Heroes' Names, Homeric Identities

ALBERT BATES LORD STUDIES IN ORAL TRADITION VOL. 10

HEROES' NAMES, HOMERIC IDENTITIES

GARLAND REFERENCE LIBRARY OF THE HUMANITIES VOL. 1366

ALBERT BATES LORD STUDIES IN ORAL TRADITION JOHN MILES FOLEY General Editor ORAL TRADITION IN JUDAISM

The Case of the Mishnah by Jacob Neusner

HISPANIC BALLADRY TODAY by Ruth H. Webber COUNT CLAROS

Study of a Ballad Tradition

by Judith Seeger

MEMORIZATION IN THE TRANSMISSION OF THE MIDDLE ENGLISH ROMANCES by Murray McGillivray THE ORAL STYLE by Marcel Jousse translated by Edgard Sienaert and Richard Whitaker TURKIC ORAL EPIC POETRY

Traditions, Forms, Poetic Structure

by Karl Reichl

BEOWULF AND THE BEAR'S SON

Epic, Saga, and Fairytale in Northern Germanic Tradition by J. Michael SUtt

EWE COMIC HEROES

Trickster Tales in Toga by Zinta Konrad

HEROES' NAMES, HOMERIC IDENTITIES by Carolyn Highie DE GUSTIBUS

Essays for Alain Renoir

HEROES' NAMES, HOMERIC IDENTITIES

edited by John Miles Faley THE EPITHETIC PHRASES FOR THE HOMERIC GODS

(Epitheta Deorum apud Homerum) A Repertory of the Descriptive Expressions for the Divinities of the Iliad and the Odyssey compiled by James H. Dee

GRACIAS, MATIOX, THANKS

A Trilingual Anthology of Guatemalan Oral Tradition

Carolyn Higbie

edited by Jane Morrissey and M. Cristina Canales

ORAL POETICS IN MIDDLE ENGLISH POETRY edited by Mark C. Amodio

GARLAND PUBLISHING, INC. New York & London / 1995

to

Copyright © 1995 by Carolyn Higbie All rights reserved

JudyandSam

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-PubIication Data Higbie, Carolyn. Heroes' names, Homeric identities / Carolyn Higbie. p.

cm. - (Garland reference library of the

humanities ; vo!. 1366)

(Albert Wates Lord studies in

oral tradition ; vo!. 10) Includes bibliographical references and index. ISB� 0-8240-7270-7 1. Homer-Characters-Heroes. Greek-History and criticism. ogy) in literature. �ames.

4. Greek language-Etymology­

5. �ames, Personal, in literature.

Greek, in literature.

11. Series.

6. �ames,

7. �ames, Personal-Greece.

8. Oral tradition-Greece. I. Title.

2. Epic poetry,

3. Identity (Psychol­

9. Heroes in literature.

Ill. Series: Albert Bates Lord stud­

ies in oral tradition ; vo!. 10. PA4037.H64 883'.01-dc20

1995 94-19128 CIP

Printed on acid-free, 250-year-life paper Manufactured in the United States of America

GENERAL EDITOR'S FOREWORD The purpose of the Albert Bates Lotd Studies in Oral Tradition, with its companion journal Oral Tradititm, is to bring before an interdisciplinary constituency essays, monographs, and collections that, in focusing on one or more oral or oral-deri 'ed traditions, offer insights that can be useful for investigators in ma .y of the more than one hundred language areas now influenced by this field. Thus earlier volumes have treated orality and the Hebrew Mishnah (Jacob Neusner), Beowu!fand shamanism (Stephen Glosecki), the Hispanic ballad (Ruth Webber, editor), the

Count Claros ballad tradition (Judith Seeger), Marcel Jousse's The Oral Style (Edgard Sienaert and Richard Whitaker, translators), the Middle English romances (Murray McGillivray), B,owu!f and the Bear's Son Tale (J. Michael Stitt), Turkic oral epic (Karl Reichl), and Mrican ttickster tales (Zinta Konrad). More recent hooks in this series include a study of the Brother Peter folktale tradition from Guatemala, of oral poetics and Middle English verse, and of traditional phrases for the Homeric gods and goddesses, as well as occasional collections of articles on a variety of areas. The overall aim is to initiate and sustain conversations among scholars who, because of the categories according to which we are segregated in modern academia, seldom if ever have a chance to talk to one another. With this goal in mind, we extend a warm invitation to new voices to join the conversation-both as readers of these and other volumes and, hopefully, as aurhors with contributions to the ongoing discourse. Volume 10 of this series, Carolyn Higbie's Heroes' Names, Homeric is a distinguished contribution and one that I believe the

Identities,

honoree would have particularly relished. Relying on a comprehensive knowledge of Homer and other ancient sources as well as a full command of relevant scholarship, the author employs a combination of linguistic and literary methods to fashion a precise and illuminating account of the practices of naming in the Homeric poems. In doing so she slights neither the traditional oral patterns of name-giving-that is, their formulaic make-up-nor their rich implications: deriving ·tules for the assigning of names, she also uses those rules to good advantage in deepening the characterizations of many of the most important figures in the Illiad and

Odyssey.

