The New Politics of Olympos: Kingship in Kallimachos' Hymns 0190059265, 9780190059262

The New Politics of Olympos explores the dynamics of praise, power, and persuasion in Kallimachos' hymns, detailing

396 42 2MB

English Pages 320 [303] Year 2019

Report DMCA / Copyright

DOWNLOAD FILE

Polecaj historie

The New Politics of Olympos: Kingship in Kallimachos' Hymns
 0190059265, 9780190059262

Table of contents :
Title_Pages
Dedication
Figures
Acknowledgments
Editions_and_Abbreviations
IntroductionKallimachos_and_the_Politics_of_Praise
Zeus_as_a_Paradigm_for_Dynastic_Continuity
Kallimachos_Hymn_On_Kingship
The_Poetics_of_Praise_in_the_Hymn_to_Zeus
Apollo_as_a_New_Paradigm_for_Kingship
Saviors_Tyrants_and_the_Poetics_of_Empire
On_the_Good_Queen
ConclusionOn_the_Good_King_According_to_Kallimachos
Bibliography
Index_Locorum
Subject_Index

Citation preview

The New Politics of Olympos

The New Politics of Olympos Kingship in Kallimachos’ Hymns M IC HA E L B RUM BAU G H

1

3 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 certain other countries. Published in the United States of America by Oxford University Press 198 Madison Avenue, New York, NY 10016, United States of America. © Oxford University Press 2019 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 license, or under terms agreed with the appropriate reproduction rights organization. Inquiries 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. Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data Names: Brumbaugh, Michael Everett, 1982– author. Title: The new politics of Olympos : kingship in Kallimachos’ hymns / by Michael Brumbaugh. Description: New York, NY : Oxford University Press, [2019] | Includes bibliographical references Identifiers: LCCN 2019012355 | ISBN 9780190059262 (hardback) | ISBN 9780190059286 (ebook other) | ISBN 9780190059279 (ebook other) Subjects: LCSH: Callimachus. Hymns. | Gods, Greek, in literature. | Kings and rulers in literature. | Politics in literature. | Greece—Politics and government—To 146 B.C. Classification: LCC PA5319. K27 Z54 2019 | DDC 880 .9/002—dc23 LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2019012355 1 3 5 7 9 8 6 4 2 Printed by Sheridan Books, Inc., United States of America The New Politics of Olympos: Kingship in Kallimachos’ Hymns. Michael Brumbaugh, Oxford University Press (2019). © Oxford University Press. DOI: 10.1093/oso/ 9780190059262.001.0001

For my parents and In loving memory of Lola Brumbaugh (1938–​2018)

Figures 1.1 Silver tetradrachm minted at Alexandria, issued by Ptolemy I on or after 294/​3. Ob.: Bust of Ptolemy I. Re.: Eagle clutching a thunderbolt with legend “ΠΤΟΛΕΜΑΙΟΥ ΒΑΣΙΛΕΩΣ.”

30

1.2 Gold mnaieion (=octadrachm) minted at Alexandria, issued by Ptolemy II c.272-​–​260. Re.: Jugate busts of Ptolemy I and Berenike I with legend “ΘΕΩΝ;” Ob.: Jugate busts of Ptolemy II and Arsinoë II with legend “ΑΔΕΛΦΩΝ.” 31 2.1 A composite hierarchy incorporating Kallimachos’ three sets of patron/​client lists.

68

The New Politics of Olympos: Kingship in Kallimachos’ Hymns. Michael Brumbaugh, Oxford University Press (2019). © Oxford University Press. DOI: 10.1093/oso/ 9780190059262.001.0001

Acknowledgments It is a great pleasure to have the opportunity to register my gratitude to the many people and institutions who have had a hand in midwifing this book to completion. This book began as a dissertation at the University of California, Los Angeles (UCLA). The initial focus of that project was genre and praise rhetoric in the Greek hymn, but ultimately it became a study of Kallimachos’ engagement with the earlier hymnic tradition. My first introduction to Hellenistic poetry came from a seminar on the Argonautika, which Greg Thalmann helmed as he was preparing Apollonius of Rhodes and the Spaces of Hellenism (Oxford 2011). Some years after that seminar Greg generously agreed to serve as an outside reader on my dissertation committee. Early in graduate school I  took seminars on papyrology and Kallimachos’ Hymns from Michael Haslam whose knowledge of Greek and rigorous attention to detail deepened my appreciation for the complexities of textual transmission and the poet’s manipulation of language. At the same time, Sarah Morris’ seminar on the literary and material accounts of the Trojan War taught me to appreciate the dynamic interplay between textual and material evidence in reconstructing the narratives that pervaded the ancient world. Michael and Sarah then jointly supervised my M.A. thesis on Apollonios and Hesiod, which allowed me to explore the arte allusiva and its interpretive consequences. No less formative were seminars from Amy Richlin on the theory of Roman history and from David Blank on Empedokles and later on Heraklitos’ Homeric Problems. These experiences not only added to my methodological toolkit, but they impressed on me the importance of looking for evidence beyond the cannon and outside established disciplinary lanes. Alex Purves generously shared drafts of her work and responded to my many queries long before I even applied to UCLA. As an advisor on my dissertation, she opened my eyes to further nuances of poetic language and continually inspired me to explore new approaches to old problems. It would be difficult to overstate the extraordinary impact Kathryn Morgan has had on me, my thinking about Greek literature, and my career more broadly. As Doktormutter she swiftly shepherded me through the dissertation process while still devoting a seemingly infinite amount of attention to reading The New Politics of Olympos: Kingship in Kallimachos’ Hymns. Michael Brumbaugh, Oxford University Press (2019). © Oxford University Press. DOI: 10.1093/oso/ 9780190059262.001.0001

xiv Acknowledgments my work and probing my arguments. Her expertise in the politics of praise guided my early attempts at marrying together the literary and historical strands of my project. There are of course numerous others from the UCLA community of faculty and students who deserve thanks, especially fellow graduate students Peter Weller, Rob Groves, Suzanne Lye, Charlie Stein, Emily Rush, Craig Russell, and Brian Walters. Brian’s critical eye and good humor have never flagged throughout the years of our friendship. I am grateful to Tulane University, the School of Liberal Arts, and the Department of Classical Studies for supporting my work as this monograph took shape. A junior research leave, Lavin Bernick Grant, Lurcy Grant, and Faculty Networking Grant provided me time and access to resources necessary to complete this project. I have learned much from Ryan Boehm, who has been an invaluable reader, sounding board, and friend through every step over the past six years. Dennis Kehoe read multiple drafts of nearly every chapter at a critical time as the project neared completion. The Loeb Classical Library Foundation, the Fondation Hardt, and the Getty Research Institute also supported the researching and writing of this book. My time at Reed College and Princeton University was also instrumental to the development of this project, and I want to thank Nigel Nicholson, Yelena Baraz, Joshua Katz, Bob Kaster, Denis Feeney, Marc Domingo Gygax, Casper de Jonge, and Richard Hunter. At Colgate University, Drew Keller taught me Greek and Naomi Rood generously spent a semester reading the Theogony with me as an independent study during her first year on the faculty. Drew and Naomi co-​directed my thesis on Hesiod, a chapter of which Bill Stull helped me revise for presentation at my first meeting of the American Philological Association. Their mentorship and friendship has endured long after I graduated. Among the colleagues at other institutions who have contributed to my work along the way, I would be remiss not to mention Jacco Dieleman, Willy Clarysse, Joachim Quack, Rachel Mairs, Rolf Strootman, Catherine Lorber, Benjamin Acosta-​Hughes, and James Clauss. Ivana Petrovic read an early draft of the entire manuscript and provided thorough notes that were especially helpful as I worked through future drafts. The anonymous readers who reviewed my manuscript for the press offered useful criticisms that helped me clarify my arguments. I thank Stefan Vranka for his patient guidance along with Richa Jobin, Leslie Safford, Isabelle Prince, and the entire team at OUP New York. Hannah Kent came through in the final days of the project to help with indexing and proofing.

Acknowledgments  xv My deepest gratitude is reserved for my friends and family who have sustained me through the writing of this book and the formative years that led up to it. Although they hardly could have guessed that their labors would bear such fruit, it is to my parents that I dedicate this book. Above all, my wife, Lane, deserves more credit than even she knows for her devotion and encouragement through the most difficult parts of this project. Despite the demands of her own career, she shouldered burdens I could not carry. My debt to her is beyond measure.

Editions and Abbreviations Except where otherwise noted I cite Kallimachos’ Aitia from the edition of Harder, Kallimachos’ other works from the edition of Pfeiffer, Homer and the Homeric Hymns from the OCT of Monro and Allen, Hesiod from the editions of M.L. West, and Pindar from the Teubner edition of Snell-​Maehler. A-​B Agora XVI AP BM

Braswell CA CPE D-​K FGE FGrH Harder Hollis G-​P I.Cret. I.Delos I.Didyma I.Ephesos

C. Austin and G. Bastianini. Posidippi Pellaei Quae Supersunt Omnia. Milan 2002. A. G. Woodhead. The Athenian Agora, XVI. Inscriptions: The Decrees. Princeton 1997. Palatine Anthology. W. G. Lambert and A. R. Millard. Catalogue of the Cuneiform Tablets in the Kouyunjik Collection of the British Museum: Second Supplement. London 1968. B. K. Braswell. Didymos of Alexandria: Commentary on Pindar. Basel 2017. J. U. Powell. Collectanea Alexandrina. Oxford 1925. C. Lorber. Coins of the Ptolemaic Empire: Part I, Ptolemy I through Ptolemy IV. New York 2018. H. Diels and W. Kranz. Die Fragmente der Vorsokratiker, 6th ed., 3 vols. Berlin 1951–​52. D. L. Page. Further Greek Epigrams, rev. R. D. Dawe and J. Diggle. Cambridge 1981. F. Jacoby. Die Fragmente der griechischen Historiker. Berlin, then Leiden  1923–​. A. Harder. Callimachus: Aetia, 2 vols. Oxford 2012. A. S. Hollis. Callimachus: Hecale, 2nd ed. Oxford 2009. A. S. F. Gow and D. L. Page, The Greek Anthology 1: Hellenistic Epigrams, 2 vols. Cambridge 1965. M. Guarducci. Inscriptiones Creticae. Rome 1935–​50. Inscriptions de Délos, 7 vols. Paris 1926–​72. A. Rehm. Didyma, II. Die Inschriften, hrsg. von R.Harder. Berlin 1958. H. Wankel, R. Merkelbach et al. Die Inschriften von Ephesos, I–​ VII (IGSK 11–​17). Bonn 1979–​84.

The New Politics of Olympos: Kingship in Kallimachos’ Hymns. Michael Brumbaugh, Oxford University Press (2019). © Oxford University Press. DOI: 10.1093/oso/ 9780190059262.001.0001

xviii  Editions and Abbreviations I.Sestos IG J-​vL K-​A Lascaris LSJ

M-​W OGIS Pf. PMG P.Mich.Zen. P.Oxy. P.Rev.Laws P.Sorb. Radt Rose S-​M SEG SH SVF Svoronos Syll.3 Voigt Wehrli

J. Krauss. Die Inschriften von Sestos und der thrakischen Chersones (IGSK 19). Bonn 1980. Inscriptiones Graecae. Berlin 1873–​. F. Jouan and H. van Looy. Euripide. Tome VIII: Fragments, 4 vols. Paris 1998–​2003. R. Kassel and C. Austin. Poetae Comici Graeci. Berlin 1983–​91. J. Lascaris. Callimachi Cyrenaei Hymni. Florence 1494–​96. H. G. Liddell, R. Scott, and H. Stuart Jones. A Greek-​English-​ Lexicon. Oxford 1951 (9th edition with a revised supplement by P. G. W. Glare and A. A. Thompson. Oxford 1996). R. Merkelbach and M. L. West. Fragmenta Hesiodea. Oxford 1967. W. Dittenberger, Orientis Graeci Inscriptiones Selectee. Leipzig 1903–​05. R. Pfeiffer. Callimachus, 2 vols. Oxford 1949–​53. D. L. Page. Poetae Melici Graeci. Oxford 1962. C. C. Edgar. Zenon Papyri in the University of Michigan Collection. Ann Arbor 1931. The Oxyrhynchus Papyri. London 1898–​. B. P. Grenfell. Revenue Laws of Ptolemy Philadelphus. Oxford 1896. H. Cadell. Papyrus de la Sorbonne. Paris 1966. S. Radt. Tragicorum Graecorum Fragmenta, vol. 3: Aeschylus. Göttingen 1985. V. Rose. Aristotelis qui ferebantur librorum fragmenta. Leipzig 1886. B. Snell and H. Maehler. Pindarus. Leipzig 1984–​89. Supplementum Epigraphicum Graecum. Leiden 1923–​. H. Lloyd-​Jones and P. Parsons. Supplementum Hellenisticum. Berlin 1983. I. von Arnim. Stoicorum veterum fragmenta, 3 vols. Leipzig 1903–​05. J. N. Svoronos. Ta Nomismata tou Kratous ton Ptolemaiôn, 4 vols. Athens 1904–​08. W. Dittenberger. Sylloge inscriptionum graecarum, 3rd ed. Leipzig 1915–​24. E.-​M. Voigt. Sappho et Alcaeus. Fragmenta. Amsterdam 1971. F. Wehrli. Die Schule des Aristoteles, Texte und Kommentar, vol. 4: Demetrios von Phaleron. Basel 1968.

 Introduction Kallimachos and the Politics of Praise

This book is a study of the ways in which Kallimachos used hymns praising the Olympian gods to shape a political discourse on kingship emerging in the Hellenistic world. In it, I investigate how the poet crafts compelling new portrayals of the gods that refigure the politics of the divine family. In the new political order he depicts, Kallimachos virtually eliminates the harmful strife traditionally associated with these figures, reframing the gods as good kings and queens within the idiom of contemporary politics. Not only does Kallimachos depict these gods as pro-​dynastic exemplars of good governance, but he also engages his audience in discourses on the nature of power, just rule, reciprocity, transgression, and punishment, as well as the roles of kings, queens, and poets. In dialogue with a range of literary texts from the archaic, classical, and indeed contemporary periods, Kallimachos renegotiates the political dynamics of the Olympian gods who serve as paradigms for his ideology. I argue that this “new politics of Olympos” constitutes Kallimachos’ effort to shape the political discourse emerging within and between the courts of Hellenistic superpowers. His hymns for the gods define what is praiseworthy and set the agenda for a conversation about power at the dawning of a new political phenomenon—​Hellenistic kingship. Despite having written numerous explicit praises of Ptolemaic kings and queens,1 Kallimachos makes only one such unambiguous reference in his Hymns—​to Ptolemy II in the Hymn to Delos. Nonetheless, Kallimachos does include references in his hymns to figures outside the texts whose specific identities are obscure to us but may have been clear to contemporary audiences. Most scholars have imagined, for example, that “our lord” (1.86)2 1 Kallimachos’ praises of the powerful include Epinikia for the Panhellenic victories of queen Berenike II and the courtier Sosibios, epithalamia for the marriages of Ptolemy II to Arsinoë II and Ptolemy III to Berenike II, an Ektheosis for Arsinoë II (fr. 228 Pf.), and the famed Lock of Berenike (fr. 110 Harder). 2 1.85–​86: ἔοικε δὲ τεκμήρασθαι /​ἡμετέρῳ μεδέοντι. The three candidates scholars usually consider are Ptolemy I Soter: Carrière 1969 and Hussey 1973; Magas of Kyrene: Meillier 1979:61–​78 and The New Politics of Olympos: Kingship in Kallimachos’ Hymns. Michael Brumbaugh, Oxford University Press (2019). © Oxford University Press. DOI: 10.1093/oso/ 9780190059262.001.0001

2 Introduction and “my king” (2.26, 27)3 are discrete references to specific individuals whose identities need to be uncovered. A similar instinct has led readers to identify this or that god in connection with a prominent individual: for example, associating Apollo in the fourth hymn closely with Ptolemy II Philadelphos4 or Athena and Demeter in the fifth and sixth hymns with Berenike II.5 Such interpretations have been bolstered by Kallimachos’ explicit praises of these same figures in other works and the historical practice of kings and queens exploiting the images of Olympic gods for their own self-​representation.6 In this book, I argue that, often, the openness of these and other nonspecific or ambiguous references allows them to be fluid and thus more powerful signifiers. Furthermore, the relationship between such references and referents is complex because it is not one of sameness. For Kallimachos and his contemporaries, the issue, to which Richard Hunter has called attention, was the degree to which such figures are similar.7 In his Hymns, Kallimachos explores the notion of “likeness,” testing its boundaries and usefulness as a heuristic and persuasive tool. This emerges as a central theme in this study as I examine a variety of dyadic relationships of similarity, imitation, and substitution: Zeus and Ptolemy (Chapter 1), father and son (Chapters 1 and 5), brother and sister (Chapters 4 and 6), father and daughter (Chapter 6), patron and client (Chapters 2, and 4),8 and a hymn’s honorand and the hymn itself as a representation of that honorand (Chapters  3 and 4).9 Indeed,

Laronde 1987:366; and Ptolemy II Philadelphos: Richter 1871, Rostagni 1916:58–​59, Cahen 1930, Tandy 1979, Clauss 1986, Cameron 1995:10, Stephens 2003:77ff. McLennan 1977 and Hopkinson 1984b abstain. 3 Pfeiffer 1949.II:xxxviii–​xxxix accepts the identification in the scholia vetera of ἐμῷ βασιλῆι as Ptolemy Euergetes, but most scholars generally prefer Ptolemy Philadelphos (e.g., Williams 1978:36). Cameron 1995:408–​9 suggests Magas of Kyrene. 4 E.g., Giuseppetti 2013:14 describes Philadelphos in the Hymn to Delos as an “alter Apollo,” following a parallel discussion of Theokritos’ Hymn to Ptolemy Philadelphos in Hunter 2003:143. cf. Miller 2010 on Augustus and Apollo. 5 E.g., Clayman 2014:80–​89. 6 E.g., Smith 1988, Stanwick 2002, Eckstein 2009, and especially Müller 2009. 7 Hunter and Fuhrer 2002:168–​69 raise the issue and Hunter 2003:94–​103 examines it in greater detail. Likewise, remarking on Theokritos, Griffiths 1979:57 reminds us, “If the Ptolemies are to make it onto Olympus in these poems, they must as listeners do so on the strength of their own imaginative energy. Theocritus does not assert that Arsinoe is Helen, nor Philadelphus Heracles. But in hearing these poems, the patrons should find it remarkably easy to think of themselves in those terms.” See too Prioux 2012. 8 I borrow these terms from social science research (e.g., Abercrombie and Hill 1976, Eisenstadt and Roniger 1984) to describe the paradigmatic relationship Kallimachos establishes between Zeus and the king, Apollo and the poets, Ares and the warrior, etc. Although these terms are normally construed within the context of Roman social customs, I use them to refer to a sociological and political framework of a dyadic codependency based on inequality. 9 See Bergren 1982 and Depew 2000.

Kallimachos and the Politics of Praise  3 Kallimachos presents the concept of “likeness” to his audience in a variety of guises, including paradeigma (Chapter  1), equivalence (Chapter  2 and 4), metaphor (Chapter 3), and analogy (Chapters 4 and 6). The similarity of these pairs is balanced against contrastive dyads, including the client and the transgressor (Chapters 4 and 6) and the good and the bad ruler (Chapters 5 and 6). An important effect of these dyads is to create a dichotomy between “us” and “them,” which draws the audience into alignment with the narrator and contributes to his overall agenda of presenting an authoritative and persuasive account of good kingship. Several scholars have offered political readings of Kallimachos’ hymns individually or in combination, but there has been little detailed discussion of how their juxtaposition within the poetry book changes their meaning by altering their frame of reference. Although there are countless instances where I  might have extended my analysis to incorporate related issues in other works of Kallimachos and his contemporaries, I endeavored to maintain a tight focus on the Hymns and its six poems. Nevertheless, in ways both large and small, my analysis follows a course charted by a range of important studies on Kallimachos,10 Theokritos,11 Apollonios,12 and now Posidippos,13 which have brought the study of Hellenistic poetry and politics into the mainstream.14 Moreover, studies of Kallimachos’ various engagements with the Greek literary and religious traditions have provided a variety of ways of thinking about key issues, including his manipulation of earlier versions of myths, experimentation with narrative technique, and interest in epichoric history and cult throughout the oikoumene.15 In addition to drawing on a wide range of studies on earlier praise poetry, my approach builds on the

10 Cameron 1995, Stephens 1998, and Acosta-​Hughes and Stephens 2012. 11 Especially Griffiths 1979, Hunter 1996, and Hunter 2003. 12 In addition to Clauss 1993, Hunter 1993, and Thalmann 2011, Mori 2008a is crucial in this regard because her analysis of Apollonios’ Argonautika within the context of the Ptolemaic court is foundational not merely for that poem, but more broadly for providing a compelling argument and methodology for reading Hellenistic narratives in contexts beyond the Library. Her discussion of the history of scholarship on the “Politics of Alexandrian Poetry” (pp. 19–​51) is thorough and similarly illuminating. 13 E.g., Bing 2002–​3, Kosmetatou 2004, Fantuzzi 2005, Thompson 2005, McKechnie 2013, and Petrovic 2014. 14 Pioneering work expanding the contexts in which Hellenistic poetry can now be studied includes Koenen 1983 and 1993, Weber 1993, and Stephens 2003. 15 In addition to those already mentioned, Bing 1988, Fantuzzi and Hunter 2004, Morrison 2007, Petrovic 2007, Harder 2012, and Acosta-​Hughes and Stephens 2012 stand out from an increasingly rich bibliography along with a wealth of important edited volumes: Harder, Regtuit, and Wakker 1993, Harder, Regtuit, and Wakker 2002, Lehnus 2002, Martina and Cozzoli 2006, Acosta-​Hughes, Lehnus, and Stephens 2011, and Martina, Cozzoli, and Giuseppetti 2012.

