Inscribing Sorrow: Fourth-Century Attic Funerary Epigrams (Trends in Classics)

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Inscribing Sorrow: Fourth-Century Attic Funerary Epigrams

Christos C. Tsagalis

Walter de Gruyter

Christos C. Tsagalis Inscribing Sorrow: Fourth-Century Attic Funerary Epigrams

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Trends in Classics Supplementary Volumes Edited by Franco Montanari and Antonios Rengakos Scientific Committee Alberto Bernabe´ · Margarethe Billerbeck · Claude Calame Philip R. Hardie · Stephen J. Harrison · Stephen Hinds Richard Hunter · Christina Kraus · Giuseppe Mastromarco Gregory Nagy · Theodore D. Papanghelis · Giusto Picone Kurt Raaflaub · Bernhard Zimmermann

Volume 1

Walter de Gruyter · Berlin · New York

Inscribing Sorrow: Fourth-Century Attic Funerary Epigrams by

Christos C. Tsagalis

Walter de Gruyter · Berlin · New York

앝 Printed on acid-free paper which falls within the guidelines of the ANSI 앪 to ensure permanence and durability.

ISBN 978-3-11-020132-1 Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the Library of Congress. Bibliographic information published by the Deutsche Nationalbibliothek The Deutsche Nationalbibliothek lists this publication in the Deutsche Nationalbibliografie; detailed bibliographic data are available in the Internet at http://dnb.d-nb.de.

쑔 Copyright 2008 by Walter de Gruyter GmbH & Co. KG, D-10785 Berlin All rights reserved, including those of translation into foreign languages. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopy, recording or any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher. Printed in Germany Cover Design: Christopher Schneider, Berlin Printing and binding: Hubert & Co. GmbH & Co. KG, Göttingen

For Anna

Preface One of the most brilliant achievements of Hellenistic poetry is no doubt the emergence of the literary epigram. During the last years, important new discoveries (like the ‘New Posidippus’) and several groundbreaking publications have deepened our knowledge of Hellenistic epigrammatic collections and rekindled interest in one of the most fascinating genres of Greek poetry. On the other hand, inscribed epigram of the archaic and classical periods has not yet attracted from classical scholars the attention it deserves. While epigraphists have made significant progress in collecting, publishing and epigraphically studying all the relevant material, Hellenists have been, in general, rather reluctant to undertake long-scale research on inscribed epigram. This lack of interest has been generated by the nature of the material on which epigrams are preserved (which requires a fair amount of archaeological knowledge), the view that only in the Hellenistic period epigrams acquire features pertaining to ‘real’ poetry, and also that literariness and personal authorship, which are basically linked to epigrams belonging to the Hellenistic and Imperial periods, make non-inscribed epigrams much more interesting to study from a literary point of view. It is indeed a very positive sign that during the last years certain scholars have realised the need to link the history and development of inscribed epigram to that of its famous Hellenistic successor. To mention a recent example of this tendency, the editors (P. Bing and J. S. Bruss) of the Brill’s Companion to Hellenistic Epigram have devoted a fair number of chapters (more than half of the Companion’s first part) to inscribed epigram. Individual chapters studying the inscribed antecedents of Hellenistic epigram, the inscribed epigram in pre-Hellenistic literary sources, the Sylloge Simonidea, and the mutual influence between inscribed and literary epigram testify to the growing interest for exploring the inscriptional precursors of literary epigram as models for the blooming of this genre in the Hellenistic and Imperial periods. Fourth-century inscribed Attic epitaphs are centered on the private life of Athenian men and women, the impact of whose loss we can still hear as a distinct echo of a distant past. At the same time, the

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sheer size (162), geographical concentration (Attica), and chronological limitation (4th century BCE) of this corpus of grave epigrams allows for general observations concerning the transition from archaic and fifth-century classical epigram into the literary epigram of the Hellenistic period. In the course of my research I have incurred a fair number of professional and personal debts. In fact, I was fortunate enough to have benefited from the scientific expertise, thoughtful advice and generous feedback of a number of scholars. Yannis Tzifopoulos and Joseph Day have read an early draft of chapter one and have immensely helped me with their incisive criticism. Phil Mitsis has diligently read the entire manuscript and made considerable improvements on my English. David Sider and Doris Meyer have both brought to my attention important secondary literature. Sophia Aneziri has also discussed with me in detail CEG 594. Ewen Bowie has kindly shown me his own forthcoming contribution on narrative in archaic and classical inscribed epigram. I am profoundly indebted to Marco Fantuzzi who read the entire manuscript, made acute observations and with his brilliant insights and balanced criticism saved me from some misleading comments and arguments. He also provided me with fascinating forthcoming work of his, of which the one on variation in inscriptional epigram was of special importance for my research. Angelos Matthaiou was the one who initially suggested this topic to me, arguing strongly and convincingly about the need for classical scholars to explore the area of pre-Hellenistic inscribed epigrams. Moreover, he was the one who helped a classicist like me familiarize himself with Greek Epigraphy. I would also like to express my deep gratitude to Franco Montanari and Antonios Rengakos for accepting my work in their new series Trends in Classics. Last but not least, I would like to thank a number of institutions and libraries that have facilitated and stimulated my research. The American School of Classical Studies at Athens unfailingly proved a safe heaven for my research. Its fine facilities provided a stimulating atmosphere, and its congenial staff, especially Ben Mills and Maria Tourna, were always eager to help in matters bibliographical and other. This important institution with its unique collection of literary, epigraphical, and archaeological material is one of the most ideal places for the undertaking of advanced research in almost any subfield concerning Greek antiquity. I am also deeply indebted to the Center for Hellenic Studies and its Director Greg Nagy for offering me a Summer Fellowship (2002). Despite my brief stay at the Center, I was able to gather some important material for my research without un-

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due difficulty. Further thanks are due to the Head Librarian of the Classics Library of the University of Athens Mrs Argyro Frantzi, who provided assistance in various forms and saved me some time by unstintingly offering her expertise in matters pertaining to digital collections. Last but not least, I would like to acknoweldge the assistance offered to me by the staff of the National Research Foundation (E.I.E) which through its efficient interlibrary loan system gave me the opportunity to access certain articles published in journals that I could not find in Greece and that otherwise I would not have been able to consult. This Book is dedicated to my wife Anna, who has helped me in ways that can hardly be described or acknowledged. She unfailingly stood by me, patiently dealing with all my sentimental upheavals during the writing of this manuscript and the preparation of the cameraready copy. She is, therefore, true to the saying χάριν λαβὼν χάριτας ἀντιδίδωμι. Christos C. Tsagalis Athens, August 2007

Contents Quotations and Transliteration ................................................................. 1 Introduction ................................................................................................ 3 Chapter 1: The Use of Gnomic Expressions The Greek Concept of γνῶμαι ..................................................................................... 10 Modern Approaches ....................................................................................................... 16 Corpus of γνῶμαι ............................................................................................................ 17 A Gnomic Grammar........................................................................................................ 19 Quantificatory Terminology.................................................................................. 19 Anaphoric ‘Generalizing’ Markers (ὅστις, οὗ) and Deixis.............................. 21 Evaluative Terminology ......................................................................................... 26 Tenses.......................................................................................................................... 28 Particles ...................................................................................................................... 31 Style ............................................................................................................................. 32 Contextualizing the γνώμη .......................................................................................... 37 The Community of Death ....................................................................................... 38 Honoring the Deceased in the Underworld....................................................... 39 Honoring the Dead................................................................................................... 40 Chains with Nested Maxims .................................................................................. 41 Orational Maxims and the Vocality of the Performance..................................... 44 Expanded Maxims........................................................................................................... 48 Opposition......................................................................................................................... 49 Mnemonic Devices.......................................................................................................... 50 Meter.................................................................................................................................. 51

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Chapter 2: Poetic Imagery The Light of Life .............................................................................................................. 63 Φῶς/Φάος................................................................................................................... 65 Individual φῶς/φάος Expressions ....................................................................... 67 Aὐγή/-αί ..................................................................................................................... 77 (a) Λίπον ἡλίου αὐγάς ............................................................................................. 77 (b) Ἀελίου εἴδομεν αὐγήν (CEG 520) .................................................................... 81 The Chamber(s) of Persephone ................................................................................... 86

Chapter 3: Public Display, Private Focus: Redefining Social Virtues Towards a Τypology of ἀρετή and σωφροσύνη..................................................... 135 (a) μετέχειν or μέρος ἔχων/ἔχουσα ἀρετῆς and/or σωφροσύνης + Quantitative Terms ..................................................... 137 (b) ἀσκεῖν ἀρετήν/σωφροσύνην ........................................................................ 142 (c) αὐξάνειν ἀρετήν/σωφροσύνην .................................................................... 149 (d) μνημεῖον ἀρετῆς/σωφροσύνης .................................................................... 150 (e) κλέος + σωφροσύνη ......................................................................................... 158 Praising the Deceased .................................................................................................. 160 Εὐλογία ..................................................................................................................... 161 Ἔπαινος .................................................................................................................... 169 (a) Professional ἔπαινος........................................................................................ 171 (b) Family-Oriented ἔπαινος................................................................................ 175 (c) Gender-Based ἔπαινος..................................................................................... 178 Σπάνις-epitaphs ...................................................................................................... 180 The ‘Thick and Thin’ Theory: Family, Age, Profession ....................................... 183 Family........................................................................................................................ 183 Age.............................................................................................................................. 198 Youth ......................................................................................................................... 200

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Old Age/Longevity ................................................................................................. 204 Profession................................................................................................................. 208 Men ............................................................................................................................ 209 Women ...................................................................................................................... 210

