Contents of JHS 121 (2001)
Articles
Eleanor Dickey Kurie, Despota, domine. Greek politeness in the Roman Empire
Andrew Laird Ringing the changes on Gyges: Philosophy and the formation of fiction in Plato's Republic
Rosaria Munson Ananke in Herodotus
Lara O'Sullivan Philochoros, Pollux, and the nomophulakes of Demetrius of Phalerum
Christopher Rowe Killing Socrates: Plato's later thoughts on democracy
Catherine Rubincam The topography of Pylos and Sphakteria and Thucydides' measurements of distance
James Warren Socratic suicide
Stephen White Io's world: Intimations of theodicy in Prometheus Bound
Shorter Contributions
Christopher Jones Time and place in Philostratus' Heroikos
Christopher Pfaff Fifth-century contractors' marks at the Argive Heraion
Deborah Steiner Slander's Bite: Nemean 7.102-5 and the Language of Invective
Annette Teffeteller The Chariot Rite at Onchestos: Homeric Hymn to Apollo 229-398
Abstracts of JHS 121 (2001)
Abstracts of Papers
Eleanor Dickey: Kurie, despota, domine. Greek politeness in the Roman Empire
Why did the Greeks of the Roman period make such extensive use of the vocative kurie, when Greeks of earlier periods had been content with only one vocative meaning ‘master’, despota? This study, based primarily on a comprehensive search of documentary papyri but also making extensive use of literary evidence (particularly that of the Septuagint and New Testament), traces the development of both terms from the classical period to the seventh century ad. It concludes that kurie was created to provide a translation for Latin domine, and that domine, which has often been considered a translation of kurie, had a Roman origin. In addition, both kurie and domine were from their beginnings much less deferential than is traditionally supposed, so that neither term underwent the process of ‘weakening’ which converted English ‘master’ into ‘Mr’. despota, which was originally far more deferential than the other two terms, did undergo some weakening, but not (until a very late period) as much as is usually supposed. These findings in turn imply that Imperial politeness has been somewhat misunderstood and suggest that the Greeks of the first few centuries ad were much less servile in their language than is traditionally assumed.
[1–11]
Andrew Laird: Ringing the changes on Gyges: philosophy and the formation of fiction in Plato’s Republic
Glaucon’s story about the ring of invisibility in Republic 359d-60b is examined in order to assess the wider role of fictional fabrication in Plato’s philosophical argument. The first part of the article (I) looks at the close connections this tale has to the account of Gyges in Herodotus (1.8-12). It is argued that Plato exhibits a specific dependence on Herodotus, which suggests Glaucon’s story might be an original invention: the assumption that there must be a lost ‘original’ to inspire Plato’s story of the ring has never accommodated the possibility of Plato drawing, perhaps quite directly, from Herodotus. The next section (II) considers the function of that fable within the larger philosophical and aesthetic structure of the Republic. Appreciation of the entire dialogue as an exercise in fiction, as well as philosophy, helps to reveal the ways in which philosophical argument and fictional invention are closely bound up in the formation of Glaucon’s fabulous anecdote. Finally (III), a reading of Cicero’s treatment of the story in De Officiis confirms the degree to which philosophical reasoning and fiction can be quite generally interdependent. Although the arguments in Sections II and III are consistent with the opening contention that the ring story was invented by Plato, they do not presuppose it.
[12–29]
Rosaria Vignolo Munson: Ananke in Herodotus
This paper examines Herodotus’ use of words of the ananke family in order to determine which external or internal constraints the historian represents as affecting the causality of events. M. Ostwald’s Anangke in Thucydides (1988) provides a foundation for examining the more restricted application of these terms in Herodotus (85 occurrences vs. 161 in Thucydides). In Herodotus, divine necessity (absent in Thucydides) refers to the predictable results of human wrongdoings more often than to a force constraining human choices. This represents an especially ambiguous Herodotean category, however, and is expressed by a wider range of terms than those with ananke -stems. The analysis of natural ananke yields more clear-cut results. (1) In Herodotus (and not in Thucydides) ananke often qualifies an aggressive compulsion applied by a personal agent. (2) Victims of this despotic ananke are partially excused, but those who resist it earn Herodotus’ praise. (3) Most importantly, Herodotus (unlike Thucydides) never in turn applies ananke words to circumstances that motivate imperialistic actions, especially starting a war. (4) Whereas in Thucydides agents are ‘compelled’ to act also by fear and other internal impulses, the only psychological factor to which Herodotus applies ananke words (and this time mostly in a positive sense) is moral obligation.
