to 143–7 supports the view that it belongs among Aristotle’s writings on literary ἀπορήματα. Another possibility is On Mythological Animals. Diogenes Laertius 5.25 (361 Dorandi) and the Vita Hesychii (no. 95) include a work in one book called Περὶ τῶν μυθολογουμένων ζῴ ων.39 I suppose it is just possible that this was a specialized book in the Homeric Problems, and that it was the source of (inter alia) the text mentioned in the previous chapter, which begins: “Aristotle inquires how the Cyclops Polyphemus was himself born a Cyclops, when he was neither [the son] of a Cyclops father . . . nor [the son] of a [Cyclops] mother.”40 Now one could argue that this is especially speculative, because in the

34

I owe this suggestion to Stephen Menn. Perhaps then Περὶ μακαριότητος is a corruption of Περὶ μακάρων νήσου vel sim. 36 There are in fact three such fragments, only one of which I present here. 37 On the meaning of φυσικῶς in this context, see chapter 10, section 2 (pp. 177–9). 38 “ἑπτὰ βοῶν ἀγέλαι”: Ἀριστοτέλης φυσικῶς τὰς κατὰ σελήνην ἡμέρας αὐτὸν λέγειν φησὶ τν’ οὔσας. τὸν γὰρ πεντήκοντα ἀριθμὸν ἑπταπλασιάσας εἰς τὸν τριακοστὸν πεντηκοστὸν περιεστάναι εὑρήσεις. 39 Ὑπὲρ for Περὶ in the list in Diogenes Laertius. 40 I owe this suggestion to the late Allan Gotthelf. 35

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 8/12/2018, SPi

Titles of Aristotle’s Lost Work on Homer

33

two lists in which this title appears it is surrounded by biological and botanical, not literary, works.41 One should nevertheless wonder what Aristotle would say—in connection with his study of living things— about mythological animals, whereas he would have reason to discuss that subject in a work on Homer.42 Finally, and perhaps related to On Mythological Animals (or an alternative to it): given the amount of attention that I argue (in what follows) Aristotle gave to the animals that appear in the Homeric epics, I think it quite possible that there was a book in his Homeric Problems devoted to animals, perhaps with the title Περὶ ζῴων (On Animals).43 * * * Steven White (2002b, 10), in an essay on the titles of Theophrastus’ works, warns that “we should be wary of two anachronistic assumptions”: that the titles originated with Theophrastus, and that any of these works had a single standard title. I think the same warning likely applies in the case of Aristotle’s works. Ἀπορήματα Ὁμηρικά and Προβλήματα Ὁμηρικά may both have been in circulation in the Lyceum, and it may be that neither was the title that Aristotle gave to the work. In any case, as I stated in my preface, I proceed on the assumption that Aristotle wrote one work, in at least six books, presenting and solving problems related to the epics of Homer. For the reasons provided, I refer to this work as the Homeric Problems.44 41

See Diogenes Laertius 5.25 (357–65 Dorandi) and Vita Hesychii nos. 90–8. If this was a scientific work, rather than a literary one, it likely discussed the fossils thought by ancients to be remains of mythological creatures: see Mayor (2000). That this work is lost would explain Aristotle’s surprising silence on these fossils (Mayor 2000, 220). 43 This despite the fact that most if not all of the references by ancient Homeric scholars to Aristotle’s Περὶ ζῴων refer to the History of Animals. See e.g. schol. A Il. 11.481a (cf. HA 8(9).1.610a13–14), schol. T Il. 18.318–19 (cf. HA 6.31.579a33–b1), and schol. T Il. 20.166b (cf. HA 8(9).44.629b10–14). There are also many instances of scholiasts referring to the History of Animals without citing a title: e.g. schol. T Il. 2.460 (cf. HA 1.488a3–4), schol. T Il. 11.113 (cf. HA 6.29.578b15–16), schol. bT Il. 13.705 (cf. HA 7(8).7.595b13–15), and schol. T Il. 21.493c2 (cf. HA 5.13.544a33–b5). There was very likely a work by Aristotle, no longer extant, with the title Ζωϊκά or Περὶ ζωϊκῶν: see frs. 279–372 Rose/180–294 Gigon, as well as Sharples (1995, 32–8), Berger (2012), and Mayhew (forthcoming). But I know of no compelling case in which such a work is cited by ancient Homeric scholars (contrary to the claims of the compilers of Aristotle’s fragments). For two cases in which I think these compilers are wrong, see Mayhew (2017b), on the black eagle of Il. 21.252, and Mayhew (2017c), on the σκῶπες of Od. 5.66. 44 Many thanks to Tiziano Dorandi, Richard Janko, Monte Johnson, Stephen Menn, and Michiel Meeusen for comments that improved this chapter. 42

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 8/12/2018, SPi

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 11/12/2018, SPi

3 A Reappraisal of Heitz Scholars who work on the Homeric Problems tend to rely on the fragments collected and attributed to this work by Rose and Gigon. But it is a mistake to limit oneself in this way and ignore other sources. One point of the present volume is to demonstrate that however valuable the work of these two, it is necessary to look elsewhere for sources of information about the Homeric Problems. One modern source too often ignored is Heitz (1869), a collection of fragments that appeared not long after Rose’s first collection (1863) but before his second (1870) and third (1886)—which were eventually held to supersede it. To support my contention that Heitz has been neglected, and should be reassessed, I here examine two fragments in his collection of Aristotle fragments, which he attributes to the Homeric Problems but which are not included in Rose or Gigon.

3.1. THE ἈΧΕΡΩΙ΅ Σ (HEITZ FR. 188) My interest in this section is a verse that appears twice in the Iliad and includes the noun ἀχερωΐς (the second tree mentioned). In Il. 13.389–90 the death of Asios (killed by Idomeneus), and in Il. 16.482–3 the death of Sarpedon (killed by Patroclus), are described in part as follows: “And he fell as when some oak falls or an acherôïs | or a tall pine” (ἤριπε δ’ ὡς ὅτε τις δρῦς ἤριπεν ἢ ἀχερωῒς | ἠὲ πίτυς βλωθρή).1 1 In addition to ἀχερωΐς, the tree names that receive the most attention in what follows are λεύκη and αἴγειρος. LSJ s.v.v. ἀχερωΐς (“white poplar, Populus alba,

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 11/12/2018, SPi

36

Aristotle’s Lost Homeric Problems

There was interest among ancient Homeric scholars in the identity of this second tree, as the following scholia and Eustathius passage make clear: acherôïs: A tree, which is called white poplar. But some say it is a kind of wild oak.2 (schol. D Il. 16.482)3 acherôïs: The white poplar; for Heracles brought this up from Acheron. But some [say it is] the black poplar and so write achelôïs, since [Homer] says “of water-nourished black poplars” [Od. 17.208].4 (schol. T Il. 13.389)5 But others6 write achelôïs instead of acherôïs, as one might say “waternourished,” since Achelous is said of any water, as will in fact be explained in what follows.7 And they think, as they themselves prefer, that achelôïs is the black poplar, as it rejoices in water.8 (Eust. Il. 13.389 (3.491.21–4))

elsewh. λεύκη”); λεύκη (“II. white poplar, Populus alba”); αἴγειρος (“black poplar, Populus nigra”). BDAG has essentially the same, though it provides separate entries for ἀχερωΐς (“white poplar”) and Ἀχερωΐς (“of Acheron”). For a more detailed (and different) account of the identities of ἀχερωΐς and αἴγειρος—with surveys of the views of earlier scholars—see Levý (1961, 81–3). Here and in what follows, I use the standard English translations for λεύκη and αἴγειρος, but transliterate ἀχερωΐς. 2 ἀχερωΐς: δένδρον, ὃ καλεῖται λεύκη. ἔνιοι δὲ φηγοῦ εἶδος εἶπον αὐτήν. 3 Cf. schol. A Il. 16.482. Note LSJ s.v. φηγός: “= δρῦς ἀγρία” (i.e. ‘wild oak’); BDAG s.v.: ‘oak’. For a detailed (and different) account of the meanings of δρῦς and φηγός, see Levý (1961, 83–6). 4 ἀχερωΐς: ἡ λεύκη· ταύτην γὰρ ἀνήγαγεν Ἡρακλῆς ἐξ Ἀχέροντος. οἱ δὲ τὴν αἴγειρον καὶ ἀχελωΐς γράφουσιν, ἐπεί φησιν “αἰγείρων ὑδατοτρεφέων.” 5 Cf. schol. A Il. 13.389, schol. Ge Il. 13.389, and schol. D Il. 13.389. 6 This alternative view is presented in contrast to what seems to be the standard view, namely, that ἀχερωΐς refers to the white poplar. Eustathius’ account of it begins: Ἀχερωΐδα δὲ τὴν λεύκην καλεῖ ὡς ἀπὸ τοῦ Ἀχέρων, ὃς ἦν ἐν Ἅιδου ποταμὸς κατὰ τὸν καὶ ἐν Ὀδυσσείᾳ κείμενον μῦθον (“He [sc. Homer] calls the white poplar acherôïs, as it comes from the Acheron, which was a river in Hades according to the story found also in the Odyssey”). For similar presentations of the view that ἀχερωΐς refers to the white poplar, see Pausanius 5.14.2 and Harpocration λ 11 λεύκη. 7 A few lines later, Eustathius alludes to Od. 17.208, writing αἰγείρους ὑδατοτρεφέας. But he may in fact have in mind his discussion of Il. 21.194 (4.483.22–484.5), where he distinguishes Ἀχελώϊος and Ἀχελῷος—the latter a product of σύγκρισις for metrical reasons—and reminds the reader that this can refer to any number of rivers (ὁποῖοι πολλοὶ ποταμοί, ὁ Ἰνδός, ὁ Ἴστρος, ὁ Νεῖλος). 8 ἕτεροι δὲ ἀντὶ τοῦ ἀχερωΐς ἀχελωΐς γράφουσιν, ὡς ἄν τις εἴποι ὑδατοτρεφής, ὡς Ἀχελῴου λεγομένου παντὸς ὕδατος, καθὰ καὶ ἐν τοῖς ἑξῆς που ῥηθήσεται. καὶ νοοῦσιν, ὡς αὐτοὶ βούλονται, ἀχελωΐδα τὴν αἴγειρον ὡς ὕδασι χαίρουσαν.

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 11/12/2018, SPi

A Reappraisal of Heitz

37

Achelous is indeed the name of several rivers, and (well before Aristotle) it came to be used for any river (and in fact all water or bodies of water).9 So, some Homeric scholars held that the word ἀχερωΐς in Homer refers to the white poplar (ἡ λεύκη)—that would seem to be the standard view10—and some that it refers to the wild oak. Others, however, take ἀχερωΐς in these verses to be a mistake, maintaining that the text should instead read ἀχελωΐς—a change of one letter— and that ἀχελωΐς is another name for the black poplar (ἡ αἴγειρος).11 I expect changes or differences in terminology over time and/or from one location to another—e.g. between mainland Greece in the archaic period and Alexandria in the second century BC (or AD)—may have fueled some of the confusion and debate. This is the context in which to evaluate the Aristotle reference in Etymologicum genuinum A 1507.12 This entry presents much that is contained in the above texts (without referring to Homer, though its

9 See e.g. the Derveni papyrus col. XXIII, 1. 12: τῶ[ι] ὕδα[τι] ὅ̣λ̣[ως τίθη]σ̣ι Ἀχελῶιον ὄνομ̣[α (Kouremenos et al. 2006): “He [sc. Orpheus] applied the name Achelôïs to water generally.” (My thanks to Ioanna Papadopoulou for bringing this passage to my attention.) Janko’s interpretation is similar (2002, 46–7), but cf. Betegh (2004, 48–9 and 215–16). Sider (2014, 248), discussing the Orphic verse on which l. 12 is a comment, writes: “There are several fifth-century passages where ‘Acheloius’ is used for water in general: Euripides Andromache 167, Bacchae 625, Hypsipyle fr. 753, fr. 365; Sophocles Athamas fr. 5; Achaeus Aithon 20 F 9 TrGF; Aristophanes Lysistrata 381 (water in a bucket, an inappropriate and hence intentionally pompous example).” See also D’Alessio (2004) and LfgE s.v. Ἀχερωΐς. 10 Cf. Janko (1992, 97): “The ἀχερωΐς is the white poplar, later λεύκη.” 11 Levý (1961, 81–2) argues that before Aristophanes—who he claims was the first to call the white poplar λεύκη—αἴγειρος was the name for both poplars, and ἀχερωΐς was the name for the aspen. Aristotle’s student Theophrastus often treats αἴγειρος and λεύκη together, as similar trees (see e.g. CP 1.1.4, 1.3.5, and (quoted below, in note 14) HP 4.1.1), and in a couple of places he even claims (or reports the opinion) that the white poplar can become the black poplar: ἔνιαι δὲ δοκοῦσιν ὅλων τῶν δένδρων καὶ φυτῶν αὐτόματαί τινες εἶναι μεταβολαὶ καθάπερ τὴν λεύκην ἐξαιγειροῦσθαί φασι καὶ φύλλοις καὶ τῇ ὅλῃ προσόψει (“Some mutations of the entire tree or plant are thought to be spontaneous, just as, some claim, the white poplar becomes a black poplar, both in leaves and in its whole appearance” (CP 2.16.2; cf. 5.7.2)). 12 Heitz (1869) did not have access to an edition of the Etymologicum genuinum (ninth century). Its entry on Ἀχερωΐς, however, is virtually identical to the one in Etymologicum magnum (twelfth century), which Heitz used (180.49–57=fr. 188 Heitz), and the line referring to Aristotle is identical. (The Gaisford edition of Etymologicum magnum prints—mistakenly, in my view—the noun ἀχερουσία in place of the adjective ἀχερούσια, but Heitz corrects this.) For brief accounts of the nature of, and relationship between, these and other etymological works, see Baldi (2014) and Tosi (2015, 633–4). (Heitz also discussed this fragment in an earlier work (1865, 261–2).)

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 11/12/2018, SPi

38

Aristotle’s Lost Homeric Problems

sources must include Homeric scholarship)—taking ἀχερωΐς to refer to the white poplar, which Heracles brought up from the Acheron River13—and then it adds: But Aristotle says it is the black poplar, because he calls Acherousian all marshy plants. Ἀριστοτέλης δὲ τὴν αἴγειρον λέγει, ὅτι πάντα τὰ ἑλώδη (fort. Heitz : mss. ὑλώδη) φυτὰ ἀχερούσια λέγει.14

Given the distance between Etymologicum genuinum and its sources, it is of course possible that the entry on ἀχερωΐς contains corruptions and other errors. But without evidence of specific corruption that would lead one to conclude that this did not have its origins in something Aristotle wrote, I proceed on the assumption that he did have something to say about the identity of this tree in Il. 13.389–90 and 16.482–3 (and that the most likely place for him to have said it is the Homeric Problems). According to this text, Aristotle claimed that Homer is referring to the black poplar, not the white poplar (or any other tree). But what else might Aristotle have held? Based on the available evidence (beginning with the texts quoted earlier), I can think of only one plausible interpretation: According to Aristotle, these verses have ἀχερωΐς, but (contrary to what others think) this in fact refers to the black poplar; and this interpretation is possible because any tree or plant found near water is Acherousian, the black poplar being one such tree. So where some ancient scholars saw the issue being whether the text had ἀχερωΐς, which refers to the white poplar, or ἀχελωΐς, which refers to the black poplar, Aristotle rejected both: ἀχερωΐς is correct (emendation is unnecessary), but it refers to the black poplar. 13 Here is the entry, minus the last line (the one that mentions Aristotle): Ἀχερωΐς· ἡ λεύκη τὸ δένδρον· εἴρηται παρὰ τὸν Ἀχέροντα ποταμόν· φασὶ γὰρ τὸν Ἡρακλέα ἐπὶ τὸν Κέρβερον κατελθόντα καὶ παρὰ τῷ Ἀχέροντι πεφυκὸς τὸ δένδρον ἑωρακότα ἡσθῆναι ἐπ’ αὐτῷ καὶ ἀνενεγκεῖν· καὶ παρὰ τὸν Ἀχέροντα ἀχερωΐδα καλέσαι, ἵν’ ᾖ ἀχεροντίς καὶ κατὰ συγκοπὴν καὶ ἐκτάσει τοῦ ο εἰς ω ἀχερωΐς. 14 Heitz (1869, 140) thinks that ὑλώδη could be a mistake for ἑλώδη. For support he cites Hesychius α 8845: ἀχερούσια· ὕδατα ἑλώδη (adding that ὕδατα here should perhaps be corrected to φυτά). I accept his emendation. The following passage from Aristotle’s student Theophrastus provides further support (HP 4.1.1): τὰ μὲν γὰρ φιλεῖ τοὺς ἐφύδρους καὶ ἑλώδεις, οἷον αἴγειρος λεύκη ἰτέα καὶ ὅλως τὰ παρὰ τοὺς ποταμοὺς φυόμενα (“Some [sc. trees] love watery and marshy [ground], for instance, black poplar, white poplar, willow, and in general those that grow beside rivers”). In any case, note that ὑλώδη has a secondary meaning of ‘turbid’ or ‘muddy’ (LSJ and BDAG s.v. ὑλώδης).

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 11/12/2018, SPi

A Reappraisal of Heitz

39

But what kind of Homeric problem was Aristotle attempting to solve? And why would he have claimed that Homer in these two Iliad passages was referring to the black poplar (αἴγειρος) and not—as many thought—to the white poplar (λεύκη)? Unfortunately, the answers to these questions are not to be found in Etymologicum genuinum A 1507, and so all one can do is speculate further. Perhaps the Homeric problem was an apparent contradiction generated by an ambiguous word or by someone’s false assumption about the meaning of a word:15 Why does Homer use ἀχερωΐς to refer to the λεύκη? He does not, Aristotle would reply; rather, the ἀχερωΐς refers to the αἴγειρος. But I think it is also possible (though less likely) that Aristotle was simply discussing the identity of a mysterious tree (even though this does not seem to fall under any of the kinds of problem mentioned in Poetics 25). Compare for instance schol. B* Il. 9.265 (= Porph. HQI (pp. 150–1 MacPhail)): “What does ‘twenty shining cauldrons’ mean, and are they the same as the unfired ones, when [Homer] says ‘unfired cauldrons’ [Il. 23.267, Od. 3.440]?”16 This is not an Aristotle fragment; i.e. Porphyry does not report Aristotle answering this question. But I think it is possible that in one section of his Homeric Problems (perhaps on animals, or living things more broadly)17 he raised and answered this kind of question: What does ἀχερωΐς mean, and is it the same as the αἴγειρος (or λεύκη or φηγός)? In either case, if I am on the right track it would explain some of the passages on animals discussed in chapter 4.18 Next, why would Aristotle have claimed that Homer in these two passages was referring to the αἴγειρος? I doubt he argued that Homer meant by ἀχερωΐς the αἴγειρος because the αἴγειρος is aquatic whereas the λεύκη is not. Note that the αἴγειρος and λεύκη are both among the examples Theophrastus gives of water-loving (φιλύδρων) trees (CP 1.1.4).19 So perhaps Aristotle came to this conclusion based 15 So either solution no. 11ʹ or 12 (as I have labeled them). See Poet. 25.1461a31–b9, discussed in chapter 1, section 2 (pp. 20–2). 16 τί βούλεται τὸ “αἴθωνας δὲ λέβητας ἐείκοσι”, καὶ εἰ οἱ αὐτοὶ τοῖς ἀπύροις ὅταν εἴπῃ “ἄπυρον λέβητα”. 17 See chapter 2, section 2 (p. 33). 18 For instance, see chapter 4, section 1.8 (pp. 66–8), for a discussion of the identity of the eagle in Iliad 24.315–16. Further, see Mayhew (2017a) on the identity of the snake referred to in Iliad 2.723; (2017b) on the eagle in Iliad 21.252; and (2017c) on one of the birds in Odyssey 5.66. 19 . . . καὶ τῶν ἀκάρπων δὲ καὶ φιλύδρων ὥσπερ ἰτέα καὶ ἀκτῆ καὶ λεύκη καὶ αἴγειρος. (Again, cf. HP 4.1.1, quoted in note 14.) Aristotle’s own works do not help

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 11/12/2018, SPi

40

Aristotle’s Lost Homeric Problems

on a supposed etymological connection between ἀχερωΐς and αἴγειρος.20 Or perhaps he did so based on something in the Homeric epics themselves. One passage he could cite as support is the description of the black poplar quoted or alluded to in the T scholium and Eustathius: “water-nourished” (Od. 17.208). Another, which I have not seen a reference to in this connection, may be a relevant passage in Iliad 4, where the death of Simoeisios is described in part as follows (482–3): . . . And he fell to the ground, in the dirt, like a black poplar, Which grows in the low-lying land around a great marsh.21

This is especially plausible if ἑλώδη is the correct reading in our Etymologicum genuinum passage, as ἕλεος and ἑλώδη are related.22 In any case, although we cannot say with certainty that the entry on ἀχερωΐς in Etymologicum genuinum (A 1507) is a source-text for Aristotle’s Homeric Problems, it does in my view rise above mere possibility and may very well be so. Therefore, I think Heitz was right and it ought to be included in any collection of Aristotle’s fragments.23

3.2. ODYSSEUS’ SCAR (HEITZ FR. 208) In Poetics 11, Aristotle discusses what he calls (toward the end of the chapter) the “parts of the plot” (τοῦ μύθου μέρη, 1452b9): reversal, recognition, and suffering. Much of the chapter (1452a29–b8) is devoted to recognition (ἀναγνώρισις), which he defines as follows: “Recognition, as indeed the name signifies, is a change from ignorance in the interpretation of this text: ἀχερωΐς never appears in his extant works, and αἴγειρος appears only once (GA 1.18.726a7), shedding no light on the present issue. 20 This suggestion was made by one of the anonymous referees for the press. Now when I first encountered the texts discussed in this section, I had assumed that ἀχερωΐς and αἴγειρος were etymologically related. But I am not an expert on etymology (ancient Greek or otherwise), and judging at least by the relevant entries in Frisk (1960) and Beekes (2010), they are not so related. Of course, this need not mean Aristotle saw no connection. 21

. . . ὃ δ’ ἐν κονίῃσι χαμαὶ πέσεν αἴγειρος ὣς, ἥ ῥά τ’ ἐν εἱαμενῇ ἕλεος μεγάλοιο πεφύκηι.

See Beekes (2010, 1:415) s.v. ἕλος. I presented an early version of this material on the ἀχερωΐς at an informal workshop at Harvard University’s Center for Hellenic Studies (Washington DC, March 2017). I am grateful for the feedback I received on that occasion. 22 23

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 11/12/2018, SPi

A Reappraisal of Heitz

41

to knowledge, [and so] either to friendship or to enmity, among those who have been defined in relation to good fortune or bad fortune” (1452a29–32).24 Homer is not mentioned in this chapter. Poetics 16 is devoted to the description and evaluation of the kinds of recognition, and here Homer (and particularly Odysseus and the Odyssey) are featured. Aristotle presents six kinds of recognition: 1. Recognition by signs (ἡ [sc. ἀναγνώρισις] διὰ τῶν σημείων) (1454b20–30). This is further divided, based on the kinds of signs: a. congenital (e.g. a birthmark) b. acquired i. on the body (e.g. a scar) ii. external (e.g. a necklace) 2. Recognitions invented by the poet (αἱ πεποιημέναι ὑπὸ τοῦ ποιητοῦ), which do not grow out of the plot (1454b30–7) 3. Recognition by means of memory (ἡ διὰ μνήμης) (1454b37– 1455a4) 4. Recognition by means of inference (1455a4–12) 5. Recognition by false inference on the part of the audience (1455a12–16)25 6. Recognition that comes from the incidents itself (1455a16–20). Aristotle says that the first kind is the least skillful (ἀτεχνοτάτη); nevertheless, the use of this type can be better or worse. The sixth he says is the best type, and the fourth second best. I am interested in recognition by acquired signs on the body (1.b.i), which, though among the least skillful type, Aristotle says can be used in a better or worse way: But it is possible to use even these [i.e. recognitions by a sign] in a better or worse way, e.g. Odysseus was recognized through his scar in one 24 ἀναγνώρισις δέ, ὥσπερ καὶ τοὔνομα σημαίνει, ἐξ ἀγνοίας εἰς γνῶσιν μεταβολή, ἢ εἰς φιλίαν ἢ εἰς ἔχθραν, τῶν πρὸς εὐτυχίαν ἢ δυστυχίαν ὡρισμένων. He adds that recognition is finest (καλλίστη) when it comes about with reversal (περιπετείᾳ), e.g. “the one in the Oedipus” (1452a32–3)—presumably, the reversal of fortune that follows Oedipus’ recognition of who he and Jocasta are. And at the end of the chapter Aristotle mentions (without evaluation) double recognition (i.e. “the recognition of both persons”), referring to Orestes and Iphigeneia recognizing each other, presumably in Euripides’ Iphigeneia in Taurus (1452b5–8). 25 This special composite type is discussed more fully in Poetics 24 (1460a18–26), and quoted below (pp. 43–4).

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 11/12/2018, SPi

42

Aristotle’s Lost Homeric Problems

way by the nurse and in another way by the swineherds [sic]:26 for [recognitions] for the sake of persuasion, and all similar ones, are less skillful; but the [recognitions] that come out of a reversal, such as in the Bath scene, are better.27 (16.1454b25–30)

There were in fact three recognition scenes in the Odyssey involving Odysseus’ scar: (1) he is recognized by his nurse in the so-called Bath scene (19.390–4 and 467–8), which is a better use of this type of recognition, Aristotle says, as it involves a reversal; (2) he is later recognized by Eumaios the swineherd and Philoitios the cowherd (21.217–21); and (3) he is even later recognized by his father, Laertes (24.327–35).28 The second (which Aristotle mentions in Poetics 16) and the third (which he does not) are examples of the worse type: for the sake of persuasion. In Od. 21, Odysseus says to the two herdsmen: “Come now, and I will show you another manifest sign, that you two may know me well and be persuaded in your heart: the scar, which once a boar with his white tusk had inflicted on me, when I had gone to Parnassus with the sons of Autolycus.” So saying he pulled the rags away from the great scar.29 (217–21)

In Od. 24, Laertes asks his son: If indeed you are Odysseus, my son, returned, indicate to me now some manifest sign, so that I will be persuaded.30 (328–9)

26

Eumaios is a swineherd, Philoitios a cowherd (see Od. 21.217–21). ἔστιν δὲ καὶ τούτοις χρῆσθαι ἢ βέλτιον ἢ χεῖρον, οἷον Ὀδυσσεὺς διὰ τῆς οὐλῆς ἄλλως ἀνεγνωρίσθη ὑπὸ τῆς τροφοῦ καὶ ἄλλως ὑπὸ τῶν συβοτῶν· εἰσὶ γὰρ αἱ μὲν πίστεως ἕνεκα ἀτεχνότεραι, καὶ αἱ τοιαῦται πᾶσαι, αἱ δὲ ἐκ περιπετείας, ὥσπερ ἡ ἐν τοῖς Νίπτροις, βελτίους. 28 In Od. 23, the Nurse tells Penelope that she recognized Odysseus (69–84). 27

29

εἰ δ’ ἄγε δὴ καὶ σῆμα ἀριφραδὲς ἄλλο τι δείξω, ὄφρα μ’ ἐὺ γνῶτον πιστωθῆτόν τ’ ἐνὶ θυμῷ, οὐλήν, τήν ποτέ με σῦς ἤλασε λευκῷ ὀδόντι Παρνησόνδ’ ἐλθόντα σὺν υἱάσιν Αὐτολύκοιο. ὣς εἰπὼν ῥάκεα μεγάλης ἀποέργαθεν οὐλῆς. 30

εἰ μὲν δὴ Ὀδυσεύς γε, ἐμὸς πάις, εἰλήλουθας, σῆμά τί μοι νῦν εἰπὲ ἀριφραδές, ὄφρα πεποίθω.

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 11/12/2018, SPi

A Reappraisal of Heitz

43

And Odysseus complies: “First, observe with your eyes the scar here”31 (331). Based solely on the above alone, I think we can conclude that Aristotle may well have discussed these recognition scenes in his Homeric Problems, and in fact been critical of Homer in the two passages just quoted, as these are instances of the worse type of recognition: for the sake of persuasion.32 I want to pursue further, however, the idea that Aristotle may have been especially critical of Od. 21.217–21. This idea gets some support from a (largely neglected) passage in Eustathius, which I think should be considered as a possible fragment from the Homeric Problems—as Heitz (fr. 208) thought it was.33 Eustathius, after discussing the Bath scene, adds: And from it [sc. the scar] he was also recognized later by Eumaios and by Philoitios. But Aristotle, they say, attacked such recognition, explaining that according to the poet, by such reasoning everyone having a scar is Odysseus.34 (Od. 19.472 (2.213.29–31))

I can think of three explanations for this passage: First, Eustathius or his source is simply embellishing (a paraphrase of) Poetics 16.1454b25–30 (quoted above). Second, he is trying to apply Aristotle’s discussion of Homer and false inference (in Poetics 24) to this scar-recognition scene.35 Here is the relevant passage (Poet. 24.1460a18–26): Homer above all has taught the others [sc. poets] to say what is false as one ought to. This is a logical fallacy. For whenever this [A] exists, this [B] exists, or [A] comes to be, [B] comes to be, people think that if the latter [B] exists, then the former [A] exists or comes to be as well; but this is a false. This is why, if the first [A] is false, but when it [A] exists then something else [B] necessarily exists or comes to be, then [the poet] ought to add it [B]. For through knowing that this [B] is true, our οὐλὴν μὲν πρῶτον τήνδε φράσαι ὀφθαλμοῖσι. The foregoing, on Poetics 16, looks ahead to the next three chapters in this volume, which discuss the evidence for the lost Homeric Problems in Aristotle’s extant works. 33 See more recently Janko (1987, 114). 34 ἐξ αὐτῆς (sc. τῆς οὐλῆς) δὲ καὶ τῷ Εὐμαίῳ καὶ τῷ Φιλοιτίῳ ὕστερον ἀναγνωρίζεται. Ἀριστοτέλης δέ, φασιν, ἐπιλαμβάνεται τοῦ τοιούτου ἀναγνωρισμοῦ, λέγων ὡς ἄρα κατὰ τὸν ποιητὴν τῷ τοιούτῳ λόγῳ πᾶς οὐλὴν ἔχων Ὀδυσσεύς ἐστι. 35 One of the referees for the press wisely suggested I consider this possibility. 31 32

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 11/12/2018, SPi

44

Aristotle’s Lost Homeric Problems

soul fallaciously infers that the first [A] is [true] as well. There is an example of this in the Bath scene.36

Heath (1996, 59) explains the two most prevalent interpretations of Aristotle’s example: If the stranger is Odysseus, he will have a scar; but his having a scar does not (as the Nurse assumes) entail that he is Odysseus. Some think the reference is to the way the disguised Odysseus deceives Penelope just before the bath-scene (Odyssey, 19.213–60): if the stranger saw Odysseus, he will be able to describe him; but his ability to describe Odysseus does not entail that he saw him.

If what Eustathius is doing is applying this passage to the recognition of the scar by the herdsmen, then his account is muddled. Because Aristotle, in the Poetics 24 passage, is not criticizing Homer but praising his literary use of this fallacious inference. The third possibility is that Eustathius’ source is the Homeric Problems, and that Aristotle in some discussion there of the recognition scenes in the Odyssey added a criticism of Od. 21.217–21 not mentioned or alluded to in Poetics 16—namely, that whereas it is natural to think that the Nurse and Laertes could have recognized Odysseus’ scar, there is no reason to think that the two herdsmen would have as well. For if one were to think that, then “by such reasoning everyone having a scar is Odysseus.” I think this possibility is equally as plausible as the other two. Unfortunately, there are no scholia on Od. 21.217–21 indicating that this was an issue in antiquity, the existence of which would have tipped the scales in favor of my speculations. Perhaps there was a Homeric problem, asking how Eumaios and Philoitios knew about the scar. In this case, however, Aristotle would not have had a solution to it. This Homeric problem (or criticism) persists. For instance, Fernandez-Galiano remarks (in Russo et al. 1992, 171):

δεδίδαχεν δὲ μάλιστα Ὅμηρος καὶ τοὺς ἄλλους ψευδῆ λέγειν ὡς δεῖ. ἔστι δὲ τοῦτο παραλογισμός. οἴονται γὰρ οἱ ἄνθρωποι, ὅταν τουδὶ ὄντος τοδὶ ᾖ ἢ γινομένου γίνηται, εἰ τὸ ὕστερον ἔστιν, καὶ τὸ πρότερον εἶναι ἢ γίνεσθαι· τοῦτο δέ ἐστι ψεῦδος. διὸ δεῖ, ἂν τὸ πρῶτον ψεῦδος, ἄλλο δὲ τούτου ὄντος ἀνάγκη εἶναι ἢ γενέσθαι ᾖ, προσθεῖναι. διὰ γὰρ τὸ τοῦτο εἰδέναι ἀληθὲς ὂν παραλογίζεται ἡμῶν ἡ ψυχὴ καὶ τὸ πρῶτον ὡς ὄν. παράδειγμα δὲ τούτου τὸ ἐκ τῶν Νίπτρων. 36

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 11/12/2018, SPi

A Reappraisal of Heitz

45

“the servants had no way of knowing much about the scar, whereas Eurycleia [the nurse] did” (171).37 * * * My aim in this chapter was not to demonstrate that Heitz is generally better than Rose and Gigon, nor even that in the two cases discussed here he is certainly right. Rather, what I hope I have shown is that these texts deserve consideration by anyone interested in this lost work, and that Heitz (1869) ought not to be passed over by scholars interested in the Homeric Problems.38 37 Earlier, in his introduction to Od. 21, he wrote (133): “The two servants’ recognition of Odysseus also seems to be the work of B” (i.e. the later poet(s) who on his interpretation reworked the original poem, the work of A). Among the evidence Fernandez-Galiano presents is the following: “219–20 are omitted in one papyrus” and “the showing of the wound in 221 is unnecessary.” See Anghelina (2014, 148 n. 10) for earlier scholars who held the same view. Anghelina herself, however, argues that the Eumaios-recognition scene ought not to be considered late or unnecessary. 38 For other Heitz fragments, see Mayhew (2016), as well as (in the present work) chapter 5, section 2.3 (pp. 102–3) and chapter 7, section 3 (pp. 134–6).

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 11/12/2018, SPi

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 8/12/2018, SPi

Part II Studies Based on Aristotle’s Extant Works

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 8/12/2018, SPi

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 8/12/2018, SPi

4 The Evidence from the History of Animals Aristotle cites Homer nine times in the History of Animals. In this chapter I examine all of these references, and I argue that, taken together, they likely provide additional evidence about the content of the Homeric Problems, and how Aristotle approached (or would have approached) some of the debates engaged in by Homeric scholars in antiquity. Before proceeding, I need to recall a couple of basic points from Poetics 25 (discussed in chapter 1, section 2), which should help in understanding the biological excerpts I discuss. First, according to Aristotle, the standard of correctness in mimetic art is not simply the way things were or are; an artist may also (properly) imitate or represent what is said or thought to be the way things were or are. A second (and related) point: even if an artist has committed an error—has imitated or represented something that does not conform to what is true, or what is said or thought to be true—it is not necessarily an esthetic error. In fact, some errors of this sort are justified on the grounds that they better achieve some legitimate esthetic aim. For instance, a beautiful, well-executed painting of a running horse, which fails to make the placement of the legs match the reality of equine motion, commits an error in knowledge of a particular field of study, but not (necessarily) an error in the mimetic art in question, namely painting.1 The same would be true, Aristotle says, of a beautiful painting of a doe with horns. Such factual errors

1 See Poet. 25.1460b17–21 (quoted in chapter 1, section 2 (p. 10)). Aristotle explains this aspect of equine motion in IA 14.712a23–b9.

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 8/12/2018, SPi

50

Aristotle’s Lost Homeric Problems

are not grounds for significant esthetic criticism.2 If a painting could have been well executed and factually accurate about such equine or cervine details, then it would have been even better; however, if some legitimate esthetic end is met by ignoring or contradicting or being mistaken about such details—even if the result is impossible—that is justified on esthetic grounds, and should not be criticized. For example (mine, not Aristotle’s): if a poet portrays a horse leaping an impossibly wide distance or clearing an impossibly high wall, and such a portrayal better conveys grandeur or heroic stature—without straining credulity too much and becoming ridiculous—then such an impossibility is esthetically justified.

4.1. HOMERIC REFERENCES IN THE HISTORY OF ANIMALS Let us turn now to the nine passages in the History of Animals that refer to Homer, in the order in which they are found in this work.3 For each Aristotle text, I follow the method described in the preface (pp. viii–ix).

4.1.1. HA 3.3.513b24–8 and Il. 13.545–7 The account of the gruesome death of Thoön at the hands of Antilochus, in Iliad 13, includes an unusual anatomical description:

2 Poet. 25.1460b31–2. On does lacking antlers, see PA 3.1.662a1–2 and HA 4.11.538b18–19. There was in antiquity a debate over this biological fact, and the artists who were ignorant of it (though the debate did not involve Homer). See Aristophanes of Byzantium, Epitome 2.488–9 (127.9–15 Lampros) and Aelian, NA 7.39, both of whom disagree with Aristotle. 3 I use the text of Balme (2002). Note that Balme reestablished the manuscript order of the books, which had been changed by Theodore Gaza and subsequently accepted by modern editors, including Bekker. See Balme (2002, 1) and Beullens and Gotthelf (2007). Following Balme’s notation, ‘7(8),’ for example, means book 7 according to the manuscript tradition, book 8 in modern editions. In Mayhew (2015), a more expansive version of the present chapter, I also discuss the two other Homeric passages discussed in Aristotle’s biology: one each in the Parts of Animals and Generation of Animals.

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 8/12/2018, SPi

The Evidence from the History of Animals Antilochus, watching Thoön as he turned around, rushed at him and struck, and he cut through4 all the vessel which runs up the back continuously till it reaches the neck.5

51

(545–7)

In HA 3.3, Aristotle turns to describing “the great vessel” (ἡ μεγάλη φλέψ, 513b1)—i.e. the vena cava. At one point, he quotes Homer approvingly (513b24–8): The vessel extending to the vertebra of the throat and to the backbone extends back again along the backbone, which [vessel] Homer too portrayed in these lines, saying: “he cut through all the vessel which runs up the back continuously till it reaches the neck.”6

Aristotle’s identification of the vessel mentioned by Homer with the vena cava is not unproblematic; and just as modern Homeric scholars continue to debate the identity of this vessel,7 ancient scholars likely did as well. At least one scholiast clearly agrees with Aristotle.8 According to an A scholium, the source of which is Aristonicus, 4 It may be more natural to translate ἀπὸ . . . ἔκερσεν ‘cut away’ or ‘cut off,’ but ‘cut through’ is possible (and seems to be required for sense). See Cunliffe (1924), s.v. ἀπό: “In reference to severing or cutting, away, off, through.” Zenodotus of Alexandria (third century BC) would disagree (schol. A Il. 13.546: Ζηνόδοτος “διὰ δὲ φλέβα”). He thought ἀπό should be emended to διά—I assume on the grounds that he believed διά was needed to convey that the vessel was being cut through, i.e. severed. Kelly (2007, 127), understanding ‘cut away/off,’ describes this as “the removal of the φλέψ running up Thoon’s back.” 5

Ἀντίλοχος δὲ Θόωνα μεταστρεφθέντα δοκεύσας οὔτασ’ ἐπαΐξας, ἀπὸ δὲ φλέβα πᾶσαν ἔκερσεν, ἥ τ’ ἀνὰ νῶτα θέουσα διαμπερὲς αὐχέν’ ἱκάνει. 6 ἡ δ’ ἐπὶ τὸν σφόνδυλον τοῦ τραχήλου τείνουσα φλὲψ καὶ τὴν ῥάχιν πάλιν παρὰ τὴν ῥάχιν τείνει, ἣν καὶ Ὅμηρος ἐν τοῖς ἔπεσιν εἴρηκε ποιήσας “ἀπὸ δὲ φλέβα πᾶσαν ἔκερσεν, ἥ τ’ ἀνὰ νῶτα θέουσα διαμπερὲς αὐχέν’ ἱκάνει.” 7 Saunders (1999, 349–51) writes of Il. 13.545–7: “There is no such vein”; and “the efforts of the scholiasts, supported by Aristotle . . . to identify it with the main artery (aorta . . . ) or vena cava . . . are futile, since they are both immediately in front of the spine and protected thereby from a stab wound from behind.” He considers other scholarly suggestions before concluding: Friedrich (1956, 43) “thought the vein was simply a Homeric fantasy, and Friedrich is probably right.” 8 Schol. bT Il. 13.547: ἀνὰ νῶτα θέουσα: ἀνατομικῶς. οἶδε τὴν καλουμένην κοίλην φλέβα, τὴν ἐκ δεξιῶν τῆς ῥάχεως ἀνερχομένην ἀπὸ τοῦ ἥπατος καὶ κατὰ τὸ διάφραγμα χωροῦσαν ἐπὶ τὴν καρδίαν καὶ ἀπὸ ταύτης ἐπὶ τὸν τράχηλον. Homer “knew it was the so-called hollow vessel” (i.e. the vena cava). This is the Hippocratic term for it (see Loc.Hom. 3, which contains identical language: τὴν κοίλην φλέβα καλουμένην). Aristotle does not use this terminology; but note that Galen explicitly identifies ‘the greatest vessel’ with the one named ‘hollow’: μεγίστη φλέψ, ἣν κοίλην ὀνομάζουσι (in Hp. Nat. Hom.; 15.135 Kühn). More on Galen and this work shortly.

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 8/12/2018, SPi

52

Aristotle’s Lost Homeric Problems

Aristarchus flagged the passage, and Aristonicus’ explanation of what is supposedly puzzlingly or objectionable in it survives: it includes πᾶσαν where one would expect ὅλην (the whole vessel, not all the vessel), and it does not successfully convey what had happened to Thoön: “he had fallen after the strike owing to the spinal vessel having been loosened and no longer being the enduring sinew.”9 Aristonicus (presumably following Aristarchus) may have identified this vessel with the spinal cord and not the vena cava, and the same could be said for one D scholiast.10 There is further evidence for ancient debate about how anatomically accurate this Homeric passage is, in an interesting passage from Galen’s commentary on the Hippocratic On the Nature of Man. In On the Nature of Man 11, which discusses “the thickest of the vessels” (αἱ παχύταται τῶν φλεβῶν), the author states not that there is one major vessel running along the spine, but two pairs of vessels. Galen in his commentary claims that this is so obviously wrong that “someone has added the account to the Hippocratic treatise” (εἰς Ἱπποκράτειον σύγγραμμα παρενέθηκέ τις τὸν λόγον). A few lines later he adds: The [nature] of the greatest vessel is so clear, that anyone who is able to learn something from dissection would not be able to overlook it, and this has been agreed to by everyone to such an extent that even the poets themselves know it. In any case, Homer says: “he cut through all the vessel, which runs up the back continuously till it reaches the neck.” He knew, then, that there is a single one, as indeed there is, not four.11 (in Hp. Nat. Hom. 15.138 Kühn)

One may merely speculate that Aristotle too would have defended Homer against the Hippocratic (or pseudo-Hippocratic) account, and in general taken part in this debate. Perhaps there was some such Homeric problem—why did Homer refer to a vessal in the back that

9 Schol. A Il. 13.548a: ὅτι πᾶσαν ἀντὶ τοῦ ὅλην. καὶ ὅτι ἐπὶ τὴν πληγὴν πέπτωκε διὰ τὸ παραλελύσθαι τὴν νωτιαίαν φλέβα καὶ μηκέτι εἶναι τὸ ἀντέχον νεῦρον. 10 Schol. D Il. 13.546: “he severed the whole spinal vessel” (ὅλην δὲ ἀπέτεμε τὴν νωτιαίαν φλέβα). See Saunders (1999, 350). Janko (1992, 114) claims that this vessel is the spinal cord. 11 τὸ δὲ τῆς μεγίστης φλεβὸς οὕτως ἐστὶ πρόδηλον, ὡς μήτε τινὰ λαθεῖν δύνασθαι τῶν δυνηθέντων ἐξ ἀνατομῆς τι μαθεῖν, ὡμολόγηταί τε πᾶσιν ἄχρι τοῦ καὶ τοὺς ποιητὰς αὐτοὺς γινώσκειν. Ὅμηρος γοῦν φησιν· “ἀπὸ δὲ φλέβα πᾶσαν ἔκερσεν, ἥ τ’ ἀνὰ νῶτα θέουσα διαμπερὲς αὐχέν’ ἱκάνει.” μίαν οὖν αὐτὴν οἶδεν, ὥσπερ οὖν καὶ ἔστιν, οὐ τέτταρας.

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 8/12/2018, SPi

The Evidence from the History of Animals

53

was not there or which could not be cut in the way described?—and his solution was (a) there was such a vessel and it could be so cut (the assumption behind the problem is mistaken), and/or (b) even if Homer was mistaken (about its existence or its possibility of being cut), this was not an error in the art itself.12

4.1.2. HA 3.12.519a18–20 and Il. 20.73–4 At the opening of Iliad 20, Zeus informs the other gods that they may now take part in the war, each helping the side he or she supports. The gods pair off in battle: Poseidon against Apollo, Ares against Athena, Hera against Artemis, Leto against Hermes (67–72). Our passage follows: And against Hephaestus was the great, deep-swirling river, Whom gods call Xanthus, and men Scamander.13

The topic of HA 3.12 is animals changing color, especially owing to changes in their environment. At 519a9, Aristotle turns to discussing change in hair color “following changes to their waters” (κατὰ τὰς τῶν ὑδάτων μεταβολάς)—presumably their drinking water—with a focus on lambs. He provides a few examples, concluding the discussion: “In fact the Scamander River is thought to make lambs yellow; and this is why they say Homer calls it Xanthus [i.e. Yellow] instead of Scamander.”14 There certainly was, in antiquity, a dispute over this Iliad passage: over why the Scamander was also called Xanthus, and why the gods called it the latter. As is usually the case, most of the evidence comes from fairly long after Aristotle—though his ‘they say’ (φασιν) indicates that this question was already a topic of discussion and that the river’s purported capacity to turn things yellow (or lambs, at any rate)

12 See Poet. 25.1461b1–9 (i.e. solution no. 12) and 1460b29–32 (i.e. solution no. 2), respectively, discussed in chapter 1, section 2 (pp. 21–2 and 12–13). 13

ἄντα δ’ ἄρ’ Ἡφαίστοιο μέγας ποταμὸς βαθυδίνης, ὃν Ξάνθον καλέουσι θεοί, ἄνδρες δὲ Σκάμανδρον. 14 δοκεῖ δὲ καὶ ὁ Σκάμανδρος ποταμὸς ξανθὰ τὰ πρόβατα ποιεῖν· διὸ καὶ τὸν Ὅμηρόν φασιν ἀντὶ Σκαμάνδρου Ξάνθον προσαγορεύειν αὐτόν.

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 8/12/2018, SPi

54

Aristotle’s Lost Homeric Problems

was one reason given for why it was called Xanthus.15 In fact, this may have been a standard explanation. For instance, here is schol. bT Il. 20.73–4: It is called Xanthus, since it yellows the bodies of those who bathe [in it] or crops. But some [say it is called this] because Aphrodite, bathing in it before the Judgment [of Paris], became yellow [i.e. blonde].16

If this was a problem that Aristotle discussed in his Homeric Problems (e.g. Why did Homer call the Scamander river Xanthus? or Why did Homer say that the Scamander was called Xanthus by the gods?), what might his solution have been? This is unclear. That he writes ‘they say’ seems to suggest that that was not his own answer—that he was simply using this alternative answer as an opinion supporting his claim about changing waters transforming the hair color of certain animals, and not as a key to explaining Homer. Of course, it may also have been his own solution, and he was simply being non-committal in the context of the HA discussion of lambs. Or, it could be that his own answer was a more obvious one (which had nothing to do with lambs): the river was called Xanthus because it looks yellow. (At Il. 21.8 it is described as ἀργυροδίνην, ‘silver-swirling.’)17 But his answer might not have been that straightforward—at least, there might be a good reason for someone to suggest a less obvious explanation. As I indicated, the original problem was likely not simply why the river is called Xanthus but why it is called that by the gods. An explanation in terms of special transformative powers was thus arguably more suitable.18

15 Cf. Pl. Cra. 391e–392a (though Plato’s interest is in why one name is more correct—that is to say, divine—than the other). 16 Ξάνθος δὲ καλεῖται, ἐπεὶ τὰ σώματα τῶν λουομένων ἢ τοὺς καρποὺς ξανθίζει. οἱ δέ, ὅτι πρὸ τῆς κρίσεως Ἀφροδίτη λουσαμένη αὐτοῦ ξανθὴ γέγονεν. Re. ‘blonde’: The version in Eustathius (Il. 20.73–4 (4.374.22–3)) says it yellowed her hair, which I think makes more sense: ἢ ὅτι Ἀφροδίτη πρὸ τῆς κρίσεως ἐν αὐτῷ λουσαμένη ξανθὰς ἔσχε τρίχας. 17 That seems to be the obvious answer. But it has been argued that, etymologically, Scamander and Xanthos have the same root, which is in fact unconnected to ξανθός (‘yellow’). This interpretation is described in Edwards (1991, 297–8). Note also West (2011, 366): “Scamander was evidently the name in use in P’s [i.e. the author’s] time, Xanthos one current in poetic tradition.” See also Janko (1992, 197). 18 None of the above suggested answers to the question raised, however, fits into the list of solutions presented in Poetics 25.

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 8/12/2018, SPi

The Evidence from the History of Animals

55

4.1.3. HA 6.20.574b29–575a1 and Od. 17.326–7 In a poignant scene in Odyssey 17 (290–327),19 a disguised Odysseus, talking to Eumaeus, recognizes an old dog lying nearby on a dung heap: it is Argos, whom Odysseus had raised as a pup. Whereas no one else has recognized Odysseus, Argos pricks up his ears at his master’s voice. Odysseus and Eumaeus talk about the dog briefly and then exit, at which point (326–7): The doom of black death now seized Argos, straightaway having seen Odysseus in the twentieth year.20

In HA 6.20, Aristotle presents assorted information about dogs, with particular attention to the Laconian breed. Toward the end of the chapter, he discusses the longevity of the Laconian dog (574b29–575a1): Οf the Laconian dogs the male lives about ten years, the female about twelve, whereas of the other dogs most of the females live around fourteen or fifteen years, but some even twenty; and this is why some believe Homer correctly portrays the dog of Odysseus dying in the twentieth year.21

Once again, Aristotle’s own words—“some believe” (οἴονταί τινες) etc.—indicate that at the time he wrote this, people were debating, in connection with Argos, whether it was possible for a dog to live for twenty years or more. One interpretation, it seems, was that Homer is accurate: some dogs live past twenty, and therefore Argos could have. That this was one view on the issue is confirmed by Eustathius, who again provides a clue to some of the parties of the debate. After quoting Od. 17.326–7, he turns to “the issue concerning how long Argos was strong enough to live.”22 The first interpretation he presents,

19 20

For a brief but excellent commentary on this scene, see Steiner (2010, 116–22).

Ἄργον δ’ αὖ κατὰ μοῖρ’ ἔλαβεν μέλανος θανάτοιο, αὐτίκ’ ἰδόντ’ Ὀδυσῆα ἐεικοστῷ ἐνιαυτῷ. 21 ζῇ δὲ τῶν Λακωνικῶν κύων ὁ μὲν ἄρρην περὶ ἔτη δέκα, ἡ δὲ θήλεια περὶ ἔτη δώδεκα, τῶν δ’ ἄλλων κυνῶν αἱ πλεῖσται περὶ ἔτη τετταρακαίδεκα ἢ πεντεκαίδεκα, ἔνιαι δὲ καὶ εἴκοσιν· διὸ καὶ Ὅμηρον οἴονταί τινες ὀρθῶς ποιῆσαι τῷ εἰκοστῷ ἔτει ἀποθανόντα τὸν κύνα τοῦ Ὀδυσσέως. 22 καὶ ὅρα τὴν ἱστορίαν ἐπὶ πόσον ὁ Ἄργος ἐξήρκεσε ζῶν. Re ‘issue’: in the context of ancient literary criticism, ἱστορία means “the usage of the ancients; a story or piece of information alluded to by a poet that requires explanation” (Dickey 2007, 241).

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 8/12/2018, SPi

56

Aristotle’s Lost Homeric Problems

which seems to be his own, is roughly the sort of interpretation mentioned by Aristotle: Some side with Homer, who is accurate, “because dogs can live even twenty-four years” (ὅτι δὲ καὶ εἰκοσιτέσσαρα ζῶσιν ἔτη κύνες).23 What would Aristotle have made of this interpretation? He might have balked at using the longevity of some female dogs as support for Homer’s portrayal of Argos (a male). Aristophanes of Byzantium (c.257–180 BC), a Homeric scholar in his own right, discussing HA 6.20 in his Epitome of Aristotle’s History of Animals, is either criticizing Aristotle or (more likely) trying to distance him from this interpretation: “The [male] Laconian [dog] lives ten years, the female twelve; but the other females live to fourteen. But the myth being made about the dog of Odysseus, that he lived twenty years, is among the things believed in vain.”24 There is other evidence, however, that Aristotle defended at least one aspect of the accuracy of this Homeric passage (and perhaps more importantly, that he discussed this issue in his Homeric Problems). Here is schol. V Od. 17.326 (Porph. HQO p. 124 Schrader=fr. 177 Rose/400 Gigon): Aristotle says that the dog was already a very old one, and it is reasonable that he was killed by his pleasure with regard to Odysseus: for intense pleasures destroy even strong [animals]. And this is why [Homer] portrayed the dog as recognizing [him], rejoicing, and then dying.25

This answers a different (but related) question: Was it reasonable to portray Argos dying shortly after seeing Odysseus? But the age of Argos, and how plausible such an age is, would likely have been brought in to answer this question. Another interpretation Eustathius mentions maintains that Argos’ unnaturally long life, and the manner of his death, were used by the gods to send a good omen to Odysseus. After stating that the ancients (οἱ παλαιοὶ) claim that the pleasure of recognition killed Argos, as violent pleasure can kill just as much as violent pain, he adds:

23

Eust. Od. 17.326–7 (2.146.23). Ar.Byz. Epit. 2.180 (p. 79.11–14 Lampros): ζῇ δὲ ὁ μὲν Λακωνικὸς ἔτη δέκα, ἡ δὲ θήλεια δώδεκα· αἱ δὲ ἄλλαι ζῶσι δεκατέσσαρα. τὸ δὲ μυθολογούμενον περὶ τοῦ τοῦ Ὀδυσσέως κυνός, ὡς εἴκοσιν ἔτη ἔζησε, τῶν εἰκῇ πεπιστευμένων ἐστίν. 25 Ἀριστοτέλης φησὶν ὅτι πρεσβύτης ἦν ἤδη σφόδρα ὁ κύων, καὶ ὑπὸ τῆς ἡδονῆς τῆς πρὸς τὸν Ὀδυσσέα ἐτελεύτησεν εἰκότως· αἱ γὰρ σφοδραὶ ἡδοναὶ καὶ ἰσχυροὺς διαλύουσι. διὸ καὶ τὸν κύνα ἐποίησεν ἀναγνωρίσαντα καὶ ἡσθέντα διεκψῦξαι. 24

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 8/12/2018, SPi

The Evidence from the History of Animals

57

But the action, it was said, was also an omen auspicious for Odysseus. For the dog was perhaps white, as was written before,26 and everything white is a good omen. Now as a dog both weak through old age and dying at the same time as the sighting of Odysseus, it revealed the shamelessness and weakness of the suitors and their not being long for this world, even if otherwise they themselves were gladdened with high expectations.27 (Od. 17.327 [2.146.26–9])

Both Poetics 25 and the fragmentary evidence of the Homeric Problems reveal that Aristotle prefers straightforward explanations or interpretations, and not allegorical ones or appeals to the divine— though divine intrusions into a story are fine, he thinks, if necessitated by the plot (see chapter 1, section 2 (pp. 14–15)). He discusses omens, however, only when they are an explicit part of Homer’s story.28 I can think of another likely interpretation (or rather criticism) of this passage—one which may well have prompted the debate over it in the first place. Recall from chapter 1 Zoilus of Amphipolis, the Scourge of Homer, who was hypercritical about what many would regard as non-essentials. One can imagine Zoilus (or someone like him) criticizing Homer for unrealistically extending the life of Argos. Such a criticism would not have impressed Aristotle, however. Even if the facts of canine biology did not support Homer, that would have been little cause for concern; for as we have seen, such factual errors are tolerable if some legitimate esthetic end is achieved, and I believe that that condition is met here: This touching scene connects Odysseus with his past life in Ithaca, and underscores all that was absent or lost in the intervening twenty years. Stretching the longevity of Argos slightly beyond what was likely or possible (if that is what Homer did, on Aristotle’s view) to cover Odysseus’ twenty-year absence was a small price to pay.29

26

See Eust. Od. 17.290 (2.145.33–9). τὸ δὲ πρᾶγμα καὶ σύμβολον ἦν, ὡς ἐῤῥέθη, αἴσιον τῷ Ὀδυσσεῖ. λευκὸς μὲν γὰρ ἴσως ἦν ὁ κύων, ὡς καὶ προεγράφη. πᾶν δὲ λευκὸν χρηστὸν σύμβολον. ὡς δὲ καὶ κύων καὶ ἀσθενὴς διὰ γῆρας καὶ ἅμα τῇ τοῦ Ὀδυσσέως θέᾳ θανὼν, τὸ τῶν μνηστήρων ἐδήλου ἀναιδὲς καὶ ἀσθενὲς καὶ ὠκύμορον, εἰ καὶ ἄλλως χρησταῖς ἐλπίσιν ἔσαινον ἑαυτούς. 28 See schol. B* Il. 2.305 (Porph. HQI pp. 44–7 MacPhail=fr. 145 Rose/369 Gigon), on the prophecy of Calchas (Il. 2.323–9). 29 See Poet. 25.1460b29–32 (i.e. solution no. 2), discussed in chapter 1, section 2 (pp. 12–13). 27

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 8/12/2018, SPi

58

Aristotle’s Lost Homeric Problems

4.1.4. HA 6.21.575b4–7 and Il. 2.402–3 and 7.313–15, Od. 19.418–20 and 10.19–20 In three passages, Homer mentions a five-year-old bull: But Agamemnon, lord of men, sacrificed a bull, fat and of five years, to the son of Cronos, supreme in might.30 (Il. 2.402–3) When they came to the huts of the son of Atreus, Agamemnon, lord of men, sacrificed a bull for them, male and of five years, to the son of Cronos, supreme in might.31 (Il. 7.313–15) Autolycus called to his glorious sons to make ready the meal; and they hearkened to his call. At once they led in a bull, male and of five years.32 (Od. 19.418–20)

In a fourth passage, however, the age of a bull is said to be nine seasons: [Aeolus] gave me a wineskin, made of the hide of a flayed bull of nine seasons, and therein he bound the paths of the blustering winds.33 (Od. 10.19–20)

As we have seen, ancient Homeric scholarship often concerned explaining apparent contradictions—or, in the case of Homer’s more severe critics, pointing out what they claimed were actual contradictions. The first three passages do not necessarily contradict the fourth, but some critics thought they did or at least thought Homer needed to be 30

αὐτὰρ ὃ βοῦν ἱέρευσεν ἄναξ ἀνδρῶν Ἀγαμέμνων πίονα πενταέτηρον ὑπερμενέϊ Κρονίωνι. 31

οἳ δ’ ὅτε δὴ κλισίῃσιν ἐν Ἀτρείδαο γένοντο, τοῖσι δὲ βοῦν ἱέρευσεν ἄναξ ἀνδρῶν Ἀγαμέμνων ἄρσενα πενταέτηρον ὑπερμενέϊ Κρονίωνι. West (1998) brackets this last line as an interpolation. 32

Αὐτόλυκος δ’ υἱοῖσιν ἐκέκλετο κυδαλίμοισι δεῖπνον ἐφοπλίσσαι· τοὶ δ’ ὀτρύνοντος ἄκουσαν. αὐτίκα δ’ εἰσάγαγον βοῦν ἄρσενα πενταέτηρον. 33

δῶκε δέ μοι ἐκδείρας ἀσκὸν βοὸς ἐννεώροιο, ἔνθα δὲ βυκτάων ἀνέμων κατέδησε κέλευθα.

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 8/12/2018, SPi

The Evidence from the History of Animals

59

defended against such a charge. Aristotle was aware of this issue. In HA 6.21, he presents assorted information about cattle; and after a brief description of their usual longevity, he writes (575b4–7): [The bull] is at its prime especially when five years old, and this is why some say Homer portrayed them well, writing “male and of five years old” and “bull of nine seasons”; for [they say these] can be the same.34

Why did Homer sometimes refer to a bull of five years, but elsewhere to one of nine seasons?35 If Aristotle did discuss this in his Homeric Problems, it would seem that his solution was that this was no contradiction at all, because ‘nine seasons’ was an unusual or metaphorical way of saying ‘five years.’36 This would have been unorthodox. So far as I have been able to determine, without exception the ancient lexical and etymological works, as well as the Homeric scholia, all take ‘nine seasons’ to mean ‘nine years.’37 On this view, Homer did not equate ‘five years’ and ‘nine seasons.’ But this would not be a problem, for one could say that the first three passages all describe ritual sacrifice (or, in the third case, ritual meal preparation), and so require a bull in its prime (i.e. five years old), but that nothing rules out a wineskin, divinely crafted to contain the winds, being made out of the hide from a nine-year-old bull. But this does not appear to have been Aristotle’s approach.38

4.1.5. HA 6.28.578a32–b5 and Il. 9.538–9, Od. 9.190–1 What follows are two (seemingly) unrelated passages, one describing a wild pig, the other the Cyclops Polyphemus: and enraged at his [i.e. Oineus’] glorious family, the Lady of Arrows [i.e. Artemis] 34 ἀκμάζει δὲ μάλιστα πεντετὴς ὤν, διὸ καὶ Ὅμηρόν φασι πεποιηκέναι τινὲς ὀρθῶς ποιήσαντα “ἄρσενα πενταέτηρον” καὶ τὸ “βοὸς ἐννεώροιο”· δύνασθαι γὰρ ταὐτόν. 35 Cf. the following Homeric problem: Why does Homer at one point say that Crete has one hundred cities (Il. 2.649) but elsewhere ninety (Od. 19.172–4)? But the present case does not seem to be even an apparent contradiction. 36 See Poet. 25.1461a31–5 (i.e. solution no. 11ʹ). 37 E.g. schol. D Od. 10.19, ἐννεώροιο: ἐνναετοῦς. See also schol. D Od. 11.311, schol. Ge Il. 18.351 (Nicole), schol. Plat. Min. 319b, Hesych. ε 3196–7, Suda ε 1240, Ap. Soph. (68.11–19 Bekker), Eust. Il. 18.351 (4.189.6), and Eust. Od. 10.390 (1.386.32–3). 38 Eustathius does not offer any direct help with our passage, though it is perhaps noteworthy that he quotes HA 6.21 in support of Homer (Il. 2.402–3 (1.374.23–6)): καὶ Ἀριστοτέλης οὖν ἱστορήσας ἀκμάζειν μάλιστα τὸν βοῦν πέντε ἔτη ὄντα λέγει ὀρθῶς πεποιηκέναι τὸν Ὅμηρον βοῦν ἄρσενα πενταέτηρον. φησὶ δὲ καὶ τὸ “βοὸς ἐννεώροιο” ταὐτὸν δύνασθαι.