Chapter 4: Narrative Development and Poetic Technique The Epitaph as Inscription ......................................................................................... 216 (a) Deictic Topography ......................................................................................... 217 (b) The Reader as Passer-By ................................................................................ 219 The Epitaph as Narrative ............................................................................................ 224 (a) Extended Epigrams .......................................................................................... 224 (a1) Parataxis + Relative Expansion................................................................... 225 (a2) Relative Pronouns + μέν-δέ Expansion..................................................... 226 (a3) Relative Pronouns + δέ Expansion ............................................................. 227 (a4) Chains of Relative Expansions .................................................................... 228 (a5) The ὅς ... ποτε Relative Device .................................................................... 230 (b) Subordinate Clauses ........................................................................................ 233 (c) Parataxis ............................................................................................................. 237 (d) Asyndeton .......................................................................................................... 241 (e) Names.................................................................................................................. 243 (f) The Interplay between Speaker and Addressee ....................................... 252 (f1) Presentation of the Deceased or the Monument (CEG 529) ................. 253 (f2) Report of the Death-Situation (CEG 554)................................................... 254 (f3) The ‘I-Style’ (CEG 473) .................................................................................... 254 (f3.1) First-Person Mourner................................................................................. 255 (f4) Address Forms (CEG 604)............................................................................... 256 (f5) Dialogue............................................................................................................. 257 (f5.1) Question-Answer Device ........................................................................... 258 (f5.2) Grave-Situated Conversation ................................................................... 259

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The Poetic Grammar of the Epitaph ........................................................................ 261 (a) Diction................................................................................................................. 261 (a1) Epic Vocabulary.............................................................................................. 262 (a2) Tragic Vocabulary.......................................................................................... 268 (a3) Varia .................................................................................................................. 273 (a4) Compound Epithets ....................................................................................... 276 (a5) Influence of the Language of Decrees and Dedicatory Inscriptions ............................................................................... 278 (b) Style ..................................................................................................................... 281 (b1) Wordplay and Soundplay ............................................................................ 281 (b2) Priamel ............................................................................................................. 284 (c) Meter ................................................................................................................... 285 (c1) Outer Metric .................................................................................................... 286 (c2) Inner Metric .................................................................................................... 291 (c3) Violations ......................................................................................................... 292 (c4) Unmetrical Verses ......................................................................................... 297 (c4.1) Unmetrical Hexameters and Pentameters........................................... 297 (c4.2) Combined Forms ......................................................................................... 300 (c5) Coterminacy and Enjambment................................................................... 302

Conclusion ................................................................................................309 Table 1 .....................................................................................................321 Bibliography.............................................................................................323 General Index...........................................................................................343 Index of Principal Greek Words ..............................................................347 Index Locorum .........................................................................................349

Quotations and Transliteration To avoid repetition, I have employed a variety of synonymous terms to refer to the corpus of epigrams under discussion: inscribed grave epigrams, sepulchral epigrams, funerary epigrams. When I use the term epitaph, I am referring to a metrical inscription. Regarding the transliteration of Greek personal and place names, I have decided to follow a twofold system instead of imposing a standard form: I have employed the Anglisized form for individuals widely known from classical literature (Corinth, Empedocles, Herodotus), whereas in the case of unknown private citizens appearing in epitaphs I have opted for their transliterated Hellenicized forms (e.g. Kallimachos, not Callimachus) in order to avoid confusion. When citing a work by an orator, the number in parenthesis following the title indicates the standard numbering of the speech according to OCD practice. With respect to the abbreviations of names of ancient authors and works I have opted for their latinized form. Aiming at comprehensiveness, I have given both forms in the Index Locorum. So Soph. Trach. stands for Sophocles’ Women of Trachis, and Pl. Leg. for Plato’s Laws. Every time an edition of inscriptions is cited, the numbering does not refer to pages but to the particular inscription quoted. E.g. Kaibel (1878) 81 refers to epigram 81 in Kaibel’s 1878 edition. When reference to a particular inscribed epigram is made, the first part of the numbering designates the number of the inscription in the collection cited, whereas the second part of the number indicates a particular line, not verse (unless stated otherwise). For example, CEG 546.3 refers to the third line of a two-verse epitaph preceded by an extra metrum line. References to inscribed epigrams are made according to CEG. When an epigram is quoted in full or thoroughly discussed, the equivalent IG number is also given. In the case of epigrams published after IG II2, I have decided to follow the same practice and offer the equivalent number of ΣΕΜΑ (Συμπλήρωμα τῶν ἐπιτυμβίων μνημείων τῆς Ἀττικῆς) only when an epigram or part of it is quoted. In the Index Locorum I have grouped under the number of an inscription all references to individual lines.

Introduction The epigram constitutes one of the most persistent and long lasting genres of ancient Greek literature.1 Initially, the term ἐπίγραμμα had exactly the same meaning with the word ἐπιγραφή (inscription), which denoted writing by inscribing on material whose primary use was rather different. While parchment and papyrus were employed as writing material per se, stone, wood, pots and vases served different purposes and only secondarily were they employed for writing. Conversely, the fact that they had been used from a very early date and that they were durable resulted in their proliferation as writing material. Metrical inscriptions are attested as early as the 7th century BCE. Archaic grave epigrams have a rather severe and terse style, often containing epic overtones. The pitch is impersonal or distant, offering mainly the name, city, and elementary data concerning the deceased’s family, and sometimes his or her age. The versifier remains anonymous, the stylistic means conform to the strictest typology, and the size is as laconic as possible. In the words of Fantuzzi, “the history of the archaic and early classical inscribed epigram is the history of a ‘lesser literature’, more subordinated to, than operating in parallel with, orally transmitted verse. Such poems are satisfied with anonymity.” 2 In the early classical period (5th century BCE), metrical inscriptions grow rapidly in numbers. With respect to sepulchral epigrams, there is a considerable increase of the so-called πολυάνδρια (metrical inscriptions on public monuments commemorating the war dead) that became especially prominent in the wake of the Persian Wars. In contrast to its archaic predecessor, classical epigram begins to be more elaborate: its style is not so terse, special care is given to the placement of words in the verse, and last but not least epitaphs are imbued with a didactic-idealistic tone. The highlighting of pathos, the _____________ 1 2

See Reitzenstein, RE s.v. ‘Epigramm’. Fantuzzi (2002) 394 = (2004) 288.

4

Introduction

use of dialogue, and the stylistic embellishment bear witness to the influence of tragic poetry, oratory, and sophistic ideas and diction. In the late classical period (4th century BCE), the πολυάνδρια decrease (our statistics are representative of Athenian practice) considerably, whereas private funerary epigrams grow rapidly. This phenomenon is so profound that can only be explained by the dramatic changes caused by the Peloponnesian war and the defeat of Athens, the deep crisis of the city-state as a political entity, and the gradual transition to a world radically different from that of the fifth century, a world more interested in the private aspects of life. This shift towards the private stele was accompanied by significant changes regarding its style and content. Seven years ago, Angelos Matthaiou tried to convince a young classicist who shared with him only a tiny part of his passion for epigraphy that he should undertake a long scale research on grave epigrams of fourth-century Athens. Matthaiou made convincingly his case by arguing that the sheer number of inscribed epitaphs from Attica made this ‘epigrammatic corpus’ an ideal place to further investigate the emergence of literary features which we later on encounter in much greater frequence and sophistication in the Hellenistic period. Matthaiou’s persuasive arguments were soon turned into scientific advice and guidance of the sort all classicists need when trying to step on the untrodden paths of epigraphical texts. As soon as I began collecting my material, I realized that whereas Hansen’s Carmina Epigraphica Graeca had practically made inscribed epigrams readily accessible to classical scholars by detaching them from the overwhelming and rather imposing presence of the diverse inscriptional material collected in IG, Hellenists were still hesitant to systematically pursue a more comprehensive analysis of inscribed epigrams. It is a great pleasure to see that during these very last years there are clear signs that scholars have started to zoom their scientific lens on inscribed epigrams by endorsing a rather holistic approach that combines epigraphical knowledge with performanceanalysis. Joseph Day has led the way by studying inscribed epigrams not as mere epigraphical texts but as ‘rituals on stone’.3 Marco Fantuzzi has devoted a significant part of his very influential chapter regarding Hellenistic epigram in Muse e Modelli on inscribed epigram offering fascinating new insights.4 Doris Meyer has written an entire mono_____________ 3 4

See Day (1989), (1994), (2000), (2007). Fantuzzi (2002) 389-481 = (2004) 283-349.

Introduction

5

graph on the reception of inscribed epigram by Callimachus. Jon Steffen Bruss has studied the inheritances of Hellenistic epigram from the sepulchral sub-genre of inscribed epigram. At least the two contributions by Ewen Bowie and Marco Fantuzzi in the forthcoming volume on Archaic and Classical Greek Epigram will exercise a considerable influence regarding the ways we approach inscribed epigrams. While the former offers a pathbreaking approach to the emergence of narrative in archaic and classical epigram, the latter studies variation in ‘inter-inscriptional’ epigrams, i.e. in epigrams inscribed sequentially on the same stone.5 The realization that fourth-century Attic epitaphs are the sounding-board6 for crucial social concerns of the city-state during a transitional period and that they constitute ‘engines of family honor’7 led me to attempt a reconstruction of some of the original ancient contexts of inscribed epigrams. Although this method of analysis has considerable advantages, it should be followed blithely but not blindely. Inscriptions, even metrical ones, are by definition heavily historicised, the more so since they are a form of ancient documentation. The necessary, and rather significant, caveat is in this case the extent to which the dictional typology encountered in inscribed epigrams does not only represent current practice that is historically determined but also modes of communication between the anonymous versifiers and the future passers-by. Viewed from this vantage point, the public display of inscribed epitaphs becomes an important factor for the interpretation of certain formulaic characteristics of funerary epigrams. The thematical (epitaphs), chronological (4th century) and geographical (Attic) parameters of our corpus constitute a rather significant (162 metrical inscriptions) epigrammatic landscape that allows for drawing wide range conclusions for the evolution of the genre of epigram. In this light, my research will be focused on several trends of fourth-century Attic grave epigrams that seem to symbolize their autonomy as a corpus. In chapter one, I will explore the form and function of maxims within the context of a bipolar opposition between the public display of the monument and the private commemoration of the deceased. _____________ 5

6 7

I am indebted to both authors who were kind enough to let me see their unpublished contributions to the forthcoming volume Archaic and Classical Greek Epigram, Cambridge (2008), which has not appeared in press even as I am writing these lines. See Wilson (2007) 1, who employs the same expression for Attic theater. I owe the expression ‘engines of honor’ to Wilson (2007) 5. The idea belongs to Chaniotis (1997) 219-259.