4 Introduction work of Jenny Strauss Clay, who brought a new focus to the study of the Homeric Hymns in her book The Politics of Olympus (1989). Clay identified a preoccupation that all of the major hymns had with working out the dynamics of the divine family that underpinned Zeus’ role as king of gods and men. The expression of those politics, Clay demonstrates, belonged to an emerging archaic discourse on Panhellenism. Unlike those hymns, variously composed by unknown persons in unknown places at unknown dates, Kallimachos’ praises of the gods make for a more cohesive collection. In the spirit of Clay’s study, my project attempts to situate this book of hymns within a rich discourse emerging in dialogue with new political realities of the Hellenistic age.16

Kallimachos and His World While today Kallimachos is primarily associated with the newness and innovation of Ptolemaic Alexandria and its legendary Library and Mouseion, the poet’s own self-​fashioning regularly emphasized his origins from the celebrated Greek polis of Kyrene on the Libyan coast. In his epigrams he boasts of a lineage that can be traced all the way back to Kyrene’s founder-​king Battos. Evidence that his grandfather and namesake was a distinguished Kyrenean general and his sister, Megatima, married into an elite family of Kypriot generals and governors bolsters the aristocratic pedigree he claims.17 Founded in 631 bce by Dorians from Thera and possibly Rhodes,18 Kyrene was a prominent polis whose legendary foundation and subsequent history inspired Panhellenic interest, as can be seen in the accounts of Pindar, Herodotos, the fourth-​century Kyrenean “Stele of the Founders,” Aristotle, Kallimachos, the Lindian Chronicle, Strabo, Diodoros, and Pausanias.19 These and other 16 Depew 2004 and Petrovic 2016 are similarly interested in interpreting the macro-​text of the Hymns within its historical contexts. 17 Cameron 1995:7–​9 details the evidence for Kallimachos’ family, including Ep. 30 G-​P = 35 Pf. on his Battiad lineage and 29 G-​P = 21 Pf. on his grandfather. Acosta-​Hughes and Stephens 2012:3–​4 add details about an extremely wealthy great-​grandfather whom sources portray as close to Plato. Meillier 1979:335–​37 includes a hypothetical family tree. 18 While most accounts, including Kallimachos’ own, describe a colonial lineage running from Kyrene to Thera to Sparta, the Lindians claim to have been among the initial colonists (Lindian Chronicle XVII.109–​17). Uhlenbrock 2015:148–​49 argues that the early pottery evidence from Kyrene proves extensive contact with Rhodes and may corroborate the Lindian claim. On the Lindian Temple Chronicle of 99 bce, see Higbie 2003. 19 Pindar:  Pythian 4, 5, 9; Herodotos:  4.145–​59; the most recent edition of the “Stele of the Founders” (SEG IX.3) is Dobias-​Lalou 1994; Aristotle:  Politics 1319b1–​19; Kallimachos:  Hymn to Apollo 65–​96; on the Lindian Chronicle, see Higbie 2003; Strabo 17.3.21; Diodoros 8.29; and

Kallimachos and the Politics of Praise  5 sources record that over the next two centuries, the rule of the Battiad kings was tested repeatedly by conflict with native Libyans and Egyptians, infighting in the royal family, and ultimately popular uprisings that led to civil war. From the severe autocracy under Arkesilaos III described by Herodotos (4.162–​64) to the radical democracy cited by Aristotle (Politics 1319b1–​19), Kyrenean elites saw their fortunes rise and fall as political volatility led to repeated constitutional reform.20 Born during the final decade of the fourth century, Kallimachos’ early life coincided with a period of intense turmoil in Kyrene when the polis suffered several invasions and at least two revolts as democratic and oligarchic factions vied for control.21 In a compromise that eventually brought an end to the stasis, Ptolemy I instituted a timocratic constitution that restored the oligarchy, but dramatically expanded it (e.g., the principal ruling body was enlarged from 1,000 to 10,000). Although he reserved supreme authority for himself and his stepson, Magas, the governor in Kyrene from 301, Ptolemy essentially left the polis to govern itself internally through a mix of civic bodies and magistrates (e.g., gerousia, boule, ephoria). A copy of this new political charter, known as the diagramma of Ptolemy (SEG 9.1), was erected prominently in the sanctuary of Apollo at the center of Kyrenean civic life.22 While there is no chronicle of Kallimachos’ early years, it is reasonable to assume that this political strife and the subsequent Ptolemaic intervention would have had a tremendous impact on his family’s fortunes and, as such, would have been formative for the future poet. Although Kallimachos’ aristocratic family traced its bloodline to a legendary dynasty of Battiad kings, the poet’s own birth coincided closely with that of a radically different mode of kingship. This new political phenomenon would come to have an enormous impact on the trajectory of his life and work. Little is known about Kallimachos’ activities before he appeared in his early twenties at the royal court in Alexandria around 285. He may have remained in Kyrene where the Kyrenaic school of philosophy was at its

Pausanias 10.15.6–​7. For further ancient sources on the Greek presence in Libya, see Austin 2008 and Giangiulio 2001. On the literary narratives, see too Calame 2003, Malkin 1994:143–​52, 169–​81, and Malkin 1987. 20 Robinson 2011:129–​36. 21 Acosta-​Hughes and Stephens 2012:3–​4 suggest that most studies place his birth c.305 but allow that it might have been as early as 320. 22 Scott 2013:14–​44 charts political upheaval in Kyrene alongside developments in the agora. Robinson 2011:132n.204 cautions that the diagramma is still largely antidemocratic due to its imposition of property qualifications on would-​be participants in the political system.

6 Introduction apogee, used family connections to gain a position in Alexandria as a “youth of the court” (T 4c Pf.), or even traveled abroad for his education.23 Once Kallimachos did finally come into the orbit of the Ptolemaic royal court, he did not hesitate to engage directly with the most important figures there.24 Kallimachos found himself in a position to use praise of superpowerful men, women, and gods to shape messages about the nature of their power and its just application. Since praise deemed to be false was seen as shameful flattery, Kallimachos needed to persuade the Ptolemies and his broader audience that his complimentary accounts were true. To achieve this, he constructed his own authoritative persona by exploiting his mastery of encomiastic rhetoric and detailed knowledge of the Greek literary tradition. Indeed, this expertise appears to have propelled Kallimachos to a position of prominence, enabling him to exert influence over the preservation, ordering, and consumption of knowledge and culture in Alexandria and beyond. Disentangling the historical individual from his narrators’ personae and his posthumous reputation remains a challenge for scholars attempting to trace Kallimachos’ biography from his origins in Kyrene to the influence he exerted over the institutions taking shape in Alexandria.25 While he ultimately came to be seen as emblematic of the Alexandrian Library and Mouseion, conflicting clues obscure his role there. Indeed, the histories of these Ptolemaic institutions remain highly lacunose and everyone from the Romans to the present day has supplemented historical fact with concepts of how libraries function in their own time.26 The newness of the Ptolemaic capital—​not to mention the entire “Hellenistic” enterprise—​dominates the interpretation of Kallimachos’ work, often to the exclusion of his own heritage as a citizen of a venerable Greek polis and a descendent of its founder and storied royal dynasty.27 23 The earliest event linking Kallimachos to the Ptolemaic court is the ceremony celebrating joint rule of Ptolemy I Soter and Ptolemy II Philadelphos in 285 or its one-​year anniversary in 284; see further discussion in Chapter 2. For discussion of the intervening years and the competing traditions of Kallimachos as a schoolmaster in Eleusis (probably a slanderous claim) or a junior courtier (plausible but uncertain), see Acosta-​Hughes and Stephens 2012:3 and Cameron 1995:4–​8. 24 See Weber 2011 for elaboration of Kallimachos’ activities at court. 25 Acosta-​Hughes and Stephens 2012:1–​22 offer the most penetrating survey of the evidence for his biography to date, though Cameron 1995 remains essential. See Vamvouri Ruffy 2004:217–​84 and Morrison 2007:103–​220 on the personae of Kallimachos’ narrators. 26 See Hendrickson 2014, Johnstone 2014, Handis 2013, and Bagnall 2002 for cautionary critiques. Johnstone 2014 is perhaps too extreme in some of his conclusions, but it is worth taking note of his claim that “the history of the Library of Alexandria takes its place as one strand in this decentralized revolution happening from Athens to Babylon and in many places in between” (p. 349). 27 Acosta-​Hughes and Stephens 2012 draw on Kyrenean contexts for interpretation of Kallimachos’ work, but their perspective remains largely Alexandria-​centric.

Kallimachos and the Politics of Praise  7 Beyond what can be inferred from his richly allusive poetry, Kallimachos’ intimate knowledge of the Greek literary tradition is evidenced also in his scholarship—​especially the now lost Pinakes.28 The Suda gives the full title for this 120-​volume work as Tables of Men Distinguished in Every Branch of Learning and their Works. In it, Kallimachos recorded authors, titles, and incipits, along with details about the historical events related to those works. This endeavor put Kallimachos at the forefront of a scholarly enterprise that would continue for centuries, as he performed critical exegesis by arranging and classifying the texts being collected in Alexandria in unprecedented quantities.29 In addition to mythographic and lexical idiosyncrasies, Kallimachos appears to have taken more than a casual interest in the historical contexts of the poetry he read, as can be seen from his treatment of Pindar. Pouring in from multiple sources and often in duplicate, the initial collection of Pindaric poetry must have been enormous. Although Aristophanes of Byzantion is credited with making the first critical edition of the Theban poet’s works, in order to produce his Pinakes Kallimachos had to organize the voluminous and diverse oeuvre into a corpus. This would have involved eliminating duplicate and pseudonymous texts and arranging the scores of authentic poems into discrete, ordered bookrolls. Himself the author of a separate work On Contests (Περὶ Ἀγώνων, fr. 403 Pf.), Kallimachos grouped together several of Pindar’s poems into bookrolls corresponding to four major Panhellenic contests and is likely the originator of that organizational scheme. Indeed, the headnote to a hymn for Hieron of Syracuse, which we know today as Pythian 2, criticizes Kallimachos because he assigned the poem to the Nemean bookroll.30 If as an editor and a reader, Kallimachos saw such historical considerations as relevant to the organization and interpretation of Pindar’s poetry, then we should expect no less from his own compositions.

28 Hatzimichali 2013, Krevans 2011:122–​24, and Blum 1991. See Hadjimichael 2014:88–​93 for a discussion of Kallimachos’ classification practice as evidenced in P.Oxy. 2368. Harder 2013 discusses ways in which the Library may have had an impact on Kallimachos and other Hellenistic poets. 29 Porro 2009:186–​88. Aristophanes of Byzantion wrote a treatise On Kallimachos’ Pinakes, on which see Slater 1986. 30 Drachmann II 31.10–​14. It is attractive to credit Kallimachos with the invention of this classification, but ultimately speculative; see Lowe 2006:171–​72. On Kallimachos’ contribution to the editing of the Pindaric corpus, see Negri 2004:13–​15 and Irigoin 1952:33. Günther 1999, Fuhrer 1992, Newman 1985, and Fuhrer 1988 detail Kallimachos’ interest in the Theban poet. On Pindar and Hellenistic eidography, see Lowe 2006 and Harvey 1955.

8 Introduction

Literary Discourses on Kingship Plutarch’s collection of anecdotes known as Sayings of Kings and Commanders has it that Demetrios of Phaleron, one-​time ruler of Athens and later counselor to Ptolemy I  Soter, advised the king to acquire books on kingship and leadership and study them carefully. The reason was that even a king’s intimates would not directly confront him with the advice that is written in such books.31 Similarly, Plutarch informs us that Alexander the Great put stock in the leadership lessons that could be gleaned from literature. The ambitious king reportedly slept with an annotated copy of Homer’s Iliad, which he called his “resource for military excellence.”32 Though these claims may well be apocryphal, they speak to a long tradition of intellectuals portraying themselves as engaged in discourse with powerful rulers. More to the point, they are particularly apt for the Ptolemaic court, where the acquisition and study of books was central to the imperial ideology that emerged in the third century.33 Should Ptolemy have been interested in studying books on kingship, he would have had a variety to choose from, since treatises On Kingship (Περὶ Βασιλείας) became prevalent in the Hellenistic period.34 The popularity of such works was intimately bound up with the rise of a new political reality born out of Philip’s and then Alexander’s ambition for Makedonian hegemony. Following Alexander’s Successors’ move to adopt the title of “king” (basileus) in 306/​5, intellectuals, both celebrated and obscure, engaged with the contemporary political landscape by writing kingship treatises. Some of these were dedicated to individual rulers, as Diogenes Laertios records in the case of Euphantos of Olynthos, “who wrote about contemporary history; he composed several tragedies for which he won esteem at the festivals; he was a teacher of even King Antigonos [II Gonatas], for whom he also wrote an extremely popular treatise On Kingship.”35 There is a strong tendency to classify 31 Plutarch Moralia 189d6–​9:  Δημήτριος ὁ Φαληρεὺς Πτολεμαίῳ τῷ βασιλεῖ παρῄνει τὰ περὶ βασιλείας καὶ ἡγεμονίας βιβλία κτᾶσθαι καὶ ἀναγινώσκειν· “ἃ γὰρ οἱ φίλοι τοῖς βασιλεῦσιν οὐ θαρροῦσι παραινεῖν, ταῦτα ἐν τοῖς βιβλίοις γέγραπται.” Recent scholarship makes a persuasive case for Plutarch’s authorship of the Apophthegmata; see Stadter 2008. 32 Plutarch Alexander 8.2: τῆς πολεμικῆς ἀρετῆς ἐφόδιον. See Martin 2012 for more on the tradition of Alexander as philomeros. 33 Erskine 1995 provides a helpful introduction to this dynamic. 34 Recent work on Hellenistic kingship treatises includes Haake 2013b, Murray 2007, and Virgilio 2003. Murray 1971 and Goodenough 1928 remain valuable for their insights. 35 Diogenes Laertios 2.110:  Εὐβουλίδου δὲ καὶ Εὔφαντος γέγονε ὁ Ὀλύνθιος, ἱστορίας γεγραφὼς τὰς κατὰ τοὺς χρόνους τοὺς ἑαυτοῦ. ἐποίησε δὲ καὶ τραγῳδίας πλείους, ἐν αἷς εὐδοκίμει κατὰ τοὺς ἀγῶνας γέγονε δὲ καὶ Ἀντιγόνου τοῦ βασιλέως διδάσκαλος, πρὸς ὃν καὶ λόγον γέγραφε Περὶ βασιλείας σφόδρα εὐδοκιμοῦντα.

Kallimachos and the Politics of Praise  9 such works and authors under the rubric of philosophy, but, like Euphantos, the intellectuals who produced works On Kingship were polymaths whose pursuits ranged far beyond such disciplinary or generic boundaries.36 Contemporary with these were a great many works investigating what Aristotle posited as the corrupt counterpart of kingship. Works On Tyranny (Περὶ Τυραννίδος) are attested starting from the fourth century for authors including the Cynic Diogenes of Sinope and the Peripatetics Theophrastos and Phainias, both of Eresos. While the proliferation of kingship treatises closely tracked the emergence of Hellenistic kingship as a political reality, these works built on a rich literary tradition, and precursors can be found in the works of orators, historians, philosophers, and poets. Of particular interest is Xenophon’s Hiero, a dialogue written in the fourth century that dramatizes a fictional conversation between the fifth-​century poet Simonides and the tyrant Hieron of Syracuse. Written in the genre of Sokratikoi logoi most familiar from the works of his contemporary Plato, this discussion provides the framework for analyzing an abstract issue that might otherwise have been addressed in a more direct manner via a theoretical treatise.37 Here, poet and ruler set out to identify how pleasure and pain operate differently in the life of a tyrant and that of a private citizen. In the course of their discussion, Simonides offers suggestions about how the tyrant might minimize pain and maximize pleasure. Through appeals to the ruler’s self-​interest and “passion for honor and praise” (τιμῆς τε καὶ ἐπαίνου ἔρως, 7.3), the poet gently urges Hieron to abandon his former cruel practices in favor of kinder and more generous ones. Behind this narrative, it is easy to see the outlines of the archetypal Good King and the Bad King whose characteristics Simonides urges Hieron to emulate and eschew, respectively. Xenophon’s choice of Simonides as the poet who steers Hieron toward good governance and ideal kingship is grounded in a historical dynamic that obtained between praise poets and sovereigns at least as early as the archaic period. Indeed, Simonides himself, along with Pindar and Bakchylides, composed hymns in praise of aristocrats who won victories in Panhellenic 36 Given the paucity of evidence beyond their authors and titles, we should not rush to assume that works labeled On Kingship constituted a genre per se. Even the titles themselves may well have been retroactively applied by scholars like Diogenes Laertios. 37 The work is usually called Hiero or Hieron, following the practice of naming the Platonic dialogues after Sokrates’ interlocutor, but it might well have been called Peri Tyrannidos (“On Tyranny”); see Gray 2011 and Sevieri 2004. Morgan 2003, Anderson 2005, and Lewis 2006 are essential for understanding the figure of the τύραννος in antiquity.

10 Introduction athletic competitions.38 These poems praised their honorand by embedding his success within a densely woven mythic narrative that linked the contemporary with the legendary, the individual with the ancestral, and the familial with the civic. Aristocrats from around the Greek world invested in memorials that would help to transform an ephemeral moment of victory into a monument that would preserve their excellence for generations to come. Poetry was seen as an excellent medium for that purpose.39 Powerful men like Hieron jockeyed for position in this Panhellenic competition for honor and praise. As in the conversation Xenophon imagines taking place between poet and ruler, surviving royal hymns by Pindar and Bakchylides reveal that poets used these praise poems as opportunities to shape political discourse about kingship and good governance.40 Xenophon and Demetrios of Phaleron were far from alone in recognizing that a rich discourse on power and kingship could be accessed through the careful study of literature. Around the middle of the first century bce Philodemos of Gadara wrote a work on kingship for his patron, the Roman Consul and father-​in-​law to Julius Caesar, L. Calpurnius Piso Caesoninus, entitled “On the Good King According to Homer.”41 Extant fragments of the work reveal that it employs a literary critical study of kings in Homeric epic in order to make recommendations about contemporary political leadership.42 Indeed, in drawing on examples from poetry to formulate ideas about governance for a powerful ruler, Philodemos’ treatise offers real-​life evidence of the heuristic strategy that Plutarch ascribes to Hellenistic kings. It is neither possible nor particularly important to confirm the extent to which such kings themselves viewed books in this edifying light; however, it is instructive to think about literature as a site of this type of political discourse. In this book I examine Kallimachos’ Hymns from this perspective, as a means of shaping political discourse on the just exercise of power for its audiences, including, above all, the Ptolemaic kings and queens themselves. 38 Today these poems are called epinikia “victory odes,” but their ancient authors referred to them as hymnoi. Brumbaugh 2019 argues that the hymnos was a genre of praise poetry that regularly commemorated exceptional mortals and immortals from the archaic through Hellenistic periods. 39 Kurke 1991a and Steiner 2001. 40 Morgan 2015 studies Pindar’s engagement with monarchical ideology among the Deinominids. Her introduction (1–​22) examines the challenges faced in understanding the relationship between poet and ruler and, mutatis mutandis, applies equally well in our present inquiry into Kallimachos. 41 Philodemos belongs to the milieu of Hellenistic poetry and is an almost exact contemporary of fellow Gadarene Meleagros, the poet and anthologist famous for his collection of epigrams known as the Garland, on which see Gutzwiller 1998 and Gutzwiller forthcoming. 42 Fish 2016, Fish 2011, Fish 2002, Gigante 1995:63ff., Asmis 1991, Murray 1984, Dorandi 1982, and Murray 1965. Fish forthcoming offers a much-​anticipated new edition of PHerc 1507.