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 8/12/2018, SPi

60

Aristotle’s Lost Homeric Problems roused against [him] a chlounês wild pig with shining teeth39 (Il. 9.538–9) and indeed he had been formed an enormous wonder, not like a man, an eater of bread, but like a wooded peak.40 (Od. 9.190–1)

The connection between these two passages is entirely accidental: Aristotle’s quotation of Homer’s description of the wild pig combines parts of both passages. Apparently, his text (or his memory) of Il. 9.538–40 did not match the manuscript tradition. In HA 6.28, Aristotle presents assorted information about wild pigs. Here is the second half of this brief chapter (578a32–b5): Of the male wild [pigs], the castrated ones become largest and fiercest, as Homer too wrote: “[Artemis] reared against [him] a chlounês wild pig: not like a bread-eating41 beast, but like a wooded peak.” They become castrated because an infliction involving itching befalls them, when they are young, in the testicles; then, scratching themselves against trees, they squeeze out their testicles.42

That Aristotle’s text of the Iliad was possibly different may be an indication that this passage received scholarly attention;43 but the major controversy concerned the meaning of χλούνην.44 Judging

39

ἣ δὲ χολωσαμένη δῖον γένος Ἰοχέαιρα ὦρσεν ἔπι χλούνην σῦν ἄγριον ἀργιόδοντα. 40

καὶ γὰρ θαῦμ’ ἐτέτυκτο πελώριον, οὐδὲ ἐῴκει ἀνδρί γε σιτοφάγῳ, ἀλλὰ ῥίῳ ὑλήεντι. 41 This epithet makes more sense in a passage about Cyclopes, contrasting breadeating humans with Polyphemus’ man-eating (ἀνδροφάγοιο, Od. 10.200). Perhaps as a contrast to wild pigs, σιτοφάγῳ means ‘grain-eating’ (as in herd animals and certain domesticated animals). 42 τῶν δ’ ἀρρένων καὶ ἀγρίων [sc. ὑῶν] οἱ τομίαι μείζους γίνονται καὶ χαλεπώτεροι, ὥσπερ καὶ Ὅμηρος ἐποίησεν “θρέψεν ἔπι χλούνην σῦν ἄγριον· οὐδὲ ἐῴκει θηρί γε σιτοφάγῳ, ἀλλὰ ῥίῳ ὑλήεντι.” γίνονται δὲ τομίαι διὰ τὸ νέοις οὖσιν ἐμπίπτειν νόσημα κνησμὸν εἰς τοὺς ὄρχεις· εἶτα ξυόμενοι πρὸς τὰ δένδρα ἐκθλίβουσι τοὺς ὄρχεις. 43 Eustathius, commenting on the Iliad passage, reports that the text of ‘the Geographer’ (i.e. Strabo) is different, which he says indicates that lines have dropped out of Homer’s text (Il. 9.539 (2.793.9–794.12)). The text he quotes is the same as Aristotle’s. Hainsworth (1993, 133) writes that Aristotle “contaminated these [Iliad] verses with Od. 9.190–1,” and Strabo cited Aristotle “thus creating the mirage of a genuine paradosis.” 44 Beekes (s.v. χλούνης): “The word has no etymology, and the case is worsened by the unclear meaning” (2010, 2: 1639).

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 8/12/2018, SPi

The Evidence from the History of Animals

61

from the scholia and other sources, in antiquity several meanings were offered for this mysterious word: ‘solitary,’ ‘fierce,’ ‘strong,’ and ‘living in the wild.’45 Aristotle, however, clearly thinks it means ‘castrated,’ otherwise his quotation from Homer would be unconnected to his discussion of castrated wild pigs. Little else can be said about the nature of the debate. There is a noteworthy passage in Plutarch’s Natural History Questions that is quite intriguing in the present context: no. 21 (Mor. 917B–D),46 which asks why domesticated sows farrow more than once and during different seasons, whereas wild ones farrow only once and pretty much during the same period.47 Plutarch offers four explanations. “The fourth and final explanation takes into account the fertility of wild boars” (Meeusen 2016a, 440), and refers to our Aristotle passage (Mor. 917D). Plutarch has Aristotle claiming that this animal has one testicle (though he gives the same reasons Aristotle does in the History of Animals): “Or in fact is what is said by Aristotle true, that Homer called the pig chlounês because of its one testicle? For he claims that most [wild boars] break their testicles by rubbing them against tree trunks.”48 The major interpretive question is: What explains the difference in language between the HA 6.28 passage and Plutarch’s presentation, and especially in the references to full castration (τομίας) as compared to one testicle (μόνορχις)? Perhaps the two most likely explanations are offered by Meeusen (2016a, 444–5): “There may still be reason to assume that Plutarch in Q.N. 21 generally draws on one or more lost Aristotelian problems, which, in their turn, probably originate from Aristotle’s original text.” Or: “A digression into total infertility and castration (τομίας) would be of no use here, and thus an adaptation of Aristotle’s text was mandatory for Plutarch (μόνορχις).” I do not, however, think we can rule out this suggestion from Sandbach (1982, 225): “But since τομίας does not mean μόνορχις 45

E.g. Aristophanes of Byzantium apud Eust. Il. 9.539 (2.794.14–19), schol. AbT Il. 9.539a1–b, Ap. Soph. 168.9 (Bekker), Hesychius χ 542. See too the entry in Chantraine (1977, 1264) s.v. χλούνης. 46 For commentary, see Meeusen (2016a, 439–45). 47 Διὰ τί τῶν ὑῶν αἱ μὲν ἥμεροι πλεονάκις τίκτουσι καὶ κατ’ ἄλλον ἄλλαι χρόνον, αἱ δ’ ἄγριαι καὶ ἅπαξ καὶ περὶ τὰς αὐτὰς ἅπασαι σχεδὸν ἡμέρας. 48 ἢ καὶ τὸ λεγόμενον ὑπ’ Ἀριστοτέλους ἀληθές ἐστιν, ὅτι ‘χλούνην’ Ὅμηρος ὠνόμασε σῦν τὸν μόνορχιν; τῶν γὰρ πλείστων φησὶ προσκνωμένων τοῖς στελέχεσι θρύπτεσθαι τοὺς ὄρχεις.

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 8/12/2018, SPi

62

Aristotle’s Lost Homeric Problems

one may suspect another source, perhaps in the work Περὶ Ὁμήρου, three times quoted by Plutarch elsewhere.” I do not know quite what Sandbach is referring to (and his comment lacks references). The words περὶ Ὁμήρου appear twice in close proximity in the work Epicurus Actually Makes a Pleasant Life Impossible (Mor. 1095A–E), but in neither case is it likely to be a title. Another reference to Aristotle in Plutarch, however—namely, How the Young Should Listen to Poetry 12 (Mor. 32E–33A)—is generally (and correctly, in my view) taken to be a fragment from Aristotle’s Homeric Problems (fr. 165 Rose/403 Gigon). And I argue in chapter 8, section 2 (pp. 148–52) that a passage in Plutarch, Whether Land or Sea Animals are Cleverer 24 (Mor. 977A), is another. So I think it is safe to assume that Plutarch knew of the work (directly or indirectly).

4.1.6. HA 7(8).28.606a18–21 and Od. 4.85 In Odyssey 4, Telemachus is in Sparta to speak with Menelaus, who tells him about the many lands he visited during the Trojan expedition, like Cyprus, Egypt, Ethiopia: “and Libya, where lambs become horned at once” (καὶ Λιβύην, ἵνα τ’ ἄρνες ἄφαρ κεραοὶ τελέθουσι) (85). In HA 7(8).28, Aristotle discusses a variety of animals, and how they differ from one location to another. Libya receives a lot of attention. For example (606a18–21): And in Libya the horned rams are born straightaway having horns—not only the males, as Homer says, but the others as well; whereas in the Pontus, around Scythia, it is the opposite: they are born hornless.49

According to the manuscript tradition of the History of Animals, Aristotle assumes that in the Iliad passage ἄρνες (‘lambs’) refers to males only,50 and he uses τὰ ἄλλα (‘the others’) to refer to female lambs. Many editors have found this too problematic to let stand. Bekker therefore emended ἄρρενες to ἄρνες (from Od. 4.85)—a plausible revision

49 καὶ ἐν μὲν Λιβύῃ εὐθὺς γίνεται κέρατα ἔχοντα τὰ κερατώδη τῶν κριῶν, οὐ μόνον οἱ ἄρρενες, ὥσπερ Ὅμηρος φησὶν, ἀλλὰ καὶ τὰ ἄλλα· ἐν δὲ τῷ Πόντῳ περὶ τὴν Σκυθικὴν τοὐναντίον· ἀκέρατα γὰρ γίνονται. 50 This is not necessitated by Homer’s text, as ἄρνες (masc./fem. nom. pl.) with κεραοί (masc. nom. pl.) could refer to males alone or to both males and females.

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 8/12/2018, SPi

The Evidence from the History of Animals

63

accepted by most editors since (Balme being an exception). For this emendation to work, however, κριῶν (‘rams’) must be emended as well. I think the best suggestion is Dittmeyer’s κτηνῶν,51 which, with τὰ κερατώδη, yields ‘the horned herd animals.’ Consequently, τὰ ἄλλα would have to refer to the other horned herd animals, which arguably makes more sense than ‘the females.’52 But whether such lingering textual issues reflect ancient debates over the meaning of Od. 4.85 is impossible to determine. Judging by HA 7(8).28, Aristotle may have been interested in whether Menelaus’ claim was intended to be limited to males or applicable to all lambs. Judging by the scholia and Eustathius,53 however, the following was the main point of debate or discussion concerning Od. 4.85: What precisely did Homer mean by ἄφαρ (‘at once’)? (Is he saying that Libyan lambs are born with horns, or that they begin to grow horns immediately at birth, or merely that they grow them earlier, and perhaps more quickly, than in other places?) And of course, however one answers these questions, there was an interest in determining whether Homer’s claim was true. Aristotle seemed to hold that Homer’s claim about Libyan lambs is accurate, as far as it goes—but he should not have limited the claim to males (or to lambs, depending on how one reads the text). Further, contrasting Libya and Scythia makes clear that Aristotle took Homer to be saying that the animal in question is born with horns; and here too he believed this to be accurate. (Note that Aristotle does not write ‘as some people say’ or the like.) This is a lot to pack into one brief passage, and I find it entirely plausible that these issues were discussed by Aristotle at greater length in his Homeric Problems. But what the precise problem was, as well as Aristotle’s solution, I find impossible to say.54

51

Dittmeyer (1907, 346), ex Hdt. 4.29. The first half of the passage would thus be rendered: “And in Libya the horned herd animals are born straightaway having horns—not only the lambs, as Homer says, but the others as well.” 53 See schol. H Od. 4.85b, schol. V Od. 4.85c1, and Eust. Od. 4.83 (1.150.20–31). Eustathius quotes both Aristotle and Herodotus in support of Homer. 54 As this Homeric line is inessential—it names one item in a list of examples of the many lands through which Menelaus traveled—its inaccuracy (if it were inaccurate) would not have been justifiable on esthetic grounds. But correcting Homer here does not amount to leveling a major esthetic criticism. 52

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 8/12/2018, SPi

64

Aristotle’s Lost Homeric Problems

4.1.7. HA 8(9).12.615b5–10 and Il. 14.289–91 In Iliad 14, the god Sleep settles in a tree on Mt. Ida, in the form of a bird, which, like the river Scamander, has two names (289–91): There he sat covered by the branches of the fir, in the likeness of a whistling bird, which in the mountains the gods call chalkis, and men kumindis.55

HA 8(9).7–36 is a lengthy set of descriptions of the attributes and behavior of many kinds of birds. In 8(9).12, Aristotle writes (615b5–10): The kumindis rarely appears, for it dwells in mountains, and it is black and as large as the hawk called the pigeon-killer, and its form is long and narrow. Ionians call it kumindis; indeed, Homer mentions it in the Iliad, saying “the gods call [it] chalkis, and men kumindis.”56

The ancients may have discussed which bird this in fact is, though there is little evidence about the nature of such a discussion. At Birds 1181, Aristophanes includes it among a group of taloned birds: “kestrel, buzzard, vulture, kumindis, eagle” (κερχνῄς, τριόρχης, γύψ, κύμινδις, αἰετός). One Homeric scholar adds, at the end of a fairly lengthy scholium (schol. T Il. 14.291a), τινὲς δὲ τὴν γλαῦκα (“and some [say it is] the owl”), and this identification may well be correct.57 Also discussed was whether the noun κύμινδις was masculine or feminine, though there is no evidence about the precise nature of this debate.58

55

ἔνθ’ ἧστ’ ὄζοισιν πεπυκασμένος εἰλατίνοισιν ὄρνιθι λιγυρῇ ἐναλίγκιος, ἥν τ’ ἐν ὄρεσσι χαλκίδα κικλήσκουσι θεοί, ἄνδρες δὲ κύμινδιν. 56 ἡ δὲ κύμινδις ὀλιγάκις μὲν φαίνεται, οἰκεῖ γὰρ ὄρη, ἔστι δὲ μέλας καὶ μέγεθος ὅσον ἱέραξ ὁ φασσοφόνος καλούμενος, καὶ τὴν ἰδέαν μακρὸς καὶ λεπτός. κύμινδιν δὲ καλοῦσιν Ἴωνες αὐτόν· ἧς καὶ Ὅμηρος μέμνηται ἐν τῇ Ἰλιάδι εἰπὼν “χαλκίδα κικλήσκουσι θεοί, ἄνδρες δὲ κύμινδιν.” 57 Janko (1992, 196–7) has a valuable comment on all aspects of Il. 14.289–91. Arnott (2007, s.v. Kumindis, Kybindus) is valuable as well (and includes a surprisingly vast bibliography), though he is less confident about identifying the bird of Il. 14.291. 58 παρὰ δέ τισι θηλυκῶς λέγεται (schol. D Il. 14.291); ἔτι δὲ ὁ κύμινδις ἢ ἡ κύμινδις, ἑκατέρως γὰρ λέγεται (Eust. Il. 14.291 (3.643.7)). I assume Aristotle is right that the word is feminine (ἡ κύμινδις), though perhaps it was sometimes written ὁ κύμινδις, since Homer presents it as Sleep (ὁ Ὕπνος) transformed.

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 8/12/2018, SPi

The Evidence from the History of Animals

65

Most of the discussion of this passage focused on why this bird received two names, and especially why it received these two names.59 First, the divine name: One plausible suggestion is that the name chalkis comes from its having bronze (χαλκός) coloring.60 Another suggestion is that this bird is given “the sweet-sounding name [chalkis] by the gods” (τὸ εὔφωνον ὄνομα τοῖς θεοῖς) and that it “is inspired by the Muses” (ὑπὸ Μουσῶν καταπνεόμενος); but again, no connection specifically to the name chalkis is indicated.61 This same scholiast, however, mentions a couple of mythological explanations that have been offered, and these allow us to make the (or a) connection: Some say that it is Harpalyce, who had intercourse with her father Clymenus by force, and boiling their son Presbon she served [Presbon] to him. Or because she coupled with Zeus, and Hera turned her into a bird; but she [first] spent time in Chalcis as a human being. And some say Chalcis is the mother of the Corybantes.62

This passage contains, among the mythology, an actual explanation of the name chalkis: the bird was in some way associated with the city of Chalcis (in Euboea). And if Chalcis (a mythological woman) was mother of the Corybantes, who are connected to music and dancing, that could explain why this is the bird’s divine name. As for the human name: e.g. this bird, we are told, is called kumindis either from the sound it makes (which means, I take it, that the name is onomatopoeic),63 or because of its connection to concealment (κρύψις).64

59 Cf. Pl. Cra. 392a—though again, Plato’s interest is in why one name is divine. On modern etymology (which of course has little in common with ancient attempts at explaining word origins), see Beekes (2010, 1: 802), who adds: “Clearly a loan word, because of the suffix –νδ–; perhaps of Anatolian origin, or Pre-Greek, which may amount to the same.” 60 One scholiast quotes Aristotle, and seems to connect his claim that the bird is black with its “being bronze in color”: ἔστι δὲ μέλας, χαλκίζων τὴν χροιάν (schol. D Il. 14.291). Cf. schol. T Il. 14.291a: ἢ ὅτι χαλκίζει τὴν χροιάν. 61 Schol. T Il. 14.291a. 62 τινὲς δέ φασιν αὐτὴν εἶναι Ἁρπαλύκην, ἣ μιγεῖσα τῷ πατρὶ Κλυμένῳ κατὰ βίαν, ἑψήσασα τὸν υἱὸν Πρέσβωνα παρέθηκεν αὐτῷ. ἢ ὅτι Διῒ συνῆλθεν, Ἥρα δὲ ὠρνίθωσεν αὐτήν· ἐν Χαλκίδι δὲ διῆγεν ἄνθρωπος οὖσα. οἱ δὲ τὴν μητέρα τῶν Κορυβάντων Χαλκίδα φασίν. 63 Schol. D Il. 14.291: καλεῖται κύμινδις ἀπὸ τῆς φωνῆς (“is called kumindis from its sound”). 64 Schol. D Il. 14.291: ἀεὶ δὲ τὴν κεφαλὴν ὑπὸ τοὺς κλάδους κρύπτει (“it always hides its head under branches”); schol. T Il. 14.291a: ἢ ὅτι κατὰ νύκτα ὁρᾶται (“or because she is seen at night”).

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 8/12/2018, SPi

66

Aristotle’s Lost Homeric Problems

The brief HA 8(9).12 passage does imply that Aristotle would have taken a stand in the debates on this passage: he claimed to know which bird it is; he described it (however unhelpful that description is now); he may have offered an explanation as to why it had more than one name (though the explanation does not refer to the gods): “the Ionians call it kumindis” (the implication being that other Greeks—and perhaps nonGreeks—called it chalkis). Aristotle defends the accuracy of Homer’s account, at least to this extent: Homer places the bird on Mt. Ida and has it cover itself behind branches; Aristotle says this kind of bird dwells in the mountains and therefore is rarely seen. But once again, how his discussion of this bird would have fit into the program of the Homeric Problems is impossible to say, given the dearth of information.

4.1.8. HA 8(9).32.618b18–30 and Il. 24.315–16 In the final book of the Iliad, Priam prays to Zeus and asks for a bird omen—“dearest of birds, with the greatest power”65 (311)—as a sign that he may safely go to Achilles to appeal for Hector’s corpse. Zeus responds. Straightaway he sent an eagle, most perfect of winged creatures, morphnos the hunter, which is also called perknos.66 (315–16)

As we shall see, the key issues in antiquity surrounding this passage were: the identity of this eagle, whether it is identical to other eagles mentioned in the Iliad, why it is called morphnos,67 and whether Homer was right in naming it the most powerful eagle. 65

φίλτατος οἰωνῶν, καί εὑ κράτος ἐστὶ μέγιστον. 66

αὐτίκα δ’ αἰετὸν ἧκε, τελειότατον πετεηνῶν, μόρφνον θηρητῆρ’, ὃν καὶ περκνὸν καλέουσιν. In this context, τελειότατον may mean surest or most reliable of birds qua omen. See Richardson (1993, 305–6). Although περκνόν is an unusual word, which required identification in scholia and lexical works, its meaning is clear enough (note Erotian: περκνόν· μέλαν). It is related to περκάζω, which means ‘become dark’ (schol. bT Il. 24.316b: περκνὸν δὲ μέλανα, ὡς βότρυν, ὃν καὶ περκάζειν φασίν). So far as I can tell, it was not an object of discussion or debate among Homeric scholars; but see Euth. Il. 24.316 (4.911.2–13). On τελειότατον and περκνόν, see also Macleod (1982, 114). 67 One issue, for which there is no evidence of interest on Aristotle’s part, was the etymology of μόρφνον. According to Ap.Soph. s.v. μόρφνον (113.28 Bekker), it is a

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 8/12/2018, SPi

The Evidence from the History of Animals

67

Aristotle discusses the morphnos in HA 8(9).32, in his account of the kinds of eagles:68 Of the eagles there are many kinds, (1) one is what is called white-rump; this occurs throughout the plains and the groves and the cities; and some call it fawn-killer . . . 69 (2) Another kind of eagle is the one called plangos, which is second in size and strength; it dwells in valleys and hollows and lakes, and is nicknamed duck-killer and morphnos; Homer also mentions it in the Expedition of Priam.70 (3) And another is black in color and smallest in size and strongest of them; this dwells in mountains and forests and is called black-eagle and hare-killer. This one alone completes the rearing of its young and leads them out. And it is quick-striking.71 (618b18–30)

Aristotle describes three other kinds: dark-wing (περκόπτερος), seaeagles (ἁλιαετοί), and true-breds (γνησίους); the true-bred is “the largest of all of the eagles” (μέγιστος τῶν ἀετῶν ἁπάντων) (618b31–619a12). So, of the six eagle kinds, Aristotle identifies the morphnos—the one Homer mentions in Iliad 24—with the plangos (also known as the duckkiller). Aristotle may also be correcting Homer: the morphnos is not the most powerful; the one called black-eagle and hare-killer is.72 Porphyry makes it clear that Il. 24.315–16 was a topic of discussion among Homeric scholars, and particularly the identity of the eagle mentioned therein:73

shortened form of μορόφονον (unlikely an actual word), which is said to come from τὸν διὰ τοῦ φόνου τὸν μόρον ἐπιφέροντα (‘the one who brings doom through killing’). Cf. Eust. Il. 24.316 (4.910.19–20). (Beekes (2010) is no help here.) 68 On the actual identity of these birds, see Arnott (2003), who writes that the one called plangos or morphnos is “by far the hardest to pin down” (232). See also Arnott (2003, s.v. Morphnos). 69 I omit Aristotle’s further details about this bird, as they are not relevant in the present context. 70 I.e. Priam’s ‘expedition’ in Iliad 24 to appeal to Achilles for the return of Hector’s body. 71 τῶν δ’ ἀετῶν ἐστὶ πλείονα γένη, ἓν μὲν ὁ καλούμενος πύγαργος· οὗτος κατὰ τὰ πεδία καὶ τὰ ἄλση καὶ περὶ τὰς πόλεις γίνεται· ἔνιοι δὲ καλοῦσιν νεβροφόνον αὐτόν . . . ἕτερον δὲ γένος ἀετοῦ ἐστὶν ὃ πλάγγος καλεῖται, δεύτερος μεγέθει καὶ ῥώμῃ· οἰκεῖ δὲ βήσσας καὶ ἄγγη καὶ λίμνας, ἐπικαλεῖται δὲ νηττοφόνος καὶ μορφνός· οὗ καὶ Ὅμηρος μέμνηται ἐν τῇ τοῦ Πριάμου ἐξόδῳ. ἕτερος δὲ μέλας τὴν χρόαν καὶ μέγεθος ἐλάχιστος καὶ κράτιστος τούτων· οὗτος οἰκεῖ ὄρη καὶ ὕλας, καλεῖται δὲ μελανάετος καὶ λαγωφόνος. ἐκτρέφει δὲ μόνος τὰ τέκνα οὗτος καὶ ἐξάγει. ἔστι δ’ ὠκυβόλος. 72 Cf. Il. 24.311 (κράτος ἐστὶ μέγιστον) and Il. 21.253 (κάρτιστος) with HA 8(9).32.618b27 (κράτιστος). 73 Porph. HQI pp. 270–3 MacPhail. On this passage, see also Mayhew (2017b).

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 8/12/2018, SPi

68

Aristotle’s Lost Homeric Problems

It was inquired into what sort of eagle Homer mentions here [i.e. Il. 24.315–16]: the white-rump or the Aphrodite74 or the dusky—about which he speaks in Iliad 1075—and again, [the one] “with the swoops of the black eagle, the hunter,” about which he speaks in Iliad 21. But this is the same, called morphnos by name, and it too is black, about which Aristotle says “black in color and smallest in size and strongest; it dwells in mountains and forests and is called black-eagle and hare-killer; and it is quick-striking.”76

Porphyry equates the morphnos of Iliad 24 with the eagle referred to in Iliad 21; and this is plausible. He then goes on to identify this eagle with the third one mentioned by Aristotle (whereas Aristotle identifies it with the second). One explanation is that Porphyry is confused. But I think it is just as likely that he is indicating his disagreement with Aristotle on this issue, and using Aristotle’s own discussion to attempt to refute him—on the grounds that the third is black (see Il. 21.252) and the strongest, whereas Aristotle’s choice is “second in size and strength” and its color is not specified. One might argue that the fact that Porphyry quotes from the History of Animals, and not from the Homeric Problems (which he quotes or paraphrases often), implies that Aristotle did not discuss this issue in the latter. But Aristotle could have written about the eagle of Iliad 24 in both works: a fuller presentation of the problem and his solution (whatever they were, which is difficult to determine) in the Homeric Problems, but a very different presentation— with a passing reference to Homer (perhaps lifted straight from his Homeric Problems)—in his account of eagles in the History of Animals.

MacPhail (2011, 271): “The name is surely owed to Aphrodite’s role in Zeus’ seduction of Nemesis. Zeus disguises himself as a swan and Aphrodite as an eagle and has her pursue him into Nemesis’ lap (Hyginus 2.8).” 75 Πέλλος means ‘dusky,’ ‘dark,’ or ‘grey.’ The bird Athena sends to Odysseus and Diomedes in Iliad 10 is a heron (ἐρωδιόν). Cf. Aristotle, HA 8(9).1.609b21–3. Porphyry is aware that this bird is a heron: see HQI pp. 178–9 MacPhail. 76 ἐζητήθη ποίου μέμνηται ἐνταῦθα Ὅμηρος αἰετοῦ, τοῦ πυγάργου ἢ τοῦ ἀφροδισίου ἢ πέλλου, περὶ ὧν φησιν ἐν τῇ Ἰλιάδι Κ, καὶ πάλιν “αἰετοῦ οἴματ’ ἔχων μέλανος τοῦ θηρητῆρος” περὶ οὗ φησιν ἐν τῇ Ἰλιάδι Φ. ἔστι δὲ ὁ αὐτός, καλούμενος μορφνὸς ὀνόματι καὶ μέλας δὲ ὤν, περὶ οὗ φησιν Ἀριστοτέλης· “ἕτερος δὲ μέλας χρόαν καὶ μέγεθος ἐλάχιστος καὶ κράτιστος· οἰκεῖ δ’ ὄρη καὶ ὕλας, καλεῖται δὲ μελαναίετος καὶ λαγωσφόνος. ἔστι δὲ ὠκυβόλος.” 74

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 8/12/2018, SPi

The Evidence from the History of Animals

69

4.1.9. HA 8(9).44.629b21–4 and Il. 11.552–4 and 17.661–3 Homer twice in the Iliad uses identical words to describe a lion, which in turn is used as a metaphor in two different contexts: once to describe Ajax responding to the attack of the Trojans (11.552–4), and once to describe Menelaus, frustrated in his pursuit of Patroclus (17.661–3).77 . . . for the flying javelins they throw from bold hands straight [at him], and the flaming torches, and these he shrinks from despite his zeal.78

In HA 8(9).44, Aristotle commences a discussion of the characters of animals (τὰ ἤθη τῶν ζῴ ων), for instance courage and cowardice (what would be ethical virtues or vices in humans). He begins with a long account of lions, which includes the following (629b21–4): What is said [about the lion] is true, both that what it fears most of all is fire—as indeed Homer portrayed: “and the flaming torches, and these he shrinks from despite his zeal”—and that it watches the man throwing [the spear] and rushes at that one.79

There was discussion in antiquity of the meaning of the unusual words in this Homeric passage, and especially δεταί (= λαμπάδες, ‘torches’).80 And there was debate over the propriety (in Iliad 11) of comparing Ajax first to a lion (548–57), and then straightaway to a donkey (558–62).81 But I have discovered no evidence (aside from the HA passage itself) that there might have been discussion concerning

77 Some modern scholars have doubts about how appropriate or effective the metaphor is in this latter case. See Edwards (1991, 126) and West (2011, 341). 78

. . . θαμέες γὰρ ἄκοντες ἀντίον ἀΐσσουσι θρασειάων ἀπὸ χειρῶν καιόμεναί τε δεταί, τάς τε τρέει ἐσσύμενός περ. 79 ἀληθῆ δὲ καὶ τὰ λεγόμενα, τό τε φοβεῖσθαι μάλιστα τὸ πῦρ, ὥσπερ καὶ Ὅμηρος ἐποίησεν “καιόμεναί τε δεταί, τάς τε τρεῖ ἐσσύμενός περ”, καὶ τὸ τὸν βάλλοντα τηρήσαντα ἵεσθαι ἐπὶ τοῦτον. 80 See: Athen. 15.701A; Philoxenus fr. 395 (Theodoridis) s.v. δετή; schol. D Il. 11.554, schol. T Il. 11.554, and schol. bT Il. 17.663. This last paraphrases Aristotle: καὶ Ἀριστοτέλης ἐν τῷ Περὶ ζῴων φησὶ λέοντα μάλιστα τὸ πῦρ δεδοικέναι. δεταὶ δὲ ὀξυτόνως αἱ συνδεδεμέναι ἐκ ξύλων λαμπάδες. 81 See chapter 5, section 2.3, note 86 (p. 98).

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 8/12/2018, SPi

70

Aristotle’s Lost Homeric Problems

the accuracy of Homer’s account of lions and their fear of fire. All one can do further is speculate that if Aristotle did take part in such a discussion or debate, he offered a straightforward defense of Homer.

4.2. THE HOMERIC PR OBLEMS AND THE HIS TORY OF ANIMALS I need to say a few words about the relative dates of the Homeric Problems and the History of Animals, then summarize the roles played by the Homeric passages in the latter, and finally speculate about a possible connection between these passages and the Homeric Problems. Recall that in chapter 1, I mentioned Halliwell’s reasonable speculation that the Homeric Problems was likely “compiled over a protracted period of time” (1998, 327–8). David Balme (1991, 21–6) has made a strong case for the History of Animals having been written after the other biological treatises (though it relies on them), and (more tentatively) for Aristotle having begun that work during his Lesbos period (around 344).82 Elsewhere (1987, 80) he writes that the History of Animals “remains unfinished, with evidence that new items were constantly being added.” So it would not be overly speculative to claim that Aristotle began both his study of animals and his Homeric Problems relatively early in his career (or at least not late in it), and that he worked on both continually, over a long stretch of time, and conceivably at the same time (at least some of the time). Or to put it another way: There is no reason to think that one of these works was written before the other, in any meaningful sense, and certainly not that one—the Homeric Problems, say—was shelved and forgotten by the time Aristotle began his History of Animals. If Aristotle was working on his History of Animals and Homeric Problems at the same time or during the same period, then it is perhaps less surprising that he would refer, in the former, to Homer or allude to Homeric scholarly controversies. But what purpose do these passages serve? And why do so many (relative to the rest of the corpus) appear in the History of Animals? 82 This is in a section titled “Date of HA and Its Relation to Other Treatises of Aristotle,” in his introduction to his Loeb HA 7–10. This should be read in conjunction with Lennox (1996).

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 8/12/2018, SPi

The Evidence from the History of Animals

71

In four of the nine passages that I have examined, Homer himself is quoted or cited in support of the point Aristotle is making: 3.3.513b24–8 (on the great vessel); 6.28.578b1 (on castrated wild pigs); 7(8).28.606a18–21 (on Libyan lambs); and, 8(9).44.629b21–4 (on the lion’s fear of fire).83 In one of these passages (on wild pigs), the support from Homer requires or implies an interpretation of the meaning of the cryptic word χλούνην; in another (on Libyan lambs) the support is conditional, in that it requires that Homer be partially corrected. In three of these passages, what some people say about Homer is cited in support of the point Aristotle is making: 3.12.519a18–20 (on waters producing change in color); 6.20.574b29–575a1 (on the age of female dogs); and, 6.21.575b4–7 (on when a bull is in its prime).84 In none of these cases is it made clear whether Aristotle agrees with the opinion presented (though perhaps we should assume that if he had agreed he would simply have cited Homer). In the remaining two passages, the Homeric citation does not seem to (and I assume was not meant to) support Aristotle’s claim, and so its purpose is unclear: HA 8(9).12.615b5–10 (on the bird kumindis), and HA 8(9).32.618b18–30 (on the eagle in Iliad 24).85 In both cases, Aristotle merely states that the bird he is discussing is mentioned in Homer, and so I do not see what purpose these passages serve (aside from adding color to a biology lecture). Balme (1991, 24) noted that one significant difference between the History of Animals and the rest of the biology is the abundance of references to expert opinion: “The other treatises contain little specialist knowledge, whereas HA quotes extensively from fishermen, stock farmers, beekeepers, eel breeders, bird fanciers, etc.”86 For example, midway through HA 8(9).40, Aristotle’s long chapter on bees, he provides an account of animals that are a threat: wasps, three kinds of birds (titmouse, swallow, and bee-eater), frogs, and toads (626a7–b1). He mentions that the bee-keepers (οἱ μελισσεῖς) hunt the frogs and remove the wasps’ nests and the nests of the swallows and bee-eaters that are nearby (626a9–13). He ends this account (626a30–b1): 83

84 See above, sections 1.1, 1.5, 1.6, and 1.9. See above, sections 1.2–1.4. See above, sections 1.7–1.8. 86 For a longer list of such specialists, see the index to this work (prepared by Allan Gotthelf), under ‘Experts’ (pp. 563–4). 85

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 8/12/2018, SPi

72

Aristotle’s Lost Homeric Problems

The toad too destroys bees; for coming to the entrances [of the hives] it blows, and looking out for them it eats them as they fly out. Now it can suffer no harm from the bees, but the man tending the hives kills it.87

I think it is safe to assume that the reports from beekeepers do not merely confirm certain conclusions Aristotle came to independently; they are likely his source for that information. Similarly, consider this account of the anthias (HA 8(9).37.620b33–5): Wherever the anthias is, there is no beast;88 and the sponge-divers use it as a sign that they can dive, and so they call these sacred fish.89

Again, it is highly likely that information about the anthias gained from interviewing sponge-divers does not merely confirm this account, but makes it possible—is its source. That Aristotle relies on specialist knowledge more in the History of Animals than he does in the other biological works might explain why this work contains far more references to Homer or Homeric scholars. But these citations are generally quite different from the reports from other specialists. The seven Homer references that support the point Aristotle makes merely offer opinions that act as a kind of independent confirmation. They add no new information. For example, recall these two passages: The vessel extending to the vertebra of the throat and to the backbone extends back again along the backbone, which indeed Homer presented in these lines, saying: “he cut through all the vessel which runs up the back continuously till it reaches the neck.” (3.3.513b24–8) Οf the Laconian dogs the male lives about ten years, the female about twelve, whereas of the other dogs most of the females live around fourteen or fifteen years, but some even twenty. And this is why some believe Homer correctly portrays the dog of Odysseus dying in the twentieth year. (6.20.574b29–575a1)

In fact in all nine cases, one could remove the reference to Homer or what people say about a Homeric passage, and the point Aristotle is making would remain intact. None of them (even those that offer some support)

87 ἀπόλλυσι δὲ καὶ ὁ φρῦνος τὰς μελίττας· ἐπὶ τὰς εἰσόδους γὰρ ἐλθὼν φυσᾷ τε καὶ ἐπιτηρῶν ἐκπετομένας κατεσθίει· ὑπὸ μὲν οὖν τῶν μελιττῶν οὐδὲν δύναται κακὸν πάσχειν, ὁ δ’ ἐπιμελόμενος τῶν σμηνῶν κτείνει αὐτόν. 88 Likely a shark or some other fish dangerous to humans. 89 ὅπου δ’ ἂν ἀνθίας ᾖ οὐκ ἔστι θηρίον· ᾧ καὶ σημείῳ χρώμενοι κατακολυμβῶσιν οἱ σπογγεῖς, καὶ καλοῦσιν ἱεροὺς ἰχθῦς τούτους.

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 8/12/2018, SPi

The Evidence from the History of Animals

73

is essential to Aristotle’s discussion; none is tightly integrated into the context in which it appears. This is especially true of the two passages that mention Homer, but offer Aristotle no support. And note that in one passage that does seem to offer some support (6.21.575b4–7, on when a bull is in its prime), Aristotle mentions—completely unnecessarily, in the context of that chapter—that people say that in Homer ‘five years’ and ‘nine months’ could be the same. Most of the Homer references could well be excerpts from someplace else—information plucked from another source, in which they are a much better fit. But what source? I think there are two possibilities. First, Aristotle’s notebooks. Allan Gotthelf (2012, 383) explains that the full Aristotelian scientific inquiry must be thought of as having three stages: the collection of data, the organization of data, and the explanation of data . . . There is no surviving treatise at [the collection] stage. This is the notebook stage, where Aristotle records observations and reports, evaluates them, deciding which to accept and which to reject; looks for shared features across different kinds; etc.90

Second, the Homeric Problems.91 Of course, I cannot rule out in every case the possibility that Aristotle copied relevant passages directly from (his memory of) the Homeric epics into his notebooks or into the specific biological treatise; and in some cases perhaps that is what he did. (I mention an example shortly.) But I think that, based on the evidence I have provided, in all nine cases it is at least possible that the source was the Homeric Problems—that Aristotle was, directly or indirectly, drawing on that work.92 Moreover, in every case the discussion of animals is more helpful in interpreting Homer than the citations from Homer or Homeric scholars are in illuminating some point about biology. That is, for example, his observations-based discussion of the age of dogs is more helpful and ‘at home’ in a discussion of the age of Odysseus’ dog Argos than the reference to what some say about the age of Argos is in 90 Gotthelf goes on to describe, as a work from this stage of inquiry, Aristotle’s lost Dissections/Ἀνατομῶν (383–4). See also Gotthelf ’s comments on the work On Marvelous Things Heard, which is generally considered inauthentic (385). The History of Animals is from the organization of data stage, the Parts of Animals and the Generation of Animals from the explanation of data stage (383). 91 Aristotle might have jotted down passages from his Homeric Problems into his notebooks, but in such cases I would still regard the Homeric Problems as the source. 92 By ‘possible’ I do not mean merely that it is logically possible, but that there is some genuine support for the claim I am making and that nothing rules it out as impossible (though the case is no stronger than that and certainly not conclusive).

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 8/12/2018, SPi

74

Aristotle’s Lost Homeric Problems

the History of Animals’s account of the longevity of dogs. This is suggestive. Now in only one case do I think the possibility of a connection to the Homeric Problems is slight: 8(9).44.629b21–4 (on the lion’s fear of fire). This passage would not be worth considering if not for the other Homeric passages. For Aristotle does not refer to what others say about the passage, and there is no evidence of any complications in the text of Homer and little evidence of any debate in antiquity. If this were the only reference to Homer in the History of Animals, I would not assume it came from Aristotle’s Homeric Problems but more likely from his knowledge of Homeric epic (though we might still wonder why he included it). But I do not think one should say the same about the other eight passages: With these, there is a greater possibility that they came not simply from Aristotle’s knowledge of the Homeric epics, but from his sustained work on the epics in the context of ancient Homeric scholarship. There are more complexities involved, and there is more evidence that the passages were the subject of debate in antiquity. I believe that that is clear from my discussion of them. And if I had to name a passage that I thought went well beyond a distinct possibility of coming from the Homeric Problems and rose to the level of probability, I would mention 6.20.574b29–575a1, on the longevity of Odysseus’ dog Argos.93 If I am right, then the History of Animals gives us further insights (beyond the fragments and Poetics 25) into the nature of the Homeric Problems—and particularly into some of the problems Aristotle likely addressed, and in some cases how he might have solved them.94 The passages I have examined also confirm what we know from the other sources: that Aristotle respected and revered Homer, and sought whenever possible to defend him, but that this reverence did not amount to uncritical approval.

93

In Mayhew (2015, 125–7), I argue that PA 3.10.673a10–17 (on a severed head speaking) is another passage from Aristotle’s biological works that ought to be considered a probable source of information on the Homeric Problems. 94 I do not mean to suggest that Aristotle’s discussion of biological issues in his Homeric Problems is limited to (at most) the nine cases that I have discussed in this chapter. Janko (1992, 23–4, 71–2, 339) notes a number of passages in Homer in which Zenodotus emends the text in the name of zoological accuracy. These emendations might reflect ancient debates in which Aristotle took part, though no evidence for that participation survives.

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 7/12/2018, SPi

5 The Evidence from the Rhetoric Aristotle quotes Homer over thirty times in his Rhetoric—more than in any other work, including the Poetics. In this chapter, I examine what I believe are the most promising of these references and argue that they likely provide additional evidence about the content of the Homeric Problems. Or at the very least, they give us a better idea of how Aristotle would have approached some of the debates engaged in by Homeric scholars in antiquity. This chapter consists of two parts: First, I discuss Homeric passages quoted in Rhetoric 1.11 and 2.2–3 in accounts of mixed emotions, and specifically lamentation and anger. Second, I discuss Homeric passages quoted in Rhetoric 3 in accounts of linguistic style, and specifically epithets, asyndeton and repetition, and metaphors.1

5.1. EMOTIONS The topic of Rhetoric 1.11 is pleasure (from the perspective of what is useful to the orator). Aristotle observes that all pleasant experiences involve either perceptions of what is happening in the present, memories of what has happened in the past, or expectations of what will happen in the future (1370a32–5). Now it is not the case, he says, that all pleasant experiences are based on pleasant perceptions or memories or expectations. Some pleasures are mixed with pain. For instance, discussing “the things that are pleasant to remember” (τὰ . . . μνημονευτὰ ἡδέα), he points out that some unpleasant experiences can 1

The text of the Rhetoric I have used is Kassel (1976).

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 7/12/2018, SPi

76

Aristotle’s Lost Homeric Problems

be pleasant to remember, provided the results of those experiences were noble and good (καλὸν καὶ ἀγαθόν) (1370a35–b3). In the discussion that immediately follows (1370b3–32), Aristotle quotes Homer three times, in connection with two such ‘mixed’ feelings or emotions: lamentation and anger. Lamentation involves a painful feeling (grief over the death of a loved one) mixed with pleasurable memories (of the loved one). Anger involves a painful feeling (in response to a perceived slight or injustice) mixed with a pleasurable expectation (that is, the anticipation of revenge or being avenged).2 I begin with a passage on lamentation—as an example of a case in which investigation and speculation arguably get us somewhere, but ultimately not all that far—before turning to quotations from Homer in discussions of anger in Rhetoric 1.11 and 2.2–3, which are I believe more promising. I end the section with a Homeric passage quoted in Rhetoric 2.9 in the course of a discussion of indignation, an emotion not unlike anger.

5.1.1. Lamentation In Rhetoric 1.11, Aristotle writes: So too, a certain pleasure similarly occurs in grief and lamentation; for there is pain for the one who is not present, but pleasure in remembering and in a way seeing him and what he did and the sort of person he was. This is also why the following is reasonably said: “So he spoke, and stirred in all of them the longing for weeping.”3 (1370b25–9)

The line quoted appears twice in Homer: it is said about Achilles speaking to his comrades, while mourning the dead Patroclus (Il. 23.108), and about Menelaus speaking to Helen and Telemachus, grieving over the lost Odysseus (Od. 4.183).4 2 Cf. Pl. Phlb. 47c–48b: this passage on the mixtures of pain and pleasure quotes Il. 18.108–9, on anger (more on that shortly), but does not otherwise refer to Homer. On the influence of the Philebus on the Rhetoric’s account of pleasure and pain, see Frede (1996, 258–9). 3 καὶ ἐν τοῖς πένθεσι καὶ θρήνοις ὡσαύτως ἐπιγίνεταί τις ἡδονή· ἡ μὲν γὰρ λύπη ἐπὶ τῷ μὴ ὑπάρχειν, ἡδονὴ δ’ ἐν τῷ μεμνῆσθαι καὶ ὁρᾶν πως ἐκεῖνον, καὶ ἃ ἔπραττε, καὶ οἷος ἦν. ὅθεν καὶ τοῦτ’ εἰκότως εἴρηται “ὧς φάτο, τοῖσι δὲ πᾶσιν ὑφ’ ἵμερον ὦρσε γόοιο”. 4 The phrase ὑφ’ ἵμερον ὦρσε γόοιο appears in five other places, once with τοῖσι δὲ πᾶσιν but not ὧς φάτο (Il. 23.153), four times with ὧς φάτο but not τοῖσι δὲ πᾶσιν (Il. 24.507, Od. 4.113, 19.249, 23.231).

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 7/12/2018, SPi

The Evidence from the Rhetoric

77

The lamentation passages in Homer—and especially Achilles’ mourning the death of Patroclus, including his subsequent mutilation of the body of Hector and his response to Priam’s visit—were the subject of ancient discussion and debate, and particularly concerning whether the expression of his lamentation was appropriate. Porphyry presents the views of three early critics on Achilles’ lamentation: Plato, Zoilus, and Zenodorus.5 First, he simply refers to the criticism of Homer in Republic 3, where Plato devotes a fair amount of space to lamentation (387d–388d). There, Socrates and his interlocutors agree that they “will take out the lamentations and the wailings of eminent men,”6 for the decent man (ὁ ἐπιεικὴς ἀνήρ) does not consider death to be terrible for the decent man; and in their education, young guardians should be exposed only to decent men. Plato quotes or cites the Iliad six times to make clear the kind of passages that should be cut on these grounds.7 The line quoted in Rhetoric 1.11 (Il. 23.108) is not among them, but it surely would not have survived the Platonic editing of Homer. Next, Porphyry presents the views of Zoilus, who agrees with Plato about Achilles’ lamentation: Zoilus [FGrHist 71, fr. 11] says that it is strange that Achilles knows only now; for he should have known before that the dangers of war are common, and he should not have supposed that death is terrible; and to grieve so excessively is woman-like—a barbarian nurse would not have acted so—and yet at the dragging of Hector Hecuba is nothing like this.8

5 Porph. HQI 18.22 (pp. 230–1 MacPhail) = schol. A Il. 18.22–35. For evidence of a possible earlier criticism of lamentation in Homer, see Democr. 68B143 DK = Phld. Ir. (PHerc. 182 (fr. 17 col. 29)). For a discussion of Il. 23.108 in the context of Stoic accounts of lamentation, see Chrysippus, On Affections 2 (fr. 467), from Galen, quoting Posidonius (fr. 410), in PHP 4.7.24–33. 6 καὶ τοὺς ὀδυρμοὺς ἄρα ἐξαιρήσομεν καὶ τοὺς οἴκτους τοὺς τῶν ἐλλογίμων ἀνδρῶν. 7 In this order: 24.10–12, 18.22–5 (referred to, not quoted), 22.414–15, 18.54, 22.168–9, 16.433–4. Note that Proclus in Rep. (Essay 6, Book 1) discusses lamentation (1:122.21–126.7 Kroll) and attempts to reconcile Homer and Plato by arguing that “for philosophers, pleasures and pains and the mixtures of these are in no way appropriate” (τοῖς μὲν γὰρ φιλοσόφοις καὶ καθαρτικῶς ἐνεργοῦσιν ἡδοναὶ καὶ λῦπαι καὶ αἱ τούτων μίξεις οὐδαμῇ προσήκουσιν), though they are appropriate “for those engaging in war” (τοῖς δὲ ἐν πολέμῳ στρεφομένοις) (124.1–14). 8 Ζωΐλος δέ φησιν ἄτοπον νῦν εἰδέναι τὸν Ἀχιλλέα· προειδέναι τε γὰρ ἐχρῆν ὅτι κοινοὶ οἱ πολεμικοὶ κίνδυνοι, τόν τε θάνατον οὐκ ἐχρῆν δεινὸν ὑπολαμβάνειν· τό τε οὕτως ὑπερπενθεῖν γυναικῶδες, οὕτως οὔτ’ ἂν βάρβαρος τι⟨τ⟩θὴ ἐποίησεν· καίτοι Ἑκάβης ἐπὶ τῷ συρμῷ Ἕκτορος οὐδὲν τοιοῦτόν ἐστιν.

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 7/12/2018, SPi

78

Aristotle’s Lost Homeric Problems

As far as we can determine from what Porphyry tells us, Zoilus makes three related points: knowledge of the possible loss of life in war should have tempered Achilles’ grief (I assume because our grief is not as severe in cases in which we know someone is dying or might die); death is not terrible (I assume on something like Platonic grounds); excessive grief is effeminate, barbarian, and lowly (thus “barbarian nurse”), but even Hecuba (two out of three) did not react in such a way at seeing the mutilation of her son’s body. Finally, Porphyry notes that Zenodorus9 defends Homer in one way by suggesting that the extent of Achilles’ lamentation matches the nature of the loss he suffered,10 “and in another way” by pointing out that “these things were customary in life at that time” (καὶ ἄλλως συνήθη ταῦτα τῷ ⟨τό⟩τε βίῳ).11 One can imagine Aristotle taking part in this debate and defending Homer in the same way as this last. For as he says in Poetics 25 (in a passage discussed in chapter 1): “Some things are perhaps not better [than they are or than people say], but they were that way” (1461a1–2).12 Achilles’ expression of grief may not be proper for an aristocratic male of the Classical age (or beyond), but in the age of heroes they did things differently. Furthermore, Aristotle would no doubt have had much to say, in itself and in response to Zoilus and Plato, about Achilles’ lamentation: In EN 9.11, there is an interesting and highly relevant discussion (without reference to Homer) of what level of lamentation is appropriate to a virtuous man, and whether one ought to share that experience with friends (1171a27–b12). In Poetics 15, discussing characterization, Aristotle presents, as examples “of the unsuitable and not fitting, both the lamentation of Odysseus in the Scylla and the 9 There are in the scholia instances of confusion between Zenodorus and the more well-known Zenodotus (see Pusch 1890, 135–8). Little is known about Zenodorus (first century BC?). He is said to have written a Περὶ τῆς Ὁμήρου συνηθείας (schol. bT Il. 18.356b). On this important and lengthy scholium, see Nünlist (2009, 279–81). What purports to be an epitome of the work exists in one manuscript (Paris. suppl. gr. 1164); see Miller (1868, 407–12). The reference to what is συνήθης (customary) in Zenodorus’ second solution suggests that this is not an instance of Zenodorus– Zenodotus confusion. 10 Ζηνόδωρος δὲ ἀπολογεῖται, λέγων ὅτι διὰ τὴν ὑπερβολὴν τῶν πεπραγμένων θρηνεῖ. 11 This is followed by two lines of verse (Od. 4.197–8) that illustrate that cutting one’s hair and shedding tears were at the time common expressions of grief. 12 τὰ δὲ ἴσως οὐ βέλτιον μέν, ἀλλ’ οὕτως εἶχεν.

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 7/12/2018, SPi

The Evidence from the Rhetoric

79

speech of Melanippe” (1454a29–31).13 The Scylla is a lost dithyramb by Timotheus, in which Odysseus is apparently mourning the loss of his men to the Scylla in a way that Aristotle considers morally objectionable or at least not what we would expect given the character of Homer’s Odysseus (cf. Od. 12.244–59).14 Further, a purported (and likely) source text from the Homeric Problems shows that Aristotle discussed Il. 24.560–72, a scene involving lamentation and anger, in which Priam comes before Achilles as a suppliant, requesting the return of Hector’s body, and Achilles responds angrily to Priam’s request to return to Troy with the body without delay. This is from Eustathius, on Il. 24.569 (4.956.1–5): Note that Aristotle, as the ancients say, concludes that the character of Achilles is inconsistent,15 who at first welcoming the suppliant Priam with gentle words, then becoming a lion so to speak, as is clear from “like a lion he leaps to the door” (572)—and this is why “the old man was afraid and obeyed what he said” (571)—grows wild and threatens [Priam] with what was stated beforehand.16

So, it is highly probable that in the Homeric Problems Aristotle discussed lamentation in general, and perhaps Il. 23.108 (“the longing for weeping”) in particular. But to make a case that the Rhetoric passage in which this line is quoted reflects what Aristotle might have said there on such issues, we must consider what he actually says in the Rhetoric τοῦ δὲ ἀπρεποῦς [sc. παράδειγμα] καὶ μὴ ἁρμόττοντος ὅ τε θρῆνος Ὀδυσσέως ἐν τῇ Σκύλλῃ καὶ ἡ τῆς Μελανίππης ῥῆσις. On the speech of Melanippe in Euripides’ lost Melanippe the Wise (which was thought to be too intellectual for a woman), see Mayhew (1999). 14 Cf. Aristotle, On Poets fr. 63 Janko (= Aristocles of Messene, On Philosophy fr. A 1 col. ii 18–32). 15 By calling Achilles inconsistent (ἀνώμαλον), Aristotle is not (necessarily) criticizing Homer. In Poetics 15, Aristotle says that the fourth thing the poet ought to aim at in characterization is consistency; and he adds that an inconsistent character is fine, if that is intended, as long as the character is consistently inconsistent (1454a26–8). On Aristotle on Homer’s Achilles, see Poet. 15.1454b8–15. 16 σημείωσαι δὲ ὅτι Ἀριστοτέλης, ὥς φασιν οἱ παλαιοί, ἀνώμαλον εἶναι τὸ τοῦ Ἀχιλλέως ἦθος συνάγει, ὃς τὰ πρῶτα μειλιχίοις δεξιωσάμενος τὸν ἱκέτην Πρίαμον, εἶτα λεοντωθεὶς οἷον, ὡς δηλοῖ τὸ “λέων ὣς ἆλτο θύραζε”—διὸ καὶ νῦν “ἔδδεισεν ὁ γέρων καὶ ἐπείθετο μύθῳ”—ἀγριοῦται καὶ ἀπειλεῖται τὰ προρρηθέντα. I assume “what was stated beforehand” (τὰ προρρηθέντα) refers to the words Achilles spoke at Il. 24.560–70. Eustathius’ sources (οἱ παλαιοί) no doubt include such scholia as schol. B* Il. 24.569 (= fr. 168 Rose/391.1 Gigon) and schol. T Il. 24.569 (= fr. 391.2 Gigon/not in Rose), though these are much terser (e.g. all the B* scholium says about this is Ἀριστοτέλης φησὶν ἀνώμαλον εἶναι τὸ Ἀχιλλέως ἦθος). 13

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 7/12/2018, SPi

80

Aristotle’s Lost Homeric Problems

about this verse; and what he says is that Homer did well in composing this line, as it reflects the fact that lamentation has elements of pain and pleasure, as longing (ἵμερος) implies pleasure, weeping or wailing (γόος) implies pain. Now if there were ancient evidence that this line was considered puzzling or problematic, because longing implies desire or pleasure whereas wailing involves pain, which seems contradictory, then we would be on fairly solid ground: Aristotle would likely have been aware of such an issue, and he would have had a response in defense of Homer. Unfortunately, there is no evidence of any such debate or discussion, so we can merely say: Perhaps. But I will add that there is some ancient evidence (from Porphyry) in connection with anger involving both pleasure and pain; and the fact that there is arguably offers a bit of secondary support to my speculations about discussions of lamentation in Aristotle’s Rhetoric and Homeric Problems. In any case, I turn to anger now.

5.1.2. Anger 1 In Rhetoric 1.11, Aristotle presents anger as an example of a mixed emotion based on pleasant expectations (1370b10–12): “And this is why feeling angry is pleasant, just as Homer also wrote about spirit (περὶ τοῦ θυμοῦ): ‘[bile], which is much sweeter than dripping honey’ [Il. 18.109].”17 Aristotle quotes this same line (and the verse that follows it) in his discussion of anger (ἡ ὀργή) in Rhetoric 2.2 (more on that shortly). There is some reason to think Aristotle might have discussed this passage in his Homeric Problems, in connection with his views on the mixed emotions. In the extant first book of his Homeric Questions on the Iliad (§§69–71 Sodano), Porphyry writes that although Plato is considered the “first to point out that pains are mingled with pleasures in the case of anger and grief, Homer realized this earlier and taught Plato.”18 There follows a brief account of anger terms in Homer, with 17 διὸ καὶ τὸ ὀργίζεσθαι ἡδύ, ὥσπερ καὶ Ὅμηρος ἐποίησε περὶ τοῦ θυμοῦ “ὅς [sc. χόλος] τε πολὺ γλυκίων μέλιτος καταλειβομένοιο”. I translate θυμός ‘spirit’ throughout, though it was a common word for anger, which is clearly what it refers to here. Further, χόλος (the humor bile) can also refer to anger, as it does in this Homeric passage. 18 Πρῶτος δοκεῖ Πλάτων λύπας ἡδοναῖς μιγνυμένας δεικνύναι ἐπ’ ὀργαῖς καὶ πένθεσιν, Ὁμήρου πρότερον τουτὶ συνεωρακότος καὶ τὸν Πλάτωνα διδάξαντος. Porphyry is likely referring to Phlb. 47c–48b (see above, note 2).

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 7/12/2018, SPi

The Evidence from the Rhetoric

81

Porphyry pointing out that Homer never uses ὀργή (which would become a standard term for anger, e.g. in Aristotle), instead using θυμός and χόλος. Speaking of χόλος, Porphyry then asks: “How then does it share in pleasure?” (πῶς οὖν ἡδονῆς μέτοχος;). As is so often the case, this question may come from a much older source (or was prompted by the content of much older sources), though Porphyry does not name one here. For instance, one can imagine Zoilus criticizing Homer for presenting an emotion that is both painful and pleasant—or at least asking: How can anger, which is painful, also be pleasant? In any case, Porphyry answers the question by quoting two passages from the Iliad: [Bile], which is much sweeter than dripping honey, Grows in the breast of men, like smoke [18.109–10]. Indeed, [Homer says] anger is an elation of the heart and an awakened impulse: But when rage befell Meleager, which even in others Also swells the mind [νόον] in the breast [9.53–4].19

That is it. Porphyry offers no other answer to the question. Aristotle, by contrast, has much more to say about how anger shares in pleasure, and I think that such an account from him may well have appeared in his Homeric Problems, in response to the false assumption on the part of a critic of Homer, which generates an apparent contradiction.20 In Rhetoric 1.11, Aristotle says that the element of pleasure in anger is the expectation of revenge: “for no one feels anger with a person on whom it is manifestly21 impossible to get revenge, and people do not feel anger, or [they feel] little, with those much above them in power”22 (1370b13–15). Later in the chapter, he says: “And to be revenged is pleasant. For what is painful not to get is pleasant to get; and those 19

ὅς [sc. χόλος] τε πολὺ γλυκίων μέλιτος καταλειβομένοιο ἀνδρῶν ἐν στήθεσσιν ἀέξεται ἠΰτε καπνός. καρδίας γὰρ ἔπαρσιν εἶναι καὶ ὁρμὴν ἐγειρομένην τὴν ὀργήν ἀλλ’ ὅτε δὴ Μελέαγρον ἔδυ χόλος, ὅς τε καὶ ἄλλων οἰδάνει ἐν στήθεσσι νόον. 20

See Poet. 25.1461b1–9, discussed in chapter 1, section 2 (pp. 21–2). On taking φαινομεν- words in certain Rhetoric passages to mean ‘manifest(ly)’ and not ‘apparent(ly),’ see Grimaldi (1980, 253) and (1988, 21). 22 οὐδεὶς γὰρ ὀργίζεται τῷ ἀδυνάτῳ φαινομένῳ τιμωρίας τυχεῖν, οὐδὲ τοῖς πολὺ ὑπὲρ αὑτοὺς τῇ δυνάμει ἢ οὐκ ὀργίζονται ἢ ἧττον. 21

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 7/12/2018, SPi

82

Aristotle’s Lost Homeric Problems

who feel anger suffer pain immensely when they do not get revenge, but they enjoy anticipating it”23 (1370b29–32). Moreover, the entire opening of Rhetoric 2.2, defining anger and its cause, would fit perfectly into an account (and defense) of why, in Homer, anger shares in pleasure: Let anger be desire, with pain, for manifest vengeance for a manifest slight to oneself or one’s people, when such slighting is not fitting. If indeed this is anger, the one feeling anger must necessarily be angry with some particular individual, for instance with Cleon but not with man, and because he [i.e. this individual] or one of his people has done or was going to do something [of this sort]; and in every case of anger, a certain pleasure [must necessarily] follow, the [pleasure] from the expectation of avenging oneself. For thinking that one will attain what one aims at is pleasant, but no one aims at what is manifestly impossible for him, and the one feeling anger aims at what is possible for him. This is why it has been well said about spirit: Which is much sweeter than dripping honey, Grows in the breast of men. [Il. 18.109–10] For indeed, a certain pleasure accompanies [anger] because of this and also because they spend their time with the thought of being avenged; thus the image occurring then produces pleasure, just like the [pleasure] of dreams.24 (1378a30–b9)

Later in Rhetoric 2.2, in a discussion of anger and hubris (1378b26–1379a8), Aristotle quotes the Iliad four times (1.356, 9.648 [= 16.59], 2.196, 1.82), which is itself suggestive. Though one might

23 καὶ τὸ τιμωρεῖσθαι ἡδύ· οὗ γὰρ τὸ μὴ τυγχάνειν λυπηρόν, τὸ τυγχάνειν ἡδύ· οἱ δ’ ὀργιζόμενοι λυποῦνται ἀνυπερβλήτως μὴ τιμωρούμενοι, ἐλπίζοντες δὲ χαίρουσιν. 24 ἔστω δὴ ὀργὴ ὄρεξις μετὰ λύπης τιμωρίας φαινομένης διὰ φαινομένην ὀλιγωρίαν τῶν εἰς αὐτὸν ἤ τῶν αὐτοῦ ὀλιγωρεῖν μὴ προσηκόντων. εἰ δὴ τοῦτ’ ἐστὶν ἡ ὀργή, ἀνάγκη τὸν ὀργιζόμενον ὀργίζεσθαι αἰεὶ τῶν καθ’ ἕκαστόν τινι, οἷον Κλέωνι ἀλλ’ οὐκ ἀνθρώπῳ, καὶ ὅτι αὑτὸν ἢ τῶν αὑτοῦ τι πεποίηκεν ἢ ἔμελλεν, καὶ πάσῃ ὀργῇ ἕπεσθαί τινα ἡδονήν τὴν ἀπὸ τῆς ἐλπίδος τοῦ τιμωρήσασθαι· ἡδὺ μὲν γὰρ τὸ οἴεσθαι τεύξεσθαι ὧν ἐφίεται, οὐδεὶς δὲ τῶν φαινομένων ἀδυνάτων ἐφίεται αὑτῷ ὁ δὲ ὀργιζόμενος ἐφίεται δυνατῶν αὑτῷ. διὸ καλῶς εἴρηται περὶ θυμοῦ· ὅς τε πολὺ γλυκίων μέλιτος καταλειβομένοιο ἀνδρῶν ἐν στήθεσσιν ἀέξεται· ἀκολουθεῖ γὰρ καὶ ἡδονή τις διά τε τοῦτο καὶ διότι διατρίβουσιν ἐν τῷ τιμωρεῖσθαι τῇ διανοίᾳ· ἡ οὖν τότε γινομένη φαντασία ἡδονὴν ἐμποιεῖ, ὥσπερ ἡ τῶν ἐνυπνίων. (On this text, see Grimaldi (1988, 19–26), whom I follow (pace Kassel) in not bracketing ὁ δὲ ὀργιζόμενος . . . αὑτῷ.)

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 7/12/2018, SPi

The Evidence from the Rhetoric

83

speculate that this discussion paralleled one in the Homeric Problems, I could find no (additional) evidence supporting that possibility.