Arguing that "naming, identity, and recognition are intertwined and must often be discussed together" (5), Higbie shows how the mode of identification signals one's place in the social fabric, with or without the addition of a personal history. Likewise, the suspension of customary practices, as in the case of Thersites, who as she notes is lacking not only a patronymic but also a genealogy aod a place of origin, is the more powerful and noteworthy because it plays against traditional expectation, calling this rootless individual into question even at _the level of (apparently) superficial identification. Myriad other issues are examined, among them word-play involving names, the possible evolutionary relationship between epithets and the proper nouns that constitute names in Homer, and the fact that the wonderully complex system of naming is not extended to the gods and goddesses. Throughout this admirable volume, Higbie addresses questions that have stood the test of time from new, extremely promising perspectives, giving the Homeric scholar a great deal to consider in subsequent studies. Both her incisive methodology and her lively awareness of the traditional implications of naming techniques will add much to our understanding of Homer, and to traditional ora! works beyond the horizon of ancient Greek

CONTENTS LIST OF TABLES PREFACE

CHAPTER ONE: INTRODUCTION

............................. .......................... ................................ ..................

CHAPTER Two: THE METRICAL UTILITY OF PATRONYMICS CHAPTER THREE: THE NAMING TYPE-SCENE

ENDNOTES

John Miles Foley

CHAPTER FIVE: THE FAMILY OF LAERTES

ENDNOTES

.... . .... ....................... ...... ..........

.... .. ........... ........ . ..... . ........ . ............. . ........... ........................... ............

... . ............................. . .........................................

.......... ............ . ..... . ....... ....... . ................................... ..........................

ApPENDIX: THE GENEALOGY OF OBJECTS ENDNOTES

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......... .......... . .......................... ..... . ......... . .......... .................. ... ............

CHAPTER SIX: CONCLUSION

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.......... . ............. ............. ..................... . ................. ..... . ...... .. ... . ...........

BIBLIOGRAPHY

.... ............ . .. ..... .............................................. .......................... .......

INDEX LOCORUM . ... . .. ..

.

.

....

SUBJECT INDEX ...... . . . . .

..

..

.

. .. .. .. . . . . . . . .

...

.

.

.

. . . .. ..

3 28 43 62

..

.

..

.

.....

vii

.

.

..

..

......

....

69 102

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...... ... ....... ...................................................... ...................... ......... .. ..

CHAPTER FOUR: NAMING WOMEN IN HOMER

ENDNOTES Center for Studies in Oral Tradition University of Missouri

.............

............... ........................ .... ...... ... ................. .................................. . ...

ENDNOTES

Xl

. ..... .............................. ....... .... . ..... ........... . . . .....

ENDNOTEs.. ENDNOTES

ix

............................... ............................ .... ...... . . ....................... . ..........

........................................................................................................................

...

.. ...... ..

.....

.

.

..

.

147 178 189 193 195 204 207

. . . . . 213 .

..

. . ..... . . .. . ..

III

136

..

.

....

..

. . 219 ..

LIST OF TABLES 2.1: PATRONYMICS FOR AKHILLEUS.................................

...58 ....59

2.2: PATRONYMICS FOR ODYSSEUS .... ... .. . . ....................... . .... 2.3: METRICAL SHAPES OF PATRONYMICS FOR .

..

. .. ...

..60 ..61 2.4: PATRONYMICS FOR ZEUS 2.5: THE LOCALIZATION OF / 'A,pdo1']s . . . . 63 2.6: FORMS OF THE NAMES AKHILLEUS AND ODYSSEUS . . . .. ......... 66 AKHILLEUS AND ODYSSEUS

. ... ...... ..... .. . . . . .

.... .

.

.

...

...

..... . . . .

..

.................................................

-

v

v

-

... ...................... .. . ...

. . . .

3.1: FORMULAE FOR TELLING THE TRUTH................... 3.2: FORMULAE FOR TELLING THE TRUTH IN Xenia . ..

. . .

.

.