Kallimachos and the Politics of Praise  11

Contexts for Kallimachos’ Hymns Central to my approach to Kallimachos’ Hymns is the observation that we must draw distinctions between the audience’s experience of any given hymn, whether heard or read, as an individual work and as a part of a carefully organized poetry book. Scholars have offered readings of these hymns in isolation and in combination, but have rarely discussed in detail how the incorporation of a hymn into the poetry book changes its meaning by altering its frame of reference.43 Thus, Artemis’ efforts to establish her own identity and rival her twin brother and the poet’s admonition against forgetting about Leto’s other child take on new meaning precisely because the Hymn to Artemis is situated between two Apollo hymns that virtually ignore the goddess. The new material context of the poetry book flattens the chronology of the individual hymns and transforms their relationship to one another from intertextual to intratextual. We do not know with certainty when and under what circumstances Kallimachos produced the six poems included in the Hymns, but some contain pointed references to dateable events and provide grounds for speculation.44 Most scholars agree that the Hymn to Zeus, for instance, was composed for an event celebrating the transition of royal power from the first to the second Ptolemy in 285 or shortly thereafter.45 The Hymn to Delos features praise of Ptolemy II Philadelphos’ victory over Gallic mercenaries in the mid-​270s, and so might be associated with a birthday celebration for the king and/​or a dynastic festival like the Ptolemaia sometime shortly thereafter.46 The marriage of newly crowned Ptolemy III Euergetes and Berenike II (c.250–​246) that reunited Kyrenaika and Egypt has been advanced as a plausible context for the Hymn to Apollo, given the prominence of Apollo’s union with the eponymous nymph Kyrene in that hymn.47 Arguments suggesting 43 Much of what Krevans 1984 and Gutzwiller 1998 discuss might be adapted to the Hymns, and Ukleja 2005 treats a number of central issues. Fantuzzi 2011:450–​53 raises important interpretive questions related to the arrangement of the poetry book that follow from his earlier observations about how seating arrangements in the Hymn to Apollo (2.29) and the Hymn to Artemis (3.169–​70) mirror the arrangement of the hymns in the bookroll. 44 Stephens 2015a:16–​22. 45 See further discussion in Chapter 1. 46 The firm terminus post quem is the Celtic mercenary revolt of c.275, but Apollo’s description to Ptolemy as θεός suggests a date after 271/​0. Scholars tend to think that the poem was composed before the Battle of Kos c.262/​1 but neither the details of this event nor the rationale for using it as a terminus ante quem is secure, Bing 1988:91–​93, Weber 1993:213n.3. See discussion in Chapter 5. 47 Brumbaugh 2016:91–​92 suggests a terminus post quem of 260 and provides further argumentation for the hymn’s resonance with political events in the 240s. Less compelling is the line of argumentation connecting passages seen as programmatic and polemical in the Hymn to Apollo with

12 Introduction dates or specific contexts for the Artemis, Athena, and Demeter hymns are inconclusive. Most if not all of Kallimachos’ hymns appear to have been composed at different points throughout the third century for listening and reading audiences.48 They very likely circulated separately in textual form among a well-​educated readership.49 Although the audience may have been limited to a small percentage of the Greek-​speaking population, it likely included royal philoi at the major Hellenistic courts as well as smaller circles of intellectuals in cultural centers like Kyrene, Athens, Kos, Halikarnassos, and elsewhere.50 At some point, likely during the Hellenistic period, six hymns by Kallimachos were compiled into a single bookroll.51 Although we cannot know for certain, the evidence points overwhelmingly to Kallimachos as the editor of his own collection.52 Unlike Theokritos’ Idylls, Kallimachos’ Hymns consistently appear in the exact same order:  Zeus, Apollo, Artemis, Delos, Bath of Pallas, and Demeter.53 In his commentary on the Hymn to Demeter, Neil Hopkinson argues that the arrangement of the bookroll is probably the poet’s own and he sketches out several binary relationships based on the order of the hymns: “The arrangement is symmetrical: two short, two long, two short poems  .  .  .  ; the first pair ‘masculine,’ the second ‘mixed’ (twins), the third ‘feminine’; the flanking pairs broadly ‘mimetic,’ the middle pair more traditionally ‘epic.’ ”54 Taking Hopkinson’s observation further, the Aitia prologue, which is thought to have been composed toward the end of Kallimachos’ life; see discussion in Cameron 1995:407. 48 Hopkinson 1984a:13–​17 suggests that the Athena and Demeter hymns may have been composed as a pair. My own view on the matter of live performance versus textual reception is essentially the same as the position described in Petrovic 2016, that audiences experienced the hymns as both readers and listeners in a variety of contexts. 49 I  analyze the evidence for mobility among texts and intellectuals who made and read them during the Hellenistic period in an upcoming project. Individual aitia from Aitia 3 and 4 may have circulated as individual poems before Kallimachos collected them for publication together, Fantuzzi and Hunter 2004:46. 50 For courtiers and elites as Kallimachos’ audience, see Strootman 2017, Acosta-​Hughes and Stephens 2012:1–​22, Clayman 2014:51–​63, Weber 2011, and Cameron 1995:3–​70. On royal philoi, see Habicht 1958=Habicht 2006, Billows 1990:246–​50, Savalli-​Lestrade 1998, and Strootman 2011. 51 At 1,083 verses, they easily fit onto and filled up one standard papyrus roll. Gutzwiller 1998:186 suggests that compilations such as this one were influenced by the publication of epigram books. In late antiquity, an unknown editor incorporated this bookroll into a codex that also contained the Homeric Hymns, the Orphic Hymns, and seven hymns by the fifth-​century ce Neoplatonist Proklos. This book was the archetype for the subsequent manuscript tradition, on which see Pfeiffer 1949:II. lv–​lvi and Stephens 2015a:38–​46. 52 Morrison 2007:105–​ 6 provides further discussion and bibliography. Hunter and Fuhrer 2002:176–​81 also speculate on the hypothesis that Kallimachos edited the Hymns but are not prepared to commit to a view one way or the other. 53 Ptolemaic papyri confirm that this order predates the manuscript tradition, Pfeiffer 1949:II.liii. 54 Hopkinson 1984a:13 details correspondences between the fifth and sixth hymns, which he argues were composed as a pair. Heyworth 2004:153–​57 supports and amplifies this suggestion.

Kallimachos and the Politics of Praise  13 Karina Ukleja performs a thorough analysis of the structure of Kallimachos’ “sextet.”55 Given the editorial work Kallimachos was performing on the corpora of other poets, it is difficult to imagine him passing up the opportunity to arrange his own. Indeed, most scholars now subscribe to the hypothesis that he expanded and re-​edited his magnum opus, the Aitia, in a second edition.56 While it remains possible that someone else anthologized Kallimachos’ hymns, the default assumption should be that Kallimachos also compiled and edited the Hymns—​probably at the end of his career, early in the reign of Ptolemy III Euergetes. Compared with Kallimachos’ less well-​ preserved poetry, little attention has been paid to the Hymns as a poetry book.57 Newly discovered Aitia fragments and their arrangement within a multivolume poetry book have long dominated the attention of Kallimachean scholars.58 The Iambi have also been studied as a poetry book,59 motivated in part by their influence on Horace’s Epodes,60 and in part by the debate over whether the four poems in the Milan Diegesis between Iambus 13 and the Hekale belong to the Iambi. Transmitted via the medieval manuscript tradition, the Hymns are almost perfectly intact and have no such textual issues.61 Yet, until now there have been no monograph-​length treatments of this poetry book in English.62 Indeed, few monographs have been published in the last century on any of the hymns in any language.63 Even so, Krevans’s remarks relating to the Aitia poetry book are just as relevant to the Hymns: “Callimachus’ achievement lies in his recognition that the role of the editor could be as creative as that of the poet.”64

55 Ukleja 2005: esp 89–​107, expanding on the framing of the poetry book as a sextet in Haslam 1993. 56 Petrovic and Petrovic 2003:194ff. argue that Kallimachos’ Ep. 51 should be read as a commentary on the creation of this second edition. A through treatment of the hypothesis is now available in Harder 2012:I.2–​8. Zetzel 1983 points out that Kallimachos’ compilation process necessarily involved revision, a point we do well to remember in our reading of the Hymns; see Chapter 6. 57 Ukleja 2005:21–​25 offers an excellent overview of scholarship on Kallimachos’ poetry books. 58 Harder 2012 provides the most comprehensive study of the Aitia and scholarship on this issue. 59 E.g., Clayman 1980, Kerkhecker 2000, Acosta-​Hughes 2002, and Lelli 2005. 60 See Morrison 2016 with references to earlier scholarship. 61 See p.12 n.51. 62 Krevans 1984 examines the poet as editor and the development of the poetry book beginning with Kallimachos but does not treat the Hymns. 63 Bing 1988, Vamvouri Ruffy 2004, Ukleja 2005, Petrovic 2007, and Giuseppetti 2013 constitute important exceptions, though it should be noted that three of the five are on the Hymn to Delos. There are commentaries available for each hymn, though few have been written in the past three decades. Stephens 2015a provides a single-​volume edition of all six hymns with text and extensive commentary, an invaluable resource that will spark further interest in the Hymns. 64 Krevans 1984:211–​12.

14 Introduction On the basis of the growing consensus surrounding the early date and possible Kallimachean authority of the Hymns as a collection, scholars have demonstrated an increasing willingness to read these six poems as a poetry book.65 While such work has made important contributions, further studies are necessary to address the various interpretive issues that arise from such a reading. Among the many relevant questions, one stands out as particularly important: if Kallimachos compiled his own anthology, did he revise the hymns, whether superficially or substantially, for inclusion in the poetry book? This question cannot be answered without further evidence,66 but it is important to remember because it has a bearing on how we think about the relationships we see between the different hymns and the degree to which we can ascribe authorial intention to them. As in my treatment of intertextual relationships linking Kallimachos’ Hymns to earlier works, I examine such intratextual links from the perspective of a reader of the poetry book who may (or may not) notice them.67 From this perspective, juxtaposition within a book “by Kallimachos” may be sufficient to imply a connected and intentional discourse. While short of a complete remedy, this study aims to build on earlier analyses of the poetry book and suggest a variety of ways forward for research on Kallimachos’ Hymns.

Refiguring the Politics of Olympos This book is divided into two parts. The first part offers an in-​depth analysis of Kallimachos’ Hymn to Zeus in three chapters, which examine the hymn’s contemporary political setting, engagement with a tradition of political thought stretching back to Homer, and Kallimachos’ portrayal of the poet as an image-​maker for the king. These chapters are arranged in order of increasing complexity, starting from a comparison of this hymn’s narrative with other political discourses and culminating in a discussion of 65 E.g., Haslam 1993, Depew 2004, Fantuzzi 2011, and most recently Petrovic 2016. Others, such as and Hunter and Fuhrer 2002, examine the Hymns together, but do not take the poetry book as a unit for the purposes of their analyses. 66 Aside from inferences drawn from parallel situations, the only substantial piece of evidence relating to this question is P.Oxy. 2226. This papyrus contains an abbreviated ending to the Hymn to Demeter, skipping directly from verse 117 to 138 (the last line in the standard text) and then possibly continuing beyond that. This suggests that two versions of this hymn were in circulation and that the ending of the hymn may have been tailor-​made to suit its position at the conclusion of the poetry book; see Chapter 6. 67 Asper 2001.

Kallimachos and the Politics of Praise  15 Kallimachos’ manipulation of hymnic tropes and use of metaphor to convey more subtle messages about his encomiastic project. Distinguished as both the first and the shortest of Kallimachos’ hymns, this hymn’s position at the head of the poetry book, its explicit focus on kingship, and its identifiable historical context provide fertile ground for examining several key issues that will recur throughout the poetry book. The first chapter, “Zeus as a Paradigm for Dynastic Continuity,” looks at ways in which the Hymn to Zeus jointly praises Zeus and the Ptolemaic kings. I take as my starting point the scholarly consensus that associates this hymn with the first succession in the Ptolemaic dynasty, elaborated by James Clauss.68 Against that historical context, I demonstrate that the standard account of Zeus’ rise to power was ill suited to the Ptolemaic succession. Zeus was an important symbol for Ptolemy I Soter’s kingship, and of Makedonian kingship more broadly, but the god became king via a brutal cycle of oppression and usurpation that pitted father against son, as Hesiod’s Theogony recounts. Kallimachos decouples the god’s kingship from its violent origins in order to create a pro-​dynastic discourse capable of quelling anxiety occasioned by Ptolemy II Philadelphos’ own fraught succession. The true measure of the poet’s success is that, by selectively calling attention to points of contention within the tradition and passing over others, he persuades his audience to accept his new Zeus unhesitatingly. I expand on this analysis in the second chapter, “Kallimachos’ Hymn ‘On Kingship,’ ” to assess how the poet characterizes Zeus’ kingship and the structure of his political regime in the hymn. Depicting Zeus as a powerful figure who uses force to take what he wants, Kallimachos initially presents political power as derived from physical power. The poet’s rejection of the lottery myth as a plausible rationale for Zeus’ ascension rhetorically reinforces this notion, while at the same time activating a Homeric intertext in which Zeus and Poseidon engage in a debate over whether the Iliadic politics of Olympos is an absolute monarchy or an oligarchy. Siding with Zeus in favor of monarchy, the narrator elaborates a political hierarchy that ultimately implicates the king in an oversight role over those beneath him. Refiguring the king as a 68 Building on new discoveries relating to the annual Ptolemaic Basileia festival in Koenen 1977, Clauss 1986 argues that the Hymn to Zeus was composed in conjunction with an instance of the Basileia in 285 bce, which also celebrated Philadelphos’ birthday and elevation to co-​rule (or the one-​year anniversary of that event). No other hymn enjoys as broad a consensus regarding its date and circumstances of composition: e.g., Koenen 1993:78–​79, Cameron 1995:10, Stephens 2003:77–​ 79, Bulloch 2010:168, and Barbantani 2011:182–​83, Petrovic 2016:166–​67; D’Alessio 1996:n.18 is more hesitant.

16 Introduction guardian and judge, Kallimachos expands his earlier account of kingly power to embrace a wider variety of kingly virtues. Through allusions to the proemial hymns that open Hesiod’s Works and Days and Theogony, Kallimachos further refines his presentation of the king’s prerogatives as he negotiates a role for the poet in constituting and projecting the king’s authority. Chapter 3, “The Poetics of Praise in the Hymn to Zeus,” further examines how Kallimachos depicts the poet and the praise he crafts as essential to kingship. I  argue that the hymn’s lengthy narrative detailing Rhea’s postpartum search for a stream is a metaphor for the poet’s own aporia, the sense of not knowing how to proceed, which he highlights in the hymn’s opening frame. In his narrative Kallimachos uses intertextual markers to contrast his honorand’s bleak birthplace, Arkadia, with the landscape of the Theogony proem, where Zeus’ praises are abundant, and his reign is guaranteed. Drawing on the metaphor of water as poetry, Kallimachos casts Rhea’s search for a stream in which to bathe Zeus as analogous with the narrator-​poet’s own search for the praises with which he will shower his honorand. In this way, Kallimachos makes three subtle assertions:  true praise is difficult to come by; it is extremely important to kingship; and he is expert in crafting it. The second part of this study focuses on how hymns in the poetry book can be read in dialogue with one another. Drawing on earlier scholarship that envisions the Hymns as a whole,69 I examine ways in which the juxtaposition of Kallimachos’ hymns within a single bookroll gives rise to intratextual readings in which themes from one work appear in dialogue with similar themes in another. In each of the three chapters in this part, I examine how Kallimachos’ hymns return to and build on issues of kingship set out in the first hymn. In addition to refining the prerogatives of kingship and the role of the poet over the course of the poetry book, Kallimachos effectively replaces Zeus with Apollo as the new paradigmatic king and broadens his discourse to include queens as powerful rulers in their own right. In the first part of Chapter 4, “Apollo as a New Paradigm for Kingship,” I  discuss how Kallimachos resumes the patron/​client discourse from the Hymn to Zeus in the Hymn to Apollo by depicting a hierarchy linking Apollo, the narrator-​poet, and the chorus he leads. Here, however, Kallimachos 69 Hopkinson 1984a, Bornmann 1988, Haslam 1993, Knight 1993, Depew 2004, Köhnken 2004, Ukleja 2005, Morrison 2007, Fantuzzi 2011, Acosta-​Hughes and Cusset 2012, and Petrovic 2016 imagine Kallimachos as the likely editor of the Hymns; Hunter and Fuhrer 2002 and Stephens 2011 are hesitant to commit; Stephens 2015a:12–​14 summarizes key points about the book as a collection, building on Hopkinson 1984a:13–​17 and Ukleja 2005. There are still those who reject this growing consensus (e.g., Asper 2011:166n.19).

Kallimachos and the Politics of Praise  17 revises the relationship between Apollo and his traditional client. Instead of simply detailing the similarities between the poet and Apollo, as he did when describing such relationships in the first hymn, Kallimachos casts the poet as a gatekeeper, controlling access to the god’s transformative gifts. In his place, Kallimachos inserts the founder-​king as client of Apollo, attributing to the pair a variety of traits related to care for the polis. In the context of likening “my own king” to Apollo, the narrator-​poet issues a gnomic admonition against striving against the gods. Echoing the Iliad, Kallimachos uses the intertext to engage in a discussion about humans with pretentions of godlikeness, in which he implicitly validates Ptolemaic claims to divinity. In the second part of the chapter, I examine the figure of the ἀλιτρός, “transgressor,” in the Hymn to Apollo and the Hymn to Artemis as an anti-​client who arrogantly oversteps his bounds. Kallimachos substitutes the harmful strife associated with such transgressors for the conflict traditionally associated with members of the divine family, as in the Homeric Hymns where there are constant reminders of the forces that might bring down Zeus’ regime.70 Intra-​ family strife is instead portrayed ironically, as with Artemis and Apollo’s charming sibling rivalry in the third hymn. In this way, Kallimachos depicts the divine family and its clients as unified in their opposition to external enemies who are unambiguously wicked. “Saviors, Tyrants, and the Poetics of Empire,” the fifth chapter, examines ways in which the Hymn to Delos revisits the role of the king as a guard, established in the first hymn. Here, Kallimachos adds nuance to his earlier characterization by distinguishing between the savior, Apollo, who protects and the tyrant, Hera, who oppresses those less powerful. As in the preceding hymns, Kallimachos de-​emphasizes aspects of his narrative that could be seen as anti-​ dynastic, presenting instead a more whimsical account. Explicitly paralleling the birth, kingship, and universal empire of Apollo and Ptolemy II Philadelphos, Kallimachos effectively replaces Zeus with a new paradigm of ideal kingship. This hymn’s embrace of a pan-​Mediterranean stage mirrors, in a way, Philadelphos’ efforts to expand his kingdom into a vast, overseas empire during the first years of his reign. During this period, the honorific title Sōtēr, meaning “Savior,” once again gained currency within diplomatic discourse as a way for independent poleis to laud kings who had saved them from invading Gauls. Not only does Kallimachos incorporate this contemporary dynamic into his hymn, as scholars have detailed,71 but he also maps the

70

Clay 1989 cites this tension as the central feature of the “hymnic moment” in the Homeric Hymns.

71 E.g., Barbantani 2001 and Giuseppetti 2013.

18 Introduction diplomatic traffic in praise onto the reciprocal charis dynamic that traditionally obtains between a hymnist and his honorand. In the final chapter, “On the Good Queen,” I examine the ways in which Kallimachos creates a new ideology of queenship in the four hymns dedicated to goddesses. He explicitly likens Artemis, Athena, and Demeter to the ideal king embodied by Zeus and Apollo in his earlier hymns. Moreover, Kallimachos crafts their identities as queens in dialogue with a discourse about the role of royal women emerging at the Ptolemaic court in conjunction with Arsinoë II’s return to Egypt in the mid-​270s.72 The poet rehabilitates the image of the queen, distancing his goddesses from the stereotype of the jealous wife who stirs up court intrigue and threatens to undermine dynasties. Following a discussion of the early development of Ptolemaic queenship, I examine the Hymn to Artemis, Bath of Pallas, and Hymn to Demeter demonstrating how their honorands resolve stasis within the household, successfully negotiate relationships of charis and philia, and promote peace. Likewise, I discuss how each goddess appears as an arbiter of justice within a narrative of transgression and punishment. I conclude the chapter by returning to the depiction of Hera in the Hymn to Delos as a caricature of the bad queen whose farcically cruel behavior reinforces the image of the good queen by contrast. I close the book with a brief overview of Kallimachos’ political ideology in the Hymns, the rhetorical strategies he employs, and the inter-​and intratextual dynamics that draw readers of the poetry book into a larger discussion on power, authority, and just rule. Taking the contemporary Athenian hymn to Demetrios Poliorketes as an example, I  discuss how praise can be used strategically as part of a negotiation with more powerful individuals, and indeed kings. Finally, I offer some speculations on the persuasive effect of praise on a potential Ptolemaic reader for whom the poetry book might serve as an education in and inducement to good kingship.

72 While I do not treat the same issues, my analysis here begins from Depew 2004, who emphasizes the goddesses’ athleticism with contemporary queenship ideology. Petrovic 2007 is crucial for the way I understand Kallimachos’ manipulation of his goddesses’ traits. More recently, Petrovic 2016 discusses these goddesses in connection with the theme of motherhood.