5.1.3. Anger 2 I proceed in a different order in treating the next text, beginning with the relevant Homeric passage from Odyssey 9, then turning to a passage in Eustathius before returning to the Rhetoric; and finally, I present three relevant fragments from the Homeric Problems. Odyssey 9 contains Odysseus’ account of his encounter with Polyphemus. Toward the end of that book, Odysseus reports that his companions tried to encourage him to stop taunting the Cyclops as they attempted to sail away (494–9). The passage that concerns us (three words of which are quoted in Rhet. 2.3) follows: So they spoke, but they could not persuade my great-hearted spirit [= anger, θυμόν]; but I addressed him again with a resentful spirit: “Cyclops, if any one of mortal men should ask you about the grievous blinding of your eye, say Odysseus, sacker of cities, blinded you . . . ”25 (500–4)

There is surprisingly little evidence of discussion among ancient Homeric scholars over why Odysseus—who is famously so clever— did not listen to his men.26 All I have found is this brief report from Eustathius on Odyssey 9.501 (1.359.1–2), though it is significant: The “resentful spirit” is a solution to a puzzle (λύσις ἀπορίας ἐστίν). For if someone asks: Why was he not persuaded by his friends, who advised 25

ὣς φάσαν, ἀλλ’ οὐ πεῖθον ἐμὸν μεγαλήτορα θυμόν, ἀλλά μιν ἄψορρον προσέφην κεκοτηότι θυμῷ· “Κύκλωψ, αἴ κέν τίς σε καταθνητῶν ἀνθρώπων ὀφθαλμοῦ εἴρηται ἀεικελίην ἀλαωτύν, φάσθαι Ὀδυσσῆα πτολιπόρθιον ἐξαλαῶσαι . . . ” 26 Cf. Heubeck and Hoekstra (1990, 39), on Od. 9.500–4: “In his first speech (475–9) Odysseus describes his action as the vengeance of Zeus and does not give his own name; now, in the moment of relief and to further his own κλέος, Odysseus claims authorship of the deed and gives his own name. By identifying himself Odysseus exposes himself to the curse which follows (528–35) . . . Odysseus does provoke the curse laid on him; but it is carelessness, not ὕβρις or a breach of a law, which requires punishment.”

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 7/12/2018, SPi

84

Aristotle’s Lost Homeric Problems

him well? one responds it is because of “resentful spirit.” And spirit [= anger] is good against an inhospitable man.27

The problem is clear: Why was Odysseus not persuaded by his friends? The solution is not. But I assume it was something along these lines: Normally, it would not be prudent to behave as Odysseus did. It is good, however, to avenge an injustice (especially unjust hospitality), driven by a resentful anger. Such anger is good. So (on this view) it does not count against Odysseus’ goodness or prudence to have acted in this way. In Rhetoric 2.3, the topic of which is calm (ἡ πραότης, τὸ πραΰνειν)— the opposite of anger, and what one feels when anger has subsided (1380a6–9)28—Aristotle says: And [people feel calm] unless they think that [the offender] will perceive through whom and for what they suffered; for anger is against the individual, and this is clear from the definition. This is why it was correctly written “say Odysseus, sacker of cities,” since he would not have been avenged, unless [Polyphemus] realized by whom and in return for what [he had been blinded].29 (1380b20–5)

I think it possible that Aristotle dealt with something like the puzzle referred to by Eustathius. Why did Odysseus not listen to the prudent advice of his companions? In brief: Because, Aristotle would have replied, Odysseus was justifiably angry at the murder of his companions, and so desired to get revenge against Polyphemus; but that vengeance required (as part of the pleasure involved) that the Cyclops know who it was that blinded him. The solution would again involve a false assumption on the part of the Homeric critic, namely, that it was irrational for Odysseus to tell Polyphemus his name. Aristotle would claim there was arguably a good reason (at least by the standards of a Homeric hero). The possibility that Aristotle attempted to solve this puzzle increases when one considers that Aristotle dealt in the Homeric 27 Τὸ δὲ “κεκοτηότι θυμῷ” λύσις ἀπορίας ἐστίν. ὡς γάρ τινος εἰπόντος διατί μὴ ἐπείσθη τοῖς φίλοις εὖ παραινοῦσι; φησὶν ὅτι διὰ “κεκοτηότι θυμῷ”. ἀγαθὸς δὲ ὁ θυμὸς κατὰ ἀνδρὸς κακοξένου. 28 In EN 4.11, however, it is a virtue (usually translated ‘mildness’): the mean between tendencies toward excessive or deficient anger. 29 καὶ ἐὰν μὴ αἰσθήσεσθαι οἴωνται ὅτι δι’ αὑτοὺς καὶ ἀνθ’ ὧν ἔπαθον· ἡ γὰρ ὀργὴ πρὸς τὸν καθ’ ἕκαστόν ἐστιν· δῆλον δ’ ἐκ τοῦ ὁρισμοῦ. διὸ ὀρθῶς πεποίηται “φάσθαι Ὀδυσσῆα πτολιπόρθιον”, ὡς οὐ τετιμωρημένος εἰ μὴ ᾔσθετο καὶ ὑφ’ ὅτου καὶ ἀνθ’ ὅτου. (Kassel brackets ἡ γὰρ ὀργὴ . . . ἐστιν, but I agree with Grimaldi (1988, 62) that that is unnecessary.)

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 7/12/2018, SPi

The Evidence from the Rhetoric

85

Problems with three other, related problems concerning Odysseus’ encounter with Polyphemus. In Odyssey 9, Odysseus describes to the Phaeacians the blinding of Polyphemus: first the plan to blind him (332–3), and then, in gory detail, the execution of that plan (382–97). This gave rise to a problem, to which (according to a couple of scholia) Aristotle had a solution: How come [Odysseus] did not fear the Phaeacians, descendants of Poseidon, when discussing the mutilation of the Cyclops? Aristotle, however, says that he knew they were themselves enemies [of the Cyclopes], “who used to plunder them” [Od. 6.6].30 (Schol. M Od. 9.333 = fr. 173.2 Rose/396.1 Gigon)

Toward the end of Odyssey 9, still describing his continued taunting of the blinded Polyphemus, Odysseus says that not even the Cyclops’ father, Poseidon, will heal his eye (9.525). This verse raised two questions similar to the one that concerns us, and again, in each case Aristotle had an answer to it: Why did Odysseus so mindlessly belittle Poseidon by his words to the Cyclops, saying “that no one will heal your eye, not even the Earthshaker” [9.525]? Antisthenes says it is because he knows that Poseidon was not a doctor, rather Apollo was; whereas Aristotle [says] it is not that [Odysseus thinks Poseidon] would not be able [to heal the eye], but that he would not want to because of the wickedness of the Cyclops.31 (Schol. H Od. 9.525c = fr. 174.1 Rose/397.1 Gigon)

The next text seems to be a follow up to the previous one, focusing on Poseidon’s anger rather than on Odysseus’: Why then is Poseidon enraged, although he is not angry because of the harsh phrase but because of the blinding? For [Homer says] “he is enraged because of the Cyclops, whose eye [Odysseus] blinded” [1.69], although he [i.e. Polyphemus] was wicked and devoured the companions. Aristotle solved [the problem] saying that [what is owed] πῶς οὐκ ἐδεδίει τοὺς ἐκγόνους Ποσειδῶνος Φαίακας τὴν πήρωσιν λέγων Κύκλωπος; Ἀριστοτέλης οὖν φησὶν ὅτι ᾔδει ἐχθροὺς ὄντας αὐτοῖς “οἵ σφεας σινέσκοντο”. Cf. schol. H Od. 9.345 = fr. 173.1 Rose/396.2 Gigon, a slightly different version (with a longer quotation, namely, Od. 6.4–8). 31 διὰ τί Ὀδυσσεὺς πρὸς τὸν κύκλωπα οὕτως ἀνοήτως εἰς τὸν Ποσειδῶνα ὠλιγώρησεν τῷ λόγῳ εἰπὼν “ὡς οὐκ ὀφθαλμόν γ’ ἰήσεται οὐδ’ ἐνοσίχθων”; Ἀντισθένης μέν φησι διὰ τὸ εἰδέναι ὅτι οὐκ ἦν ἰατρὸς ὁ Ποσειδῶν, ἀλλ’ ὁ Ἀπόλλων· Ἀριστοτέλης δὲ οὐχ ὅτι οὐ δυνήσεται, ἀλλ’ ὅτι οὐ βουλήσεται διὰ τὴν πονηρίαν τοῦ Κύκλωπος. For commentary on this text, see Prince (2015, 654–6). 30

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 7/12/2018, SPi

86

Aristotle’s Lost Homeric Problems

to a free man in relation to a slave and to a slave in relation to a free man is not the same, nor is [what is owed] to those who are close to the gods in relation to those who are far from [them]. Now the Cyclops was deserving of a punishment, but he was not to be chastised by Odysseus, but by Poseidon, if it is lawful everywhere to help a son who has been harmed. And the companions began the injustice.32 (Schol. H Od. 9.525d = fr. 174.2 Rose/397.2 Gigon)

Once again, his solution seems to involve (in part) pointing out the false assumption of the Homeric critic that in fact creates the problem. One might wonder why Aristotle would defend Homer’s portrayal of the angry actions of Odysseus (or Achilles, for that matter), given that he does not seem to be acting in a way consistent with what Aristotle says about practical wisdom and anger in his ethical writings (see e.g. EN 3.6–9). Recall that Aristotle, however, discusses just such an issue in the Poetics, making clear the difference between ethical and esthetic evaluation. For example, he says toward the beginning of Poetics 25 that the poet “is necessarily always representing some one of three things in number: either the sorts of thing that were or are, or the sorts of thing [people] say or think [were or are], or the sorts of thing that ought to be” (1460b8–11). His point is that it is not a legitimate esthetic criticism of Homer if he portrays a hero doing what he ought not to do (according to some philosopher, even Aristotle himself), as long as the hero is at least portrayed doing what is or was held to be what one ought to do.

5.1.4. Indignation The topic of Rhetoric 2.9 is indignation (νέμεσις, τὸ νεμεσᾶν). In a survey of the causes of indignation, and the people toward whom it is felt, Aristotle writes (1387a32–5): And the inferior contending with the superior [is worthy of indignation], especially for those [involved] in the same thing,33 for which reason in fact [Homer] had said this [Il. 11.542–3]: 32 διὰ τί οὖν ὁ Ποσειδῶν ὠργίσθη, καίτοι μὴ χαλεπαίνων διὰ τὸ ἀπόφθεγμα, ἀλλὰ διὰ τὴν τύφλωσιν; “Κύκλωπος” γὰρ “κεχόλωται, ὃν ὀφθαλμοῦ ἀλάωσεν”, καίπερ πονηροῦ ὄντος καὶ τοὺς ἑταίρους κατεσθίοντος. λύων δὲ ὁ Ἀριστοτέλης φησὶ μὴ ταυτὸν εἶναι ἐλευθέρῳ πρὸς δοῦλον καὶ δούλῳ πρὸς ἐλεύθερον, οὐδὲ τοῖς ἐγγὺς τῶν θεῶν οὖσι πρὸς τοὺς ἄποθεν. ὁ δὲ Κύκλωψ ἦν μὲν ζημίας ἄξιος, ἀλλ’ οὐκ Ὀδυσσεῖ κολαστέος, ἀλλὰ τῷ Ποσειδῶνι, εἰ πανταχοῦ νόμιμον τῷ φθειρομένῳ βοηθεῖν τῷ υἱῷ, καὶ ἦρχον ἀδικίας οἱ ἑταῖροι. 33 Grimaldi (1988, 160): “the very thing which defines their inferiority.”

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 7/12/2018, SPi

The Evidence from the Rhetoric

87

But [Hector]34 shrank from battle with Ajax, son of Telamon, for Zeus was indignant with him, that he would fight with a better man.35

This second verse is not part of the manuscript tradition;36 however, two later sources quote it.37 Discussing the proper portrayal of Zeus, Plutarch, How the Young Should Listen to Poetry 14, writes: “But where there is what is fitting and according to reason and probable, there we are to hold that god is named properly, just as in these cases”38 (Mor. 24B–C). He then presents two examples: Iliad 11.540, 542–3 (543 being the verse not supported by the paradosis), and a pair of verses from an unidentified tragedy (which is not relevant here). Later (Mor. 36A) he quotes line 543 again and says that it is no different from the maxim “know thyself.”39 PseudoPlutarch, On the Life and Poetry of Homer 132, states that the Aristotelians held indignation and pity to be refined emotions,40 and then adds that Homer approves of these too, providing an example for each emotion. Il. 11.542–3 is his example of a positive appraisal of indignation. Hainsworth (1993, 282) points out that line 543 “is ignored by the scholia.” This seems to be true (and it was ignored by Eustathius as well); but there is a pair of related scholia that connect line 542 with the saying γνῶθι σαυτόν, as Plutarch had done with line 543.41 That arguably indicates knowledge of line 543. 34 One may be surprised to hear Hector characterized in this way, but note Hainsworth (1993, 282): “The duel in book 7 has shown that he is no match in fair fight for Aias.” 35 καὶ [sc. ἐστὶ νεμεσητόν] ⟨τὸ⟩ τὸν ἥττω τῷ κρείττονι ἀμφισβητεῖν, μάλιστα μὲν οὖν τοὺς ἐν τῷ αὐτῷ, ὅθεν καὶ τοῦτ’ εἴρηται·

Αἴαντος δ’ ἀλέεινε μάχην Τελαμωνιάδαο· Ζεὺς γὰρ οἱ νεμέσασχ’, ὅτ’ ἀμείνονι φωτὶ μάχοιτο. 36

See Hainsworth (1993, 282). With minor variations: Whereas Aristotle has νεμέσασχ’, Plutarch has νεμεσᾷ and ps.-Plutarch νεμεσᾶθ’. All three are sound metrically, though Aristotle’s is the superior text. (Also, Plutarch has τοι in place of οἱ.) 38 ὅπου δὲ τὸ προσῆκον καὶ κατὰ λόγον καὶ εἰκός ἐστιν, ἐνταῦθα κυρίως ὀνομάζεσθαι τὸν θεὸν νομίζωμεν, ὥσπερ ἐν τούτοις. 39 οὐδὲν διαφέρει τοῦ “γνῶθι σαυτόν”. 40 τῶν περὶ Ἀριστοτέλην ἀστεῖα πάθη ἡγουμένων τὴν νέμεσιν καὶ τὸν ἔλεον κτλ. 41 Schol. T Il. 11.542a1: “Αἴαντος δ’ ἀλέεινε μάχην”: ἐντεῦθεν τὸ “γνῶθι σαυτόν”. δῆλον οὖν ὡς τοὺς ἀρίστους περιϊστάμενος ἐχώρει, καίτοι τοῦ Διὸς περὶ μόνου Ἀγαμέμνονος εἰπόντος (Il. 11.187–9). Schol. b Il. 11.542a2: ἐντεῦθεν φαίνεται τὸ “γνῶθι σαυτόν” δῆλον γὰρ ὡς πάντας τοὺς ἀρίστους σκοπῶν ὑπεχώρει, καίτοι Διὸς περὶ μόνου εἰπόντος Ἀγαμέμνονος. 37

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 7/12/2018, SPi

88

Aristotle’s Lost Homeric Problems

The authenticity of Iliad 11.543 is still disputed by modern scholars, though most reject it. For instance, West (1998) brackets 540–2, and omits 543 (referring to it as “a subsidiary interpolation”);42 and Wilamowitz (1916, 192 n. 1) and Hainsworth (1993, 282) both reject 543. Van der Valk;, however, defends its authenticity, and his reasoning is worth quoting:43 The line is attested by three different testimonies which are independent of one another.44 First we have the testimony of Aristotle, Rhet. II 1387a, 34. If this testimony were an isolated one, I would not trust it, since Aristotle’s quotations are often unreliable, as we have seen before (see Ch. XII) . . . 45 It would be strange, if three testimonies should all have made use of a falsified text. In my opinion, Arist[archus] cancelled the line for two reasons. 1 He took exception to the fact that the idea of νεμεσᾶν was connected with the highest god, just as he seems to have cancelled [Il. 20.]135 (see p. 509), because the idea expressed in it seemed to be unbecoming when applied to a god. 2 The line can be omitted without damage to the context and can thus be reckoned among the στίχοι περιττοί [i.e. additional or superfluous lines]. (1963, 2: 525)

Whether or not it is in fact authentic, I find it entirely plausible that Iliad 11.543 was the subject of debate in antiquity, and that Aristotle defended its propriety and authenticity in the Homeric Problems (in a way hinted at in Rhet. 2.9.1387a31–4). To the possible objection that the gods (as conceived by the philosophers, including Aristotle) would not have acted this way (or concerned themselves with humans at all), we know Aristotle’s reply: some problems can be solved on the grounds that people think it is so, “for instance the things [said] about the gods.”46

42

See also West (2011, 257) and Monro (1884, 343). This passage comes from ch. 13b: The So-Called Additional Lines. 44 I think it quite possible that ps.-Plutarch is in one way or another dependent on Aristotle, given that the context of §132 is “the Aristotelians” on indignation and pity. Keaney and Lamberton are more confident (1996, 209 n. 1): “the clear reference here is to Rhetoric 1386b (2.9.1–2).” 45 Ch. 12 is titled: The Homeric Quotations or the Indirect Tradition of the Homeric Text. I omit van der Valk’s references at this point to the passages in Plutarch and ps.-Plutarch. 46 See Poet. 25.1460b35–1461a1, discussed in chapter 1, section 2 (pp. 14–15). 43

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 7/12/2018, SPi

The Evidence from the Rhetoric

89

5.2. LITERARY STYLE Recall that toward the beginning of Poetics 25, Aristotle writes that what the poet presents is “expressed in language [λέξις] in which there are foreign tongues [or ‘dialects’] and metaphors and many modifications of language; for we grant these to poets” (1460b11–13). He is making it clear at the outset—in a chapter on how to deal with Homeric problems—that the fact that the language of Homer (and poets generally) is artificial and does not reflect normal usage cannot be held against the poet. Later in the same chapter, in laying out specific strategies for dealing with Homeric problems, he writes that “some should be solved by looking at language” (1461a9–10). The Homeric passages from Rhetoric 3 that I discuss in this part of the chapter all possibly or likely reflect Aristotle’s attempts in his Homeric Problems to solve problems by “looking at language.” Or so I shall argue.47

5.2.1. Epithets Rhetoric 3.348 opens: “Frigidities in language [or ‘style’] come in four [forms]”49 (1405b34). The third form comes in the use of epithets (τὰ ἐπίθετα): “using ones that are long or poorly timed or crowded; for in poetry it is appropriate to say ‘white milk,’ but in prose it is more inappropriate”50 (1406a10–13). Aristotle goes on to discuss the inappropriateness of epithets in prose, but says nothing more about their appropriateness in poetry. The example Aristotle gives here is from Homer: “white milk” (γάλα λευκόν) appears twice in the Iliad: In Iliad 4, the Trojans are compared to sheep waiting to be drained of their white milk (434); in 47 I discuss them not in the order in which they are found in the Rhetoric, but in the ascending likelihood (as I see it) that they reflect what Aristotle said in the Homeric Problems. 48 On the discussion of epithets in the Homeric scholia, see Nünlist (2009, ch. 15). 49 τὰ δὲ ψυχρὰ ἐν τέτταρσι γίνεται κατὰ τὴν λέξιν. Cope writes of ψυχρά: “expressions stale and cold, flat, lifeless, opposed to προσφάτα ‘fresh’ ” (1877, 36). According to [Demetr.] Eloc. 114 (= Thphr. fr. 686 FHS&G), Theophrastus says that “frigid is that which exceeds the proper mode of expression” (ψυχρόν ἐστι τὸ ὑπερβάλλον τὴν οἰκείαν ἀπαγγελίαν). See Fortenbaugh (2005, 279–81). 50 τρίτον δ’ ἐν τοῖς ἐπιθέτοις τὸ ἢ μακροῖς ἢ ἀκαίροις ἢ πυκνοῖς χρῆσθαι· ἐν μὲν γὰρ ποιήσει πρέπει “γάλα λευκὸν” εἰπεῖν, ἐν δὲ λόγῳ τὰ μὲν ἀπρεπέστερα.

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 7/12/2018, SPi

90

Aristotle’s Lost Homeric Problems

Iliad 5, Paiëon is said to have healed Ares as fast as fig juice curdles white milk (902). Aristotle presumably classifies this as an epithet, because ‘white’ is an addition to ‘milk’ which would be unnecessary (and odd) in normal speech. There is at least some reason to think that this brief remark in Rhetoric 3.3 might reflect something Aristotle discussed in his Homeric Problems. Porphyry reports: “Some criticize such additions as superfluous: ‘white milk’; for what milk is black? ‘a dug trench’ [Il. 8.179, 9.67, 20.49]; for how [else] would a trench come to be? ‘liquid olive oil’ [Il. 23.281, Od. 6.79, 6.215, 7.107]; for when would it be solid?”51 He mentions three others and then proceeds to discuss why in each case the epithets are not superfluous, thus defending Homer. In the case of ‘white milk’ he writes merely: “because it does not receive a shadow.”52 Similarly, Plutarch, in Table Talk 6, Problem 9, asks: “Why does the poet use special epithets for all the liquids, whereas olive oil alone he calls ‘liquid’?”53 Plutarch proceeds to defend and explain Homer’s word choice; and in doing so, he writes that Homer calls milk ‘white’ because it, more than anything else, is white through and through, with no mixture of its opposite.54 Plutarch then uses this to defend ‘liquid olive oil,’ for olive oil, he says, is more liquid than any other liquid. (It is unclear what he means by this.) On the one hand, we know for a fact that Aristotle discussed in his Homeric Problems problems raised about epithets;55 on the other, αἰτιῶνταί τινες τὰς τοιαύτας προσθήκας ὡς περιττάς·“γάλα λευκόν”· ποῖον γὰρ γάλα μέλαν; “τάφρον ὀρυκτήν”· πῶς γὰρ ἂν γένοιτο τάφρος; “ὑγρὸν ἔλαιον”· σκληρὸν γὰρ πότ’ ἂν γένοιτο; (HQI p. 86 MacPhail). On epithets as superfluous, see Nünlist (2009, 303–4). 52 τὸ δὲ “γάλα λευκόν”, ὅτι σκιὰν οὐκ ἐπιδέχεται (HQI p. 86 MacPhail). Cf. schol. T Il. 5.902 (λευκὸν δὲ γάλα τὸ μὴ ποιοῦν σκιάν) and schol. Ge Il. 4.434 (Nicole) (λευκὸν δὲ διὰ τὸ μὴ ἀποτελεῖν σκιὰν, ἢ αὐτὴν τὴν φύσιν εἶπεν). See also the extant first book of Porphyry’s Homeric Questions on the Iliad (§49 Sodano), and especially: ἡ Ἀθηνᾶ “γλαυκῶπις” ἀπὸ τοῦ γάλακτος, ὅ ἐστιν ἄσκιον καὶ διὰ τοῦτο λευκόν, ὑπ’ αὐτοῦ εἴρηται· μέλαινα γὰρ ἡ σκιά. 53 Διὰ τί ὁ ποιητὴς ἐπὶ μὲν τῶν ἄλλων ὑγρῶν τοῖς ἰδίοις ἐπιθέτοις χρῆται, μόνον δὲ τὸ ἔλαιον ὑγρὸν καλεῖ; (Mor. 695E). The ‘chapter’ proper begins: ἠπορήθη ποτὲ (“The puzzle/problem was once raised . . . ”). 54 λευκότατον τὸ δι’ ὅλου λευκόν, δι’ ὅλου δὲ τοιοῦτόν ἐστιν, ᾧ μηδὲν ἐμμέμικται τῆς ἐναντίας φύσεως (Mor. 695F). 55 For instance: The epithet αὐδήεσσα appears five times in the Odyssey (never in the Iliad), in every case applied to a minor female divinity, referring to her ability to speak to mortals: Ino (5.334), Circe (10.136, 11.8, 12.150), and Calypso (12.449). This gave rise to a Homeric problem: Why does Homer (explicitly) attribute speech or voice to these three alone, when the other gods and goddesses are endowed with 51

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 7/12/2018, SPi

The Evidence from the Rhetoric

91

there is virtually no indication as to what he might have said on the subject in the present case (or what kind of solution he offered for which kind of problem)—except that he approved of the epithet ‘white milk,’ and perhaps he approved of such (apparently superfluous) Homeric epithets generally.56

5.2.2. Asyndeton and Repetition Asyndeton and repetition count as modifications of speech. There is an infamous ‘entry’ in the Catalogue of Ships which makes use of both of these stylistic features (Il. 2.671–5): speech as well? Aristotle sidestepped the problem (Porphyry does not consider this a solution to it) through emendation. Here is schol. EHP1TX (Porphyry) Od. 5.334e (= fr.171.1 Rose; cf. 394 Gigon): ‘a mortal endowed with speech’: Aristotle inquires, why [Homer] says Calypso and Circe and Ino alone are ‘endowed with speech’. For all the other [goddesses] as well had a voice. And he did not want to solve [this problem], but sometimes changed [αὐδηέσσα] to αὐλήεσσα, from which he says it is revealed that they were solitary, but in the case of Ino [he changed it to] οὐδήεσσα; in fact, this [term] applies to all [three] and to them alone, for these [goddesses] all dwelt on Earth. βροτὸς αὐδήεσσα: ζητεῖ Ἀριστοτέλης, διὰ τί τὴν Καλυψὼ καὶ τὴν Κίρκην καὶ τὴν Ἰνὼ “αὐδηέσσας” λέγει μόνας. πᾶσαι γὰρ καὶ αἱ ἄλλαι φωνὴν εἶχον. καὶ λῦσαι μὲν οὐ βεβούληται, μεταγράφει δὲ ποτὲ μὲν εἰς τὸ “αὐλήεσσα”, ἐξ οὗ δηλοῦσθαί φησιν ὅτι μονώδεις ἦσαν, ἐπὶ δὲ τῆς Ἰνοῦς “οὐδήεσσα”· τοῦτο γὰρ πάσαις ὑπῆρχεν αὐταῖς καὶ μόναις, πᾶσαι γὰρ αὗται ἐπὶ γῆς ᾤκουν. See the other relevant scholia on Od. 5.334 and 10.136, as well as Eustathius Od. 5.334 (1.228.28–32). αὐδηέσσα (αὐδή + the suffix -εσσα) means ‘endowed with speech.’ (Re the suffix -εσσα: -(ϝ)εις, -(ϝ)εσσα, -(ϝ)εν means ‘endowed with x’ or ‘possessing x.’ See Colvin (2007, 14).) Aristotle objected to all five occurrences of αὐδηέσσα, I assume for the reasons stated: it would seem to imply that the other gods are not capable of speaking (which is not consistent with traditional mythology generally nor with Homeric epic in particular). Aristotle dealt with this by changing αὐδηέσσα to αὐλήεσσα or οὐδήεσσα. Now an αὐλή is a courtyard and enclosure for livestock, though it eventually came to refer to any hall or abode. So αὐλήεσσα should mean ‘possessing an αὐλή.’ But Aristotle seems to have intended it to mean ‘living in an enclosure’ (so as to be isolated from others, especially from other gods?), for he takes it to imply that one who is αὐλήεσσα is thereby μονώδεις (a hapax legomenon, meaning ‘solitary’). In the case of Ino—that is, at Od. 5.334—Aristotle replaces αὐδηέσσα with οὐδήεσσα (again, a difference of one letter), which should mean ‘possessing οὖδας (earth, ground, soil)’ though Aristotle takes or intends it to mean living on earth. (See the discussion of this passage in Hintenlang (1961, 89–93) and Bouchard (2016, 78–81). I am not qualified to comment on the propriety of taking any Greek noun (here αὐλή and οὖδας) and attaching -εσσα to it to form a new word.) 56 Aside from his discussion of epithets in Rhet. 3.3.1406a10–b5, see his brief remarks on them in Rhet. 3.2 (1405a10–11 and b20–3). And see chapter 6, section 2 (p. 110), on ornaments.

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 7/12/2018, SPi

92

Aristotle’s Lost Homeric Problems Nireus from Syme57 led three well-balanced ships, Nireus, son of Aglaïa and lord Charops,58 Nireus, the most beautiful man who came beneath Ilios of all the Danaans after the noble son of Peleus; but he was weak, and few people followed him.59

Even if we had no other evidence concerning ancient discussion about this set of verses, I think we would be justified in speculating that it was discussed by ancient Homeric scholars, given its unusual nature: Nowhere else in Homer do three lines in a row begin with the same name. One can well imagine ancient scholars puzzling over the following related questions: Why did Homer employ the repetition of the name of one of the leaders? And why did he employ the repetition of the name of this leader—a minor figure whom he goes on in this passage to belittle, and then never mentions again?60 And indeed, the passage did receive a lot of attention in antiquity, though the analysis is not always as deep or as critical as one might have expected. First, there were the usual Alexandrian discussions about which lines to athetize or omit. Zenodotus thought that only the first two lines (Il. 2.671–2) were genuine, as he athetized 673 and 675, and omitted 674 altogether.61 There were also numerous (often facile) comments that emphasized the effectiveness of the repetition of the name with a view to preserving the memory of (the otherwise forgettable) Nireus, but did not account for why Homer would bother 57 58

A small island northwest of Rhodes. Aglaïa means ‘splendid,’ ‘beautiful’ and Charops means ‘bright eyes.’

59

Νιρεὺς αὖ Σύμηθεν ἄγε τρεῖς νῆας ἐΐσας Νιρεὺς Ἀγλαΐης υἱὸς Χαρόποιό τ’ ἄνακτος Νιρεύς, ὃς κάλλιστος ἀνὴρ ὑπὸ Ἴλιον ἦλθε τῶν ἄλλων Δαναῶν μετ’ ἀμύμονα Πηλεΐωνα ἀλλ’ ἀλαπαδνὸς ἔην, παῦρος δέ οἱ εἵπετο λαός. West brackets the fourth verse (674); see West (2011, 119). 60 Such a mnemonic would perhaps be understandable if Nireus were the only person listed who is never mentioned again, but that is certainly not the case: see Hope Simpson and Lazenby (1970, 159). 61 Schol. A Il. 2.673: “Νιρεὺς ὃς κάλλιστος”: τρισὶ στίχοις παράκεινται διπλαῖ περιεστιγμέναι, ὅτι ἐκ τῶν τριῶν τοὺς δύο ἠθέτηκε Ζηνόδοτος, τὸν δὲ μέσον οὐδὲ ἔγραφεν, τοῦ Ὁμήρου φιλοτιμουμένου ἐν πᾶσι τὸν Ἀχιλλέα προτεροῦντα στῆσαι. Cf. Eust. Il. 2.671–5 (1.493.26–494.10). See Kirk (1985, 227). Note, however, that as van der Valk points out, in the Catalogue of Ships Zenodotus “athetised or omitted all the lines which did not strictly concern the enumeration of the parts of the army” (1963, 2:40 n. 171).

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 7/12/2018, SPi

The Evidence from the Rhetoric

93

immortalizing such a weak leader from an insignificant island.62 Similarly, one D scholium comments: “Now here [Homer] thrice having named Nireus did not further mention him. And he provides the explanation for this, saying: ‘but he was weak, and few people followed him.’”63 This verse might explain why Nireus was never mentioned again, but why was he mentioned in this way in the first place? The same could be said about Eustathius’ claim (or report about ancient claims) that, to understand this passage, one must consider Homer’s love of truth, for though he loves the Greeks he does not conceal their defects.64 But again, even if the Catalogue of Ships is meant to be a warts and all ‘historical’ presentation of the Greek army,65 why make use of this unusual repetition of the name Nireus? A more interesting (and promising) suggestion or comment comes from Galen, who speculates that Homer included this unusual presentation of his one mention of Nireus, whom he contrasts with Achilles, “to demonstrate . . . the uselessness of beautiful men, when none of the other useful things for life belong to them”66 (Protrepticus 8). What about Aristotle? In Rhetoric 3.12 (on stylistic differences between a written work and debate speech)67 he writes that “asyndeta and frequently saying the same thing are rightly rejected in writing,

62

See e.g. [Demetr.] Eloc. 61–2 and [Plu.] Vit.Hom. [B] 33. Schol. D Il. 2.673: “Νειρεὺς δ’ αὖ Σύμηθεν”: Ἀπὸ Αἰσύμης. Ἐνταῦθα δὲ τρὶς ὀνομάσας τὸν Νειρέα, οὐκ ἔτι αὐτοῦ ἐμνήσθη. καὶ τούτου αὐτὸς τὴν αἰτίαν παραδίδωσιν λέγων “Ἀλλ’ ἀλαπαδνὸς ἔην· παῦρος δέ οἱ εἵπετο λαός”. 64 Eust. Il. 2.671–5 (1.494.1–3): ἔνθα θεωρητέον τὸ φιλάληθες τοῦ ποιητοῦ, ναὶ μέντοι καὶ τὴν τοῦ πιθανοῦ πραγματείαν, δι’ ἥν, εἰ καὶ φιλέλλην ἐστὶν, ἀλλ’ οὐκ ἐπικρύπτει τὰ τῶν Δαναῶν ἐλαττώματα, εἴ που καί εἰσι. 65 Shortly before the passage quoted in the previous note, Eustathius says that Homer (in the verses on Nireus) proceeds ἱστορικῶς (493.27). See Hope Simpson and Lazenby (1970, 124). 66 καὶ γὰρ ὁ Νιρεὺς “κάλλιστος μὲν ἀνὴρ ὑπὸ Ἴλιον ἦλθεν, ἀλλ’ ἀλαπαδνὸς ἔην”, καὶ διὰ τοῦθ’ ἅπαξ αὐτοῦ μόνον ἐμνημόνευσεν Ὅμηρος ἐν νεῶν καταλόγῳ πρὸς ἐπίδειξιν, ἐμοὶ δοκεῖν, τῆς τῶν καλλίστων ἀνδρῶν ἀχρηστίας, ὅταν αὐτοῖς ὑπάρχῃ μηδὲν ἄλλο τῶν εἰς τὸν βίον χρησίμων. Cf. schol. b Il. 2.673–4: οὐδὲ ἓν πρὸς δόξαν κάλλος ἀγεννές· Ἀχιλλεὺς δὲ ἀμφοτέροις κεκόσμηται. φιλέλλην δὲ ὢν πάντας ἀξιομνήστους ποιεῖ καὶ πάντας ἐπαινεῖ, ὅπως πιστεύοιτο, καὶ ἵνα τοὺς ἐν ἀνδρείᾳ καὶ σώματι καὶ κάλλει διαφέροντας εἰδῶμεν Ἕλληνας. See also Antisthenes fr. 32b Decleva Caizzi (SSR 199 = Olymp. in Pl. Alcib. 28.18–25 (pp. 20–1 Westerink)), Philodemus, On the Good King according to Homer col. 37 (Dorandi), and Lucian, DMort. 30 (in which Menippus, in Hades, judges a beauty contest between Nireus and Thersites). 67 I.e. between γραφική [sc. λέχις] καὶ ἀγωνιστική (Rhet. 3.12.1413b4). 63

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 7/12/2018, SPi

94

Aristotle’s Lost Homeric Problems

but not in debate, and so the orators do use [them]; for they are dramatic”68 (1413b19–22). He elaborates on this, focusing on the Nireus passage: Further, asyndeta have a certain special property; for [in using them] many things seem to be said in an equal time [in which one thing is said], since the conjunction makes many things one, such that if it is removed it is clear that in the opposite way the one will be many. Therefore, [asyndeton] involves magnification: “I came, I spoke, I implored.” †[One] seems to overlook however many things [the speaker] said.†69 And Homer too intended to do this in the [passage] “Nireus from Syme,” “Nireus son of Aglaia,” “Nireus, the most beautiful.” For one about whom many things are said must also necessarily be mentioned often; therefore, [people] also [think that] if [a person is mentioned] often, it seems as if many things too [have been said], so that by means of this fallacy,70 [Homer] magnified [Nireus], though he mentioned [him] once [i.e. in only one passage], and so produced a memory, though he nowhere presents an account of him again.71 (1413b31–1414a6)

Once again, I think there is good reason to believe that Aristotle discussed this strange passage in his Homeric Problems, and that what he said there included or reflects what he says here in the Rhetoric. Unfortunately, it remains unclear to me what his explanation might have been for applying these literary devices in the case of the Nireus passage. One possibility is that his account was fundamentally the same as the one Galen later made: Why did Homer employ the repetition of the name Nireus? To emphasize the point that physical 68 τά τε ἀσύνδετα καὶ τὸ πολλάκις τὸ αὐτὸ εἰπεῖν ἐν τῇ γραφικῇ ὀρθῶς ἀποδοκιμάζεται, ἐν δὲ ἀγωνιστικῇ οὔ, καὶ οἱ ῥήτορες χρῶνται· ἔστι γὰρ ὑποκριτική. Abraham Lincoln’s Gettysburg Address contains a famous American example of asyndeton combined with repetition: “government of the people, by the people, for the people . . . ” 69 There is a problem with the text. See note 71, and Kassel’s app. crit. ad loc. 70 I.e. illicit conversion (e.g. all A are B, therefore all B are A): see Poet. 24.1460a18–26 (discussed in chapter 3, section 2 (pp. 43–4)) and Soph. El. 5.167b1–20. 71 ἔτι ἔχει ἴδιόν τι τὰ ἀσύνδετα· ἐν ἴσῳ γὰρ χρόνῳ πολλὰ δοκεῖ εἰρῆσθαι· ὁ γὰρ σύνδεσμος ἓν ποιεῖ τὰ πολλά, ὥστε ἐὰν ἐξαιρεθῇ, δῆλον ὅτι τοὐναντίον ἔσται τὸ ἓν πολλά. ἔχει οὖν αὔξησιν· “ἦλθον, διελέχθην, ἱκέτευσα”. †πολλὰ δοκεῖ ὑπεριδεῖν ὅσα εἶπεν.† τοῦτο δὲ βούλεται ποιεῖν καὶ Ὅμηρος ἐν τῷ “Νιρεὺς αὖ Σύμηθεν”, “Νιρεὺς Ἀγλαΐης”, “Νιρεὺς ὃς κάλλιστος”. περὶ οὗ γὰρ πολλὰ λέγεται, ἀνάγκη καὶ πολλάκις εἰρῆσθαι· εἰ οὖν καὶ πολλάκις, καὶ πολλὰ δοκεῖ, ὥστε ηὔξηκεν ἅπαξ μνησθεὶς διὰ τὸν παραλογισμόν, καὶ μνήμην πεποίηκεν, οὐδαμοῦ ὕστερον αὐτοῦ λόγον ποιησάμενος. Kassel prints “ἱκέτευσα (πολλὰ δοκεῖ), ‘ὑπεριδεῖν ὅσα εἶπεν’ ” (without obeli, which I have added).

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 7/12/2018, SPi

The Evidence from the Rhetoric

95

beauty is a good, but not a particularly important one (especially when the most important ones are lacking).72 But if this was the case, it is unclear what kind of solution Aristotle was employing—unless it was that Homeric scholars have come to this passage with a false assumption (namely, that there is no reason to underscore the name of a person like Nireus). Another possibility is that Aristotle was critical of this passage. He clearly held that one should defend Homer if at all possible (that is certainly the tenor of Poetics 25, and of the fragments of the Homeric Problems taken as a whole). Nevertheless, he is on occasion critical.73 I think it possible that in the Nireus passage in Rhetoric 3.12, Aristotle is in part hinting at a criticism of Homer’s logic: he commits the fallacy of illicit conversion, thus creating the false impression that Nireus was significant. The difficulty with this suggestion, however, is that it is unclear how such a criticism would have fitted into his Homeric Problems.

5.2.3. Metaphors Aristotle devotes a fair amount of space to metaphor74 in his Poetics and Rhetoric.75 In Poetics 21, he says that “a metaphor [or ‘transference’] is an application of an alien name either (i) from genus to species, or (ii) from species to genus, or (iii) from species to species, or (iv) by analogy”76 (Poet. 21.1457b6–9). As Rapp (2010) notes: “Most of the examples Aristotle offers for types (i) to (iii) would not be regarded as metaphors in the modern sense; rather they would fall under the headings of metonymy or synecdoche. The examples offered for type (iv) are more like modern metaphors.” In any case, 72 See Rhet. 1.5 (esp. 1360b19–29 and 1361b7–14) and EN 1.8 (esp. 1098b12–16 and 1099a32–b6). 73 According to Eustathius, Aristotle criticized the logic behind at least one recognition scene involving Odysseus’ scar (Od. 19.472 (2.213.29–30); not in Gigon or Rose). I discuss this text in chapter 3, section 2. For a few more examples, see Apfel (1938, 256–7). 74 I presented a paper on the material in this section at the conference Aristotle 2400 Years (Aristotle University of Thessaloniki, May 2016), and am grateful for the feedback I received on that occasion. 75 The most important discussion is Poet. 21.1457b7–32. See also: Poet. 22.1458a23–31, 22.1459a5–14, 24.1459b35–7, 25.1461a17–22, and Rhet. 3.11 (cf. 3.4, on simile). See Rapp (2010), §8.2. 76 μεταφορὰ δέ ἐστιν ὀνόματος ἀλλοτρίου ἐπιφορὰ ἢ ἀπὸ τοῦ γένους ἐπὶ εἶδος ἢ ἀπὸ τοῦ εἴδους ἐπὶ τὸ γένος ἢ ἀπὸ τοῦ εἴδους ἐπὶ εἶδος ἢ κατὰ τὸ ἀνάλογον.

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 7/12/2018, SPi

96

Aristotle’s Lost Homeric Problems

Aristotle provides Homeric examples to illustrate two of these four kinds of metaphor (as I shall continue to call all four types):77 By “from genus to species” I mean, for instance, “here stands my ship” [Od. 1.185]; for lying at anchor is a sort of standing. And by “from species to genus” [I mean, for instance], “truly has Odysseus done ten thousand deeds of worth” [Il. 2.272]; for ten thousand is many, which [Homer] used here instead of “a lot.”78 (1457b9–13)

The first example is a genus-to-species metaphor, because Homer is using ‘standing’ (the genus) instead of the species of ‘standing’ one might expect here, namely, ‘lying-at-anchor.’ The second example is a species-to-genus metaphor, because Homer is using one species of ‘many,’ namely ‘ten thousand,’ in place of or to stand for the genus ‘many.’ Now we know that metaphors were also discussed in the Homeric Problems, because of Aristotle’s references to them among the fragmentary evidence for that work and in Poetics 25. In the latter, he discusses metaphors as one strategy for solving problems: Some things are said metaphorically, for instance, [Agamemnon says] “Now all the gods, and the men who were chariot lords, slept the whole night”; but at the same time [he says] “but when he gazed at the Trojan plain, [he wondered at] the sound of their auloi and pipes.”79 For “all” is said metaphorically, instead of “many”, since all is a lot. And “alone has no share” [Il. 18.489, Od. 5.275] is metaphorical, for what is best known is “only”.80 (1461a16–21)

77 Aristotle’s examples of the other two kinds of metaphor come from other authors. Homeric examples of species-to-species metaphor and analogous metaphor, however, are provided below in due course. 78 λέγω δὲ ἀπὸ γένους μὲν ἐπὶ εἶδος οἷον “νηῦς δέ μοι ἥδ’ ἕστηκεν”· τὸ γὰρ ὁρμεῖν ἐστιν ἑστάναι τι. ἀπ’ εἴδους δὲ ἐπὶ γένος “ἦ δὴ μυρί’ Ὀδυσσεὺς ἐσθλὰ ἔοργεν”· τὸ γὰρ μυρίον πολύ ἐστιν, ᾧ νῦν ἀντὶ τοῦ πολλοῦ κέχρηται. 79 Tarán and Gutas (2012, 299): “There is no question that Aristotle meant to quote Iliad 10, 1–2 (ἄλλοι μὲν παρὰ νηυσὶν ἀριστῆρες Παναχαιῶν | εὗδον παννύχιοι), since he immediately relates this passage (ἅμα δέ φησιν) to Iliad 10, 11 and part of 13 (ἤτοι ὅτ’ ἐς πεδίον τὸ Τρωϊκὸν ἀθρήσειε | . . . | αὐλῶν συρίγγων τ’ ἐνοπὴν ὅμαδoν). But, as Bywater says, he seems to have mixed up 10, 1–2 with 2, 1–2: ἄλλοι μέν ῥα θεοί τε καὶ ἀνέρες ἱπποκορυσταὶ | εὗδον παννύχιοι.” 80 τὰ δὲ κατὰ μεταφορὰν εἴρηται, οἷον “πάντες μέν ῥα θεοί τε καὶ ἀνέρες ἱπποκορυσταὶ εὗδον παννύχιοι”· ἅμα δέ φησιν “ἦ τοι ὅτ’ ἐς πεδίον τὸ Τρωικὸν ἀθρήσειεν, αὐλῶν συρίγγων τε ὅμαδον”· τὸ γὰρ πάντες ἀντὶ τοῦ πολλοί κατὰ μεταφορὰν εἴρηται, τὸ γὰρ πᾶν πολύ τι. καὶ τὸ “οἴη δ’ ἄμμορος” κατὰ μεταφοράν, τὸ γὰρ γνωριμώτατον μόνον.

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 7/12/2018, SPi

The Evidence from the Rhetoric

97

In the first example, Agamemnon at one point says that all the people (in the Trojan camp) are asleep, but briefly thereafter he refers to the sound of their auloi and pipes (obviously played by people who are awake). But one should not criticize Homer for inconsistency, Aristotle says, because in poetry ‘all’ is used metaphorically for ‘many.’ (This is a ‘species-to-genus’ metaphor, as ‘all’ is a species of ‘many.’) In the second example, which I mentioned in chapter 1, Homer is saying that the constellation called the Bear or Wagon alone never sinks into the Ocean; but as this is not true (others never do as well), Aristotle implies that we should take Homer to be saying that this one alone of the well-known constellations never sinks into the ocean. (This is a ‘species to genus’ metaphor, as ‘alone of what is wellknown’ is a species of ‘alone.’) Evidence from Porphyry too indicates that Aristotle in the Homeric Problems evoked metaphorical usage to solve a Homeric problem. One problem involves an apparent contradiction in how Crete is described in the Iliad and in the Odyssey: Why has [Homer] written here [i.e. Il. 2.649] “and others who dwelled around hundred-city Crete,” but in the Odyssey, having said that Crete is beautiful and fertile and sea-girt, he continues: “and on it are people, | many and uncountable, and ninety cities” [19.173–4]? For to say at one place “ninety” and at another “one hundred” seems to be a contradiction.81

Porphyry first presents the solution of “Heraclides [of Pontus] and others,” who attempt to solve the puzzle by claiming that Crete had one hundred cities before the war, and ninety after the war, because ten were sacked in the meantime. He then turns to Aristotle: Aristotle says it is not strange, unless they were all portrayed by him saying the same things: for in this way too they should have said completely the same things to one another. But perhaps the hundred is also a metaphor, as is “out of it, one hundred tassels” [Il. 2.448], for they were not one hundred in number; and “one hundred planks of a

81 Schol. B* Il. 2.649 = Porph. HQI pp. 68–9 MacPhail = fr. 146 Rose/370 Gigon: διὰ τί ἐνταῦθα μὲν πεποίηκεν “ἄλλοι θ’ οἳ Κρήτην ἑκατόμπολιν ἀμφενέμοντο”, ἐν δὲ (τῇ) Ὀδυσσείᾳ εἰπὼν ὅτι ἔστιν ἡ Κρήτη καλὴ καὶ πίειρα καὶ περίρρυτος, ἐπάγει· “ἐν δ’ ἄνθρωποι πολλοὶ ἀπειρέσιοι καὶ ἐννήκοντα/ἐνενήκοντα πόληες”; τὸ γὰρ ποτὲ μὲν ἐνενήκοντα ποτὲ δὲ ἑκατὸν λέγειν δοκεῖ ἐναντίον εἶναι.

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 7/12/2018, SPi

98

Aristotle’s Lost Homeric Problems

wagon” [Hes. Op. 456]. Next, [Homer] nowhere says that there are only ninety, and there are indeed ninety in one hundred.82

These three solutions are often taken to come from Aristotle.83 I am not so sure about the third one; but I think both of the others are.84 In any case, the second is certainly consistent with what Aristotle says about metaphors as a means of solving Homeric problems. The solution is that ‘hundred’ is used metaphorically for ‘many’—and ninety, presumably the approximate or more accurate number, is many. (This is a ‘species-to-species’ metaphor, as ‘hundred’ and ‘ninety’ are both species of ‘many.’)85 Other problems that arose among ancient Homeric scholars concerned the meaning of metaphors and their appropriateness.86 There is evidence that Aristotle took part in at least one such debate. In Iliad 11, Paris strikes Diomedes in the foot with an arrow, and Diomedes 82

Schol. B* Il. 2.649 = Porph. HQI pp. 68–9 MacPhail = fr. 146 Rose/370 Gigon, cont.: Ἀριστοτέλης δὲ οὐκ ἄτοπόν φησιν, εἰ μὴ πάντες τὰ αὐτὰ λέγοντες πεποίηνται αὐτῷ· οὕτως γὰρ καὶ ἀλλήλοις τὰ αὐτὰ παντελῶς λέγειν ὤφειλον. μήποτε δὲ καὶ μεταφορά ἐστι τὰ ἑκατόν, ὡς “ἐκ τῆς ἑκατὸν θύσανοι”, οὐ γὰρ ἑκατὸν ἦσαν ἀριθμῷ· καὶ “ἑκατὸν δέ τε δούρατ’ ἀμάξης”. ἔπειτα οὐδαμοῦ λέγει ὡς ἐνενήκοντα μόναι εἰσίν, ἐν δὲ τοῖς ἑκατόν καὶ ἐνενήκοντα. 83 See e.g. Heath (2009, 255). For a brief discussion of Heraclides’ and Aristotle’s solutions to this problem, see Heath (2009, 255–7). 84 Bouchard (2016, 254), following MacPhail (2011, 7 n. 60), claims that μήποτε introduces Porphyry’s own solution(s), and that therefore only the first of these is Aristotle’s. Even so, I think it possible that this was one of Aristotle’s solutions, which Porphyry accepted, along with the third (which was not Aristotle’s). 85 The first solution is that if two different speakers say something different about the same thing, then although the two reports contradict each other it is not a contradiction on the part of Homer. The reference in the Iliad comes from the Catalogue of Ships, and so is the report of either Homer or the Muses (see Il. 2.484–93), whereas the one in the Odyssey comes from a disguised Odysseus speaking to Penelope. 86 There was debate over the propriety (in Iliad 11) of comparing Ajax first to a lion (548–57), and then straightaway to a donkey (558–62). (Technically, this was a debate about similes. See note 89.) Schol. D Il. 11.547 begins with a question in the problemata tradition: “Why at one point is Ajax compared to a lion, and at another to a donkey?” (διὰ τί ὁτὲ μὲν λέοντι ὁτὲ δὲ ὄνῳ παραβάλλει τὸν Αἴαντα;). Another (schol. A Il. 11.548a) confirms that this was a topic of debate (likely involving Aristarchus and Zenodotus, among others), and indicates that the passage was athetized by Zenodotus, in part for this same reason (ὅτι ἀπὸ τούτου Ζηνόδοτος ἀθετεῖ ἕως τοῦ “ἤιε πόλλ’ ἀέκων”, ἴσως ὅτι νῦν μὲν λέοντι παραβέβληκεν, ἑξῆς δὲ ὄνῳ). Both scholiasts defend Homer on the grounds that the two comparisons make two different, and valid, points. There is no evidence that Aristotle participated in this debate, but I mention it to illustrate debate involving the appropriateness of a metaphor.

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 7/12/2018, SPi

The Evidence from the Rhetoric

99

replies with this string of insults (385): “Archer, wretch, splendid in horn, girl-ogler” (τοξότα λωβητὴρ κέρᾳ ἀγλαὲ παρθενοπῖπα). Ancient scholars debated the meaning of κέρᾳ here (literally ‘with/ in horn’). I discuss at length in chapter 8 Aristotle’s possible contribution to this debate. In light of the above alone, we have every reason to believe that the following long passage on metaphor from Rhetoric 3.11 might reflect or draw on a discussion of metaphor in Homeric Problems.87 At 1411b30–1412a10, Aristotle describes (with a half dozen examples) the way Homer effectively uses metaphor to make something inanimate come alive, as it were—to make more vivid for the audience the activity of the inanimate object being described (words used metaphorically are italicized): For instance, Homer has also employed the making of inanimate things animate through metaphor. And in every case he distinguished himself by creating activity, as in these cases: “Then once again the shameless stone rolled to the ground below” [Od. 11.598]; and “the arrow flew” [Il. 5.99, 13.587, 13.592]; and “[the arrow] longing to fly toward” [Il. 4.126]; and “[the spears] were stuck in the earth, anxious to feed on flesh” [Il. 11.574]; and “the spear point, being eager, darted through his chest” [Il. 15.542]. Indeed, in all of these there is the appearance of being active through being animate: for being shameless and eager and the others is [each] an activity. And [Homer] attached these [animate attributes to inanimate things] through analogous metaphor:88 for as the stone is to Sisyphus, so is the one being shameless to the one being shamed. And in his famous similes89 as well he produces the same 87

There is further discussion of metaphor, with Homeric examples, later in 3.11: see 1411b34 (Od. 11.598), 1412a1 (Il. 13.587), 1412a1 (Il. 4.126), 1412a1–2 (Il. 11.574 and 15.542), 1412a9 (Il. 13.799), 1413a32–5 (Il. 9.385–90). But I did not find the Homeric quotations and references embedded in these passages promising with a view to the present inquiry. 88 The fourth type (see Poet. 21.1457b16–19). As Rapp (2010) notes: “An analogy is given if the second term is to the first as the fourth to the third. Correspondingly, an analogous metaphor uses the fourth term for the second or the second for the fourth.” 89 Aristotle discusses simile (or likeness, ἡ εἰκών) in Rhet. 3.4, which opens: “The simile is a metaphor, since they differ little. For when Homer says of Achilles he sprang ‘as a lion’ [cf. Il. 20.164 or 24.572?] it is simile, whereas when [one says] ‘a lion sprang,’ it is metaphor; since because both are brave, he used metaphor and called Achilles a lion.” (ἔστιν δὲ καὶ ἡ εἰκὼν μεταφορά, διαφέρει γὰρ μικρόν· ὅταν μὲν γὰρ εἴπῃ τὸν Ἀχιλλέα “ὡς δὲ λέων ἐπόρουσεν”, εἰκών ἐστιν, ὅταν δὲ “λέων ἐπόρουσε”, μεταφορά· διὰ γὰρ τὸ ἄμφω ἀνδρείους εἶναι, προσηγόρευσεν μετενέγκας λέοντα τὸν Ἀχιλλέα) (1406b20–4). I take Aristotle to be saying that a simile is in effect a metaphor because every simile can be translated into an analogical metaphor (which is what he

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 7/12/2018, SPi

100

Aristotle’s Lost Homeric Problems

things in what is inanimate: “Curved, flecked with foam, some in front, others behind” [Il. 13.799]; for he makes everything moving and living, and activity is movement.90

I want to strengthen my case for a probable connection between this passage and the Homeric Problems by further examining one of these examples (namely λᾶας ἀναιδής, “shameless stone”), in the context of the ancient discussion of it. This metaphor appears twice in Homer— once each in the Iliad and the Odyssey, and in two radically different contexts. Now even though it is clear which of these Aristotle is referring to, it is important to mention both, because ancient scholars drew on both uses in attempting to explain this metaphor. Iliad 4.517–22 is a description of one of many violent encounters on the battlefield described early in the epic: in this case, the Thracian Peiros hurls a large stone at Diores and hits him above the ankle of the right leg, “and the ἀναιδής stone crushed through to the tendons on both sides and to the bones”91 (521–2). In Odyssey 11, Odysseus is in Hades and sees (inter alia) Sisyphus and his infamous punishment, continually and unsuccessfully trying to push a huge stone up and over the crest of a hill (593–600). “Then once again the ἀναιδής stone rolled to the ground below”92 (598). The approach of some ancient Homeric scholars to explaining this metaphor was to attempt to find the word’s different meaning in its unusual context. For instance, schol. A Il. 4.521a states: “[note] that ἀναιδές metaphorically means unyielding and hard.”93 I take does or implies in this Rhet. 3.11 passage). Kassel (following Ross) brackets the first τὸν Ἀχιλλέα, but I see no need to do that. 90 καὶ ὡς κέχρηται πολλαχοῦ Ὅμηρος, τὸ τὰ ἄψυχα ἔμψυχα ποιεῖν διὰ τῆς μεταφορᾶς. ἐν πᾶσι δὲ τῷ ἐνέργειαν ποιεῖν εὐδοκιμεῖ, οἷον ἐν τοῖσδε, “αὖτις ἐπὶ δάπεδόνδε {ἔπειτα πέδονδε} κυλίνδετο λᾶας ἀναιδής” καὶ “ἔπτατ’ ὀϊστός” {ἔπτατο πικρὸς ὀϊστός} καὶ “ἐπιπτέσθαι μενεαίνων” καὶ “ἐν γαίῃ ἵσταντο λιλαιόμενα χροὸς ἆσαι” καὶ “αἰχμὴ δὲ στέρνοιο διέσσυτο μαιμώωσα”. ἐν πᾶσι γὰρ τούτοις διὰ τὸ ἔμψυχα εἶναι ἐνεργοῦντα φαίνεται· τὸ ἀναισχυντεῖν γὰρ καὶ μαιμᾶν καὶ τἆλλα ἐνέργεια. ταῦτα δὲ προσῆψε διὰ τῆς κατ’ ἀναλογίαν μεταφορᾶς· ὡς γὰρ ὁ λίθος πρὸς τὸν Σίσυφον, ὁ ἀναισχυντῶν πρὸς τὸν ἀναισχυντούμενον. ποιεῖ δὲ καὶ ἐν ταῖς εὐδοκιμούσαις εἰκόσιν ἐπὶ τῶν ἀψύχων ταὐτά· “κυρτά, φαληριόωντα· πρὸ μέν τ’ ἄλλ’, αὐτὰρ ἐπ’ ἄλλα”· κινούμενα γὰρ καὶ ζῶντα ποιεῖ πάντα, ἡ δ’ ἐνέργεια κίνησις. (Curly brackets contain the text of the manuscript tradition, where Aristotle’s text has something different.) 91 ἀμφοτέρω δὲ τένοντε καὶ ὀστέα λᾶας ἀναιδὴς | ἄχρις ἀπηλοίησεν. 92 αὖτις ἔπειτα πέδονδε κυλίνδετο λᾶας ἀναιδής. 93 ὅτι μεταφορικῶς τὸ ἀνένδοτον καὶ σκληρὸν ἀναιδὲς λέγει. (LSJ s.v. ἀνένδοτος: “unyielding, rigid; . . . not giving way.”) Erbse marks this scholium as coming from Aristonichus, and Friedländer had included it in his Aristonici Περὶ σημείων Ἰλιάδος

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 7/12/2018, SPi

The Evidence from the Rhetoric

101

this scholium to be anticipating or answering anyone who claimed (erroneously) that the verse should be doubted because ἀναιδές means ‘shameless,’ which does not fit the context. The claim is that Homer’s use of ἀναιδής does fit its different contexts if one notes its other meanings: ‘unyielding’ (which fits the Odyssey passage) and ‘hard’ (which fits the Iliad passage), rather than ‘shameless.’ There is further such evidence for this approach to defending ἀναιδής in two other scholia and in two entries from lexicographical works.94 I think it is clear that Aristotle’s approach to explaining Homeric metaphor is completely different. On his account, ἀναιδής means what it normally means (namely ‘shameless’), but Homer applies it in an alien way (i.e. to inanimate objects) to make the scene in which it is used more vivid.95 Modern scholars tend to agree with Aristotle.96 In Rhetoric 3.11, as we have seen, Aristotle tells us that ἀναιδής (‘shameless’) is an analogical metaphor which, though normally reserved for what is animate, is used to describe something inanimate. He explains that (A) the stone is to (B) Sisyphus as (C) the shameless person is to (D) the one who is shamed or treated shamefully. This is a metaphor because Homer is using an adjective that normally describes a certain kind of person or human action (C) to describe a stone (A). According to Aristotle, Homer is saying that the stone in effect treats Sisyphus shamefully, i.e. it humiliates him. And as feeling shame and treating shamelessly are human actions, this makes the presentation more vivid, more alive.97 And we can speculate over (1853), printing ⟨ἡ διπλῆ⟩ ὅτι μεταφορικῶς κτλ. So on their view, Aristonicus is here reporting that Aristarchus marked Il. 4.521 as suspect or otherwise noteworthy— perhaps because ἀναιδές is used metaphorically. 94 Schol. T Il. 4.521: ἀναιδής· “metaphorically [it means] ‘hard’, at least if [the stone] broke through both sinews and the bones” (ὁ σκληρὸς μεταφορικῶς, εἴγε ἀμφότερατὰ νεῦρα καὶ τὰ ὀστᾶ διαρρήγνυσι). Schol. D Od. 11.598: ἀναιδής· ὁ σκληρός [‘hard’]. Ap. Soph. p. 35.23 Bekker): ἀναιδής: “metaphorically ‘violent’ and ‘hard’ ” (μεταφορικῶς ὁ βίαιος καὶ σκληρός· “λᾶας ἀναιδής”). Hesychius α 4323: ἀναιδής: “ ‘hard’, ‘without shame’, for Homer metaphorically says the stone is ἀναιδῆ” (σκληρός, ἀναίσχυντος, μεταφορικῶς γὰρ τὸν λίθον ἀναιδῆ λέγει Ὅμηρος· “λᾶας ἀναιδής”). 95 Of course, this is not to say Aristotle never attempts to solve a Homeric problem by offering another meaning for some controversial word. See chapter 1, section 2 (pp. 17–20). 96 See e.g. Kirk (1985, 395) on Il. 4.521 and Heubeck and Hoekstra (1990, 113) on Od. 11.598. The latter comment: “the stone, anthropomorphically, has no pity.” 97 Anon. in Rhet. (p. 209 Rabe [CAG 21.2]): “To call the stone shameless or without shame is a metaphor: for ‘being without shame’ is said in the case of humans

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 7/12/2018, SPi

102

Aristotle’s Lost Homeric Problems

what Aristotle would have said about this term as used in Il. 4.521: (A) the stone is to (B) Diores as (C) the shameless person is to (D) the one who is shamed or treated shamefully. The stone in effect treats Diores shamefully, as in a normal human context one human crushing the leg of another is shameless behavior. So, I think there is good reason to believe that not only were metaphors discussed in Aristotle’s Homeric Problems, but specifically (some of) the metaphors provided as examples in Rhet. 3.11 were as well; and more significantly, that the discussion of metaphor in the latter likely reflects or parallels Aristotle’s discussion in the former. This conclusion receives some support from two bT scholia on passages in Iliad 1: (1) Il. 1.303 ( Od. 16.41) reads: “straightaway your dark blood will rush around [my] spear.”98 A scholiast (schol. bT Il. 1.303) comments on ἐρωήσει (from ἐρωέω, rush): From the [noun] ἐρωή, [it’s the same as] ὁρμήσει [‘will set in motion’ or ‘rush’]. Graphically (ἐναργῶς)99 the blood pouring out around the spear with a rush is made visible. Indeed, Aristotle said these expressions in him [sc. Homer] are animate.100

(2) The first part of Il. 1.481 reads: “wind swelled in the middle of the sail.”101 A scholiast (schol. bT Il. 1.481b) comments on πρῆσεν (from πρήθω, blow or swell): “Aristotle said the poet writes [such] words as if moving.”102 The scholiast103 assumes that these two verbs (ἐρωέω and πρήθω) usually refer to animate beings—that rush or swell—but and is an activity” (τὸ λέγειν τὸν λίθον ἀναιδῆ ἤτοι ἀναίσχυντον μεταφορά ἐστι· τὸ γὰρ ἀναισχυντεῖν ἐπὶ τῶν ἀνθρώπων λέγεται καὶ ἐνέργειά ἐστιν). 98 αἶψά τοι αἷμα κελαινὸν ἐρωήσει περὶ δουρί. On ἐρωήσει here, see Kirk (1985, 83). 99 On the concept of ἐνάργεια, see Nünlist (2009, 194–8). He renders the term ‘graphic quality.’ 100 παρὰ τὴν ἐρωήν, ὁρμήσει. ἐναργῶς δὲ πεφάντασται τὸ περὶ τὸ δόρυ μεθ’ ὁρμῆς ἐκχεόμενον αἷμα. καὶ ταύτας ἐμψύχους ἔλεγεν εἶναι παρ’ αὐτῷ τὰς λέξεις Ἀριστοτέλης. In his edition of the scholia, Erbse inserts “(rhet. 3, 11 p. 1411b32)” after Ἀριστοτέλης. 101 ἐν δ’ ἄνεμος πρῆσεν μέσον ἱστίον. 102 This is the most sense I can make of the Greek: Ἀριστοτέλης φησὶν ὡς κινούμενα ὀνόματα γράφει ὁ ποιητής. In his edition of the scholia, Erbse inserts “(rhet. 3, 11 p. 1411b31)” after φησίν, but one should instead compare 1412a10, a few lines later: κινούμενα γὰρ καὶ ζῶντα ποιεῖ πάντα, ἡ δ’ ἐνέργεια κίνησις. Cf. Plutarch, Pyth. or. 8 (Mor. 398A), which does not refer to any specific Homeric passage: “Aristotle said that Homer alone produced words that were moving owing to their activity” (Ἀριστοτέλης μὲν οὖν μόνον Ὅμηρον ἔλεγε κινούμενα ποιεῖν ὀνόματα διὰ τὴν ἐνέργειαν). 103 Shorthand for ‘The scholiast or scholiasts, or his or their source or sources . . . ’

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 7/12/2018, SPi

The Evidence from the Rhetoric

103

were in these cases, according to Aristotle, applied metaphorically by Homer to inanimate things (spear and wind, respectively) to make them come alive for his audience. Rose, in his first two editions of the fragments of Aristotle, oddly attributed these scholia to a different lost work (Compendium of the Technique of Theodectus [Vita Hesychii no. 74]); and in his third, he merely mentions them in a comment on another text.104 Heitz, however, thought they came from either On Poets or Homeric Problems.105 Both Rose and Heitz compare these scholia to the discussion of metaphor in Rhet. 3.11; and indeed, both texts are consistent with what Aristotle says there about Homeric metaphor. Recall that the Rhet. 3.11 passage included a half dozen Homeric examples, but none of them is either of the lines commented on in these two scholia from Iliad 1. Aristotle does not quote or cite these two Homeric verses anywhere in his extant works. And these two scholia are not quotations or even paraphrases from the Rhetoric. So it is by no means clear that the scholiast simply applied what Aristotle said about metaphors in Rhet. 3.11 to these verses—though of course this possibility cannot be ruled out. Moreover, most of the mentions of Aristotle in the Homeric scholia are references to or quotations from the History of Animals and Homeric Problems, and so far as I can tell no (other) references or allusions to the Rhetoric have been identified in the scholia—which is surprising, given how much Aristotle has to say about Homer in this work. So I submit that it is at least as likely that these two scholia refer to or correspond to or apply something Aristotle wrote (on metaphor) in Homeric Problems, which I think further supports my claim that Rhet. 3.11 reflects what Aristotle said about metaphor in his Homeric Problems. * * * Three brief, concluding remarks: (1) I think it probable that Aristotle’s accounts of anger in Rhetoric 1.11 and 2.2–3 reflect discussions, in his Homeric Problems, of the anger of Achilles and of 104 In Rose’s first edition (1863, 145), both are included under fr. 117; in his second (1870, 1500), under fr. 129; in his third (1886, 116), he mentions them in a comment on fr. 130. 105 See Heitz (1865, 278–9) and (1869, 151). In his collection of fragments (the later work), they are included together (under fr. 219) in the section on the Homeric Problems.