Herodotus’ concept of ananke is moralistic, and consistent with his unwillingness to justify imperialism, his practice of assigning responsibility, and his high regard for nomos, on the one hand, and freedom on the other. The narrator’s involvement in these principles is reflected in Herodotus’ use of ananke terms in self-referential statements of the type ‘I am compelled/not compelled to say x.’ These statements represent the narrator as the opposite of an imperial subject and analogous to the most admirable of his characters on the receiving end of compulsion. He is a free agent, who disregards political pressure and is exclusively compelled by the rules that apply to him as researcher and truthful recorder.
[30–50]
Lara O'Sullivan: Philochorus, Pollux, and the nomophulakes of Demetrius of Phalerum
Abstract: A board of ‘law-guardians’, or nomophulakes, has long been associated with the Athenian regime of Demetrius of Phalerum (317-307 bc). The duties of Demetrius’ officials have been surmised from an entry on nomophulakes in the Atthis of Philochorus (FGrHist 328 F64), which lists their central functions as the supervision of ma-gistrates and the prevention of illegal resolutions by the assembly and council. This understanding of the fourth-century nomophulakes stands in contradiction to the explicit testimony of Pollux (8.102), who asserts that Demetrius changed the name of the hendeka, the eleven Athenian gaolers, to nomophulakes. A case is made here for the acceptance of Pollux, a case based on textual grounds and on comparison with other reforms associated with Demetrius. It is further argued that Philochorus’ description applies – as the sole excerpter of the Atthis to give a temporal context, the Lexicon Cantabrigiense, indeed states – to nomophulakes created in the aftermath of Areopagite reform in the mid-fifth century, and that Demetrius’ officials were linked to these early nomophulakes through their inheritance of different aspects of nomophulakia associated with the early Areopagus.
[51–62]
Christopher Rowe: Killing Socrates: Plato’s later thoughts on democracy
The paper has two main aims, one larger and one slightly narrower. The larger aim is to undermine further a tendency that has dogged the interpretation of Platonic political philosophy in modern times, despite some dissenting voices: the tendency to begin from the assumption that Plato’s thinking changed and developed over time, as if we already had privileged access to his biography. The slightly narrower aim is to reply to two charges of intellectual parricide made against Plato. The first is explicit and well known: that he recommended political structures of a sort that would exclude the free-ranging philosophical inquiry sponsored by Socrates. The second is implicit in the standard reading of the Politicus, and says that Plato actually came to approve (however reluctantly) of Athens’ execution of his teacher. I argue that the relevant passage (Plt. 297C - 302B) has been misunderstood, and that it is in fact fully consistent with the blanket criticism we find in the Republic of all existing forms of constitution. The Athenian democracy still got it wrong, both in general, and in making the particular decision to kill off old Socrates. I also argue that so far from proposing to abolish Socratic inquiry, Plato’s political works as a whole (Republic, Politicus and Laws included) are actually designed to show the need for it.
[63–76]
Catherine Rubincam: The topography of Pylos and Sphakteria and Thucydides’ measurements of distance
This article has two purposes. First, it proposes a more satisfactory solution to an old problem: the apparently serious inaccuracy of Thucydides’ measurements for the length of Sphakteria island and the width of the channels dividing it from the mainland. Second, it offers some more general observations on Thucydides’ measures of distance and the light they can shed on an important aspect of his historiographic method.