1 Zeus as a Paradigm for Dynastic Continuity Kallimachos’ first hymn celebrates Zeus as the eternal and paradigmatic king, and yet in many respects its narrative relates to Ptolemy, whom the poet likens to the god and praises alongside him. The constellation of themes arrayed in the Hymn to Zeus relating to the god’s birth, ascension to power, and kingship coupled with the poet’s own association with the Ptolemaic court has led scholars to interpret the poem closely with Ptolemy II Philadelphos’ rise to power. Following the publication of an inscription in 1977 detailing an annual dynastic festival in Alexandria and throughout Egypt, a consensus has emerged among scholars that this hymn was composed to commemorate a special instance of that festival on 12 Dystros 285 (=15/​16 December). On this date the Ptolemies jointly celebrated several events important to royal ideology:  a Makedonian festival for Zeus Basileus (the Basileia); Ptolemy II Philadelphos’ birthday (genethlia); the young Ptolemy’s elevation to co-​ regency with his father, Ptolemy I Soter; and quite possibly the Ptolemaic anniversary of Alexander’s own coronation at Memphis.1 This Alexandrian festival promoting Ptolemaic kingship within the context of honors for Zeus Basileus featured both athletic and musical competition,2 and one could imagine Kallimachos’ hymn as a birthday gift (genethliakon) performed for the ascendant ruler at the festival.3 As tempting as this speculation may be, 1 Expanding on the work of Richter 1871:1–​4 and Koenen 1977, Clauss 1986 describes a plausible context for the hymn that connects it with the festival in 285/​4 or the one year anniversary of that event in 284/​3. This conjecture is followed by Koenen 1993:78–​79, Cameron 1995:10, Stephens 2003:77–​79, Bulloch 2010:168, and Barbantani 2011:182–​83; D’Alessio 1996:n.18 is more hesitant. Much of what is known about this annual event comes from an inscription detailing the joint Basileia–​genethlia celebrated for Philadelphos in 267, SEG 27.1114; see also Koenen 1977 and Bingen and Bagnall 2007:86–​89. The Ptolemies commemorated Alexander’s coronation on the same day, though it is unknown whether this coincidence is a later Ptolemaic invention, Koenen 1993:59n.79. 2 Fraser 1972:I.231–​32, Koenen 1977:29–​32, 47–​63, Nerwinski 1981:79–​87, and Perpillou-​Thomas 1993:152–​53. 3 Though he needed not be taken literally, the hymn’s narrator suggests that the hymn is an accompaniment for ceremonial libations rather than an entry in the musical agōn. Theokritos’ Herakliskos (Idyll 24) and Kallimachos’ Hymn to Delos have also been proposed as genethliaka for Philadelphos The New Politics of Olympos: Kingship in Kallimachos’ Hymns. Michael Brumbaugh, Oxford University Press (2019). © Oxford University Press. DOI: 10.1093/oso/ 9780190059262.001.0001

22  On Zeus’ Kingship putting the poet on the program of the genethlia/​Basileia is not necessary in order to recognize that Kallimachos’ hymn inscribes itself within the same discursive space as that celebration of Ptolemaic kingship. This chapter demonstrates how Kallimachos implicates his hymn in a complex discourse not just limited to the festival but embracing a larger Zeitgeist. Kallimachos subtly transforms his honorand in the Hymn to Zeus, decoupling that god’s kingship from its violent origins in order to fashion a pax deorum that helps to constitute rather than merely reflect the pax Ptolemaica asserted as a counter-​narrative to quell anxieties surrounding the first dynastic transition.4 The crowning achievement of his encomiastic maneuver, however, is that Kallimachos refashions Zeus from a patricidal usurper to a pro-​dynastic king without drawing attention to his manipulation. My analysis begins from the poet’s use of figured speech to offer praise for Zeus that is implicitly and explicitly reflected back onto Ptolemy. For poet and audience this dynamic is common to Greek encomiastic discourse, which regularly makes use of analogy and shares its praise between implicit and explicit honorands. Although Zeus had long been emblematic of Makedonian and Ptolemaic kingship, Kallimachos faced special challenges in elaborating that relationship in narrative form since key aspects of the myth (e.g., patricide, infanticide, instability) are not only unflattering, but also inherently anti-​dynastic. Moreover, such details would have called to mind the fraught nature of the contested Ptolemaic succession—​a tension the kingship festival was meant to alleviate.5 Kallimachos’ sensitivity to this dynamic is revealed through the care he takes to manipulate the mythic tradition via choices that are both marked and unmarked. By calling attention to comparatively superficial “corrections” of the mythographic record, Kallimachos distracts from his more consequential deviations from tradition. The result is an authoritative and compelling portrayal of Zeus that appears familiar to audiences despite having been dramatically reshaped by the poet to accommodate a political agenda.

presented at dynastic festivals, Koenen 1977:79–​86 and Mineur 1984:10–​18, respectively. See also Clauss 1986:160n.15. 4 Roman 2014 discusses “autonomy” as an intriguing heuristic for interpreting the poetic and political as distinct yet intersecting spheres in a Roman context. See Miller 2010 and Cornwell 2017 for the better-​documented program of the Pax Augusta. 5 Müller 2009:29.

Zeus as a Paradigm for Dynastic Continuity  23

Seeing Double While it is now almost universally accepted that Kallimachos’ first hymn jointly praises Zeus and Ptolemy,6 this general agreement glosses over a great deal that remains controversial and essential to interpreting how the hymn functions as encomiastic discourse. A key issue involves how the audience should interpret the similarity between Zeus and Ptolemy, given that “Callimachus all but runs the heavenly and earthly ‘Zeuses’ together.”7 While not presenting them as identical, Kallimachos frequently emphasizes their shared qualities. At times he even implicitly conflates the two, as when the poet makes requests of Zeus that Ptolemy is in a position to grant.8 Several readers of this and other hymns have proposed allegorical approaches that look for another layer of meaning behind the surface narrative. The one-​for-​one substitution of prominent political and literary personalities for features of the myth has largely drawn skepticism from critics.9 Yet allegory and other types of figured speech are recognized as indispensable to both the encoding and decoding of meaning in ancient as well as modern contexts.10 Such speech is especially prevalent in poetic and encomiastic discourses. Within the broader horizons of the Hellenistic world, the necessity of translating contextualized discourses across diverse local traditions invited further experimentation with allegory during the period in which Kallimachos lived.11 Kleanthes’ Hymn to Zeus and the larger Stoic school are most closely associated with allegory as an explicit mode of 6 There has been some debate as to the identity of “our lord” (ἡμετέρῳ μεδέοντι, 1.86) in this hymn, though most scholars today see this as a reference to Ptolemy Philadelphos. I argue that the reference is intentionally ambiguous, referring to any and every Ptolemaic king; see pp.49–​50. To describe this strategy of intentional ambiguity I borrow the expression “seeing double” from Stephens 2003, who employs it as an image for an intercultural reading of Alexandrian poetry. 7 Fantuzzi and Hunter 2004:353. Hunter and Fuhrer 2002:168–​69 describe the relationship as one of “analogy,” “paradigm,” and likeness. Hunter 2003:94–​103 develops this question further in terms of “likeness” in the proem to Theokritos’ Hymn for Philadelphos (Idyll 17). See further discussion at n.104, this chapter, and Chapter 3 pp.95–​6. 8 E.g., the narrator’s apostrophes at 69, 94–​96; see discussion in Chapter 2 pp.87–​9. 9 In his commentary on Kallimachos’ Hymn to Apollo, Williams 1978:97 (cf. 2, 79, and 88) called such approaches “grotesque,” remarking that “those who foist such allegorical fantasies on Callimachus do him a grave injustice.” While this critique may be extreme, it is representative because it relies on two highly debatable premises: first, that there is a single, correct reading of a given work; second, that for an interpretation to be correct it must be authorized (usually by the author). 10 Frye 1957:90 offers an ironic rebuttal to the line of criticism advanced by Williams and others; see further discussion in Quilligan 1979:224. On allegory in classical rhetoric and exegesis, see Whitman 1987, Dawson 1992, Ford 2002:67–​89, Boys-​Stones 2003, Ramelli 2003, Struck 2004, Russell and Konstan 2005, Copeland and Struck 2010, Domaradzki 2015, and Domaradzki 2017. 11 Stephens 2003 does not discuss allegory, but its practice is implied in her approach to “seeing double.”

24  On Zeus’ Kingship exegesis, but their systematizing efforts should not be walled off completely from less formalized allegorizing discourses.12 While Kallimachos’ Hymn to Zeus cannot be said to engage in allegory in the same way as Kleanthes’ poem,13 it is replete with figured speech (including elements that might well be called allegory) that creates complex, intersecting layers of meaning beyond the surface narrative.14 Establishing a taxonomy of Kallimachos’ use of figured speech and how exactly each figure works is beyond the scope of this book; more importantly, such an analysis would belie the inherent and often intentional diversity of interpretation this speech engenders.15 Nonetheless, some of these figures stand out, and recognizing them and the rhetorical and poetic traditions attached to them provides a fuller picture of how Kallimachos and his audience might have interpreted his hymn.

Paradigms of Praise for Zeus and Ptolemy Is Kallimachos’ Hymn to Zeus a praise of Zeus or of Ptolemy (or both)? The poem opens with a rhetorical question that hints at the multiplicity of the hymn’s praise (1–​2): Ζηνὸς ἔοι τί κεν ἄλλο παρὰ σπονδῇσιν ἀείδειν λώϊον ἢ θεὸν αὐτόν, ἀεὶ μέγαν, αἰὲν ἄνακτα, . . . Accompanying libations for Zeus, what else would be better to celebrate than the god himself, ever great, ever lord, . . .16

12 Most 2010 situates the Stoic allegorical project within its cultural and philosophical horizons and Obbink 2003:181–​83 emphasizes the diversity of approaches toward allegory throughout the Hellenistic period. 13 On Kleanthes’ hymn, see Thom 2005 and Zuntz 2005:27–​42. 14 Romano 2011 discusses Kallimachos’ engagement with contemporary literary criticism. Petrovic 2010a offers an allegorical reading of Iambus 7 that is helpful in understanding Kallimachos’ use of such figured speech in this hymn. 15 Pace Asper 1997. In antiquity handbooks on figured speech were popular; one such work, Demetrios’ On Style, remarks that allegory is “impressive” (μεγαλεῖον, 99), since “the thing implied is altogether more awe-​inspiring [than plain speech] and one person infers one thing while another infers something else (πᾶν γὰρ τὸ ὑπονοούμενον φοβερώτερον, καὶ ἄλλος εἰκάζει ἄλλο τι, 100). While the identity of this Demetrios is debated, his work likely dates to the Hellenistic period; see De Jonge 2009 and Porter 2016:246–​82. On the polyinterpretability of poetry, see discussions in Plato Protagoras 338e–​348a, Pfeijffer 1999b:25f., and Thomas 2012. 16 All translations are my own.

Zeus as a Paradigm for Dynastic Continuity  25 From the first word Kallimachos makes it clear that his audience should be thinking of Zeus, but the syntactic ambiguity of Ζηνὸς forces the audience to hold it in reserve until the sentence structure becomes clear in the second line. This ambiguous syntax merited a scholion, which notes that the genitive form of Zeus’ name could be construed with παρὰ σπονδῇσιν (i.e., “accompanying libations for Zeus”) or in an expression of comparison with τί λώϊον (i.e., “what better than Zeus”). The ambiguity is compounded for audiences familiar with the archaic Homeric Hymns, in which verse-​initial names are always construed in close connection with the main verb of “singing” or “remembering.”17 In this hymn, Ζηνὸς is not syntactically connected with the poet’s topic of song; instead the narrator claims to be puzzling over how to praise θεὸν αὐτόν “the god himself.” Framing the dilemma in this way preserves the ambiguity surrounding the poem’s ultimate honorand and reflects the challenge Kallimachos faces in crafting praises of Zeus that will suit the Basileia, given how ill suited the Zeus myth is to the dynastic transition.18 While all readers today know this poem as the Hymn to Zeus, many ancient audiences would have experienced the poem without a title to shape their expectations of the poem’s genre or purpose. Our conventions for titling ancient Greek hymns are misleading, because they are very rarely contemporaneous with their hymns. More importantly, they narrowly predispose readers to expect that the poem will be about the individual named in the title.19 While many hymns do in fact deliver on these retroactively imposed expectations, a great many are more complicated. In poems that begin with proemial hymns, such as the Theogony’s “Hymn to the Muses,” the Works and Days’ “Hymn to Zeus,” and the “Hymn to the Lyre” that opens Pindar’s Pythian 1, it is fairly clear that the proem’s praise is subordinated to the larger poem.20 More complex arrangements, however, are quite common. The poem known today as the Homeric Hymn to Demeter is addressed jointly to 17 Létoublon 2012. The post-​Kallimachean Hymn to Ares is the only hymn in the collection as we have it today that violates this norm. 18 If this hymn was performed in front of Ptolemy, many of the second-​person addresses associated by Norden 1913 with the Du-​Stil of cult hymns may be construed as glancing references to Ptolemy as well. See Chapter 3 for a further discussion of the poet’s task and the rhetorical questions with which Kallimachos opens his hymn. 19 On ancient Greek title conventions Schmalzriedt 1970 is foundational, but Caroli 2007, Johnson 2009:259–​60, and Schironi 2010 demonstrate that titling remains irregular down through the Hellenistic period. 20 The extensive focus on the Charites in Pindar’s Olympian 14.1–​24 is exceptional. Compare the hymns to Eleithyia (N.7.1–​8), Zeus (O.4.1–​16), Tyche (O.12.1–​13), and Thebes (I.7.1–​21), Race 1990:85–​117.

26  On Zeus’ Kingship Demeter and her daughter Persephone (1–​2 and 490–​94);21 Pindar’s Pythian 6 and Isthmian 2 for Xenokrates of Akragas turn out to be devoted almost entirely to praises of his son Thrasyboulos;22 Aristotle’s Hymn to Arete actually praises his friend Hermias, tyrant of Atarneus;23 and Kallimachos’ own Hymn to Delos uses the aition of Apollo’s birthplace as a narrative focalizer for lavishing praise on the god (and Ptolemy Philadelphos).24 While it will be uncontroversial that a hymn can be about several things at once, the relationship between different honorands and the extent to which the depiction of one characterizes the other is often ambiguous, adding complexity to the task of the poet and audience alike as they attempt to construe the relationship between overlapping subjects.25 Kallimachos explicitly links the praiseworthy qualities of Zeus with those of Ptolemy in such a way that he invites audiences to see the two kings as analogous (1.79–​86): ‘ἐκ δὲ Διὸς βασιλῆες,’ ἐπεὶ Διὸς οὐδὲν ἀνάκτων θειότερον· τῷ καί σφε τεὴν ἐκρίναο λάξιν.  80 δῶκας δὲ πτολίεθρα φυλασσέμεν, ἵζεο δ’ αὐτός ἄκρῃσ’ ἐν πολίεσσιν, ἐπόψιος οἵ τε δίκῃσι λαὸν ὑπὸ σκολιῇσ’ οἵ τ’ ἔμπαλιν ἰθύνουσιν· ἐν δὲ ῥυηφενίην ἔβαλές σφισιν, ἐν δ’ ἅλις ὄλβον· πᾶσι μέν, οὐ μάλα δ’ ἶσον. ἔοικε δὲ τεκμήρασθαι  85 ἡμετέρῳ μεδέοντι· περιπρὸ γὰρ εὐρὺ βέβηκεν. “But Kings are from Zeus,” since nothing is more divine than rulers; that is why you chose them as your lot. And you gave them cities to guard, and you yourself sat On the heights of the cities, on the look-​out for those who rule the 21 Hopkinson 1984a, Foley 1994, and Clay 1989:202–​65. 22 Pindar’s praise poems are complex and regularly combine celebration of a victor, his family, his polis, and the gods. On these dynamics, see Kurke 1991a and Kurke 1991b. 23 Proponents and opponents of an impiety charge brought against Aristotle in relation to this poem draw their arguments from the ambiguity surrounding its genre and honorand. While such charges against prominent figures were often specious and politically motivated, they carried enough weight that Aristotle appears to have preferred exile to testing the jury’s literary opinions. See discussion in Ford 2011a and LeVen 2014:268–​82. 24 See further discussion of this hymn in Chapter 5. 25 Encomiastic discourses in prose are similarly complex. Loraux 1986:27 remarks that “in the democratic city, the funeral oration was an institution—​an institution of speech in which the symbolic constantly encroached on the functional, since in each oration the codified praise of the dead spilled over into generalized praise of Athens.”

Zeus as a Paradigm for Dynastic Continuity  27 people with crooked justice, and those who do the opposite; You heap affluence and good-​fortune aplenty on them all, but not in equal measure. This can be inferred from the proof of our own lord; for he is especially outstanding.

Indeed, Kallimachos’ quotation from Hesiod’s Theogony (“ἐκ δὲ Διὸς βασιλῆες,” Th. 96) asserts that all kings derive their kingship from Zeus. He goes on to refine that claim, suggesting that kings vary in their degree of similarity to Zeus and that he rewards them according to how justly (and thus how like him) they rule. By this metric, Ptolemy far outstrips the rest and, by implication, appears to be the most Zeus-​like of kings.26 In the explicit praise of Ptolemy that follows (1.87–​90), Kallimachos highlights the king’s ability to actualize his plans swiftly: “By evening he will accomplish what he thought of at dawn” (ἑσπέριος κεῖνός γε τελεῖ τά κεν ἦρι νοήσῃ, 1.87). The account of Ptolemy’s ability to turn thoughts into deeds with the verb τελέω echoes the description of Zeus’ teleological thinking earlier in the hymn: “Though you were young, you thought all things through to their ends” (ἀλλ’ ἔτι παιδνὸς ἐὼν ἐφράσσαο πάντα τέλεια, 1.57).27 Kallimachos sets Ptolemy up as a paradeigma, “example,” in order to prove the validity of his characterization of Zeus. Here, his praise adopts the language and strategy of persuasive rhetoric asking his audience to evaluate his claim about Zeus’ practice of rewarding good kings on the basis of likelihood (ἔοικε, 1.85), inference from evidence (τεκμήρασθαι, 1.85), and the paradeigma of Ptolemy himself.28 While the eikos argument invites the audience to conjure up paradeigmata in their minds, Kallimachos is quick to focus the audience’s attention on the particular example of Ptolemy.29 The paradeigma, common in ancient Greek thought across several genres, is much discussed in rhetorical treatises from the fourth century bce onward. An ancient rhetorical handbook defines it as “the exposition of actions with a view to their similarity to present circumstances for the sake of 26 For further discussion of this passage, see Chapter 2. 27 The context makes clear that the second-​person-​singular addressee is Zeus, but in live performance it might have equally felt as if the speaker were addressing Ptolemy. 28 Kallimachos seems to be stacking up rhetorical terminology so as to make his proof more authoritative. Such proofs are discussed at length in Aristotle’s Rhetoric and Anaximenes’ Rhetoric to Alexander. For further discussion of Kallimachos’ argumentation and use of paradigms to construct a hierarchy of power, see Chapter 2 pp.63–​8. 29 As Anaximenes of Lampsakos describes in the Rhetoric to Alexander 7.4: Εἰκὸς μὲν οὖν ἐστιν, οὗ λεγομένου παραδείγματα ἐν ταῖς διανοίαις ἔχουσιν οἱ ἀκούοντες. See Montefusco 2007:108–​9 and Chiron 2007.

28  On Zeus’ Kingship encouragement and discouragement or simple clarification.”30 More often, however, the paradeigma functions as a type of inductive argument, which exploits an audience’s prior sense of similarity “to make what is potentially unfamiliar—​the desired conclusion—​immediately and unquestionably familiar. Only those examples are suitable which will be easily and quickly grasped by the audience as relevant.”31

The Makedonian Tradition of Zeus as a Political Symbol When Kallimachos composed his hymn by interweaving praises of Zeus and the Ptolemies, he was entering into a political discourse with its own long history. Zeus was a dominant symbol of Makedonian power, and Ptolemy I had long articulated his kingship within that idiom. In addition to the god’s symbolism within the realm of kingship ideology, genealogical claims of descent from Zeus were essential to Makedonians’ Hellenic identity and were continuously reiterated in order to contradict detractors like Demosthenes, who denied that Makedonians were even remotely Hellenes (e.g., 9.31).32 Radically modifying the terms of such legendary genealogies, Alexander made the extravagant claim that Zeus was not only the progenitor of his ancestral house, the Argead dynasty,33 but also his own father.34 This vastly superseded Philip II’s claims to Zeus’ favor and set an entirely new precedent for the degree to which the gods might be leveraged as symbols of power and authority. Images of the young king clutching Zeus’ thunderbolt (Alexander Keraunophoros) popularized Alexander’s claim in various media across the

30 Ps.Herodian (Περὶ σχημάτων) De figuris 65: Παράδειγμα δὲ πράξεων ἔκθεσις πρὸς ὁμοιότητα τῶν ἐνεστηκυιῶν προτροπῆς χάριν καὶ ἀποτροπῆς ἢ δηλώσεως ἁπλῆς. On the rhetorical treatise and its date, see Hajdú 1998 and Dickey 2014. 31 Lane 1998:96. This description of paradeigma in Aristotle and Cicero applies equally to poetic rhetoric. 32 Engels 2010, Hatzopoulos 2011, Acosta-​Hughes and Stephens 2012:168–​70. 33 According to Hesiod’s Catalogue of Women (fr. 7 M-​W), Zeus was the father of Makedon and Magnes, eponymous founders of Makedonia and Magnesia; on the foundation traditions of Makedonia, see Engels 2010:90. The Argead dynasty claimed descent from Makedon’s son Argeas as well as Temenos, a son of Herakles and thus grandson of Zeus; on Zeus and the Argead dynasty in Makedonia, see Düll 1977:98–​106 and Le Bohec-​Bouhet 2002:42. 34 Intentionally vague and couched in oracular authority, this claim was perpetuated as a rumor alongside his standard biography in which King Philip II was his father. On Alexander’s visit to Siwah and its ideological function, see Caneva 2011.