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Introduction

One of the most noteworthy features of these maxims is that they are expressed by conditional clauses whose apodosis refers to a particular departed. Apart from discussing the origins and potential literary influence regarding the use of the aforementioned type of wisdom expressions, I will examine gnomic statements as a constituent part of the staging of epitaphs by future readers. In chapter two, the emphasis will be on a detailed examination of regularly employed imagery pertaining to the themes featured by inscribed grave epigrams, i.e. leaving the light of the sun and going to the chambers of Persephone. The former is a standard metaphor for the end of one’s life, but its dictional variants and sophisticated use in funerary epigrams show that the anonymous versifiers deftly employ it in order to produce literary effects. The latter expression has not only practically replaced any reference to Hades but has also, and more importantly, evolved into a sophisticated imagery reflecting religious beliefs and cultural values circulating in fourth-century Athens. In chapter three, I will study the social matrix within which fourth-century epitaphs function. Funerary epigrams from fourthcentury Attica (like sepulchral inscriptions at large) often “convey to the reader a poignant sense of loss of a family member” but “the desire to evoke memories of the dead [are] heavily concentrated within the nuclear family” and “the stress in the epitaphs is not the representation of the deceased as a member of an agnatic lineage.” 8 On the one hand the focus will be on determining and exploring a typology of abstract terms and expressions that reflect current social concerns (such as ἀρετή and σωφροσύνη), and on the other on studying the family, age and profession, which are regularly employed with regard to the deceased. Chapter four is a detailed study of the narrative techniques, style, literary influence, and metrical structure of fourth-century Attic grave epigrams. In particular, epitaphs will be studied as inscriptions, i.e. in respect of their constant aim to indicate the fact that they are inscribed, and as narrative, i.e. regarding their textual characteristics and the devices they employ in order to expand the absolutely necessary information that they should convey. Last but not least, I will explore their poetic grammar regarding both the origins of their literary loans and non-literary influence of current inscriptional material _____________ 8

Bodel (2001) 98-99. Bodel’s statements are based on Humphreys’ persuasive arguments (1980) that have refuted Fustel de Coulanges’ (1980 [=1864]) theory of agnatic lineage in both Greece and Rome.

Introduction

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(such as decrees and dedicatory inscriptions) and their inner and outer metric. In the end of the 4th century BCE inscriptional epigrams have made most of all the necessary steps towards breaking free from the monuments they are inscribed on and acquiring their poetic autonomy. During the period framed by Pericles’ law (451/450 BCE) of δοκιμασία, according to which all future Athenian citizens had to show the place where both their parents were buried, and the legislation of Demetrius of Phaleron (317 BCE), who prohibited the erection of luxurious funerary stelae and monuments by private citizens, Athens witnessed an impressive growth of metrical grave epigrams. The present monograph is an attempt to offer a comprehensive treatment of a statistically significant body of material bridging the gap between its archaic and early classical antecedents and the renowned literary epigram of the Hellenistic period.

Chapter 1 The Use of Gnomic Expressions Wisdom literature encompasses a wide variety of manifestations of popular wisdom including παροιμίαι (proverbs), αἶνοι (sayings), ἀφορισμοί (pithy statements, aphorisms, fixed rules), ἀποφθέγματα (retorts, apothegms),1 χρεῖαι (pregnant sentences frequently accompanied by anecdotes),2 ὑποθῆκαι (instructions), παραγγέλματα (precepts) and γνῶμαι (maxims).3 The study of γνῶμαι in epigrammatic poetry, however, has not yet received the attention it deserves in classical scholarship. Despite the fact that the 19th and early 20th centuries had experienced an explosion of philological studies on wisdom literature (most of them published in Germany),4 there was and still is no study devoted to the examination of γνῶμαι in Greek epigrams.5 On the other hand, a significant change of scope has been made in the late 20th century as cultural anthropology, ethno- and sociolinguistics have shaped our understanding of the function and role of wisdom literature in Greek antiquity. Thus, the emphasis is now not on taxonomy and classification but on performance and context, not on parallels but on cultural variants.

_____________ 1

See Gemoll (1924); Stenger (2006) 208-211. See Fauser (1987) 414-425, (1994) 190-197; Stenger (2006) 212-215. 3 The relevant lemmata of the Neue Pauly, especially the one on γνώμη [Gärtner (1998) 1108-1116], offer detailed and up-to-date information about wisdom expressions. See also Lardinois (1995) 13-19; Sánchez-Elvira and Romero (1999) 339-356. 4 Lingenberg (1872); Bauck (1880); Crusius (1883); Baar (1887); Hotop (1888); Martin (1889); Koch (1887-1892); Grünwald (1893); Rein (1894); Wunderer (1898); Geisler (1908); Tschajkanowitsch (1908); Keim (1909); Crusius (1910); Salzmann (1910); Wolf (1910); Prittwitz-Gaffron (1912); Tsirimbas (1936). There is also a significant Italian contribution to this field. The two volumes of collected essays on aspects of gnomic literature in the ancient world that have been published by Funghi in (2003-2004) have immensely enriched our knowledge of wisdom literature. 5 See Edmunds (1997) 45-46. 2

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Chapter 1

Greek wisdom literature comprises various sub-genres, among which the Hypothekai occupy a central position.6 Gnomic statements must have been widely diffused not only because they belonged to folk-literature and so were shared by all Greek communities but also through school use, which is attested as early as the very beginnings of the 5th century BCE. The existence of compilations of maxims can be seen in various poetic collections with a strong gnomic element such as the pseudo-Hesiodic Ch(e)ironos Hypothekai (frs. 283-285 M.W.), the Theognidea, the verses of Pseudo-Phocylides and PseudoDemodocus, the precepts of the Seven Sages, the Gnomai Monostichoi of Menander.7 Gnomic literature constitutes a sub-genre in its own sake. This is not the place to offer even a summary of its evolution or to give the names of all collections of maxims and discuss their content. What is beyond doubt is that in the Classical period even the average educated citizen had at his disposal a real treasure of gnomic statements, which he could use in private epitaphs, a phenomenon strongly attested in fourth-century Athens.

The Greek Concept of γνῶμαι Gnomic statements abound in Greek literature since its very first beginnings. Almost all genres (epic, lyric, drama, historiography, rhetorical theory) employ maxims aiming to achieve various goals. I do not intend to give a thorough history of the γνώμη in Greek literature antedating the 4th century but to indicate some of the multiple uses of gnomic statements in different genres, in order to elucidate the reasons for their use in fourth-century Attic sepulchral epigrams. In each case, I will attempt to map out the main function of γνῶμαι, especially when their earlier use is relevant to their function within the framework of the inscriptional corpus under examination. One of the typical roles gnomic statements play in Homeric epic is to convince someone to do something good or refrain from doing something wrong.8 Such an argumentative, persuasion-oriented device is based on the innate authority the γνώμη transfers to the per_____________ 6 7 8

See Edmunds (1997) 45-46. For a detailed presentation of the γνώμη, see now Liapis (2002) 29-107; Funghi (2003-2004). On gnomic statements in Homeric epic, see Stickney (1903) 25-49; Ahrens (1937) 12-93; Villemonteix (1979) 85-96; Lardinois (1995) 42-188; Stenger (2004) 6-9.

The Use of Gnomic Expressions

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son who utters it.9 Maxims are also employed in cases where the poet aims at elevating the status of a given speaker, of adding force to his words and transforming him into an active agent of the plot. Hesiod’s Works and Days are well known, among other things, for the plethora of γνῶμαι scattered throughout the entire poem but piled up in greater numbers in its second part.10 These gnomic statements are often placed at the beginning or end of an argument and are constantly employed by the narrator of the Works and Days who “presents himself as a competent gnome-builder.” 11 Juxtaposition of maxims of various sorts is not uncommon. Some of them are expanded, doubled, tripled or even quadrupled.12 The systematic use of maxims by Pindar and Bacchylides has to be seen within the wider context of wisdom poetry to which belong the Hesiodic Works and Days, the Theognidean corpus, Pseudo-Phocylides, Pseudo-Demodocus and the fragmentary Ch(e)ironos Hypothekai. The use of γνῶμαι in the epinician poetry of Pindar and Bacchylides fulfills four distinct functions:13 (a) to create links between structural elements or larger units, which would be otherwise unconnected;14 (b) to ‘transfer’ the undisputed ethos of a gnomic statement to the epinicion itself.15 This is an implicit indication that victory in an athletic event is not an external or casual blessing or good but is based on the existence of internal values and put into their use; (c) to contribute, equally to the song’s afterlife and the poet’s fame, to the ‘immortality’ of an individual athletic victory;16 (d) to enable the audience to interpret and evaluate the epinicion. At the same time the poet is able to offer advice to his audience about how to connect the individual parts of his work to the whole.17 Within this framework, the γνώμη has be_____________ 9 10

11 12 13 14

15 16

17

A general account of Iliadic gnomic statements is offered by Lardinois (1997) 213-234. On maxims in Hesiod, see Hoekstra (1950) 89-114; Pellizer (1972) 24-37; Fernández Delgado (1978) 261-267, (1986). Lardinois (1995) 193. Lardinois (1995) 192. Stenger (2004) 52-55. See also Márquez Guerrero (1992); Stuligrosz (2000) 153-162. See Mackie (2003) 18 and n. 32, who observes that in Pindaric poetry gnomic statements are often placed at juncture points, especially when a break-off passage begins or ends. For the ‘closing maxims’ pattern in Pindar, see Olymp. 1.52-53; Olymp. 2.95-96; Olymp. 9.35-43; Pyth. 1.82-83; Nem. 3.29-31; Nem. 5.16-18; Nem. 6.53-57; Nem. 8.20-22; Nem. 10.20; Isthm. 5.52-53. See Arist. Rhet. 1395b12-13: ἠθικοὺς γὰρ ποιεῖ τοὺς λόγους. On the poetological foundations of gnomic statement in epinician poetry, see Stenger (2004) 318-344. On closural γνῶμαι in Pindar, see Rutherford (1997) 51, 58.