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 7/12/2018, SPi

104

Aristotle’s Lost Homeric Problems

Odysseus. (2) It is certain that Aristotle discussed metaphor in his Homeric Problems, and probable that that discussion is reflected in what he says on the topic in Rhetoric 3.11. (3) In the previous chapter, I concluded that, based on the passages that I examined from the History of Animals, there is no reason to think that Aristotle’s work on animals influenced his Homeric Problems in any fundamental way (or vice versa). But I would speculate that the relationship between the Homeric Problems and the Rhetoric (or at least Rhetoric 3) was much closer. For example, I expect that Aristotle’s study of and work on metaphor in Homer influenced his account in the Rhetoric of metaphor, or vice versa—or rather, that the two were mutually influential.

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 11/12/2018, SPi

6 The Evidence from Poetics 21 Aristotle discusses Homeric epic in Poet. 23–6. In addition to Poet. 25 (on Homeric problems and solutions), some passages from the other three chapters may parallel discussions in the Homeric Problems; none, however, seems to me to be an obvious candidate.1 In the present chapter, I want to examine the last viable source (as far as I can tell) for information about the Homeric Problems in the extant Poetics. Poetics 21 is a classification of the kinds of names or words (ὀνόματος εἴδη),2 with a view to analyzing tragedy and epic poetry. They are classified according to quantity, i.e. whether simple or compound (1457a31–b1), according to usage or form (1457b1–1548a7), and according to gender (1458a8–17).3 I think there can be little doubt that the content of this chapter reflects material that also appeared in the Homeric Problems. In what follows, I limit my discussion to the longest and most important section, on the classifications according to usage and form, as I believe there is in this case the most evidence for a connection to the Homeric Problems. The classifications according to usage or form are previewed at the outset of that discussion: “Every name is either standard or foreign or a metaphor or an ornament or made up or lengthened or shortened or altered”4 (1457b1–3). In Poetics 22, Aristotle makes it clear that

1 But see my discussion of Poet. 24.1460a18–26 in chapter 3, section 2 (pp. 43–4). And as I indicate there, it is quite possible that Poet. 16 also contains material that reflects Aristotle’s discussion in the Homeric Problems of the various recognition scenes in the Odyssey. 2 In translating ὄνομα here, I prefer either ‘word’ (e.g. Butcher) or even better ‘name’ (e.g. Janko) to ‘noun’ (e.g. Bywater, Golden, Halliwell, Heath, Kenny)— however appropriate this last is in the context of Aristotle’s De interpretatione. 3 I here employ the language of Janko (1987, 28). 4 ἅπαν δὲ ὄνομά ἐστιν ἢ κύριον ἢ γλῶττα ἢ μεταφορὰ ἢ κόσμος ἢ πεποιημένον ἢ ἐπεκτεταμένον ἢ ἀφῃρημένον ἢ ἐξηλλαγμένον.

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 11/12/2018, SPi

106

Aristotle’s Lost Homeric Problems

there were people who criticized such non standard language and that they were wrong to do so: And further, Ariphrades ridiculed the tragedians because they use things that no one would [really] say in conversation, for instance ‘from the house away’ but not ‘away from the house,’ and ‘thine’ and ‘and I him/her,’ and ‘Achilles around’ but not ‘around Achilles,’ and however many other such things. Indeed, because all such [usages] are not among the standard ones, they produce what is not idiomatic in speech; but he was ignorant of this.5 (1458b31–1459a4)

Such an objection, and Aristotle’s response to it, were not limited to tragedy. As mentioned in chapter 1, Poetics 25 contains the following relevant passage: “These [i.e. the representations of poets] are expressed in speech in which there are foreign words (or ‘dialects’) and metaphors and many modifications of speech; for we grant these to the poets”6 (1460b11–13). To return to Poetics 21: Aristotle next goes through each of the classifications according to usage or form in turn, and I think that— given the foregoing—there is a prima facie case to be made for his having discussed (and defended) Homer’s use of each kind of name in his Homeric Problems. But I will try, in what follows, to bolster such a claim—where possible—with additional evidence.

6.1. STANDARD WORDS CONTRASTED WITH ‘FOREIGN’ WORDS (1457B3–6) Aristotle writes: I mean by ‘standard’ [a name] that a particular people use, by ‘foreign’ what others use. So it is obvious that it is possible for the same [name] to be both foreign and standard, but not for the same people.7 (1457b3–5) ἔτι δὲ Ἀριφράδης τοὺς τραγῳδοὺς ἐκωμῴδει ὅτι ἃ οὐδεὶς ἂν εἴπειεν ἐν τῇ διαλέκτῳ τούτοις χρῶνται, οἷον τὸ δωμάτων ἄπο ἀλλὰ μὴ ἀπὸ δωμάτων, καὶ τὸ σέθεν καὶ τὸ ἐγὼ δέ νιν καὶ τὸ Ἀχιλλέως πέρι ἀλλὰ μὴ περὶ Ἀχιλλέως, καὶ ὅσα ἄλλα τοιαῦτα. διὰ γὰρ τὸ μὴ εἶναι ἐν τοῖς κυρίοις ποιεῖ τὸ μὴ ἰδιωτικὸν ἐν τῇ λέξει ἅπαντα τὰ τοιαῦτα· ἐκεῖνος δὲ τοῦτο ἠγνόει. 6 ταῦτα δ’ ἐξαγγέλλεται λέξει ἐν ᾗ καὶ γλῶτται καὶ μεταφοραὶ καὶ πολλὰ πάθη τῆς λέξεώς ἐστι· δίδομεν γὰρ ταῦτα τοῖς ποιηταῖς. When one notes that ‘foreign words’ implies a contrast with standard language, and that ‘modifications’ includes lengthened, shortened, and altered words (and perhaps made-up words as well, as they are based on already existing words), these two passages line up fairly well. 7 λέγω δὲ κύριον μὲν ᾧ χρῶνται ἕκαστοι, γλῶτταν δὲ ᾧ ἕτεροι· ὥστε φανερὸν ὅτι καὶ γλῶτταν καὶ κύριον εἶναι δυνατὸν τὸ αὐτό, μὴ τοῖς αὐτοῖς δέ. 5

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 11/12/2018, SPi

The Evidence from Poetics 21

107

He gives one example: “For σίγυνον is standard for Cypriots, but foreign for us”8 (1457b6). In the Arabic translation of the Poetics, this line continues: “while dory [i.e. δόρυ, ‘spear’] is standard for us but foreign [sc. for Cypriots].”9 Despite the absence of Homeric examples in his discussion of foreign words, Poetics 25 makes it clear that this distinction was used to solve Homeric problems: Some [problems] should be solved by looking at the diction, for instance, [explaining] “mules first” [Il. 1.50] by [assuming] a foreign word; for perhaps [Homer] means not ‘the mules’ but ‘the guards.’ And [saying] about Dolon “he was indeed evil in form” [Il. 10.316], [perhaps means] not that his body was ill-proportioned, but that his face was ugly, for the Cretans call fair-of-face ‘fair-of-form.’ And the [phrase] “mix purer [wine]” [Il. 9.203] refers not to unmixed [wine], as if for winos, but to [wine mixed] more quickly.10 (1461a9–16)

In the first example, Aristotle may have been answering Zoilus, who criticized Homer for making Apollo—in sending a plague against the Greeks—indiscriminately begin with animals (see Heraclitus, HP 14=FGrHist 71, fr. 5). Perhaps this line of Eustathius ultimately comes from Aristotle or reflects what he said: “The ancients say that by ‘mules’ one must understand ‘the guards.’ For as ἡνιοχεύς [‘charioteer’] is [a form of] ἡνίοχος, υἱεύς [‘son’, a form of] υἱός . . . [etc.], so here οὐρεύς [normally ‘mule’] is [a form of] οὖρος [which can mean ‘guardian’].”11 Aristotle is likely wrong here: the word for ‘mule’ (οὐρῆας) merely resembles another word for ‘guard’ (οὐρεύς).12 According to Aristonicus (if as is likely he is the source of schol. A Il. 1.50a), Aristarchus flagged this verse, disagreeing with Aristotle on the grounds that taking οὐρῆας to

τὸ γὰρ σίγυνον Κυπρίοις μὲν κύριον, ἡμῖν δὲ γλῶττα. See Gutas’s note on 1457b6, in Tarán and Gutas (2012, 431). 10 τὰ δὲ πρὸς τὴν λέξιν ὁρῶντα δεῖ διαλύειν, οἷον γλώττῃ τὸ “οὐρῆας μὲν πρῶτον”· ἴσως γὰρ οὐ τοὺς ἡμιόνους λέγει ἀλλὰ τοὺς φύλακας· καὶ τὸν Δόλωνα, “ὅς ῥ’ ἦ τοι εἶδος μὲν ἔην κακός”, οὐ τὸ σῶμα ἀσύμμετρον ἀλλὰ τὸ πρόσωπον αἰσχρόν, τὸ γὰρ εὐειδὲς οἱ Κρῆτες τὸ εὐπρόσωπον καλοῦσι· καὶ τὸ “ζωρότερον δὲ κέραιε” οὐ τὸ ἄκρατον ὡς οἰνόφλυξιν ἀλλὰ τὸ θᾶττον. 11 φασὶν οἱ παλαιοί, ὅτι οὐρῆας νῦν τοὺς φύλακας νοητέον. ὡς γὰρ ἡνίοχος ἡνιοχεύς, υἱός υἱεύς . . . οὕτως ἐνταῦθα οὖρος οὐρεύς (Il. 10.84 (3.22.11–14)). Note LSJ s.v. οὖρος (B): ‘watcher, guardian.’ On other ancient attempts to explain Il. 1.50, without denying that Apollo began with mules, see Kirk (1985, 58). 12 See Janko (1987, 148). 8 9

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 11/12/2018, SPi

108

Aristotle’s Lost Homeric Problems

mean ‘guards’ here rather than ‘mules’ contradicts or undercuts the appearance of αὐτοῖσι (“the men themselves”) in the verse that follows.13 Apollo first (πρῶτον) went after the mules and dogs, then (ἔπειτ’) the humans (Il. 1.50–1). In the second example, as Janko notes (1987, 148): “The supposed contradiction is that ‘ugly in form’ might mean that Dolon was a cripple, but he is also described as ‘swift of foot’ [i.e. ποδώκης, in the same verse]. Aristotle is right this time.”14 In the third example, Aristotle may again be responding to a criticism of Zoilus (see Plutarch, Table Talk 5.4 (Mor. 677E)). This entire chapter of Plutarch (the title of which is Περὶ τοῦ “ζωρότερον δὲ κέραιε”) is worth consulting.15 Janko comments: Zoilus’ “objection is misguided, but Aristotle is wrong; the word does mean ‘purer’, even though it does resemble a word meaning ‘lively’ ” (1987, 148).16 It is noteworthy that two of the examples we have encountered come from Cypriot and Cretan, i.e. not from the standard dialects used by Homer. I assume that ‘standard’ (as defined by Aristotle above) would, in Homeric criticism, refer to any of these Greek dialects.17 This is confirmed by the fact that the lengthened and shortened words he discusses later in the chapter are not Homeric neologisms but words altered according to principles or practices of the various dialects. There is an instance in the fragments of the Homeric Problems of Aristotle solving a problem by referring to the possible nonstandard usage of some word. It may not be a perfect example, in that it does not show Aristotle solving a problem by proposing that the particular usage of a word is foreign rather than standard, but it

13 Schol. A Il. 1.50a: ὅτι οὐκ ὀρθῶς τινες οὐρῆας τοὺς φύλακας· ἀντιδιαστέλλει γὰρ διὰ τοῦ “αὐτοῖσι”. Cf. schol. A Il. 23.111a1: “because clearly οὐρῆες [refers to] the mules” (ὅτι σαφῶς οὐρῆες οἱ ἡμίονοι). 14 Cf. schol. D Il. 10.316: εἶδος μὲν ἔην κακός: ἀηδὴς ἦν τῷ προσώπῳ, ἀλλ’ ὀξὺς ἐν τῷ τρέχειν. See also Hainsworth (1993, 186). 15 See below on schol. T Od. 5.93e1 (p. 109). 16 Cf. Carroll (1895, 41): “Aristotle removes the difficulty by understanding ‘ζωρότερον’ not as ἄκρατον, but as θᾶττον, a rare use of the term.” See also Hainsworth (1993, 90). 17 See pseudo-Plutarch, On the Life and Poetry of Homer 8: “He [sc. Homer] used a diversified language, mixing together the characteristics of every dialect of the Greeks” (λέξει δὲ ποικίλῃ κεχρημένος τοὺς ἀπὸ πάσης διαλέκτου τῶν Ἑλληνίδων χαρακτῆρας ἐγκατέμιξεν).

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 11/12/2018, SPi

The Evidence from Poetics 21

109

is similar in form: A problem arises because of the assumption that the word has one basic meaning, and Aristotle solves it by claiming that the problematic word in fact does not (merely) mean what people think it does. This is an instance of the solution I labeled no. 11ʹ (see Poet. 25.1461a31–5, discussed in chapter 1, section 2 (pp. 20–1)). Early in Odyssey 5 (28–62), Zeus sends Hermes to Calypso, to tell her to release Odysseus. Before he delivers his message, they dine (92–4). She serves him ambrosia and nectar—mixing the latter (presumably the way the Greeks normally mixed wine, with water). This gave rise to a Homeric problem: If the gods drink nothing other than nectar, why does Calypso give it to Hermes mixed? For if it has been mixed with water, they do not drink nectar alone but also water. And yet, he says, she set before him simple ambrosia, “and she mixed red nectar.” Now Aristotle, solving [this problem], says that ‘mixed’ means either to combine one liquid with another, or to pour; for ‘to mix’ means both. Therefore in the present case, “and she mixed red nectar” does not mean to mix [nectar with water] but merely to pour [the nectar].18 (schol. T Od. 5.93e1 = fr. 170.1 Rose/393.1 Gigon)

I have not been able to find any compelling evidence for Aristotle’s claim that one (non standard or in another dialect?) meaning of κεράννυμι is ‘pour’;19 so I agree with Hintenlang’s conclusion that in this case, Aristotle’s solution is not tenable (1961, 55–8).20

18 εἰ μηδὲν ἄλλο πίνουσιν οἱ θεοὶ ἢ τὸ νέκταρ, διὰ τί αὐτὸ ἡ Καλυψὼ τῷ Ἑρμῇ κεράσασα δίδωσιν; εἰ γὰρ κεκέρασται σὺν ὕδατι, οὐ μόνον τὸ νέκταρ, ἀλλὰ καὶ τὸ ὕδωρ πίνουσιν. καίτοι, φησὶ, ψιλὴν ἀμβροσίαν παρέθηκε, “κέρασσε δὲ νέκταρ ἐρυθρόν”. λύων οὖν ὁ Ἀριστοτέλης τὸ “κέρασσε”, φησίν, ἤτοι τὸ μῖξαι ἄλλο ἄλλῳ ὑγρῷ δηλοῖ, ⟨ἢ⟩ τὸ ἐγχέαι· ἄμφω ⟨γὰρ⟩ δηλοῖ τὸ “κεράσαι”. νῦν οὖν τὸ “κέρασσε δὲ νέκταρ ἐρυθρόν” οὐ τὸ μῖξαι δηλοῖ, ἀλλὰ ψιλῶς ἐγχέαι. There is a second, briefer version, which indicates that the source is Porphyry: see schol. EX Od. 5.93e2=fr. 170.2 Rose/393.2 Gigon. 19 Cunliffe (s.v. κεράννυμι) gives ‘mix, temper’. LSJ (s.v. κεράννυμι) provides three basic meanings: 1. ‘mostly of diluting wine with water’; 2. ‘temper, cool by mixing’; and, 3. ‘generally [i.e. not with reference to wine], mix, blend.’ The only example LSJ gives that is remotely close to what Aristotle claims comes late, from the New Testament: “c. dat. pers., give to drink, ἐν τῷ ποτηρίῳ ᾧ ἐκέρασε κεράσατε αὐτῇ διπλοῦν Apoc.18.6.” Perhaps influenced by Aristotle, BDAG (s.v. κεράννυμι) gives as its basic meanings ‘to pour, mix, mingle’; but I find none of the examples it provides for ‘pour’ (e.g. Plato, Phil. 61b) convincing. 20 See also Breitenberger (2006, 415–17).

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 11/12/2018, SPi

110

Aristotle’s Lost Homeric Problems 6.2. METAPHORS (1457B6–33) AND ORNAMENTS (1457B33?)

Aristotle’s discussion of metaphors is the longest in Poetics 21. But as I cover metaphor at length in chapter 5, section 2.3 (including this Poetics 21 passage), I do not discuss it here. Given the inclusion of ornament (κόσμος) in the classifications according to usage or form referred to earlier in Poetics 21 (1457b2), we can be fairly certain that there is a lacuna at 1457b33, where Aristotle would have discussed ornament.21 As his discussion has not come down to us, we can merely speculate as to what he means by κόσμος in this context. One possibility is that it refers (at least in part) to embellishing epithets.22 As in the case of metaphors, I discuss epithets in chapter 5, section 2.1, and so I pass over them here.

6.3. MADE UP WORDS (1457B33–5) Aristotle writes: A created [name] is one which, not being used by anyone at all, the poet himself posits, for there seem to be some such [names], for instance, [calling] horns ‘branches’ and a priest ‘pray-er.’23 (1457b33–5)

It is unknown in what work ἔρνυγας (‘branches’?) appeared (or even what precisely the word is or means).24 Forms of ἀρητήρ (‘pray-er’)

21 Madius (1550) was the first to postulate a lacuna here. See Tarán’s note on 1457b33, in Tarán and Gutas (2012, 287). There is a lacuna as well in the Arabic tradition: see Gutas’s note (p. 436) in the same work. 22 See Schenkeveld (1993) and Janko (1987, 130–1). On debates in the scholia over epithets as poetic ornaments, see Nünlist (2009, 302–5). E.g. schol. HMa Od. 2.94b claims that the epithet μέγαν (‘great’) is there “not added for ornament poetically,” but serves a legitimate function: “μέγαν ἱστὸν ἐνὶ μεγάροισιν”: οὐ ποιητικῶς κόσμου χάριν προσέρριπται τὸ “μέγαν”, ἀλλὰ πρὸς τὸ πολυχρόνιον τῆς τοῦ ἔργου κατασκευῆς. 23 πεποιημένον δ’ ἐστὶν ὃ ὅλως μὴ καλούμενον ὑπὸ τινῶν αὐτὸς τίθεται ὁ ποιητής, δοκεῖ γὰρ ἔνια εἶναι τοιαῦτα, οἷον τὰ κέρατα ἔρνυγας καὶ τὸν ἱερέα ἀρητῆρα. 24 It is either ἔρνυγας (from ἔρνυξ) or ἐρνύγας (from ἐρνύγη). Cf. Hesych. ε 5969: ἔρνυγας· ἔρνη. βλαστήματα. κλάδοι. See Tarán’s note on 1457b35, in Tarán and Gutas (2012, 288). Beekes (s.v. ἔρνος) says ἔρνος (‘branch’ or ‘sprout’) “is wrong for ἔρνυγας” (2010, 1: 462–3).

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 11/12/2018, SPi

The Evidence from Poetics 21

111

appear thrice in the Iliad (1.11, 1.94, 5.78).25 Aristotle’s point (in the context of Poetics 21, and given what we know from Poetics 25) is that the mere fact that Homer coined a term is not enough to criticize its appearance in one of his epics. Though not a precise fit in this category, compare the following passage from Poetics 25 (solution no. 11): “Some [problems should be solved] according to the habit of speech [i.e. linguistic usage]. They say that what is mixed is wine, from which [principle Homer] created ‘a greave of newly wrought tin’ [Il. 21.592]”26 (1461a27–8). Janko (1987, 150) explains: “Just as people call a mixture of wine and water ‘wine’, so Homer at Iliad XXI 592 calls a mixture of copper and tin ‘tin’, instead of bronze. Critics had objected to tin as impossible, because no soldier would wear armour made of so soft a metal.”27 This is relevant, because although κασσίτερος is not a neologism, using it to mean ‘bronze’ is a new usage that (according to Aristotle) Homer created (πεποίηται). Besides the fact that we (should) “grant these to the poets” (Poet. 25.1460b13), Homer also seems to be justified in that the principle behind this creation is in fact one in common use.

6.4. LENGTHENED AND SHORTENED WORDS (1457B35–1458A5) Aristotle writes: [A word] is lengthened or shortened, the former if [there] is a using of a longer vowel than appropriate or an inserted syllable, the latter if some [part] of it is shortened: lengthened is for instance [changing] πόλεως [to] πόληος28 and Πηλείδου [to] Πηληιάδεω,29 25 I have been unable to locate any ancient criticism or discussion involving ἀρητήρ, aside from comments of a lexicographical, etymological, or grammatical nature. For instance: schol. A Il. 1.11a (Ariston.): “τὸν Χρύσην ἠτίμησ’ ἀρητῆρα”: διὰ τὴν τάξιν τοῦ ἄρθρου, τὸν ἀρητῆρα Χρύσην, and schol. D Il. 1.11: ἀρητῆρα: ἱερέα. παρὰ τὸ ἀρᾶσθαι, ὅ ἐστιν εὔχεσθαι. 26 τὰ δὲ κατὰ τὸ ἔθος τῆς λέξεως. τὸν κεκραμένον οἶνόν φασιν εἶναι, ὅθεν πεποίηται “κνημὶς νεοτεύκτου κασσιτέροιο”. 27 See also Carroll (1895, 50–1) and Richardson (1993, 103). 28 πόληος (‘of the city’) appears five times in the Iliad, eight in the Odyssey. Note that although one vowel is lengthened, another is shortened. 29 Πηληιάδεω (‘of the son/descendant of Peleus’) appears twice in the Iliad, eight times in the Odyssey. For Aristotle, this would seem to be an example of both the lengthening of a vowel and the addition of a syllable.

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 11/12/2018, SPi

112

Aristotle’s Lost Homeric Problems

whereas shortened is for instance κρῖ30 and δῶ31 and “one ὄψ32 comes to be from both.”33

These are not, I take it, made up words; they are instances in which Homer (and other poets) use shortened or lengthened forms from dialects other than the standard Attic or Koine Greek of the Homeric scholars. There are no examples among the fragments of the Homeric Problems of Aristotle discussing lengthened or shortened forms, or using them to solve problems or answer criticisms. Nevertheless, there was discussion among ancient Homeric critics about which word a shortened or lengthened form originally came from (and so about what it means),34 including disagreements about such things.35 There was also discussion and debate about which dialect a shortened or lengthened form came from.36 And there may have been cases in

κρῖ (‘barley’), from κριθή, appears thrice each in the Iliad and the Odyssey. δῶ (‘house’), from δῶμα, appears nine times in the Iliad, sixteen in the Odyssey. 32 The manuscripts have not ὄψ but ὀης (ms. A) and ὁης (ms. B). We learn of the correct reading (ὄψ), and the origin of the example (Empedocles), from Strabo (more on his evidence shortly), who writes παρ’ Ἐμπεδοκλεῖ δέ “μία γίνεται ἀμφοτέρων ὄψ” ἡ ὄψις (8.5.3 = fr. 31 B 88 DK). The verse means ‘one vision comes from both eyes.’ Oddly, in both his apparatus and his commentary on 1458a5, Tarán fails to mention both Empedocles and Strabo, merely indicating that ὄψ was Victorius’ conjecture (2012, 202 and 288). 33 ἐπεκτεταμένον δέ ἐστιν ἢ ἀφῃρημένον τὸ μὲν ἐὰν φωνήεντι μακροτέρῳ κεχρημένον ᾖ τοῦ οἰκείου ἢ συλλαβῇ ἐμβεβλημένῃ, τὸ δὲ ἂν ἀφῃρημένον τι ᾖ αὐτοῦ· ἐπεκτεταμένον μὲν οἷον τὸ πόλεως πόληος καὶ τὸ Πηλείδου Πηληιάδεω, ἀφῃρημένον δὲ οἷον τὸ κρῖ καὶ τὸ δῶ καὶ “μία γίνεται ἀμφοτέρων ὄψ”. 34 Schol. bT Il. 22.110b: ⟨πρὸ πόληος⟩: ὑπὲρ τῆς πόλεως. Schol. D Il. 1.1: Πηληϊάδεω: τοῦ Πηλέως παιδός. Schol. HMaVY Od. 1.176e: δῶ: δῶμα, οἴκημα. 35 Schol. A Il. 5.196a: κρῖ λευκόν: κριθάς. Schol. T Il. 8.564: κρῖ λευκόν: εἰ ἦν ἀπὸ τοῦ κριθή, λευκὴν ἂν ἐπήγαγεν. Eust. Il. 20.496 (4.441.13–14): ὅτι δὲ τὸ κρῖ ἐκ τοῦ κρίμνον ἀποκέκοπται, οὐ μὴν ἀπὸ τῆς κριθῆς, δηλοῦσιν οἱ παλαιοί. Beekes claims κριθή is an enlarged form of κρῖ (2010, 1: 779), and he sees no connection between κρῖ and κρίμνον (1: 780). 36 Pseudo-Plutarch, On the Life and Poetry of Homer 9: “And he [sc. Homer] uses the Dorians’ customary shortening (of words) for brevity in speech, saying δῶ for δῶμα.” (καὶ Δωριέων μὲν τῇ συνήθει τῆς βραχυλογίας ἐλλείψει κέχρηται, τὸ “δῶμα” λέγων “δῶ”.) Cf. Eust. Il. 2.120 (1.287.20–2): Αἰολέων δὲ ἡ τοῦ μάψ βραχυλογία ἐκ τοῦ μάτην, ὧν καὶ τὸ ἄψ ἐκ τοῦ ὀπίσω καὶ τὸ ὅ ἐκ τοῦ ὅτι καὶ αἱ ἀποκοπαὶ δὲ τοῦ δῶμα δῶ καὶ ῥᾴδιον ῥᾴ καὶ κρίμνον κρῖ καὶ τῶν ὁμοίων, and Eust. Il. 1.1 (1.20.28–21.1): Ὅτι τὸ Πηληϊάδεω λέξις ἐστὶν Ἰωνική. τὸ μὲν γὰρ κοινὸν ἔχει οὕτως· Πηλεὺς Πηλέος, ὅθεν Πηλεΐδης πατρωνυμικῶς ὁ τοῦ Πηλέως υἱὸς καὶ κλίνεται Πηλεΐδου. τὸ δὲ Ἰωνικὸν παράγεται οὕτως· Πηλεύς Πηλῆος, ὥσπερ Ἀχιλλεύς Ἀχιλλῆος, Ὀδυσσεύς Ὀδυσσῆος, βασιλεύς βασιλῆος, καὶ ἄλλα μυρία. 30 31

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 11/12/2018, SPi

The Evidence from Poetics 21

113

which Homer or the paradosis was criticized or challenged because of the usage of a certain shortened or lengthened word.37 I think it possible (if not probable) that Aristotle took part in such discussions and debates, or addressed such issues. And there is confirmation of this at Poet. 22.1458a34–b7, which although specifically discussing tragic poetry clearly applies to epic as well. Aristotle writes that “Lengthenings and abridgements and alterations of names contribute no small part to [both] the clarity of diction and [its] not being idiomatic.”38 After explaining why these modifications can produce clarity while being unusual, he adds: “Therefore those who object to this manner of speech and ridicule the poet [i.e. Homer]39 are not right to find fault [with him].”40 This passage provides a nice transition to the brief passage in Poetics 21 on the alteration of words.

6.5. ALTERED WORDS (1458A5–7) Aristotle writes: “And it is altered when of the thing named he leaves part and makes up part, such as ‘on the right-most breast’ instead of ‘right.’”41 The alteration in his example is changing δεξιόν to δεξιτερόν. It is not immediately clear why this is not an example of a lengthened word (which includes lengthening by an inserted syllable). In any case, as we saw, in the passage from Poetics 22 quoted 37 I know of one possible example: In Il. 18.385 and 18.424, the verse is τίπτε Θέτι τανύπεπλε ἱκάνεις ἡμέτερον δῶ. Zenodotus, however, thought that in both cases it should read τίπτε Θέτις τανύπεπλος ἱκάνεις ἡμέτερον δέ. (Schol. A Il. 18.385b2 and 18.424: παρὰ Ζηνοδότῳ “ἡμέτερον δέ” καὶ “Θέτις τανύπεπλος ἱκάνεις”.) 38 οὐκ ἐλάχιστον δὲ μέρος συμβάλλεται εἰς τὸ σαφὲς τῆς λέξεως καὶ μὴ ἰδιωτικὸν αἱ ἐπεκτάσεις καὶ ἀποκοπαὶ καὶ ἐξαλλαγαὶ τῶν ὀνομάτων. 39 We can be pretty certain that Aristotle is referring to Homer here because (a) in the Poetics “the poet”—not otherwise specified—always refers to Homer, and (b) Aristotle goes on to give as an example “the old Euclides” (οἷον Εὐκλείδης ὁ ἀρχαῖος), perhaps a comic poet, and his parody of epic hexameters (1458b7–11). See Janko (1987, 134–5). 40 ὥστε οὐκ ὀρθῶς ψέγουσιν οἱ ἐπιτιμῶντες τῷ τοιούτῳ τρόπῳ τῆς διαλέκτου καὶ διακωμῳδοῦντες τὸν ποιητήν. 41 ἐξηλλαγμένον δ’ ἐστὶν ὅταν τοῦ ὀνομαζομένου τὸ μὲν καταλείπῃ τὸ δὲ ποιῇ, οἷον τὸ “δεξιτερὸν κατὰ μαζόν” [Il. 5.393] ἀντὶ τοῦ δεξιόν. Forms of δεξιτερός appear in three other places in the Iliad (10.373, 11.377, 16.405). Note Cunliffe s.v. δεξιτερός: “in form comp. of prec. [i.e. δεξιός] with changed accent”—i.e. if it were a genuine comparative, one would expect δεξίτερος rather than δεξιτερός.

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 11/12/2018, SPi

114

Aristotle’s Lost Homeric Problems

above, Homeric ἐξαλλαγή was a poetic practice that some people criticized, and which criticism Aristotle objected to. We know further that what kind of word δεξιτερόν is and what word it derives from were topics of debate in antiquity. Here are four examples: 1. Plutarch, Table Talk 5.4 (Mor. 677D) But if [Homer] said ‘purer’ rather than ‘pure,’ just as [he said] ‘more right’ rather than ‘right’ and ‘more female’ rather than ‘female,’ it would not be strange; for it is usual [for him] to use the comparatives rather than [or ‘in place of ’] the positives.42 2. Philoxenus fr. 340 (Theodoridis) ex Et.Gen. s.v. δεξιτερός δεξιτερός: If this is from δεξιός, it ought to be δεξιώτερος, like λογιώτερος. Therefore its form is paronym; for δεξιερός comes from δεξιός, as ἀριστερός [comes from] ἄριστος, φθονερός [from] φθόνος, μογερός [from] μόγος, and it is δεξιτερός through the addition of the letter τ. Thus Philoxenus.43 3. Schol. Ge Il. 5.393 (Nicole) δεξιτερός is not a comparative, for then the last syllable would not be accented; for comparatives in -τερος do not accent the last syllable. But δεξιτερός and ἀριστερός are paronyms, and this is why the accent was put on the last syllable.44 4. Eustathius, Il. 11.377 (3.215.5–7) Now δεξιτερός comes from δεξιά by the addition of the letter τ, in order that it will become like its opposite ἀριστερός. For just as ἀριστερός is from ἄριστος, so δεξιτερός is from δεξιός.45

One view (presented by Plutarch) is that Homer’s δεξιτερόν is a non standard comparative of δεξιός.46 The other three texts, however, all seem to be making a different claim: Just as ἀριστερός 42 εἰ δ’ ἀντὶ τοῦ ζωροῦ ‘ζωρότερον’ εἶπεν, ὥσπερ ‘δεξιτερὸν’ ἀντὶ τοῦ δεξιοῦ καί ‘θηλύτερον’ ἀντὶ τοῦ θήλεος, οὐκ ἄτοπον εἶναι· χρῆσθαι γὰρ ἐπιεικῶς ἀντὶ τῶν ἁπλῶν τοῖς συγκριτικοῖς. 43 δεξιτερός· εἰ ἐστιν ἀπὸ τοῦ δεξιός, ὤφειλεν εἶναι δεξιώτερος, ὡς λογιώτερος. ἔστιν οὖν παρώνυμος ὁ χαρακτήρ· παρὰ γὰρ τὸ δεξιὸς γίνεται δεξιερός, ὡς ἄριστος ἀριστερός, φθόνος φθονερός, μόγος μογερός, καὶ πλεονασμῷ τοῦ τ δεξιτερός. οὕτως Φιλόξενος. 44 τὸ “δεξιτερὸν” οὐκ ἔστι συγκριτικόν· ἐβαρύνετο γὰρ ἄν· τὰ γὰρ εἰς τερος συγκριτικὰ βαρύνονται· τὸ δὲ δεξιτερός καὶ ἀριστερός παρώνυμα, διὸ καὶ ὠξύνθησαν. 45 γίνεται δὲ τὸ δεξιτερόν ἀπὸ τοῦ δεξιά πλεονασμῷ τοῦ τ, ἵνα ἐξομοιωθῇ πρὸς τὸ ἀντίθετον ἀριστερόν. ὡς γὰρ ἐκ τοῦ ἀρίστου ἀριστερόν, οὕτως ἐκ τοῦ δεξιοῦ δεξιτερόν. 46 The idea that δεξιτερός is a non standard or faux comparative of δεξιός is well captured in Janko’s translation of the two words as ‘righter’ and ‘right’ respectively (1987, 30).

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 11/12/2018, SPi

The Evidence from Poetics 21

115

(‘left, on the left’) comes from ἄριστος (‘best’) and is not a comparative, so δεξιτερός (meaning ‘right, on the right’) is from δεξιός (the standard meaning of which is ‘right, on the right’, though it can also mean ‘fortunate,’ ‘clever,’ etc., which is likely what these authors intend here) and is not a comparative. So on this view, δεξιτερός and ἀριστερός are paronyms, in that the difference between ἄριστος and ἀριστερός is the addition of -ερ-, and the difference between δεξιός and δεξιτερός is the addition of -τερ-. I conclude that Aristotle likely discussed such issues (and even this very word, δεξιτερόν) in the Homeric Problems, though in what context it is difficult to determine. I assume that of the above two views, he too would have classified δεξιτερόν as a paronym, and defended the use of such words by Homer.47

6.6. THE EVIDENCE FROM STRABO I here want to follow up on a brief suggestion of Janko (1987, 131), namely, that related passages on poetic lengthenings and shortenings, in Strabo 8.5.3 and Poetics 21, may have the same source, namely, the Homeric Problems. Before I proceed, I think it is important to note that there is other evidence that Strabo was aware—directly or indirectly—of the (content of the) Homeric Problems: A passage of his on what came to be called the Achaean Wall (13.1.36) is considered—quite rightly, I think—a fragment of the work (fr. 162 Rose/402 Gigon). It concerns the wall that Agamemnon announces his plan to build, to protect their ships (Il. 7.336–43 and 433–63), and which is later mentioned (Il. 12.1–33) in a preview of its destruction by the gods after the war. Strabo writes: What is now still called the Naval Anchorage is so near the present-day city [i.e. Ilion in the time of Strabo] that it would be reasonable to 47 Janko has argued, based on the Tractatus Coislinianus and related texts, that Aristotle classified as paronyms the following modifications discussed in Poetics 21: lengthening, shortening, and alteration (1984, 30–1 and 175–81). I agree with Janko but cannot reproduce his arguments here. I merely mention that in the Tractatus, under the heading παρωνυμία (one type of laughter from speech is κατὰ παρωνυμίαν, ‘from paronym’) comes παρὰ πρόσθεσιν καὶ ἀφαίρεσιν (‘by addition and subtraction’) (see fols. 248v [bottom] and 249r [top]; reproductions in Janko (1984), between pp. 8–9).

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 11/12/2018, SPi

116

Aristotle’s Lost Homeric Problems

wonder somewhat about the senselessness of the [Greeks] and the lack of spirit of those on the opposite side [i.e. the Trojans]. Senselessness, if [the Greeks] had it [i.e. the Naval Anchorage] unwalled for such a long time, while nearby was the city and such a multitude, both those in it [i.e. Ilion] and the allies; for [Homer] says the wall had only recently come into existence—or it did not exist, but the poet, having invented it, made it disappear, as Aristotle says.48

Strabo goes on to describe the possible lack of spirit of the Trojans. There is an implied Homeric problem here, and a hint at Aristotle’s solution to it.49 But as I said above, what is important in the present context is Strabo’s apparent awareness of the Homeric Problems. Strabo begins his discussion of Greece in Book 8 of his Geographica, and after a general introduction (ch. 1) deals in the next four chapters with the Peloponnesus (2), Elea (3), Messenia (4), and Laconia (5). The third section of ch. 5 (i.e. 8.5.3) is devoted to the city of Messê, one of three Laconian cities mentioned in one verse in the Catalogue of Ships in Iliad 2: “Pharis and Sparta, and Messê of the many doves” (582).50 Strabo writes: “They say that of the [places] catalogued by Homer Messê is nowhere portrayed . . . But some take it to be an abridged form of ‘Messenê’;51 for it is said that this too was a part of Laconia.”52 To support this claim, he indicates—with καὶ μὴν τό γε ναύσταθμον τὸ νῦν ἔτι λεγόμενον πλησίον οὕτως ἐστὶ τῆς νῦν πόλεως ὥστε θαυμάζειν εἰκότως ἄν τινα τῶν μὲν τῆς ἀπονοίας, τῶν δὲ τοὐναντίον τῆς ἀψυχίας. ἀπονοίας μέν, εἰ τοσοῦτον χρόνον ἀτείχιστον αὐτὸ εἶχον, πλησίον οὔσης τῆς πόλεως καὶ τοσούτου πλήθους τοῦ τ’ ἐν αὐτῇ καὶ τοῦ ἐπικουρικοῦ· νεωστὶ γὰρ γεγονέναι φησὶ τὸ τεῖχος—ἢ οὐδ’ ἐγένετο, ὁ δὲ πλάσας ποιητὴς ἠφάνισεν, ὡς Ἀριστοτέλης φησίν. Cf. Eust. Il. 7.445–63 (2.494.3–6): Διὰ δὲ τοῦ παντελοῦς αὖθις ἀφανισμοῦ διαφεύγει τὸν τοῦ ψεύδους ἔλεγχον, αὐτὸς ποιήσας τὸ τεῖχος, αὐτὸς ἀφαντώσας, ὡς καὶ Ἀριστοτέλης δηλοῖ, ὅπου ἔφη ὅτι τὸ τεῖχος ὁ φράσας ποιητὴς ἠφάνισε. 49 This Homeric problem and (inter alia) Aristotle’s solution to it are discussed at length in Porter (2011) and Bouchard (2016, 273–83). See also Hintenlang (1961, 41–3), Huxley (1979, 79–80), Hainsworth (1993, 316–17), and Breitenberger (2006, 404–6). 50 Φᾶρίν τε Σπάρτην τε πολυτρήρωνά τε Μέσσην. Strabo often refers to the Catalogue of Ships when discussing Greece. See in book 8 alone: 3.3, 19, 29, 32; 4.1; 5.8; 6.10, 19. 51 Strabo himself says this at 8.3.29 and 8.4.1. Note also these two scholia: Μέσσην: ὅτι Μέσσην τὴν ἐπὶ τῆς Λακωνικῆς Μεσσήνην λέγει, συγκόψας τοὔνομα (schol. A Il. 2.582), and Μέσσην: τὴν καλουμένην Μεσσήνην (schol. D Il. 2.582). 52 Τῶν δ’ ὑφ’ Ὁμήρου καταλεγομένων τὴν μὲν Μέσσην οὐδαμοῦ δείκνυσθαί φασι . . . . ἔνιοι δὲ κατὰ ἀποκοπὴν δέχονται τὴν Μεσσήνην· εἴρηται γὰρ ὅτι καὶ αὕτη μέρος ἦν τῆς Λακωνικῆς. On this passage, see Radt (2007, 444–5). Hope Simpson and Lazenby (1970, 76) dismiss Strabo’s suggestion: “Strabo . . . says that some regarded 48

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 11/12/2018, SPi

The Evidence from Poetics 21

117

examples (παραδείγμασι) from Homer and others—the practice of poetic abridgement (ἀποκοπή). What follows is a list of these examples, in the order in which they appear (with the authors indicated in parentheses); on the right are the three examples from Aristotle, in the order in which they appear in Poetics 21. Strabo 8.5.3 κρῖ < κριθή (Homer) δῶ < δῶμα (Homer) μάψ < ???? (Homer) Ἄλκιμος < Ἀλκιμέδων53 (Homer) βρῖ < βριθύ and βριαρόν (Hesiod) ῥᾴ < ῥᾴδιον (Sophocles and Ion) λῖ < λίαν (Epicharmus) Συρακώ < Συράκουσσαι (?)54 (Epicharmus) ὄψ < ὄψις55 (Empedocles and Antimachus) ἄλφι < ἄλφιτον (Antimachus) ἧλ < ἧλον (Euphorion) ἔρι < ἔριον (Philetas) πηδά < πηδάλια (Aratus) Δωδὼ < Δωδώνην (Simmias)56

Aristotle, Poetics 21 κρῖ < κριθή (Homer) δῶ < δῶμα (Homer)

ὄψ < ὄψις (Empedocles)

Messe as unknown, others as a shortened form of Μεσσήνη (!), but despite this, it seems reasonable to identify it with Pausanias’ ‘Messa’ (3.25.9–10)” (exclamation point in the original). See also Kirk (1985, 213). Pausanias’ Messa is on the west coast of the Tainaron peninsula, the southernmost point of mainland Greece. 53 Strabo writes καὶ ἔτι “ἥρως δ’ Αὐτομέδων τε καὶ Ἄλκιμος”, ἀντὶ τοῦ Ἀλκιμέδων. He seems to have conflated Il. 24.474 and 574 (ἥρως Αὐτομέδων τε καὶ Ἄλκιμος) and Il. 19.392 (ἵππους δ’ Αὐτομέδων τε καὶ Ἄλκιμος). In any case, the point is that Homer wrote Αὐτομέδων τε καὶ Ἄλκιμος instead of Αὐτομέδων τε καὶ Ἀλκιμέδων. 54 Strabo writes Συρακὼ δὲ τὰς Συρακούσσας, which may mean “ ‘Συρακώ’ [refers to] the Syracusians.” He seems to claim that Συρακώ is a shortened form of Συράκουσσαι (the plural being a standard way of referring to the city; see LSJ s.v. Συράκουσαι, αἱ: Syracuse). 55 Strabo writes: παρ’ Ἐμπεδοκλεῖ δέ “μία γίνεται ἀμφοτέρων ὄψ” ἡ ὄψις· καὶ παρ’ Ἀντιμάχῳ “Δήμητρός τοι Ἐλευσινίης· ἱερὴ ὄψ”. See above, note 32. 56 I explain these italics in the next paragraph. For the remainder of 8.5.3, Strabo returns to other Laconian cities in the Catalogue of Ships that cannot be readily identified: he says that some no longer exist, some are gone although traces of them remain, and some still exist but their names have changed. As an example of this last, he claims that the name Αὐγειαί (Il. 2.583) was changed to Αἰγαιαί (which Kirk (1985, 213) says cannot be right). The change from Αὐγειαί to Αἰγαιαί does not seem to fit Aristotle’s description of altered words (Poet. 21.1458a5–7), so I do not list it or pursue the possibility that this passage from Strabo might be evidence of something in the Homeric Problems. The meaning of Strabo’s final example (Λᾶς, Λάας in Homer;

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 11/12/2018, SPi

118

Aristotle’s Lost Homeric Problems

I find it interesting and possibly significant that Strabo gives four examples from Homer (five if one counts Μέσση), and that the first two are the same as Aristotle’s examples in Poetics 21 (and in the same order). This suggests that they have the same source, and so provides some additional support, however minor, for the idea that Poetics 21 draws on and/or reflects the content of the Homeric Problems. So I find it quite possible that Aristotle discussed κρῖ, δῶ, μάψ, Ἄλκιμος, and perhaps Μέσση there, and weighed in on scholarly disputes about these shortenings (in general defending Homer). That Aristotle and Strabo both included the same example from Empedocles points to the further possibility that Aristotle compiled a list of examples ranging beyond Homer to include tragedy (e.g. Sophocles) and comedy (e.g. Epicharmus)57 and even philosophy in verse (Empedocles), and that the longer list appeared in the Homeric Problems, a much abbreviated one in Poetics 21. This is supported somewhat by the fact that the three authors that postdate Aristotle (Euphorion, Philetas, and Aratus) come at the end of Strabo’s list. The last-named author (Simmias, fifth/fourth century) likely was not on Aristotle’s list but came from Strabo or the source from which Strabo got Euphorion, Philetas, and Aratus. (This is the reason I have italicized the last four entries.) In conclusion, I want to further speculate about whether Aristotle might have debated or discussed the Homeric shortenings mentioned by Strabo but not in Poetics 21, namely Μέσση, μάψ, and Ἄλκιμος.58 I have little to add regarding Μέσση as a shortening of Μεσσήνη: It fits Aristotle’s description of shortening in Poetics 21, and if as I think may have been the case his list of examples in the Homeric Problems was much longer than the three items in Poetics 21, that may well have included Μέσση. Of course, it is also possible that Strabo on his own applied what he learned (directly or indirectly) about shortenings from Aristotle to the case of the Laconian city of Μέσση in the Catalogue of Ships. see Il. 2.585 and Kirk (1985, 214)) is not that the name was changed or that Λᾶς is an abridgement, but that its inhabitants came to be called Λαπέρσαι, i.e. Sackers of Las. 57 See Poet. 3.1448a33 and 5.1449b6. On this latter, compare On Poets fr. 34 Janko, with Janko (2011, 492–3) and Tarán and Gutas (2012, 245 and 334–6). 58 As I mentioned above, there was discussion among ancient Homeric scholars about which word a shortened form originally came from (and so about what it means), as well as disagreements about such things. See section 4, pp. 111–12 above, with notes 30–6 (which refer to κρῖ and δῶ, about which I have nothing to add here).

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 11/12/2018, SPi

The Evidence from Poetics 21

119

The word μάψ appears seven times in the Iliad (2.20, 2.214, 5.759, 13.627, 15.40, 20.298, 20.348) and twice in the Odyssey (3.138, 16.111). There is not much commentary among ancient Homeric scholars on μάψ, and what there is pertains almost exclusively to its meaning: it is said to be a synonym of μάτην and ματαίως.59 And this is correct: μάψ, μάτην, and ματαίως60 are all three adverbs meaning ‘in vain’ or ‘idly.’ Eustathius (or more likely his source) went further and claimed that μάψ was an Aeolian shorthand derived from μάτην.61 If Aristotle did discuss μάψ in his Homeric Problems, perhaps it was to claim or argue that it is not simply a synonym of μάτην and ματαίως, nor is it derived from μάτην; rather, he might have argued that it is a shortening of μαψιδίως.62 And this would seem to be correct: there are seventeen occurrences of μαψιδίως in Homer (two in the Iliad, the rest in the Odyssey; see e.g. Il. 5.374). Taking μάψ to be a shortening of μαψιδίως better accounts for its appearance in Strabo, following κρῖ and δῶ, than taking it to be a shortening or alteration of μάτην or ματαίως. I end with a more complicated (and uncertain) example from Strabo’s list: Ἄλκιμος as an abridgement of Ἀλκιμέδων. The longer or standard forms appear more often in Homer: the nominative Ἀλκιμέδων (Il. 16.197, 17.467, 17.481), the vocative Ἀλκίμεδον (Il. 17.475, 17.501), and the accusative Ἀλκιμέδοντα (Il. 17.500). The nominative Ἄλκιμος (in place of Ἀλκιμέδων) appears three times (Il. 19.392, 24.474, 24.574). The little relevant evidence indicates that there was disagreement among ancient Homeric scholars over whether Ἄλκιμος was the product of shortening or metaplasm.63 I think it quite possible that Aristotle engaged in this debate or 59 E.g.: Hesychius μ 438 (μάψ· μάτην, ματαίως); Suda μ 311 (μάψ· ματαίως); schol. D Il. 2.120 (μάψ· μάτην); schol. D Il. 15.40 (μάψ. ψευδῶς, ματαίως). 60 ματαίως is the adverbial form of μάταιος, which means vain, empty, idle. 61 Eust. Il. 2.120 (1.287.20): Αἰολέων δὲ ἡ τοῦ μάψ βραχυλογία ἐκ τοῦ μάτην (van der Valk in his apparatus writes fontem nescio). 62 LSJ s.v. μαψίδιος II: “in Hom. only Adv. μαψιδίως, = μάψ.” Kirk (1990, 100) claims that “μαψιδίως is an expanded form . . . of μάψ.” Beekes (2010, 2: 917) regards μαψιδίος/-ως as derivative of μάψ (which he claims is likely pre-Greek), and sees no connection between it and μάτην and ματαίως (2: 913–14). 63 Schol. A Il. 24.574: Ἄλκιμος: ὅτι συγκέκοφε τὸν Ἀλκιμέδοντα Ἄλκιμον εἰπών. Schol. D Il. 19.392: Ἄλκιμος: Ἀλκιμέδων, ὑποκοριστικῶς. Schol. bT Il. 24.474: κατὰ μεταπλασμὸν ὁ “Ἀλκιμέδων”, ὡς “Μελάνθιος” καὶ “Μελανθεύς”. Dickey’s entry for μεταπλασμός is: “metaplasm (formation of case or tense forms from a non-existent nominative or present base form), transformation, poetic license” (2007, 246). Note Edwards (1991, 280): “Alkimos is a shortened form of Alkimedon.”

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 11/12/2018, SPi

120

Aristotle’s Lost Homeric Problems

otherwise discussed this issue, because although Ἄλκιμος is shorter in length than Ἀλκιμέδων, it does not fit Aristotle’s description of shortening: i.e. it does not merely cut off some of the word from which it is derived (cf. δῶ for δῶμα).64 In this case, -έδων is cut off and -ος is added, which would make this more an example of alteration than of shortening. It is unfortunate that we lack independent evidence of Aristotle’s views here. For if Aristotle would not have classified Ἄλκιμος as an example of shortening (and I think that likely), then it is that much more likely that Strabo knew what he knew of the Homeric Problems indirectly. Perhaps all that he had access to was a corrupted list of the words that Aristotle discussed under the heading ‘shortenings,’ but not the discussions themselves or what Aristotle concluded about each of these words. So there are severe limits to how much detail we can recover regarding Aristotle’s discussion in the Homeric Problems of the kinds of words classified according to usage or form. Nevertheless, I think that Poetics 21 (together with Strabo 8.5.3) provides us with evidence of what he did discuss there. And his discussions of these words, I suspect, would not have been part of solutions to particular Homeric problems, but rather part of a general defense of Homer’s use of unusual language, and why “we grant these to the poets.”

64 The only other example in Strabo’s list that is not the product of simply cutting off part of the source word is Συρακώ, which Strabo perhaps thought was a shortened form of Συράκουσσαι (though there is no reason to think Aristotle thought so).

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 8/12/2018, SPi

Part III Studies on Select (and Usually Neglected) Fragments

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 8/12/2018, SPi

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 8/12/2018, SPi

7 Aristotle on the Meaning of τάλαντον in Iliad 23 At the funeral games in honor of Patroclus, the first event is the chariot race, and Achilles announces prior to the race the prizes for the five charioteers (Il. 23.262–70): in first place, a slave woman skilled in crafts, and a tripod of twenty-two measures; in second place, an unbroken six-year-old mare, carrying within her a mule foal; in third place, an unfired cauldron of four measures; “in fourth place he set out two talents of gold” (τῷ δὲ τετάρτῳ θῆκε δύω χρυσοῖο τάλαντα, 269); and in fifth place, an unfired two-handled bowl. Some ancient Homeric scholars found problematic the granting of the prize of two talents of gold to the charioteer who comes in fourth place. Surely, it was thought, two talents of gold were worth more than each of the other prizes. Scholia on a number of folios in several Homeric manuscripts indicate that Aristotle offered a solution to this problem, involving the meaning of the word τάλαντον and/or the value of a τάλαντον. Although this fragmentary material has received some scholarly attention, I find its presentation—in editions of the scholia and in the collections of the fragments of Aristotle—not always clear or complete, and the discussion of this material not always or entirely satisfactory.1 So I think it is worth taking a fresh look at the available evidence. The Homeric manuscripts that most concern me (using the abbreviations in West [1998, lix]) are: F (Scorial. Ω.Ι.12 (509)), T (Lond. Bibl. Brit. Burney 86), and B (Marc. gr. 821 [Venetus B])—all eleventh century. 1 More on previous scholarship in due course. An overview of the relationship between the scholia that I discuss in this chapter and the related texts in five editions of Aristotle fragments is displayed below in the appendix.

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 8/12/2018, SPi

124

Aristotle’s Lost Homeric Problems

As noted earlier, ms. B contains two levels of scholia (eleventh century and thirteenth century). Both of these are relevant in what follows. (Again, ‘B*’ refers to the later scholia.) As will become clear, however, it is the F and T scholia that ultimately matter most. Finally, although there is no relevant Aristotelian material in the margins of ms. A (Marc. gr. 822 [Venetus A]), tenth century, one scholium therein has a role to play in what follows in helping to determine more precisely which parts of two related scholia should be attributed to Aristotle (or so I shall argue).2 Before turning to our scholia, I should note that τάλαντον had an even broader range of meanings than concerns me here. BDAG (s.v. τάλαντον) gives two different (though related) meanings: [1] balance and (in plural) scales and scale-pans; and [2] talent, “weight and value, always in gold in Homer . . . , in post-Homeric-writers, a commercial weight or a monetary sum that varies according to the system of measurement.”3 In what follows, I am concerned (almost) exclusively with ambiguities that arise in this second class of meaning only. To return to Aristotle and the scholia, the bulk of the available evidence clearly divides into two groups: F and B* scholia, and T and 2 Thanks in large part to the Homer Multitext project, and the libraries that cooperated with it, I have been able to consult all of the relevant manuscripts (with two minor exceptions), and make my own transcriptions. Details to follow. (This does not diminish my gratitude to the editors who have come before me, whose own transcriptions I have relied upon.) The two exceptions are: Li (Lipsiensis gr. 32) and Le (Leidensis gr. 64), both fifteenth century. The scholia therein, however, are derived from those in B* and F, respectively (see MacPhail 2011, 9–10), and have been useful to editors in correcting errors in B* and F, but they rarely concern me here. In any case, I did not consult these manuscripts, but relied on MacPhail’s apparatus criticus. 3 This is similar to the entry in LSJ. See, among ancient descriptions, Pollux, Onomasticon 9.54, Photius, Lexicon τ 17 (τάλαντον), Suda τ 33, Etymologicum Magnum 744.18–37. Some scholars (as far back as Ridgeway (1887)) have claimed that in Homer a talent of gold was the equivalent of the value of an ox. This is an interesting, but highly speculative, hypothesis. It does not help in the present context, however, and if true would only underscore the Homeric problem with which I am here concerned. Bobokhyan (2009, 20) writes: “Homer’s τάλαντον was the small round ingot (Aristoteles, Schol B to Il. XXIII: 269), which supposedly represents the value of an ox” (at this point he cites four secondary sources, beginning with Ridgeway (1887)). This claim attributed to Aristotle is completely inaccurate (as that scholium says nothing of the kind). But it is worth noting that oxen are sometimes used to determine value: In the third event in the funeral games (the wrestling contest), Achilles says the winner will receive a large fired tripod, equal to twelve oxen in value, the loser a skilled woman, equal to four oxen (Il. 23.702–5). In the eighth (and final) event (the spear throw), Achilles sets out one prize, for the winner: an unfired painted cauldron, equal in value to an ox (885–6). Note as well that in Iliad 6, Diomedes’ bronze armor is said to be worth nine oxen, Glaukos’ gold armor one hundred oxen (235–6).

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 8/12/2018, SPi

Aristotle on the Meaning of τάλαντον in Iliad 23

125

B scholia. I leave open here the question of the relationship between them. Further, there is a neglected but relevant Aristotle text— another B* scholium—which I discuss briefly after considering the above two sets of texts.

7.1. THE SCHOLIA IN F (FOL. 197R), B* (FOL. 23R), AND B* (FOL. 175R) Though I include three scholia in this group, only one is of primary importance: F (fol. 197r).4 The other two—B* (fol. 23r) and B* (fol. 175r)—are not only later chronologically, they are virtually identical and clearly derived from the first (or its source). The F scholium does not begin with a lemma, but with a letter (θ) also found beside the verse on which it is a comment, namely Il. 23.269: τῷ δὲ τετάρτῳ θῆκε δύω χρυσοῖο τάλαντα (“and in fourth place he set out two talents of gold”). Here is my edited transcription, with translation, of the relevant text:5 Πορφυρίου· διὰ τί ὁ Ἀχιλλεὺς [ἐν] τῷ τετάρτῳ ⟨ἐν⟩ ἀγῶνι6 πλεῖστον ἀποδίδωσιν ἆθλον; τὰ γὰρ δύο τάλαντα τοῦ χρυσοῦ πλεῖον ἵππου καὶ γυναικός· ὅτι δὲ οὐκ ὀλίγον ἦν σημεῖον ὅτι ἐν Λιταῖς προτίθησι δέκα τάλαντα χρυσοῦ πρὸς πολλῇ προικί· λύων οὖν ὁ Ἀριστοτέλης τὸ τάλαντον οὔτε ἴσον φησὶ τότε καὶ νῦν εἶναι, οὔτε ἀφωρισμένῳ χρῆσθαι σταθμῷ, ἀλλὰ μέτρον τι μόνον εἶναι·7 ὡς καὶ φιάλη σχῆμά τι

4 To avoid having to say (every time) e.g. ‘the scholium on F (fol. 197r),’ I refer to these either by the folio on which they are found, or simply by e.g. ‘the F scholium.’ 5 The image I consulted was made possible by the Real Monaste rio de San Lorenzo de El Escoria, José Luis del Valle Merino, O.S.A., Director. The derivative image is ©2010, The University of Kentucky, Center for Visualization and Virtual Environments (http://shot.holycross.edu/hmt-image-archive/E4/E4-Pages/197r-345.jpg). Although I sometimes disagree with MacPhail’s rendering of this passage (2011, 257), I did profit from consulting his translation. 6 The scholia in F and the other manuscripts read ἐν τῷ τετάρτῳ ἀγῶνι (which is most naturally taken to mean “in the fourth contest”—which is how MacPhail translates it, though this makes no sense, as the chariot race is the first contest). I think relocating the ἐν, however awkward, works (“to the fourth in contest”) and is less intrusive than Erbse’s suggestion (see below, note 12). 7 Rose (1886, 130–1) includes this text (as fr. 164.1) up to μόνον εἶναι. He relied on Le. (fol. 476v), but that makes no difference here, as it is virtually identical. Fr. 388.3 in Gigon (1987, 535) is the same as Rose fr. 164.1. Cf. Heitz (1869, 141), fr. 189b.2 (149b sic).