.............. ..............80

3.3: VARIATIONS IN FORMULAE FOR TELLING THE TRUTH IN Xenia ........................................... . 4.1: PATTERNS OF NAMING FOR PENELOPE............ .

;y

. ....131

PREFACE Many friends and colleagues have been generous in helping this book become a reality. I owe much to John Miles Faley, for it was at his suggestion that I began to think that a study of patronymics might be mote than simply an analysis of metrical patterns. Mark Edwards, Gregory Nagy, and Joan Q'Brien have all read the entire manuscript in at least two drafts and made copious comments. Egbert Bakker and Margaret Winters both read and annotated Chapter Two. I hope that all will see in these pages a reflection of my gratitude for their efforts. One afternoon, Laura Van Abbema, a student, appeared at my office door at Southern Illinois University. She told me that she was interested to learn what academic life beyond the undergraduate level might be like and asked if she might help me with my research. As my research assistant in the early stages of this project, she labored diligently to track down bibliography and to obtain refetences beyond the libtary at Southern Illinois. May her efforts on this book encourage her to take the next step in the academic world! Without the talent and patience of G.L. Shomo) graduate student and computer whiz in the Department of the Classics at Harvard, this book would not exist in its present physical form. To him belongs the credit for producing something which is both pleasing to the eye and teadable-as I hope that those who venture beyond this preface will find it. His efforts were financed through the generosity of the Loeb Classical Library Foundation, for whose support I would like to thank Richard Tartant and Zeph Stewart. I am also gtateful to colleagues at Harvatd-particularly Albert Henrichs and Charles Segal-who read an earlier version of Chapter One and discussed it with me in careful detail during my job interview. Its new form owes a good deal to their astute observations. To Timothy W Boyd, I owe the most, because he has not only listened to me talk about the book, read innumerable drafts of it, and written ' pages of commentary on each draft, but also because he has continued to encourage me to remember the piano and the pleasure we both find in music. C.H. STOW, MASSACHUSETTS

CHAPTER ONE

INTRODUCTION The emperor Hadrian is said to have consulted the Delphic oracle, not on a matter of state, but, rather remarkably, on a literary issue. Using a variant of ail apparently standard question asked of the oracle, he sought to learn the identity of Homer's parents and the location of his birthplace. The Pythia replied (Certamen Horn. et Hes. 36-40): I

iJ.YV(fJenov 1-" epeat YeVeTJV KUt 1ta'p(OU yaiuv al-'ppocr(OD cretpfjVO<;. ;lOo<; 0' '18uK1\crto<; ""'tV, T'lA€l-'uxo<; oe nU'TJP KUt N"",ope'l 'EntK<xcr,'l I-'Tt''lP, 1ll-'tV enK<E Ppo,iiiv nOAD navcro'!'ov iJ.vopu. You ask me of the unknown birth and fatherland of the immortal Siren. His home is Ithaca, Telemalchos his father and Epikaste, daughter ofNestor, his mother, who bore him the most clever of men. From Delphi's perspective, then, when Homer sang of the Trojan War and of the Greeks' journey home, he did so as an !thacan, telling the story of his grandfather, Odysseus, and of his great-grandfather, Nestor. We have no record of Hadrian's reaction to this information, but, whatever it may have been, the oracle's reply, like Hadrian's question, suggests the importance accorded in the ancient world to family and homeland for one's identity, an importance which seems to have stretched across the cultures and epochs of the Mediterranean. Just as Homer in his time had identified his heroes by a patronymic and a homeland, later lovers of epic wished to know of the parents and native country of their poet. T hese same admirers of Homer were curious not only about his ancestty but about the very meaning of his name and they sought to understand it through etymology. Ancient scholars recognized two possibilities in 0l-''lp0<;: if it meant "hostage," it fit neatly with, or even generated, the story which said that Homer was a Smyrhaean named Melesigenes, but came to be called Homer after he had offered himself