12

Chapter 1

come a “direct instrument, in order to interpret the victory and explicitly formulate its relevance.” 18 By delineating for the audience the parameters for its interpretation, the poet aims either at controlling the reception of his song or at least leading his listeners to the ‘meaning’ he has chosen for them in advance.19 Herodotean γνῶμαι form part of other traditional storytelling methods such as narrative patterns and paradigmatic tales20 and epitomize a “complex presentation in which the analysis of events is embedded in the narrative.” 21 A significant number of Herodotean gnomic statements have an explanatory function, especially those contradicting maxims that “clarify and distinguish two (or more) opposing points of view, but also … provide an explanation of why events turned out the way they did.” 22 In Thucydides23 generalizations about the behavior of states and mankind are widely employed by speakers aiming at “explaining, predicting or justifying recommendations.” 24 These kinds of proverbial statements in Thucydides can be classified into two categories: maxims and universal principles.25 The former are based on experience or common sense (often introduced by γάρ or τε), while the latter “articulate general rules of behavior” and refer to the wider range of applications possible (“signalled by αἰεί or a form of παντ-”). 26 Thucydidean maxims function on three distinct levels: (a) internally on the micro-level of the passage, i.e. in respect of the specific argument they support; (b) internally on the macro-level of the speech they are embedded in; (c) externally, i.e in reference to other situations in the entire work.27 This last type of maxim is reader-oriented, since the historian aims at selecting and highlighting through its use generalized phenomena permeating the entire History. Thucydides’ maxims and universal principles operate as devices that significantly deepen the historian’s outlook on his work as a whole. _____________ 18 19 20

21 22 23 24 25 26 27

Stenger (2004) 54. See Stenger (2004) 54. On the influence of traditional folk wisdom that has significantly determined the function of maxims in Herodotean narrative, see Lang (1984) 58-67; Gould (1989) 63-85. Shapiro (2000) 92. Shapiro (2000) 108. Meister (1955) 13. Dover (1981) 396. Only twelve of the approximately 200 Thucydidean maxims appear in narrative. See Meister (1955) 13. Morrison (2006) 272. Morrison (2006) 273. Meister (1955) 50-90.


13

Gnomic statements are found in all three tragedians28 but Euripides’ philosophical tone seems to have been a suitable framework for their more recurrent use.29 In general, γνῶμαι constitute a persuasive device reflecting common sense mirroring the position of humans in the world order. They characterize the speaker, add considerably to the creation of his ethos and are also used as a sophisticated medium by the author who aims at directing the reception of his work. The latter is colored in a very particular way, when gnomic statements are regularly used, the result being that the audience is brought closer to the poet’s Weltanschauung.30 The general viewpoint concerning the works of Euripides, who has been called γνωμολογικώτατος31 and sententiis densus,32 is the natural outcome of the philosophical tone with which his dramas are imbued.33 The Greeks themselves did not simply use expressions of popular wisdom in various literary genres, but became quite interested in their function, application and precise meaning. Γνώμη started its life as a literary term in the 4th century BCE, since it is used with this meaning in Isocrates’ To Nicocles (2) 44: … εἴ τις ἐκλέξειε τῶν προεχόντων ποιητῶν τὰς καλουμένας γνώμας … (if someone selected the so called γνῶμαι from the preeminent poets).34 Aristotle was the first who in the Rhetoric examined in some detail wisdom terms and his study of γνῶμαι is of particular importance to our research.35 In the section περὶ γνωμολογίας in Rhet. 1394a1395b20,36 Aristotle defined γνώμη in the following way (Rhet. 1394a21-25): ἔστι δὴ γνώμη ἀπόφανσις, οὐ μέντοι οὔτε περὶ τῶν καθ’ ἕκαστον, οἷον ποῖός τις Ἰφικράτης, ἀλλὰ καθόλου, οὔτε περὶ πάντων, οἷον ὅτι τὸ εὐθὺ τῷ

_____________ 28

29 30 31 32 33

34

35

36

On Aeschylus, see Zanichelli (1990) 65-76; Grimaldi (1999) 421-476. On Aeschylus, Sophocles, and Euripides, see Koch (1887-1892); Linde (1896). On Euripides’ use of maxims, see Stevens (1976); Most (2003) 141-166. Stenger (2004) 26. See Most (2003) 141-166. Quintilian 10.1.68. I owe this reference to Most (2003) 144. See Athenaeus 4.158e (cf. 13.561a), who has neatly characterized Euripides as ὁ σκηνικὸς οὗτος φιλόσοφος. I owe this reference to Kannicht (1997) 69 n. 10. See also Most (2003) 144. For a detailed presentation of the Greeks’ concern with proverbs, proverbial expressions and maxims, see Bielohlawek (1940) 6, 34-35, 53-59, 63-66; Kindstrand (1978) 71-85; see also the introductory notes of Shapiro (2000) 89-92. Lardinois (1995) 7-13 offers a detailed discussion of Aristotle’s definition and interpretation of γνώμη. See also Searby (1998); Liapis (2002) 13-17. I follow Ross’ OCT edition.

14

Chapter 1 καμπύλῳ ἐναντίον, ἀλλὰ περὶ ὅσων αἱ πράξεις εἰσί, καὶ αἱρετὰ ἢ φευκτά ἐστι πρὸς τὸ πράττειν. A maxim is an assertion—not, however, one about particulars, such as what kind of a person Iphicrates is, but of a general sort, and not about everything (for example, not that the straight is the opposite of the crooked) but about the things that involve actions and are to be chosen or avoided in regard to action.37

This Aristotelian definition must be coupled with the philosopher’s famous distinction between universal and general statements in On Interpretation 7.17a38-17b16:38 ᾽Επεὶ δέ ἐστι τὰ μὲν καθόλου τῶν πραγμάτων τὰ δὲ καθ᾽ ἕκαστον, —λέγω δὲ καθόλου μὲν ὃ ἐπὶ πλειόνων πέφυκε κατηγορεῖσθαι, καθ᾽ ἕκαστον δὲ ὃ μή, οἷον ἄνθρωπος μὲν τῶν καθόλου, Καλλίας δὲ τῶν καθ’ ἕκαστον,— ἀνάγκη δὲ ἀποφαίνεσθαι ὡς ὑπάρχει τι ἢ μή, ὁτὲ μὲν τῶν καθόλου τινί, ὁτὲ δὲ τῶν καθ’ ἕκαστον. ἐὰν μὲν οὖν καθόλου ἀποφαίνηται ἐπὶ τοῦ καθόλου ὅτι ὑπάρχει ἢ μή, ἔσονται ἐναντίαι αἱ ἀποφάνσεις, —λέγω δὲ ἐπὶ τοῦ καθόλου ἀποφαίνεσθαι καθόλου, οἷον πᾶς ἄνθρωπος λευκός, οὐδεὶς ἄνθρωπος λευκός˙— ὅταν δὲ ἐπὶ τῶν καθόλου μέν, μὴ καθόλου δέ, οὐκ εἰσὶν ἐναντίαι, τὰ μέντοι δηλούμενα ἔστιν εἶναι ἐναντία, —λέγω δὲ τὸ μὴ καθόλου ἀποφαίνεσθαι ἐπὶ τῶν καθόλου, οἷον ἔστι λευκὸς ἄνθρωπος, οὐκ ἔστι λευκὸς ἄνθρωπος· καθόλου γὰρ ὄντος τοῦ ἄνθρωπος οὐχ ὡς καθόλου χρῆται τῇ ἀποφάνσει· τὸ γὰρ πᾶς οὐ τὸ καθόλου σημαίνει ἀλλ’ ὅτι καθόλου.— ἐπὶ δὲ τοῦ κατηγορουμένου τὸ καθόλου κατηγορεῖν καθόλου οὐκ ἔστιν ἀληθές˙ οὐδεμία γὰρ κατάφασις ἔσται, ἐν ᾗ τοῦ κατηγορουμένου καθόλου τὸ καθόλου κατηγορηθήσεται, οἷον ἔστι πᾶς ἄνθρωπος πᾶν ζῷον. Now of actual things some are universal, others particular (I call universal that which is by its nature predicated of a number of things, and particular that which is not; man, for instance, is a universal, Callias a particular). So it must sometimes be of a universal that one states that something holds or does not, sometimes of a particular. Now if one states universally of a universal that something holds or does not, there will be contrary statements (examples of what I mean by ‘stating universally of a universal’ are: every man is white—a man is not white). But when one states something of a universal but not universally, the statements are not contrary (though what is being revealed may be contrary). Examples of what I mean by ‘stating of a universal not universally’ are: a man is white—a man is not white; man is a universal but it is not used universally in the statement (for ‘every’ does not signify the universal but that it is taken universally). It is not true to predicate a universal universally of a subject, for there cannot be an affirmation in

_____________ 37 38

Translation by Kennedy (1991) 182. I follow the text of Minio-Paluello (1956) and the translation of Ackrill (1984).


15

which a universal is predicated universally of a subject, for instance: every man is every animal.