Zeus as a Paradigm for Dynastic Continuity  29 empire, including Kallisthenes’ Histories, the Poros decadrachms, the Neisos gem, and Apelles’ painting at the Artemesion in Ephesos.35 Ptolemy and the other Successors later adopted and expanded on this representational strategy, predicating their authority on their relationship to Alexander and then ultimately to Zeus himself.36 Such claims came into contention with one another—​sometimes even becoming superlative and mutually exclusive.37 In the case of Ptolemy I, we can see how honors such as the Sōtēr epiklesis entailed a multilateral political negotiation. The Rhodians voted it as a civic honor for Ptolemy in 305 in recognition of his liberating the polis from Demetrios I Poliorketes after a yearlong siege. The Lindian Chronicle (Syll.3 725 = FGrH 532), a monumental inscription set up in 99 bce in the sanctuary of Athena Lindia, incorporates Ptolemy I into a narrative detailing the history of Athena’s relationship with the polis of Lindos. That sacred history details a sequence of epiphanies in which Athena appears to the Lindians and promises to secure Zeus’ aid to rescue the polis from existential threats. The third such epiphany, however, results in the intervention of Ptolemy, who acts as a substitute for Zeus.38 Beyond perpetuating a narrative that cast Ptolemy in the role of Zeus, this Rhodian honor implicitly made Ptolemaic claims to the god superior to those of Demetrios.39 This episode highlights the multilateral negotiation between rulers, those who grant them honors, and the broader public who can accept or reject the validity and sincerity of such claims. Iconographic programs developed these claims, as can be seen from the way Ptolemaic coinage asserted a progressively closer and closer relationship between god and king.40 Even so, visual imagery testifying to a king’s 35 Howe 2013 discusses the Successors’ interest in promoting the narrative of Alexander’s divinity. On these images associating Alexander with Zeus, see discussion and bibliography in Stewart 1993, Dahmen 2007:58, and Ogden 2017:110. 36 Neither Alexander nor his Successors leveraged Zeus to the exclusion of other gods, but he was the most prominent avatar of kingly power for at least a generation after Alexander’s death, e.g., Erikson 2013, Howe 2013. For the persistence of dynastic associations with Zeus down into the second century, see Lapatin and Veymiers 2018 on the sardonyx cameo depicting the jugate portraits of Zeus and a Ptolemaic king. 37 Meeus 2013. Brumbaugh 2016 describes Kallimachos’ Hymn to Apollo as contesting Seleukid claims to that god’s favor. 38 Petrovic 2015 uses surviving historical narrative accounts to supplement the fragmentary text of the Lindian Chronicle and explain the circumstances of Ptolemy’s honors. On the inscription and its context, see Higbie 2003 and Shaya 2005. Habicht 2017:79–​80, 196–​97 discusses the evidence for the cult on Rhodes, and Muccioli 2013:81–​94, 159–​78 sets out the evidence for Ptolemy’s assumption and use of the epiklesis. For further discussion of Soterism down through the 270s, see Chapter 5. On the use of the epithet in connection with the gods, see Graf 2017. 39 On Demetrios’ divinity, see Chaniotis 2011 and Habicht 2017. 40 Von Reden 2007:36–​38.

30  On Zeus’ Kingship (a)

(b)

Figure 1.1  Silver tetradrachm minted at Alexandria, issued by Ptolemy I from 294/​3. Ob.: Bust of Ptolemy I. Re.: Eagle clutching a thunderbolt with legend “ΠΤΟΛΕΜΑΙΟΥ ΒΑΣΙΛΕΩΣ.” Svoronos 255 = CPE 168. Photograph courtesy of the American Numismatic Society (Acc. # 1944.100.73309).

affiliation with a god tended to be vague and its symbolism did not depend on the articulation of a narrative that specified exactly how the two figures were alike. Thus, a coin featuring Zeus’ eagle clutching his thunderbolt with the legend “of king Ptolemy” on one side and a bust of Ptolemy on the other, as in Figure 1.1, could provoke a variety of more or less detailed readings.41 Beyond perceiving a general association between Ptolemy I and Zeus, the viewer might infer any number of messages: for example, strength, violence, power, sovereignty, youth, swiftness. The elements need only to be recognizable enough so that viewers can be relied on to fill in the gaps and grasp a relationship between god and king. R. R. R. Smith draws an important distinction by pointing out that the early Ptolemies used images to associate themselves with the gods rather than assimilate themselves to the gods.42 This ambiguity allowed viewers to over-​interpret these images without the kings having to overplay their hand. Such exploitation of ambiguity can be seen in the gold Θεῶν/​Ἀδελφῶν mnaieia issued by Ptolemy II (e.g., Figure 1.2). Thought to be the sole example of a reigning Ptolemy emphatically styling himself as a god between 305 and 205 bce, this coin, Carl Johnson has argued convincingly, offers an

41 For Ptolemaic coinage and its chronology, see Lorber 2018, Lorber 2012a, and Lorber 2012b. 42 Smith 1988:44.

Zeus as a Paradigm for Dynastic Continuity  31 (a)

(b)

Figure 1.2.  Gold mnaieion (=octadrachm) minted at Alexandria, issued by Ptolemy II by 272. Re.: Jugate busts of Ptolemy I and Berenike I with legend “ΘΕΩΝ”; Ob.: Jugate busts of Ptolemy II and Arsinoë II with legend “ΑΔΕΛΦΩΝ.” Svoronos 603 = CPE 313. Photograph courtesy of the American Numismatic Society (Acc. # 1954.237.470).

intentionally ambiguous reading. A viewer could interpret the two sides independently so that the obverse shows the deceased, deified rulers Ptolemy I  and Berenike I  with the legend “of the Theoi [Sōtēres]” and the reverse depicts Ptolemy II and Arsinoë II with the simple legend “of the Adelphoi.” Alternately, the legend could be read continuously across both sides of the coin, referring to the junior pair as the Theoi Adelphoi, the official cult title used only by others to describe them.43 In this way, Ptolemy’s mint could suggestively acknowledge the living ruler’s divinity without explicitly violating the third-​century norm. This offers a useful point of comparison in evaluating the intentional ambiguities of Kallimachos’ hymn and suggests that audiences paying close attention may have been used to reading between the lines of ambiguous discourse.

43 Johnson 1999:52–​54 followed by von Reden 2007:50–​51. It must be noted that a single variety of this issue contains the full legend “ΘΕΩΝ ΑΔΕΛΦΩΝ” on one side (CPE 319), while all the others separate the words as described above (CPE 307–​18). A major study of this and related issues is now available in Olivier and Lorber 2013; see too Lorber 2018:1.1.317–​21.

32  On Zeus’ Kingship

The Encomiastic Challenge of a Zeus Narrative In contrast to the comparatively indeterminate iconographic associations linking Ptolemy and Zeus,44 a hymn detailing the similarity between king and god would contain lengthy and detailed narrative inviting more extensive and precise comparison. Moreover, it would be judged on the basis of its accurate representation of both Zeus and Ptolemy as well as its convincing portrayal of the relationship between them. Given this heightened level of scrutiny it is easy to see how the standard Zeus myth would have been incompatible with the Ptolemaic political situation at this period of transition. The précis on Zeus’ kingship in the Theogony proem gives a clear sense of the incongruity (Theogony 71–​74): ὁ δ’ οὐρανῷ ἐμβασιλεύει, αὐτὸς ἔχων βροντὴν ἠδ’ αἰθαλόεντα κεραυνόν, κάρτει νικήσας πατέρα Κρόνον· εὖ δὲ ἕκαστα ἀθανάτοις διέταξε νόμους καὶ ἐπέφραδε τιμάς. He is king in heaven, with control over thunder and the blazing bolt, because of his might he was victorious over his father Kronos; and he divided everything fairly among the immortals, allotting rights and honors.

A performance of Hesiod’s authoritative classic at the Ptolemaic kingship festival, had this ever been imagined, would have been damaging ideologically. First, the relationship between Kronos and Zeus, father and son, is one of mutual violence and would have ill-​served efforts to associate the Ptolemaic succession with stability. Not only does the cycle of violent succession serve as the engine driving the Theogony, but also the pivotal accomplishment that sets Zeus on the path to kingship is his usurpation of his father, replacing tyranny with a just regime. Second, the Theogony makes Zeus’ magnanimity toward his siblings a defining feature of his just and ordered reign. Characterized in this way, Zeus would have been a poor fit for Ptolemy II, whose ascension occasioned intense familial strife and resulted in the murder or exile of all his 44 This should not be taken to suggest that iconography does not have its own hermeneutic. On iconography, iconology, and the reading of images, see Schmidt and Oakley 2009, Stansbury-​O’Donnell 2011, Smith and Plantzos 2012:2.IV, Isler-​Kerényi 2015, and Lorenz 2016; on reading images of Alexander, see Stewart 1993 and Dahmen 2007.

Zeus as a Paradigm for Dynastic Continuity  33 brothers. Finally, Zeus’ most important weapon, the ultimate symbol of his power, the thunderbolt (κεραυνός), was an important aspect of Makedonian Zeus worship, as attested by cults for Zeus Keraunios and Keraunos;45 unfortunately, its symbolic power was the domain of Philadelphos’ older brother (Κεραυνός), whose seniority and prior claim to the throne were contradicted by the very occasion Kallimachos’ hymn celebrates.46 Although many have remarked that Kallimachos’ Hymn to Zeus is modeled on Hesiod’s Theogony, the hymn associated with the Ptolemaic dynastic festival scrupulously avoids all of these well-​known, infelicitous aspects of Zeus’ mythic biography, which are central to the archaic hymn as well as other popular representations. More significant is the fact that Kallimachos effects this departure from tradition without drawing attention to, and thus criticism for, his unorthodoxy. The success of his hymn is not that it merely commemorated the festival and presumably pleased the Ptolemies, but that it also creates an authoritative discourse that tacitly reshapes perceptions of that event and establishes itself as the dominant narrative thereafter. To give this accomplishment proper weight, we must re-​evaluate the historical circumstances surrounding the first Ptolemaic succession and attempt to resurrect potential counter-​narratives.

The Contested Ptolemaic Succession Two years before he died, the octogenarian king, Ptolemy I Soter, installed his young son, Ptolemy II Philadelphos, as co-​regent and heir apparent, extending his reign into a dynasty that would rule over Egypt for nearly three centuries.47 With knowledge of how successful the regime ultimately would become, it is difficult today to conceive of just how fraught that first succession must have been. Recent studies of Ptolemaic rule reveal that obfuscation of such moments of volatility was intentional, emphasizing the extent to which the perception of dynastic continuity was propagated—​often retroactively—​under Ptolemies II and III.48 For that reason it is useful to 45 Chrysostomou 1989–​91:25–​28. For the importance of the keraunos in Seleukid imagery and cult, see Ogden 2017:107–​9. 46 For sources on Ptolemy Keraunos, see PP VI 14539. 47 Porphyry, FGrH 260 F2.2–​3. Ptolemy I died in the first half of 282 bce when he was about eighty-​ four years old. For calendric conversions and reckonings, see Samuel 1962, Samuel 1972:52 and 146–​ 52 and Hazzard 1987. 48 Müller 2009, Hauben and Meeus 2014, and especially Caneva 2016. While I do not always agree with his conclusions, Hazzard 2000 also offers useful perspective. The historical revisionism of

34  On Zeus’ Kingship review in detail what is known about that first transfer of power because the modern treatments of the period tend to be brief and overly confident of the transition’s successful outcome, much as later dynastic propaganda wanted it to be remembered.49 Such teleological accounts flatten a discourse that was freighted with anxiety and doubly contested: first, in that there were multiple claimants to Ptolemy’s throne and second, after four decades of Soter’s leadership it would have been difficult to imagine anyone, let alone a young prince, assuming his place. The joint celebration of the Basileia, Ptolemy II’s genethlia, and the co-​regency in 285 represents an effort by the state to influence this discourse from the top down. In his Hymn to Zeus Kallimachos must navigate this situation in order to assert his own value as a poet capable of shaping perceptions and contributing to royal prerogatives.50 Even under the best of circumstances, the transfer of power from one ruler to the next could invite upheaval and chaos.51 Those who did not learn this lesson from the abrupt dissolution of Alexander’s empire might have been further edified by the failure of both Antipatros (d. 319) and his son Kassandros (d. 297) to put in place mechanisms ensuring a smooth dynastic succession. Ptolemy had several offspring old enough to aspire to his throne, reason enough for concern about whether his kingdom would outlast him.52 In 285 Ptolemy Keraunos, his first-​born son, was close to thirty and desperately coveted kingship, if his subsequent efforts to usurp the thrones of other kingdoms are any indication. Magas, Berenike I’s son, whom Ptolemy had adopted, had been installed as governor in Kyrene (c.300 bce) ahead

Ptolemaic dynastic propaganda might be fruitfully compared with the strategy of ex eventu prophecy also common in Hellenistic and Roman Egypt; see Koenen 1983. 49 Hölbl 2001:36 (=Hölbl 1994:33) presents a teleological narrative, remarking that “the accession of Ptolemy II did not go uncontested” and providing a brief paragraph of detail. Worthington 2016:201–​4 provides much more detail, but nevertheless characterizes the eventual outcome as unproblematic. Huss 2001:253–​54 provides more detail and hints at the dynamic between the “Ansprüche konkurrierender Kräfte.” Carney 2013:22–​27 gives a fuller account of the tension between Philadelphos and Keraunos but neglects to mention Magas and the troubles in Kyrene. 50 See Chapter 3 on Kallimachos’ treatment of the role of praise poetry and kingship in the Hymn to Zeus. 51 Svolik 2012 offers a useful analysis of power-​sharing and transition in post–​World War II authoritarian regimes, which is instructive even in our ancient context mutatis mutandis. See also Scheidel forthcoming. 52 Apart from the outcomes of Hellenistic dynastic succession, which tended to favor eldest sons, we have little evidence for legal or cultural norms relating to how a king’s successor should be chosen. Neither Ptolemy II Philadelphos nor Ptolemy III Euergetes was an eldest son and while the historical record of their ascensions is lacunose, each case involved the contentious displacement of an older claimant to the throne—​Ptolemy “Keraunos” and Ptolemy “the Son,” respectively. Collins 2000:65–​ 67 and Strootman 2014a:103 describe primogeniture as the predominant, thought not only, determination in Hellenisitic succession. See also Mitchell 2013:105–​11.

Zeus as a Paradigm for Dynastic Continuity  35 of Keraunos despite the fact that both sons were close in age; such favor may have made Magas expect that he was a strong candidate for promotion to kingship as well.53 And then there was Berenike’s son Ptolemy, who was barely embarking on his twenties when his father entered his eighties. Though factions likely formed around all three sons, Ptolemy ultimately selected the youngest of them sometime during the first half of the 280s for elevation to co-​regency in 285. Shut out, Magas withdrew to Kyrene and established himself as king in that region, and Keraunos left Egypt to join his sister, the future Arsinoë II, in Makedonia. Neither appears to have considered the matter settled. The death of Ptolemy I made Ptolemy II sole ruler in 283 and stirred simmering animosities that threatened the collapse of his kingdom. Lysimachos’ failed dynasty provides an important counterexample of such a threat realized, since succession intrigue led to the execution of his heir Agathokles in 284 and ultimately to the dissolution of that kingdom upon the king’s death in 281. In addition to Keraunos and Magas, Pausanias records two further brothers who revolted against Ptolemy II, following his ascension to the throne.54 One of those said to be plotting against the new king was Argaios, who had been prominent enough to lead the ceremonial transfer of Alexander’s body from Memphis to his final resting place in the new capital of Alexandria some years earlier. Another was a now anonymous son of Eurydike who instigated rebellion on Kypros in an effort to detach it from Ptolemaic control and establish his own sovereignty, following the death of his father. Ptolemy II had both executed. That nothing more is known of these failed usurpers may be attributable to the regime’s interest in eliminating them from memory, but it stands to reason that they were full brothers of Ptolemy Keraunos, who was already abroad plotting his own power play at the court of Lysimachos. In addition to purging these rivals, Philadelphos also exiled members of court like Demetrios of Phaleron, who had supported the unsuccessful claimants to the throne, effectively silencing competing discourses.55 One of the most consequential details that the standard narrative of the Ptolemaic succession minimizes is the loss of Kyrenaika, a prosperous territory that made up over a third of Soter’s domain. Having ruled this substantial 53 Although it became normative to expect a firstborn son to be heir apparent, this norm had not yet been established and a successor need not necessarily have been a blood relation, as in Antipatros’ choice of Polyperchon as successor. 54 Pausanias 1.7.1. The parentage of Argaios has aroused some debate; see Worthington 2016:115. 55 Diogenes Laertios 5.78–​79 records that Demetrios was exiled to upper Egypt for advocating on behalf of Keraunos; he died shortly thereafter.

36  On Zeus’ Kingship territory for over fifteen years as Soter’s deputy, Magas had a considerably larger power base than the other claimants, making him far more dangerous and difficult to eliminate. Whether as a direct result of Ptolemy’s succession or as a byproduct of the hostilities that it bred, Magas took the title basileus, brokered a marriage alliance for himself with the rival Seleukids, and ultimately mounted an offensive attack against his half-​brother. While opportunistic Libyan nomads pursuing an unrelated agenda ultimately thwarted his campaign, Magas did succeed in putting Ptolemy II on the defensive and drained his resources by coordinating with the Seleukids to compel Egypt to prepare for military action on multiple fronts.56 Furthermore, Magas managed to force Philadelphos into a draw, ruling Kyrenaika as a sovereign province down into the 260s.57 While the loss of Kyrenaika may well have occurred after the publication of Kallimachos’ hymn, it nevertheless constitutes an important reminder of the difficulties the dynasty had in maintaining the stability it projected. The Ptolemaic Basileia of 285 not only celebrated Philadelphos’ birthday and co-​regency, but in doing so it also provided a compelling counter-​ narrative to the one I have just elaborated. While we lack details about this event, we can infer from Philadelphos’ later use of dynastic festivals that it was orchestrated to promote dynastic ideology.58 More likely than not, it was but one of the initiatives sponsored by the Ptolemies to underscore this self-​ representation, “publicly demonstrating the legitimacy and power of the dynasty, its good fortune, and its triumphs over adversity.”59 Berenike I’s chariot victory at the Olympic Games the following summer should be seen as part of this same program.60 If, as some have suggested, this victory occurred in the same year as those of Ptolemy I and Ptolemy II, then the sweep of chariot events must have sent a strong message to a Panhellenic audience regarding the dynastic succession celebrated the year prior in Alexandria. Though perhaps in conjunction with Philadelphos’ later efforts, Posidippos’

56 Paus. 1.7.1–​3; Polyaen. 2.28. Chamoux 1956 remains the most plausible reconstruction of the chronology. Around this same time a portion of Philadelphos’ fleet was busy suppressing piracy in the Red Sea. 57 The border between Egypt and Magas’ kingdom was not, as is often implied, hermetically sealed. While relations between the neighbors may have been tense, there is no evidence to suggest a complete separation between them. For this perspective, see Marquaille 2008:44n.23. 58 See Caneva 2016 as well as a more detailed discussion in Chapter 6. 59 Bennett 2005:93. 60 Hannah 2005:35–​41 describes the difficulty of dating the Olympic Games. On Ptolemaic dynastic self-​definition in Posidippos, see Kosmetatou 2004 and Fantuzzi 2005. More broadly, see Hintzen-​Bohlen 1990, Hintzen-​Bohlen 1992, Pfeiffer 2008a, Müller 2009, and Fulińska 2011.

Zeus as a Paradigm for Dynastic Continuity  37 Hippika celebrated these and other victories in a way that reinforced dynastic ideology by inscribing the Ptolemies within a grand Panhellenic narrative that provided precedent and legitimacy for their kingship.61 Regardless of whether it was connected formally to the Basileia festival itself, Kallimachos’ Hymn to Zeus very likely belongs to the same period and should be read similarly as staking out a position within this contested political discourse.