3

4

Chapter One

as a hostage when the Aeolians took Smyrna. The second possibility was for OfJ.llpo<; to be nnderstood as the word for "blind" in Cumae, on the coast of Asia Minor, and competing stories about Homer's blindness were told.2 For modern readers of Homer, should they become interested in names, the issues are more complex. Not only must they decide whether etymologies are important to the understanding of a character,3 but they must also distinguish between twO kinds of etymologies. The first is that traditionally called "folk," derived by the ancients from some perceived similarity between tWo words because of their shared sounds.' The second could be called "scientific" and is based on linguistic principles developed during the last century of our own era. Although modern scholarship has been highly suspicious of the former, both forms of etymology might have their uses for us. In the case of our poet's name, for instance, the folk etymologies may not lead us very far towards a real "Homer," but they do offer us clues to ancient concepts of etymology and biography, whicb can in turn help us to understand better how the ancients tho� ght of Homer. Scientific etymology, based on comparatlve hngUlStlCS, can provide such intriguing suggestions as Gregory Nagy's, that Homer's name might be understood as meaning "'he who fits [the song] together,'" .. "5 from the I-E roots *som- "togerher" and *e2 r- "f': nt, JOIn. Consider also two possible etymologies offered for Penelope. In antiquity, her name was believed to reflect the trick she played o� her suitors in weaving the shroud for Laertes by day and undomg it by night-1t�vll (woof/thread) + 6M"",,, (to tear out) or A.E1t'" (to strip off). But, as Stephanie West observes, none of these words appears in any of the three Homeric tellings of this story (Od2.93-110, 19.138-56,24.128-46), nor does Homer encourage us to make this connexion by etymologizing Penelope's name himself.6 The second, or scientific, etymology postulates that Penelope's name is based upon that of the particolored duck, the 1tllVEA.01j1. Many parallels can be; Cited to show that Greek women were often given names denved from birds (e.g., Kirke- K(pm<; [hawk]). In his1990 book, Man in the Middle Voice, John Peradotto suggests that both the folk and scientific etymologies might be embraced and urges the reader to use more than one "fra�e" si�u!tan�o� which to see the story. He argues that, With a SCientlfic ) frame m place, a reader might understand Penelope's name to derive from the duck, thus linking her to a realistic ancient world, in which women's

Introduction

5

names are related to those of birds. At the same time, with a "poetic" frame, the reader, like his ancient predecessors, will see more than happenstance in the coincidence between Penelope's trick at the loom and the words nYtvl'b meaning «(woof," and Aoonr!, meaning "covering" or "robe."7 By reading with both frames in place, we may approach the poems in a way closer to that of earlier audiences and readers. But naming is not merely etymological play to Homer.' It is an im­ portant part of identity and status in the heroic world and the recognition of that identity and status by others. Joseph Russo makes this clear when he discusses Eurykleias recognition of Odysseus by his scat and her story of his naming:9 This narrative strucrure with elaborate flashback suggests that Homer feels the need at this point to re-establish Odysseus in his full biographical identity before continuing the forward movement of rapprochement between the hero and his wife. We have been told of Odysseus' birth, naming, and entry into manhood. All that is lacking now to complete the heroic identity is the reacquisition of his wife and his royal power over the Ithacans. Although I argue in ch. 5 that Odysseus must also be accepted by his father to complete his heroic identity, Russo's description is valuable and should be generalized: the most complete identity for a hero can include stories of his birth, naming, and becoming a man, the gaining of a wife and then a son, and the possession of power over local peoples. This context gives the Odyssey both its poignancy and its power, particularly after Odysseus has finally arrived on Irhaca, but lies behind much of the Iliad as well. The information provided for each warrior in the Catalogue ofShips, for example, or in Phoinix and Nestor's reminiscences, helps to establish, or re-establish, a warrior's identity in this heroic world. Thus, naming, identity, and recognition are intettwined and must often be discussed together. This first chapter is an exploratory essay into these related subjects. Names place a person in this world: they can reflect social class and skills or duties, or even provide a mini-biography, while their use may convey the relationship between the speaket and the one spoken to. Their etymologies and sounds can be significant, and'this can be manipulated through the addition of prefixes or word play. The root