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 8/12/2018, SPi

126

Aristotle’s Lost Homeric Problems

ἀφωρισμένον ἔχον σταθμόν, μέτρον δέ οὐκέτι.8 καὶ τὸ τάλαντον δὲ μέτρον τί ἐστι, πόσον δὲ οὐκ[έτι]9 ἀφωρισμένον· διὸ καὶ τὸ ἀντικείμενον αὐτοῖς ὑπερφίαλον καὶ ἀτάλαντον. ὥσπερ γὰρ τὸ ὑπερφίαλον τὸ πολὺ σημαίνει καὶ ἄμετρον, ὡς τῆς φιάλης ἀμέτρου10 οὔσης· ὑπερφίαλος γὰρ ὁ ὑπερβάλλων τῇ ἀμετρίᾳ τὸ μέτρον τῆς φιάλης, οὕτω καὶ ἀτάλαντος ὁ ἐξῃρημένος τοῦ μέτρου τοῦ κατὰ τὸ τάλαντον. ὁ δὲ ἐκ τῶν ἀνίσων ἐκβεβηκὼς ἴσος ἂν εἴη. ὁ γὰρ οὐκ ἄνισος, οὗτος καὶ ἀτάλαντος. ὁ δὲ τὸ ἄνισον τῶν ταλάντων μὴ ἔχων, διὸ καὶ ἴσος.11 ὃ γὰρ ἐν ἄλλοις ἔφη “ἶσος Ἐνυαλίῳ”, τοῦτο δεδήλωκεν ἐν τῷ “ἀτάλαντος Ἄρηι” :—12 From Porphyry: Why does Achilles give the greatest prize to the fourth place? For two talents of gold are more than a horse and a woman. And a sign that it was not small is that in Entreaties [= Iliad 9] [Agamemnon] proposes ten talents of gold in addition to the large gift [Il. 9.121–4]. Now Aristotle, offering a solution, says that the talent then and now are not equal, nor is it furnished with a defined weight,13 but is merely some measure—as a bowl too is some defined shape having a weight, but not now a [defined] measure.14 And the talent too is some measure, but how

8 Rose (1863, 155) emends the line as follows: ὡς καὶ φιάλη σχῆμά τι ἀφωρισμένον ⟨οὐκ⟩ ἔχον σταθμόν, μέτρον δέ [οὐκέ]τι (“as a bowl too is some shape having a defined weight, but {not now} some measure”). This may be right. (Curly brackets in the translation correspond to an editor’s square brackets in the Greek text, as square brackets in a translation serve another purpose.) 9 The text makes more sense (or only makes sense) if οὐκέτι is emended to οὐκ (or perhaps to οὐκ ἔστιν). This οὐκέτι may be the result of dittography, as οὐκέτι also appears in the previous line. 10 I print F’s ἀμέτρου (‘without measure’), though editors tend to favor the ἐμμέτρου (‘within measure’ or ‘with due measure’) of Le2. B* has ἀμμέτρου, which so far as I can tell is not a word. 11 I suspect this line might have originally been a gloss (attempting to explain what precedes it) that made its way into Porphyry’s text. Note too that δέ in this sentence is surrounded by dots in the manuscript, indicating that the scribe found it doubtful. It is not found in the other versions of this text (e.g. B* (fol. 23r) and B* (fol. 175r)). See MacPhail’s apparatus criticus for details (2011, 256). 12 Erbse prints most of this text in his apparatus of parallel passages, in connection with his schol. Il. 23.269a (1977, 409), including: “ἐν τῷ τετάρτῳ ἀγῶνι (sic; fort. τῷ τετάρτῳ ἐν τῷ ἱππικῷ ἀγῶνι sim.)”—i.e. “to the fourth in the chariot contest.” Our text includes a standard mark (:—) indicating the end of the scholium. 13 MacPhail might be right to render οὔτε ἀφωρισμένῳ χρῆσθαι σταθμῷ ‘nor use a defined weight.’ 14 One may plausibly argue that ἀφωρισμένῳ . . . σταθμῷ in the previous line counts against taking ἀφωρισμένον here with σχῆμά (rather than with σταθμόν). I think it possible, however, that Aristotle was saying that a bowl has a definite shape (it is a defining feature of a bowl), and some weight, but not or no longer a definite measure— and this is in a sense analogous with the case of the talent. Nevertheless, as I indicate above (see note 8), there may well be something wrong with the text.

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 8/12/2018, SPi

Aristotle on the Meaning of τάλαντον in Iliad 23

127

much is not {now} defined. And this is why what is opposite to them [i.e. to bowl and to talent] are ‘over-the-bowl’15 and ‘not-a-talent’ [atalantos].16 Indeed, just as ‘over-the-bowl’ signifies what is a lot and without measure, as the bowl is without measure—for what exceeds the measure of a bowl without measure is over-the-bowl—so too what has transcended the measure in the talent is ‘not-a-talent.’ Now what has gone beyond unequals could be equal. For what is not unequal, this is indeed not-a-talent. And what does not involve the inequality of the talents, this is in fact why it is equal.17 For what he elsewhere said is “equal to Enyalius” [Il. 22.132], this he meant in “atalantos to Ares” [Il. 2.627 etc.]. :—

Before offering an interpretation of this passage, I want to say a word about the two B* scholia, which are virtually identical to the one just presented. They both lack the statement of the problem. For the rest (with the minor exceptions indicated shortly), the only differences among these two and F (fol. 197r) are variations in individual words (see the apparatus in MacPhail 2011, 256), one or more of which is simply mistaken. I think it is clear that both B* scholia are derivative applications of the more genuine or original material in F (fol. 197r). B* (fol. 23r) has no lemma, but begins with a symbol (⁜) that also marks the words μῆτιν ἀτάλαντον in the text (at Il. 2.169): “atalantos in council.”18 The scholium begins λύων οὖν ὁ Ἀριστοτέλης κτλ. (“Now Aristotle, offering a solution” etc.), and, as I said, it is for the rest virtually identical. But as this scholium does not begin with any problem to be solved, it is clearly derivative. A scribe took from elsewhere what included a ready-made explanation of ἀτάλαντον 15 The basic meaning of ὑπερφίαλος is ‘excessive.’ BDAG s.v.: “mighty, very strong, vigorous . . . overweening, arrogant, haughty.” LSJ s.v. includes: “Orig. the word seems only to have signified puissant, without any bad sense . . . (The old deriv. from ὑπὲρ φιάλην, running over . . . is improbable, but modern explanations are unconvincing.)” 16 The author of this passage is treating ἀτάλαντος as if the first letter were an alpha privative, in which case it means ‘not-a-talent’ or ‘lacking-talents.’ I use the former translation here and elsewhere in this scholium, but for the rest transliterate the word. ἀτάλαντος, however, in fact means ‘equal,’ which explains why so much of the remainder of the text involves the attempt to deduce that meaning from ‘not-atalent.’ According to LSJ s.v. ἀτάλαντος, however, the first letter is not an alpha privative: “ἀ- copul., τάλαντον; equal in weight, equivalent to, like, ἀ. Ἄρηϊ Il. 5.576; Διῒ μῆτιν ἀ. equal to Zeus in wisdom, 2.169, etc.” 17 I suspect τῶν ταλάντων refers here to the scales of a balance. See toward the opening of this chapter (p. 124). 18 μῆτιν ἀτάλαντον appears three times in the Iliad (never in the Odyssey): 2.169, 2.407, 10.137. These are three different verses, though they all end Ὀδυσῆα Διὶ μῆτιν ἀτάλαντον.

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 8/12/2018, SPi

128

Aristotle’s Lost Homeric Problems

and copied it here.19 The presentation of the relevant scholium in B* (fol. 175r) makes a bit more sense in context, as λύων οὖν has been omitted, so that it begins “Aristotle says that the talent” etc. Nevertheless, there is no reason to think this is not derivative as well. The scholium is written at the very top of the folio (which includes Il. 13.286–309). There is no other indication of the verse(s) on which it is supposed to be a comment, but I assume it was included here because of the ἀτάλαντος Ἄρηϊ in verse 295. Our F scholium begins with a question in the form of an Aristotelian problêma: “Why (διὰ τί) does Achilles give the greatest prize to the fourth place?” What follows—up to, but not including, the reference to Aristotle—makes clear that the problem is an apparent contradiction: Two talents of gold are worth more than a woman or a horse—the core of the first and second prizes, respectively—and yet it is the fourth prize. (One can imagine Zoilus leveling such an objection against Homer.) The reference to the ten talents of gold, part of the reparations Agamemnon offers Achilles in Iliad 9, is meant as evidence underscoring the apparent contradiction: It is claimed that Homer apparently gives different values to the talent in Iliad 9 and Iliad 23. (I find this claim puzzling, and discuss it in greater detail below, in my conclusion.) What follows is Aristotle’s solution. It is unfortunate that Rose— and so all of the scholars who came after him—ends his presentation of this fragment with μόνον εἶναι. For I think one ought to consider the Aristotle fragment everything at least as far as μέτρον δὲ οὐκέτι, and preferably up to πόσον δὲ οὐκ[έτι] ἀφωρισμένον, as this material seems to be related to Aristotle’s solution (that the τάλαντον in Homer is not a defined weight), whereas what follows (on ἀτάλαντος) does not. This may in fact be all that remains of Aristotle’s ‘original’ in this scholium; on the other hand, it may be that all of it goes back to Aristotle (though I think that unlikely). So if I were editing a collection of this material, I would include the entire text, and leave it to each scholar to try to sort out how much genuine Aristotelian material it contains. In any case, I would be fairly confident about treating the following as a (possibly muddled) paraphrase of Aristotle’s solution, and I shall focus on it: 19

Part of this scholium in B* (fol. 23r) is fr. 167.1 in Heitz (1869, 131). The same part is 164.2 in Rose (1886, 131): Schol. ext. B ad Il. β, 169 ἀτάλαντον (idemque ad Il. ν, 295 ἀτάλαντος Ἄρηι. cf. ad Il. ε, 576): λύων ὁ Ἀριστοτέλης τὸ τάλαντον . . . (ut supra). (I have omitted nothing.) But I do not think B* (fol. 23r) deserves treatment as a second or separate fragment. (It is also presented as such in Breitenberger 2006, 315.)

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 8/12/2018, SPi

Aristotle on the Meaning of τάλαντον in Iliad 23

129

λύων οὖν ὁ Ἀριστοτέλης τὸ τάλαντον οὔτε ἴσον φησὶ τότε καὶ νῦν εἶναι, οὔτε ἀφωρισμένῳ χρῆσθαι σταθμῷ, ἀλλὰ μέτρον τι μόνον εἶναι· ὡς καὶ φιάλη σχῆμά τι ἀφωρισμένον ἔχον σταθμόν, μέτρον δέ οὐκέτι. πόσον δὲ οὐκ[έτι] ἀφωρισμένον.

Aristotle seems to be making two different points (which are compressed or conflated to the point of confusion or inaccuracy):20 (1) that the value of the talent is not the same ‘now’ as it was then (i.e. in Homer’s time); and, (2) that a talent does not in Homer’s epics have a fixed weight or worth: a talent of gold is like a bowl of soup: just as a bowl gives one some idea of the amount of soup (more than a spoonful or cup, and less than a pot or cauldron), without being a fixed or precise measure, so too, a talent of gold gives one some idea of its size (e.g. larger than an earring, smaller than a statue?) without being a fixed weight.21 The first of these, however, is not a solution to the problem as stated: It could explain why two talents was worth less than a horse in Homer’s time and more now, but not why the talent seems to have different values in two different parts of the Iliad. The second solution arguably does solve that problem. Moreover, for what it is worth (which may not be a lot, as it may not come from Aristotle), note that the rest of the scholium is concerned with explaining or defending the idea that the talent “is some measure, but how much is not defined.” So based solely on this F scholium, I would speculate that Aristotle aimed to solve the following problem: Why does Achilles give the greatest prize to the fourth-place athlete? (And we know it is great from the value supposedly placed on a talent in Iliad 9.) His solution

20 I come to basically the same conclusion about T (fol. 255r) and B (fol. 308v) (more on these shortly). Cf. Huxley (1979, 79) and Breitenberger (2006, 409), who view these as two parts of Aristotle’s solution. 21 This is the most sense I can make of the idea of having not a fixed weight or volume, but only some measure (ἀλλὰ μέτρον τι μόνον). MacPhail translates this “but it is only some kind of measure,” Hintenlang “sondern nur ein allgemeines Maẞ,” and Breitenberger (more loosely) “Es sei lediglich eine willkürlich festgelegte Maẞeinheit.” Bobokhyan (2009) reports on the many various balance weights (of marble, basalt, and other materials) found at Troy (especially Troy II–V). Perhaps some of these (of roughly the same size or weight) were used to measure out a talent of gold, others a half-talent, others two talents, etc. This would make sense of the idea that the talent was some measure, but not a defined weight (as there does not seem to be any standardization among them). On the half-talent (the only other such measure mentioned in Homer), note the prizes in the fourth event of the funeral games (the foot race): first, a well-made silver goblet, containing six measures, with a special history (Il. 23.741–9); second, a large ox, rich in fat (750); last, a half-talent of gold (ἡμιτάλαντον δὲ χρυσοῦ, 751).

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 8/12/2018, SPi

130

Aristotle’s Lost Homeric Problems

is that two talents of gold is not (or need not be) the greatest prize, for in Homer’s time (unlike his own), a talent did not refer to a fixed weight. The contrast between past and present, if there was one in Aristotle’s original solution, concerned not the precise value of a talent, but the fact that in Homer’s time it had no precise value or weight, as it was not a fixed measure. Therefore, I think there must be something wrong with τὸ τάλαντον οὔτε ἴσον . . . τότε καὶ νῦν εἶναι, though there is no safe way (as far as I can tell) to emend the text. If I had to guess, however, I would say that perhaps the original had ταὐτόν (the talent then and now are not the same), but that somewhere in the long process of transmission and paraphrase it became ἴσον. A brief word on the relatively lengthy remainder of the scholium: Taking it in situ, it reads as an odd attempt to demonstrate or support the idea that τάλαντον in Homer is indeterminate, by pointing out that the opposite of τάλαντον is ἀτάλαντος, which means ‘equal.’22 The discussion, however, depends on contrasting the measure of a talent, and what exceeds the measure of a talent (as well as some dubious mental juggling), and I do not think this fits well with the idea, presented in Aristotle’s solution, of the talent having some non-specific measure. I would speculate that this material is rather Porphyry’s elaboration on or alternative to Aristotle’s solution.23

7.2. THE SCHOLIA IN T (FOL. 255R) AND B (FOL. 308V) I begin with the T scholium, as it is slightly more expansive than the B scholium and I think more likely to have priority. Here is my edited transcription and translation:24 “δύο χρυσοῖο τάλαντα”: πῶς τῷ τετάρτῳ μεῖζον πάντων τίθησιν; φησὶν οὖν Ἀριστοτέλης οὐκ εἶναι τὸ τάλαντον ὡρισμένον τότε τοῖς παλαιοῖς· 22

See above, note 16. In support of this, consider a relevant line from the extant first book of Porphyry’s Homeric Questions on the Iliad §118: ἀτάλαντος οὖν ὁ ἶσος καὶ μὴ ταλαντεύων· “ἀτάλαντος Ἄρηι”, ὃ ἐξηγούμενός φησιν “ἶσος Ἐνυαλίῳ κορυθάικι.” “So atalantos is equal and not swaying to and fro: ‘atalantos to Ares’ (Il. 2.627) expounding which he says [elsewhere] ‘equal to helmet-shaking Warrior [i.e. Ares]’ (Il. 22.132).” 24 The T scholia are in Burney MS 86, in the British Library. (A digital copy is available here: http://www.bl.uk/manuscripts/Viewer.aspx?ref=burney_ms_86_fs001r.) 23

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 8/12/2018, SPi

Aristotle on the Meaning of τάλαντον in Iliad 23

131

νῦν μὲν γὰρ ὡς ἧττον ἵππου, ἐν δὲ ταῖς Λιταῖς ὡς μέγιστον. ἔστιν οὖν ἀντὶ μέτρου· καὶ Ἀλκίνους φησί· “φᾶρος ἐϋπλυνὲς ἠδὲ χιτῶνα | καὶ χρυσοῖο τάλαντον ἐνείκατε”, αὐτὸς δὲ ὡς μεῖζον δώσων· “τόδ’ ἄλεισον ἐμὸν περικαλλὲς ὀπάσσω | ⟨χρύσεον⟩”.25 νῦν δὲ ρ̅κ̅ δραχμὰς ἔχει τὸ τάλαντον, τὸ δὲ παλαιὸν ὁ μὲν Πολέμαρχος δˊ δραχμῶν, Θεόφραστος δὲ ιδˊ, Τίμαιος δὲ κδˊ :–26 “two talents of gold”: How does [Achilles] set out the greatest [prize] of all for the fourth-place person? Thus Aristotle claims that the talent was not defined among the ancients then; for here [i.e. in Iliad 23]27 it is less than a horse, but in the Entreaties [i.e. Iliad 9] it is more. Thus it is the opposite of a measure. Indeed Alcinous says: “bring a well-washed cloak and a tunic, and a talent of gold” [Od. 8.392–3], and he intended this as giving something very great:28 “I will send [him] this beautiful cup of mine” [Od. 8.430].29 But now the talent contains one hundred and twenty drachmas, but Polemarchus says that in ancient times it was

25 I have inserted χρύσεον, as clearly this entire line is intended: καί οἱ ἐγὼ τόδ᾽ ἄλεισον ἐμὸν περικαλλὲς ὀπάσσω, | χρύσεον (Od. 8.430–1). 26 This text is basically the same as Erbse’s schol. Il. 23.269a1. He marks everything but the last line as ‘T’ (i.e. a T scholium), and the remainder as ‘AT’ (see note 37 below). This is also the equivalent of fr. 388.1 in Gigon (1987, 535), which, however, omits the lemma and (lamentably) provides no manuscript information (writing simply Zu Il. 23,269). 27 I think this νῦν (like the one in the next text) means not ‘now’ but ‘in the present case’ or ‘here.’ 28 I think μεῖζον here means very impressive or valuable, not very large (which would make no sense in this context). 29 This example may be a remnant of the source of, or otherwise related to, the following passage in Eustathius (Il. 23.269 (4.729.4–9)):

Τὰ δὲ “δύο τάλαντα” τοῦ χρυσοῦ σμικρόν τι ποσὸν ὑποβάλλουσι νοεῖν τὸ τάλαντον, εἴγε οὐ μόνον ἵππου τοῦ τῷ δευτέρῳ τεθέντος ὑποδεές ἐστιν, ἀλλὰ καὶ τοῦ τετραμέτρου λέβητος, ὃς τῷ τρίτῳ κεῖται. οὕτω καὶ ἐν Ὀδυσσείᾳ οὐ μέγα τι τὸ τάλαντον, ἔνθα ἱμάτια καὶ χιτῶνας καὶ δεκατρία τάλαντα χρυσοῦ ἐν κιβωτίῳ κείμενα θεραπαινὶς μία μόνη ἐπὶ τὴν νῆα ἄγει. Now regarding the “two talents,” they assume “talent” to mean some small quantity of gold, if at least it is being presented as lower than not only a horse for second place, but even a cauldron of four measures, which is for third place. Thus even in the Odyssey the talent is not something great, where a single female slave alone brings to the ship cloaks and tunics and thirteen talents of gold stored in a chest. In Odyssey 8, Alcinous asks the twelve leaders of the Phaiacians to join him in offering gifts of friendship to Odysseus, each donating a cloak, a tunic, and a talent of gold (389–95). Later his wife Arete puts the thirteen cloaks, tunics, and talents of gold in a chest (8.438–40); and later still (in book 13), Arete has a female servant carry the chest down to the ship (66–8).

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 8/12/2018, SPi

132

Aristotle’s Lost Homeric Problems

four drachmas, Theophrastus [fr. 652 FHS&G] fourteen, and Timaeus [FGrHist 566, 143 a] twenty-four. :–

This is presented as one complete entry, beginning with a lemma (part of Il. 23.269), and concluding with a standard symbol marking the end of a scholium. The next text is one of the early scholia in B. There is no lemma; rather, as is standard in this manuscript, a line number is indicated— specifically ζˊ (no. 7), which on fol. 308v refers to 23.259: νηῶν δ᾽ ἔκφερ᾽ ἄεθλα λέβητάς τε τρίποδάς τε (“and from his ships he brought out prizes, cauldrons and tripods and . . . ”). This is the first mention of the prizes, for all of the competitions, not specifically for the chariot race (though in the end this does not matter). The text also includes a (slightly different) symbol marking the end of a scholium. Here is my transcription and translation of the relevant passage on fol. 308v:30 πῶς τῷ τετάρτῳ πάντων μεῖζον δίδωσι; φησὶν οὖν ὁ Ἀριστοτέλης μὴ εἶναι τὸ τάλαντον ὡρισμένον ποσόν, ἀλλὰ καὶ ἐπὶ ἥσσονος καὶ μείζονος λαμβάνεσθαι· νῦν μὲν γὰρ ὡς ἧττον ἵππου λαμβάνεται, ἐν δὲ ταῖς Λιταῖς ὡς μεῖζον.31 εἶχε δὲ ποτὲ μὲν ἑκατὸν δραχμάς, ποτὲ δὲ πεντήκοντα· ποτὲ δὲ λ~· ποτὲ εἰκοσιτέσσαρας, ποτὲ Δ~, ὥς φησι Τίμαιος, καὶ τὸ τελευταῖον μίαν :~32 How does [Achilles] give the greatest [prize] of all to the fourth-place person? Thus Aristotle claims that the talent is not a defined quantity, but in fact is taken for [some quantity] less or more; for here [i.e. in Iliad 23] it is taken to be less than a horse, but in the Entreaties it is more. But at one time it contained one hundred drachmas, at another fifty, then thirty, then twenty-four, then four, as Timaeus says, and finally one. :~

Whatever the differences between these two texts, they both seem to contain (like our F scholium) a combination or conflation of two different issues or explanations: (1) In Homer (or in Homer’s time), a talent did not specify a particular weight or measure. As evidence, both texts present 30

The online version provided by the Homer Multitext project was derived from an original © 2007, Biblioteca Nazionale Marciana, Venezie, Italia. The derivative image is © 2010, Center for Hellenic Studies (http://www.homermultitext.org/hmtdigital/facs?urn=urn:cite:hmt:msB.308v). 31 This text, up to ὡς μεῖζον, is Heitz (1869, 141) fr. 189b.1 (149b sic) and Rose (1886, 131) fr. 164.3. They both print a lemma (namely all of Il. 23.269) that is not part of or indicated by the scholium. 32 This text is the same as Erbse’s schol. Il. 23.269b, except that he prints τίθησι in place of δίδωσι. This is also the equivalent of fr. 388.2 in Gigon (1987, 535).

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 8/12/2018, SPi

Aristotle on the Meaning of τάλαντον in Iliad 23

133

the difference in the value of a talent in Iliad 23, where it is worth less than a horse, and in Iliad 9, where it is supposedly worth more than a horse. In the T scholium, we are presented with a further piece of evidence (from Odyssey 8): what Alcinous refers to as a talent of gold turns out to be a golden cup. So perhaps the idea is that a talent could refer to any (not too small or too large) golden object, and so its value would differ depending on the object. So in Iliad 23, the two gold talents or objects were such as to be worth less than a horse, in Iliad 9 more (it is claimed). Problem solved. (2) The value of the talent—and/or its equivalent in drachmas— changes over time. I focus here on the T scholium.33 Our text contrasts the values of talents in drachmas at present (120) and in ancient times (four, fourteen, or twenty-four, depending on the source). I assume this is not an issue of inflation (which would undercut the solution). Rather, the meaning of τάλαντον has changed: it refers to more wealth now than it did in Homer’s time, and this solves the Homeric problem: what the talent was worth then is not what it is worth now, so we should not be surprised if in ancient times two talents was worth less than a slave woman and a tripod, or a pregnant mare, or a large cauldron. Solutions (1) and (2) do not fit together well, at least not as found in the surviving evidence. We should try to determine (without yet relying on the F scholium) if (2) was originally part of (1), or a second solution offered by Aristotle (his offering more than one solution is not unprecedented),34 or an alternative solution whose source has now been lost. Although certainty is hard to establish in these matters, I think an A scholium suggests that solution (2) might well come from elsewhere (and not be Aristotle’s). Here is my edited transcription, with translation, of the relevant material on fol. 298r:35

33 There is a clear connection of some kind between these two texts, but something has become muddled in the B scholium. For it seems to describe a steady decline in the value of a talent in terms of drachmas: 100, 50, 30, 24, 4, 1. But I do not see how this constitutes or contributes to a solution to our Homeric problem, whereas the T scholium arguably does. 34 For instance, see chapter 10, section 3.2 (pp. 191–2). 35 The online version provided by the Homer Multitext project was derived from an original ©2007, Biblioteca Nazionale Marciana, Venezie, Italia. The derivative

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 8/12/2018, SPi

134

Aristotle’s Lost Homeric Problems

“τῷ δὲ τετάρτῳ θῆκε”: ὅτι οὐκ ἴσον τῷ καθ’ ἡμᾶς ταλάντῳ καὶ ⟨τὸ⟩36 παρὰ τοῖς ἀρχαίοις ἦν· ὡς γὰρ ἧσσον τοῦ τρίποδος καὶ τοῦ ἵππου καὶ τοῦ λέβητος τίθεται· τὸ δὲ τάλαντον νῦν μὲν ρ̅κ̅ δραχμὰς ἔχει· τὸ δὲ παλαιὸν ὁ μὲν Πολέμαρχος τεσσάρων δραχμῶν, Θεόφραστος δὲ δεκατεσσάρων, Τίμαιος δὲ εἴκοσι τεσσάρων :~ 37 “and in fourth place he set out”: Because it was for the ancients was in fact not equal to what the talent is for us; for [Achilles] assumes [two talents of gold] is less than the tripod and the horse and the cauldron. But now the talent contains one hundred and twenty drachmas, whereas Polemarchus [says] that in ancient times [it was] four drachmas, Theophrastus fourteen, and Timaeus twenty-four. :~

This scholium is presented as a unit, beginning with a lemma and ending with a standard symbol. Both Friedländer (1853, 330 [inserting, as usual, ἡ διπλῆ]) and Erbse (schol. Il. 23.269b) attribute the first half of the text (up to τίθεται) to Aristonicus. That may be. But the second half of this text—which is virtually identical to the second part of our T scholium—is a much better fit here (in fact it fits perfectly) than it is in these other texts. So if I were editing these texts for presentation in a collection of Aristotle’s fragments, I would include all of the relevant material in T (fol. 255r) and B (fol. 308v), in their entirety, but would indicate that in my view the lines beginning νῦν δὲ ρ̅κ̅ δραχμὰς and εἶχε δὲ ποτὲ μὲν ἑκατὸν δραχμάς, respectively did not come from Aristotle.

7.3. THE SCHOLIUM IN B* (FOL. 74V) This next text was first edited and published in Villoison (1788, 145). The first (Aristotle) half of it appears as Heitz fr. 167.2. It was included in Rose’s first two collections of fragments (1863, 155 (fr. 126.2) and image is ©2010, Center for Hellenic Studies (http://www.homermultitext.org/ hmt-digital/facs?urn=urn:cite:hmt:msA.298r). 36 Re καὶ ⟨τὸ⟩: where Friedländer (1853, 330), followed by Erbse, replaced this καί with τό, I have chosen to add the τό. 37 Erbse divides this text in two: The first half (up to τίθεται) is schol. Il. 23.269a2 (Ariston.); the second half is incorporated into schol. Il. 23.269a1 (hence ‘AT’—see above, note 26). Van Thiel (2014b, 447), in his collection of the source texts for Aristarchus, similarly presents first the A scholion (fol. 298r) up to τίθεται, followed by the T scholion (fol. 255r) in its entirety. I think such division of scholia leads to confusion (for an example of which, see Hintenlang 1961, 30).

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 8/12/2018, SPi

Aristotle on the Meaning of τάλαντον in Iliad 23

135

1870, 1501 (138.2)), but not in his third, where it is merely mentioned in connection with fr. 164.2 (1886, 131).38 This explains its relative neglect.39 Villoison included the entire scholium, Heitz and Rose the Aristotle portion only. I fall somewhere in between, presenting here the Aristotle material, as well as the line that follows (in order to make clear the contrast), though I omit the rest as unnecessary for present purposes. The text begins on the top of the folio, with a symbol (roughly ☉) which also appears next to verse Il. 5.576: Ἔνθα Πυλαιμένεα ἑλέτην ἀτάλαντον Ἄρηϊ (“Then the two [sc. Menelaus and Antilochus] killed Pylaemenes, atalantos to Ares”). So ἀτάλαντον is the word supposedly being explained or discussed. Here is my edited transcription, with translation:40 τὸ τάλαντον ὁ μὲν Ἀριστοτέλης ἀλλως ἐξηγεῖτο· καὶ εὑρήσεις τοῦτο ἔμπροσθεν, ἐν τῷ Νῦ, εἰς τὸν οὕτως ἔχοντα στίχον· “Ὣς φάτο,41 Μηριόνης δὲ θοῷ ἀτάλαντος Ἄρηϊ”. ὁ δὲ Διόδωρος, ὥς φησι ἐν τῷ Περὶ σταθμῶν· ⟨τάλαντον⟩ ἐστι μνῶν ξʹ,42 ἡ δὲ μνᾶ[ς] δραχμῶν ρʹ, ἡ δὲ δραχμὴ ὀβολῶν ςʹ, ὁ δὲ ὀβολὸς χαλκῶν ςʹ, ⟨ὁ δὲ χαλκοῦς⟩43 λεπτῶν ζʹ. Aristotle interprets the talent differently; and you will discover this ahead, in Book 13, in such a line: “So [Idomeneus] spoke, and Meriones, atalantos to swift Ares . . . ” [Il. 13.295 and 328]. Whereas Diodorus, as he says in On Weights: is 60 minai, and the mina 100 drachmas, and the drachma 6 obols, and the obol 6 coppers, 7 lepta.

38

See above, note 19. It was ignored by Gigon as well. Erbse refers to it in his apparatus of parallel passages, in connection with his schol. Il. 23.269a (1977, 410). 40 For details about the copy of ms. B on which I rely, see above, note 30. (Here is the link to fol. 74v: http://www.homermultitext.org/hmt-digital/facs?urn=urn:cite: hmt:msB.74v.) 41 Villoison omits ἐν τῷ Νῦ and Ὣς φάτο. Heitz omits the former, but afterwards notes: “ἔμπροσθεν (ἐν τῷν addit. cod. L)”—i.e. ms. Li. Similarly, Rose omits neither, but presents the former in parentheses, somewhat improved: “(ἐν τῷ ν̅ add. L).” But ms. B clearly has both ἐν τῷ Νῦ and Ὣς φάτο (see the previous note for the link to the folio). 42 The manuscript has ˙ἰ˙` μνῶν ξ. (˙ἰ˙` is my best attempt at reproducing what is almost certainly an abbreviation of ἐστι; see Lehmann (1880, Plate 10 §57 no. 17).) Villoison prints τάλαντον ἐστι μνῶν ξʹ (I follow him, but have added pointed brackets around τάλαντον, as it is not in the manuscript); the parallel passage in Suda τ 34 (more on this shortly) has μνῶν ἐστιν ξʹ. 43 ὁ δὲ χαλκοῦς may have been left to implication, but I think it more likely dropped out at some point. 39

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 8/12/2018, SPi

136

Aristotle’s Lost Homeric Problems

This passage is related to the two other sets of texts presenting Aristotle’s views on the talent in the Iliad, but it is impossible to say how precisely (or from which set, if either, it might have been derived, or how it is otherwise related). What is interesting is that we find here the same contrast we have seen before, except this time the contrast is explicit rather than conflated, and only one of the two contrasted views is attributed to Aristotle (as I have argued it should be in the other texts). So this text is claiming that some (e.g. Diodorus) interpret the talent as having a specific weight, whereas Aristotle’s interpretation is different. How Aristotle’s interpretation is different is unclear, and the quote that follows does not help. If that quote is original with Aristotle, however, then that would tend to support the view that his explanation of τάλαντον did include a discussion of ἀτάλαντος. Second, Suda τ 34 (τάλαντον) begins with this Diodorus passage (nearly verbatim), but does not include the omitted material that follows, nor the Aristotle material that precedes it. In other words, this scholium in B* (fol. 74v) has likely been cobbled together from different sources, and the Iliad 13 reference may have nothing to do with Aristotle’s account of τάλαντον. Moreover, we should expect Ἀριστοτέλης ἀλλως κτλ. to come after, not before, the interpretation with which it is compared. Finally, not only does this scholium appear cobbled together, it seems to have been included here as a ready-made explanation of ἀτάλαντος—though it does not succeed in that role.

7.4. CONCLUSIONS So what does the surviving evidence tells us about Aristotle’s views in this case? First, I think it highly probable that he originally raised or was responding to the problem presented in the F scholium: Why does Achilles give the greatest prize to the fourth place?44 His solution, in

44 As for what might explain the alternative form of the question (πῶς τῷ τετάρτῳ μεῖζον πάντων τίθησιν/δίδωσι;), I would speculate it is a paraphrase of the original διὰ τί problêma. I suspect a similar paraphrase is involved in schol. Ge Il. 21.390, which begins: Ἀριστοτέλης ἐν Ἀπορήμασι ⟨Ὁμηρικὰ⟩ ζητεῖ πῶς κτλ. (See chapter 9, section 2 (pp. 158–9).)

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 8/12/2018, SPi

Aristotle on the Meaning of τάλαντον in Iliad 23

137

brief, is that the talent in Homer is not a definite measure; it can vary, sometimes worth more, sometimes (as in Iliad 23) worth less. I suspect that this line from the T scholium conveys well what Aristotle had in mind: φησὶν οὖν Ἀριστοτέλης οὐκ εἶναι τὸ τάλαντον ὡρισμένον τότε τοῖς παλαιοῖς (“Aristotle claims that the talent was not defined among the ancients then”). Further, I think it likely that he contrasted this Homeric talent with the talent as a fixed measure in his own day. He may also have discussed the meaning of ἀτάλαντος in this connection, though I am less convinced of that. Aristotle very likely provided Homeric examples to support his solution. As an example of a talent being on the less valuable side (as in Iliad 23), Alcinous’ golden cup from Odyssey 8 (presented in the T scholium) may well go back to Aristotle. As we have seen, Aristotle’s example of a talent being on the more valuable side seems to have been the ten talents that make up part of the reparations offered to Achilles by Agamemnon in Iliad 9. I want to explore this further, as I find the example puzzling. According to the F scholium, that Agamemnon “proposes ten talents of gold in addition to the large gift” shows that the talent is worth more than is suggested by the fourth-place prize in the funeral games in Iliad 23. More specifically, according to the T scholium, the fourth-place prize indicates that the talent is worth less than a horse, whereas in Iliad 9 it is worth more. But why in the world would anyone conclude this about the value of a talent in in Iliad 9? The Iliad 23 side of the equation is straightforward. The secondplace prize is a mare pregnant with a mule foal, and the fourth-place prize is two talents of gold. The second-place prize can be considered at least one horse and at most (and generously) as two (perhaps we should say one and a half ). In any case, whether it is one or two or something in between, if even two horses are worth more than two talents of gold, then it follows that one horse is more valuable than one talent of gold. When we turn to Iliad 9, however, things get mysterious. The problem is that there is no explicit comparison of horses and talents of gold (as there is in Iliad 23), nor any other description of the value of a talent, and so it seems there is no reason to think (especially in light of Iliad 23) that a talent of gold is worth more than a horse. Before proceeding, it is worth looking in more detail at Agamemnon’s offer of compensation to Achilles—first described by him to his comrades (119–57), and then repeated by Odysseus when he relays

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 8/12/2018, SPi

138

Aristotle’s Lost Homeric Problems

the offer to Achilles (262–99). It is presented in four parts, in the following order: 1. Valuable objects (listed in this order): seven tripods, ten talents of gold, twenty cauldrons, twelve horses (122–4/264–9)45 2. Seven slave women from Lesbos, and the return of Briseus untouched (128–34/270–6) 3. The pick of Trojan spoils, if the Greeks win the war and Achilles survives (135–40/277–82) 4. Valuable land in Mycenae (including seven citadels) and the pick of his three daughters in marriage, if they both return to Greece after the war (141–56/282–98). Hintenlang (1961, 31) considers whether we might make sense of the claim about the value of the talent in Iliad 9 by raising the hypotheses that the offerings are presented in descending order of value (like the five prizes in the chariot race) or ascending order. The former he dismisses as clearly wrong (I assume because e.g. seven tripods cannot possibly be more valuable than seven citadels and marriage to one of Agamemnon’s daughters).46 The latter is more promising, he believes, as Agamemnon ends the offer with what is most valuable. But Hintenlang concludes that this too is not an accurate description of the order of presentation. (Moreover, as presented, it does not solve the problem, as the ten talents precede the twelve horses.) He considers no other possibilities, and declares Aristotle’s solution untenable. But what if Aristotle and/or other ancient Homeric scholars assumed that the items in the first part of the offer alone (the valuable objects) were presented in descending order of value? In that case, ten talents of gold would be more valuable than a dozen excellent race horses, which implies that one talent is worth more than one horse. It is not clear that anyone would have assumed this (and indeed, I find that the place of both the tripods and the cauldrons in the list arguably counts against it), but 45 The ten talents of gold and twelve solid, prize-winning horses (δέκα χρυσοῖο τάλαντα and δώδεκα ἵππους | πηγοὺς ἀθλοφόρους) are mentioned at 122–3/264–6. 46 Huxley (1979, 79) seems to take it for granted that these are presented in descending order: “In the embassy to Achilles in Book 9 (122–30 = 264–72) Agamemnon’s offer of gifts includes ten talents of gold; they are mentioned before twelve racing horses and seven skilled craftswomen from Lesbos.” See also Breitenberger (2006, 409). I find this assumption improbable.

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 8/12/2018, SPi

Aristotle on the Meaning of τάλαντον in Iliad 23

139

it at least explains the claim about the talent in Iliad 9. The only other possibility I can think of is simply to assume that as the ten talents are part of Agamemnon’s kingly offer, they must be worth considerably more than five times the two talents offered for fourth prize in the chariot race. I am not confident that this is what Aristotle (or whoever originated this particular claim) had in mind. Finally, I want to consider the Homeric problem and solution that are the focus of this chapter in connection with Aristotle’s Poetics 25 (discussed in chapter 1, section 2). Recall that at one point he writes that “Since the poet is representational . . . he is necessarily always representing some one of three things in number: either the sorts of thing that were (οἷα ἦν) or are, or the sorts of thing [people] say or think [were or are], or the sorts of thing that ought to be” (1460b8–11). Of the five kinds of criticism that Aristotle lists at the end of the chapter, the relevant one here is I assume that Homer is being contradictory (ὑπεναντία); and its solution, like that of the others, Aristotle says, must be sought from among the dozen types of solutions to Homeric problems he had described earlier in the chapter (1461b22–5). In the present case, I believe two kinds of solution are relevant. (1) The way things were (Poet. 25.1461a1–4): To the charge that the things portrayed by Homer are not better than they should be or than they are or than people say they are, one may reply that “they were that way” (οὕτως εἶχεν, cf. οἷα ἦν).47 So, to the charge that it was a mistake of Homer to present Achilles offering two talents for the fourth prize (given the value of the first three), one could reply that it used to be the case that the value of the talent was not fixed, and that it could be as low as it is in Iliad 23. Hintenlang (1961, 29–33) interprets these texts exclusively in this way (and as far as I can tell, the same is true of every other scholar who has commented on these fragments).48 He classifies them under Historische Deutungen, referring to οἷα ἦν, and writes: “In Fr. 164 R . . . gibt Aristoteles eine historische Deutung des Wortes τάλαντον” (29). This is in

47

This is solution no. 5, discussed in chapter 1, section 2 (p. 15). See e.g. Huxley (1979, 77–8), Richardson (1993, 204), and Breitenberger (2006, 409–10). 48

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 8/12/2018, SPi

140

Aristotle’s Lost Homeric Problems

fact an important part of his interpretation of Aristotle’s Homeric Problems generally: after admitting that one cannot make sense of the claims about the relative values of talents and horses in Iliad 9, he writes (31): “Eine solche Überprüfung der Stichhaltigkeit der aristotelischen Argumentation is jedoch im Zusammenhang unseres Themas nur von sekundärer Bedeutung. Entscheidend ist der grundsätzliche Versuch, Homer aus seiner Zeit zu begreifen.” (2) An apparent contradiction (Poet. 1461a31–5): If a word seems to imply a contradiction, Aristotle says that one should look at how many different meanings the word might have, and pick the best one (in context), as that could solve the problem.49 So, I believe it likely that he would say that one meaning of ‘talent’—the one from Homer’s time—is not a fixed measure (as the objection to Homer assumes), but an unspecified amount, as described above. This too solves the problem. As indicated, (1) is the interpretation favored by the few scholars who have commented on Aristotle’s solution to the τάλαντον problem. But I think that (2) does just as well, and that Aristotle likely had both in mind in answering this objection. Nothing he says in Poetics 25 would rule out that possibility.50

APPENDIX: OVERVIEW OF THE ΤΆΛΑΝΤΟΝ TEXTS IN COLLECTIONS OF THE FRAGMENTS OF ARISTOTLE Below is an overview of how the texts I have discussed are presented in the various collections of the fragments of Aristotle.51 The scholia (referred to by manuscript and folio—and with or without an asterisk, in the case of ms. B) are listed in the order in which I cover them in

49

This is solution no. 11ʹ, discussed in chapter 1, section 2 (pp. 20–1). Many thanks to Michiel Meeusen for feedback on an earlier version of this chapter. 51 Details concerning inter alia the amount of text included by an editor are omitted here, but were provided earlier in footnotes. 50

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 8/12/2018, SPi

Aristotle on the Meaning of τάλαντον in Iliad 23

141

the chapter. For what it is worth, were I editing a collection of these fragments, I would include (complete) the relevant scholia in F (fol. 197r), T (fol. 255r), B (fol. 308v), and B* (fol. 74v), and exclude but mention B* (fol. 23r) and B* (fol. 175r) as derivative. Further, I regard the F scholium and the T scholium as most important. (My reasons have been presented above.)

F (fol. 197r) B* (fol. 23r) B* (fol. 175r) T (fol. 255r) B (fol. 308v) B* (fol. 74v)

Heitz

Rose1

Rose2

Rose3

Gigon

189b.2 167.1 —— —— 189b.1 167.2

—— 126.1 —— —— 126.3 126.2

—— 138.1 —— —— 138.3 138.2

164.1 164.2 —— —— 164.3 ——

388.3 —— —— 388.1 388.2 ——

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 8/12/2018, SPi

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 7/12/2018, SPi

8 Aristotle and Aristarchus on the Meaning of κέρας in the Iliad 8.1. FIVE TEXTS ON ILIAD 11.385 In Iliad 11, Paris strikes Diomedes on the foot with an arrow, and Diomedes replies with this string of insults (385): τοξότα λωβητὴρ κέρᾳ ἀγλαὲ παρθενοπῖπα (“Archer, wretch, splendid in horn, girlogler”). With the exception of κέρᾳ, these are vocatives. Ancient Homeric scholars debated the meaning of κέρᾳ (‘in/with horn’) in this context.1 Hesychius (κ 2278) captures succinctly the three major interpretations: κέρας· θρίξ, τόξον, καὶ αἰδοῖον (“horn: hair, bow, and penis”). So, either κέρας refers to Paris’ bow (because it is made of horn, which makes this synecdoche), or it is a metaphor for his hair or his penis. Or in Aristotle’s language, κέρας is either a metaphor from genus (horn) to species (thing made of horn), or a metaphor by analogy for a braid or penis (based on analogous shapes).2 Three texts attribute three conflicting views to Aristotle on this issue: (1) ‘splendid in horn’: [i.e.] in hair; from which indeed comes ‘to cut.’3 But Aristotle [says it means] ‘O one exalting himself with [his] bow.’4 (Schol. T Il. 11.385f.)

1 See the scholia on Il. 11.385 (many of which I discuss below), as well as Lamberton (1992, xii–xiii n. 17) and van der Valk (1963, 212–13). 2 See Poet. 21.1457b6–9, discussed in chapter 5, section 2.3 (pp. 95–6). 3 This is folk etymology: see Beekes (2010, 665 and 676–7). 4 “κέρᾳ ἀγλαέ”: τῇ τριχί· ὅθεν καὶ κείρειν. Ἀριστοτέλης δὲ “ὦ τῷ τόξῳ σεμνυνόμενε”.

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 7/12/2018, SPi

144

Aristotle’s Lost Homeric Problems

Fig. 8.1. Genavensis gr. 44 (Bibliothèque de Genève, Ms. gr. 44) (p. 463, on Il. 11.385). http://www.e-codices.unifr.ch/en/bge/gr0044/463/0/Sequence-116. Reproduced with the kind permission of Bibliothèque de Genève, Département des manuscrits.

(2) ‘splendid in horn’: either ‘in hair’—from ‘to be cut’—or ‘exalting himself with [his] bow’; thus Aristotle.5 (Schol. Ge Il. 11.385 (see Figure 8.1)) (3) Aristotle claims: [Homer] used ‘splendid in horn’ rather than ‘exalting himself with [his] penis,’ thinking the word depended on such signification. And the scorpion-tongued Archilochus, saying ‘delicate horn’ for the penis, likely furnished the word from there.6 (Eust. Il. 11.385 (3.218.2–5)) Clearly, somewhere along the line Aristotle’s meaning or intention became garbled. According to the T scholium, Aristotle understood ‘horn’ to refer to Paris’ bow in this passage (and not to his hair, as an alternative interpretation has it). According to the Ge scholium, Aristotle understood ‘horn’ to refer either to Paris’ hair or to his bow.7 Eustathius, however, claims that he took it to be a metaphor for

5 τὸ δὲ “κέρᾳ ἀγλαέ”, ἢ τῇ τριχὶ, παρὰ τὸ κείρεσθαι, ἢ τῷ τόξῳ σεμνυνόμος· οὕτως ὁ Ἀριστοτέλης. It is unclear whether the manuscript reads σεμνυνόμος or -μόor -μέ- or something else (see Figure 8.1). Nicole (1891, 140) prints σεμνύμενε and in his apparatus writes: σεμνύμενε] σεμνύμενος. But I think it more likely that the scholiast intended σεμνυνόμενος; cf. the T scholiast’s σεμνυνόμενε and Eustathius’ σεμνυνόμενον in the other two Aristotle texts. (Nicole also prints a γὰρ after οὕτως, but I think this is a mistake.) 6 Ἀριστοτέλης δέ φησι· κέρᾳ ἀγλαὸν εἶπεν ἀντὶ τοῦ αἰδοίῳ σεμνυνόμενον, ἐπὶ τοιούτου σημαινομένου τὴν λέξιν ἐκεῖνος νοήσας. καὶ ἔοικεν ὁ σκορπιώδης τὴν γλῶσσαν Ἀρχίλοχος ἁπαλὸν κέρας τὸ αἰδοῖον εἰπὼν ἐντεῦθεν τὴν λέξιν πορίσασθαι. I here accept an emendation of Rose (1863, 166), changing φασί to φησι, which I think makes more sense. Rose is followed by Schrader (1880, 165). 7 Unless, as I had originally thought, οὕτως ὁ Ἀριστοτέλης is meant to indicate that Aristotle held the latter view, as in the T scholium. It is likely that these two scholia

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 7/12/2018, SPi

Aristotle and Aristarchus on the Meaning of κέρας

145

penis—the taunt I assume being that Paris’ prowess is in the bedroom and not on the field of battle. In his first edition of the fragments of Aristotle, Rose (1863, 166–7) claimed that in the Eustathius passage Ἀριστοτέλης was probably a mistake for Ἀριστοφάνης, and in the T scholium Ἀριστοτέλης is a mistake for Ἀρίσταρχος.8 Heitz (1869, 139) agreed with the latter ‘emendation’ but not with the former. Van der Valk (1963, 503) too thinks Eustathius is right about Aristotle here, as does Lamberton (1992, xii–xiii n. 17).9 I see no reason to change Ἀριστοτέλης in every case, but it does seem necessary to emend either the scholia or Eustathius (or otherwise explain the contradiction).10 Further, there is no reason to think Ἀριστοτέλης is a mistake for Ἀριστοφάνης (as we have no evidence of either Aristophanes’ opinion on this issue),11 so we must ask (or, we may profit by speculating about) which of the interpretations attributed to Aristotle is more likely to be in fact the reading of Aristarchus, and on this issue some evidence does survive. (The possibility of confusing Ἀριστοτέλης and Ἀρίσταρχος is quite real. Compare, for instance, the abbreviations of these two names in the scholia in Genavensis gr. 44: Figure 8.1 (Ἀριστοτέλης) and Figure 8.2 (Ἀρίσταρχος).) First, we must consider schol. A Il. 11.385d, which is generally taken to provide the view of Aristarchus. (More on that attribution shortly.) This scholium presents the hair interpretation (with an elaboration, which I omit), and then briefly gives a reason for rejecting the bow interpretation: κέρᾳ [means] not ‘in hair’ simply, but [refers to] some kind of braid; the ancients braided [hair] in the form of a horn . . . For some, however, [κέρᾳ ἀγλαέ means] ‘glorying in [your] bow’; but ‘archer, wretch’ was said already.12 have the same source, and that one is a muddled version of the other. I suspect the T scholium is more fundamental. 8 This predated the publication of the Geneva scholia. 9 Van der Valk conjectures that “for reasons of decency, T has altered the original text.” But one may legitimately wonder whether Aristotle would have approved of a metaphor with such a meaning. 10 One possibility is that the scholia are the product of a condensing of their source to the point of inaccuracy. I discuss just such an occurrence in Mayhew (2017b). 11 There’s no evidence that would support attributing this to Aristophanes of Byzantium; and as for the comic playwright, note Henderson (1991, 127): “κέρας, horn, appears in comedy only in double entendres at Pl. Com. 210 [and] Eub. 67. 4.” 12 κέρᾳ οὐ τῇ τριχὶ ψιλῶς, ἀλλ’ ἐμπλοκῆς τι γένος· εἰς κέρατος τρόπον ἀνεπλέκοντο οἱ ἀρχαῖοι . . . ἔνιοι δέ, τῷ τόξῳ ἀγαλλόμενε· προείρηκε δὲ τοξότα λωβητήρ.

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 7/12/2018, SPi

146

Aristotle’s Lost Homeric Problems

Fig. 8.2. Genavensis gr. 44 (Bibliothèque de Genève, Ms. gr. 44) (p. 718, on Il. 21. 323): Ἀρίσταρχος. http://www.e-codices.unifr.ch/en/bge/gr0044/718/ 0/Sequence-116. Reproduced with the kind permission of Bibliothèque de Genève, Département des manuscrits.

The long braid of a well-coiffed Paris might indeed resemble a splendid horn. And as Hainsworth (1993, 269) explains, “if κέρας were taken as a reference to the bow the gibe τοξότα would be otiose,” and therefore this scholium takes “κέρας to denote a style of hairdressing.”13 Note that in the edition of Erbse (1974), this text begins κέρᾳ ἀγλαέ: ὅτι, with Aristonicus indicated as its source.14 But the lemma is in fact τοξότα λωβητὴρ καίρα, and in place of ὅτι there is a sign (roughly the percent sign, perhaps a sigma [σ] with dots on either side of it).15 There are three errors in the manuscript: καίρα for κέρᾳ (twice) and τριχῆι for τριχὶ.16 Whatever the source of this scholium,17 and whatever precisely is meant by the sign rendered ὅτι by Erbse, the text cannot be saying that Aristarchus marked this verse (or κέρᾳ) as suspect. For it makes no sense to do so “because 13

Hainsworth takes this scholium to represent the views of Aristarchus; but as I go on to explain, this is unlikely. On the hair interpretation, see also schol. A Il. 11.385e1 and schol. T Il. 11.385e2. 14 Friedländer (1853, 195) prints ἡ διπλῆ ὅτι. Aristonicus’ work is on the signs Aristarchus used to flag verses in Homer. The διπλῆ is Aristarchus’ general sign to indicate anything noteworthy. 15 Friedländer and Erbse may well be right, and this sign is an abbreviation of ὅτι (see Lehmann (1880, Plate 10 §55 no. 4)). But I think it might also mean σημείωσαι, which in such a context would mean roughly nota bene. 16 One can view the scholium here: http://www.homermultitext.org/hmt-digital/ images?request= GetIIPMooViewer &urn=urn:cite:hmt:vaimg.VA145RN-0317. 17 Van Thiel (2014b, 255–6) attributes this text not to Aristarchus but to Ixion.

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 7/12/2018, SPi

Aristotle and Aristarchus on the Meaning of κέρας

147

κέρᾳ means not ‘in hair’ simply, but refers to some kind of braid”: for the braid makes the hair interpretation more plausible, not less so. In any case, there is strong evidence that Aristarchus rejected the hair interpretation—which brings me to our next text. According to Apollonius, Aristarchus rejects the hair interpretation and defends the bow interpretation: ‘splendid in horn.’ The Glossographoi18 [take this to mean] ‘glorying in [his] hair’; for κέρας is said [to mean] ‘hair’. But Aristarchus understands ‘horn of the ox’ [Il. 24.81] in the literal sense, like the pipe made of horn: for the ancients, with a view to the fish not biting off [the line], put this around the hook, and Homer never said κέρας is hair. For which reason, in the case of ‘splendid in horn’ [Aristarchus understands] ‘glorying in [your] bow’.19 (Ap. Soph. 98.11 Bekker = fr. 15 Dyck)

The βοὸς κέρας part of this passage has some connection to a couple of scholia that I discuss in the next section (where the importance of using horn to protect a fish hook will become apparent). I take Apollonius to be saying that whereas the lexicographers adopt the hair interpretation, Aristarchus20 rejected the hair interpretation and accepted the bow interpretation, on the grounds that Homer never uses κέρας to refer to hair. I have given reasons why I think that Aristarchus is less securely connected to schol. A Il. 11.385d than he is to this Apollonius passage (where he is named); so I would tentatively attribute the bow interpretation to him (this gets more support in the next section) and the penis interpretation to Aristotle (making the Eustathius text the accurate one). Unless of course Aristotle and Aristarchus held the same view—that in Il. 11.385 κέρας refers to Paris’ bow—in which case Aristotle may have exerted an influence on Aristarchus, and the name in the Eustathius passage is a corruption. But that is highly 18 I.e. “the anonymous predecessors against whom Aristarchus polemicized and whom he designated the Γλωσσογράφοι” (Dyck 1987, 119). For Dyck’s commentary on the present text (fr. 15 in his collection), see pp. 145–6. 19 “κέρ⟨ᾳ⟩ ἀγλαέ”: οἱ μὲν Γλωσσογράφοι ταῖς θριξὶν ἀγαλλόμενε· κέρα γὰρ τὴν τρίχα λέγεσθαι. ὁ δὲ Ἀρίσταρχος κυρίως ἀκούει τὸ τοῦ “βοὸς κέρας”, οἷον τὸ κεράτι⟨ν⟩ον συρίγγιον· τὸ γὰρ παλαιόν, πρὸς τὸ μὴ ἀποτρῶξαι τὸν ἰχθύν, τῷ ἀγκίστρῳ περιτίθεσθαι τοῦτο, τὸν δὲ Ὅμηρον μηδέποτε εἰρηκέναι κέρας τὴν τρίχα. ὅθεν ἐπὶ τοῦ κέρ⟨ᾳ⟩ ἀγλαέ, τόξῳ ἀγαλλόμενε. Text following Dyck (1987, 145). 20 Or perhaps someone relying on something Aristarchus said about Il. 24.81, though I think that is a less natural reading.

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 7/12/2018, SPi

148

Aristotle’s Lost Homeric Problems

unlikely, as the most likely corruption (Ἀριστοτέλης for Ἀρίσταρχος) is not possible, given that there is no evidence that Aristarchus accepted the penis interpretation.21 In any case, I think we can be fairly certain that Aristotle discussed the meaning of κέρᾳ (in Il. 11.385) in one of his lost poetical works, the most likely candidate being his Homeric Problems. As to what problem he was solving, one can only speculate. Here is one possibility. The Homeric problem was: Why did Homer write κέρᾳ ἀγλαέ, which refers to a bow, when he had already said τοξότα? Aristotle might have responded with solution no. 11ʹ (Poet. 25.1461a31–5, discussed in chapter 1, section 2): If a word (κέρᾳ) seems to imply a contradiction, one should look at how many different meanings the word might have (recall Hesychius κ 2278: κέρας· θρίξ, τόξον, καὶ αἰδοῖον), and pick the best one in context—in this case αἰδοῖον (penis).

8.2. PLUTARCH, WHETHER LAND OR SEA ANIMALS ARE CLEVERER 24 AND ILIAD 24.80–2 In Whether Land or Sea Animals Are Cleverer 24, discussing the intelligence of certain fish, Plutarch quotes Il. 24.80–2 (Mor. 976F): She [sc. Iris] rushed to the sea depths like a lead weight, which, mounted upon the horn of an ox of the field, goes [down] bringing doom to the ravenous fish.22

Plutarch then adds: “some, misconstruing [these verses], think that the ancients used ox hair for fishing line.”23 Plutarch rejects this view (976F–977Α), which he says is based on erroneously taking κέρας to refer to hair (some connecting κέρας and τὸ κείρασθαι, just as we saw in the previous section). I assume this is why Rose (1863, 166–7) suggested emending Ἀριστοτέλης in this passage to Ἀριστοφάνης. But this suggestion is unnecessarily complex and speculative. 21

22

ἡ δὲ μολυβδαίνῃ ἰκέλη ἐς βυσσὸν ὄρουσεν, ἥ τε κατ’ ἀγραύλοιο βοὸς κέρας ἐμβεβαυῖα ἔρχεται ὠμηστῇσιν ἐπ’ ἰχθύσι κῆρα φέρουσα. 23 παρακούοντες ἔνιοι βοείαις θριξὶν οἴονται πρὸς τὰς ὁρμιὰς χρῆσθαι τοὺς παλαιούς.

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 7/12/2018, SPi

Aristotle and Aristarchus on the Meaning of κέρας

149

Shortly thereafter, he presents Aristotle’s evaluation of this Homeric passage (977A): Aristotle claims that nothing said in these [verses] is clever or remarkable but that what is horn is put around the line in front of the hook, since [the fish], encountering anything else, chew [it] in two. And of the hooks they [sc. fishermen] use rounded ones in the case of mullets and bonitos, as they are small-mouthed; for they are wary of the straighter ones.24

I take it that in saying μηδὲν . . . σοφὸν ἢ περιττόν, Aristotle is claiming that nothing in these verses need be understood metaphorically25 (perhaps in contrast to κέρᾳ ἀγλαέ in Il. 11.385): βοὸς κέρας is exactly what it means, ox horn not ox hair.26 Plutarch’s reference to Aristotle here is not a quote or paraphrase or even an allusion to anything in Aristotle’s extant works, so I think it ought to be considered a source text for some lost work of his. Further, given Aristotle’s interest in the animals in Homeric epic, and the fact that Plutarch presents this passage as Aristotle’s evaluation of Il. 24.80–2, I again think the lost work that is its most likely source is the Homeric Problems. Noteworthy in this context is Aristotle’s HA 8(9).37, which is devoted to the ingenuity observed in marine animals. The following passage (621a6–16) is particularly relevant: The so-called scolopendra, after swallowing the hook, turns inside out until it expels the hook; having done so it then turns its inside back in again . . . Among fishes those named foxes, after perceiving that they have swallowed the hook, take counter-measures just as the scolopendra does: they run back a long way to the fishing line and bite a piece out of 24 Ἀριστοτέλης δέ φησι μηδὲν ἐν τούτοις λέγεσθαι σοφὸν ἢ περιττὸν ἀλλὰ τῷ ὄντι κεράτιον περιτίθεσθαι πρὸ τοῦ ἀγκίστρου περὶ τὴν ὁρμιάν, ἐπεὶ πρὸς ἄλλο ἐρχόμενοι διεσθίουσι. τῶν δ’ ἀγκίστρων τοῖς μὲν στρογγύλοις ἐπὶ κεστρέας καὶ ἀμίας χρῶνται μικροστόμους ὄντας· τὸ γὰρ εὐθύτερον εὐλαβοῦνται. Presumably, the straighter ones are long and narrow, and so more difficult for a small-mouthed fish to swallow. In the remainder of De soll. an. 24, Plutarch (or Aristotle) continues to provide examples of fish that elude or are suspicious of bait or lures, thus illustrating the intelligence of these creatures (977A–C). 25 This includes synecdoche, an instance of which (as we saw above) is the bow interpretation of κέρᾳ in Il. 11.385. 26 One might argue that βοὸς κέρας is, like κέρας in the previous section, a metaphor from genus (horn) to species (thing made of horn). Even so, horn as a genus-to-species metaphor for a piece of horn used to protect a fishing line is less exotic than horn as such a metaphor for a bow.

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 7/12/2018, SPi

150

Aristotle’s Lost Homeric Problems

it. But they are caught in certain areas on multiple hook lines in rapid deep water.27

I find it completely plausible that Aristotle, in his Homeric Problems, used some of the fishing endoxa he gathered in his study of animals— even material that did not ultimately appear in his biological works— to explain Il. 24.81, and that Plutarch De soll. an. 24 (Mor. 977A) more or less accurately presents Aristotle’s interpretation.28 In this case, however, I think there is too little information even to speculate about what problem Aristotle might have been trying to solve. Scholars have omitted De soll. an. 24 (Mor. 976F–977A) from collections of the fragments of Aristotle’s Homeric Problems, however, not because it is thought to belong to some other work of his, but because they consider the Ἀριστοτέλης in that passage to be a mistake for Ἀρίσταρχος.29 They do so based on the passage from Apollonius quoted in the previous section, and on a couple of scholia which I turn to now. Here is schol. A Il. 24.81a, which (if the source is Aristonicus) contains Aristarchus’ take on this verse: βοὸς κέρας does not mean ‘hair of ox,’ [which some maintain] owing to the line being made of hair. For they were using [lines] made of linen: “out of the sea with linen [line] and glittering bronze” [Il. 16.408]. And people nowadays use not oxen [hair] but horse. Therefore, he would say βοὸς κέρας in the literal sense: for they made pipe out of ox horn, which they put around the line above the hook, so that the fish would not chew off the linen [line].30

27 ἣν δὲ καλοῦσι σκολόπενδραν, ὅταν καταπίῃ τὸ ἄγκιστρον, ἐκτρέπεται τὰ ἐντὸς ἐκτός ἕως ἂν ἐκβάλλῃ τὸ ἄγκιστρον· εἶθ’ οὕτως εἰστρέπεται πάλιν ἐντός . . . τῶν δ’ ἰχθύων αἱ ὀνομαζόμεναι ἀλώπεκες, ὅταν αἴσθωνται ὅτι τὸ ἄγκιστρον καταπεπώκασι, βοηθοῦσι πρὸς τοῦτο ὥσπερ καὶ ἡ σκολόπενδρα· ἀναδραμοῦσαι γὰρ ἐπὶ πολὺ πρὸς τὴν ὁρμιὰν ἀποτρώγουσιν αὐτῆς· ἁλίσκονται δὲ περὶ ἐνίους τόπους πολυαγκίστροις ἐν ῥοώδεσι καὶ βαθέσι τόποις. Translation of Balme 1991. 28 See Sandbach (1982, 226–7). 29 See e.g. Rose (1863, 167–8). Bernardakis (1895, 58) prints Ἀριστοτέλης, and in his apparatus criticus comments: locum non inveni. Platt (1911, 255) responds: “no wonder; of course Ἀριστοτέλης is simply a mistake for Ἀρίσταρχος.” Helmbold (1957, 423) prints Ἀρίσταρχος. 30 οὐ λέγει βοὸς κέρας βοὸς τρίχα, διὰ τὸ τριχίνην εἶναι τὴν ὁρμιάν· λιναῖς γὰρ ἐχρῶντο· “ἐκ πόντοιο θύραζε λίνῳ ἐνὶ ἤνοπι χαλκῷ”. οἱ δὲ νῦν οὐδὲ βοείαις χρῶνται, ἀλλ’ ἱππείαις. λέγοι ἂν οὖν βοὸς κέρας κυρίως· κατεσκεύαζον γὰρ σύριγγα ἐκ κέρατος βοείου, ἣν περιετίθεσαν τῇ ὁρμιᾷ ὑπὲρ τὸ ἄγκιστρον, ὅπως μὴ οἱ ἰχθῦς ἀποτρώγωσι τὸν λίνον.