Aristotle’s definition of γνώμη and his distinction between universal and general statements is of key importance for understanding what a maxim really is. The two crucial observations Aristotle has made is (a) the generalizing character of the γνώμη and (b) its lack of general applicability, that is to say its aptness to a particular situation. Therefore, following Lardinois, we may define the γνώμη as “a generalizing statement about a particular action.”39 The generalizing character of the γνώμη is further supported by Anaximenes of Lampsacus (Ars Rhetorica 11.1, p. 38, 4-5 Fuhrmann): γνώμη δέ ἐστι μὲν ὡς ἐν κεφαλαίῳ καθ᾽ ὅλων τῶν πραγμάτων δόγματος ἰδίου δήλωσις. Other definitions of γνῶμαι have been given by the author of ad Herennium 4.17.24: ‘sententia est oratio sumpta de vita, quae aut quid sit aut quid esse oporteat in vita breviter ostendit’, by [Hermogenes], Progymnasmata 4: γνώμη ἐστὶ λόγος κεφαλαιώδης ἐν ἀποφάνσει καθολικῇ ἀποτρέπων τι ἢ προτρέπων ἐπί τι ἢ ὁποῖον ἕκαστόν τι δηλῶν, and by Priscianus, Praeexercitamina 4 (De sententia): ‘sententia est oratio generalem pronuntationem habens, hortans ad aliquam rem vel dehortans vel demonstrans quale sit aliquid’.40 This brief sketch regarding the concept and use of gnomic statements in antiquity shows that maxims were employed to persuade an addressee to follow or refrain from a course of action, to elevate the status of a speaker or to confer authority on his work, to explain complicated points of view, to link the particular to the universal and, last but not least, to question the very foundations (religious, philosophical, ethical, political) upon which the Greek worldview was constructed. Most of the above observations with respect to the way Greek literary genres had treated gnomic statements are also valid to our examination of the use of maxims in fourth-century funerary epigrams. What modern approaches contributed to this ongoing concern about the function of maxims is, as will be shown, the search for specific dictional features that enabled us to place gnomic statements in the realm of oral forms of expression common to all members of a given community in place and time.

_____________ 39 40

Lardinois (1995) 12. I owe all these references to Liapis (2002) 13-14, 79-83 (Appendix A2).

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Chapter 1

Modern Approaches Modern encyclopaedias and lexica41 distinguish between three separate meanings which constitute the entire semantic field covered by the term γνώμη: (a) ability to recognize and know, (b) criterion or measure for recognizing and knowing, and (c) the result of the ability to know and recognize, namely knowledge. Γνώμη is a nomen actionis with ‘kognitive, deliberative und voluntative Elemente: «Erkenntnis» [knowledge], «Einsicht» [inspection], «Meinung» [opinion], «Entschluss» [decision] (sogar «Wille» [Will]), «Weisung» [instruction], «massgebliches Urteil» [definitive judgement], «Antrag» [proposal], «Beschluss» [decision] und «Richtersprache» [judgement, sentence]’. 42 Γνώμη is usually translated into English as ‘maxim’43 and can be defined as a brief, compact expression of generalizing character referring to a particular action or to a concrete situation and is based on a pattern-shaped phrase. Γνῶμαι are especially appropriate in arguments relating or distinguishing particular and general but they can be also used on their own as self-sufficient maxims.44 They can be ‘the final part of the logical structure called the enthymeme’45 and they are more at home at the mouth of old people who speak authoritatively.46 To Aristotle’s content-based criteria for classification of γνῶμαι, Most47 has recently added a list of linguistic features pertaining to gnomic statements. These criteria are of great help for studying the structure and subsequently understanding the function of maxims: _____________ 41

42

43

44 45 46

47

See Gärtner, RE s.v. ‘Gnome’ (for definitions of γνώμη see col. 1108) and Silk OCD s.v. ‘gnome’ (640). Extremely useful are also the older lemmata by Horna and von Fritz, RE s.v. ‘gnome’ (VI, cols. 74-90), and Huart (1973) 11-13. See also the relevant discussion in Liapis (2002) 13. Gärtner, RE s.v. ‘Gnome’. The English translations between brackets are mine. Silk’s alternative rendering of the term γνώμη as ‘aphorism’ (OCD s.v. ‘gnome’ [640]) is not accurate; see the distinctions made in page 9 of this study and also Gärtner (RE s.v. ‘Gnome’ col. 1109). Silk, OCD s.v. ‘gnome’ (640). Russo (1997) 49-64, 143-149 and in particular 56. See Arist. Rhet. 1395a2-6; Demetrius (On Style 232). Russo (1997) 57 rightly observes: “It might appear that Demetrius diverges from Aristotle by assuming that proverbs characterize common people’s speech, whereas Aristotle said that rustics characteristically used maxims. But their comments may be reconciled by noting that both authors share the judgement that rustics (and young people) lack the knowledge to use maxims properly and so are prone to inappropriate gnômologia.” Most (2003) 146.


17

(a) Quantificatory (all men-none, many-few) (b) Deictic ‘generalizing’ markers (τοιοῦτος, οὗτος, ὅστις) (c) Evaluative terminology (adjectives: good, bad, adverbs, nouns [qualities and moral defects], verbs, neutral predicats) (d) Verbs (aspect, tense) (e) Particles: τοι, γάρ / δέ, ἀλλά (f) Style: brevity, precision / repetition, parallelism / contrast, antonymes / parataxis preferred to hypotaxis. The abovementioned criteria speak for the importance of studying maxims as a form of special speech that is imbued with distinct and recognizable linguistic markers. Given that all speech is inherently performative, the application of these criteria to our corpus of inscribed gnomic expressions is especially valid, since inscribed epigrams aim at gaining a readership. Viewed from this vantage point, γνῶμαι are studied as modes of communication between the anonymous versifiers and the person(s) who commissioned their composition and erection of the funerary monument on the one hand, and the passers-by who would stop and read them. Public display of the monument and private commemoration of the deceased delineate the framework within which we should place the interpretation of the aforementioned linguistic markers. In this sense, it is no commonplace to say that the dictional typology of gnomic statements pertains to the staging of metrical epitaphs by future passers-by. Before testing these criteria to the gnomic statements attested in fourth-century epigrams, let us first present the corpus of γνῶμαι we will deal with.

Corpus of γνῶμαι There are sixteen gnomic statements in the entire corpus of fourthcentury Attic funerary epigrams. 1. IG II2 10435 = CEG 487 πάντων ἀνθρώπων νόμος ἐ|στὶ κοινὸς τὸ ἀποθανε̃ν. …| 2. IG II2 10998 = CEG 489 τὸς ἀγαθὸς ἔστερξεν Ἄρης, ἐφίλησε δ’ ἔπαινος, | καὶ γήραι νεότης οὐ παρέδωχ’ ὑβρίσαι· |

18

Chapter 1 3. CEG 49348 ὅστις ἔπαινος ἄριστος ἐν ἀνθρώποισι γυναικῶν, | Xαιρίππη τούτο πλεῖστον ἔχουσ’ ἔθανεν· | 4. CEG 518 = ΣΕΜΑ 2313 πᾶσι θανεῖν ἵμαρτα ὅσοι ζῶσιν, σὺ δὲ πένθος 5. CEG 520 χαίρετε· κοινὸν γὰρ ῥῆμα τόδ’ ἐστὶ βροτοῖς. | 6. CEG 525 ὁ ̃ σπάνις ἐστὶ γυνακί, ἐσθλὴν καὶ σώφρονα φῦναι | τὴν αὐτήν, δοκίμως τοῦδ’ ἔτυχεγ Γλυκέρα. 7. CEG 559 εἴ τι δικαιοσύ[ν]ης ἆθλον τίθεται κατὰ γαίας, | Εὔφανες, οὐ χαλεπὸν τοῦδέ σε πρῶτα λαβε͂ν. 8. IG II2 7873 = CEG 571 … εἴπερ χρηστοῖς γέρας ἐ̣στίν, πρώτει σοι τι̣[μα]|ί, τίτθη, παρὰ Φερσεφόνει Πλούτωνί τε κεῖνται. 9. IG II2 11594 = CEG 575 ca. 6 [εἰ θέμις ἦν] θ̣νητὴν ἐναρίθμι|ο[ν Ó Ô˘Ô ο]υσαν ἀθανάταις | νο[μίσαι, σοὶ] τὸ γέρας τόδ’ ἂν | ἦν, Ἡράκλ[ει]α· ... 10. IG II2 11974 = CEG 577 [π]άντων ὧν θέμις ἐστὶ τυχεῖν εὐδαίμοσι θνητοῖς ´ | ζῶσά τε ἐκοινώνουν καὶ φθιμένη μετέχω. | 11. CEG 586 = ΣΕΜΑ 1375 [π]ολλ[ο]ῖς ἀνηὸν δαίμων βίον ὤπασε προῖκ[α], | παύροισιν δὲ ἔτυμογ κτῆμα δικαιοσύνην,| 12. IG II2 11169 = CEG 593 ὀθεὶς μόχθος ἔπαινον ἐπ’ ἀνδράσι τοῖς ἀγαθοῖσιν | ζητεῖν, ηὕρηται δὲ ἄφθονος εὐλογία· | 13. CEG 594 = ΣΕΜΑ 527 εἴ τις τῶν ἀγαθῶν μνείαν ἔχει ἐν δορὸς ἀλκεῖ, | πρῶτον κρίνων {ων} ἂν τόνδε δίκης μετέχοι· | 14. IG II2 7863 = CEG 595 εἰ τὸ καλῶς ἔστι θανεῖν, κἀμοὶ τοῦτ’ ἀπένειμε Τύχη· |

_____________ 48

See also CEG 581 (if the restoration is correct).


19

15. IG II2 5501 = CEG 600 εἰ τὰ θεῶν τιμᾶν̲ χ̲ρ̲ηστῶν τ’ ἔργων ἐπιθυμεῖν | καὶ τὸ δικαιόσυν[όν τε φίλο]ν τε φίλοισι προσεῖναι | δόξα ἀρετή τε βροτοῖς καὶ ἀνενκλήτως βιοτεῦσαι, | πάντα σὺ ταῦτʼ ἔσχες, Μ̲νησαρ̲χίδη̣, ἀπροφ̲ασίστως̲. 16. IG II2 6551 = CEG 603 εἰ δέ τις εὐσεβίας παρὰ Φερσεφόνει χάρις ἐστίν, | καὶ σοὶ τῆσδε μέρος δῶκε Τύχη φθιμένει.