6

Chapter One

-ovofl- and its compounds are employed as both Greeks and Trojans express rheir hopes for victory, their fears of dying, and their desires for fame. The naming patterns for gods are different from those for humans, just as gods and humans differ in so many other ways. Behind all of this play with naming we perceive a culture, tradition, and poet who saw in it great significance. Both Homer and the characters in the epics use names and patronymics for identification, but sometimes for different effects. Homer may give the name and a brief biography for a little-known hero or suitor, often when he is being killed, simply to convey the information, to flesh out his portrait of a battle scene, to honor a local hero, or to show off his own knowledge and abilities. Famous heroes are named by themselves and others not so much for the purpose of identification but for some emotional reason, to remind us of a hero's divine ancestry or descent from a powerful warrior. 10 For heroes such as Menelaos, Agamemnon, Diomedes, Nestor, Akhilleus, or Odysseus, the patronymic does not identifjr for the audience which Akhilleus, but reiterates for us Akhilleus' ancestry and its demands on him or the implications his ancestry has for the speaker. The way in which one is identified, then, conveys to the audience more information than name alone: to be identified by a proper name and a patronymic is clearly to belong to the higher social classes in the Homeric world. Most of the heroes who appear in Homer's Tray tale are regularly referred to by their proper name, fleshed out, often for metrical purposes, by the patronymic: of all the Greeks listed in the Catalogue a/Ships, for example, only six are not given a father's name somewhere in the Iliad. For the Trojan warriors listed after the Catalogue a/Ships, patronymics are much less frequent and are never given for seven of the twenry-seven heroes named there (112.816-77), which may suggest a lack of interest or of knowledge on the poet's patt. A few of the most prominent figures, such as Agamemnon, Menelaos, and Akhilleus, can even have their proper names replaced by their patronymic. II The patronymic can also be extended back a second generation, for some figures have a papponymic as well as a patronymic.12 Orestes, for instance, is both'Ayc'I.l£flVOvio!), (Od1. 30) and 'A,peiO!), (Od1.40).'3 Such patterns of naming, however, are not completely consistent, as N!)ATttoS is applied both toNestor and his son, Antilokhos, but, curiously, never ro Antilokhos' brother, Peisistratos, who is only N£<nopio!)s or m,nopo, "io,. Similarly, in

Introduction

7

Homer, Akhilleus never shares the papponymic AiuKio!), with Ajax or Teukros, although all were Aiakos' grandsons--Peleus and Telamon were sometimes identified as brothers, sons of Aiakos.'4 Ajax and Teukros do share T£AUllroVtOS, despite Teukros' illegitimacy, but they do not share T£AuIlOlvtaO!)s.15 Priam has the unique distinction of being both Auofl£OOVnao!), and il.upouvio!),. As the latter refers to Priarn's great-great-great-grandfather, it may have lost its weight as a patronymic, while retaining metrical convenience as well as perhaps lending a sense of great venerabiliry to Priam and to Troy. Although men (and women, to a lesser extent) in the higher social classes are thus regularly identified by patronymics, there are exceptions. When we examine the list of Phaeacian young men gathered for athletic contests in honor of the unidentified Odysseus (Od8.111-16, quoted below), we can see that all but the final two are given a personal name only. This would appear to be inconsistent with Homeric practice until we observe that everyone, except for Euryalos, who is named last, appears only in this scene, and thus we can see here another use for names.' The poet may employ lists of names like this not just for the pleasure in play with wordsl6 but to reinforce a desired picture or effect. These thirteen names, redolent of seafaring (e.g., 'AKPOV£Ol" Nu"",,,,, ITov",,,,-Tip-mast, Hull-man, Blue-water) may underscore the image of the exotic, otherworldly Phaeacians who have gathered to take a look at the stranger as well as to advertise to him-and the poet's audience-their strengths and abilities. I? Similarly, some of Pen elope's many suitors may be named during the battle with Odysseus (Od22.242-4 3) and at their moment of death (Od 22.266-68) to build a picture of the uneven odds between the suitors and Odysseus and his allies. Against such obviously superior numbers, his achievement becomes all the greater:18 just as on Scheria, Odysseus stands all but alone. In contrast to the upper classes, retainers and servants are, with rare exceptions, identified either by a flame alone or are not given even that, but identified by their job itself. We are told of afl<jlinOAOt Ofl'pu(l9 (e.g., 116. 375-76,9.658), a n8Ttv!) (e.g., 116. 389,467), and ,ufliat (e.g., //6. 381),20 for instance, but only very occasionally know their names. The importance of these people lies in the duties they fulfil!. A few who take a larger part in the narrative have not only names, bur personal histories. It may be significant that, commohly, they are not born into the lower classes but have come there through some

8

Chapter One

misfortune such as war or kidnapping. Odysseus' servan ts Eumaios and Euryldeia are both examples of this: Eumaios te�ls his guest how, as a boy, he was kidnapped by a Phoenician woman in his father's household, who claimed that she, toO, had been kidnapped by pirates (Od 15.403-84). Eumaios' father, K'1\
=

Introduction

9

completely named: although Kalkhas is variou sly described as a f,Lav",<;, oirovoltoAo<;, or oirovto,1\<; (seer, bird-augur, bird-foreteller), he IS never gIven a patronymic Or ethnic, and Teires ias is described simply as 0T]patou TetpEOtaO, / f,Lav",o<; CLAaou (Teiresias of Thebes blind seer [Od 10.492-93]). ' In the Iliad, heralds occupy a special position: they officiate in sacnfices and oaths (Il3.245, 272-74), and, as messengers, have divine pr�t��tion, perhaps signalled in adjectives such as tnt , Call ou: wherever you may go and order them to

assemble, addressmg each man with his patronymic, honoring them all; do not be arrogant in your spirit. Ironically, Agamemnon, who has provoked this crisis by slighting Akhllleus, urges Menelaos to address their closest fellow-leaders in