The solution proposed by R. Bauslaugh (‘The text of Thucydides IV 8.6 and the south channel at Pylos’, JHS 99 (1979) 1-6) to the problem of measurements is rejected. Bauslaugh had emended two of the three figures on the ground that they were so seriously inaccurate as to require assumption of manuscript corruption. It is here contended that his argument is misconceived, and the emendations unnecessary. The counter-argument is based on a close study of Thucydides’ idiom and practice in giving measurements of distance, particularly his use of qualifying expressions with numbers of this kind.
The second half of the article uses data compiled in an ongoing study of the use of numbers by Greek historians to make some comparisons between Thucydides’ practice and that of several other historians in giving measurements of distance. It is suggested that careful attention to the nuances of Thucydides’ practice, especially his use of different qualifying expressions with these numbers, may enable one to draw some interesting inferences about his sources of information and how he used them
[77–90]
James Warren: Socratic suicide
When is it rational to commit suicide? More specifically, when is it rational for a Platonist to commit suicide, and more worryingly, is it ever not rational for a Platonist to commit suicide? If the Phaedo wants us to learn that the soul is immortal, and that philosophy is a preparation for a state better than incarnation, then why does it begin with a discussion defending the prohibition of suicide? In the course of that discussion, Socrates offers (but does not necessarily endorse) two arguments for the prohibition of self-killing, at least in most circumstances, which have exerted a long and powerful influence over subsequent discussion of the topic, particularly in theist contexts. In the context of the Phaedo itself, however, this introductory conversation plays a crucial role in setting the agenda for the remainder of the dialogue and offering an initial discussion of the major concerns of the argument as a whole. In particular, the discussion of the nature of suicide is intimately bound up with Socrates’ conception of true philosophy as a ‘preparation for death’, the relationship between soul and body, and the immortality of the soul. My intention is to provide a reading of that passage (61e-69e) which asks whether the Phaedo can offer a philosophically satisfying distinction between suicide and philosophy and how it relates to other ancient philosophical attitudes to self-killing. I argue that Socrates does not think that being dead is always preferable to being alive, and that the religious views expressed in the passage are consistent with his general stance on the benevolence of the gods.
[91–106]
Stephen White: Io’s world: intimations of theodicy in Prometheus Bound
The conflict between Prometheus and Zeus has long dominated critical discussion of the play and diverted attention from the only mortal to appear onstage. Prometheus is widely applauded as humanity’s saviour and Zeus condemned as an oppressive tyrant, but the fate of the maiden Io is largely discounted. Her encounter with Prometheus, however, is the longest and most complex episode in the play, and it provides a very different perspective on events. The elaborate forecast of her journeys delivered by Prometheus deploys the ‘discourse of barbarism’ to picture a primitive world ravaged by savage violence and hostile monsters. The lands through which Io is to travel are devoid of the civil and religious institutions of the classical Greek polis and oikos. Yet the episode also foretells how this barbaric world will evolve under the aegis of Zeus. Argive Io, as ‘wife’ of Zeus, will found a ‘new family’ of mortals who will introduce and champion the norms of Greek civic culture in his and her name alike. Prophecy, allusion and foreshadowing thus reveal the Zeus of this play to be not the harsh and destructive despot imagined by most today, but the benevolent source and ultimate arbiter of justice for both gods and humanity.