A Gnomic Grammar Gnomic statements exemplify a typology of features both stemming from and pertaining to their special role as a recognizable sub-genre. The generalizing force of maxims, their authority-conferring power, quantificatory nature, and consolatory tone constitute the basic pillars upon which their particular ‘grammar’ has been constructed. Under these interpretive parameters, determining the specific style of the gnomic statements of our corpus is not simply a literary feature satisfying the classificatory desires of a modern scholar. On the contrary, it amounts to the very function of maxims within the larger framework of the complex ‘monument-inscription’, and by extension to the performativity of a given sub-genre such as the γνώμη. The latter is now recontextualized within its new environment, since the broadly shared truth advertised by the maxim acquires a certain intermediality bringing closer the ‘monument-deceased’ complex and the future passers-by, who would stop and read the inscription aloud. Quantificatory Terminology The use of quantificatory devices reflects the generalizing function of the γνώμη, which is inherent in its very nature. Quantificatory devices employed in the gnomic statements of our corpus fall into two categories: (a) the absolute, and (b) the comparative. By absolute I am designating those dictional means encompassing the entire community. In this conception, the analogy with the superlative degree of adjectives may be instructive, the more so since both categories express either the highest degree of a given quality (superlatives) or the widest possible range of a phenomenon (γνῶμαι). In CEG 487 (πάντων ἀνθρώπων νόμος ἐ|στὶ κοινὸς τὸ ἀποθανε̃ν), the

20

Chapter 1

quantificatory terms πάντων ἀνθρώπων and κοινός delineate the widest range of application possible. The event of the deceased’s death, a personalised event commemorated in a private epitaph, acquires larger proportions, as it is presented as a dire necessity having the force of a ‘law’ (νόμος). In CEG 518 (πᾶσι θανεῖν ἵμαρται ὅσοι ζῶσιν, σὺ δὲ πένθος / ...) it is emphatically stated that death is the common fate of all men. Conversely, the author of the epitaph will in the ensuing verses focus on the grief and mourning of a particular group of people, i.e. the deceased’s family. Under this scope, the gnomic statement placed at the epitaph’s beginning functions like a proem introducing the epigram’s main theme. Its philosophical tone and generalizing nature aims at situating the personal event of death within the larger context of human fate. In CEG 520 (... / χαίρετε· κοινὸν γὰρ ῥῆμα τόδ’ ἐστὶ βροτοῖς) the quantificatory combination κοινὸν ... βροτοῖς bridges the initial address to the deceased’s friends (ὦ φίλοι ἡμέτεροι, χρηστὶ πιστὶ διὰ παντός) with a gnomic statement covering all mortal men. Moreover, the use of the word βροτοί, instead of the rather uncolored ἄνθρωποι, implicitly hints at the fact that humans are expendable. The address (χαίρετε),49 contrary to earlier practice, refers now to the living, not to the dead. The gnomic ‘pitch’ of the ensuing expression discloses the new tone these epitaphs are imbued with, since the threnodic overtones, which are clearly downplayed or absent altogether, have given their place to a consolatory feeling towards the living.50 Grief has been replaced by consolation.51 The dictional concinnity of this skilfull interplay between the ‘personalized’ initial address and the ‘generalized’ ensuing γνώμη shows that quantificatory terminology in use is not a simple concomitant feature of the maxim but an elaborate and effective mechanism that allows the epitaph’s author to make sophisticated

_____________ 49 50 51

See Sourvinou-Inwood (1995a) 180-216, esp. 200-210. See Rossi (1999) 33. It would have been interesting to know to what extent the tradition of Simonidean and Pindaric threnos with its gnomic-consolatory tone has influenced fourth-century epigrammatic themes and conventions as far as inscribed sepulchral epigrams are concerned. In the case of Simonides, this investigation becomes all the more intriguing, given the existence of an epigrammatic collection of Simonidea circulating at least in Athens. On the gnomic-consolatory nature of the Simonidean and Pindaric threnos, see Harvey (1955) 157-175, esp. 168; Cannatà Fera (1990) 23; Yatromanolakis (1998) 1-11. On the origins and development of the Sylloge Simonidea, see Sider (2007) 113130.


21

connections between the singularity of the commemorated event and the repetitivity of the performance.52 Conversely, by comparative I am referring to expressions that designate smaller groups of people (family, relatives, social groups). This decrease of the quantification’s range must not at all be seen as a subsequent decrease of the maxim’s force or weight. It is rather a mechanism of specialization and particularization of the gnomic statement’s application to a specific group of individuals. The reason behind this strategy is often the implicit conferring of a positive quality on the deceased. In CEG 594 (εἴ τις τῶν ἀγαθῶν μνείαν ἔχει ἐν δορὸς ἀλκεῖ), the quantificatory expression τῶν ἀγαθῶν stands for a covert praise to the deceased, since the reader of the epitaph will at once ‘situate’ the dead Diognetos within the ‘fictional’ community of the ἀγαθοί. Likewise, the use of the expression (CEG 571) … εἴπερ χρηστοῖς, γέρας ἐ̣στίν indicates that the deceased (who is going to be mentioned by name in the following verse) is recognized as a member of that special χρηστοί-community. Another form of comparative quantification is based on the use of polar opposites for designating groups of people. In CEG 586 [π]ολλ[ο]ῖς ἀνηὸν δαίμων βίον ὤπασε προῖκ[α], | παύροισιν δὲ ἔτυμογ κτῆμα δικαιοσύνην.|...), the antithesis between πολλοῖς-παύροισιν becomes the foil for the positive focalization of the deceased, who is presented as belonging to a special community, the community of the righteous few. In this way, the reader realizes that the first antithesis is a vehicle carrying him to a second opposition, lying at the very heart of the gnomic statement, i.e. the ἀνηόν … βίον - ἔτυμογ κτῆμα δικαιοσύνην. The initial quantificatory reference functions, therefore, as a zooming technique onto the internal nucleus of the γνώμη, paving the way for appreciating the nature of the indirect praise attributed to the deceased. When this is done, then the gnomic statement has fulfilled its role, and the author of the epitaph can proceed to the particulars pertaining to the deceased’s past life. Anaphoric ‘Generalizing’ Markers (ὅστις, οὗ) and Deixis The use of anaphoric markers is noteworthy, for it reveals some of the ex silentio functions of gnomic statements. Since anaphoric markers refer in general to something already stated, their use at the beginning of epitaphs needs to be explained. I suggest that this phenome_____________ 52

For this aspect of quantificatory terminology included in the γνῶμαι, see the section ʻVoice in Text: Oral Maxims and the Vocality of Performanceʼ.

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non is due to the very nature of gnomic statements, whose decoding presupposes the sharing of a certain amount of knowledge by all members of a cultural community. In CEG 489 (ὅστις ἔπαινος ἄριστος ἐν ἀνθρώποισιν γυναικῶν, | / Xαιρίππη τούτο πλεῖστον ἔχουσ’ ἔθανεν· | …), the nature of the best praise for women is not stated but assumed as known. In fact, the fluidity of the expression (ὅστις … τούτο πλεῖστον ἔχουσ’) may also indicate that the composer of the epitaph wished to leave open for his future readers a ‘window of interpretive opportunity’, i.e. to allow them to give to the ‘best praise … for women’ (ἔπαινος ἄριστος … γυναικῶν) whatever meaning would have been appropriate on a personal basis. In this way, every time the maxim (and the epitaph) would be read, the future reader would be able to recontextualize the gnomic statement, even at the expense of deconstructing its ‘original’ meaning. In CEG 525 (ὁ̃ σπάνις ἐστὶ γυνακί, ἐσθλὴν καὶ σώφρονα φῦναι | τὴν αὐτήν, δοκίμως τοῦδ’ ἔτυχεγ Γλυκέρα), the anaphoric marker ὁ̃ is subsequently explained (ἐσθλὴν καὶ σώφρονα φῦναι | τὴν αὐτήν). This time, the applicability of the γνώμη to any future reader’s beliefs is annulled, since the epitaph’s composer has decided to limit the maxim’s range by tailoring it to current fourth-century ideas. Nevertheless, this particular phrasing of the gnomic statement is significantly different from saying e.g. ‘it is rare for the same woman to be both ἐσθλή and σώφρων’. Whereas the latter simply expresses a general statement, CEG 525 reinforces it considerably by stressing the fact that it is the deceased Glykera who genuinely (δοκίμως) embodied the meaning expressed by this maxim. In this case, the anaphoric device acquires its full semantic potential when tied to the particularity of this specific commemoration, as indicated by the use of a correlative device (ὁ̃ ... τοῦδ’). Deixis is often employed in the tenor following gnomic statements. Before I embark on a discussion of the particular forms of deixis used in our corpus, let me briefly clarify the relevant terminology. The basic distinction is that proposed by Bühler53 between deixis ad oculos (pertaining to extra-textual realia), textual (backward or anaphoric and forward or cataphoric) and deixis am Phantasma or fictional deixis (designating objects existing only to the extent that they are named or referred to). This trichotomy of the deictic universe representing ocular, textual, and fictional phenomena aims at engaging audiences in a significantly more profound level of interpretation. The degree of difficulty involved in this process depends on the referent. When it is _____________ 53

See Bühler (1990).