Chapter One

10

honorific terms. As Agamemnon shows in these verses, a patronymic singles a man out in a crowd; it gives him a context� membership in a high social class, and honor. A patronymic may also connect a man with the adventures and ac­ complishments of his father or grandfather-thus we are reminded that Diomedes is the son of the man who attacked Thebes, when Diomedes is given the patronymic Tuoe(oll S ! TuoeoS ul6s by the poet, who may also be hinting that he can sing other stories in addition to his current one.2B We, together with Homeric heroes, may then expect something of such a man and may reasonably criticize him if he fails. In rebuking scenes (see ch. 3), Agamemnon and Athena both compare Diomedes unfavorably with his father (114.368-400, 5.800-13) and Diomedes must defend himsdf from this when he argues that his ideas should be taken seriously by the other Greek leaders: although he is the youngest, he asserts, his pedigree compensates for his lack of years (1/14.110-27). Such genealogical expectations are played with most extensively in the case ofTdemakhos.29 Odysseus manipulates this genealogical tradition ominously in his address to the suitor Amphinomos. Though he begins his remarks conventionally enough (Od 18.125-29)'AfJ-q>tv0fJ-', � fJ-aAa fJ-Ot oOKEetS nenvtlfJ.EVOS etvat· 1:0t01) yap Kat1tU1:po<;. End KAEo<; eaS)."ov lh:01.)ov Ntaov LlOUAtxtTla E:0v "C' EJltV a
,

Amphinomos, indeed you seem to me to be bright, of such a father, whose fame I have heard of, Nisos, from Doulikhion, a sturdy and wealthy man. They say you are his son and you resemble a well-reared man. Because of this I speak-you listen and pay attention to me. -verse 129 suggests that Odysseus will not follow the conventional line of such remarks. Indeed, he does not, and offers his own (false) fate as a parallel, remarking that he too had been overly dependent on his father and family (nmpt " efJ-i{J ntatlVOS Kat ffJ-Otat Kaat­ yvl\,otat-trusting in my father and brothers [18.140]). In vain, the disguised Odysseus then urges Amphinomos to leave the palace before Odysseus returns home and makes a bloody reckoning. We see from this adaptation of the conventional greeting scene and from

Introduction

11

Odysseus' numerous lies based on a common story pattern in Homer, that belonging to the right social class and having a good patronymic will not of themselves guarantee the success of a man.30 Of all the Achaeans who are more than "spear-carriers," only Thersites stands out in the Iliad because he is given a name, bur lacks a patronymic, genealogy, and a place of origin.3' W ithout any or all of these, he is nearly impossible to place on the social scale of the Homeric world,32 and neither Homeric warriors nor the audience can kuow what to expect of him. In addition, Homer's description of his physical, intellectual, and moral qualities, summarized in the remark-araxtatos oe aVTJp uno "IAtDV �Age (the most disgraceful man to come to Troy [11 2.216])-suggests that neither beauty not talent has made up forThersites' apparent lack of breeding.33 Without a patronymic, Thersites appears to be a completely isolated figure, unprotected by family, friends, or tradition, and easily dismissed or even brutally attacked, no more significant in the Homeric world than an unnamed servant. After Odysseus savages him both verbally and physically (112.244-69), no one attempts to defend him, but all laugh instead.34 BecauseThersites is not identified by a patronymic, nothing about his abilities or character which he might or might not have inherited from his father can be inferred.This makes him an oddity among the heroes of the Homeric world in which patterns of naming recognized a strong attachment between father and son: Homer often gives a son a name which reflects some quality or ability of his father (or, perhaps, grandfather). In the Iliad, for example, one of two men named lloA{noos-Seeing-much-is the son of a dream-interpreter (5.14849).35 Eurysakes, the son of Ajax, shows in his name his father's most characteristic possession, his big shield (e.g., 1/17.132, 7.219).The enemy identifies Ajax by that shield, as Kebriones remarks to Hektor-eupu yap afJ-q>' rofJ-0t<JtV EX" aaKos (he has his broad shield on his shoulders [1/11.527]). Hektor calls his son Skamandrios, after the local river, one presumes, but theTrojans refer to him as Astyanax (City-protector), in recognition of the protection given Troy by his father--{)tos yap epue,o "1A.tDV "E�Olp (Hektor alone protected !lion [116.403]).36 Daughters, too, can be named with regard for their fathers, as we can perhaps see in the three girls of Agamemnon­ Xpua6gefJ-tS Kat AaootK1] Kat 'Iq>tavo:aaa (Golden-custom, People's­ justice, and Ruling-by-force [/19.145 287]).'7 But it isa rare son whose name originates in a quality of his mother rather than his father: Teukros, the bastard son ofTelamon, may reflect in his =