[107–40]
Christopher Jones: Time and place in Philostratus’ Heroikos
This paper discusses the background in reality of the Heroikos (Dialogue concerning Heroes), which is ascribed to Philostratus of Athens, and is mainly devoted to the hero Protesilaos. After a summary of the work, the paper considers it from four aspects. The time of writing falls after 217 (the second victory at Olympia of the athlete Helix of Phoenicia); there may be a reference to events in Thessaly under the emperor Alexander Severus (222-235). If the author is the well-known Philostratus, then such a date also implies a dramatic date in the author’s own time. This is corroborated by two series of references which appear to run from the comparatively recent past to the present. One of these concerns bones of heroes, while the other concerns athletes to whom the hero Protesilaos had given advice in the form of oracles. The geographical setting of the dialogue is Elaious in the Thracian Chersonese. The evidence for the cult of Protesilaos on the territory of Elaious comes from literature, notably Herodotus, from coins of the time of Commodus, and from modern observations, notably a vivid account given by Heinrich Schliemann. While Philostratus’ description of the cult-place at Elaious appears very accurate, his account of the Island of Achilles in the Pontus is less so. Finally, the paper considers the Heroikos in the context of contemporary belief about heroes and their powers. Another work probably by the same author, the Life of Apollonius of Tyana, is adduced to assess the credulity of readers in Philostratus’ time and later. Documents and literature of the imperial period show that even dead contemporaries could be regarded as heroes, who were still influential even from beyond the grave. The references to Protesilaos in literature (Pausanias, Lucian) strongly suggest that he was regarded as issuing oracles in the form of dreams, and this too accords with beliefs about heroes both in the Hellenistic period and in the Roman.
[141–49]
Christopher Pfaff: Fifth-century contractors’ marks at the Argive Heraion
This article presents three sing1e-word inscriptions carved on blocks of the large retaining wall that supported the Classical temple of Hera at the Argive Heraion. Two of the inscriptions record the name Kleomachos, while the third presumably records the first three letters of a name beginning Epi... The inscriptions, which include local Argive letter forms characteristic of the mid-fifth century, appear on ordinary wall blocks in places where they could not have been read when the terrace was completed. From the evidence of similar inscriptions at Delphi, it is argued that the inscriptions at the Argive Heraion should be identified as the marks of local contractors responsible for supplying building material to the site at a time when the sanctuary was entering a major phase of expansion.
[150–53]
Deborah Steiner: Slander’s bite: Nemean 7.102-5 and the language of invective
Discussion of the closing lines of Pindar’s seventh Nemean has concentrated almost exclusively on the lines’ relevance to the larger question that hangs over the poem: does the ode serve as an apologia for the poet’s uncomplimentary treatment of Neoptolemus in an earlier Paean, and is Pindar here most plainly gainsaying the vilification in which he supposedly previously engaged. The reading that I offer suggests that a very different concern frames the conclusion to the work. Rather than seeking to exculpate himself, the poet announces instead that in the song that the audience has just heard, the composer has adhered to two prime virtues that the encomiastic genre should embrace: variatio and an ability to counter the language of blame. By reorienting the debate in this way, I aim to elucidate the striking metaphors and other rhetorical devices that fill the final lines, and most particularly to make sense of the canine imagery that seems so recurrent a motif. As my reading seeks to show, the dog is chosen as master trope both for his relation to the practice of invective and for his relevance to that stale act of repetition that the poet here rejects. By giving his audience a sample of the mode of speech that the calumnist practises, and that the praise poet may appropriate when combating the opposite genre, Pindar makes the merits of his own poetry shine the brighter, and invites the cognoscenti to appreciate his sophia. More broadly, the encomiastic singer’s brief deployment of the weapons of the abuse poet allows us to understand something of the overlapping and symbiotic relations between the different genres in archaic Greek poetry.
[154–58]
Annette Teffeteller: The chariot rite at Onchestos: Homeric Hymn to Apollo 229-38
The Onchestos passage in the Homeric Hymn to Apollo (229-38) has been discussed extensively, most usefully by A. Schachter (BICS 23 (1976)102-14) and G. Roux (REG 77 (1964) 1-22). Further consideration of the disputed verbal forms in lines 235 and 236 and the plurals of 233-6 suggests that the plurals do indeed indicate a two-horse chariot team but that the presence of a team is not incompatible with the test of a single colt, and that if a chariot is wrecked by the unguided horses, it is righted and left in situ (with the horses removed) while prayers of supplication are made to Poseidon. The events referred to are interpreted as elements of a religious ritual with explicit military implications, dating from the Mycenaean period. It is, however, noted that a Babylonian ritual parallel might suggest a Near Eastern (and possibly non-military) origin.
[159–66]