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 7/12/2018, SPi

Aristotle and Aristarchus on the Meaning of κέρας

151

We have the same issue in this case as with the A scholium discussed in the previous section. This one too, after the lemma, begins with a mark (similar to σ or the percent sign) which is rendered lemma plus ὅτι by Erbse.31 Now this scholium either is simply presenting the view that βοὸς κέρας does not in Il. 24.81 refer to ox hair, but should be taken literally to refer to the bit of horn put around the line near the hook to prevent it from being bitten; or, it contains Aristarchus’ reasons for doubting βοὸς κέρας here (in which case, however, I do not see how the last line—κατεσκεύαζον γὰρ κτλ.—makes sense). In either case, we can be pretty certain that this scholium does represent the view of Aristarchus—not only because of the Apollonius passage quoted in the previous section, but also because of schol. H Od. 12.253:32 ‘horn of ox’: Aristarchus [says the] horn is the little pipe made of horn, which they put on the line so as not to be eaten by the fish. But some [say κέρας means] hair.33

So, according to Plutarch, Aristotle held that βοὸς κέρας in Il. 24.8 ought to be understood literally as ‘horn of ox.’ And according to the Apollonius passage and the two scholia, Aristarchus held that βοὸς κέρας in Il. 24.8 and Od. 12.253 ought to be understood literally as ‘horn of ox’ and not as ‘hair of ox’; and it may be the case (though this seems contradictory) that he marked βοὸς κέρας in Il. 24.8 as doubtful. So the claim that Ἀριστοτέλης is a mistake for Ἀρίσταρχος in the Plutarch passage seems to have been based on two considerations: (1) that the view attributed to Aristotle in the Plutarch passage is the same as Aristarchus’, and (2) that the view attributed to Aristotle in the Plutarch passage is not found in any extant work of Aristotle. But these are not compelling reasons for changing Ἀριστοτέλης to Ἀρίσταρχος, in light of the fact that Aristotle wrote a work on Homer that is not extant, and of the possibility that either

31 One can view the scholium here: http://www.homermultitext.org/hmt-digital/ images?request=GetIIPMooViewer &urn=urn:cite:hmt:vaimg.VA312VN-0814. 32 In Od. 12.253, βοὸς κέρας appears in a similar fishing metaphor: ἐς πόντον προΐησι βοὸς κέρας ἀγραύλοιο (cf. Il. 24.81: ἥ τε κατ’ ἀγραύλοιο βοὸς κέρας ἐμβεβαυῖα). 33 βοὸς κέρας: κέρας Ἀρίσταρχος τὸ κεράτινον συρίγγιον, ὃ ἐπιτιθέασι πρὸς τὸ μὴ ἐσθίεσθαι ὑπὸ τοῦ ἰχθύος τὴν ὁρμιάν. ἔνιοι δὲ τὴν τρίχα.

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 7/12/2018, SPi

152

Aristotle’s Lost Homeric Problems

Aristotle exerted an influence on Aristarchus or their agreement about how to understand Il. 24.8 is a coincidence. * * * To sum up: In the case of κέρας in Il. 11.385, Aristotle either thought that this should be interpreted metaphorically to mean penis, or (less likely, I think) he thought that it should be interpreted to mean horn (referring to Paris’ bow); whereas Aristarchus definitely accepted the bow interpretation and explicitly rejected the hair interpretation. In the case of κέρας in Il. 24.8, both Aristotle and Aristarchus thought that this should be interpreted literally to mean horn—specifically a small pipe made of horn used to protect the fishing line. I have further argued that in the first case, taking Ἀριστοτέλης to be a mistake for Ἀρίσταρχος in the two scholia is one possible explanation for the contradictory textual evidence, but that there is no compelling reason to conclude that the same mistake was made in the Plutarch passage (as a number of scholars have claimed). A final word on the Aristotle texts discussed in this chapter: I consider the three discussed in §1 (schol. T Il. 11.385f, schol. Ge Il. 11.385, and Eust. Il. 11.385 (3.218.2–5)) and the Plutarch passage discussed in §2 to be neglected fragments of Aristotle’s lost Homeric Problems—in the sense that they were not included in either of the standard editions of Aristotle’s fragments (Rose and Gigon) or in Breitenberger’s more recent German translation with commentary of the fragments of this work. Or to state the matter positively, all of these texts ought to be included in any subsequent collection of the fragments of Aristotle in general or of the Homeric Problems in particular.

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 7/12/2018, SPi

9 Aristotle on the Theomachy in Iliad 21 9.1. ARISTOTLE ON ILIAD 21.284–6 IN PO X Y 221 In Iliad 21, Achilles drives the Trojans back against the Scamander River, killing many of them, thereby clogging the river with corpses. The Scamander (also known as the Xanthus) chastises Achilles, who responds by fighting the river, which fights back, such that Achilles feels doomed and expresses the wish that he had been killed by Hector rather than die such an ignoble death (211–83). So he spoke, and very swiftly Poseidon and Athena went and stood near him, [they] likened to men in form, and clasping [his] hand in hand, they encouraged him with words.1 (284–6)

They encourage him to keep on fighting and assure him that he is not doomed to die in the river (287–97). But aside from such encouragement, Poseidon and Athena do not help Achilles, though Hephaestus (urged on by Hera) does do battle with the Scamander. That these two gods offered encouragement, but did not actually help Achilles in combating the river—though they both supported the Greeks—gave rise to a problem in antiquity, as is clear from the following section of schol. bT Il. 21.284–6: To those who ask, how do the gods discourse with him, but not offer help, one must say that another [sc. god, i.e. Hephaestus] was the one opposed to the Scamander.2 1

Ὣς φάτο, τῷ δὲ μάλ’ ὦκα Ποσειδάων καὶ Ἀθήνη στήτην ἐγγὺς ἰόντε, δέμας δ’ ἄνδρεσσιν ἐΐκτην, χειρὶ δὲ χεῖρα λαβόντες ἐπιστώσαντ’ ἐπέεσσι. 2 πρὸς δὲ τοὺς ζητοῦντας, πῶς διαλέγονται μὲν αὐτῷ οἱ θεοί, οὐκ ἐπιβοηθοῦσι δέ, ῥητέον ὅτι ἕτερος ἦν ὁ ἀντιτεταγμένος τῷ Σκαμάνδρῳ.

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 7/12/2018, SPi

154

Aristotle’s Lost Homeric Problems

Fig. 9.1. POxy 221 col. xiv 27–32. Reproduced with the kind permission of the British Library. © The British Library Board.

There is papyrus evidence (POxy 221, col. xiv 27–32) that Aristotle addressed this problem and offered the same solution (see Figure 9.1). In fact, he may be the source of this bT scholium (see e.g. Montanari 1989, 288). The following transcription is that of Grenfell and Hunt (and they were followed by Erbse and Montanari):3 “χειρὶ δὲ χεῖρα [λ]αβόν[τες] ἐπιστώσαντ’ ἐπέεσσι”⟨:⟩ διὰ δε[ξιᾶς] πίστιν ἐποιήσαντο τῶν λό[γω]ν̣. Ἀριστοτέλης δὲ μὴ βοηθῆ[σαι] αὐτοὺς Ἀχιλλεῖ, ὅτι Ἥφαιστος [ἀντ]ετέτακτο τῶ⟨ι⟩ Ξάνθω⟨ι⟩. “and clasping [his] hand in hand, they encourage him with words”: Through a right-hand [pledge] of words they created trust. Aristotle [said] they did not help Achilles, because Hephaestus was opposed to Xanthus.

This text has received a fair amount of attention, for a fragment that does not appear in Rose or Gigon.4 There can be little doubt that its

3 The three transcriptions are identical (except that Grenfell and Hunt omit accents, breathing marks, and punctuation). I exclude in this transcription the material prior to χειρὶ δὲ χεῖρα in the first line (l. 27), as well as the final word (ἄτοπον) in the last line (l. 32). I believe ἄτοπον begins a new sentence (see the reasoning of Grenfell and Hunt (1899, 83)). Below I discuss POxy 221 col. xiv 32–4, which begins with ἄτοπον. 4 See e.g. Hintenlang (1961, 99–100) and van der Valk (1963, 2: 409–10).

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 7/12/2018, SPi

Aristotle on the Theomachy in Iliad 21

155

provenance is the Homeric Problems.5 Its publication post dated the appearance of Heitz and Rose, but there was no reason for Gigon or Breitenberger to exclude it. Hintenlang (1961, 97–100) did discuss this text, in connection with schol. ΣHQT Od. 9.525,6 claiming that it is an example of Aristotle using the distinction or demarcation of the scope of the gods to solve a problem, as Antisthenes had done in commenting on Od. 9.525. But this is not the same situation: Antisthenes argues that Poseidon will not be able to heal Polyphemus, since he is not the god of medicine, whereas Aristotle is arguing that Scamander already had an opponent (namely Hephaestus), who did not require the help of Poseidon and Athena to interfere, though they were willing to encourage Achilles. This is why the scholiast (or his source, which may have been Porphyry) contrasts Antisthenes’ solution with Aristotle’s. I think Grenfell and Hunt had it right (1899, 83): “The difficulty here was that Poseidon and Athena did not actively help Achilles, the explanation of Aristotle being that Hephaestus was the god opposed to Xanthus.” POxy 221 col. xiv 27–32 is further confirmation of Aristotle’s general approach to Homer: To defend him against criticism if possible, and not to rely on allegory in doing so. (More on allegory at the end of this chapter, and in the next.) There is, however, too little evidence to say anything more about this text. It is worth considering whether the text that immediately follows the word Χάνθῳ—beginning with the last word on l. 32 (namely ἄτοπον),7 and ending with the first word (or the last letter of it) on l. 34 (namely [ . . . ]ν)—is also part of Aristotle’s comment (or an additional comment from him) on Il. 21.284–6. That this comment is not on an entirely new topic is clear from the fact that the next lemma to appear (Il. 21.287) comes directly after [ . . . ]ν. It is difficult to determine the content of the comment, however, owing to the state of the text (see Figure 9.2). Indeed, whereas Grenfell and Hunt, Erbse, and Montanari offered identical transcriptions of POxy 221 col. xiv 27–32, they (and at least two other scholars) have transcribed and edited col. xiv 32–4 in rather (not to say radically) different ways.

5 Grenfell and Hunt are more reserved (1899, 83): “Probably a quotation from Aristotle’s lost book Ἀπορημάτων Ὁμηρικῶν.” 6 Fr. 174.1 Rose/397.1 Gigon, quoted in chapter 5, section 1.3 (p. 85). 7 See Grenfell and Hunt (1899, 83) on why ἄτοπον almost certainly goes with what follows it, not with what precedes it.

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 7/12/2018, SPi

156

Aristotle’s Lost Homeric Problems

Fig. 9.2. POxy 221 col. xiv 32–4. Reproduced with the kind permission of the British Library. © The British Library Board. ατοπον | [ . . . ] Αινεαν σευεσθ̣α̣ι̣ προσητ̣η̣· | [ . . . ]ν (Grenfell and Hunt) ατοπον [και τῳ] Αινεαν σευεσθαι προσημει[ωμενο]ν (Allen 1900, 17)8 ἄτοπον, | [εἰ ὡς] Αἰνέαν σεύεσθαι προσῄ τη|[σε]ν. (Ludwich 1902, 19) ἄτοπον | [δὲ κ]αὶ νεανιεύεσθ̣α̣ι̣ πρὸς ἤπ̣[ιο]ν̣ | [θεό]ν. (Erbse) ἄτοπον | [δὲ 1/2] αινεαν̣.ευεσ̣ . . . προση . .[.]. | [ . . . ]ν. (Montanari)

Although we cannot be absolutely certain that the text contains Αἰνέαν σεύεσθαι, it is nevertheless our best bet, especially given the relatively clear σ̣ευεσ: As Grenfell and Hunt recognized, this is likely an allusion to Il. 20.325, Αἰνείαν δ᾽ ἔσσευεν ἀπὸ χθονὸς ὑψόσ᾽ ἀείρας: “but [Poseidon] raised Aeneas aloft and whisked him away from that place” (i.e. from the battlefield, where he was about to fight Achilles). They comment that the point of this reference is not clear, but speculate: “Perhaps ‘the absurdity of Aeneas being carried off . . . ’ is Aristotle’s criticism of this passage” (1899, 83). I believe they are likely right in thinking that what is prior to Αἰνέαν and what follows προση is quite uncertain (though I doubt that Aristotle is here criticizing the Poseidon-Aeneas passage). Allen and Ludwich, however, are more confident than Grenfell and Hunt, and Montanari;9 and of these two I much prefer Ludwich,10 though the asyndeton is unexpected (i.e. a δὲ after ἄτοπον seems likely). Ludwich (1902, 19) comments: “Unziemlich wäre es gewesen, hätte Achilleus gebeten, dass Poseidon ihn so, wie vorhin den Aeneas (Υ 325 Αἰνεί̣αν δ’ ἔσσευεν) der Gefahr entreissen möchte.” Montanari’s edition is quite conservative, as is his translation (which renders ἄτοπον δὲ alone: “Fuori luogo poi sarebbe . . . ”). Erbse’s text is radically different, and can be translated:

8

9 Allen does not indicate line divisions. See Montanari (1989, 288–9). Allen (1900, 17) writes: “προσημει[ωμενο]ν, ‘foretold by’. This makes Aristotle disapprove of the λύσις given in T.” I find this reading (and what Allen claims follows from it) problematic: aside from anything else, προσημειωμενον is unattested, and moreover is likely too long given the space available. 10

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 7/12/2018, SPi

Aristotle on the Theomachy in Iliad 21

157

“And it is in fact out of place [for Achilles] to act with youthful arrogance against a kindly god.” But as Montanari comments, this is unlikely to be right (1989, 289): “Erbse invece ha tentato una via completamente diversa e ingegnosa, che tuttavia risulta ancora una volta non soddisfacente ad una revisione delle tracce nel papiro.”11 I think it is fairly safe to conclude that POxy 221 col. xiv 32–4—like what comes before it—is part of a comment on Il. 21.284–6. In addition, as there is no transition to the views of someone else (though the text is brief and lacunose), I think it at least as likely as not that this is still part of Aristotle’s comment. Further, as ἄτοπον . . . Αἰνέαν σεύεσθαι seems to me to be relatively clear, I conclude that Aristotle likely defended Homer here, claiming that Poseidon and Athena did not help Achilles, because Hephaestus was the god set to fight Xanthus (the implication being that therefore he was the god that would help Achilles); moreover, it would have been strange for Poseidon to help Achilles in the way he had helped Aeneas.12 I have nothing to add, except to say that anyone studying or collecting the fragments of Aristotle’s Homeric Problems ought to keep in mind all of POxy 221, col. xiv 27–34.

9.2. ARISTOTLE, CHAMAELEON, AND ANONYMOUS IN THE MARGINS OF GENAVENSIS GR. 44 In Iliad 5, Zeus addresses Ares with a surprising level of hostility: To me you are the most hateful of the gods who hold Olympus; for strife and war and battle too are always dear to you.13 (890–1)

11 For instance, I do not see how he can read an iota after αινεαν. I think a sigma is much more likely, though if I were editing the text, I would place a dot underneath it. 12 I think this is the most likely interpretation of the Poseidon–Aeneas parallel. Of course, I cannot rule out other possible readings, for instance: that Poseidon not helping Achilles is ἄτοπον, since he was willing to carry off Aeneas; or, that since it was ἄτοπον for Poseidon to carry off Aeneas, it was good that Poseidon did not interfere in this case. 13

ἔχθιστος δέ μοί ἐσσι θεῶν οἳ Ὄλυμπον ἔχουσιν· αἰεὶ γάρ τοι ἔρις τε φίλη πόλεμοί τε μάχαι τε.

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 7/12/2018, SPi

158

Aristotle’s Lost Homeric Problems

In Iliad 21, Zeus watches with pleasure as the gods take sides in the war and fight each other: And Zeus heard it, seated on Olympus; and the dear heart in him laughed with joy (γηθοσύνῃ), as he beheld the gods coming together in strife.14 (388–90)

A relatively long scholium on γηθοσύνῃ (Il. 21.390) in the thirteenthcentury Byzantine manuscript Genavensis gr. 44 is usually taken to be contrasting two views of these passages: Aristotle’s (from his Homeric Problems), and Chamaeleon’s reply (from his On the Iliad).15 In what follows, I present a copy of the scholium (Figure 9.3), with a transcription of the text, and then discuss each part of it separately (three parts, in my view, not two), before drawing more general conclusions about the relationship among its parts. I transcribe this as follows:16 “γηθοσύνῃ”· Ἀριστοτέλης ἐν Ἀπορήμασι ζητεῖ πῶς, τῷ Ἄρει ἐπιπλήξας ὅτι αὐτῷ “ἔρις φίλον πόλεμοί τε”,17 οὗτος18 γέγηθεν ἐπὶ τούτοις· φησὶ δὲ ὅτι19 ὀρθῶς ἐπιτιμᾷ τῷ Ἄρει· οὐ γὰρ ἔχαιρεν· ἀλλ’ ὅτι αἰεί οἰνόφλυξ·

14

. . . ἄϊε δὲ Ζεὺς ἥμενος Οὐλύμπῳ· ἐγέλασσε δέ οἱ φίλον ἦτορ γηθοσύνῃ, ὅθ’ ὁρᾶτο θεοὺς ἔριδι ξυνιόντας. 15

Chamaeleon of Heraclea was a Peripatetic philosopher (fourth to third century BC). I have for the most part accepted the transcription of Giangrande (1974, 163–4), and I was aided on a couple of points by Tiziano Dorandi (personal communication). I have expanded the abbreviations, added capitalization, and—in the case of the Homeric text—quotation marks. I further indicate, in footnotes, the liberties Nicole (followed by Wehrli) has taken with the text: see Nicole (1891, 206–7) and Wehrli (1969, 53). The revisions of Erbse (1977, 217–18), also noted, are less extreme. I register as well the differences in the most recent collection of the fragments of Chamaeleon: Martano (2012, 218). Note that Giangrande was critical of Giordano’s edition of this scholium in the latter’s Chamaeleontis Fragmenta (1977), as Giordano too accepted many of Nicole’s emendations. Giordano was convinced by most of Giangrande’s suggestions, and in his second edition of this work (1990, 50–1) the text is much closer to the manuscript. (All references to Giordano are to the second edition.) In what follows, references to these scholars by name alone are to these works and pages. 17 Cf. the text of Il. 5.891 in the manuscript tradition: ἔρις τε φίλη πόλεμοί τε. 18 Nicole (followed by Wehrli and Erbse) emends οὗτος to αὐτὸς—unnecessarily, as Giangrande argues. 19 Nicole omits ὅτι. 16

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 7/12/2018, SPi

Aristotle on the Theomachy in Iliad 21

159

Fig. 9.3. Scholium on γηθοσύνῃ (Il. 21.390) in Genavensis gr. 44 (Bibliothèque de Genève, Ms. gr. 44), p. 720. http://www.e-codices.unifr.ch/en/ bge/gr0044/720/0/Sequence-116. Reproduced with the kind permission of Bibliothèque de Genève, Département des manuscrits. οὐδὲ φιλόμαχος ὅστις χαίρει οἴνῳ· ἀλλ’ ὅτι αἰεὶ καὶ σφόδρα.20 Χαμαιλέων ἐν α´ Περὶ21 Ἰλιάδος μέμφεται τὸ ἐθελόκακον τοῦ Διὸς καί φησιν ὥσπερ εἴ22 τι καλὸν ὁρῶ·23 ἀλλ’ οὐ τὴν μεγίστην ἀτοπίαν· ῥητέον ὅτι24 περὶ ἀρετῆς ἡμιλλῶντο· οὐ γὰρ ἦσαν θνητοὶ ἵνα κινδυνεύσωσι. :~

Here is my translation of the Aristotle portion of our text, without any emendations (though I do ignore the manuscript’s punctuation in a couple of places): Aristotle in [Homeric] Problems25 inquires how, having chastised Ares because for him “strife and war are dear” [Il. 5.891], this very person

20 Nicole (followed by Wehrli) radically emends the text here (οὐ γὰρ ἔχαιρεν . . . αἰεὶ καὶ σφόδρα) as follows: οὐ γὰρ ὅστις χαίρει οἴνῳ, ἀλλ’ ὅστις αἰεὶ καὶ σφόδρα, οἰνόφλυξ, οὐδὲ φιλόμαχος ⟨ἦν ὁ Ἄρης ὅτι τῷ πολεμεῖν⟩ ἔχαιρεν, ἀλλ’ ὅτι αἰεί. Erbse does not stray quite so far from the manuscript (but note his transposition of οἰνόφλυξ and φιλόμαχος): οὐ γὰρ ⟨ὅτι ἔριδι⟩ ἔχαιρεν, ἀλλ’ ὅτι αἰεί, φιλόμαχος. οὐδὲ οἰνόφλυξ, ὅστις χαίρει οἴνῳ, ἀλλ’ ὅτι αἰεὶ καὶ σφόδρα. 21 Nicole (followed by Wehrli, Giordano, Giangrande, and Martano) prints τῆς after Περὶ. 22 Erbse and Martano print ὡσπερεί (which is of course identical to ὥσπερ εἴ). 23 Nicole (followed by Wehrli) emends ὁρῶ to ἑώρα, Erbse to ὁρῶν. 24 Nicole, Giangrande, Giordano, and Martano print οὖν between ῥητέον and ὅτι. 25 Or Problems [of Homer]; see chapter 2, section 1 (p. 27). This text is almost certainly from Aristotle’s lost Homeric Problems, as recognized by Erbse. Its publication by Nicole post dates Rose (1886), but it should have been included in Gigon

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 7/12/2018, SPi

160

Aristotle’s Lost Homeric Problems

[i.e. Zeus] rejoiced in these. He says, however, that [Zeus] correctly rebukes Ares: for [Ares] does not [simply] take pleasure [sc. in strife and war], but26 [he does so] ‘always’;27 a wino,28 not a war lover, is whoever takes pleasure in wine, but always and excessively.

Giangrande intelligently defends just such a rendering of our text, commenting: “According to a well-known topos, both the man who drinks wine as a means of becoming warlike (φιλόμαχος) and the alcoholic like wine, but the alcoholic likes it permanently and in excess.” On this interpretation—which does respect the manuscript reading—Aristotle is contrasting a wino (a flawed character) with a war lover (an admirable one). Ares is more like a wino in his attitude toward war, whereas Zeus’ attitude is proper. Giangrande is certainly right to insist that Nicole’s radical revision of the manuscript is unwarranted. I maintain, however, that a couple of Erbse’s emendations, in the same spirit as Nicole’s but not as intrusive, are justified: namely, switching οἰνόφλυξ and φιλόμαχος, and inserting something after γάρ: οὐ γὰρ ⟨ὅτι⟩29 ἔχαιρεν, ἀλλ’ ὅτι αἰεί φιλόμαχος. οὐδὲ οἰνόφλυξ ὅστις χαίρει οἴνῳ, ἀλλ’ ὅτι αἰεὶ καὶ σφόδρα. For he is a war lover not he takes pleasure [sc. in strife and war], but because [he does so] ‘always.’ Nor is a wino whoever takes pleasure in wine, but [he is one] because [he does so] ‘always’ and excessively.30 (1987) and in Breitenberger (2006). It does, however, receive brief but excellent coverage in Bouchard (2016, 75–8). 26 Translating the text as it comes down to us requires accepting Giangrande’s interpretation of ἀλλ’ ὅτι: “Instead of ἀλλά, we find in the passage ἀλλ’ ὅτι, a wellknown vulgarism. Whether this vulgarism proceeds from the scholiast’s pen, who quoted Aristotle from memory and wrote ἀλλ’ ὅτι instead of ἀλλά, or from Aristotle himself, is impossible to say.” In the end, I do not find this a natural or necessary way of reading ἀλλ’ ὅτι. For another way of taking the second ἀλλ’ ὅτι, see note 30 below. 27 I think Aristotle uses the Homeric spelling αἰεί (rather than ἀει ́) to emphasize the centrality of this word to Zeus’ criticism of Ares. 28 Perhaps ‘wino’ is not a perfect rendering of οἰνόφλυξ (LSJ s.v.: given to drinking, drunken)—cf. Giangrande’s ‘alcoholic’—but I want to make clear the οἰνο- connection. 29 Erbse inserts ὅτι ἔριδι, based on schol. bT Il. 5.890–1 (the relevant part of which is quoted below). This is certainly plausible, and arguably better; but I want to limit my changes to the received text as far as possible. 30 Stephen Menn has suggested to me (private communication) the possibility that the second ἀλλ’ ὅτι (which lines up directly under the first—see Figure 9.3) might be a scribal error for ἀλλ’ ὅστις, in which case we should translate the final line: “Nor is a wino whoever takes pleasure in wine, but whoever [does so] ‘always’ and excessively.”

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 7/12/2018, SPi

Aristotle on the Theomachy in Iliad 21

161

I think this more likely represents what Aristotle said. On this interpretation, he is not contrasting the wino and the war lover (as in Giangrande’s reading), but comparing them. The difference between Ares and Zeus is that Ares is a war lover: his attitude to war is what a wino’s is to wine (whereas Zeus’ attitude to war is what a properly moderate drinker’s is to wine). So there is no contradiction (as some ancient critics must have claimed there was)31 between Zeus’ expression of contempt for Ares’ love of war in Iliad 5, and Zeus on a certain occasion laughing “with joy as he beheld the gods coming together in strife.” This interpretation gets some support from schol. bT Il. 5.890–1, part of which I present here.32 After paraphrasing Il. 5.890 (μεμισῆσθαι . . . τῷ Διῒ τὸν Ἄρεα, “Ares is hated by Zeus”), the scholiast writes: But [Zeus] is not vexed by him because he takes pleasure in strife—since [Zeus] himself laughed, “as he beheld the gods coming together in strife”—but because [he does so] always and too much. Indeed, the one taking pleasure in wine intensively and always is called a wino.33

Hintenlang (1961, 118–19) discusses our Geneva scholium in connection with schol. b Il 24.569 (= fr. 168 Rose/391.1 Gigon),34 on the supposed unevenness of the characterization of Achilles. That is a worthwhile comparison to make, as it shows that in some cases Aristotle is capable of criticizing Homer, and specifically for inconsistency in characterization—which seems to have been a charge also leveled against Homer’s Zeus, as he is portrayed in Iliad 5 and 21, thus prompting (in this case) Aristotle’s defense of Homer. But I think a better understanding of the text is indicated in part of a scholium on Il. 21.388–90, the source of which is Porphyry. It claims that the apparent contradiction between Il. 21.388–90 and Il. 5.890–1 is resolved by attending to the word αἰεί in the latter: “The solution comes out of the language: for the ‘always’ placed [in Il. 5.891]

31

See the possibly Porphyrean scholium on Il. 21.388–90 quoted below. It is impossible to determine the exact connection between these two texts. On the complicated relationship between the bT scholia and the Geneva scholia, and their sources, specifically with reference to Iliad 21, see van der Valk (1963, 1: 440–6). 33 ἄχθεται δὲ αὐτῷ οὐχ ὅτι ἔριδι χαίρει—ἐπεὶ αὐτὸς γελᾷ, “ὅθ’ ὁρᾶτο θεοὺς ἔριδι ξυνιόντας”—ἀλλ’ ὅτι ἀεὶ καὶ πάνυ. καὶ οἰνόφλυξ λέγεται ὁ οἴνῳ χαίρων (bT) καὶ σφόδρα καὶ ἀεί. (T) 34 Cf. schol. T Il. 24.569 and Eust. Il. 24.569 (4.956.1–5). 32

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 7/12/2018, SPi

162

Aristotle’s Lost Homeric Problems

resolves the inconsistency.”35 So I think an even more apt comparison (than the one suggested by Hintenlang) is with for instance schol. B* Il. 2.649 (= fr. 146 Rose/370 Gigon)—a text discussed in chapter 5, section 2.3 (pp. 97–8)—according to which Aristotle solves a Homeric problem involving an apparent contradiction by focusing on language, i.e. by explaining why in the Iliad (at 2.649) Homer refers to Crete’s one hundred cities, whereas in the Odyssey (at 19.172–4) he refers to her ninety cities. I next present not my own translation of the remainder of schol. Ge Il. 21.390 (as transmitted), but as a foil one based on Giangrande’s interpretation, using his actual translation where he provides one:36 Chamaeleon in On the Iliad 137 criticizes the military cowardice of Zeus and says [ironically]38 “As it were, I see here something beautiful, and not the greatest absurdity. One must say that they [sc. Zeus and Ares] were quarreling about excellence; for they were not mortals, such as to risk their lives.”39

Giangrande concludes his discussion as follows: “Aristotle’s ‘Rechtfertigung des Zeus in Ilias XXI, 390,’40 which Chamaileon criticizes here, would make Zeus a coward (τὸ ἐθελόκακον τοῦ Διός): this is absurd, so argues Chamaileon, because Zeus and Ares ‘were not mortals, such as to (ἵνα, consecutive) risk their lives (κινδυνεύσωσιν)’ when taking part in war.” I have a number of problems with this interpretation. First, I see no indication that Zeus is a coward in Il. 21.388–90. Now it could be the action of a particular kind of coward to laugh at people taking part in war while avoiding it himself; but this is not what cowardice is essentially, nor is there any reason to think this is part of Zeus’ 35 ἡ δὲ λύσις ἐκ τῆς λέξεως· τὸ γὰρ αἰεί προσκείμενον τὴν διαφωνίαν λύει. Schrader (1880, 254–5) included this text in his collection of fragments; MacPhail (2011) did not. Erbse records this text in his apparatus of parallel texts. Of the three manuscripts containing this scholium (Venetus gr. 821, Escurialensis 509, Leidensis gr. 64), the second two attribute it to Porphyry. Recall Arist. Poet. 25.1461a9–10: “some problems should be solved by looking at the language.” 36 Whereas the first half of this scholium was not included in collections of the fragments of Aristotle (see note 25 above), the second half was included in collections of the fragments of Chamaeleon: Wehrli (f. 18), Giordano (f. 18), Martano (f. 20). 37 A scholium on Ap. Rhod. Argon. 2.904–10a (Wendel) (= f. 17 Martano) indicates that Chamaeleon’s On the Iliad was a work in at least five books. 38 Giangrande: “Chamaileon’s words are ironic.” 39 Cf. Martano’s translation (2012, 219). 40 He is quoting Wehrli (1969, 77).

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 7/12/2018, SPi

Aristotle on the Theomachy in Iliad 21

163

character in the Theomachy of Iliad 21 (or in any other scene). So against Giangrande’s explicit claims to the contrary,41 I think it makes much more sense to take τὸ ἐθελόκακον to refer to ill-will or malevolence (its original meaning), and not to military cowardice or willful neglect of duty (a derivative meaning).42 It is malevolent (Chamaeleon claims) for Zeus to laugh with joy at the other gods engaged in war.43 Second, I think that it is quite a stretch to attribute irony to Chamaeleon here, and that a more straightforward interpretation is desirable, even if that requires a minor emendation (described below). Third, I see no clear connection between the two halves of this part of our text—the material that comes before ῥητέον, and the comment that begins with ῥητέον—and there is no reason to assume that there is a connection (that is, such a connection would have to be established). In fact, I think it highly likely that these two halves represent the views of two different Homeric scholars, this last one unknown.44 (More on this shortly.) Fourth (and related to the third), it is not clear (in fact it is unlikely) that Chamaeleon is discussing both Il. 5.890–1 and Il. 21.388–90 (as Aristotle is), and therefore there is no compelling reason to think that the implied subject of ἡμιλλῶντο and κινδυνεύσωσι is Zeus and Ares (as opposed to the Olympian gods that Zeus was watching). Finally, it is not obvious that Chamaeleon was originally replying to and criticizing Aristotle, though that is one possibility. Another, however, is that the scholiast put together lines from different Homeric scholars who had commented on Il. 21.390, and Aristotle’s and Chamaeleon’s were simply two of these.45 41 “Τὸ ἐθελόκακον does not mean ‘intenzionale stortura’, as Giordano takes it . . . Τὸ ἐθελόκακον means military cowardice (cf. LSJ, s.v. ἐθελόκακος, II).” 42 See LSJ s.v.v. ἐθελόκακος, ἐθελοκακέω, ἐθελοκάκησις. Note Mirhady (2012, 407): “The striking use of the military term for willful inaction or failure (to ethelokakon) in [f.] 20 seems to allow no precise explanation.” 43 Richardson (1993, 87): “Chamaeleon . . . found Zeus’ apparent malevolence inexplicable.” Bouchard (2016, 76 n. 97): “Le mot ἐθελόκακον, faiblement attesté, signifie apparemment “coupable de lâcheté volontaire” dans un contexte martial (soir LSJ s.u.). Je traduis ici en suivant la glose d’Hésychios s.u. ἐθελοκάκων (ε 645): τῶν κακὰ θελόντων.” 44 Again, see Bouchard (2016, 76 n. 98): “La formulation particulière de cette phrase, qui commence par ῥητέον, exclut son appartenance à la citation de Chaméléon, pace Wehrli [1969, 53] et Martano 2012, p. 219–20; cf. M. Heath 2009, p. 260 n. 18.” 45 It may not be a coincidence that the scholiast placed Χαμαιλέων and ῥητέον flush left (see Figure 9.3), each at the beginning of a new line, just as Ἀριστοτέλης immediately follows the lemma.

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 7/12/2018, SPi

164

Aristotle’s Lost Homeric Problems

So, I think it best (1) to accept Erbse’s emendation of ὁρῶ (to ὁρῶν) and to follow him in treating the line that contains it as a direct quotation, and (2) to treat the content of this part of the scholium as two distinct views. I would therefore translate the remainder of the scholium as follows: Chamaeleon in On the Iliad 1 criticizes the malevolence of Zeus and says: “just as if seeing something noble, and not the greatest oddity.” One must say that they [sc. the gods Zeus was observing] were quarreling about excellence; for they were not mortals, such as to risk their lives.

As for the relationship between the Aristotle comment and the Chamaeleon comment, it is unfortunately impossible to say much with certainty. On the one hand, we should not simply assume that because the one comment follows the other that Chamaeleon was originally criticizing or reacting to Aristotle.46 On the other hand, we should not rule out that possibility: that is, one should not conclude that because Aristotle deals with two Iliad passages (5.890–1 and 21.388–90) and is concerned with resolving an apparent contradiction between them, whereas Chamaeleon (as far as one can tell) deals with only the latter passage and is concerned to criticize Zeus (and thus Homer),47 that the Chamaeleon comment could not have been part of a reply (or in part a reply) to Aristotle.48 Chamaeleon was part of Aristotle’s school, and must have known his work on Homer. So it is likely that he was aware that his own appraisal of Il. 21.388–90 was different from Aristotle’s, and that this difference might well have been taken to be a reply to or criticism of Aristotle. I should mention in this connection evidence of one other case in which Aristotle and Chamaeleon comment on the same Homeric passage: I have already mentioned (in chapter 5, section 2.1 (pp. 90–1, note 55)) one text which is evidence for Aristotle’s problem with the adjective αὐδήεσσα (‘endowed with mortal voice’). But other evidence 46 See e.g. Wehrli (1969, 77): “Ch. stellt sich mit seiner Kritik also in Gegensatz zu Aristoteles”; and, Podlecki (1969, 120–1): “Chamaeleon was having none of this [sc. Aristotle’s defense of Zeus]; he blamed Zeus for neglect of duty, τὸ ἐθελόκακον, and found the divine battle in 21 ‘extremely strange.’ ” Cf. Martano (2012, 219 n. 3). 47 Mirhady (2012, 407): “The scholiast cites Chamaeleon as criticizing Zeus, but of course this may be short-hand for a criticism of Homer.” 48 See Bouchard (2016, 76), who contrasts the scope of Aristotle’s and Chamaeleon’s criticisms (in the way I have indicated), and adds: “Leur succession dans les scholies ne doit pas donner l’illusion que l’un représente une réponse à l’autre (bien que cela demeure possible).”

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 7/12/2018, SPi

Aristotle on the Theomachy in Iliad 21

165

(not discussed there) indicates that Aristotle and Chamaeleon agreed that αὐδήεσσα should be replaced with οὐδήεσσαν, which is said to be similar in meaning to ἐπίγειος (‘terrestrial’).49 Here is schol. HMaOP1 Od. 5.334c1 (= 171.2 Rose/394.1 Gigon = Chamaeleon f. 24A Martano): Aristophanes [of Byzantium] says that the anthropomorphic goddesses are ‘able to speak with a human voice,’ as if having exchanged their voice, whereas Aristotle writes ‘οὐδήεσσαν,’ as if [it meant] ‘terrestrial.’ So too Chamaeleon.50

Chamaeleon in this case agrees with Aristotle. This text does not shed much light on the scholium that concerns us, however. At most it provides further support for Chamaeleon’s awareness of Aristotle’s work on Homer, unless of course in both cases it is merely a coincidence that the scholiasts juxtaposed the opinions of Aristotle and Chamaeleon. I turn now to the third comment, which I believe is likely from an anonymous source.51 First, I think Podlecki (who expresses doubt about whether this is part of Chamaeleon’s comment) inadvertently indicates the contradiction involved in attributing this to Chamaeleon and connecting it to his criticism of Zeus’ malevolence (1969, 120–1): “He [sc. Chamaeleon] apparently went on (if Wehrli is right in including the next sentence in the citation) to defend the scene on the grounds that the gods were striving περὶ ἀρετῆς, and were in no danger, as they would have been had they been mortals.” So on this view, Chamaeleon would be simultaneously criticizing Zeus’ behavior in the Theomachy and defending the scene, and that to me seems implausible.52 I think it 49 I assume with most scholars that the source in Aristotle’s case is his lost work on Homer. The source in Chamaeleon’s case is likely either a work entitled On the Odyssey (though there is no ancient evidence for such a title) or On Homer (Diog. Laert. 5.92 [110–12 Dorandi]), though we should not rule out its coming from his On the Iliad. 50 ὁ μὲν Ἀριστοφάνης τὰς ἀνθρωποειδεῖς θεὰς “αὐδηέσσας” φησὶν οἱονεὶ φωνὴν μετειληφυίας, ὁ δὲ Ἀριστοτέλης “οὐδήεσσαν” γράφει οἱονεὶ ἐπίγειον. οὕτως καὶ Χαμαιλέων. 51 One might argue that the absence of the word ἄλλως at the beginning of this comment (standard in scholia to indicate an alternative source) supports treating these words as coming from Chamaeleon as well. The absence of ἄλλως, however, and with it the conflation of sources, is common in the scholia. See Dickey (2007, 108–9). 52 Cf. Martano (2012, 219–21 n. 3). Arguably one way to attribute both parts to Chamaeleon while avoiding contradiction is to see the second part as a different point that Chamaeleon makes. Thus Mirhady (2012, 407): “Chamaeleon goes on to another novel analysis in criticizing the gods’ competition over aretê because they are not really risking their lives.” This third comment, however, does not seem to be a criticism.

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 7/12/2018, SPi

166

Aristotle’s Lost Homeric Problems

best to treat this as an entirely different comment on Il. 21.390, which is how Richardson takes it (1993, 87): “One defence offered that Zeus was pleased because the gods were contending περὶ ἀρετῆς and yet without risk”—that is, Zeus was not taking pleasure in war (which would have been the basis for a charge of malevolence) but in his fellow Olympians taking virtue seriously. This same interpretation is found in a couple of scholia on Il. 21.389, one of them connecting Il. 21.388–90 to Od. 8.75–8, which depicts Agamemnon being pleased that the best of the Achaeans— Odysseus and Achilles—are arguing (purportedly over virtue, though that is less clear from the context in the Odyssey): . . . since he sees them arguing about virtue, Zeus takes pleasure in it.53 (Schol. T Il. 21.389a1) . . . Agamemnon took pleasure, “because the best of the Achaeans were wrangling,” since he was seeing them arguing about virtue.54 (Schol. b Il. 21.389a2)

These scholia, and the third comment in schol. Ge Il. 21.390, may have the same source. The point would seem to be—in reply to those who are critical of Homer here or at least think he needs defending— that Homer is not to be criticized for the absurdity of presenting the gods engaged in warfare when they cannot be harmed, and/or for presenting Zeus’ malevolently feeling joy; rather, Homer is to be praised for presenting Zeus rejoicing in the gods clashing over virtue or excellence.55 Another possibility (though I would not say probability) is that the source of the third comment comes from the allegorical tradition of interpreting Homer.56 (Even if this is not the case, it is worth mentioning this possibility here, as a contrast to Aristotle’s interpretation.) I have in mind particularly Heraclitus’ Homeric Problems 54.57 According to Heraclitus, one purpose of the Theomachy in Iliad 21

. . . ἐπεὶ ὁρᾷ περὶ ἀρετῆς αὐτοὺς ἀγωνιζομένους, χαίρει ὁ Ζεύς. . . . Ἀγαμέμνων ἔχαιρεν, “ὅτ’ ἄριστοι Ἀχαιῶν δηριόωντο”, ἐπεὶ ὥρα περὶ ἀρετῆς αὐτοὺς ἀγωνιζομένους. 55 The background to all of these texts may well be Herodotus 8.26, on the Olympic athletes competing not over money but over excellence (οὐ περὶ χρημάτων τὸν ἀγῶνα ποιεῦνται ἀλλὰ περὶ ἀρετῆς). I owe this reference to Stephen Menn. 56 See Bouchard (2016, 77). 57 And more generally, the allegorical approach to interpretation sketched in chapter 1, section 1 (pp. 4–5). 53 54

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 7/12/2018, SPi

Aristotle on the Theomachy in Iliad 21

167

is to illustrate the opposition of virtues and vices (the chapter opens Ἀντέταξε γοῦν κακίαις μὲν ἀρετάς, “Now in fact [Homer] has opposed virtues and vices” etc.). The pairing of the gods in battle is said to be philosophically meaningful (τῶν θεῶν ἡ ζεῦξις οὕτω πεφιλοσόφηται): Most of the chapter is devoted to Athena’s defeat of Ares, which Heraclitus says represents the superiority of wisdom (φρόνησις) over folly (ἀφροσύνη). And at the end of the chapter, we are told that Athena’s defeat of Aphrodite represents the superiority of wisdom over lack of self-control (ἀκολασία). So in contrast to the two scholia (on Il. 21.389) just mentioned, on this interpretation of the third comment Zeus is admirable not because of his joy in watching the gods at war, but because of his (and so Homer’s) approval of the result of their fighting: the victory of virtue over vice. All one can say, however, given the scant evidence, is that this interpretation is one possibility. A final point about the third comment in the Geneva scholium: There is no reason to assume, though it is not impossible, that it was originally part of a criticism leveled against Chamaeleon—though the scholiast may have considered it such in placing it after Chamaeleon’s criticism of Zeus.58 In conclusion, I would summarize the three comments contained in schol. Ge Il. 21.390 as follows: Aristotle claimed there is nothing improper about Zeus’ character as portrayed in Il. 21.388–90; he is enjoying with due moderation watching the other Olympians engaged in war (and there is no inconsistency between that portrayal and Zeus’ chastisement of Ares in Iliad 5). Chamaeleon would disagree: Zeus as portrayed in Il. 21.388–90 is malevolent, in that he is gleefully watching this fighting, and so this was improper on the part of Homer. The anonymous scholar would disagree with that: There is nothing improper about Zeus’ character as portrayed in Il. 21.388–90, since he is enjoying watching the gods fighting (without risk)—not because they are fighting, but because they are fighting about virtue (which they take seriously).59

58 Cf. Bouchard (2016, 76–7): “Celle-ci [i.e. the sentence beginning ῥητέον] est apparemment une réplique offerte par un commentateur anonyme à la critique de Chaméléon.” 59 I wish to thank Stephen Menn for feedback on the 2016 essay (see p. xxv) that became the second part of this chapter.

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 7/12/2018, SPi

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 8/12/2018, SPi

10 Aristotle’s Naturalistic Interpretation of Odyssey 12 The hexametric epigram atop the folio on which Odyssey 12 begins in Palat. gr. 45 (fol. 105r) reads Μῦ Σειρῆνας ἔχει Πλαγκτὰς βοῦς τ’ Ἠελίοιο: “Book 12 contains Sirens, Wandering-Rocks, and the Cattle of the Sun.”1 I do not know whether this was a standard way in antiquity of presenting the content of Od. 12 in capsule form, but it serves to introduce the material in this chapter. For I am going to argue that Aristotle may have said something about the Sirens of Od. 12, likely commented on the Wandering Rocks (or more accurately, the doves that could not fly by or through them), and certainly discussed the Cattle of the Sun. And it makes sense to treat together what Aristotle (might have) said about these topics, as they together focus attention on the question: Did Aristotle ever interpret Homer allegorically? As we have seen so far—and most recently in the previous chapter, considering his approach to the Theomachy of Iliad 21—Aristotle does not interpret Homer allegorically. There are, however, two sets of fragments—on the ambrosia-bearing doves and on the Cattle of the Sun—that have been considered instances of Aristotle 1 On the hexametric epigrams for the books of Homer, see Schrader (1888), and especially pp. 590–600 on the Odyssey (p. 595 on Μυ). The hypothesis of Od. 12 includes more than the epigram, also referring to Odysseus rising out of Hades and returning to Circe, sailing between Scylla and Charybdis, and his alone surviving the destruction of his ship and making his way to Calypso on a plank (see Ernst 2006, 257): Διηγεῖται τὴν ἐξ Ἅιδου γενομένην αὐτῷ ἐπάνοδον πρὸς Κίρκην· καὶ ὡς τὰς Σειρῆνας παρέπλευσε καὶ τὰς Πλαγκτὰς πέτρας, Σκύλλαν τε καὶ Χάρυβδιν· καὶ τὴν τῆς αὑτοῦ νεὼς καὶ τῶν ἑταίρων ἀπώλειαν ἀνελόντων τινὰς τῶν Ἡλίου βοῶν· καὶ ὡς μόνος ἐπὶ ξύλου πρὸς Καλυψὼ διεσώθη. (This is identical to the opening of Eustathius’ commentary on Od. 12 (2.1.3–5).)

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 8/12/2018, SPi

170

Aristotle’s Lost Homeric Problems

interpreting Homer this way.2 In what follows, I want to examine whether Odyssey 12 might have been a special case for Aristotle.

10.1. THE SIRENS In Odysseus’ account of his adventures, he twice (in Odyssey 12) mentions the Sirens: first when Circe warns him about them (39–54), and a bit later when he and his crew actually encounter them (153–200). There is no indication that they are anything but women (at least in form) with beautiful, alluring voices as well as special cognitive powers: i.e. they claim to know everything that happens on earth, and they do know Odysseus’ name apparently without having been told (184–91). They are clearly two in number (Homer uses the dual), and no names are mentioned. Sometime later in history, however, their form, number, and anonymity changed. For instance, Euripides in his Helen (166–8) says that they are winged virgins and daughters of the earth.3 Photius, Lexicon σ 117 (σειρῆνας), begins by describing them as “certain women with good voices,” but a bit later states: “From their chests up they have the form of sparrows, below [they have the form] of women.”4 (One suspects the ἄνω and κάτω have been mixed up here!5) Suda σ 280 (σειρῆνας) includes this same line, but then adds: “Mythologers claim 2 Lamberton (1992, xii–xv) discusses two examples (as he rejects the fragments concerning the Cattle of the Sun, which I cover in the third section of this chapter): one concerns Calchas’ interpretation of the snake prophecy in Iliad 2 (schol. B* Iliad 2.305 = Porph. HQI pp. 44–7 MacPhail = fr. 145 Rose/369 Gigon), and one the Gorgon’s head on Athena’s shield (schol. B* Iliad 5.741 = Porph. HQI pp. 98–101 MacPhail = fr. 153 Rose/377 Gigon). I cannot see why these two should be considered examples of allegorical interpretation, and do not discuss them. (In any case, see the discussion of them in Bouchard 2016, 58–62.) As with the Cattle of the Sun passages, Lamberton does not consider genuinely Aristotelian the fragments on the ambrosiabearing doves (1992, xiii–xiv n. 21), which I discuss in the second section. 3 πτεροφόροι νεάνιδες | παρθένοι Χθονὸς κόραι | Σειρῆνες. Eustathius, in a passage on the Sirens in which he quotes Aristotle (more on this shortly), writes that the new poets, and not Homer, invented the wings: οὗτοι [sc. οἱ νεώτεροι] δὲ καὶ πτερωτὰς αὐτὰς πλάττουσιν, οὐ μὴν οὕτω καὶ ὁ ποιητής. 4 γυναῖκάς τινας εὐφώνους . . . εἶχον δὲ ἀπὸ μὲν τοῦ θώρακος καὶ ἄνω εἶδος στρουθῶν, τὰ δὲ κάτω γυναικῶν. 5 I assume this explains why for instance the most recent editor of Photius obelizes εἶδος στρουθῶν, τὰ δὲ κάτω γυναικῶν. (See the previous note.)

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 8/12/2018, SPi

Aristotle’s Naturalistic Interpretation of Odyssey 12

171

Sirens are little female-faced birds,”6 which is closer to what one expects. Their number eventually rose to three;7 and as for what they are called, Hinz writes (2011): “There are two sequences of names: Thelxiepeia, Aglaope and Peisinoe, deriving from Hesiod’s nomenclature,8 and Parthenope, Leucosia and Ligeia, which originate in southern Italian place names and can be traced back to Timaeus [22.291]” (brackets in the original).9 There is of course no justification in interpreting or discussing Homer in light of these later transformations, though it is not surprising that that is precisely what happened. Ancient Homeric scholars raised a number of questions about the Sirens, among them: How many are there? and What are their names? as well as the perfectly legitimate question (from the perspective of Homeric scholarship): What kind of being are they? Consider for example the following passage from Eustathius’ long discussion of the Sirens: The poet makes clear that these are two, in the [verses] in which he says: “you will hear the voice of the pair-of-Sirens” [Od. 12.52], and “the island of the pair-of-Sirens” [12.167], for Σειρήνοϊν is dual, like ποδοῖ ϊν and ὤμοιϊν. And some agree with Homer [that there are two], who also claim that their names are Aglaopheme and Thelxiepeia. But the new [poets], among whom is indeed Lycophron,10 number them three: Parthenope, Ligeia, and Leucosia.11 (Od. 12.167 (2.5.16–20))

I should also mention the allegorical interpretation of the Sirens, which would later become widespread. Consider Heraclitus, who begins Homeric Problems 70 with the claim (70.1): “Odysseus’ μυθολόγοι Σειρῆνας φασὶ θηλυπρόσωπά τινα ὀρνίθια εἶναι. Generally, though Plato put their number at eight (Rep. 10.617b). 8 Presumably from Hesiod’s lost Catalogue of Women. See schol. Ap. Rhod. 4.892 (Wendel): καλὴν Ἀνθεμόεσσαν: ἠκολούθησεν Ἡσιόδῳ οὕτως ὀνομάζοντι τὴν νῆσον τῶν Σειρήνων· “νῆσον ἐς Ἀνθεμόεσσαν, ἵνα σφίσι δῶκε Κρονίων” [fr. 27 Merkelbach and West]. ὀνόματα δὲ αὐτῶν Θελξιόπη ἢ Θελξινόη, Μόλπη, Ἀγλαόφωνος. 9 For general accounts of the Sirens, see Gresseth (1970), Bettini and Spina (2010), and Hinz (2011). 10 See Lycophron’s Alexandra 712–31. He presents the Sirens as winged. The καί here (‘indeed’) might also be translated ‘especially.’ 11 δύο δὲ αὐτὰς ἐμφαίνει ὁ ποιητὴς ἐν οἷς λέγει· “ὄπα ἀκούσῃς Σειρήνοιϊν”, καὶ “νῆσον Σειρήνοιϊν”, δυϊκὸν γὰρ τὸ Σειρήνοϊν, ὡς τὸ ποδοῖ ϊν καὶ ὤμοιϊν. καὶ συνέδραμόν τινες τῷ Ὁμήρῳ, οἳ καὶ ὀνόματά φασιν εἶναι αὐταῖς· Ἀγλαοφήμην καὶ Θελξιέπειαν. οἱ δὲ νεώτεροι, ἐν οἷς καὶ Λυκόφρων, τρεῖς αὐτὰς ἀριθμοῦσι, Παρθενόπην, Λίγειαν, καὶ Λευκωσίαν. Cf. schol. D Od. 12.39: ὀνόματα δὲ αὐτῶν Ἀγλαοφήμη, Θελξιέπεια, Πεισινόη, καὶ Λίγεια. κατὰ δὲ Ὅμηρον δύο· “Σειρήνοιϊν” γὰρ λέγει. 6 7

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 8/12/2018, SPi

172

Aristotle’s Lost Homeric Problems

wandering generally, if one is willing to study it carefully, will be found to be allegorical.” For example, the land of the Lotus Eaters represents pleasure, on his view, and particularly exotic delights (70.3).12 (Cf. his similar characterization of Charybdis and Scylla, 70.10–11.13) The Sirens, however, represent not the lure of pleasure (as they often will later, especially among Christian authors), but Odysseus’ vast knowledge of history (or his desire for it): “And further, he listens to the Sirens, learning from them the varied history of all ages” (70.9).14 It is possible that they were interpreted allegorically by earlier Homeric scholars, like Theagenes of Rhegium, but if so, no evidence for such an interpretation has survived. I turn now to the existing evidence, scant though it is, that Aristotle may have discussed the Homeric Sirens.15 I begin by setting part of the context necessary for evaluating the first two sources, by citing and quoting from HA 8(9).40. There Aristotle lists nine kinds of beelike insects, six gregarious and three solitary (623b5–13). Two of the latter three are called sirens: “the small siren, grey, the other larger siren, black and speckled”16 (623b11). This is one of only two mentions of sirens in the extant works of Aristotle (I discuss the other later), and it is clearly not a reference to the Sirens of Od. 12. Nevertheless, the next three texts I turn to (one from Zenobius

12 Ἡδονὴν μέν γε, τὸ Λωτοφάγον χωρίον, ξένης γεωργὸν ἀπολαύσεως, ἣν Ὀδυσσεὺς ἐγκρατῶς παρέπλευσεν. 13 Καθόλου δὲ τὴν Ὀδυσσέως πλάνην, εἴ τις ἀκριβῶς ἐθέλει σκοπεῖν, ἠλληγορημένην εὑρήσει. 14 Ἔτι δὲ Σειρήνων ἀκούει, τὰς πολυπείρους ἱστορίας παντὸς αἰῶνος ἐκμαθών. 15 I discount the Peripatetic On Marvelous Things Heard 103, which names the Sirens worshiped on the Seirenousae or Siren islands, off the coast of Italy: Parthenope, Leucosia, and Ligeia. (This work, though attributed to Aristotle, is generally considered inauthentic. I have a somewhat more favorable view of its Aristotelian provenance, however: See chapter 4, section 2 (p. 73 n. 90).) I also discount John of Lydia, De mensibus (incert. 4 Wünsch), from the sixth century. After quoting what Euripides says in Helen about the Sirens, John adds: “Aristotle in Peplos says they are named Thelxiepeia, Aglaopheme, Peisinoe” (ὁ δ’ Ἀριστοτέλης ἐν Πέπλῳ ὀνομάζεσθαι αὐτὰς λέγει Θελξιέπειαν Ἀγλαοφήμην Πασινόην.) If this refers to a Peripatetic work at all, it is not the one that contains epigrams for the fallen heroes of the Trojan War, but the second work with that title listed in the Vita Hesychii: Πέπλον· περιέχει δὲ ἱστορίαν σύμμικτον (“Robe; it contains a miscellaneous history” (187 Dorandi)). On the De mensibus as a source for the lost works of the Peripatetics, see Fortenbaugh (2011, 86–7). He ends his discussion: “There is no certainty here.” It is of course possible that Aristotle somewhere discussed the names of the Sirens; but with such meager evidence, one can say no more than that. 16 σειρὴν ὁ μικρός, φαιός, ἄλλος σειρὴν ὁ μείζων, ὁ μέλας καὶ ποικίλος.

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 8/12/2018, SPi

Aristotle’s Naturalistic Interpretation of Odyssey 12

173

(second century AD) and two from Eustathius) seem to discuss the Sirens of Od. 12 in connection with this HA 8(9).40 passage. Zenobius 5.97 (= fr. 359 Rose/290 Gigon) presents a proverb and a brief comment on it: “‘A siren announces a friend, a bee a stranger’: ‘siren’ refers not to one of the musical virgins, but to a winged animal like a bee, as Aristotle says.”17 This is somewhat ambiguous. If Zenobius (or his sources, as he is basically a compiler of proverbs)18 is claiming only that Aristotle said a siren is a bee-like insect, then this should not be considered a fragment at all, but merely a reference to HA 8(9).40.623b11. Zenobius is simply explaining—as there may be some confusion—that the siren in the proverb is an insect, and not one of the Sirens of myth. If, however, Zenobius is saying that Aristotle claimed (somewhere) that in this proverb the siren refers not to one of the Sirens described in the Odyssey but to the insect, then this would be a fragment—that is, evidence for something Aristotle said in some lost work.19 And perhaps—as one of Zenobius’ major sources was the Homeric scholar Didymus of Alexandria—that lost work was the Homeric Problems. But absent other evidence, the former interpretation is the one much more likely to be correct. There is, however, some additional evidence from Eustathius, who mentions Aristotle in one passage, and seems to allude to him in another. The first is from his long discussion of Od. 12.167 (2.5.27–9): According to Aristotle, the siren is some small insected animal, thus called in the masculine. And the fact that such [an animal] has a remarkable siren voice shows that it is something wise and holy.20

There is an ambiguity here similar to the one in the Zenobius passage: Either Eustathius is claiming simply that Aristotle said the siren is a kind of insect, or he is claiming that Aristotle said the siren is a kind of insect and he said its voice makes clear that it is something wise and holy. Again, if the former is the case, this is merely a reference to HA 8(9).40.623b11; if the latter, this points to some lost work. 17 “Σειρὴν μὲν φίλον ἀγγέλλει, ξεῖνον δὲ μέλισσα”: σειρῆνα λέγει οὐ τῶν ᾠδικῶν παρθένων μίαν, ἀλλὰ ζῶον ὑπόπτερον μελίσσῃ ἐοικὸς, ὥς φησιν Ἀριστοτέλης. 18 According to Suda ζ 73 (Ζηνόβιος), his main sources were the collections of proverbs by Didymus and Lucillus of Tarrha. 19 On Peripatetic interest in proverbs, see Fortenbaugh (2014, 195–207). 20 παρὰ Ἀριστοτέλει δὲ ζωΰφιόν τι ἔντομόν ἐστιν ὁ σειρὴν, ἀρσενικῶς οὕτω καλούμενος. ὅτι δὲ καὶ σημειώδη τινὰ φωνὴν ὁ τοιοῦτος ἔχει σειρὴν, σοφός τις ἱερὸς δηλοῖ.

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 8/12/2018, SPi

174

Aristotle’s Lost Homeric Problems

In Od. 21, Odysseus strings his bow and then plucks it to try it out (411): “and it sang beautifully under [his touch], like a swallow in sound” (ἣ δ᾽ ὑπὸ καλὸν ἄεισε, χελιδόνι εἰκέλη αὐδήν). In his commentary on this verse (2.265.43–5), Eustathius compares this metaphor to claims about the music of Sirens and nightingales (σειρήνων ἢ ἀηδόνων μουσεῖα), and then contrasts two ways of regarding the Sirens—according to myth, and according to the study of animals— as the song of the former is not worthy of praise (presumably as it lures men to their death).21 The latter, however, might be: “For the siren, an obscure little animal, weeps somewhat, that is, as one might say, it produces a tearful song.”22 Beavis (1988, 198) considers this a reference to Aristotle. If it is, it is (once again) either merely an allusion to HA 8(9).40.623b11, or it also refers to something Aristotle said in a lost work—something about the connection and/or difference between the Sirens of Homer and the sirens of nature. The most one can do is speculate: If Aristotle discussed the Sirens of Od. 12 in his Homeric Problems, and if the texts just sketched are some indication of the nature of that discussion, then Aristotle likely claimed that the sound made by the siren insects might in part explain the origin of the mythical Sirens.23 This speculation is somewhat more plausible if the sirens were kinds of solitary bees (rather than solitary wasps, as they are sometimes thought to be):24 for Aristotle referred to the bees as divine in a sense (unlike wasps and hornets, which are otherwise similar to bees);25 and further, both bees and Sirens have been associated with souls of the dead (though not by Aristotle, so far as I can tell).26 (And perhaps bees in a hive are too numerous and/or too different in sound to be comparable to the Sirens of Homer.) Anticipating a distinction I make later in this 21 . . . τὸ κατὰ σειρῆνας ᾄδειν, εἰ μὴ τὰς τοῦ μύθου νοεῖ τις, ἀλλὰ τὰς τῆς ζωϊκῆς ἱστορίας, οὐ λαλεῖται πρὸς ἔπαινον. 22 τὸ γὰρ ζωΰφιον ἡ σειρὴν ἀμυδρόν τι κλαυθμυρίζεται καὶ, ὡς ἄν τις εἴποι, ψοφεῖ νόμον ἐπίκλαυτον. 23 On the possibility of such a connection, see the references cited by Davies and Kathirithamby (1986, 74). 24 Beavis (1988, 198): “In view of the association of the word elsewhere with the honey bee, these insects should perhaps be identified . . . as solitary bees rather than, as other authors have suggested, as solitary wasps.” See also Davies and Kathirithamby (1986, 73–4). 25 See GA 3.10.765a2–5: οὐ γὰρ ἔχουσιν οὐθὲν θεῖον ὥσπερ τὸ γένος τὸ τῶν μελιττῶν. 26 See Page (1973, 83–90) and Davies and Kathirithamby (1986, 74–5).

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 8/12/2018, SPi

Aristotle’s Naturalistic Interpretation of Odyssey 12

175

chapter, Aristotle would thus be interpreting Homer φυσικῶς and not ἀλληγορικῶς: i.e. scientifically (in the manner of a natural scientist) and not allegorically.27 This would fit nicely the aforementioned distinction between understanding the Sirens according to the study of animals and according to myth. Another example or similar instance of this distinction—between interpreting or understanding the Sirens as myth, and explaining what facts might have given rise to that myth—is this passage from the relevant Suda entry (σ 280, Σειρῆνας): The mythologers claim that Sirens are certain female-faced little birds, who deceive those who sail by, bewitching with certain lewd songs the hearing of those hearing [them]. And the song of pleasure has no other useful end, but death alone. But the true account is this: there are passages in the sea, narrowed by mountains, in which the compressed stream [of water] yields a clear sound; listening to which those sailing by entrust their souls to the flow [of water] and perish, the men with their ships.28

I think we can conclude that if Aristotle discussed or mentioned these insects in connection with the Sirens of Od. 12, then either (1) it was a brief remark to clarify the difference between the two, or (2) it was part of an account of what in nature might have given rise to this myth. What of the mythologers’ claim that the Sirens sang a song of pleasure that led to destruction—or more generally, that the myth was an allegory of some kind: for the destructiveness of carnal temptation, for instance, or for the desire for knowledge (à la Heraclitus the Allegorist)? As I mentioned earlier, I know of no direct evidence of such a view from before or around Aristotle’s time. One passage from Aristotle’s own Eudemian Ethics, however,

27 On Aristotle’s use of φυσικῶς, see e.g. EN 7.3.1147a24–5: “Further, one might also look into the cause [sc. of acting without self-control] scientifically, as follows” (ἔτι καὶ ὧδε φυσικῶς ἄν τις ἐπιβλέψειε τὴν αἰτίαν). 28 οἱ μυθολόγοι Σειρῆνας φασὶ θηλυπρόσωπά τινα ὀρνίθια εἶναι, ἀπατῶντα τοὺς παραπλέοντας, ᾄσμασί τισι πορνικοῖς κηλοῦντα τὰς ἀκοὰς τῶν ἀκροωμένων. καὶ τέλος ἔχει τῆς ἡδονῆς ἡ ᾠδὴ ἕτερον μὲν οὐδὲν χρηστόν, θάνατον δὲ μόνον. ὁ δὲ ἀληθὴς λόγος τοῦτο βούλεται, εἶναι τόπους τινὰς θαλαττίους, ὄρεσί τισιν ἐστενωμένους, ἐν οἷς θλιβόμενον τὸ ῥεῖθρον λιγυράν τινα φωνὴν ἀποδίδωσιν· ἧς ἐπακούοντες οἱ παραπλέοντες ἐμπιστεύουσι τὰς ἑαυτῶν ψυχὰς τῷ ῥεύματι καὶ αὔτανδροι σὺν ταῖς ναυσὶν ἀπόλλυνται.