12

Chapter One

name the Trojan origins of his mother, Hesione," and Ei5oropo<; (Good-gift), one of the leaders of the Myrmidons, may recall all of the gifts given to his mother, TIoAufl�Al1 (Many-flocks), by her successful suitor (/1 1 6 . 1 79-90). This potential for creative play with etymology has led many com­ mentators to describe forms like
61):

Introduction Ml1PtOVl1<;Oe
Meriones killed Phereklos, me son ofWoodworker, grandson of Joiner, who knew how to make many beautiful mings wim his hands. Although Phereklos' name seems to lack any significant etymology of Its own, he IS IdentIfied as me son ofWoodworker-TEK"ovo<;u16v­ and me grandson of]oiner-'ApflOVtOEro. Of course, as Leaf points OUt in reference to this passage, this "whimsy" may be Ours and not Homer's, since it is perfectly possible to read these (and omer similar examples) not as patronymics wim etymologies bur as nouns describing the kind of work which these two men did46

Homer may be indulging in a similat sort of play when he names the young men on Scheria (Od8. 1 1 1-16): ihp"o fl£v 'AKp6vEW<;"E Kat 'OKuaAo<;Kat 'EAa"pEU<; NaU"EU<;"E TIp'llflVEU<;"E Kat 'ArxtaAo<;Kat 'Epe"flEU<; TIoV"£U<;"E TIp'f>PEU<;"E, e6rov 'Ava�l1CftvEW<;"E 'Afl
Chapter One

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royal family-Alkinoos, Arete, and Nausikaa.49 The last is easiest if we understand -Kau for -Ka'''l1 (KUIV1)IlUt).50Thus the royal daughter is "Excelling-in-ships." Alkinoos' name has been etymologized in three different ways: aAKit + voeOl ("Valor-minded"); aAKit + v eOl ("Strong­ at-swimming"); and aAK� + veoftCtt ("He who brings back by his might"). As Hainsworth observes in his remarks on Od6. 12, the first is "colorless," the second "whimsical," and the third ('worth con­ sideration." 5 1 If there is any significance in this name at all, the first possibility might suggest a simple, functional name for a ruler, while the second and third allow us to maintain a connexion between Phaeacian names and qualities. But this exercise in significant names for Phaeacians falters with 'Ap�"'l and, perhaps, with 'AAKlVOO<;. Traditionally derived from apaOllat-"to beseech"-Arete's name has always seemed to fit her function of receiving Odysseus' initial plea, although the verb is never applied to her. 5 2 Depending on how we choose to understand Alkinoos' name, we might reach the same conclusion about him. We might suggest, then, that in naming, we can glimpse poetic personality: the traditional story may have included the names for the king and queen of Scheria, but that the poet could invent names to suit himself or others. The poet is not alone in granting names significance: both Homer and Homeric figures indulge in certain kinds of play with the etymolo­ gies and sounds of names and patronymics. A beggar at the house of Odysseus has become something of a pet to the suitors (Od1 8.5-7):

Apv mo<; 0' avoll' eO'Ke' ,0 yap 8e,0 1tOWtU 1l�'l1P Ex.: 'Yeve'tf1�' �Ipov oe VeOl, KtKA:rl':ncov &1to:v'te�, OUVEK':' a.nayyeAAEoKE Kt(OV, OtE nou n<;avcOyot· '

Arnaios was his name, for his mother had given it to him on his birth. Bur all the young men called him Iros because he went about running errands whenever anyone would ask

Here the joke seems to be that for the suitors Arnaios has taken on the job of messenger which Iris performs often for the gods. After the beggar insults the disguised Odysseus and the two prepare for a duel, Homer remarks that one suitor might be overheard saying to another, ii ,axu 'Ipo<; "Aipo<; E1tIO'1tuO',ov KUKOV el;et (Soon Iros-Un-Iros-