Zeus’ Anti-​Dynastic Ascension In stark contrast to the stability and continuity projected in the transition from Ptolemy I to Ptolemy II, Zeus’ regime was forged in a crucible of anarchy, usurpation, and patricide. The primary continuity between Kronos and Zeus as kings in the Hesiodic myth would have been unhelpful in the Ptolemaic context, since it involves the just king’s paradoxical replication of his father’s tyrannical suppression of threats of usurpation posed by his own children. Such associations with Zeus were pervasive, and he was in many ways paradigmatic throughout antiquity for the violent relationship between father and son.62 This paradox between justice and usurpation inherent in Zeus’ biography made him an apt model for the ghastly cycle of revenge in Aeschylus’ Oresteia.63 At a loss for how to proceed, the Chorus in the Agamemnon evokes Zeus as a paradigm (160–​83). Rather than idealizing Zeus’ kingship, their hymn constructs internecine violence and suffering as indispensable components of the god’s regime that analogize it to their own political situation.64 In Plato’s Euthyphro, Euthyphro cites the paradox as a commonplace, which he adduces in defense of his own impiety toward his father.

61 Posidippos A-​B 78, 87, and 88 celebrate the Olympic chariot victory (victories?) of a Berenike. Though there is debate about which Berenike is meant in each instance, there is a consensus that Berenike I won an Olympic victory and 284 has been seen as the most likely date of that triumph; See Bing 2002–​3:253n.23, Fantuzzi 2005, Thompson 2005, Bennett 2005:93, Lapini 2007:290–​91, Huss 2008, Di Nino 2010, Carney 2013:151n.93, Clayman 2014:66–​67 and 143–​58, and Hose 2015:299–​ 303, 315–​17. 62 Wellisch 1954:11 and 22, Clay 1989:71–​74, Strauss 1993:10, 13, 104, 208, Shapiro 2003, Neils and Oakley 2003:204–​5, Bowlby 2007:146–​68. On threats to Zeus’ regime in archaic epic, see Yasumura 2011. See further discussion in Chapter 5. 63 Todd 1925, Lloyd-​Jones 1956, Lloyd-​Jones 2003, Golden 1961, Golden 1962, Grube 1970, and Nussbaum 1985. See further discussion of this Aeschylean “Hymn to Zeus” in Chapter 3 pp.100–​1. 64 See too Zeus’ characterization in Aeschylus fr. 281a Radt.

38  On Zeus’ Kingship For these same people acknowledge Zeus to be the most excellent and most just of the gods, and yet they agree that he fettered his own father for unjustly swallowing his children, and that Kronos in turn had castrated his father for other similar reasons. And yet they are angry at me for indicting my father for wrongdoing, and so they contradict themselves, saying one thing about the gods and another about me.65

Despite the Platonic reductio ad absurdum, the appeals to Zeus in the Agamemnon and Euthyphro speak both to widely held views of the god’s paradoxical nature as well as to a heuristic by which myth was figured as relevant to ethical and even forensic discourse.66 Already by the early classical period, Hesiod’s Theogony was considered the locus classicus for the myth of Zeus and Kronos. Their violent relationship constitutes a subset of a more pervasive cycle of Father-​Son violence perpetuated throughout the generations of ruling gods. The violence of the cycle is bidirectional. Having slain and supplanted his own father, he is preemptively violent toward his son in anticipation of being similarly overthrown. The dynamic constitutes a potentially infinite loop as each son grows up to become his father. Kronos, for instance, castrated his oppressive father, Ouranos, and then oppressed his own children out of fear that they, in turn, would depose him (Theogony 459–​67): καὶ τοὺς μὲν κατέπινε μέγας Κρόνος, ὥς τις ἕκαστος νηδύος ἐξ ἱερῆς μητρὸς πρὸς γούναθ’ ἵκοιτο,  460 τὰ φρονέων, ἵνα μή τις ἀγαυῶν Οὐρανιώνων ἄλλος ἐν ἀθανάτοισιν ἔχοι βασιληίδα τιμήν. πεύθετο γὰρ Γαίης τε καὶ Οὐρανοῦ ἀστερόεντος οὕνεκά οἱ πέπρωτο ἑῷ ὑπὸ παιδὶ δαμῆναι, καὶ κρατερῷ περ ἐόντι, Διὸς μεγάλου διὰ βουλάς.  465 τῷ ὅ γ’ ἄρ’ οὐκ ἀλαοσκοπιὴν ἔχεν, ἀλλὰ δοκεύων παῖδας ἑοὺς κατέπινε· Ῥέην δ’ ἔχε πένθος ἄλαστον. 65 Euthyphro 5e–​6a: αὐτοὶ γὰρ οἱ ἄνθρωποι τυγχάνουσι νομίζοντες τὸν Δία τῶν θεῶν ἄριστον καὶ δικαιότατον, καὶ τοῦτον ὁμολογοῦσι τὸν αὑτοῦ πατέρα δῆσαι ὅτι τοὺς ὑεῖς κατέπινεν οὐκ ἐν δίκῃ, κἀκεῖνόν γε αὖ τὸν αὑτοῦ πατέρα ἐκτεμεῖν δι’ ἕτερα τοιαῦτα· ἐμοὶ δὲ χαλεπαίνουσιν ὅτι τῷ πατρὶ ἐπε ξέρχομαι ἀδικοῦντι, καὶ οὕτως αὐτοὶ αὑτοῖς τὰ ἐναντία λέγουσι περί τε τῶν θεῶν καὶ περὶ ἐμοῦ. 66 It is unsurprising that Plato hints at the questionable truth-​value of the myth (ταῦτα ἀληθῆ φῶμεν εἶναι, ὦ Εὐθύφρων; 6c), since such stories about the gods are central to his attack on poetry (e.g., Republic 377e–​378b, Laws 886b). For Plato’s refashioning of the Hesiodic Zeus, see Capra 2010. Robb 1994:83–​84, 169–​73 discusses this passage of the Euthyphro and similar appeals to poetic exempla in forensic contexts.

Zeus as a Paradigm for Dynastic Continuity  39 And mighty Kronos swallowed them down, one by one as they came from their sacred mother’s womb to her knees, with the intent that no other of the noble Ouranians should possess the kingly honor among immortals. For he learned from Gaia and starry Ouranos that it was fated for him to be vanquished by his son, even though he was powerful, through Zeus’ plan. And so Kronos did not fail to be vigilant, rather he kept watch and swallowed his own children; and Rhea suffered inconsolably.

Hesiod is explicit about Kronos’ motivation, describing how he protects his position as king (βασιληίδα τιμήν, 462) because he fears being conquered by his son (ὑπὸ παιδὶ δαμῆναι, 464). Hesiod underscores the injustice of Kronos suppressing his offspring, Zeus in particular, by depicting it as infanticide and cannibalism.67 Hesiod describes Zeus securing power in terms that stress conflict and violence against his mighty and crooked father68 (Theogony 490–​96): ὅ μιν τάχ’ ἔμελλε βίῃ καὶ χερσὶ δαμάσσας  490 τιμῆς ἐξελάαν, ὁ δ’ ἐν ἀθανάτοισιν ἀνάξειν. καρπαλίμως δ’ ἄρ’ ἔπειτα μένος καὶ φαίδιμα γυῖα ηὔξετο τοῖο ἄνακτος· ἐπιπλομένου δ’ ἐνιαυτοῦ, Γαίης ἐννεσίῃσι πολυφραδέεσσι δολωθείς, ὃν γόνον ἂψ ἀνέηκε μέγας Κρόνος ἀγκυλομήτης,  495 νικηθεὶς τέχνῃσι βίηφί τε παιδὸς ἑοῖο. By vanquishing [Kronos] though the strength of his hands, Zeus was at once destined to knock him from his position, and rule among the gods himself.And so swiftly then did the lord’s might and shining limbs increase; and after the passage of time, having been deceived by Gaia’s clever suggestions, mighty Kronos, crooked of counsel, vomited back up his offspring, having been conquered by the skill and strength of his own son. 67 As evidenced by the fact that they are unharmed when he vomits them back up, Kronos does not actually kill his children by swallowing them. Mondi 1984:339 asserts that the version of the succession myth presented in the Theogony is far less violent than other accounts. Thus by implication, Kronos’ consumption is tantamount to infanticide. 68 See Chapter 2 for further discussion of kingship and crooked justice.

40  On Zeus’ Kingship Hesiod’s description is emphatic and vivid, stressing the physicality of the violence as Zeus conquers Kronos through force of hands (βίῃ καὶ χερσὶ δαμάσσας, 490) and exiles him from his position of power (τιμῆς ἐξελάαν, 491)  in order to become king in his place (ἀνάξειν, 491). The shocking Father-​Son dynamic is highlighted again just a few lines later with special emphasis on Kronos being vanquished by his own son (παιδὸς ἑοῖο, 496). Largely as a result of this violent cycle of succession forming the “backbone” to Zeus’ quintessential praise poem,69 the antagonistic Father-​Son relationship became a fundamental aspect of Zeus’ biography. Unlike Ptolemy II’s rise to power, which resulted in the exile of some brothers and the murder of others, Zeus’ regime is generally characterized as just largely because of his fair distribution of honors among the gods. For Hesiod, this counterbalances the cycle of reciprocal violence and legitimizes Zeus’ rise to power by contrasting his good governance with his father’s tyranny. Whereas Kronos is criticized for leaving gods like Styx emphatically “without honor or reward” (ἄτιμος ὑπὸ Κρόνου ἠδ’ ἀγέραστος /​τιμῆς καὶ γεράων, 395–​96), Zeus is praised for correctly distributing powers among gods as soon as he became king (Theogony 881–​85): αὐτὰρ ἐπεί ῥα πόνον μάκαρες θεοὶ ἐξετέλεσσαν, Τιτήνεσσι δὲ τιμάων κρίναντο βίηφι, δή ῥα τότ’ ὤτρυνον βασιλευέμεν ἠδὲ ἀνάσσειν Γαίης φραδμοσύνῃσιν Ὀλύμπιον εὐρύοπα Ζῆν ἀθανάτων· ὁ δὲ τοῖσιν ἐὺ διεδάσσατο τιμάς.  885 It was then that the blessed gods brought the task to fulfillment, having forcibly settled the issue of honors with the Titans, then at Gaia’s suggestion they urged far-​seeing Zeus to be lord and king of the immortals; and then he fairly divided up the honors among them.

The juxtaposition between assuming absolute power and then dividing it up among the gods “well” (i.e., fairly) is the signal difference between a just Zeus and his “crooked-​minded” (ἀγκυλομήτης, 495) predecessor, Kronos.70 The prominence afforded this act at the poem’s climax recalls the similarly 69 West 1966:18 and 31. 70 Notably, the older generation of gods, the Titans, were deprived of their τιμαί if they sided with Kronos in opposition to Zeus.

Zeus as a Paradigm for Dynastic Continuity  41 important position of the distribution of τιμαί (112) in the invocation to the Muses, where the poet describes essential aspects of the narrative to come. Finally, Zeus’ most important weapon, the ultimate symbol of his power, the thunderbolt (κεραυνός), would unavoidably call to mind Philadelphos’ older brother (Κεραυνός), whose claim to the throne was a significant threat to the dynastic stability asserted by the very occasion Kallimachos’ hymn celebrates. Every major author who discusses Zeus makes reference, usually frequent reference, to his keraunos.71 Kallimachos himself discusses the weapon in other hymns (3.118, 4.78), Iambus 5 (fr. 195.20 Pf.), and Aitia 3 (fr. 75.64 Harder) as well as famously remarking on “thundering” as characteristic of Zeus in the Aitia prologue (βροντᾶν ούκ ἐμὸν ἀλλὰ Διός, fr. 1.20 Harder); Apollonios explicitly identifies it as a fundamental aspect of Zeus’ fame (γηγενέες Κύκλωπες ἐκαρτύναντο κεραυνῷ, /​βροντῇ τε στεροπῇ τε· τὰ γὰρ Διὶ κῦδος ὀπάζει, 1.510–​11); Theokritos depicts Zeus protecting Kastor by smiting his enemies with the “flaming bolt” (αὐτὸν δὲ φλογέῳ συνέφλεξε κεραυνῷ., 22.211). The weapon is so central to Zeus’ identity that it appears as an epithet in literary and epigraphic sources; Zeus Keraunios “Zeus of the Thunderbolt” as well as Zeus Keraunos “Zeus the Thunderbolt” are attested in Makedonia (homeland of the Ptolemies),72 in Olympia (a favorite site of competition for Ptolemaic elites),73 and in Arkadia (the setting for Kallimachos’ hymn).74 That the association between Zeus and his thunderbolt was strongly felt in Alexandria is corroborated by the iconography of the coins in greatest circulation throughout the Ptolemaic realm during the 280s.75 Moreover, while the origins of Ptolemy Keraunos’ epiklesis are unknown, it almost certainly stems from an effort to endow the Ptolemaic prince with a portion of the Zeus ideology so heavily cultivated by his father.76 71 κεραυνός is mentioned in conjunction with Zeus with such frequency in Greek poetry that it is essentially synonymous with the god himself: Homer (12×); Hesiod (5×); Pindar (6×); Aeschylus (9×); Euripides (19×); Sophokles (7×); Aristophanes (5×); Apollonios (8×). Zeus is also described by the epithet keraunios (e.g., Arist.Mu.401a17, I.Milet.1(7).278). 72 Chrysostomou 1989–​91:25–​28. For the importance of Zeus’ keraunos in Seleukid imagery and cult, see Ogden 2017:107–​9. 73 Barringer 2010:162–​74 discusses representations of Zeus Keraunios and suggests that many of the extant bases at Olympia once supported images of Zeus Keraunios. For the bronze figures, see Schwabacher 1962; for the altar of Zeus Keraunios, see Pausanias 5.14.6. 74 A recently discovered bronze tablet from Arkadia (c. 500 bce), which details the schedule of events for a three-​day festival connected with the Zeus sanctuary on Mt. Lykaion, specifies offerings for Zeus Keraunos in Arkadia in conjunction with the Olympic games, Carbon and Clackson 2016. See also IG V.2.288 (fifth century bce)., Mantinea). 75 See Figure 1 on p. 30. 76 Muccioli 2013:153–​55 provides extensive discussion of the epiklesis with relevant parallels.

42  On Zeus’ Kingship

The Persuasive Rhetoric of Political “Correction” These well-​known aspects of Zeus’ kingship were detailed in classic and contemporary works from Hesiod’s Theogony to Euhemeros’ Sacred History and likely had purchase on the imagination of every individual in Kallimachos’ audience.77 Such a portrayal of Zeus would have undermined the message of stability and continuity cultivated by the Ptolemies to smooth tensions caused by a bitterly contested succession. Although the Hymn to Zeus engages with and even explicitly calls to mind earlier works that emphasize the Zeus paradox and his rise to power, especially the Theogony, Kallimachos reshapes their narratives to transform Zeus into a figure capable of underwriting rather than compromising the power-​sharing arrangement and peaceful transition from Ptolemy I to his son Ptolemy II.78 Michael Haslam claims that a prominent intertext, like the Theogony for Kallimachos’ hymn, is “something that is there, a constant presence behind the text, an icon with power . . . liable at every moment to make its presence actively felt.”79 While this point may well be true, Hunter and Fuhrer raise an important question that qualifies it: “can a reader’s receptiveness to explicit allusion be controlled in such a way as to block off (as far as possible) unhelpful associations and echoes; is one of the criteria of ‘rightness’ in reading knowing how far to read ‘intertextually’ and when to stop?”80 For Kallimachos’ hymn, we might ask how and whether the poet can block off, or perhaps mitigate, associations that run contrary to his encomiastic objectives. By comparing the poet’s marked and unmarked “corrections” of the three indecorous elements of Zeus’ mythic biography discussed previously, we can see that the poet’s hyperbole in marked corrections distracts from and thus mitigates his more politically consequential, unmarked

77 A figure connected with the court of Kassandros not more than a generation earlier, Euhemeros seems likely to have described the divine succession in violent terms in his Sacred History, De Angelis and Garstad 2006:212–​13. 78 Compare Aeschylus’ task in reshaping his pro-​democracy Persians for a command performance at the court of the tyrant Hieron, Libran Moreno 2005:67–​157, Duncan 2011, and Garvie 2009:liii–​lvii. 79 Haslam 1993:119, referring to the impact of Apollo’s famous birth narrative in the Homeric Hymn to Apollo on the interpretation of Kallimachos’ Hymn to Delos. 80 Hunter and Fuhrer 2002:169 with reference to further discussion in Hinds 1998. To understand what is at stake here it is important to distinguish two interrelated yet distinct processes at work in the interaction between author and audience: audiences’ interpretations are multiple, varied, and not wholly dependent on the will of the author; authors, likely aware of this, still attempt to exert control over their audiences’ interpretations. Asper 2001 envisions intertexts as aimed at a narrower subset of the poet’s audience.

Zeus as a Paradigm for Dynastic Continuity  43 corrections. Through both types of correction, Kallimachos renegotiates his honorand’s immutable past in an effort to persuade his audience of the truth of his own narrative and his ability to contribute to reshaping the broader political discourse surrounding the Ptolemaic succession.81

Marked versus Unmarked Correction In crafting his hymn Kallimachos makes countless choices between competing traditions and, despite a claim elsewhere to “sing of nothing unattested,” surely introduces more than a few inventions of his own.82 Yet the poet comments on only two such choices in the Hymn to Zeus, and in both cases appears to refute a particular tradition by calling into question its truth-​ value. Kallimachos accuses Kretans of lying about Zeus and then claims that the ancient poets were not truthful when they described how rule of the kosmos was divided up by lottery.83 While these claims are important to the construction of poetic authority, as has been discussed extensively,84 they should not be seen as merely pedantic attempts to distinguish between true and false mythographic accounts. Instead, I argue that Kallimachos activates the motif of the ambiguity of poetic truth and falsehood best known from the proem of Hesiod’s Theogony (27–​28) as part of a rhetorical ploy to achieve his encomiastic strategy. Thus, Kallimachos uses paradoxical claims about false traditions to distract from his more consequential changes that realign Zeus’ biography with contemporary political exigencies.

81 Kallimachos appears to draw significantly from Pindar’s similar avoidance of infanticide and cannibalism associated with the Pelops myth in Olympian 1, as noted by Smiley 1919 and detailed by Fuhrer 1988. An epinikian ode honoring Hieron of Syracuse’s victory in the single-​horse race in 476 bce, Olympian 1 has been called “the most salient and self-​assertive example of literary revisionism in Greek mythology,” Hubbard 1987:3. There is a massive bibliography on this ode and especially on this topic, including Young 1968, Köhnken 1974, Cairns 1977, Farenga 1977, Howie 1983, Sicking 1983, Nagy 1986, Hubbard 1987, Fuhrer 1988, Verdenius 1988, Griffith 1989: esp. 197ff., Brillante 1991, Burgess 1993, Hamilton 2001, Steiner 2002, Vöhler 2005, and especially Morgan 2015:209–​59. 82 Fr. 612 Pf.: ἀμάρτυρον οὐδὲν ἀείδω. For further discussion of Kallimachos’ unplaced aphorism, see n.111, this chapter. For the poet’s discussion of the difficulty of his task, see Chapter 3. 83 This has often been seen through the prism of the pedantic and quarrelsome Hellenistic poet, a persistent stereotype that is overly dependent on caricatures and the later biographical tradition of the poets. 84 The bibliography on truth, lies, and poetic authority is vast and only a sampling can be offered here; inter alia, see Hopkinson 1984b, Goldhill 1986, Clauss 1986, Fuhrer 1988, Cameron 1995:371, Pretagostini 1995:163–​65, Stephens 2003:79–​89 and 113–​14, Heiden 2007, Morrison 2007: esp. 120–​ 22, Barbantani 2011:185–​86, Fantuzzi 2011 on Kallimachos and Detienne 1967, Pratt 1993, Gill and Wiseman 1993, Calame 2005, and Mitsis and Tsagalis 2010 for a broader perspective.

44  On Zeus’ Kingship Kretans and Continuity In order to resolve conflicting traditions regarding Zeus’ birthplace, Kallimachos adduces the famous Kretan liar paradox by quoting the Kretan poet Epimenides85 (1.8–​9): ‘Κρῆτες ἀεὶ ψεῦσται’· καὶ γὰρ τάφον, ὦ ἄνα, σεῖο Κρῆτες ἐτεκτήναντο· σὺ δ’ οὐ θάνες, ἐσσὶ γὰρ αἰεί. “Kretans always lie”; for the Kretans even built you a tomb, Lord above; but you are not dead, you are forever.