23

close and visible, the audience can draw inferences with greater ease. The effort needed to comprehend this kind of interplay increases when the referent is distal in time and place, whereas it becomes even more difficult when it is fictional.54 Deixis operates on a twodimensional grid referring to time and space. Since I will deal with time separately (see the section on ʻTensesʼ), it will suffice to say that space is indicated by personal, deictic pronouns (a wider category than demonstratives), and adverbs. In the case of grave epigrams, the gnomic statement expressing a universally accepted, generalizing belief is inscribed on a monument, that is to say an object visible and directly perceptible by its future reader. Under this scope, spatial deixis plays a key role with respect to the localization of the focus of interest. The interplay, which may be adverbial (here/there), pronominal (this/that), or adjectival (this/that),55 determines the way readers are invited to comprehend the relation between a generalizing statement (expressed by the γνώμη) and an individualized reference pertaining only to the specific monument they are looking at. A comparison between three epitaphs of our corpus where different forms of spatial deixis are employed can be illuminating. In CEG 493 (ὅστις ἔπαινος ἄριστος ἐν ἀνθρώποισι γυναικῶν, | / Xαιρίππη τούτο πλεῖστον ἔχουσ’ ἔθανεν· | …), the designation of the deceased is in the third person, whereas in CEG 559 (εἴ τι δικαιοσύ[ν]ης ἆθλον τίθεται κατὰ γαίας, | Εὔφανες, οὐ χαλεπὸν τοῦδέ σε πρῶτα λαβε̃ν) the deceased is addressed in the second person. In CEG 595 (εἰ τὸ καλῶς ἔστι θανεῖν, κἀμοὶ τοῦτ’ ἀπένειμε Τύχη· | | ...), the deictic center is the ego of the dead man, who speaks from his grave. Despite the fact that all three epitaphs begin with a gnomic statement, they subsequently find recourse to divergent forms of spatial deixis. This difference is significant for the interpretation of the epitaph by a future passer-by who would stop and read the inscription. In CEG 493, the focal center of the speech-act is a nonparticipant, a third person, someone who is neither the ‘voice from the grave’ nor the reader. In this case, the valuable and generally applicable truth expressed by the maxim is presented to the reader in a rather impersonal, uninvolved manner. A statement is made concerning the deceased Chairippe, as if someone is relating or reporting to a passer-by something that must be made known. This is a case of what has been _____________ 54

55

For a recent and balanced presentation of the theory of deixis, see Felson (2004) 253-266, esp. 253-255. Felson (2004) 257. See also Labarbe (1968) 361.

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called a static locative,56 i.e. a communicative situation in which both interactive members (speaker and addressee) remain where they are, keeping the interpretive effort required by the reader to the minimum. As pointed out above, the audience is free to comprehend the maxim by giving the gnomic statement ὅστις ἔπαινος ἄριστος ἐν ἀνθρώποισι γυναικῶν a meaning that suits its own beliefs. Conversely, in CEG 559 where the zero point or origo is the audience ‘addressing’ the dead Euphanes, the reader is envisaged as an active participant in the speech-act, since it is he/she who speaks to the deceased at the very moment of reading the epitaph. By ‘addressing’ the dead Euphanes in the second person and subsequently assuming his/her ‘physical’ position as passer-by, the reader follows his/her regular centrifugal ablative form of displacement,57 i.e. he/she ‘moves’ towards the other end of the communicative spectrum, the youdeceased. This form of displacement engages the reader in anchoring the meaning of the preceding maxim to the conversational role he assumes while staging the epitaph. In this way, the reader will reconfirm in his own voice the awarding of the ‘prize of justice’ (ἆθλον δικαιοσύνης) to Euphanes. It is as if the fictive moment of awarding this prize to the deceased is verbally reenacted, when the reader bequeathes Euphanes with his/her performance of the epitaph. In CEG 595, where the deictic center is the deceased, the reader’s voice would, at the moment of reading the inscription, ‘transfer’ itself to the other end of the communicative spectrum, i.e. to the dead man who is presented as speaking. In this last case (Bühler’s term is centripetal allative),58 spatial deixis allows the composer of the epitaph to orchestrate a subtle communicative game, since the physical relation deceased-passer-by is not ‘translated’ into a conversational ‘deceased/grave-reader’ link but into a ‘deceased via reader’-reader relation. In other words, the reader is asked to assume at the moment of staging the epitaph the voice of the deceased. Under this parameter, the reader would be faced with an interpretive conundrum: is it possible for him to be at the same time a ‘staged-made speaking I’ and a silent ‘listening you’? It is exactly this twofold role the reader is invited to play because of spatial deixis that bears a special relation to the gnomic statement at the beginning of the epitaph. By assuming the position of the deceased during the staging of the inscription the reader is encouraged to assimilate notionally himself with the maxim _____________ 56 57 58

See Felson (2004) 260. Bühler (1990) 150. See Felson (2004) 260.


25

the deceased utters at the moment of the performance. The staging therefore of the inscribed epitaph is, to a certain extent, a reperformance of the original funerary rite. In this way, the generalizing force of the gnomic statement would be even more effective, since the passer-by will as reader assume the very position of the deceased, he will ‘borrow’ his voice and express the general truth inherent in the maxim. One of the principal forms of spatial deixis used in the tenor following a maxim is the pronominal ‘this’ or ‘this here’: CEG 493 ὅστις ἔπαινος ἄριστος ... Χαιρίππη τούτο πλεῖστον ἔχουσ᾽ ἔθανεν˙ | CEG 520 χαίρετε· κοινὸν γὰρ ῥῆμα τόδ’ ἐστὶ βροτοῖς. | CEG 525 ὁ̃ σπάνις ἐστὶ … … τοῦδ’ ἔτυχεγ Γλυκέρα. CEG 559 εἴ τι δικαιοσύ[ν]ης ἆθλον τίθεται ... … τοῦδέ σε πρῶτα λαβε̃ν. CEG 575 ca. 6 [εἰ θέμις ἦν] θ̣νητὴν ἐναρίθμι|ο[ν Ó Ô˘Ô ο]υσαν ἀθανάταις | νο[μίσαι, σοὶ] τὸ γέρας τόδ’ ἂν | ἦν, CEG 595 εἰ τὸ καλῶς ἔστι θανεῖν, κἀμοὶ τοῦτ’ ἀπένειμε Τύχη· | CEG 600 εἰ τὰ θεῶν τιμᾶν̲ χ̲ρ̲ηστῶν τ’ ἔργων ἐπιθυμεῖν | καὶ τὸ δικαιόσυν[όν τε φίλο]ν τε φίλοισι προσεῖναι | δόξα ἀρετή τε βροτοῖς καὶ ἀνενκλήτως βιοτεῦσαι, | πάντα σὺ ταῦτʼ ἔσχες, Μ̲νησαρ̲χίδη̣, ἀπροφ̲ασίστως̲. CEG 603 εἰ δέ τις εὐσεβίας παρὰ Φερσεφόνει χάρις ἐστίν, | καὶ σοὶ τῆσδε μέρος δῶκε Τύχη φθιμένει.

The use of a deictic device pointing not to a visual feature of the monument or stele, but to the textual reality of the preceding maxim entails significant interpretive consequences for the reader. Contrary to oracular deixis, where space pertains to the concrete, observable extra-textual objects, in textual deixis localization takes place within

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the limits of the text, in our case the grave epigram. By employing textual deixis, the author expects from the readers to notice the anaphoric direction of the referent (the γνώμη) and to place themselves ‘within the text’. In order to ‘look’ at something that precedes in respect of textual order, readers need to place themselves within that very order, as if they are following a dictional iter and are asked to look back at something placed behind the point their eyes are focusing on. In this way, the maxim gains in vividness and force, it is presented as a tangible reality, as a fictive object that can be pointed at, as if it is has been metamorphosed from an abstract generalization into a concrete reality displayed to the audience. To this extent, the reading of the γνώμη coallesces with its viewing. Evaluative Terminology The use of evaluative terminology is not always included in the gnomic statement, but follows in the tenor that caps the maxim. This is consonant with the fact that the gnome functions in the epitaphs under examination as a foil or vehicle for the expression of a particular point concerning the deceased. In our corpus of inscribed epitaphs the majority of gnomic statements contain an evaluative statement expressed by an adverb. In CEG 493 and 603, the expressions πλεῖστον (μέρος) and μέρος respectively show the extent to which the aforementioned γνώμη is applied to the deceased. The generalization of the maxim is thus tagged to the particular departed commemorated in the epitaph. Moreover, the deceased women are covertly praised, as the evaluative adverb measures their lives and characters against the norm of wide acceptance, such as suggested by the gnomic statement. In CEG 559, 571 and 594, the evaluative mechanism is expressed in terms of order. The adverbial numeral πρῶτα (559) and the numeral adjectives πρώτει (571) and πρῶτον (594) bring forward a different form of praise for the deceased. While in the case of πλεῖστον (μέρος) and μέρος the evaluation was done in quantitative terms, here it is done qualitatively. The deceased is ‘presented’ to the readers of the inscription as the first among a group of people being in the same condition with them. In some cases, this qualitative highlighting of the departed is combined with a focusing on how they have embodied the content of the gnomic statement. Euphanes (559), therefore, is presented as the winner of the contest of justice (δικαιοσύ[ν]ης ἆθλον), in whose games he has easily (οὐ χαλεπόν) won the first prize (ἆθλον


27

... σε πρῶτα λαβε̃ν). The conceptualization of the gnomic statement is hereby typical of the praising stategy of these epitaphs. Likewise, the nurse of Hippostrate (571) and Diognetos (594) respectively occupy the first place within the framework of fictive rewards attributed to them in their proper epitaphs. And what is even more important, while awarding prizes to the deceased by using athletic terminology, the anonymous composers of these sepulchral epigrams assume the same position as a poet like Pindar and Bacchylides, who have been assigned the composition of an epinicion for a winner in one of the Pan-Hellenic games. Pindar- and Bacchylides-like, the authors of these private epitaphs use gnomic statements as a foil for praising the deceased.59 Their use of athletic vocabulary must be seen under the light of a rivalry-imbued or comparison-oriented tendency inherent in the tradition of Greek lament, where the deceased seems to participate in a race for praise with other men.60 The evaluative expression of how the deceased has embodied the beliefs expressed by the gnomic statement can also be expressed independently, i.e. without any qualitative reference. In CEG 525, the word δοκίμως, which is often found in a lament context,61 results in the underscoring of Glykera’s ‘true’ embodiment of a rare female quality. The emphasis on the manner in which Glykera shared the content of the aforementioned maxim must be therefore seen not as mourning-inspiring because of her loss, but as consolation for having had such an exceptional life. Likewise, in CEG 600 the evaluative adverb ἀπροφασίστως, expressing the way the deceased Mnesarchides epitomized a whole catalogue of positive qualities listed in the preceding γνώμη, is brilliantly placed at the very end of the entire composition. Epitaph-completion and evaluative terminology are effectively orchestrated in order to praise the deceased. The glory and ἀρετή indicated in the grave epigram must, therefore, be given to Mnesarchides unhesitantly (ἀπροφασίστως), i.e. in the very same manner in which he had fulfilled the beliefs expressed by the lengthy maxim inscribed on his marble stele.