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 8/12/2018, SPi

176

Aristotle’s Lost Homeric Problems

might hint at such an early interpretation of the Sirens—and at Aristotle’s awareness of it. In EE 3.2, discussing temperance or moderation (σωφροσύνη), Aristotle explains that the domain of this virtue is not all pleasure (e.g. the pleasure one might get from listening to beautiful music), but the physical pleasures connected with taste and touch (i.e. with food, drink, and sex).29 He writes: A man who looks at a beautiful statue, or horse, or human being, or listens to someone singing, without any desire to eat or drink or have sex, but simply wanting to gaze on the beauty and listen to the singing, is no more to be thought intemperate [or ‘unrestrained’, ἀκόλαστος] than those who were spellbound by the Sirens.30 (1230b21–38)

I think it is just possible that this implies a subtle criticism or rejection of the view that the Sirens in Od. 12 represent the lure of physical pleasure, and so is evidence of something Aristotle might have discussed in his Homeric Problems. This view of the Sirens might be implied in Plato’s Phaedrus 258e–259b, where sailing past the Sirens is arguably a metaphor for avoiding the distractions of the world of becoming in one’s quest to reach the intelligible world.31 29

There is a similar discussion in EN 3.10, without mention of the Sirens. εἰ γοῦν τις ἢ καλὸν ἀνδριάντα θεώμενος ἢ ἵππον ἢ ἄνθρωπον, ἢ ἀκροώμενος ᾄδοντος, μὴ βούλοιτο μήτε ἐσθίειν μήτε πίνειν μήτε ἀφροδισιάζειν, ἀλλὰ τὰ μὲν καλὰ θεωρεῖν τῶν δ’ ᾀδόντων ἀκούειν, οὐκ ἂν δόξειεν ἀκόλαστος εἶναι, ὥσπερ οὐδ’ οἱ κηλούμενοι παρὰ ταῖς Σειρῆσιν. 31 This in any case is how Hermias interpreted the passage (in Phaedrum 259a). On the Neoplatonic interpretation of the Sirens, see Pépin (1982, 5–9). The idea that the Siren myth represents or is an allegory of the destructive folly of giving in to worldly or physical pleasures becomes prominent especially among Christian thinkers. Jeremiah 50:39 is part of a prophecy describing Babylon’s bleak future: “Therefore wild beasts shall dwell with hyenas in Babylon, and ostriches shall dwell in her; she shall be peopled no more forever, nor inhabited for all generations” (RSV). The Hebrew for “ostriches” is ‫—ְּבנ ֹות ַיֲע ָנה‬literally ‘daughters of ostrich.’ (My thanks to Jason Rheins for explaining the Hebrew text.) In the Septuagint rendering of this verse (LXX 27:39), however, these Hebrew words are rendered θυγατέρες σειρήνων (‘daughters of Sirens’). St. Ambrose, in his De fide ad Gratianum Augustum, explains (and defends) this translation as follows (3.1.4): “Jeremiah also has prophesied concerning Babylon, that the daughters of sirens shall dwell therein, in order to show that the snares of Babylon, that is, of the tumult of this world, are to be likened to stories of old-time lust (vetustis lasciviae fabulis conparandas), that seemed upon this life’s rocky shores to sing some tuneful song, but deadly withal, to catch the souls of youth— which the Greek poet himself tells us that the wise man escaped through being bound, as it were, in the chains of his own prudence” (H. de Romestin et al. trans.). Contrast this approach with that of another Christian, Isidore of Seville (seventh 30

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 8/12/2018, SPi

Aristotle’s Naturalistic Interpretation of Odyssey 12

177

Did Aristotle discuss the origin of the Siren myth, the nature of the Homeric Sirens, and/or what if anything they were supposed to represent? One can merely say: it is possible. However, I cannot say what problem he might have been trying to solve, only that if some critic had objected that such beings do not exist, he would of course have replied that that does not matter—as long as they fulfill some esthetic function, and because people did believe such things.

10.2. THE AMBROSIA-BEARING DOVES Circe, impressing on Odysseus the impossibility of a ship passing the rocks called Planctae (Wanderers), upon which powerful waves crash, tells him (Od. 12.61–5): The blessed gods call these [sc. rocks] Wanderers. By this [route] no winged thing goes past not even the timid doves [πέλειαι τρήρωνες], which carry ambrosia to father Zeus, but also the slick rock every time even takes away [one] of these; yet the father puts in another to increase the number.32

The identity of these πέλειαι (normally translated ‘doves’) was a subject of debate in antiquity, as is clear for instance in schol. D Od. 12.63b, which sets out two basic approaches (interpreting μυθικῶς and φυσικῶς) taken by ancient scholars:

century), who explains the origin of the mythical Sirens as follows (Etymologies 2.11.3.31): “In truth, however, they were harlots, who, because they would seduce passers-by into destitution, were imagined as bringing shipwreck upon them. They were said to have had wings and talons because sexual desire both flies and wounds. They are said to have lived among the waves because the waves gave birth to Venus” (Barney et al. trans.). For more on Christian interpretations of the Sirens, see Pépin (1982, 9–14) and Pontani (2005b, 228 n. 196). 32

Πλαγκτὰς δή τοι τάς (sc. πέτρας) γε θεοὶ μάκαρες καλέουσι. τῇ μέν τ’ οὐδὲ ποτητὰ παρέρχεται οὐδὲ πέλειαι τρήρωνες, ταί τ’ ἀμβροσίην Διὶ πατρὶ φέρουσιν, ἀλλά τε καὶ τῶν αἰὲν ἀφαιρεῖται λὶς πέτρη· ἀλλ’ ἄλλην ἐνίησι πατὴρ ἐναρίθμιον εἶναι.

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 8/12/2018, SPi

178

Aristotle’s Lost Homeric Problems

Either he claims mythically (μυθικῶς) that the pigeons flying through the Wandering Rocks take ambrosia to Zeus, or he said this scientifically33 (φυσικῶς): for when far from the Wanderers comes the star called Taurus, then of the seven stars, which are called the Pleiades and are situated together by its tail, one is obscured out of the rising of the smoke.34 And they carry nourishment—sea water—to the Sun, which indeed Plato in Phaedrus named Zeus: “Now the great in heaven, Zeus, drives a winged chariot.”35

Note that ἡ πέλεια (plural πέλειαι) is the standard word for ‘dove.’ An alternative form is ἡ πελειάς (plural πελειάδες). The idea that Homer’s πέλειαι were in fact the group of stars called ‘Pleiades’ is based on (or given some plausibility by) the similarity between Πλειάδες and the common plural πελειάδες (which differ by one letter). Frisk (1970, 555) calls this Volksetymologie. According to this scholiast (or his source), to take the πέλειαι “which carry ambrosia to father Zeus” to be birds (like pigeons) is in effect to interpret Homer and the passage mythically or fictionally (μυθικῶς): That is, Homer is on this view here describing birds carrying ambrosia to Zeus. But to take πέλειαι to be another name for the Pleiades is to interpret Homer and the passage scientifically or in the manner of one describing nature (φυσικῶς): Homer is on this view here describing an astronomical phenomenon, the rising of the Pleiades, which in some unspecified way carries ambrosia to Zeus—perhaps representing vapor rising up from the sea owing to

Or ‘in the manner of a natural scientist’ vel sim. My translation of τοῦ καπνοῦ (in this ambiguous line) is straightforward. But note that Aristotle held (see esp. Mete. 1.4) that there are two kinds of exhalations, dry and wet. The former he says is smoke-like and rises high, whereas the wet one tends to sink back to Earth. Wilson (2013, ch. 6) labels the uppermost region of the realm of meteora ‘Kapnosphere,’ which region he argues is quasi-celestial. It is the location of such meteorological phenomena (according to Aristotle and other ancients) as shooting stars, comets, and the Milky Way. The reference to καπνός in schol. D Od. 12.63b may have some connection to Aristotle’s meteorology, about which I have a bit more to say shortly. 35 ἤτοι μυθικῶς φησι τὰς περιστερὰς διὰ τῶν Πλαγκτῶν πετομένας ἀποκομίζειν Διὶ ἀμβροσίαν, ἢ φυσικῶς τοῦτο εἴρηκεν· ὅταν γὰρ ἕκαθεν τῶν Πλαγκτῶν γένηται τὸ ἄστρον ὁ λεγόμενος Ταῦρος, τότε συμβαίνει τῶν ἐπὶ τῆς οὐρᾶς αὐτοῦ κειμένων ἑπτὰ ἀστέρων, οἳ Πλειάδες λέγονται, ἕνα ἀμαυροῦσθαι ἐκ τῆς ἀναφορᾶς τοῦ καπνοῦ. φέρουσι δὲ τροφὴν ὕδωρ θαλάσσιον ἡλίῳ, ὃν καὶ Πλάτων ἐν Φαίδρῳ Δία προσηγόρευσεν· “ὁ μὲν δὴ μέγας ⟨ἡγεμὼν⟩ ἐν οὐρανῷ Ζεὺς πτηνὸν ἅρμα ἐλαύνει.” (Cf. Phaedrus 246e4–5: ὁ μὲν δὴ μέγας ἡγεμὼν ἐν οὐρανῷ Ζεύς, ἐλαύνων πτηνὸν ἅρμα κτλ.) 33 34

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 8/12/2018, SPi

Aristotle’s Naturalistic Interpretation of Odyssey 12

179

the heat of the sun. As we shall see, however, not every scholar who took the πέλειαι to refer to birds interpreted the passage μυθικῶς rather than φυσικῶς. There is evidence that Aristotle took part in this debate, or at least discussed this Od. 12 passage. Photius’ (ninth century AD) Bibliotheca codex 190 is a summary of the New History of Ptolemy, son of Hephaestion, also known as Ptolemy Chennus36 (first half of the second century AD), “a work in six books, intended for erudition.”37 Though Photius commends the utility of the New History, for allowing the reader to get acquainted in a short time with a number of works that it would be difficult to locate and a lot of time to read, he also describes its flaws: “It contains much that is monstrous and ill-conceived; and what is more absurd, is that even for certain trivial stories it strives to explain the reason for which they exist.”38 And it does nothing to increase one’s confidence in Ptolemy’s New History as a source to read that Photius regards him as “somewhat empty and inclined to pretentiousness.”39 Nevertheless, there is a brief passage in codex

36 On Ptolemy Chennus (‘Quail’), see Chatzís (1914), Tomberg (1968), and Cameron (2004, 134–59). There has been a fair amount of scholarly discussion about when, if ever, one may safely regard Ptolemy as a reliable source for information about works that are no longer extant. Tomberg (1968) is a cautious attempt to rehabilitate him. Nigel Wilson (1971, 135), in a review of Tomberg, writes: “Photius tells us which book each story comes from and so makes it plain enough that the author’s guiding principle was variety, ποικιλία. Ptolemy has often been accused of conscious fabrication of mythological and other facts, but Tomberg shows beyond much doubt that he was at pains to cite his authorities, whose existence is not open to suspicion. What is true is that he used very unreliable authors.” Perhaps the most skeptical of recent scholars is Cameron, who for example asks (2004, 155): “who can honestly say that he finds nothing suspicious about a single one of Ptolemy’s source citations?” 37 Opening of codex 190 (p. 146a–b Bekker): Ἀνεγνώσθη Πτολεμαίου τοῦ Ἡφαιστίωνος περὶ τῆς εἰς πολυμαθίαν Καινῆς Ἱστορίας λόγοι ϛ´. Note that he in fact goes on to describe the content of seven books (presumably the result of a confusion between ζ and ϛ in minuscule). 38 Ἔχει δὲ πολλὰ καὶ τερατώδη καὶ κακόπλαστα, καὶ τὸ ἀλογώτερον, ὅτι καὶ ἐνίων μυθαρίων αἰτίας, δι’ ἃς ὑπέστησαν, ἀποδιδόναι πειρᾶται. Re. τερατώδη (‘monstrous’): LSJ s.v. τερατώδης has portentous, prodigious, and monstrous; BDAG s.v. adds extraordinary and contrary to nature. In Aristotle’s Poetics, τὸ τερατῶδες refers to gratuitous horror, which is used by tragedians who rely on spectacle rather than plot (14.1453b9). 39 ὑπόκενός τέ ἐστι καὶ πρὸς ἀλαζονείαν ἐπτοημένος.

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 8/12/2018, SPi

180

Aristotle’s Lost Homeric Problems

190 that is relevant to the present inquiry, and so ought to be given some attention: Why40 the poet made doves servants of the nourishment of the gods, and what King Alexander and Aristotle said about this, concerning Homer and doves.41 (147a.3–6)

One could follow Heitz (1869, 147; fr. 205) and punctuate this as a question, in which case Photius is saying that Ptolemy’s New History raised (and provided answers to) the questions “Why did Homer make doves servants of the nourishment of the gods?” (note that this has the form of an Aristotelian problêma) and “What did King Alexander and Aristotle say about this, and about Homer and doves?” Or one could take this as a terse description: In this work Ptolemy discussed why Homer made doves such servants of the gods, and what Alexander and Aristotle said about this and about doves in Homer generally. I suspect Photius added καὶ περὶ Ὁμήρου καὶ πελειάδων to indicate that Ptolemy’s New History contained a discussion of doves in Homer generally—that is, beyond their place in Od. 12.61–5—as is found in Athenaeus and Eustathius as well (which discussions I turn to now). Athenaeus 11.487F–494B is a lengthy discussion of Nestor’s cup (see Il. 11.628–41), taken more or less directly from Asclepiades of Myrlea’s work On Nestor’s Cup (fr. 4 Pagani).42 Much of this long passage (489E–492D) is devoted to demonstrating that the πελειάδες in Homer in fact refer to the Pleiades (Πλειάδες). (This is discussed here, as two golden πελειάδες are pictured on Nestor’s cup; see Il. 11.634–5.) Athenaeus does not mention Aristotle on the ambrosiabearing doves; but it is nevertheless worth presenting an overview of this passage, as it provides much of the context necessary for understanding the ancient debate, and it connects the above Photius passage to related material in Eustathius, which does mention Aristotle.43

40 This is Photius’ terse style of summarization. We should assume, prior to this ‘Why’ (διὰ τί), an implicit “Ptolemy’s New History explains (or answers the question) . . . ” See Henry (1962, 51). 41 διὰ τί ὁ ποιητὴς πελειάδας ἐποίησε τῆς τροφῆς τῶν θεῶν διακόνους, καὶ τίνα Ἀλέξανδρος ὁ βασιλεὺς καὶ Ἀριστοτέλης εἰς τοῦτο εἶπον καὶ περὶ Ὁμήρου καὶ πελειάδων. 42 On the Iliad 11 passage, see Hainsworth (1993, 292–3); on Asclepiades’ On Nestor’s Cup, see the lengthy commentary on fr. 4 in Pagani (2007, 149–89—especially, in the present context, pp. 162–6 and 174–9). 43 That there is a clear connection between Athen. 11.489E–492D and Eustathius, see the apparatus of parallel passages in Pagani (2007, 97–105).

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 8/12/2018, SPi

Aristotle’s Naturalistic Interpretation of Odyssey 12

181

Athenaeus says they are in fact stars, and not the birds known as περιστερά (‘pigeons’), as some claim—and he refers for support to the History of Animals, where Aristotle distinguishes pigeons and doves (5.13.544b1–2). He then turns for further support to Od. 12.61–3 (which he quotes), and he says that here too (that is, as in the case of the cup of Nestor, which is of course for drinking), Homer associates the Pleiades with nourishment. He adds: “For one ought not to think that the birds [known as] peleiades bring Zeus his ambrosia, as many believe—for it is undignified—but that the Pleiades do”44 (490B). There are, Athenaeus says, two reasons many go wrong about this: (1) they are misled by the poetic form of the word (for the constellation), which involves the addition of one letter (Πελειάδες rather than Πλειάδες); and (2) they think the epithet τρήρωνες (‘timid’) fits doves but not the Pleiades. He replies in chiastic order: (2´) this epithet fits the Pleiades as well, as the traditional story has them fleeing Orion; and (1´) Πλειάδες, Πέλειαι, and Πελειάδες are all variously used by poets for the constellation. In the course of making these replies, Athenaeus reports that the first person to interpret these verses accurately was Moero of Byzantium (a third-century BC poetess). Then he lists and quotes from a number of others who use ‘Peleiades’ (or ‘Peleiai’) for the constellation and not to refer to birds: Simonides, Pindar, Aeschylus, Simmias, Posidippus, Lamprocles, and the author of the Astronomy attributed to Hesiod. He then returns to Nestor’s cup (which discussion I pass over), before offering an interpretation of the difficult pair of verses with which our Od. 12 passage ends (64–5), based on his view that Homer is here referring to the Pleiades: but also the slick rock every time even takes away [one] of these; yet the father puts in another to increase the number.

Athenaeus claims that Homer is referring poetically (ποιητικῶς) to the fact that although there are seven Pleiades, only six are visible (when they first rise?). Eustathius devotes a fair amount of space to ambrosia-bearing doves (Od. 12.62–5 (2.10.6–11.32)).45 At one point (10.35) he writes:

44 οὐ γὰρ τὰς πελειάδας τὰς ὄρνεις φέρειν νομιστέον, τῷ Διὶ τὴν ἀμβροσίαν, ὡς οἱ πολλοὶ δοξάζουσιν—ἄσεμνον γάρ—ἀλλὰ τὰς Πλειάδας. 45 The text of Eustathius that follows, on the ambrosia-bearing doves, is from Chatzís (1914, 13–15), which prints the text parallel to the relevant Photius passage which was presented earlier.

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 8/12/2018, SPi

182

Aristotle’s Lost Homeric Problems

“The ancients treated the issues in this passage in this way” (οἱ δὲ παλαιοὶ οὕτω τὰ τοῦ λόγου θεραπεύουσι). In Eustathius, οἱ παλαιοί normally or primarily refers to the scholia; but in this case, I think it clear that the reference includes Athenaeus and Ptolemy son of Hephaestion as well.46 He continues (10.35–8): They say that when Alexander the Macedonian asked what was intended by the poet in saying the doves convey ambrosia to Zeus and one of these doves is removed, Chiron of Amphipolis replied that the passage is about the Pleiades.47

Eustathius next presents the views of many others who also defended this interpretation: Athenaeus, Moero of Byzantium, Simonides, Pindar, Aeschylus, Lamprocles, Euripides, and Theocritus. He concludes his presentation of this interpretation (11.8–9): “But so much for Chiron of Amphipolis” (ἀλλ’ οὕτω μὲν ὁ Ἀμφιπολίτης Χείρων). The μέν in this line is answered by the δέ in the next, which presents the views of Aristotle and others, who interpret the passage differently (according to Eustathius, ἀλληγορικῶς—at least in the case of Aristotle) (11.9–11): They claim that Aristotle, however, allegorically said Homer makes clear that the gods, i.e. the upper bodies,48 are nourished out of an exhalation, including an air-traveling animal as an indication of such nourishment. And something being removed by the rock he said makes clear that even the earth draws from such an exhalation.49

The claim seems to be that Aristotle did not take Od. 12.61–5 to be about the Pleiades, as Chiron and others thought, but to refer to doves. But the doves bearing nourishment to the gods is not interpreted mythically by Aristotle, but (‘they say’) allegorically: it is 46 See Hercher (1855, 269–72), Rose (1863, 173–4), Heitz (1869, 147–8), and Janko (2011, 327–9). Hercher argues specifically: “Dasz übrigens Eustathius nicht die Neue Geschichte selbst, sondern nur Auszüge aus ihr zur Benutzung vor sich hatte.” 47 Χείρων ὁ Ἀμφιπολίτης Ἀλεξάνδρου τοῦ Μακεδόνος ἐρωτήσαντός φασι, τί βούλεται παρὰ τῷ ποιητῇ τὸ τὰς περιστερὰς εἰπεῖν κομίζειν ἀμβροσίαν τῷ Διῒ, καὶ τὸ ἀφαιρεῖσθαί τι αὐτὰς [τὰς πέτρας pro αὐτὰς Rose] καὶ τῶν πελειῶν, περὶ τῶν πλειάδων εἶναι τὸν λόγον ἔφη. 48 I take the ἤτοι in τοὺς θεοὺς ἤτοι τὰ ἄνω σώματα to mean ‘or’ in the sense of ‘that is.’ 49 Ἀριστοτέλης δέ, φασιν, ἀλληγορικῶς εἶπε δηλοῦν Ὅμηρον ἐξ ἀναθυμιάσεως τρέφεσθαι τοὺς θεοὺς ἤτοι τὰ ἄνω σώματα, ἀεροπόρον ζῷον παραλαβόντα εἰς ἔνδειξιν τῆς τοιαύτης τροφῆς. τὸ δὲ ἀφαιρεῖσθαί τι ὑπὸ τῆς πέτρας δηλοῦν ἔφη ὡς καὶ ἡ γῆ ἕλκει ἐκ τῆς τοιαύτης ἀναθυμιάσεως.

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 8/12/2018, SPi

Aristotle’s Naturalistic Interpretation of Odyssey 12

183

Homer’s representation of the fact that exhalations ascend to the upper bodies, though some fall back down to the earth. So on this view, Aristotle is doing what other allegorizing Homeric scholars (e.g. Heraclitus the Allegorist) did, namely, find in Homer his own scientific theories. It is true that two kinds of exhalations (dry and wet) are of capital importance in Aristotle’s Meteorology. But according to Aristotle, they are relevant in explaining only meteorological phenomena, which occur in the sublunary world—that is, they never reach the upper bodies (the sun, moon, planets, the ether), though the dry exhalations might get close.50 So even if Aristotle were to have found in Homer something akin to his own physical theories, what Eustathius presents cannot be an accurate account. But perhaps the problem is not Eustathius as much as his source. As Nigel Wilson writes (1983, 199): “While he [sc. Eustathius] is generally capable of choosing good sources, one cannot give him much credit for his willingness to draw on the mass of bizarre and inaccurate information put together by Ptolemy Chennos.” Eustathius next presents the interpretation of King Alexander— presumably his response to Chiron’s reply to his question—in contrast to Aristotle’s view (11.11–13): But King Alexander, by considering the gods philosophical and more powerful than pleasure,51 says the poet assigned their nourishment to the weakest and most delicate animal, by which it could be conveyed some short distance.52

So it seems that—in contrast, on the one hand, to the Pleiades reading, which interprets the passage φυσικῶς, and, on the other, to the reading of Aristotle, who supposedly interprets the passage ἀλληγορικῶς—one could say that Alexander the Great interpreted the passage mythically or fictionally (μυθικῶς): Homer really meant 50

See Mete. 1.4 (and passim) and Wilson (2013, chs. 2–3). I take ἡδονῆς μείζους here to mean that the gods are not slaves to food and drink. 52 Ἀλέξανδρος δὲ ὁ βασιλεὺς διὰ τὸ δοκεῖν {φησὶ{ τοὺς θεοὺς φιλοσόφους καὶ ἡδονῆς μείζους, ἀναθεῖναι τὸν ποιητὴν τὴν ἐκείνων τροφὴν τῷ ἀσθενεστάτῳ καὶ τρυφερωτάτῳ ζῴῳ, ὑφ’ οὗ βραχύ τι ἂν παρακομίζοιτο. Chatzís (1914, 14) obelized φησὶ, and I agree that this word is puzzling. I wonder whether φασιν and/or εἶπε from the previous passage (Ἀριστοτέλης δέ φασιν ἀλληγορικῶς εἶπε κτλ.) are meant to be implied here: “But they claim King Alexander said” etc. (Perhaps φησὶ is a corruption of φασι.) 51

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 8/12/2018, SPi

184

Aristotle’s Lost Homeric Problems

to depict doves conveying nourishment to the gods. And this view is plausible, Alexander believed, because on his view the gods are more philosophical and less hedonistic than they are normally considered to be. This at any rate is the most sense I can make of the description. Finally (11.14–16), Eustathius turns to others (ἄλλοι δέ)—he names Plato (and the same Phaedrus passage referred to in schol. D Od. 12.63b, quoted above) and Democritus (68 B 25 DK)—who think that Zeus is or represents the sun and “ambrosia the vapors by which the sun is nourished.”53 Whether this is supposed to be an interpretation φυσικῶς (but one different from that of Chiron et al.) or an interpretation ἀλληγορικῶς (but one different from Aristotle’s) is unclear (and need not concern me). So what are we to make of Photius’ report of King Alexander and Aristotle on doves in Ptolemy’s New History, in combination with the exchange between Chiron of Amphipolis and King Alexander (and presumably Aristotle) in Eustathius? Heitz (1869, 147) takes the source of these texts to be some sort of fictitious dialogue (ficto quodam dialogo), not unlike the second Oration of Dio Chrysostom (“On Kingship”), wherein Philip and his son Alexander discuss Homer on kingship, with Alexander’s tutor Aristotle receiving a couple of mentions. In the present case, Heitz believes, Chiron of Amphipolis is a stand-in for Philip.54 Rose (1863, 173–4), in his presentation of the Eustathius text, inserts in parentheses, after Ἀριστοτέλης: sic Eustathius, licet Stoici cuiusdam nomen exspectaveris potius quam Aristotelis. He took Aristotle to be a mistake, or perhaps a stand-in (in a dialogue?), for an allegorical interpretation (of the Stoic variety) that was not Aristotle’s own.55 I assume this is why Rose did not include the text in his two later collections of the fragments of Aristotle.56 Janko (2011, 327–8) too suggests that Ptolemy’s (and so Eustathius’) source might ultimately have been a dialogue—but one 53 ἄλλοι δὲ Δία μὲν νοοῦσι τὸν Ἥλιον ἀκολούθως Πλάτωνι, ὃς ἐν Φαίδρῳ φησίν· “ὁ μὲν δὴ μέγας ⟨ἡγεμὼν⟩ ἐν οὐρανῷ Ζεὺς,” ὅ ἐστιν Ἥλιος, “πτηνὸν ἅρμα ἐλαύνων”· ἀμβροσίαν δὲ τὰς ἀτμίδας αἷς Ἥλιος τρέφεται, καθὰ δοξάζει καὶ Δημόκριτος. 54 Desumpta haec esse patet non ex eodem fonte, unde reliqua, sed potius e ficto quodam dialogo, qui praesente Philippo inter Chironem, Aristotelem ejusque discipulum Alexandrum instituebatur. Non absimilia sunt quae leguntur apud Dionen Orat. II, in cujus fine, postquam Alexander multa disseruit. 55 Cf. Chatzís (1914, lxxxii). 56 Cf. Lamberton (1992, xiii–xiv n. 21): “There is no doubt that we receive as ‘Aristotelian’ interpretive material from other sources. One of the fragments from Eustathius that Rose rejected—in all probability correctly—attributes to Aristotle a

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 8/12/2018, SPi

Aristotle’s Naturalistic Interpretation of Odyssey 12

185

by Aristotle himself: “This derives from a full text of the lost Καινῆς Ἱστορίας I of the paradoxographer and forger . . . Ptolemy Chennus.57 Although Ptolemy probably invented this discussion, he surely included the sort of participants we might expect to find in an Aristotelian dialogue.” This dialogue, he goes on to speculate, might even have been (one book of) the Homeric Problems. Perhaps. In my view, all we can say with any confidence is that the Aristotle passages in Photius and Eustathius may have been based ultimately on something Aristotle wrote about Od. 12.62–3, and that what he wrote may well have been in response to a Homeric problem, e.g. Why did Homer make doves servants of the nourishment of the gods?58 His answer: Because this reflects certain processes of nature, particularly exhalation. It is unclear, however, how, if at all, such an answer fits into the list of solutions in Poetics 25. But what should we make of Eustathius’ claim that Aristotle interpreted Od. 12.62–3 ἀλληγορικῶς? As his source is Ptolemy, we should perhaps take this with a grain of salt. Moreover, a further (or reinforcing) reason for doubting Eustathius’ description is given in the next section, on the Cattle of the Sun, where he claims that Aristotle engaged in allegorical interpretation, in contrast to two scholia that say he is interpreting the passage φυσικῶς.59 So I conclude that either Eustathius’ concept of allegory is broader than it should be (in my view), or he is mistaken about the nature of Aristotle’s interpretation (or both).60 So despite Eustathius’ report concerning what Aristotle said about the ambrosia-bearing doves of Od. 12, I think it is more likely that he interpreted Od. 12.62–3 not ἀλληγορικῶς but φυσικῶς.

very Stoic-sounding allegory about the nourishment of the gods (= celestial bodies) by ‘exhalations’.” 57 In an earlier work, Janko was less kind to Ptolemy (1991, 57): “This appears to be a joke derived from a full text of the lost Strange History I of the paradoxographer and forger” etc. 58 Given the unreliability of Ptolemy Chennus, there will always be some doubt about this as evidence for Aristotle’s lost work. Cf. Pagani (2007, 179): “Era infine ascritta ad Aristotele da Tolemeo Chenno . . . l’ipotesi che in questi versi le colombe siano attirate a terra a causa dell’esalazione del vapore da esse trasportato come nutrimento agli dèi: tale attribuzione non trova confronti nella tradizione superstite e, anche in considerazione dei dubbi sull’attendibilità della fonte . . . non può che essere gravata da riserve.” 59 Cf. Lamberton, who renders φυσικῶς ‘as physical allegory’ (1992, xiii). 60 It is likely the former. See Cullhed (2016, 25*–33*).

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 8/12/2018, SPi

186

Aristotle’s Lost Homeric Problems

If Aristotle is not engaging in allegorical interpretation, then what is he doing in interpreting Homer scientifically (φυσικῶς)? I think that he is likely indicating what facts about nature (in his view) gave rise to the myths presented in Homeric epic, and that he believed doing so could act as a justification for something Homer presented, and so reasonably answer the question: Why did Homer make doves servants of the nourishment of the gods? Here are three examples from the extant works of Aristotle explaining myths in similar fashion.61 In the first case, he claims that the ancients properly identified that celestial objects are divine—likely meaning eternal and unchanging—however mythical all the rest is (Metaph. Λ.8.1074a38–b10): From the oldest and most ancient times it has been handed down in the form of a myth (ἐν μύθου σχήματι), left to posterity, that these [i.e. celestial objects] are gods and that the divine embraces the whole of nature. The rest was added later mythically (μυθικῶς) with a view to the persuasion of the many and with a view to its legal and beneficial use; for they say that these [gods] are anthropomorphic or like some of the other animals, and other things following these and similar to things we have mentioned. If one were to separate the first [point] and take it alone—that they believed the first beings to be gods—one would think that they spoke divinely.62

Similarly, in his On the Movement of Animals, Aristotle writes: “Those who portray Atlas mythically (μυθικῶς), with his feet on the earth, would seem to have based the myth on intellectual grounds, as he is like a diameter rotating the heavens around the poles”63 (3.699a27–30). (For a possible Homeric connection, see Od. 1.52–4, describing Calypso, the “daughter of all-knowing Atlas, who has seen the depths of the whole sea; he holds the tall pillars, which keep apart

61

See Hintenlang (1961, 134–7) and Bouchard (2016, 50–2). παραδέδοται δὲ παρὰ τῶν ἀρχαίων καὶ παμπαλαίων ἐν μύθου σχήματι καταλελειμμένα τοῖς ὕστερον ὅτι θεοί τέ εἰσιν οὗτοι καὶ περιέχει τὸ θεῖον τὴν ὅλην φύσιν. τὰ δὲ λοιπὰ μυθικῶς ἤδη προσῆκται πρὸς τὴν πειθὼ τῶν πολλῶν καὶ πρὸς τὴν εἰς τοὺς νόμους καὶ τὸ συμφέρον χρῆσιν: ἀνθρωποειδεῖς τε γὰρ τούτους καὶ τῶν ἄλλων ζῴων ὁμοίους τισὶ λέγουσι, καὶ τούτοις ἕτερα ἀκόλουθα καὶ παραπλήσια τοῖς εἰρημένοις, ὧν εἴ τις χωρίσας αὐτὸ λάβοι μόνον τὸ πρῶτον, ὅτι θεοὺς ᾤοντο τὰς πρώτας οὐσίας εἶναι, θείως ἂν εἰρῆσθαι νομίσειεν. 63 οἱ δὲ μυθικῶς τὸν Ἄτλαντα ποιοῦντες ἐπὶ τῆς γῆς ἔχοντα τοὺς πόδας δόξαιεν ἂν ἀπὸ διανοίας εἰρηκέναι τὸν μῦθον, ὡς τοῦτον ὥσπερ διάμετρον ὄντα καὶ στρέφοντα τὸν οὐρανὸν περὶ τοὺς πόλους. 62

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 8/12/2018, SPi

Aristotle’s Naturalistic Interpretation of Odyssey 12

187

earth and heavens.”64) And in Pol. 2.9, discussing what he sees as the lack of moderation in non-military matters or affairs, characteristic of military cultures (he mentions the Spartans and Celts), Aristotle refers to the origin of a myth: “Indeed the one who first made the myth seems not unreasonably to yoke Ares to Aphrodite; for all such [sc. warlike] men seem obsessed with sex with either men or women”65 (1269b23–31). Consider Od. 8.266–366, the scene in which Ares and Aphrodite are caught in flagrante delicto in Hephaestus’ net: I take it Aristotle would claim not that Homer included this as an allegory concerning the (foolish) attraction of the warrior mentality and carnal desire, or the superiority of technical skill and marital devotion over both, but that this is a myth that reflects or has an origin in fact.66 In this connection, I think Janko makes a crucially important distinction, which I accept: Referring to the ambrosia-bearing doves (as well as the Cattle of the Sun, which I discuss in the next section), he writes that “Aristotle is explaining why Homer said what he did, not positing (as do true allegorists like the author of the Derveni papyrus) that Homer is giving an encoded account of reality” (2011, 328 n. 3). A final word on the ambrosia-bearing doves, before turning to the Cattle of the Sun. I think it fairly clear that the two basic interpretive approaches (μυθικῶς and φυσικῶς), mentioned at the outset of this section, are in fact not mutually exclusive (contrary to what the D-scholiast seems to imply). In the case of the ambrosia-bearing doves, I would speculate that Aristotle interpreted the passage μυθικῶς, in that he took Homer to be telling a story that involved mythical or fabulous doves (not stars) conveying ambrosia to the gods, but also φυσικῶς, in that he had an explanation for what (purported) facts about nature may have given rise to Homer’s story. 64

Ἄτλαντος θυγάτηρ ὀλοόφρονος, ὅς τε θαλάσσης πάσης βένθεα οἶδεν, ἔχει δέ τε κίονας αὐτὸς μακράς, αἳ γαῖάν τε καὶ οὐρανὸν ἀμφὶς ἔχουσι. 65 ἔοικε γὰρ ὁ μυθολογήσας πρῶτος οὐκ ἀλόγως συζεῦξαι τὸν Ἄρην πρὸς τὴν Ἀφροδίτην· ἢ γὰρ πρὸς τὴν τῶν ἀρρένων ὁμιλίαν ἢ πρὸς τὴν τῶν γυναικῶν φαίνονται κατοκώχιμοι πάντες οἱ τοιοῦτοι. 66 Recall above, pp. 174–5: If Aristotle did discuss the Sirens in Od. 12, he was likely interested in the origin of that myth as well.

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 8/12/2018, SPi

188

Aristotle’s Lost Homeric Problems 10.3. THE CATTLE OF THE SUN

10.3.1. The Number of the Cattle Circe explains to Odysseus that after passing Scylla and Charybdis, You will come to the island of Thrinakia: And there many cattle of the Sun are feeding, and fat sheep, seven herds of cattle, and as many fine flocks of sheep, fifty each. Offspring are not born of them, nor do they ever die . . . 67 (Od. 12.127–31)

She goes on to warn him that if any harm comes to these animals, Odysseus will lose his ship and his comrades, and his homecoming will be delayed (139–41)—which is of course exactly what happens. Three texts claim that Aristotle commented on the number of cattle:68 1. Schol. V Od. 12.128 = 175.1 Rose/398.2 Gigon To kill a cow used for ploughing was in ancient times despicable. Anyone who did this was punished by humans or gods. This is the very thing the friends of Odysseus did, killing [the cattle]. Aristotle scientifically (φυσικῶς) claims: for [Homer] means the three hundred days of the period [i.e. year] plus the [days] that are left [i.e. fifty].69 67

Θρινακίην δ᾽ ἐς νῆσον ἀφίξεαι· ἔνθα δὲ πολλαὶ βόσκοντ᾽ Ἠελίοιο βόες καὶ ἴφια μῆλα, ἑπτὰ βοῶν ἀγέλαι, τόσα δ᾽ οἰῶν πώεα καλά, πεντήκοντα δ᾽ ἕκαστα. γόνος δ᾽ οὐ γίγνεται αὐτῶν, οὐδέ ποτε φθινύθουσι . . . 68 These three are not as neglected as most of the others I have discussed in this volume: See Hintenlang (1961, 131–5), Lamberton (1992, xiii–xiv), Breitenberger (2006, 422–4), and Bouchard (2016, 66–8). 69 ἀπόβλητον ἦν τοῖς ἀρχαίοις ἀρότην βοῦν κτείνειν. ἔπασχε γὰρ κακῶς ἐξ ἀνθρώπων ἢ θεῶν ὅστις τοῦτο πεποίηκεν. ὅπερ οἱ τοῦ Ὀδυσσέως φίλοι ποιήσαντες ἀπώλοντο. Ἀριστοτέλης φυσικῶς φησίν· λέγει γὰρ τὰς τριακοσίους τοῦ χρόνου ἡμέρας πρὸς ταῖς λοιπαῖς. I have included the entire text. I suspect, however, that something (e.g. a δέ) has dropped out, distinguishing the first half of the scholium (which perhaps was part of an ‘historical’ explanation of the prohibition against killing these animals) from Aristotle’s explanation of the precise number of cattle. (Cf. schol. D Od. 12.129, which is a version of the second part alone: Ἀριστοτέλης φυσικῶς φησίν· λέγει γὰρ τὰς {καθ’{ ἡμέρας τοῦ χρόνου πρὸς ταῖς τριακοσίαις.) It is of course possible that the former scholium presents a condensed version of two parts of Aristotle’s discussion of Od. 12.127–31.

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 8/12/2018, SPi

Aristotle’s Naturalistic Interpretation of Odyssey 12

189

2. Schol. V Od. 12.129=Porph. HQO pp. 111–12 Schrader = fr. 175.2 Rose/398.1 Gigon Aristotle scientifically (φυσικῶς) claims he [sc. Homer] means that the lunar days are 350. For the number fifty multiplied seven times you will discover turns out to be 350.70

3. Eustathius Od. 12.130 (2.18.23–7) = fr. 175.3 Rose/398.3 Gigon It should be known that they claim that Aristotle interprets allegorically (ἀλληγορεῖν) these herds and especially the [herds] of cattle in terms of the days of the twelve lunar months, being fifty plus three hundred, which is indeed the number of the seven herds—each containing fifty animals. This is why Homer says that neither birth nor death comes to them: for the same amount always remains for these days.71

Some scholars follow Eustathius, and take Aristotle to be interpreting Homer allegorically.72 And viewed apart from the context of the rest of his work on Homer, this is the most natural way to take these texts.73 Viewed in the context of everything else we know about 70 Ἀριστοτέλης φυσικῶς τὰς κατὰ σελήνην ἡμέρας αὐτὸν λέγειν φησὶ τν´ οὔσας. τὸν γὰρ πεντήκοντα ἀριθμὸν ἑπταπλασιάσας εἰς τὸν τριακοστὸν πεντηκοστὸν περιεστάναι εὑρήσεις. 71 ἰστέον δὲ ὅτι τὰς ἀγέλας ταύτας καὶ μάλιστα τὰς τῶν βοῶν φασὶ τὸν Ἀριστοτέλην ἀλληγορεῖν εἰς τὰς κατὰ δωδεκάδα τῶν σεληνιακῶν μηνῶν ἡμέρας γινομένας πεντήκοντα πρὸς ταῖς τριακοσίαις, ὅσος καὶ ὁ ἀριθμὸς ταῖς ἑπτὰ ἀγέλαις ἐχούσαις ἀνὰ πεντήκοντα ζῷα. διὸ οὔτε γόνον αὐτῶν γίνεσθαι Ὅμηρος λέγει οὔτε φθοράν· τὸ γὰρ αὐτὸ ποσὸν ἀεὶ ταῖς τοιαύταις ἡμέραις μένει. 72 See the following note for some instances. Although Lamberton does not regard this as evidence of allegory in Aristotle, he has written that Aristotelian Homeric problems range “from problems about the meaning of odd, Homeric words to broadly allegorical readings” (1997, 52). Janko (1998) replied: “Aristotle was important for his avoidance of ‘allegorical’ readings, and never offers any (the sole instance L. can be thinking of is Aristotle’s observation that the Cattle of the Sun are equal in number to the days in a lunar year, where I think Aristotle is right, not allegorizing).” I comment below on the extent to which Aristotle is right. But for now note that Lamberton had earlier said the following about these Cattle of the Sun texts attributed to Aristotle (1992, xiii–xiv): “This sounds more like the author of the pseudo-Aristotelian treatise ‘On the cosmos’ than the authentic Aristotle (though this particular bit of lore is not to be found in that work). But even if this egregious bit of physical allegory with its strongly Stoic flavor might be an intrusion into the fragmented corpus of Aristotelian readings of Homer,” there are, he claims, other examples of Aristotle interpreting Homer allegorically (see above, note 2). 73 I agree with Bouchard (2016, 66): “Ce fragment, s’il est bien attribuable à Aristote, constitue certainement le témoignage le plus sérieux en faveur de l’idée d’une adhésion aristotélicienne à l’interprétation allégorique de la poésie homérique.” (She gives two examples of scholars attributing allegorical readings to Aristotle:

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 8/12/2018, SPi

190

Aristotle’s Lost Homeric Problems

Aristotle’s interpretation of Homer, however, we should have serious doubts about his having interpreted Od. 12.127–31 allegorically. In fact, I think it much more likely that Eustathius has once again transmogrified Aristotle’s scientific or naturalistic interpretation of Homer into allegory (or applied a too broad conception of allegory to Aristotle’s interpretation of Homer). As in the case of the ambrosia-bearing doves, it is probable that Aristotle was here rather describing what purported facts gave rise to one aspect of this myth: the number of cattle. Given that these cattle belong to the Sun, and that Homer writes that their numbers remain the same and that they never die (unless killed by humans, presumably),74 it is natural to look for their origin in astronomical phenomena. Now Aristotle was aware that the actual number of days in a lunar year was 354. See the Athenian Constitution 43.2 (by Aristotle or one of his colleagues in the Lyceum), which claims that for each of the ten Athenian tribe’s members in the prytany, four serve for 36 days, six for 35 days (436=144, 635=210, totaling 354). “For they observe the lunar year” (κατὰ σελήνην γὰρ ἄγουσιν τὸν ἐνιαυτόν).75 But he likely concluded that 350 was close enough to posit a connection. Unfortunately, what else he said about the Cattle of the Sun, and what sort of interpretive problem he might have been solving (if that is what he was doing), is impossible to say. Perhaps the Homeric question was: Why is the number of cattle 350? Or perhaps he said what he did about the number of cattle as an aside in answering another problem—possibly the one I turn to now.

Cucchiarelli (1997, 225–6) and Most (2010, 26 n. 1). I would add Hintenlang (1961, 133): “Die physikalische, allegorische Ausdeutung der Rinder des Helios . . . ”) 74 Recall: “Offspring are not born of them, | nor do they ever die” (γόνος δ᾽ οὐ γίγνεται αὐτῶν, | οὐδέ ποτε φθινύθουσι) (Od. 12.130–1). Perhaps, like the ambrosiabearing doves, if they are killed, they are replaced to maintain the size of the herds. 75 I owe this reference to Bouchard (2016, 67 n. 78.) For discussion of Ath.Pol. 43.2, see Rhodes (1981, 518–20). Bouchard comments (2016, 67): “Pourtant, si Aristote a bel et bien raison à ce sujet, ce n’est pas tant parce qu’il associe le nombre des animaux au nombre réel des jours de l’année lunaire que parce qu’il établit ce lien en se fondant sur le contexte historique qu’il prête au poète. En effet, à l’époque d’Aristote le calendrier de l’année lunaire compte 354 jours, et non 350. Quoi qu’il en soit de l’authenticité du fragment, ce dernier constituerait un témoignage unique, et encore fragile, de l’usage d’une approche allégorique par Aristote.”

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 8/12/2018, SPi

Aristotle’s Naturalistic Interpretation of Odyssey 12

191

10.3.2. The Sun’s Omniscience Later in Od. 12—after the event described above—Odysseus recalls (374–5): Swift to Hyperion Sun came a messenger, Lampetia of the long robe, [reporting] that [Odysseus’] companions had killed his cattle.76

But in Iliad 3, as part of the oath Agamemnon swears, to a number of deities, to abide by the result of the duel between Paris and Menelaus, if Paris should win, he includes the Sun: “And O Sun, you who behold all things and hear all things”77 (277). Ancient scholars worried that such omniscience obviated the need for a messenger, thus creating a contradiction. Aristotle recommended three possible ways of solving this problem (schol. B* Iliad 3.277 = Porph. HQO pp. 113–14 Schrader = fr. 149 Rose/373 Gigon):78 Why, having said that the Sun beholds all things and hears all things, did [Homer] portray him needing a messenger in the case of his own cattle: “Swift to Hyperion Sun came a messenger, Lampetia of the long robe, [reporting] that [Odysseus’] companions killed his cattle”? Aristotle solves [this problem], saying: (1) either it is because the Sun does see all things but not at the same time, or (2) because Lampetia was delivering a message for the Sun just as sight does to a human; or (3) because, he says, it was fitting to speak in this way with respect to Agamemnon when administering an oath in single combat—“and O Sun, you behold all things and hear all things”—and with respect to

76

ὠκέα δ’ Ἠελίῳ Ὑπερίονι ἄγγελος ἦλθε Λαμπετίη τανύπεπλος, ὅ οἱ βόας ἔκταν ἑταῖροι. Most manuscripts have ἔκταν ἑταῖροι (printed in van Thiel); some manuscripts and Aristarchus read ἔκταμεν ἡμεῖς (which has been accepted by most modern editors, e.g. in von der Mühll). In any case, Aristotle read ἔκταν ἑταῖροι: see below, note 79. 77 Ἠέλιός θ᾽, ὃς πάντ᾽ ἐφορᾷς καὶ πάντ᾽ ἐπακούεις . . . 78 For previous discussion of this text, see Sodano (1966, 216–18), Hintenlang (1961, 84–9), Breitenberger (2006, 386–8), and Bouchard (2016, 62–5). In what follows, I am interested in this text only for what it might tell us about Aristotle and allegorical interpretation. I hope to write further about this fascinating scholium (and related texts) in more detail at some other time.

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 8/12/2018, SPi

192

Aristotle’s Lost Homeric Problems

Odysseus when speaking to his companions; for [the Sun] surely does not also see the things in Hades.79

The first and third solutions are not relevant here, in that they cannot in any sense be construed as allegorical interpretations.80 For they seek to solve the problem (to eliminate the apparent contradiction) by clarifying an ambiguity (1) and by considering what is said in context (3)—as we have seen, both standard Aristotelian strategies for solving Homeric problems.81 Only the second solution (“Lampetia was delivering a message to the Sun just as sight was to a human”) might suggest an allegorical interpretation—again, out of context. In the context of everything else we know about Aristotle’s interpretation of Homer, this is highly unlikely. It is different from the other passages we have considered in this chapter, in that Aristotle is not, I think, discussing a fact of reality (that sight provides information to humans) that gave rise to a myth (that Lampetia delivers messages to the Sun). This solution is usually (and plausibly) taken to be an instance of solving a problem via metaphor, and specifically metaphor by analogy.82 If so, it is quite different from the other examples of Homeric metaphor by analogy that Aristotle provides in Rhetoric 3.11. (Recall from chapter 5, διὰ τί τὸν ἥλιον πάντα ἐφορᾶν καὶ πάντα ἐπακούειν εἰπών, ἐπὶ τῶν ἑαυτοῦ βοῶν ἀγγέλου δεόμενον ἐποίησεν “ὠκέα δ’ Ἠελίῳ ὑπερίονι ἄγγελος ἦλθε Λαμπετίη τανύπεπλος, ὅ οἱ βόας ἔκταν ἑταῖροι”. λύων δ’ Ἀριστοτέλης φησίν, ἤτοι ὅτι πάντα μὲν ὁρᾷ ἥλιος ἀλλ’ οὐχὶ ἅμα, ἢ ὅτι τῷ ἡλίῳ ἦν τὸ ἐξαγγεῖλαν ἡ Λαμπετία ὥσπερ τῷ ἀνθρώπῳ ἡ ὄψις· ἢ ὅτι, φησίν, ἁρμόττον ἦν εἰπεῖν οὕτως τόν τε Ἀγαμέμνονα ὁρκίζοντα ἐν τῇ μονομαχίᾳ “ Ἠέλιός θ’ ὃς πάντ’ ἐφορᾷς καὶ πάντ’ ἐπακούεις” καὶ τὸν Ὀδυσσέα πρὸς τοὺς ἑταίρους λέγοντα· οὐ γὰρ δὴ καὶ τὰ ἐν ᾅδου ὁρᾷ. Rose ends his presentation of this fragment here, though Gigon goes on to include the rest of the scholium. I agree with Gigon that the entire text ought to be included, though I need not do so here, given my narrow focus on purported evidence of allegorical interpretation. It is not entirely clear what the connection is between the γάρ-clause, on Hades, and the line that precedes it. This explains why Schrader marks a lacuna after λέγοντα. Cf. Hintenlang (1961, 85–6). Again, I need not concern myself with this here. 80 Bouchard (2016, 63): “Il y donc trois solution aristotéliciennes à ce problème, dont deux ont un caractère tout à fait prosaïque.” 81 These are arguably instances of what I have labeled solutions nos. 10 and 12 (see chapter 1, section 2 (pp. 19–22)). 82 Bouchard (2016, 64): “Seule la comparaison établie entre Lampétie et la vision humaine se rapproche d’une interprétation allégorique. À strictement parler, il s’agit d’une métaphore obtenue par analogie telle que la définit Aristote.” (At this point she quotes Poet. 21.1457b6–18.) See chapter 1, section 2 (pp. 17–18), on solution no. 7b. Bouchard’s conception of the analogy involved here (see especially (2016, 65)) is more complex than on my interpretation. 79

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 8/12/2018, SPi

Aristotle’s Naturalistic Interpretation of Odyssey 12

193

section 2.3: “Then once again the shameless stone rolled to the ground below” (Od. 11.598).) As discussed there (pp. 101–2), analogies usually have the form A is to B as C is to D: So if this was meant to be a metaphor, I take it Aristotle is saying: Lampetia (her name means ‘the shining one’ or ‘illumination’) delivering a message (A) is to the Sun (B) what sight or visual perception (C) is to a human (D). In any case, I think it likely that what Aristotle is claiming is this: Seeing in humans requires a (virtually instantaneous) interaction between the faculty of sight and what is seen, and this in no way undercuts or contradicts the fact that a human sees (and knows) what it sees. In the same way, the Sun seeing all requires a (swift) interaction between the Sun and what he sees (Lampetia swiftly delivering a message); and here too, this in no way undercuts or contradicts the fact that the Sun sees (and knows) what it sees—which is all things (in some sense— perhaps only where he is present, as in the first solution). The second solution to this problem, then, is that far from there being a contradiction, the Iliad passage and the Odyssey passage in effect say the same thing: the former says that the Sun sees all things; the latter says that Lampetia delivers messages to the Sun, which is the means by which the Sun sees all things. In the debate over whether Aristotle engaged in allegorical interpretation, scholars are, I am afraid, in some cases (e.g. this last one) talking past one another. For instance, Lamberton (1992, xiv–xv), in his survey of what he takes to be allegory in Aristotle, turns to the present text: “The final Aristotelian allegory is of particular interest, because it turns on a matter of theology, precisely the area in which allegorical reading of the revered archaic poems had the richest future before it.” He presents and discusses the second solution, and then adds: “this striking claim—that the nymphs who serve Helios are to be read as metaphors for whatever quality it is (analogous to one of our senses) that allows that deity universal perception—is a treatment of that theology that looks forward to developments associated with later Platonism.” If any metaphor involving the gods simply is allegory, then of course Aristotle here may well be providing (or entertaining the possibility of) an allegorical interpretation. But I submit that Aristotle would not have considered things in this way. Further, to interpret Aristotle in this manner is to obscure rather than clarify the essential nature of what it is that Aristotle is doing in his Homeric Problems, namely: defending Homer (where possible) according to rational principles of literary criticism, but without relying on allegorical interpretation.

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 8/12/2018, SPi

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 8/12/2018, SPi

References Adamson, P. 2014. Classical Philosophy: A History of Philosophy without Any Gaps, vol. 1. Oxford. Allen, T. W. 1900. “New Homeric Papyri.” Classical Review 14.1: 14–18. Ammendola, G. 1907. I Problemi Omerici di Aristotele. Dissertation, University of Naples. Anghelina, C. 2014. “Eumaios’ Knowledge of the Scar.” Greek, Roman, and Byzantine Studies 54: 146–56. Apfel, H. 1938. “Homeric Criticism in the Fourth Century BC.” Transactions and Proceedings of the American Philological Association 69: 245–58. Arnott, W. 2003. “Peripatetic Eagles: A New Look at Aristotle, Historia Animalium 8(9).32, 618b18–619a14.” In A. F. Basson and W. J. Domink, eds., Literature, Art, History: Studies on Classical Antiquity and Tradition in Honour of W. J. Henderson, 225–34. Frankfurt. Arnott, W. 2007. Birds in the Ancient World from A to Z. New York. Baldi, D. 2014. “Sub voce ἘΤΥΜΟΛΟΓΙΑ.” Revue D’Histoire des Textes 9: 359–74. Balme, D. 1991. Aristotle: History of Animals: Books VII–X, prepared for publication by A. Gotthelf. Cambridge, MA. Balme, D. 2002. Aristotle: Historia Animalium, vol. 1: Books I–X: Text, prepared for publication by A. Gotthelf. Cambridge. Beavis, I. 1988. Insects and Other Invertebrates in Classical Antiquity. Exeter. Beekes, R. 2010. Etymological Dictionary of Greek, 2 vols. Leiden. Bekker, I. 1814. Anecdota Graeca, vol. 1: Lexica Segueriana. Berlin. Bekker, I. 1833. Apollonii Sophistae lexicon Homericum. Berlin. Berger, F. 2012. “Die Textgeschichte der Historia Animalium des Aristoteles, Aristophanes von Byzanz und die zoologische Sylloge des Konstantinos Porphyrogennetos.” Rursus 7 (online). Bernardakis, G. 1895. Plutarchi Chaeronensis Moralia, vol. 6. Leipzig. Bernays, J. 1863. Die Dialoge des Aristoteles in ihrem Verhältniss zu seinen übrigen Werken. Berlin. Betegh, G. 2004. The Derveni Papyrus: Cosmology, Theology and Interpretation. Cambridge. Bettini, M., and L. Spina. 2010. Le mythe des Sirènes. Paris. Beullens, P., and A. Gotthelf. 2007. “Theodore Gaza’s Translation of Aristotle’s De Animalibus: Content, Influence, and Date.” Greek, Roman, and Byzantine Studies 47: 469–513.

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 8/12/2018, SPi

196

References

Bobokhyan, A. 2009. “Trading Implements in Early Troy: In Memoriam Professor Manfred Korfmann.” Anatolian Studies 59: 19–50. Bouchard, E. 2010. “The Meaning of βλαβερόν in the Poetics.” Greek, Roman, and Byzantine Studies 50: 309–36. Bouchard, E. 2016. Du Lycée au Musée: théorie poétique et critique littéraire à l’époque hellénistique. Paris. Bouchard, E. 2018. “The Problem with the Prince: Agamemnon in the Ancient Exegetical Tradition on Homer.” In J. Klooster and B. van den Berg, eds., Homer and the Good Ruler in Antiquity and Beyond: From Princes’ Mirror to Parody, 104–22. Leiden. Breitenberger, B. 2006. “Aporemata Homerica.” In H. Flashar et al. eds., Aristoteles: Fragmente zu Philosophie, Rhetorik, Poetik, Dichtung, 305–21, 369–430. Berlin. Buffière, F. 1973. Les mythes d’Homère et la pensée grecque, 2nd ed. Paris. Cameron, A. 2004. Greek Mythography in the Roman World. Oxford. Carroll, M. 1895. Aristotle’s Poetics, c. xxv, in Light of the Homeric Scholia. Dissertation, Johns Hopkins University. Chantraine, P. 1977. Dictionnaire étymologique de la langue grecque: histoire des mots. Paris. Chatzís, A. 1914. Der Philosoph und Grammatiker Ptolemaios Chennos: Leben, Schriftstellerei und Fragmente. Paderborn. Colvin, S. 2007. A Historical Greek Reader: Mycenaean to the Koiné. Oxford. Cope, E. M. 1877. The Rhetoric of Aristotle, with a Commentary, vol. 3. Cambridge. Cucchiarelli, A. 1997. “Allegoria retorica e filologia alessandrina.” Studi italiani di filologia classica 15: 210–30. Cullhed, E. 2016. Eustathios of Thessalonike. Commentary on Homer’s Odyssey, vol. 1: On Rhapsodies A–B. Uppsala. Cunliffe, R. 1924. A Lexicon of the Homeric Dialect. London. D’Alessio, G. 2004. “Textual Fluctuations and Cosmic Streams: Ocean and Acheloios.” Journal of Hellenic Studies 124: 16–37. Davies, M., and J. Kathirithamby. 1986. Greek Insects. Oxford. De Montmollin, D. 1951. La Poétique d’Aristotle: texte primitif et additions ultérieures. Neuchâtel. Dickey, E. 2007. Ancient Greek Scholarship: A Guide to Finding, Reading, and Understanding Scholia, Commentaries, Lexica, and Grammatical Treatises, from Their Beginning to the Byzantine Period. Oxford. Dietze-Mager, G. 2015a. “Aristoteles-Viten und -Schriftenkataloge: Die Aristoteles-Schrift des Ptolemaios im Licht der Überlieferung.” Studi Classici e Orientali 61.1: 107–66. Dietze-Mager, G. 2015b. “Die Pinakes des Andronikos im Licht der Vorrede in der Aristoteles-Schrift des Ptolemaios.” Aevum 89.1: 93–123.

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 8/12/2018, SPi

References

197

Dindorf, W. 1855. Scholia Graeca in Homeri Odysseam, 2 vols. Oxford. Dindorf, W. 1875–8. Scholia Graeca in Homeri Iliadem, 4 vols. Oxford. Dittmeyer, L. 1907. Aristotelis De animalibus historia. Leipzig. Domaradzki, M. 2011. “Theagenes of Rhegium and the Rise of Allegorical Interpretation.” Elenchos: rivista di studi sul pensiero antico 32: 205–27. Dorandi, T. 2006. “La Vita Hesychii d’Aristote.” Studi Classici e Orientali 52: 87–106. Dorandi, T. 2013. Diogenes Laertius: Lives of the Eminent Philosophers. Cambridge. Dorandi, T. 2016. “The Ancient Biographical Tradition on Aristotle.” In A. Falcon, ed., Brill’s Companion to the Reception of Aristotle in Antiquity, 277–98. Leiden. Düring, I. 1957. Aristotle in the Ancient Biographical Tradition. Göteborg. Dyck, A. R. 1987. “The Glossographoi.” Harvard Studies in Classical Philology 91: 119–60. Edwards, M. 1991. The Iliad: A Commentary, vol. 5: Books 17–20. Cambridge. Erbse, H. 1969–88. Scholia Graeca in Homeri Iliadem (scholia vetera), 7 vols. Berlin. Ernst, N. 2006. Die D-Scholien zur Odysee: Kritische Ausgabe. Köln. Finkelberg, M. 2011. The Homer Encyclopedia, 3 vols. London. Ford, A. 1999. “Performing Interpretation: Early Allegorical Exegesis of Homer.” In M. Beissinger et al., eds., Epic Traditions in the Contemporary World: The Poetics of Community, 33–53. Berkeley. Fortenbaugh, W. W. 2005. Theophrastus of Eresus Commentary, vol. 8: Sources on Rhetoric and Poetics. Leiden. Fortenbaugh, W. W. 2011. Theophrastus of Eresus Commentary, vol. 6.1: Sources on Ethics. Leiden. Fortenbaugh, W. W. 2014. Theophrastus of Eresus Commentary, vol. 9.2: Sources on Discoveries and Beginnings, Proverbs et al. (Texts 727–741). Leiden. Fortenbaugh, W. W. 2015. “Aristotle on Women: Politics i 13.1260a13.” Ancient Philosophy 35: 395–404. Frede, D. 1996. “Mixed Feelings in Aristotle’s Rhetoric.” In A. Rorty, ed., Essays on Aristotle’s Rhetoric, 258–85. Berkeley. Friedländer, L. 1853. Aristonici Περὶ σημείων Ἰλιάδος. Göttingen. Friedländer, U. 1895. De Zoilo aliisque Homeri Obtrectatoribus. Königsberg. Friedrich, W.-H. 1956. Verwundung und Tod in der Ilias. Gottingen. Frisk, H. 1960. Griechisches Etymologisches Wörterbuch, vol. 1. Heidelberg. Frisk, H. 1970. Griechisches Etymologisches Wörterbuch, vol. 2. Heidelberg. Giangrande, G. 1974. “Two Passages of Chamaileon and a Fragment of Aristotle.” Ἐπιστημονικὴ ἐπετηρὶς τῆς φιλοσοφικῆς Σχολῆς τοῦ Πανεπιστημίου Ἀθηνῶν [EEAth.] 25: 162–6. Giordano, D. 1977/19902. Chamaeleontis Fragmenta. Bologna.

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 8/12/2018, SPi

198

References

Gigon, O. 1987. Aristotelis Opera (ex recensione I. Bekkeri, 2nd ed.), vol. 3: Librorum Deperditorum Fragmenta. Berlin. Golden, L., and O. B. Hardison, Jr. 1968. Aristotle’s Poetics. Englewood Cliffs, NJ. Gotthelf, A. 2012. Teleology, First Principles, and Scientific Method in Aristotle’s Biology. Oxford. Grenfell, B., and A. Hunt. 1899. The Oxyrhynchus Papyrus Part II. London. Gresseth, G. K. 1970. “The Homeric Sirens.” Transactions and Proceedings of the American Philological Association 101: 203–18. Grimaldi, W. 1980. Aristotle, Rhetoric I: A Commentary. New York. Grimaldi, W. 1988. Aristotle, Rhetoric II: A Commentary. New York. Hainsworth, B. 1993. The Iliad: A Commentary, vol. 3: Books 9–12. Cambridge. Halliwell, S. 1987. The Poetics of Aristotle. Chapel Hill, NC. Halliwell, S. 1998. Aristotle’s Poetics, 2nd ed. Chicago. Heath, M. 1996. Aristotle: Poetics. Penguin. Heath, M. 2009. “Heraclides of Pontus on Homer.” In W. W. Fortenbaugh and E. Pender, eds., Heraclides of Pontus: Discussion, 251–72. New Brunswick, NJ. Hein, C. 1985. Definition und Einteilung der Philosophie: von der spätantiken Einleitungsliteratur zur arabischen Enzyklopädie. Frankfurt. Heitz, E. 1865. Die verlorenen Schriften des Aristoteles. Leipzig. Heitz, E. 1869. Fragmenta Aristotelis. Paris. Helmbold, W. 1957. Plutarch: Whether Land or Sea Animals Are Cleverer. In H. Cherniss and W. Helmbold, Plutarch Moralia, vol. 12. Cambridge, MA. Henderson, J. 1991. The Maculate Muse: Obscene Language in Attic Comedy, 2nd ed. Oxford. Henry, R. 1962. Photius: Bibliothèque, vol. 3. Paris. Hercher, R. 1855–6. “Über die Glaubwürdigkeit der Neuen Geschichte des Ptolemaeus Chennus.” Jahrbücher für classische Philologie, Supplementband 1: 267–93. Heubeck, A., S. West, and J. B. Hainsworth. 1988. A Commentary on Homer’s Odyssey, vol. 1: Books I–VIII. Oxford. Heubeck, A., and A. Hoekstra. 1990. A Commentary on Homer’s Odyssey, vol. 2: Books IX–XVI. Oxford. Hintenlang, H. 1961. Untersuchungen zu den Homer-Aporien des Aristoteles. Dissertation, University of Heidelberg. Hinz, B. 2011. “Sirens.” Brill’s New Pauly Supplements I, vol. 4: The Reception of Myth and Mythology. Hope Simpson, R., and J. F. Lazenby. 1970. The Catalogue of the Ships in Homer’s Iliad. Oxford. Howes, G. 1895. “Homeric Quotations in Plato and Aristotle.” Harvard Studies in Classical Philology 6: 153–237.