Introduction

15

may have evil of his own doing [18.73]). I n the suitors' folk etymology and joking, there is the sound play on the name Iros prefixed by the alpha-privative, and the contrast between the all-too-human Iros and the divine Iris, as well as the sound play on the name Iros, who is about to meet more than he bargained for in Odysseus and thus become negated. 5 3 This play with names, in the attachment of negative prefixes, may suggest the power of ('un-naming" to Homer and to Homeric figures. If naming has power, serving in particular to help remember a story, then its reverse, un-naming or deformation of a name, may be equally forceful and may remove power from a person or place. T h us Odysseus, after mis-naming himself, deliberately names himself to the Cyclops while Telemakhos and Eumaios are reluctant to name him and even seem consciously to avoid using the name of their absent master.54 We see a similar hesitation in the language of Penelope, who three times declares that she never wants to hear the name !lion spoken again (Od 19.260 597 23.19): =

OtXE't'

=

... 'OO1)O'O'eU<;

. ..Odysseus departed to see Evil-Ilion not-to-be-named. She says this twice to the disguised Odysseus as he talks to her by the fireplace, then a third time to Eurykleia when the nurse wakes her with the news of Odysseus' appearance. We have seen before that Penelope does not want to hear stories about the homecomings from Troy (Od1 .326-27, 337-44), but only late in the story does she coin this compound, KcxKo-"IAlOv, which is not to be named-ouK 6vOIlUO"�v-which is something of a contradiction, as it has just been. 55 Penelope's remark strikes at the heart of the heroic code: if Troy cannot be mentioned, a warrior's accomplishments there cannot be told, so it is as if he has done nothing. A different negative prefix, 01)0'-, is applied by other Homeric figures, perhaps most stridently by Telemalthos to his mother, in his shock over her failure to fall into Odysseus' arms (Od23.97-99):

Ilii"p EIl�, oUO'lll1�£P, a1tl1veu 8wov 'X01)O'u, tlq>S' Oll1:ro ncttpo<;vocrq>l!;eat, ouoe nap' autov 1:i;0lleVl1 llu80ttn v avdpeat ouoe lle'UA.A.q<;;

Chapter One

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Mother, evil-mother, possessing an unyielding spirit, why are you so distant from father, and do not sit by him, converse with him? Telemakhos seems to have forgotten his own trauma at learning of his father's rerum as he berates his mothet in language which stands out both for its hatshness of sentiment and its manipulation of sound (e.g., the assonance of -'1- in 97). Similarly, Hektor twice attacks his brother (11 3.39 1 3.769):56 AUtmapl, el80<; &p""e, yuv mJiav e <;, Ytneponeuta (Evil-Patis, best in looks, woman-crazy, a charmer). Finally, T hetis bemoans het own fate, at having produced a son who will soon die--ro JiOt EY'" 8erM, ro JiOt 8uaapH,"OtaKeta (oh, wtetched me, bearing a noble son ro an evil fate [11 1 8. 54]). Of particular importance in this context is the compound 8uarovuJio<;--evil-namedl accursed, used thtee times in Homer. T he poet comments on the JioLpa 8uarovuJi0<;-accursed fate-of Idomeneus' spear, which means death fot Asios (I1 12.1 16-17) , and Pendope declares to the disguised Odysseus that the dawn which takes her away from the house of Odysseus will be ouarovuJi0<; (Od19.57172). Hekabe applies the adjective generally ro the Greeks when she asks Hektor why he has left the fighting. She wonders, � JiaAa 8n tetpOUal 8uarovuJiot ute<; 'AXmrov / JiapVaJieVOl nept &atu (whethet the evil-named sons of the Achaeans, fighting about the ciry, wear you down [11 6. 255-56] ) . A name can be a token of someone or something's power or effect. . To use a person's name, then, can provoke powerful emotlonal responses and the tepetition of words with the root -OVOJi- (na?,e) throughout both poems emphasizes this.57 Hornet emphasizes the extreme grief which Priam suffers over the death of Hektor by describing the old man wandering dazedly through Troy =

(11 22.414-15):

naVta<; oe AttaVeue KUAtv06Jievo<; KatCt KanpOV, loe, QVOJiaKA,,01'\V QvoJia�CJ)v &vopa EKaatOv '

he appealed to everyone, as he wallowed in ftlth, calling each man by name: We recall Agamemnon's advice to Menelaos during the crisis in Iliad 1 0: he is to honor each leader by calling them by name as he gathers

Introduction

17

them for an impo

rtant meeting. Similarly, Priam's behavior in Iliad 22, identifYing each man by his name, requires each to respond to

him, to recogmze hiS authoriry and to share in his grief Compare excerpts from two stories told in the Odyssey. On Scheria, Odysseus descnbes hiS gnef at seeing six of his men snatched from the ship by Skylla (Od 12.249-50):

. . . Efle 8e