The poet’s treatment of the dilemma and its resolution “is accomplished via a moment of textual and geographic duplicity,”86 since the poet accommodates both traditions rather than choosing between true and false accounts, as he implies. Indeed, Kallimachos appears to incorporate many details from Epimenides of Knossos’ Kretan version of Zeus’ birth narrative despite his apparent rejection of Kretan liars.87 What has received far less attention, however, is Kallimachos’ supplementary comment stressing Zeus’ eternity. The final two feet of the line, “for you are forever” (ἐσσὶ γὰρ αἰεί, 1.9), re-​emphasize one of the poet’s initial characterizations of the god as “forever mighty, forever lord” (ἀεὶ μέγαν, αἰὲν ἄνακτα, 1.2). While the adverb “forever” might normally be seen as a qualifier subordinate to the description of Zeus as “mighty” and “lord,” Kallimachos’ repetition and variation (ἀεὶ, αἰὲν, αἰεί) subtly yet compellingly make the point that “foreverness” is one of Zeus’ most important qualities. Overshadowed by his rebuke of the lying Kretans, Kallimachos’ assertion of Zeus’ “foreverness” appears incidental, to be accepted unquestioningly. Nevertheless, this stands as a powerful statement about the continuity and stability of Zeus’ regime in stark contrast to the anxiety so often expressed in Greek poetry about the absence of the gods and their disinterest in human affairs.88 Indeed, when 85 Important discussions of this passage include Goldhill 1986 and Lüddecke 1998 on the ambiguity of voice; Cuypers 2004:102–​5 on the philosophical references; and Stephens 2003:77–​114 on the geopolitical and multicultural significance in an Egyptian context. 86 Acosta-​Hughes and Stephens 2012:154. 87 Kaczyńska 2016 argues that, despite the apparent rejection, Kallimachos does make use of Epimenides’ account. 88 E.g., Od. 24.351 “O father Zeus, if the gods are still upon holy Olympos,” Ζεῦ πάτερ, ἦ ῥα ἔτ᾽ ἔστε θεοὶ κατὰ μακρὸν Ὄλυμπον; S.OC.623 “If Zeus is still Zeus,” εἰ Ζεὺς ἔτι Ζεὺς. Similarly, compare the contrast drawn between absent gods and present kings in the Lindian Chronicle (see p. 29) and Hermokles’ ithyphallic hymn for Demetrios Poliorketes (see pp. 242–​3).

Zeus as a Paradigm for Dynastic Continuity  45 the Chorus in Sophokles’ Elektra says that “Zeus, who oversees and rules all things, is still mighty in the heavens” (ἔτι μέγας οὐρανῷ /​Ζεύς, ὃς ἐφορᾷ πάντα καὶ κρατύνει, 174–​75), it is in response to Elektra’s anxiety about having been abandoned in her plight. Old Poets and the Distribution of Power In the second half of the hymn, Kallimachos again raises the issue of truth and lies in poetic discourse, calling into question the account of ancient poets (e.g., Homer) who said the kosmos was divided up among the gods by a lottery (1.57–​67): ἀλλ’ ἔτι παιδνὸς ἐὼν ἐφράσσαο πάντα τέλεια· τῷ τοι καὶ γνωτοὶ προτερηγενέες περ ἐόντες οὐρανὸν οὐκ ἐμέγηραν ἔχειν ἐπιδαίσιον οἶκον. δηναιοὶ δ’ οὐ πάμπαν ἀληθέες ἦσαν ἀοιδοί·  60 φάντο πάλον Κρονίδῃσι διάτριχα δώματα νεῖμαι· τίς δέ κ’ ἐπ’ Οὐλύμπῳ τε καὶ Ἄϊδι κλῆρον ἐρύσσαι, ὃς μάλα μὴ νενίηλος; ἐπ’ ἰσαίῃ γὰρ ἔοικε πήλασθαι· τὰ δὲ τόσσον ὅσον διὰ πλεῖστον ἔχουσι. ψευδοίμην, ἀίοντος ἅ κεν πεπίθοιεν ἀκουήν.  65 οὔ σε θεῶν ἑσσῆνα πάλοι θέσαν, ἔργα δὲ χειρῶν, σή τε βίη τό τε κάρτος, ὃ καὶ πέλας εἵσαο δίφρου. Though you were young, you thought all things through fully; it was for this reason that your brothers, though older, did not begrudge you having the Heavens as your allotted home. The ancient poets were not at all truthful; they said lots set the three-​way split of homes for Kronos’ sons; but who would draw lots for Olympus and Hades, except someone truly foolish? It is reasonable to draw for equal shares; but these are different as can be. I would tell lies of the sort that persuade my listeners. Lots did not make you the gods’ king-​bee, it was your hands’ deeds, your force and strength, which you sat near your throne.

As Simon Goldhill has pointed out, Kallimachos qualifies the truthfulness of the ancient account in an ambiguous, even paradoxical, way. For οὐ πάμπαν

46  On Zeus’ Kingship ἀληθέες can be construed as “in no way at all true” or “not altogether true.”89 Paradoxically, both the hyperbolic and the qualified sense are in play here, as I argue in detail in Chapter 2, since Kallimachos means to discredit the notion of a lottery that fairly distributes realms among claimants in favor of a paradigm in which honor and power are won through force of hands. At the same time, Kallimachos endorses the truthfulness of the Homeric account of Zeus’ power in Iliad 15, the most famous source for the lottery myth. By carefully alluding to the speech in which Poseidon unsuccessfully argues that the lottery made him coequal with Zeus, Kallimachos distinguishes between Poseidon’s futile claim to power and Homer’s true depiction of Zeus’ supreme kingship.90 Instead of mounting an argument in defense of the principle “might makes right,” which would justify the uneven outcome among the siblings competing for Ptolemy’s throne, Kallimachos sets up an almost comical straw-​man argument with the ancient poets such that only a “complete nincompoop” (μάλα νενίηλος, 1.63) would disagree.91 As above in the Kretan paradox, he persuades his audience tacitly to accept without directly evaluating the more consequential claim about kingship and the distribution of power. Fathers and Sons Refigured Erasure of the violent antagonism between father and son in the Zeus myth would have only partially satisfied Kallimachos’ project of creating a counter-​narrative that jointly praises the Ptolemaic father and son. The poet makes good on his encomiastic task by scrupulously avoiding any mention of Ptolemy Keraunos, the dispossessed son of the retiring king, and minimizing Kronos, the tyrannical father Zeus usurped to become king. In their place, Kallimachos subtly conflates Zeus the Father and Zeus the Son to create a figure who would represent the continuity of the

89 Goldhill 1986:28–​29. 90 On the matter of Zeus’ birth order, Kallimachos follows Hesiod rather than Homer in making Zeus the youngest brother in order to heighten the parallel with Ptolemy II. While he does not mark this departure as dramatically, he does indicate that seniority would be a logical qualification for kingship. A pair of concessive statements indicate as counterintuitive that Zeus’ youth, relative to other gods, was in no way a disadvantage to him. “Although he was still a child” (ἀλλ’ ἔτι παιδνὸς ἐὼν, 57), Zeus was already in possession of perfectly developed mental faculties. Furthermore, while they would have been expected to, Zeus’ brothers did not resent (οὐκ ἐμέγηραν, 59) him having possession of the choicest home, Olympos, despite their seniority (γνωτοὶ προτερηγενέες περ ἐόντες, 58). 91 On Kallimachos’ coinage of νενίηλος and striking use of μάλα, see McLennan 1977:  ad loc. Kallimachos creates characters like the νενίηλος throughout the Hymns to contrast with an implied “In-​Group”; see further discussion of the ἀλιτρός in Chapter 4.

Zeus as a Paradigm for Dynastic Continuity  47 Ptolemaic dynasty while downplaying the contentious politics of the royal family.92 Without calling attention to the departure from tradition Kallimachos omits Zeus’ primary weapon, the κεραυνός “thunderbolt,” from the Hymn to Zeus because mentioning it would have raised the specter of Philadelphos’ chief rival for the throne, Ptolemy Keraunos.93 This polysemy, made awkward by the political situation surrounding the hymn, was not entirely coincidental, since both the hymn and the epiklesis draw on Ptolemaic royal ideology in which Zeus figures as the primary symbol of kingship. Throughout much of his life, first-​born son Ptolemy Keraunos presumably expected to succeed his father Ptolemy I Soter, and his epiklesis likely reflects his incorporation into the heavily Zeus-​based royal ideology. It is uncertain when he took on this epiklesis, but the complete absence of the term from Kallimachos’ hymn, where it is both relevant and expected, strongly suggests that the omission was motivated by exigent circumstances.94 Indeed, Pheidias omitted the thunderbolt from his statue of Zeus at Olympia, which Kallimachos describes in a fragmentary poem, in order to distance the god from contemporary associations with tyranny and violence.95 The success of Kallimachos’ subtle omission may be measured by the fact that it has never before attracted comment from scholars. By eschewing Zeus’ thunderbolt, Kallimachos avoids bringing up the name of the dispossessed son and exiled brother who might have been made king, but ultimately was not.96

92 Petrovic 2016:168–​76 discusses the family as a unifying motif in the hymns and points to its avoidance of intra-​familial strife. 93 Compare the discussion of using figured speech with rulers in Demetrios On Style 293: “Such [figured speech is useful] especially in the company of tyrants; for example Philip, because he was one-​eyed, would get angry if anyone said the name Cyclops around him or said the word ‘eye’ at all,” Πολλὰ δὲ τοιαῦτα παρὰ τοῖς τυράννοις, οἷον Φίλιππος μὲν διὰ τὸ ἑτερόφθαλμος εἶναι ὠργίζετο, εἴ τις ὀνομάσειεν ἐπ’ αὐτοῦ Κύκλωπα ἢ ὀφθαλμὸν ὅλως. 94 Kallimachos is not reluctant to mention the κεραυνός elsewhere; the word appears three times in his extant works, which is actually a fairly high number, since besides this hymn and a fragmentary poem describing the statue of Zeus at Olympia (which did not feature the thunderbolt), little of Kallimachos’ surviving poetry deals with Zeus. See p. 41 for the frequency of κεραυνός in other poets and for a discussion of its importance in Ptolemaic coinage and the Zeus cults of Makedonia, Arkadia, and Olympia. See Muccioli 2013:153–​55 on the epiklesis. 95 Anagnostou-​Laoutides 2011. For a survey of other explanations for the missing keraunos of the Pheidias Zeus, see Burton 2011. 96 Clauss 1986:160–​70 makes a strong case for an allusion to the Homeric Hymn to Hermes by adducing several lexical parallels, which he argues call to mind the friction between Philadelphos and his brothers and suggest the poet’s ability to mitigate the new king’s grief. I accept much of his argument, but would suggest that the effect of Kallimachos’ allusion to the playful rivalry between Hermes and Apollo is to downplay and indeed trivialize the matter, as he does with Rhea’s anxiety over Zeus’ birth and everyone’s anxiety over Apollo’s birth (see p.165 ).

48  On Zeus’ Kingship Kallimachos further distances his narrative from the anti-​dynastic cycle of usurpation that is elsewhere central to the Zeus myth by minimizing the importance of Kronos.97 Although Zeus’ journey from birth to throne is the subject of over a third of the hymn, no mention is made of the antagonistic Father-​Son dynamic so prevalent in archaic poetry about Zeus discussed previously. In fact, Kronos is almost entirely absent, mentioned twice indirectly as part of the patronymic Κρονίδης (1.61 and 1.91) and only once by name (1.52–​54): οὖλα δὲ Κούρητές σε περὶ πρύλιν ὠρχήσαντο τεύχεα πεπλήγοντες, ἵνα Κρόνος οὔασιν ἠχήν ἀσπίδος εἰσαΐοι καὶ μή σεο κουρίζοντος. And the Kourētes danced a war dance all-​round you clashing their armor, so that Kronos would hear the sound of their shields and not that of your youthful noises.

Particularly in conjunction with the unelaborated references to Zeus growing up secretly (κρύφα, 1.34) in a cave (κευθμόν, 1.34), the audience may well recall the potential danger Zeus faced in infancy from his murderous father in the Theogony. Instead of pretending that Zeus’ birth did not occasion anxiety, Kallimachos refigures this angst in quotidian terms of a mother’s desperation at finding water to bathe her newborn (1.16–​32) and a father’s annoyance at hearing a wailing child (σεο κουρίζοντος, 1.54).98 Consonant with the depiction of Zeus as the “eternal king” (1.2), the throne Zeus acquires has no prehistory in Kallimachos’ hymn, because the poet has skillfully kept the succession myth at a distance, presenting in its place a version of Zeus’ accession in keeping with the preferred depiction of the Ptolemaic accession.99 97 The “Myth of the Ages” from Hesiod’s Works and Days (109–​201) demonstrates an alternative depiction of Kronos. There, his reign in the heavens (οὐρανῷ ἐμβασίλευεν, 111) is associated with the Golden Age and implicitly better than Zeus’ regime; see Couloubaritsis 1996:509ff. Petrovic 2016:175 remarks on the contrast between the “spectacularly dysfunctional Olympian family” of the earlier tradition and Kallimachos’ harmonious depiction (save Hera’s disruption). 98 Rhea’s search for a stream is discussed in great detail in Chapter 3. See Chapter 4 for the contrast between this passage and Kallimachos’ depiction of Zeus as a father who dotes on his “still childish offspring” (παῖς ἔτι κουρίζουσα, 3.5) in the Hymn to Artemis. Kallimachos similarly refigures the anxiety surrounding Apollo’s birth by focusing on Hera as a jealous mother instead of Apollo as a potential usurper; see discussion in Chapter 5. 99 Cf. Kallimachos’ fable in Iambus 2, which admonishes against slandering Zeus, perhaps playfully (?), Acosta-​Hughes 2002:182. See further discussion of the ideology of kingship Kallimachos does present in Chapter 2.

Zeus as a Paradigm for Dynastic Continuity  49 In concert with his efforts to minimize Kronos in the Hymn to Zeus, Kallimachos refigures the antagonistic Father-​Son dynamic in a new and positive light by emphasizing the duality in the figure of Zeus himself. Zeus the Father and Zeus the Son are explicitly juxtaposed several times throughout the hymn. The first instance occurs during the discussion of Zeus’ contested origins, where Zeus is addressed as “father” (πάτερ, 1.7) in the midst of a discussion about his birth (γένος, 1.5; γενέσθαι, 1.6). At the conclusion of Rhea’s search for a stream, Zeus the Father is addressed as “lord” (ἄναξ, 1.33), and in the same breath Zeus the Son is swaddled (τεὸν σπείρωσε, 1.33). Similarly, a vocative address to “Father Zeus” (Ζεῦ πάτερ, 1.43) is juxtaposed with Zeus the Son losing his umbilicus (ὀμφαλός, 1.44). Near the end of his infancy, Zeus the Son’s status as a youth is shown verbally (κουρίζοντος, 1.54) just before he bursts out of his infancy and shoots up toward adulthood and is addressed in terms of his royal domain as “Ouranian Zeus” (καλὰ μὲν ἠέξευ, καλὰ δ’ ἔτραφες, οὐράνιε Ζεῦ, 1.55). Finally, the double χαῖρε that concludes the hymn emphasizes this same duality, since the first χαῖρε is addressed to Zeus in his capacity as Son (Κρονίδη, 1.91) and the second in his capacity as Father (πάτερ, 1.94). Zeus’ dual role as both Father and Son is marked throughout the Hymn to Zeus, especially at the beginning (1.5–​7), middle (1.43–​44; 1.54–​55), and end (1.91–​94).100 Seen in the context of Kallimachos’ emphasis on Zeus’ dual role as both Father and Son, the scholarly concern with identifying Zeus allegorically as one of the Ptolemies gives way to a reading that links the god to both Soter and Philadelphos.101 Both Ptolemaic kings shared the name Πτολεμαῖος, which would in short order become the dynastic name given to first-​born sons and every successive Makedonian king of Egypt.102 Thus, the ambiguity 100 Kallimachos may have drawn inspiration from Pindar’s Pythian 1, a victory ode for Hieron’s chariot victory in 470 that praises his kingship and joint rule with his son Deinomenes, titular βασιλεύς of the newly founded Aitna (P.1.60); for a thorough study of the poem’s engagement with political ideology, see Morgan 2015:300–​358. Burton 1962:108–​9 and Köhnken 1970 offer opposing viewpoints on whether the poet’s advice is meant for father or son; though she does not see Pythian 1 as an example, Kurke 1991b examines Pindaric ambiguity in the joint praise of father and son. 101 The three candidates usually advanced for the reference to “our lord” (ἡμετέρῳ μεδέοντι, 1.86) are Soter: Carrière 1969 and Hussey 1973; Magas of Kyrene: Meillier 1979:61–​78 and Laronde 1987:366; Philadelphos: Richter 1871, Rostagni 1916:58–​59, Cahen 1930, Tandy 1979, Clauss 1986, Cameron 1995:10, Stephens 2003:77ff. McLennan 1977 and Hopkinson 1984b abstain. McKay 1962b:14–​18 proposes that links between the Ptolemies and the individual figures in the poem shift throughout the hymn, but he maintains the assumption of one to one correspondence. Fantuzzi 2011:444 takes a largely similar view to my own. 102 Posidippos (ἐγὼ [Π]τολεμαίου ὁμώνυμος, A-​B 88.3) and Theokritos (αἰχμητὰ Πτολεμαῖε /​αἰχμητᾷ Πτολεμαίῳ, 17.56–​57 and ὃ δὲ πατρὶ ἐοικώς /​παῖς ἀγαπητὸς ἔγεντο, 17.63–​64) also emphasized this dynastic homonymy in their praises of Ptolemy Philadelphos, Fantuzzi and Hunter 2004:401. Ptolemy Soter’s eldest sons by Eurydike and Berenike were both named Ptolemy (Keraunos

50  On Zeus’ Kingship in the equation Ζεύς = Πτολεμαῖος would have been well suited to this hymn. Furthermore, the presentation of dual Zeuses and dual Ptolemies would have suggested a conflation that might have assuaged anxieties, at least partially, over the transition between Ptolemy I and II. If this is the case, then the famed Kretan liar paradox discussed previously is invested with a further layer of meaning. “You [sc. Zeus/​Ptolemy] do not die, for you are forever” (1.9). Here, the parallel between Zeus Father/​Son and Ptolemy Father/​ Son implies a figurative immortality achieved through the continuity of the Ptolemaic dynasty.

The Persuasive Paradeigma and the Effects of Figured Speech Kallimachos sets up a prosperous Ptolemy as the paradeigma that proves his claim that Zeus richly rewards good kings. This stands in contrast with the typical arrangement in encomiastic discourse, where the primary honorand is a roughly contemporary figure whose praise is bolstered by a secondary example from the distant past with far greater fame.103 Zeus hardly needs Ptolemy to vouch for his omnipotence or generosity. Thus, Kallimachos’ formal paradeigma is tongue in cheek; it unsubtly implies an inverse paradeigma and thereby makes the tacit argument that Ptolemy’s prosperity proves that he is a good king. In miniature, this inversion of the rhetorical figure calls our attention to the way in which Zeus and the Zeus-​hymn itself function as a paradeigma that proves something about Ptolemaic kingship, particularly in the context of the dynastic festival.104 Earlier we saw how rhetorical theory casts the paradeigma as a figure designed to persuade listeners by exploiting their sense of familiarity with a concept they already accept.105 In this way the paradeigma is an effective tool of rhetoric because and Philadelphos, respectively). Philadelphos also appears to have had at least two sons named Ptolemy (“the Son” and Euergetes), though one was likely an adopted stepson. See Carney 2013:77 and Strootman 2014a:100. This practice and Kallimachos’ exploitation of the ambiguity fits more broadly within what Svenbro 1993:64–​79 calls “the culture of mimesis” whereby a son, especially one named for his father or other ancestor (e.g., Pindar O.9.64), was a sort of facsimile of his father. 103 Cf. Aristotle Rhetoric 1356b2. Although Pindar is the most obvious example, there is great variety in how his mythic paradeigmata relate to his primary honorand, Young 1971. Homeric paradeigmata present more straightforward analogies. 104 This reading of Kallimachos’ hymn brings it into greater alignment with another hymn likely composed in conjunction with another Ptolemaic festival. Theokritos’ Hymn to Ptolemy Philadelphos (Idyll 17) begins more conventionally by opening with a proemial hymn for Zeus that establishes a degree of analogy between the god and Ptolemy; the bulk of the hymn then goes on to praise the earthly king explicitly. See pp.23—​4. 105 See p.28.