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 8/12/2018, SPi

References

199

Huxley, G. 1979. “Historical Criticism in Aristotle’s ‘Homeric Questions’.” Proceedings of the Royal Irish Academy 79: 73–81. Jacoby, F. ed. 1926a. Die Fragmente der griechischen Historiker. Teil 2, Zeitgeschichte.—A. Universalgeschichte und Hellenika. Berlin. Jacoby, F. ed. 1926b. Die Fragmente der griechischen Historiker. Teil 2, Zeitgeschichte.—C. Kommentar zu Nr. 64–105. Berlin. Janko, R. 1984. Aristotle on Comedy: Towards a Reconstruction of Poetics II. Berkeley, CA. Janko, R. 1987. Aristotle: Poetics with the Tractatus Coislinianus, reconstruction of Poetics II, and fragments of the On Poets. Indianapolis. Janko, R. 1991. “Philodemus’ On Poems and Aristotle’s On Poets.” Cronache Ercolanesi 21: 5–64. Janko, R. 1992. The Iliad: A Commentary, vol. 3: Books 13–16. Cambridge. Janko, R. 1998. Review of I. Morris and B. Powell, eds., A New Companion to Homer, Leiden, 1997. Bryn Mawr Classical Review 98.5.20. Janko, R. 2002. “The Derveni Papyrus: An Interim Text.” Zeitschrift für Papyrologie und Epigraphik 141: 1–62. Janko, R. 2011. Philodemus On Poems, Books 3–4, with Fragments of Aristotle On Poets. Oxford. Janko, R. 2013. Review of Tarán and Gutas 2012. Classical Philology 108.3: 252–7. Kassel, R. 1976. Aristotelis ars rhetorica. Berlin. Keaney, J. J., and R. Lamberton. 1996. [Plutarch]: Essay on the Life and Poetry of Homer. Atlanta. Kelly, A. 2007. A Referential Commentary and Lexicon to Homer, Iliad VIII. Oxford. Kirk, G. S. 1985. The Iliad: A Commentary, vol. 1: Books 1–4. Cambridge. Kirk, G. S. 1990. The Iliad: A Commentary, vol. 2: Books 5–8. Cambridge. Kirk, G. S., J. E. Raven, and M. Schofield. 1983. The Presocratic Philosophers, 2nd ed. Cambridge. Kouremenos, T. et al. 2006. The Derveni Papyrus. Florence. Lamberton, R. 1992. “Introduction.” In R. Lamberton and J. Keaney, eds., Homer’s Ancient Readers: The Hermeneutics of Greek Epic’s Earliest Exegetes, vii–xxiv. Princeton. Lamberton, R. 1997. “Homer in Antiquity.” In I. Morris and B. Powell, eds., A New Companion to Homer, 33–54. Leiden. Lamberton, R. 2001. Plutarch. New Haven, CT. Latte, K. 1915. “Zur Zeitbestimmung des Antiatticista.” Hermes 50: 373–94. Lehmann, O. 1880. Die tachygraphischen Abkürzungen der griechischen Handschriften. Leipzig.

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 8/12/2018, SPi

200

References

Lennox, J. 1996. “Aristotle’s Biological Development: The Balme Hypothesis.” In W. Wians, ed., Aristotle’s Philosophical Development: Problems and Prospects, 229–48. Lanham, MD. Lennox, J. 2015. “Aristotle’s Posterior Analytics and the Aristotelian Problemata.” In R. Mayhew, ed., The Aristotelian Problemata Physica: Philosophical and Scientific Investigations, 36–60. Leiden. Levý, J. 1961. “Contribution to the Identification of Some Trees and Shrubs in the Oldest Works of Literature.” Isis 52.1: 78–86. Ludwich, A. 1902. Über die Papyrus-Commentare zu den Homerischen Gedichten. Königsberg. Macleod, C. W. 1982. Homer Iliad Book XXIV. Cambridge. MacPhail, J. 2011. Porphyry’s Homeric Questions on the Iliad: Text, Translation, Commentary. Berlin. Madius, V. 1550. Vincentii Madii et Bartholomaei Lombardi Veronensis in Aristotelis librum De poetica communes explanationes: Madii vero in eundem librum propriae annotationes. Venice. Martano, A. 2012. “Chamaeleon of Heraclea Pontica: The Sources, Text and Translation.” In A. Martano et al., eds., Praxiphanes of Mytilene and Chamaeleon of Heraclea: Text, Translation, and Discussion, 157–337. New Brunswick, NJ. Matthaios, S. 2006a. “Phrynicus [4]: Atticist lexicographer 2nd cent. AD.” Brill’s New Pauly. Matthaios, S. 2006b. “Zoilus.” Brill’s New Pauly. Mayhew, R. 1999. “Behavior Unbecoming a Woman: Aristotle’s Poetics 15 and Euripides’ Melanippe the Wise.” Ancient Philosophy 19.1: 89–104. Mayhew, R. 2015. “Aristotle’s Biology and His Lost Homeric Puzzles.” Classical Quarterly 65.1: 109–33. Mayhew, R. 2016. “Aristotle on Hermes’ Sandals in Schol. T Il. 24.340: A Neglected ‘Fragment’?” Classical Quarterly 66.2: 777–80. Mayhew, R. 2017a. “Aristotle on Philoctetes’ Snake? Il. 2.721–725 and Aelian NA 4.57.” Philologus: Zeitschrift für antike Literatur und ihre Rezeption 161.2: 243–55. Mayhew, R. 2017b. “Aristotle on the Eagle in Iliad 21.252: On Five Mistaken Homeric Scholia.” Journal of Hellenic Studies 137: 1–7. Mayhew, R. 2017c. “Aristotle on the σκῶπες in Odyssey 5.66.” Rheinisches Museum für Philologie 160.1: 1–8. Mayhew, R. Forthcoming. “Athenaeus 7 and Aristotle’s Lost Zoïka or On Fish.” In A. P. Mesquita, ed., Revisiting Aristotle’s Fragments: New Essays on the Fragments of Aristotle’s Lost Works. Mayor, A. 2000. The First Fossil Hunters: Dinosaurs, Mammoths, and Myth in Greek and Roman Times. Princeton. Meeusen, M. 2016a. Plutarch’s Science of Natural Problems: A Study with Commentary on Quaestiones Naturales. Leuven.

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 8/12/2018, SPi

References

201

Meeusen, M. 2016b. “ ‘Why Are Dionysian Artists Mostly Worthless People?’ Aristotle’s ΠΡΟΒΛΗΜΑΤΑ ΕΓΚΥΚΛΙΑ in Context.” Classical Quarterly 66.2: 781–5. Menn, S. 2015. “Democritus, Aristotle, and the Problemata.” In R. Mayhew, ed., The Aristotelian Problemata Physica: Philosophical and Scientific Investigations, 10–35. Leiden. Miller, E. 1868. Mélanges de littérature grecque. Paris. Mirhady, D. 2012. “Something to Do with Dionysus: Chamaeleon on the Origins of Tragedy.” In A. Martano et al., eds., Praxiphanes of Mytilene and Chamaeleon of Heraclea: Text, Translation, and Discussion, 387–409. New Brunswick, NJ. Monro, D. B. 1884. Homer Iliad: Books I–XII. Oxford. Montanari, F. 1989. “24. Aristoteles 30T” [= HA passages]. In F. Adorno et al., eds., Corpus dei Papiri Filosofici Greci e Latini. Parte I: Autori noti 1*, 319–26. Florence. Montanari, F. et al. 2017. “Towards a New Critical Edition of the Scholia to the Iliad: A Specimen.” Trends in Classics 9.1: 1–21. Moraux, P. 1951. Les listes anciennes des ouvrages d’Aristote. Louvain. Most, G. 2010. “Hellenistic Allegory and Early Imperial Rhetoric.” In R. Copeland and P. T. Struck, eds., Cambridge Companion to Allegory, 26–38. Cambridge. Nagy, G. 1997. “Homeric Scholia.” In I. Morris and B. Powell, eds., A New Companion to Homer, 101–22. Leiden. (An updated version can be found here: http://chs.harvard.edu/CHS/article/display/3375.) Nicole, J. 1891. Les Scolies Genevoises de l’Iliade, vol. 1. Geneva. Nünlist, R. 2009. The Ancient Critic at Work: Terms and Concepts of Literary Criticism in Greek Scholia. Cambridge. Nünlist, R. 2011. “Scholia.” In M. Finkelberg, ed., The Homer Encyclopedia, 3: 777–9. London. Pagani, L. 2004. “Asclepiade di Mirlea e la coppa di Nestore.” In R. Pretagostini and E. Dettori, eds., La cultura ellenistica: l’opera letteraria e l’esegesi antica, 353–69. Rome. Pagani, L. 2007. Asclepiade di Mirlea: I frammenti degli scritti omerici. Rome. Pagani, L. 2017. “Eustathius’ Use of Ancient Scholarship in his Commentary on the Iliad: Some Remarks.” In F. Pontani et al., eds., Reading Eustathios of Thessalonike, 79–110. Berlin. Page, D. L. 1973. Folktales in Homer’s Odyssey. Cambridge, MA. Pépin, J. 1982. “The Platonic and Christian Ulysses.” In D. J. O’Meara, ed., Neoplatonism and Christian Thought, 3–18. Albany, NY. Pfeiffer, R. 1968. History of Classical Scholarship: From the Beginning to the End of the Hellenistic Age. Oxford. Platt, A. 1911. “Miscellanea.” Classical Quarterly 5.4: 253–7.

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 8/12/2018, SPi

202

References

Podlecki, A. J. 1969. “The Peripatetics as Literary Critics.” Phoenix 23: 114–37. Pontani, F. 2005a. Eraclito: Questioni omerische sulle allegorie di Omero in merito agli dèi. Pisa. Pontani, F. 2005b. Sguardi su Ulisse: la tradizione esegetica greca all’Odissea. Rome. Pontani, F. 2007. Scholia Graeca in Odysseam, vol. 1: Scholia ad libros α–β. Rome. Pontani, F. 2010. Scholia Graeca in Odysseam, vol. 2: Scholia ad libros γ–δ. Rome. Pontani, F. 2015. Scholia Graeca in Odysseam, vol. 3: Scholia ad libros ε–ζ. Rome. Pontani, F. 2016. “Thoughts on Editing Greek Scholia: The Case of the Exegesis to the Odyssey.” In E. Göransson et al., eds., The Arts of Editing Medieval Greek and Latin: A Casebook, 313–37. Toronto. Porter, J. 2011. “Making and Unmaking: The Achaean Wall and the Limits of Fictionality in Homeric Criticism.” Transactions of the American Philological Association 141.1: 1–36. Prince, S. 2015. Antisthenes of Athens: Texts, Translations, and Commentary. Ann Arbor, MI. Pusch, H. 1890. Quaestiones Zenodoteae. Halle. Radt, S. 2007. Strabons Geographika, vol. 6: Buch V–VIII: Kommentar. Gottingen. Rapp, C. 2010. “Aristotle’s Rhetoric,” The Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy, ed. Edward N. Zalta (http://plato.stanford.edu/archives/spr2010/ entries/aristotle-rhetoric/). Rhodes, P. J. 1981. A Commentary on the Aristotelian Athenaion Politeia. Oxford. Richardson, N. 1992. “Aristotle’s Reading of Homer and Its Background.” In R. Lamberton and J. Keaney, eds., Homer’s Ancient Readers: The Hermeneutics of Greek Epic’s Earliest Exegetes, 30–40. Princeton. Richardson, N. 1993. The Iliad: A Commentary, vol. 6: Books 21–24. Cambridge. Richardson, N. 2006. “Homeric Professors in the Age of the Sophists.” In A. Laird, ed., Oxford Readings in Ancient Literary Criticism, 62–86. Oxford. Ridgeway, W. 1887. “The Homeric Talent, Its Origin, Value, and Affinities.” Journal of Hellenic Studies 8: 133–58. Rijksbaron, A. 2007. Plato, Ion or: On the Iliad. Leiden. Römer, A. 1884. Die Homercitate und die Homerischen Fragen des Aristoteles. Munich. Rose, V. 1863. Aristoteles Pseudepigraphus, Pars Prima: Fragmenta Aristotelis Philosophica. Leipzig. Rose, V. 1870. Aristotelis qui ferebantur librorum fragmenta. Aristotelis opera, vol. 5. Berlin.

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 8/12/2018, SPi

References

203

Rose, V. 1886. Aristotelis qui ferebantur librorum fragmenta. Leipzig. Rosenmeyer, T. G. 1973. “Design and Execution in Aristotle, Poetics ch. xxv.” California Studies in Classical Antiquity 6: 231–52. Russo, J. M. Fernandez-Galiano, and A. Heubeck. 1992. A Commentary on Homer’s Odyssey, vol. 3: Books XVII–XXIV. Oxford. Rutherford, R. 2011. “Allegory.” In M. Finkelberg, ed., The Homer Encyclopedia, 1: 37–9. London. Sandbach, F. H. 1982. “Plutarch and Aristotle.” Illinois Classical Studies 7: 207–32. Sanz Morales, M. 1994. El Homero de Aristóteles. Amsterdam. Saunders, K. 1999. “The Wounds in Iliad 13–16.” Classical Quarterly 49: 345–63. Sauvé Meyer, S. 2015. Plato: Laws 1–2. Oxford. Schenkeveld, D. M. 1993. “The Lacuna at Aristotle’s Poetics 1457b33.” American Journal of Philology 114: 85–9. Schmitt, A. 2011. Aristoteles: Poetik. Berlin. Schrader, H. 1880. Porphyrii Quaestionum Homericarum ad Iliadem pertinentium reliquiae. Leipzig. Schrader, H. 1888. “Die hexametrischen überschriften zu den achtundvierzig Homerischen rhapsodien.” Jahrbücher für classische Philologie 34: 577–609. Schrader, H. 1890. Porphyrii Quaestionum Homericarum ad Odysseam pertinentium reliquiae. Leipzig. Sharples, R. 1995. Theophrastus of Eresus, Commentary, vol. 5: Sources on Biology. Leiden. Sider, D. 2014. “The Orphic Poem of the Derveni Papyrus.” In I. Papadopoulou and L. Muellner, eds., Poetry as Initiation: The Center for Hellenic Studies Symposium on the Derveni Papyrus, 225–53. Cambridge, MA. Slater, W. 2012. Review of J. MacPhail, Porphyry’s Homeric Questions on the Iliad: Text, Translation, Commentary, Berlin, 2011. Exemplaria classica 16: 325–30. Sodano A. R. 1964. Prolegomeni primi alle fonti delle Quaestiones Homericae di Porfirio: un capitolo sulla storia dell’antica critica e filologia omerica. Naples. Sodano A. R. 1965. “Gli ἀδύνατα omerici nell’esegesi di Porfirio: la metodologia filologico-estetica di Aristotele.” Rendiconti della Accademia di Archeologia, Lettere e Belle Arti: Napoli 60: 227–78. Sodano A. R. 1966. “Gli ἄλογα omerici nell’esegesi di Porfirio: la metodologia filologico-estetica di Aristotele.” Atti della Accademia Pontaniana 25: 205–39. Sodano A. R. 1970. Porphyrii Quaestionum Homericum Liber I. Naples. Sodano A. R. 1974. “Aristotele, Ἀπορήματα Ὁμηρικά, fr. 143, 146, 151, 157, 161 Rose³.” Annali della Facoltà di Lettere e Filosofia, Università di Macerata 7: 11–54.

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 8/12/2018, SPi

204

References

Stallbaum, G. 1825–6. Eustathii archiepiscopi Thessalonicensis commentarii ad Homeri Odysseam, 2 vols. Leipzig. Steiner, D. 2010. Homer Odyssey: Books XVII and XVIII. Cambridge. Struck, P. 2011. “Allegorical Interpretation.” In M. Finkelberg, ed., The Homer Encyclopedia, 1: 34–7. London. Tarán, L. and D. Gutas. 2012. Aristotle: Poetics. Editio Maior of the Greek Text with Historical Introductions and Philological Commentaries. Leiden. Theodoridis, C. 2013. Photii patriarchae lexicon (Ν–Φ), vol. 3. Berlin. Tomberg, K.-H. 1968. Die Kaine Historia des Ptolemaios Chennos: Eine literarhistorische und quellenkritische Untersuchung. Bonn. Tosi, R. 2015. “Typology of Lexicographical Works.” In F. Montanari et al., eds., Brill’s Companion to Ancient Greek Scholarship, vol. 1, 622–33. Leiden. Tucker, T. G. 1899. Aristotelis Poetica. London. Valente, S. 2015. The Antiatticist: Introduction and Critical Edition. Berlin. van der Valk, M. 1963. Researches on the Text and Scholia of the Iliad, 2 vols. Leiden. van der Valk, M. 1971–87. Eustathii archiepiscopi Thessalonicensis commentarii ad Homeri Iliadem pertinentes, 4 vols. Leiden: Brill. van Thiel, H. 1991. Homeri Odyssea. Hildesheim. van Thiel, H. 2014a. Scholia D in Iliadem: Proecdosis aucta et correctior 2014. Secundum codices manu scriptos. Cologne. van Thiel, H. 2014b. Aristarch, Aristophanes Byzantios, Demetrios Ixion, Zenodot: Fragmente zur Ilias gesammelt, neu herausgegeben und kommentiert II. Berlin. Verhasselt, G. Forthcoming. “Did Homer Nod Off? Aristotle and Homeric Problem-Solving.” In A. P. Mesquita, ed., Revisiting Aristotle’s Fragments: New Essays on the Fragments of Aristotle’s Lost Works. Villoison, J. B. G. d’Ansse de. 1788. Homeri Ilias ad veteris codicis Veneti fidem recensita. Venice. von der Mühll, P. 1962. Homeri Odyssea. Basel. Wehrli, F. 1969. Die Schule des Aristoteles, vol. 9: Phainias von Eresos, Chamaileon, Praxiphanes, 2nd ed. Basel. West, M. L. 1998. Homerus Ilias Volumen Alterum Rhapsodias I–XII. Munich/ Leipzig. West, M. L. 2000. Homerus Ilias Volumen Alterum Rhapsodias XIII–XXIV. Munich/Leipzig. West, M. L. 2001. Studies in the Text and Transmission of the Iliad. Munich/ Leipzig. West, M. L. 2011. The Making of the Iliad: Disquisition and Analytical Commentary. Oxford. West, M. L. 2013. The Epic Cycle: A Commentary on the Lost Troy Epics. Oxford.

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 8/12/2018, SPi

References

205

Wilamowitz, U. 1916. Die Ilias und Homer. Berlin. White, S. 2002a. “Eudemus the Naturalist.” In I. Bodnar and W. W. Fortenbaugh, eds., Eudemus of Rhodes, 207–41. New Brunswick, NJ. White, S. 2002b. “Opuscula and Opera in the Catalogue of Theophrastus’ Works.” In W. W. Fortenbaugh and G. Wöhrle, eds., On the Opuscula of Theophrastus, 9–37. Stuttgart. Whitmarsh, T. 2015. Battling the Gods: Atheism in the Ancient World. New York. Wilson, M. 2013. Structure and Method in Aristotle’s Meteorologica. Cambridge, MA. Wilson, N. G. 1971. Review of Tomberg, 1968. Classical Review 21.1: 134–5. Wilson, N. G. 1983. Scholars of Byzantium, revised edition 1996. London.

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 8/12/2018, SPi

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 11/12/2018, SPi

Index Locorum Aelian NA 7.39 50 Ambrose De fide 3.1.4 176 Anonymous in Rhet. CAG 21.2, p. 209 101 Tractatus Coislinianus fols. 248v–249r 115 Antisthenes fr. 32b Decleva Caizzi 93 Apollonius Sophistes 35.2 101 68.11–19 59 98.11 147 113.28 66 168.9 61 Aristocles of Messene On Philosophy fr. A 1 col. ii 18–32 ( Janko) 79 Aristophanes Aves 1181 64 Lysistrata 381 37 Aristophanes of Byzantium Epit. (Lampros) 2.180 (79.11–14) 56 2.488–9 (127.9–15) 50 Aristotle & corpus Aristotelicum Ath.Po. 43.2 190 EE 3.2.1230b21–38 176 EN 1.8.1098b12–16 95 1.8.1099a32–b6 11 3.6–9 86 3.10 176 4.11 84

7.3.1147a24–5 175 9.11.1171a27–b12 78 GA 1.18.726a7 40 3.10.765a2–5 174 HA 3.3.513b1 51 3.3.513b24–8 50–3, 72 3.12.519a9 53 3.12.519a18–20 53–4, 71 4.11.538b18–19 50 5.13.544b1–2 181 6.20.574b29–575a1 55–7, 71–2, 74 6.21.575b4–7 58–9, 71, 73 6.28.578a32–b5 59–62 6.28.578b1 71 7(8).28.606a18–21 62–3, 71 8(9).1.609b21–3 68 8(9).7–36 64 8(9).12.615b5–10 64–6, 71 8(9).32.618b18–30 66–8, 71 8(9).32.618b27 67 8(9).32.618b31–619a12 67 8(9).37.620b33–5 72 8(9).37.621a6–16 149 8(9).40.623b5–13 172–4 8(9).40.626a7–b1 71–2 8(9).44.629b10–14 33 8(9).44.629b21–4 69–71, 74 Homeric Problems frs. (Rose3) 143 16 145 57, 170 146 18, 97–8, 162 147 14 149 21, 29, 31, 191 151 22 153 170 160 15 161 19 162 115 164.1 125, 141 164.2 141 164.3 141 165 62

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 11/12/2018, SPi

208

Index Locorum

Aristotle & corpus Aristotelicum (cont.) 166 15 168 79, 161 170.1 17, 109 170.2 17, 109 171.1 17, 91 171.2 165 172 15 173.1 85 173.2 85 174.1 85, 155 174.2 86 175.1 188 175.2 32, 189 175.3 189 177 56 178 31 179.1 28 179.2 27 179.3 27 frs. (Gigon) 368 16 369 57, 170 370 18, 97–8, 162 371 14 373 21, 29, 31, 191 375 22 377 170 383 15 385 19 388.1 141 388.2 141 388.3 125, 141 389 15 391.1 79, 161 391.2 79 393 17, 109 394 17, 91, 165 395 15 396 85 397.1 85, 155 397.2 86 398.1 32, 189 398.2 188 398.3 189 400 56 401 31 402 115 403 31 404.1 21 404.2 28 404.3 27

IA 14.712a23–b9 49 MA 3.699a27–30 186 Metaph. Λ.8.1074a38–b10 186 N.6.1093a26–28 6 Mete. 1.4 178 Mir. 103 172 On Poets frs. (Janko) 34 118 63 9, 79 65a–67b 9 65a–e 9 66a–b 9 66c 9 67a–b 9 PA 3.1.662a1–2 50 3.10.673a10–17 74 Poet. 3.1448a33 118 5.1449b6 118 11.1452a29–b9 40 11.1452a29–33 41 11.1452b5–8 24 14.1453b9 179 15.1454a26–8 79 15.1454a29–31 79 15.1454b8–15 79 16 41–4 16.1454b20–30 41 16.1454b25–30 42–3 16.1454b30–7 41 16.1454b37–1455a4 41 16.1455a4–20 41 21 95, 105–20 21.1457a31–1548a7 105 21.1457b1–3 105 21.1457b2 110 21.1457b3–6 106–9 21.1457b6–33 110 21.1457b6–18 192 21.1457b6–9 95, 143 21.1457b6 107 21.1457b7–32 95 21.1457b9–13 96

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 11/12/2018, SPi

Index Locorum 21.1457b16–19 99, 192 21.1457b33–5 110–11 21.1457b35–1458a5 111–13 21.1457b35 110 21.1458a5–7 113–15 21.1458a5 112 21.1458a8–17 105 22.1458a23–31 95 22.1458a34–b11 113 22.1458b31–1459a4 106 22.1459a5–14 95 23–6 105 24.1459b35–7 95 24.1460a14–17 12 24.1460a18–26 41, 43, 94, 105 25 vii–x, 9–23, 28, 30, 39, 49, 54, 57, 74, 78, 86, 89, 95–6, 106–7, 111, 139, 148, 185 25.1460b6–21 10 25.1460b8–11 86, 139 25.1460b11–13 89, 106 25.1460b13 111 25.1460b17–21 49 25.1460b19–21 11 25.1460b22–9 12 25.1460b29–32 12, 53, 57 25.1460b31–2 50 25.1460b32–5 13 25.1460b35–1461a1 14, 88 25.1461a1–4 15, 139 25.1461a1–2 78 25.1461a4–9 16 25.1461a9–16 17, 107 25.1461a9–10 89, 162 25.1461a16–21 17, 96 25.1461a17–22 95 25.1461a21–3 18 25.1461a23–6 19 25.1461a27–31 20 25.1461a27–8 111 25.1461a31–b9 39 25.1461a31–5 20, 59, 109, 140, 148 25.1461b1–9 21, 53, 81 25.1461b1–3 6 25.1461b12–13 13 25.1461b22–5 11, 139 Pol. 2.9.1269b23–31 187 Rhet. 1.5.1360b19–29 95 1.5.1361b7–14 95

1.11.1370a32–5 75 1.11.1370a35–b32 76 1.11.1370b10–12 80 1.11.1370b13–15 81 1.11.1370b25–9 76 1.11.1370b29–32 82 2.2.1378a30–b9 82 2.2.1378b26–1379a8 82 2.3.1380a6–9 84 2.3.1380b20–5 84 2.9.1387a32–5 86 2.9.1387a31–4 88 3.2.1405a10–11 91 3.2.1405b20–3 91 3.3.1405b34 89 3.3.1406a10–b5 91 3.3.1406a10–13 89 3.4.1406b20–4 99 3.11.1411b30–1412a10 99 3.11.1411b31–2 102 3.11.1411b34 99 3.11.1412a1–2 99 3.11.1412a9 99 3.11.1412a10 102 3.11:1413a32–5 99 3.12.1413b4 93 3.12.1413b19–22 94 3.12.1413b31–1414a6 94 Soph. El. 4.166b1–9 18 5.167b1–20 94 Asclepiades of Myrlea fr. 4 (Pagani) 180 Athenaeus 11.487F–494B 180 11.489E–492D 180 11.490B 181 15.701A 69 Chamaeleon frs. (Martano) 17 162 20 162 24A 165 Clement Alex. Protrep. 68 5 [Demetrius] Eloc. 61–2 93 114 89

209

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 11/12/2018, SPi

210

Index Locorum

Democritus (68 DK) A76 5 B25 5 B30 5 B143 77 Diogenes Laertius 2.3 5 5.25 32–3 5.26 25, 30 5.92 165 8.21 4 9.1 4 9.48 5 Empedocles (31 DK) B35.14–15 19 B 88 112 Etym. gen. A 1507 37 Etym. mag. 180.49–57 37 744.18–37 124 Euripides Andromache 167 37 Bacchae 625 37 Helen 166–8 170 Hypsipyle fr. 365 37 fr. 753 37 Eustathius Il.1.1 (1.20.28–21.1) 112 Il.2.120 (1.287.20–2) 112 Il.2.120 (1.287.20) 119 Il.2.402–3 (1.374.23–6) 59 Il.2.671–5 (1.493.26–494.10) 92 Il.2.671–5 (1.494.1–3) 93 Il.7.445–63 (2.494.3–6) 116 Il.9.539 (2.793.9–794.12) 60 Il.9.539 (2.794.14–19) 61 Il.10.84 (3.22) 107 Il.11.377 (3.215.5–7) 114 Il.11.385 (3.218.2–5) 144, 152 Il.13.389 (3.491.21–4) 36 Il.14.291 (3.643.7) 64 Il.18.351 (4.189.6) 59 Il.20.73–4 (4.374.22–3) 54 Il.20.496 (4.441.13–14) 112

Il.21.194 (4.483.22–484.5) 36 Il.23.269 (4.729.4–9) 131 Il.24.316 (4.910.19–20) 67 Il.24.316 (4.911.2–13) 66 Il.24.569 (4.956.1–5) 79, 161 Od.4.83 (1.150.20–31) 63 Od.5.334 (1.228.28–32) 91 Od.9.501 (1.359.1–2) 83 Od.10.390 (1.386.32–3) 59 Od.12 (2.1.3–5) 169 Od.12.62–5 (2.10.6–11.32) 181–2 Od.12.62 (2.11.14–16) xxiii Od.12.130 (2.18.23–7) 189 Od.12.167 (2.5.16–20) 171 Od.12.167 (2.5.27–9) 173 Od.17.290 (2.145.33–9) 57 Od.17.326–7 (2.146.23) 56 Od.17.327 (2.146.26–9) 57 Od.19.472 (2.213.29–31) 43, 95 Od.21.411 (2.265.43–5) 174 Galen in Hp. Nat. Hom. 15.135 51 15.138 52 Protrepticus 8 93 PHP 4.7.24–33 77 Harpocration λ 11 36 Heraclitus (22 DK) B42 4 Heraclitus the Allegorist HP 14 17, 107 50–1 20 54 166–7 70 171–2 Hermias in Phaedrum 259a 176 Herodotus 4.29 63 8.26 166 Hesiod Op. 171 32 456 98

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 11/12/2018, SPi

Index Locorum Hesychius α 299 5 α 4323 101 α 8845 38 ε 645 163 ε 3196–7 59 ε 5969 110 κ 2278 143, 148 μ 438 119 χ 542 61 Hieronymus of Rhodes (fr. White) 50 4 Hippocratic corpus Loc.Hom. 3 51 Nat.Hom. 11 52 Homer Iliad 1.11 111 1.50–1 108 1.50 17, 107 1.82 82 1.94 111 1.356 82 1.481 102 2.1–2 96 2.20 119 2.169 127 2.183 16 2.196 82 2.214 119 2.272 96 2.323–9 57 2.402–3 58 2.407 127 2.448 97 2.484–93 98 2.582 116 2.583 117 2.585 118 2.627 127, 130 2.649 18, 59, 97, 162 2.671–5 91–2 2.723 39 3.236–8 13–14 3.243–4 13 3.277–8 21 3.277 191 3.454 22 4.68–103 22 4.126 99 4.434 89

4.482–3 35, 40 4.517–22 100 4.521 101–2 5.78 111 5.99 99 5.374 119 5.393 113 5.576 127–8 5.759 119 5.890–1 157–64 5.902 90 6.235–6 124 7.313–15 58 7.336–43 115 7.433–63 115 8.179 90 9 126–40 9.53–4 81 9.67 90 9.119–57 137–8 9.121–4 126 9.203 107 9.262–99 138 9.385–90 99 9.538–40 59–60 9.648 82 10.1–2 96 10.11–13 96 10.137 127 10.152–3 15 10.252 19 10.316 107 10.373 113 11.187–9 87 11.377 113 11.385 143–9, 152 11.540–3 87–8 11.548–57 69, 98 11.551–4 69 11.558–62 69 11.574 99 11.628–41 180 12.1–33 115 13.286–309 128 13.295 135 13.328 135 13.389–90 35–8 13.545–7 50–3 13.587 99 13.592 99 13.627 119 13.799 99–100

211

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 11/12/2018, SPi

212 Homer (cont.) 14.289–91 64–6 15.40 119 15.542 99 16.59 82 16.197 119 16.405 113 16.408 150 16.433–4 77 16.482–3 35, 38 17.467 119 17.475 119 17.481 119 17.500 119 17.501 119 17.661–3 69–70 18.22–5 77 18.54 77 18.108–9 76 18.109–10 81–2 18.109 80 18.385 113 18.424 113 18.489 17, 96 19.392 117, 119 20.49 90 20.67–75 4 20.73–4 53–4 20.135 88 20.164 99 20.234 20 20.272 20 20.298 119 20.325 156 20.348 119 21.8 54 21.211–83 153 21.252 18, 33, 39, 68 21.253 67 21.271–2 21 21.284–6 153–7 21.287–97 153 21.287 155 21.388–90 28, 161–7 21.390 27, 158–63, 166 21.592 111 22.131–225 12 22.132 127, 130 22.168–9 77 22.414–15 77 23.108 76–9 23.153 76

Index Locorum 23.259 132 23.262–70 123 23.267 39 23.269 125–35 23.281 90 23.328 18 23.702–5 124 23.741–51 129 23.885–6 124 24.10–12 77 24.14–18 15 24.80–2 148–52 24.81 147, 150 24.311 67 24.315–16 39, 66–8 24.474 117 24.504 76 24.560–72 79 24.572 99 24.574 117 Odyssey 1.52–4 186 1.69 85 1.185 96 1.328 22 1.71–3 14 3.138 119 3.440 39 4.85 62–3 4.113 76 4.183 76 4.197–8 78 5.28–62 109 5.66 33, 39 5.92–4 109 5.93 17 5.275 17, 96 5.334 91 6.4–8 85 6.79 90 6.215 90 7.107 90 8.75–8 166 8.266–366 187 8.389–95 131 8.430–1 131 8.438–40 131 9.190–1 59–62 9.332–3 85 9.382–97 85 9.475–9 83 9.494–9 83

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 11/12/2018, SPi

Index Locorum 9.500–4 83 9.525 85, 155 9.528–35 83 10.19–20 58–9 10.136 90–1 10.200 60 11.8 90 11.593–600 100 11.598 99–101, 193 12 32, 99–101, 193 12.39–54 170 12.52 171 12.61–5 177–87 12.127–31 188–90 12.139–41 188 12.150 90 12.153–200 170 12.167 171 12.184–91 170 12.244–59 79 12.253 151 12.374–5 21 12.374 21, 31 12.449 90 13.66–8 131 16.41 102 16.111 119 17.208 36, 40 17.290–327 13 17.326–7 55–7 19.172–4 59, 162 19.173–4 97 19.173 18 19.213–60 44 19.249 76 19.390–4 42 19.418–20 58–9 19.467–8 42 21.217–21 42–4 21.411 174 23.69–84 42 23.231 76 24.327–35 42 24.328–31 42–3 Hyginus 2.8 68 Isidore of Seville Etymologies 2.11.3.31 176–7 John of Lydia De mensibus incert. 4 (Wünsch) 172

Lucian DMort. 30 93 Lycophron Alexandra 712–31 171 New Testament Apocalypse 18:6 109 Olympiodorus in Pl. Alcib. 28.18–25 93 Papyri PDerveni col. XXIII 12 32 POxy 221 col. xiv 27–34 154–7 See Philodemus Pausanius 5.14.2 36 Philodemus De bono rege (PHerc. 1507) 93 De ira (PHerc. 182) 77 Philoxenus (Theodoridis) fr. 340 114 fr. 395 69 Photius Bibliotheca codex 190 179–80 Lexicon σ 117 170 τ 17 124 Plato Cra. 391e–392a 54 392a 65 Ion 530b–d 6 536e–537e 6 540e–541b 6 Laws 1–2 6 Phaedrus 246e 178 258e–259b 176 Philebus 47c–48b 76 61b 109 Republic 2–3 6

213

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 11/12/2018, SPi

214 Plato (cont.) 2.376e–3.398b 7 3.387d–388d 77 10.595a–608b 7 10.595b 3 10.606e 3 10.607a 8 10.607c 8 10.617b 171 Symposium 210a–211b 7 Pliny HN 9.5.14 5 Plutarch Aud. poet. (Mor.) 19E 7 24B–C 87 32E–33A 62 36A 87 Pyth. or. (Mor.) 398A 102 Quaest. conv. 677D 114 677E 108 695E 90 695F 90 Quaest. nat. (Mor.) 917B–D 61–2 Soll. an. (Mor.) 976F–977Α 148–52 977A–C 149 977A 62, 149–50 Vit.Hom. B (Ps.–Plut.) 8 108 9 112 33 93 132 87 Pollux Onomasticon 9.54 124 Porphyry HQI 1 (Sodano) 49 90

Index Locorum 69–71 80 118 130 HQI (fragments)1 on Il. 2.183 16 on Il. 2.305 57, 170 on Il. 2.649 18, 97–8 on Il. 3.236 14 on Il. 3.277 21, 191 on Il. 5.7 5, 12 on Il. 5.741 170 on Il. 8.179 90 on Il. 9.67 90 on Il. 9.265 39 on Il. 10.252 19 on Il. 10.276 5 on Il. 18.22–35 77 on Il. 20.49 90 on Il. 20.67–75 23 on Il. 21.388–90 161–2 on Il. 23.269 125–7 on Il. 23.281 90 on Il. 24.15 15 on Il. 24.315–16 67–8 HQO (fragments) on Od.5.93 17, 109 on Od.5.334 17, 91 on Od. 6.79 90 on Od. 6.215 90 on Od. 7.107 90 on Od. 12.129 89 on Od. 17.326 56 Posidonius fr. 410 77 Proclus in Rep. 1:95.31 30 1:122.21–126.7 77 Scholia, Apollonius Rhodius 2.904–10a 162 4.892 171 Scholia, Homeric schol. D Il. 1.1 112 schol. A Il. 1.11a 111

1 There are no editions of the fragments from Porphyry’s Homeric Questions on the Iliad and Odyssey that scholars consider authoritative, nor is there substantial agreement about which Homeric scholia come from Porphyry. (See A Note on Sources, p. xxii.) So in the Index Locorum, I have followed Nünlist (2009, 423) and written “on” plus the relevant Homeric verse(s).

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 11/12/2018, SPi

Index Locorum schol. D Il. 1.11 111 schol. A Il. 1.50a 107–8 schol. bT Il. 1.303 102 schol. A Il. 1.381 4 schol. bT Il. 1.481b 102 schol. D Il. 2.120 119 schol. B Il. 2.183 16 schol. B Il. 2.305 57, 170 schol. A Il. 2.582 116 schol. D Il. 2.582 116 schol. B Il. 2.649 18, 97–8, 162 schol. b Il. 2.673–4 93 schol. A Il. 2.673 92 schol. D Il. 2.673 93 schol. b Il. 2.783a 5 schol. B Il. 3.236 14 schol. B Il. 3.277 29–31 schol. D Il. 4.93 22 schol. Ge Il. 4.434 90 schol. T Il. 4.521 101 schol. A Il. 4.521a 100 schol. A Il. 5.7b 5 schol. B Il. 5.7 12 schol. A Il. 5.196a 112 schol. Ge Il. 5.393 114 schol. B Il. 5.741 170 schol. bT Il. 5.890–1 160–1 schol. T Il. 5.902 90 schol. T Il. 8.564 112 schol. B Il. 9.265 39 schol. AbT Il. 9.539a1–b 61 schol. B Il. 10.153 153 schol. B Il. 10.252 19 schol. B Il. 10.276 5 schol. D Il. 10.316 108 schol. A Il. 11.385d 145, 147 schol. A Il. 11.385e1 146 schol. T Il. 11.385e2 146 schol. T Il. 11.385f 143, 152 schol. Ge Il. 11.385 144 schol. T Il. 11.542a1 87 schol. b Il.11.542a2 87 schol. D Il. 11.547 98 schol. A Il. 11.548a 98 schol. D Il. 11.554 69 schol. T Il. 11.554 69 schol. T Il. 13.389 36 schol. A Il. 13.389 36 schol. Ge Il. 13.389 36 schol. D Il. 13.389 36 schol. A Il. 13.546 51 schol. D Il. 13.546 52

215

schol. bT Il. 13.547 51 schol. A Il. 13.548a 52 schol. D Il. 14.291 64–5 schol. T Il. 14.291a 64–5 schol. D Il. 15.40 119 schol. A Il. 16.482 36 schol. D Il. 16.482 36 schol. bT Il. 17.663 69 schol. A Il. 18.22–35 77 schol. Ge Il. 18.351 59 schol. bT Il. 18.356b 78 schol. A Il. 18.385b2 113 schol. A Il. 18.424 113 schol. D Il. 19.392 119 schol. B Il. 20.67–75 23 schol. bT Il. 20.73–4 54 schol. bT Il. 21.284–6 153 schol. T Il. 21.389a1 166 schol. b Il. 21.389a2 166 schol. Ge Il. 21.390 27, 136, 158–67 schol. bT Il. 22.110b 112 schol. A Il. 23.111a1 108 schol. Il. 23.269 123–41 schol. B Il. 24.15 15 schol. A Il. 24.81a 150 schol. bT Il. 24.316b 66 schol. bT Il. 24.474 119 schol. B Il. 24.569 79, 161 schol. T Il. 24.569 79, 161 schol. A Il. 24.574 119 schol. HMaVY Od. 1.176e 112 schol. HMa Od. 2.94b 110 schol. H Od. 4.85b 63 schol. V Od. 4.85c1 63 schol. T Od. 5.93e1 108–9 schol. EX Od. 5.93e2 109 schol. HMaOP1 Od. 5.334c1 165 schol. EHP1TX Od. 5.334e 17, 91 schol. V Od. 9.106 15 schol. T Od 9.311 15 schol. M Od. 9.333 85 schol. H Od. 9.345 85 schol. ΣHQT Od. 9.525 155 schol. H Od. 9.525c 85 schol. H Od. 9.525d 86 schol. D Od. 10.19 59 schol. D Od. 11.311 59 schol. D Od. 11.598 101 schol. D Od. 12.39 171 schol. D Od. 12.63b 177–8, 184 schol. V Od. 12.128 188 schol. D Od. 12.129 32, 188

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 11/12/2018, SPi

216 Scholia, Homeric (cont.) schol. V Od. 12.129 189 schol. H Od. 12.253 151 schol. V Od. 17.326 56 Scholia, Platonic schol. Min. 319b 59 Septuagint Jeremiah 27:39 31 Strabo 3.25.9–10 117 8.1–5 116 8.3.3 116 8.3.19 116 8.3.29 116 8.3.32 116 8.4.1 116 8.5.3 112, 115–20 8.5.8 116 8.6.10 116 8.6.19 116 13.1.36 115 Suda ε 1240 59 ζ 73 173 μ 311 119 σ 280 170–1 τ 33 124 τ 34 135

Index Locorum Tatian Or. 21 5 Or. 31 4–5 Theophrastus CP 1.1.4 37, 39 1.3.5 37 2.16.2 37 5.7.2 37 HP 4.1.1 37–9 fragments (FHS&G) 652 132 686 89 Xenophanes (21 DK) B11–12 14 B11 4 B14–16 14 B23–7 14 Zenobius 5.97 173 Zoilus (frs. FGrHist 71) 5 17 7 5 9 5 11 77–8

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 11/12/2018, SPi

Index Nominum Ancient to Byzantine

Galen 51 n, 52, 93–4

Aeschylus 181–2 Alexander the Great 26, 27 n, 180, 182–4 Ambrose, St. 176 n Andronicus of Rhodes 25 n Antimachus 117 Antisthenes 85, 93, 155 Apollonius Sophistes 147, 150–1 Aratus 117–18 Archilochus 29, 31, 144 Ariphrades 106 Aristarchus ix, 52, 98 n, 101 n, 107, 134 n, 145–52, 191 n Aristonicus 51–2, 101 n, 107, 134, 146, 150 Aristophanes 37 n, 64, 145 Aristophanes of Byzantium 56, 61 n, 145, 165 Aristotle passim Asclepiades of Myrlea 180 Athenaeus 180–2

Heraclides Ponticus 97, 98 n Heraclitus (presocratic) 3–4 Heraclitus (Stoic) 25, 107, 166–7, 171, 175, 183 Hermias 176 n Herodotus 63 n Hesiod 4, 29, 31–2, 117, 171, 181 Hesychius 143, 148 Hieronymus of Rhodes 4 n Hippias of Thasos 18 Homer passim

Cambyses 5 Chamaeleon 29, 158, 162–5, 167 Chiron of Amphipolis 182–4

Pherecydes of Syros 5 n Philetas 117–18 Philoxenus 114 Photius 170, 179–80, 184–5 Phrynichus 28 Pindar 32, 181–2 Plato viii, 3, 5–8, 77–8, 80, 171 n, 176, 178, 184 Plutarch xix n, 7 n, 61–2, 87, 90, 108, 114, 148–52 Polemarchus 131, 134 Porphyry vii, xxi–xxii, 4, 5 n, 12, 14 n, 17 nn, 19, 21 n, 23 n, 27 n, 39, 67–8, 77–8, 80–1, 90–1, 97, 98 n, 126, 130, 155, 161, 162 n Posidippus 181 Praxiphanes 29 n Proclus 30 n, 77 n Ptolemy al-Gharīb 25–7 Ptolemy Chennus 179–80 Pythagoras 4 n

Demetrius 29 n Democritus 5 n, 184 Dicaearchus 29 n Didymus of Alexandria 173 Diodorus 135–6 Diogenes Laertius 4, 25, 28, 30 n Empedocles 19, 112 n, 117–18 Epicharmus 117–18 Erotian 66 n Euclides 113 n Euphorion 117–18 Euripides 13, 29, 31, 41 n, 79 n, 170, 172 n, 182 Eustathius xxii–xxiii, 36, 40, 43–4, 54 n, 55–6, 59 n, 60 n, 63, 79, 83–4, 87, 93, 95 n, 107, 114, 119, 131 n, 144–5, 147, 170 n, 171, 173–4, 180–5, 189–90

Isidore of Seville 176 n Ixion 146 n Lamprocles 181–2 Metrodorus of Lampsacus 5–6 Moero of Byzantium 181–2

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 11/12/2018, SPi

218

Index Nominum

Seleucus 4 n Simmias 117–18, 181 Simonides 181–2 Simplicius 30 n Solon 31 Sophocles 13, 117–18 Strabo 60 n, 112 n, 115–20 Syrianus 30 n Tatian xxii n Theagenes xxii n, 4–5, 172 Theocritus 182 Theodore Gaza 50 n Theophrastus 33, 37 n, 38 n, 39, 89 n, 132, 134 Timaeus 132, 134, 171 Timotheus 79

Breitenberger, B. viii, xii n, 14 n, 109 n, 116 n, 128 n, 129 nn, 138 n, 139 n, 152, 155, 160 n, 188 n, 191 n Buffière, F. 4 n Cameron, A. 179 n Carroll, M. viii, 10 n, 11, 12 n, 16 n, 108 n Chantraine, P. 61 n Chatzís, A. 179 n, 181 n, 183 n, 184 n Colvin, S. 91 n Cope, E.M. 89 n Cucchiarelli, A. 190 n Cullhed, E. xxii n, xxiii n, 4 n, 185 n Cunliffe, R. 51 n, 109 n, 113 n

Modern

D’Alessio, G. 37 n Davies, M. 174 nn De Montmollin, D. 11 n Dietze-Mager, G. 26 n Dickey, E. xxi n, 16, 18 n, 55 n, 119 n, 165 n Dindorf, W. xxi Dittmeyer, L. 63 Domaradzki, M. 30 n Dorandi, T. 25 n, 26 nn, 30 n, 33 n, 158 n Düring, I. 26 nn Dyck, A.R. 147 nn

Adamson, P. 3 n Allen, T.W. 156 Ammendola, G. viii Anghelina, C. 45 n Apfel, H. 3 n, 95 n Arnott, W. 64 n, 67 n

Edwards, M. 54 n, 69 n, 119 n Erbse, H. xxi, xxii, 14 n, 21 n, 100 n, 102 n, 125 n, 126 n, 131 n, 132 n, 134, 135 n, 146, 151, 154–7, 158 nn, 159 nn, 160, 162 n, 164 Ernst, N. xxi, 169 n

Baldi, D. 37 n Balme, D. 50 n, 63, 70–1 Beavis, I. 174 Beekes, R. 40 nn, 60 n, 65 n, 67 n, 110 n, 112 n, 119 n, 143 n Bekker, I. 27 n, 50 n, 59 n, 61 n, 62 Berger, F. 33 n Bernardakis, G. 150 n Bernays, J. 30 n Betegh, G. 37 n Bettini, M. 171 n Beullens, P. 50 n Bobokhyan, A. 124 n, 129 n Bouchard, E. viii, xxii n, 11 n, 14 n, 91 n, 98 n, 116 n, 160 n, 163 nn, 164 n, 166 n, 167 n, 170 n, 186 n, 188 n, 189 n, 190 n, 191 n, 192 nn

Ford, A. xxii n, 4 n, 7 n Fortenbaugh, W.W. viii n Frede, D. 76 n Friedländer, L. 101 n, 134, 146 nn Friedländer, U. 5 n Friedrich, W.-H. 51 n Frisk, H. 40 n, 178

Xenophanes 3–4, 14 Zenobius 172–3 Zenodorus 77–8 Zenodotus 78 n, 92, 98 n, 113 n Zeuxis 13 Zoilus 5, 6 n, 12, 17 n, 57, 77–8, 81, 107–8, 128

Giangrande, G. 158 nn, 159 nn, 160–3 Giordano, D. 158 n, 159 nn, 162 n, 163 n Gigon, O. vii n, viii, xxi, 9 n, 27 n, 28 n, 35, 45, 95 n, 125 n 131 n, 132 n, 135, 141, 152, 154–5, 159 n, 192 n Golden, L. 11 n, 105 n Gotthelf, A. 32 n, 50 n, 71 n, 73 Grenfell, B. 154–6 Gresseth, G.K. 171 n

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 11/12/2018, SPi

Index Nominum

219

Grimaldi, W. 81 n, 82 n, 84 n, 86 n Gutas, D. xxi, 13 n, 25 n, 26 n, 107 n, 110 n, 118 n

Levý, J. 36 nn, 37 n Lincoln, A. 94 n Ludwich, A. 156

Hainsworth, B. 60 n, 87–8, 108 nn, 116 n, 146, 180 n Halliwell, S. 10 n, 11 n, 70, 105 n Hardison, Jr., O.B. 11 n Heath, M. 17 n, 44, 98 n, 105 n, 163 n Hein, C. 25 n Heitz, E. 21 n, 35–45, 103, 125 n, 128 n, 132 n, 134 n, 135, 141, 145, 155, 180, 182 n, 184 Helmbold, W. 150 n Henderson, J. 145 n Henry, R. 180 n Hercher, R. 182 n Heubeck, A. 83 n, 101 n Hintenlang, H. viii, 10 n, 13 n, 14 n, 23 n, 91 n, 109, 116 n, 129 n, 134 n, 138–9, 154 n, 155, 161–2, 186 n, 188 n, 190 n, 191 n, 192 n Hinz, B. 171 Hoekstra, A. 83 n, 101 n Hope Simpson, R. 92 n, 93 n, 116 n Howes, G. 10 n Hugo, V. 12 n Hunt, A. 154–6 Huxley, G. viii n, 116 n, 129 n, 138 n, 139 n

Macleod, C.W. 66 n MacPhail, J. xxii, 4, 14 n, 21 n, 68 n, 98 n, 124 n, 125 nn, 126 nn, 127, 129 n, 162 n, 170 n Martano, A. 158 n, 159 nn, 162 nn, 163 n, 164 n, 165 n Matthaios, S. 5, 28 n Mayhew, R. vii n, viii n, xxii n, 19, 33 n, 39 n, 45 n, 50 n, 67 n, 74 n, 79 n, 145 n Mayor, A. 33 n Meeusen, M. xi, 30 n, 33 n, 61, 140 n Menn, S. xi, 31 n, 32 n, 33 n, 160 n, 166 n, 167 n Miller, E. 78 n Mirhady, D. 163 n, 164 n, 165 n Monro, D.B. 88 n Montanari, F. 154–7 Moraux, P. 25 n, 26 n, 30–2 Most, G. 190 n

Jacoby, F. 5 n Janko, R. xxi nn, 8 n, 9 n, 10 n, 11 n, 13 n, 17 n, 26 n, 27, 32, 37 nn, 43 n, 52 n, 54 n, 64 n, 74 n, 105 nn, 107 n, 108, 110 n, 111, 113 n, 114 n, 115, 118 n, 182 n, 184, 185 n, 187, 189 n Johnson, M. 29 n Kassel, R. 75 n, 82 n, 84 n, 94 nn, 100 n Kathirithamby, J. 174 nn Keaney, J.J. 88 n Kelly, A. 51 n Kirk, G.S. xxi n, 92 n, 101 n, 102 n, 107 n, 117 nn, 118 n, 119 n Lamberton, R. xix n, 3 n, 88 n, 143 n, 145, 170 n, 184 n, 185 n, 188 n, 189 n, 193 n Latte, K. 28 n Lazenby, J.F. 92 n, 93 n, 116 n Lehmann, O. 135 n, 146 n Lennox, J. 29 n, 70 n

Nagy, G. xi, xxi n Nicole, J. xxi, 144 n, 158 nn, 159 nn, 160 Nünlist, R. xxi n, 78 n, 89 n, 90 n, 102 n, 110 n Pagani, L. xi, xxii n, 180 nn, 185 n Pépin, J. 176 n, 177 n Pfeiffer, R. 3 n, 27 n, 28 n Platt, A. 150 n Podlecki, A.J. 164 n, 165 Pontani, F. xi, xxi–xxii, 3 n, 177 n Porter, J. 166 n Prince, S. 85 n Pusch, H. 78 n Radt, S. 116 n Rapp, C. 95, 99 n Rhodes, P.J. 190 n Richardson, N. 3 n, 4 n, 7 n, 66 n, 111 n, 139 n, 163 n, 166 Ridgeway, W. 124 n Rijksbaron, A. 6 n Römer, A. 10 n Rose, V. vii–viii, xxi, 25, 29 n, 30, 35, 45, 95 n, 103, 125 n, 126 n, 128, 132 n, 134–5, 141, 144 n, 145, 148 n, 150 n, 152, 154–5, 159 n, 182 nn, 184, 192 n

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 11/12/2018, SPi

220

Index Nominum

Rosenmeyer, T.G. 10 n, 11 n Russo, J. M. 44 Rutherford, R. 4 n, 7 n Sandbach, F.H. 61–2, 150 n Sanz Morales, M. 10 n Saunders, K. 51 n, 52 n Sauvé Meyer, S. 6 n Schenkeveld, D.M. 110 n Schmitt, A. 10 n, 17 n Schrader, H. xxii, 14 n, 21 n, 144 n, 162 n, 169 n, 192 n Sharples, R. 33 n Sider, D. xi, 37 n Slater, W. xxii n Sodano, A. R. viii n, xxii, 191 n Spina, L. 171 n Stallbaum, G. xxiii Steiner, D. 55 n Struck, P. 4 n Tarán, L. xxii, 13 n, 79 n, 110 nn, 112 n, 118 n Tomberg, K.-H. 179 n Tosi, R. 37 n Tucker, T.G. 11 n Valente, S. 28 nn van der Valk, M. xxiii, 88 n, 92 n, 119 n, 143 n, 145, 154 n, 161 n van Thiel, H. xxi, 134 n, 146 n, 191 n Verhasselt, G. 10 n, 13 n, 14 n Villoison, J.B.G. d’Ansse de. 134–5 von der Mühll, P. 191 n Wehrli, F. 158 nn, 159 nn, 162 nn, 163 nn, 164 nn, 165 West, M. L. 27 n, 54 n, 58 n, 69 n, 88, 92 n, 123 n Wilamowitz, U. 88 White, S. 28 n, 33 Whitmarsh, T. 3 n Wilson, M. 178 n, 183 n Wilson, N.G. xxii n, 179 n, 183

Homeric Characters Achilles 12 n, 15, 20, 23, 66, 67 n, 76–9, 86, 93, 99 n, 103, 123, 124 n, 126, 128–39, 153–7, 166 Aeneas 20, 156–7 Aeolus 58

Agamemnon 5 n, 16, 58, 96–7, 115, 126, 128, 137–9, 166, 191 Aglaïa 92, 94 Ajax 69, 87, 98 n Alexander; see Paris Alcinous 131, 133, 137 Alkimedon 119 Antilochus 50–1, 135 Aphrodite 54, 68, 167, 187 Apollo 4, 17, 53, 85, 107–8 Arete 131 Argos 13, 55–7, 73–4 Artemis 53, 59–60 Ares 130 n, 135, 157, 159–63, 167, 187 Asios 35 Athena 4–5, 12, 16, 22, 53 n, 68 n, 153, 155, 157, 167, 170 n Atlas 186 Autolycus 42, 58 Boreas 15 Briseus 138 Calchas 157 n, 170 n Calypso 17, 31, 90 n, 91 n, 109, 169, 186 Castor 13 Charops 92 Charybdis 169 n, 172, 188 Circe 32, 90 n, 91 n, 169 n, 170, 177, 188 Clymenus 65 Diomedes 5, 12, 68 n, 98, 124 n Diores 100, 102 Dolon 107–8 Eumaeus 55 Eurycleia 42, 44–5, 77 Ganymede 20, 27 Glaukos 124 n Harpalyce 65 Hector 12, 15, 23, 66, 77, 79, 87, 153 Hecuba 77–8 Helen 13–14, 76 Helios (the Sun) 32, 188–93 Hephaestus 6, 53, 153–5, 157, 187 Hera 6, 22, 53, 65, 153 Heracles 36, 38 Hermes 17, 53, 109

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 11/12/2018, SPi

Index Nominum Icarius 22 Idomeneus 35, 135 Ino 90–1 n Iris 148 Laertes 42–4 Lampetia 191–3 Leto 53 Meleager 81 Menelaus 22, 62–3, 69, 76, 135, 191 Meriones 135 Nemesis 68 n Nestor 180–1 Nireus 92–5

221

Paris 14, 22, 54, 98, 143–7, 152, 191 Patroclus 15, 35, 69, 76–7, 123 Penelope 22 n, 42 n, 44, 98 n Peiros 100 Philoitios 42–4 Polydeuces 13 Polyphemus 14, 32, 59–60, 83–5, 155 Poseidon 4, 14–15, 53, 85–6, 153, 155–7 Presbon 65 Priam 13–14, 66–7, 77, 79 Pylaemenes 135 Sarpedon 35 Scamander 53–4, 64, 153–5, 157 Scylla 79, 169, 172, 188 Sisyphus 99–101

Oineus 59 Odysseus 13, 16–17, 22, 31–2, 40–5, 55–7, 68 n, 72–6, 78–9, 83–6, 95–6, 98 n, 100, 104, 109, 131 n, 137, 166, 169 n, 170–2, 174, 177, 188–92

Telemachus 22, 62, 76 Thoön 50–2 Thoösa 14

Paiëon 90 Pandarus 22

Zeus 17, 20, 22, 53, 65–6, 68 n, 83 n, 87, 109, 127 n, 157–67, 177–9, 181–2, 184

Xanthus; see Scamander

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 11/12/2018, SPi

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 8/12/2018, SPi

General Index accentuation 18 n, 113 n, 114 allegorical interpretation viii, x, 4–9, 20 n, 23, 25 n, 57, 155, 166 n, 169–72, 175–6, 182–7, 189–93 ambiguity 19–21, 39, 192 ambrosia 17, 109, 169, 170 n, 177–8, 180–2, 184–7, 190 analogy 20, 95–103, 143, 192–3; see metaphor and simile animals: bees 71–2, 174 birds 39 n, 64–6, 67 n, 68 n, 71, 171, 178–9, 181 (see doves, eagles, and pigeons) pigs/boar 42, 59–62, 71 cattle/oxen/bulls 21, 31–2, 47–8, 58–9, 71, 73, 124 n, 129, 147–51, 169, 170 n, 185, 187–91 deer 12–13, 49 dogs 13, 55–7, 71–4, 108 donkeys 69, 98 n doves 116, 169–70, 177–90 eagles 18–19, 33 n, 39 n, 64–8 fish xxii n, 72 horses 10, 15, 49–50, 126, 128–34, 137–8, 140, 150, 176 lions 69–71, 74, 79, 98–9 mules 17, 107–8, 123, 137 pigeons 178, 181 sheep/lambs 53–4, 62–3, 71, 89, 188 wasps 71, 174 asyndeton 75, 91–4, 156 Catalogue of Ships 91–3, 98 n, 116–18 character 16, 78–9, 160–1 conjecture 4 n, 11 n, 17 n, 112 n; see emendation contradiction 5, 11, 18, 20–2, 28, 39, 58, 59 n, 97, 98 n, 108, 128, 139–40, 145, 148, 161–2, 165, 191–2 corpses xxii n, 23, 66, 77–9, 153 criticism 3–6, 9, 11, 22, 43–4, 50, 55 n, 57–8, 63 n, 77, 81, 84, 86, 90, 95, 106–8, 111–14, 139, 155–6, 161–7, 193 Cyclops 14, 32, 59–60, 83–6

dialect 28 n, 89, 106, 108–9, 112; see speech and language emendation 17 n, 18 n, 38, 51 n, 62–3, 74 n, 91 n, 126 nn, 130, 144 n, 145, 148 n, 158 nn, 159 nn, 160, 163–4 emotion 7–8, 75–88 anger 75, 80–6, 103 grief/lamentation 15, 75–85 indignation 76, 86–8 pity 87, 88 n, 101 n (see pain) epic vii, xxi, 3–9, 12–14, 28, 38, 74, 91 n, 105, 113, 129, 186 epithets 60, 75, 89–91, 110, 181 esthetic error 10–12, 16 n, 22, 49, 53, 57 fragments xxi–xxii, 13 n, 27, 28 n, 29, 35–7, 123, 134, 140–1, 152 gods 4, 5 n, 7–8, 14–15, 17, 20, 23, 30, 32, 53–4, 56, 64–6, 86–8, 90 n, 96, 109, 115, 153, 155, 157–8, 161, 163–7, 177, 180, 182–8, 193 horn 12–13, 49, 62–3, 99, 110, 143–52 implausibility 11 n, 12, 14 impossibility 11–13, 50, 73, 82, 111 inconsistency 23 n, 79, 97, 162, 167 interpretation viii–x, 4–6, 7 n, 9 n, 20 n, 23, 25 n, 55–7, 73, 135–6, 143–52, 169–72, 175–93; see allegorical interpretation inspiration 3, 7 language 10, 17–21, 75, 89, 106, 108 n, 111, 120, 161–2; see dialect and speech manuscripts vii, ix, xxi n, xxii, 19, 20 n, 21 n, 27 n, 30 n, 50 n, 60, 62, 78, 87, 100 n, 112 n, 123–6, 131 n, 132, 135 n, 140, 144 n, 146, 158 nn, 160, 162 n, 191 n

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 8/12/2018, SPi

224

General Index

metaphor 10, 17–18, 20–2, 59, 69, 75, 89, 95–106, 110, 143–5, 149, 151 n, 152, 176, 192–3 myth 15, 32–3, 56, 65, 91 n, 170–9, 181–3, 186–7 nectar 17, 20 n, 109

reversal 40–2 rivers 36 n, 37–8, 53–4, 64, 153 scholia vii–ix, xxi–xxiii, 12, 14 n, 16 n, 21 n, 28, 33 n, 78 n, 89 n, 102–3, 123–41, 145 n, 158–9, 161 n, 165 n, 188 n, 192 simile 95 n, 96 n, 99; see analogy and metaphor Sirens 169–77 speech 10, 20, 90–3, 106, 111–13, 115 n; see dialect and language Sun 21, 31–2, 169–70, 178–9, 183–5, 187–93 synecdoche 95, 143, 149 n

pain 56, 75–82 painting 10, 12–13, 49–50 papyrus ix, 37 n, 45, 153–7, 187 plot 9, 40–1, 57, 179 n problem (problêma) vii n, ix–x, 9–23, 25–6, 29–31, 33, 39, 44, 52–4, 59 n, 61, 63, 68, 74, 84–6, 88–91, 96–8, 101, 105–9, 111–12, 116, 120, 123, 127–9, 133, 136–40, 148, 150, 153–5, 162, 177, 180, 185, 189 n, 190–3 pronunciation; see accentuation punctuation 19

Teichoscopy 13–14 Theomachy 4, 153–67, 169 titles vii–viii, 9, 25–33, 172 tragedy 8, 12 n, 13, 105–6, 118 trees 35–9

recognition 40–5, 56, 105 n repetition 75, 91–4

wine 17, 20, 58–9, 107, 109, 111, 160–1