Zeus as a Paradigm for Dynastic Continuity  51 it entices the audience to view a conclusion as its own rather than one externally imposed.106 While the use of paradeigmata as a means of manipulating an audience is theorized in rhetorical texts, its origins can be traced back to our earliest poetic works, such as when Achilles uses a myth about Niobe eating in order to convince the grieving Priam to eat in Iliad 24.601–​19.107 Malcolm Willcock describes the implicit argument of this and other Homeric paradeigmata as follows: “You must do this, because X, who was in more or less the same situation as you, and a more significant person, did it.”108 In several instances the persuasive details of the myth, such as Niobe eating despite her grief, are not elsewhere attested. Since the poet does not give any explicit indication of invention, many critics have assumed that the reference is to a now lost variant tradition. Willcock, however, argues that this is a credulous assumption and that Achilles (and thus the poet) fabricates a relatively minor detail in order to create the parallel that makes the myth persuasive in a given situation.109 While it may ultimately be impossible to resolve this crux to everyone’s satisfaction since it relies on the (non-​)existence of non-​extant sources, it points to a dynamic that is worthy of consideration, particularly in the case of Kallimachos’ poetry. Whether the poet is faithfully reporting a variant version of the myth is immaterial, since the strategy’s persuasiveness does not appear to rely on the audience knowing the variant. In order for the paradeigma to be readily accepted by the audience, it must appear to be familiar. Thus, a sufficiently authoritative speaker might make an invention appear familiar if, for example, his audience was distracted, or the altered details were plausible or incidental.110 It is not difficult to imagine such a strategy being effective for Kallimachos, a poet who so carefully constructs his authoritative persona as a master of obscure 106 Toohey 1994. Despite his disavowal of rhetoric, Plato is well known for exploiting such paradeigmata in his dialectic. Complex and consequential concepts such as kingship almost require paradeigmata, as the Eleatic Stranger argues in the Statesman 277a–​278e. See Chapter 2 for a discussion of Kallimachos’ possible engagement with Plato’s treatment of kingship in the Statesman, cf. discussion on Kallimachos and Plato in Acosta-​Hughes and Stephens 2012:23–​83. On paradeigmata in the Statesman, see Scodel 1987, Lane 1998, and Pender 2003. 107 On the relationship between Homer and the origins of rhetoric, see Knudsen 2014. 108 Willcock 1964:141. 109 Willcock 1964. See also Willcock 1977, Andersen 1987, Andersen 1993, Nagy 1996:113–​46, and Alden 2000:23–​47, 292–​94. 110 Pratt 1993:98 examines the ainos Odysseus tells to Eumaios (Od. 14.463–​506) in conjunction with fabricated paradeigmata. For the relationship between ainos and paradeigma, see Nünlist 2009:262n.19.

52  On Zeus’ Kingship variants, many of which may have been unknown to a large portion of his audience. It certainly raises the question of whether we should so credulously take at face value the authoritative posture of the Kallimachean aphorism “I sing of nothing unattested” (ἀμάρτυρον οὐδὲν ἀείδω, fr. 612 Pf.).111

111 Generally understood in conjunction with the so-​called “Hellenistic footnote” (e.g., Bing 1988:36), Cameron 1995:353 connects this fragment with persuasive discourse in the context of something that is difficult to believe. Bulloch 1985b:570 is similarly suspicious of the standard interpretation of this famous quotation; cf. Bulloch 1985a:161–​62 on Kallimachos’ Bath of Pallas 56.

2 Kallimachos’ Hymn “On Kingship” Threats of usurpation aside, the Greek tradition widely regarded Zeus’ kingship as absolute. For Homer and Hesiod he was the “father of gods and men”; Plato called him “ruler and king of all things”; Korinna remarked, “Zeus is father and king of all” (fr. 1a.13 PMG); and Kleanthes effusively styled him as “most glorious of the gods, many-​named, ever all-​powerful, chief of nature, piloting all things with law.”1 For his part Kallimachos elected to describe Zeus more succinctly as “ever great, ever lord” in the opening of his hymn. While the verses that follow make it clear that his praises focus on Zeus’ kingship, the variety of terms and images Kallimachos uses to describe that role (ἄναξ, βασιλεύς, ἑσσήν, πτολίαρχος, μεδέων) emphasize the multiplicity and complexity inherent in the concept. Indeed, the nature of supreme kingship in the kosmos was the subject of intense debate. Refiguring Zeus as an abstract principle, Heraklitos claimed, “War is father of all things and king of all things”; Plato offered, “Mind is our king of heaven and earth”; Khrysippos expanded on a claim made earlier by Pindar stating, “Law is king of all things.”2 These variations on the same essential concept constitute attempts to impose conceptual order on the powers that govern the kosmos. No less contentious was a related debate about kingship in political communities. Treatises “On Kingship” as well as political discourse more broadly were intent on working out the nature of power and its uses in poleis, regions, and across vast swaths of the oikumene.3

1 Od. 20.112: Ζεῦ πάτερ, ὅς τε θεοῖσι καὶ ἀνθρώποισιν ἀνάσσεις (et passim). Hesiod Theogony 47: Ζῆνα θεῶν πατέρ’ ἠδὲ καὶ ἀνδρῶν. Plato Cratylus 396a8: ὁ ἄρχων τε καὶ βασιλεὺς τῶν πάντων. Korinna fr. 1a.3.13 PMG: Δεὺς πατεὶ[ρ πάντω]ν βασιλεύς. Kleanthes Hymn to Zeus 1–​2: Κύδιστ’ ἀθανάτων, πολυώνυμε παγκρατὲς αἰεί, /​Ζεῦ φύσεως ἀρχηγέ, νόμου μετὰ πάντα κυβερνῶν. 2 Heraklitos fr.53 D-​K:  Πόλεμος πάντων μὲν πατήρ ἐστι, πάντων δὲ βασιλεύς. Plato Philebos 28c:  νοῦς ἐστι βασιλεὺς ἡμῖν οὐρανοῦ τε καὶ γῆς. Khrysippos SVF 3.314:  ὁ νόμος πάντων ἐστὶ βασιλεὺς (cf. Pindar fr. 69 S-​M, Herodotos 3.38, Plato Gorgias 484b4). For Kallimachos’ engagement with philosophical discourse, see Cuypers 2004. 3 Treatises on kingship proliferated in the Hellenistic period as Greeks negotiated the new political landscape that emerged after the death of Alexander, Murray 1971. See the Introduction for further discussion of these treatises. The New Politics of Olympos: Kingship in Kallimachos’ Hymns. Michael Brumbaugh, Oxford University Press (2019). © Oxford University Press. DOI: 10.1093/oso/ 9780190059262.001.0001

54  On Zeus’ Kingship Hymning the paradigmatic king from whom all other kings derive their rule, Kallimachos articulates an ideology of kingship that renegotiates poetic concepts of justice reaching back to the beginnings of Greek literature.4 Despite minimizing the internecine father-​son dynamics of the traditional Zeus myth, Kallimachos emphasizes throughout his hymn that political power is predicated on physical power. This harsh political reality would have figured as a source of pride for a strong regime claiming more victories than defeats. Over the second half the of the hymn, the poet subtly subordinates the brute strength that endowed Zeus with power to the judicious exercise of justice that the king must cultivate in order to rule. Asserting inequality as a fundamental premise of the hymn’s ideology, Kallimachos sets out a hierarchical structure in which everything and everyone is under the power of a single supreme authority. He then expands his discourse on what underwrites Zeus’ superiority and rightful claim to kingship by incorporating a broader range of kingly virtues and situating justice as the king’s chief prerogative. Finally, Kallimachos suggests a robust relationship between kings and poets, who can mediate the king’s speech and thereby manifest his power. Much of his refinement of this presentation of kingship emerges through his intertextual engagement with Homer’s Iliad and the proemial hymns opening both the Works and Days and the Theogony.

Greatness, Justice, and the Politics of the Homeric Lottery From the very beginning of his hymn Kallimachos aligns kingship with greatness, designating his honorand as “ever great, ever lord” (ἀεὶ μέγαν, αἰὲν ἄνακτα, 1.2). Ahead of any of Zeus’ many other attributes, Kallimachos chooses μέγας, which refers to physical stature (“mighty”) as well as more abstractly to a certain quality of character (“great”). The term’s openness is further evidenced by the fact that μέγας had long been applied to great and wicked kings alike—​including both Zeus and Kronos in the Theogony.5 4 Morgan 2015, Nicholson 2015, and Hornblower 2006 explore a similar line of inquiry with Pindar. See also Clay 1989, Hammer 2002, Hammer 2004, Irwin 2005, and Scully 2015 for further readings of the political dimensions of archaic poetry. 5 In addition to Greek hostility toward foreign “Great Kings” particularly Persians (e.g., Aeschylus Persai 24, Herodotos passim), μέγας is used to describe despicable Greek kings, such as in Hesiod’s effusive rebuke of the tyrant Pelias combines “great king” and “overbearing, arrogant, reckless, and doing violent deeds” (μέγας βασιλεὺς ὑπερήνωρ, /​ὑβριστὴς Πελίης καὶ ἀτάσθαλος ὀβριμοεργός Th. 995–​96).

Kallimachos’ Hymn “On Kingship”  55 This ambiguous polyvalence reflects a long-​running debate about the politics and ethics of power as it relates to justice in which μέγας Zeus can be made to serve as an example of both the evenhanded and the abusive exercise of power.6 While Kallimachos strenuously avoids negative exempla in this hymn so as not to exacerbate real-​world tensions, he does not shy away from defining Zeus’ greatness and by implication, ideal kingship, in polarizing terms that privilege physical force. To put it another way, Kallimachos’ choice of the ambiguous μέγας could be interpreted as implying that the king’s “greatness” stems from his “might.” The poet signals his engagement with this discourse on the nature of power and justice by calling to his audience’s attention a famous debate between Poseidon and Zeus in the Iliad. In doing so, Kallimachos tacitly endorses the Iliadic depiction of Zeus practicing “might makes right” justice, presenting an ideology of universal kingship familiar and agreeable to his Ptolemaic audience.

Becoming King Despite presenting Zeus’ regime as inevitable and permanent, Kallimachos dedicates a significant portion of his hymn to working out how the “always king” became king.7 In the course of narrating Zeus’ ascension the poet sets out seniority (1.57–​59), lottery (1.60–​66), and accomplishment (1.66–​67) as possible routes to kingship, rejecting the first two in favor of the third (1.57–​67): ἀλλ’ ἔτι παιδνὸς ἐὼν ἐφράσσαο πάντα τέλεια· τῷ τοι καὶ γνωτοὶ προτερηγενέες περ ἐόντες οὐρανὸν οὐκ ἐμέγηραν ἔχειν ἐπιδαίσιον οἶκον. δηναιοὶ δ’ οὐ πάμπαν ἀληθέες ἦσαν ἀοιδοί·  60 φάντο πάλον Κρονίδῃσι διάτριχα δώματα νεῖμαι· τίς δέ κ’ ἐπ’ Οὐλύμπῳ τε καὶ Ἄϊδι κλῆρον ἐρύσσαι, 6 Lloyd-​Jones 1971 is an important treatment of the issue in the archaic and classical periods to which Versnel 2011:162 adds the important caveat about “the persistent and pervasive lack of consistency” in ancient Greek discourses on the matter. 7 Hesiod’s Theogony and other mythological narratives teleologically presuppose the emergence of Zeus’ kingship, but its inevitability and stability are regularly portrayed as under threat from competing regimes (e.g., his predecessor Kronos as well as failed usurpers); see, e.g., Slatkin 1986, Clay 1989, and Yasumura 2011. Chapter  1 details how Kallimachos dehistoricizes Zeus’ throne and downplays the existence of dynastic strife familiar to the Zeus myth in order to achieve his encomiastic aims.

56  On Zeus’ Kingship ὃς μάλα μὴ νενίηλος; ἐπ’ ἰσαίῃ γὰρ ἔοικε πήλασθαι· τὰ δὲ τόσσον ὅσον διὰ πλεῖστον ἔχουσι. ψευδοίμην, ἀίοντος ἅ κεν πεπίθοιεν ἀκουήν.  65 οὔ σε θεῶν ἑσσῆνα πάλοι θέσαν, ἔργα δὲ χειρῶν, σή τε βίη τό τε κάρτος, ὃ καὶ πέλας εἵσαο δίφρου. Despite being still a child, you thought everything out perfectly; And thus, for this reason, despite being born ahead of you, your kin did not begrudge you having the heavens as your allotted home. But the time-​honored poets were not at all truthful; They said a lottery set the three-​way split of homes for Kronos’ sons; But who would draw lots for Olympus and Hades, who but an absolute fool? It makes sense to cast lots for equal portions; but these are far apart as can be. When I tell lies, let them persuade the ear of the listener. Lots did not make you king of the gods, it was the work of your hands, your strength and your might, which you set near your throne.

This passage is best known for Kallimachos’ rejection of the lottery myth and his wry rebuke of the untruthful poets who peddle it. What has gone unnoticed, however, is the fact that Kallimachos’ allusion to the lottery myth implicates him in a long-​running discussion about power and kingship. Although his rebuke of unspecified poets appears vague, Kallimachos’ description of the lottery refers to a specific discussion of that myth in the Iliad where it forms part of Poseidon’s argument against Zeus’ pretension to supreme power. In addition to rejecting a foolish way of determining who will rise to the height of power within a hierarchal system, Kallimachos takes Zeus’ side against Poseidon in the argument over authority and the use of physical power. The rhetoric of Kallimachos’ rejection of the ancient poets plays on ambiguities that offer two different reactions to the traditional tale of Zeus’ rise to power (δηναιοὶ δ’ οὐ πάμπαν ἀληθέες ἦσαν ἀοιδοί, 1.60). First, the adjective δηναιοὶ appears to mean “ancient,” as perhaps in Aeschylus’ Prometheus Bound 912, but its Homeric sense “long-​lasting” is also relevant, since the ancient account remains popular and relevant after so many centuries.8 Second, 8 Harder 2012:II.763 discusses the term and highlights two instances in which this double meaning seems to be present (Lykophron 145 and Leon.Tar.AP 9.25.2=101.2 G-P).

Kallimachos’ Hymn “On Kingship”  57 as Simon Goldhill has demonstrated, the phrase οὐ πάμπαν ἀληθέες can be construed as either “in no way at all true” or “not altogether true.”9 The hyperbolic rejection fits perfectly with the exaggerated rhetoric of Kallimachos’ straw man argument, which goes on to suggest that only a “nincompoop” (μάλα  .  .  .  νενίηλος, 1.63)10 would believe such an implausible story.11 Alternately, the qualified sense indicates that the account in question is partially (and perhaps mostly) true. What emerges from this double ambiguity is the fact that Kallimachos is employing two different levels of argumentation. The surface rhetoric of the passage invites an interpretation along the lines of “the poets of old were complete liars!” To support this claim Kallimachos adduces an eikos argument (1.63), a popular rhetorical proposition based on likelihood that appeals to common sense rather than specific knowledge.12 The rhetorical structure encourages the audience to reckon themselves superior to the fool who is taken in by the lottery myth, thereby siding against the old poets and aligning themselves with both Zeus and Kallimachos.13 For audience members persuaded by this rhetoric, Kallimachos’ apostrophe about lying seems to be further ridicule of the implausible, lying poets: “If I were going to lie, I’d at least be persuasive” (1.65). For audience members who are alert to Kallimachos’ rhetoric, this line appears as a tongue-​in-​cheek reference to the innocent misdirection of his eikos argument.14 This more rhetorically sophisticated audience may also pick up on a second level to Kallimachos’ argument, which is more subtle and accessible only to individuals familiar with the locus classicus of the lottery myth.15 Those who know the Iliad passage well—​either by rote or, perhaps, because they have it to hand—​will recognize Kallimachos’ entry into the debate on power and authority that underlies the ἔρις κρατερά “mighty 9 Goldhill 1986:28–​29. 10 νενίηλος: a hapax thought to indicate an empty or sluggish mind (scholia ψ 62–​63b). 11 Kallimachos explains that it makes sense to cast lots only when the stakes are equal (ἐπ’ ἰσαίῃ γὰρ ἔοικε πήλασθαι, 1.63–​64). Hades and Olympos, however, are as far from equal as possible (τὰ δὲ τόσσον ὅσον διὰ πλεῖστον ἔχουσι, 1.64) and only a complete fool would leave such a thing up to chance. 12 Plato and Aristotle were hostile toward eikos arguments like the one Kallimachos employs here, often associating them with the gullible crowd; see Tindale 2010:69–​82. 13 Compare with the figure of the alitros in the Hymn to Apollo, discussed in Chapter 4 pp.152–​9. 14 This characterization of the eikos argument as a lying discourse is treated in detail in Plato’s Phaedrus 272d–​274a, Bryan 2014. Such an audience would also be well acquainted with Hesiod’s Muses, whose lies resemble the truth (Th. 27–​28). 15 In addition to the verbal echoes, they might, for example, be sensitive to other Homeric coloring such as Kallimachos’ μάλα (1.63), which appears almost exclusively in direct speech in Homer, including in Poseidon’s exposition of the lottery myth (Il.15.206); cf. Griffin 1986:45.

58  On Zeus’ Kingship strife” between Poseidon and Zeus.16 For audience members thinking about Kallimachos’ hymn in this way, the ambiguous verse may read, “the time-​ honored poets had it mostly right.” Just as he refrains from naming Epimenides and Hesiod when he quotes them in the hymn, Kallimachos does not cite Homer by name and instead relies on his audience to recognize lexical echoes to confirm his intertext17 (Iliad 15.187–​92): τρεῖς γάρ τ’ ἐκ Κρόνου εἰμὲν ἀδελφεοὶ, οὓς τέκετο Ῥέα Ζεὺς καὶ ἐγώ, τρίτατος δ’ Ἀΐδης ἐνέροισιν ἀνάσσων. τριχθὰ δὲ πάντα δέδασται, ἕκαστος δ’ ἔμμορε τιμῆς· ἤτοι ἐγὼν ἔλαχον πολιὴν ἅλα ναιέμεν αἰεὶ  190 παλλομένων, Ἀΐδης δ’ ἔλαχε ζόφον ἠερόεντα, Ζεὺς δ’ ἔλαχ’ οὐρανὸν εὐρὺν ἐν αἰθέρι καὶ νεφέλῃσι· We three are from Kronos, brothers whom Rheia bore, Zeus and I [Poseidon], and the third is Hades lord of the men below. Everything was divided three ways, and each had a portion of honor. At that time, when the lots were shaken, I drew the grey sea to live in forever; Hades drew the misty darkness, and Zeus drew the wide heavens complete with aether and clouds.

Kallimachos links his hymn with this Homeric passage lexically by setting διάτριχα (1.61), νεῖμαι (1.61), and πήλασθαι (1.64) against the Iliad’s τριχθὰ (15.189), δέδασται (15.189), and παλλομένων (15.191). Strengthening the connection to the account he discredits, Kallimachos subtly embeds unusual vocabulary recalling this same passage in the verses before and after his rejection of the lottery myth. He chooses “apportioned” ἐπιδαίσιον (1.59), “land-​ shareholder” γεωμόρος (1.74), and “shield-​ shaker” σακέσπαλον (1.71) to evoke the process of dividing up (δέδασται, 15.189) portions (ἔμμορε,

16 Iliad 13.358. This struggle over divine kingship reflects the same struggle on the human level between Achilles and Agamemnon (e.g., 9.157–​61); see Wilson 2002:80. 17 Pindar also mentions the division by lots and, like Kallimachos, he cites precedent (φαντὶ δ’ ἀνθρώπων παλαιαί /​ῥήσιες, O.7.54–​55). According to the scholia, however, Pindar’s account was not actually attested in any other source suggesting that the attribution is a trope designed to cover up, rather than draw attention to, an innovation; see Fehr 1936:132ff., Young 1968:87, Bresson 1979:18–​21.

Kallimachos’ Hymn “On Kingship”  59 15.189) by shaking lots from a helmet (παλλομένων, 15.191), as described in the Homeric account.18 Kallimachos’ rejection of an unpersuasive myth allows his audience to have a laugh at the expense of lying ancient poets, but it also alludes to the enduring and essentially truthful, underlying account of Zeus’ power contained in the intertext. In Books 13–​15 of the Iliad, the gods repeatedly seek to undermine Zeus’ authority.19 Poseidon plays a key role in this test of Zeus’ kingship and the two brothers are described as engaging in a high-​stakes tug of war (13.354–​60). The lottery myth constitutes an important part of this Iliadic discourse on Zeus’ power, and Kallimachos’ allusion is best understood by looking at that larger context (Iliad 15.185–​99): ὢ πόποι ἦ ῥ’ ἀγαθός περ ἐὼν ὑπέροπλον ἔειπεν  185 εἴ μ’ ὁμότιμον ἐόντα βίῃ ἀέκοντα καθέξει. —​(See lines 187–​92 quoted previously)—​ γαῖα δ’ ἔτι ξυνὴ πάντων καὶ μακρὸς Ὄλυμπος. τώ ῥα καὶ οὔ τι Διὸς βέομαι φρεσίν, ἀλλὰ ἕκηλος καὶ κρατερός περ ἐὼν μενέτω τριτάτῃ ἐνὶ μοίρῃ. 195 χερσὶ δὲ μή τί με πάγχυ κακὸν ὣς δειδισσέσθω· θυγατέρεσσιν γάρ τε καὶ υἱάσι βέλτερον εἴη ἐκπάγλοις ἐπέεσσιν ἐνισσέμεν οὓς τέκεν αὐτός, οἵ ἑθεν ὀτρύνοντος ἀκούσονται καὶ ἀνάγκῃ. No, no. Even though [Zeus] is great, his speech is insolent if he forcibly restrains me against my will, despite being equal in honor. —​(See lines 187–​92 quoted previously)—​ But earth and high Olympos are common to all of us. Therefore I am not subject to Zeus’ plans, and despite his strength let him be content with his one-​third share. And let him stop threatening me with his hands, as if I were evil; For it would be better to use his threatening words to reproach those sons and daughters he sired, They will listen when he urges them, they have to.

18 ἐπιδαίσιον (