_____________ 59 60 61

See Bundy (1962) 28-29, 52-78. On Homer, see Tsagalis (2004) 36-39. See also CEG 594. It is used in a lament context in Aesch. Pers. (546-547: κἀγὼ δὲ μόρον τῶν οἰχομένων / αἴρω δοκίμως πολυπενθῆ) and in Attic funeral orations.

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Tenses The tenseless present and the gnomic aorist are the most frequently used tenses in the corpus of gnomic statements found in these epigrams.62 The former’s lack of fixed temporality (Zeitlosigkeit) may be continuing an old timeless present63 and may have retained something of the oldest authority of the proper present tense used in gnomic statements.64 The same is the case with the gnomic aorist,65 which has a timeless aspect66 and may have originated from moral statements placed at the end of fables from which they were separated at one point, only to be used independently at a later date.67 In Homer, the gnomic aorist is used “pour exprimer un procès typique et se trouve dans les sentences.” 68 Keeping these observations in mind it is not difficult to explain the interchange between timeless present and timeless gnomic aorist attested in the gnomic statements of our corpus. The γνώμη, as noted before, is “a generalizing statement about a particular action” and therefore, both the tenseless present and the gnomic aorist situate the action out of time giving to it an authority independent from timeconstraints and imbued with the prestige of an all-embracing reality. To that extent, gnomic statements seem to belong to a whole category of utterances which are characterized by their timelessness in the sense that they “function as generalizing experience and incorporating acknowledged cultural views of both the civilized and natural worlds.” 69 A private epitaph is, by its very nature, faced with a basic communicative as well as expressive problem, i.e. to bridge or overcome the gap between the singularity of a person’s death on the one hand, and the general appreciation that is wished for him and is effectuated by his permanent commemoration on the other. At first, one should bear in mind that the very commissioning of the building or erection of a funerary monument either in the form of a stele or base _____________ 62 63 64

65 66 67 68 69

Schwyzer and Debrunner (1950) 270. Schwyzer and Debrunner (1950) 270. Schwyzer and Debrunner (1950) 270-271. On the prevalence of independent clauses over secondary ones in the γνῶμαι of funerary epigrams, see Labarbe (1968) 361. Schwyzer and Debrunner (1950) 285-286. See Chantraine in GH II, 185. See Chantraine in GH II, 185-187. See Chantraine in GH II, 187. Martin (1997) 148-149.


29

or the like covertly indicates the attempt to achieve a temporal permanence, i.e. a visual icon reminding people in the future of a specific deceased. Along these lines, the use of devices highlighting generalizations (like the γνώμη) must be seen as an effort to make the duality described above collapse. The epitaphs, as forms of commemorative speech, aim at resurrecting for any future reader the memory of the deceased, just as the monument with its decoration, sculpted parts and artistic embellishment aims at becoming a visible sign, able of attracting the interest of a future passer-by. This can be easily seen in the placement of funerary monuments in elevated areas, so that they would be easily observed. From this perspective, I would like to suggest that inscribed epitaphs and epic storytelling share an interesting analogy. As in Greek epic, “the epic event and the speech-event of the performance become in a real sense a unity”,70 so the commemoration of one’s death, on the one hand, and the complex of the inscribed epitaph and monument, on the other, form a unity. Since every sort of utterance presupposes the existence of an audience, it is reasonable to say that all utterances employ mechanisms allowing them to engage the audience in the process of a response. If epitaphs, then, employ gnomic statements (among other means) to entice a passer-by’s curiosity, it can be argued that they also make full use of the maxim’s typological features in order to engage their readers more deeply. By engaging readers ‘more deeply’, I am referring to a degree of involvement during which they would recognize in the inscribed text an experience familiar to their own lives. As in the case of Homeric similes the audience would listen to a situation belonging to the realm of common experience (a scene drawn from nature e.g.), so the readers of an epitaph would easily familiarize themselves with the beliefs expressed by a γνώμη. Moreover, both Homeric similes and maxims reflect in their use of tenses their attempt to highlight the event of the performance. The use of the present or the gnomic aorist, which are characterized by lack of fixed temporality, results in making the reader of an epitaph recognize familiar experience and common cultural views. In this sense, the timeless tenses of the γνώμη render it much more relevant for all future readers, especially when they offer a reading to an epitaph beginning with the almost guaranteed silent approval of the collective awareness of the community. In CEG 487 (πάντων ἀνθρώπων νόμος ἐ|στὶ κοινὸς τὸ ἀποθανε̃ν. : |), the present tense (ἐστί) underscores the everlasting value of the maxim. At the same time, it triggers a series of present tenses con_____________ 70

Martin (1997) 148.

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cerning both the ‘impersonal’ statements about the grave, name and mother of the deceased (ἐνθάδε κεῖται Θεοίτης παῖς | Tελέσωνος Tεγεάτας Tεγε|άτο / καὶ μητρὸς Nικαρέτης | χρηστῆς γε γυναικός. …) and the transition to a present-oriented verbalization of the dead man’s voice from the grave (χαίρε|τε οἱ παριντες, ἐγὼ δέ γε τἀ|μὰ φυττω). The fact that the deceased addresses the passers-by in the present implicitly confirms the previous interpretation. The use of an ‘anthropological law’71 common to all exercizes its influence on the rest of the epitaph. The individuality and singularity of Theoites’ death is thus joined to a general, sempiternal truth. Under this scope, the timelessness of the present tense of the gnomic statement culminates in the repetition of the deceased’s words by a future reader. The staging of the speech-act, thus, acquires a performative force, since the dead Theoites will speak to a future passer-by, every time the latter will stop and read the inscription. It is exactly at that moment, at the ‘repeated’ present of the performance, that the generalizing force of the initial maxim will be strongly felt. It will, after all, have the same relevance for every passer-by. In CEG 489 (τὸς ἀγαθὸς ἔστερξεν Ἄρης, ἐφίλησε δ’ ἔπαινος, | / καὶ γήραι νεότης οὐ παρέδωχ’ ὑβρίσαι· | ...), the aorists employed (ἔστερξεν, ἐφίλησε, οὐ παρέδωχ᾽, ὑβρίσαι) do not situate these events in the past but refer to a repeated, ever-lasting situation, namely that war and praise bestow love and favor on the agathoi and do not let them grow old and decay. The gnomic aorists of this maxim exercize an enormous influence on the aorist used in the ensuing verses of the epitaph in reference to Glaukiades’ passing away. In order to conjure the event of Glaukiades’ death from the past and make it alive for a future reader, the composer has not spared finite gnomic aorist verbs in the first couplet. In this way, the single aorist of the second distich (ἦλθ᾽) designating the particular death of Glaukiades can be easily drawn to the generalizing comment that is strongly expressed by three finite gnomic aorists in the first distich. Glaukiades seems to be ‘re-entering’ the all-receiving chamber of Persephone at the very moment a future reader would read the inscription and look at the anaglyphon portraying a farewell family scene.

_____________ 71

See Meyer (2005) 90.


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Particles Particles are not often employed in our extant corpus of gnomic expressions, since a significant number of gnomic statements (7/16, i.e. 43.7% ca.) are expressed by a secondary εἰ-clause. This syntactical ‘presentation’ of the maxims virtually annuls the use of any other confirmatory (τοι) or explanatory (γάρ) or antithetical (δέ, ἀλλά) particle. There is only one epitaph (CEG 520), where γάρ is employed, and this is actually a case with a ‘tag’-phrase, explaining the preceding gnomic statement. The particle καί, used twice in the gnomic statements of our corpus of epitaphs, functions like a ‘linchpin’ binding the maxim with its tenor, the individual reference to the deceased.72 In CEG 595 and CEG 603, καί links the generalization inherent in the maxim with the particularity of the specific deceased who is being commemorated. By focusing our interpretive lens, we are in a position to appreciate better the subtle technique of this device. Kαί is used as a focalization mechanism, since it sheds light on the gnomically relevant qualities of the deceased and not on any other aspect of his life. The use of this particle in order to draw the deceased into the realm of the gnomic statement is noteworthy, among other reasons because it seems to be rivaling the function of other quantificatory devices. In fact, πᾶς/πάντα and the like are mutually exclusive with καί, the more so since the latter ‘represents’ the individuality of the particular deceased, to whom the aforementioned maxim is especially relevant. Apart from being a mechanism that attributes emphasis, καί reflects the effort of the composer to bridge the gap between the generalizing force of the maxim and the particular deceased commemorated in a private epitaph. Kαί is closely linked to the use of a first-person dative, which we may call ethical. In CEG 595, although the dative κἀμοί in κἀμοὶ τοῦτ’ ἀπένειμε Tύχη is basically the indirect object, it may still have an ethical color; likewise, in CEG 603 with καί σοι in the expression καί σοι τῆσδε μέρος δῶκε Tύχη φθιμένει. From a communicative point of view, these ethically colored datives constitute indirect praise to the deceased as well as being a consolation device. If dying is the common fate of all men, and if Tyche has bestowed some piety (εὐσεβίας / τῆσδε μέρος) on the deceased, then the pain at the event of death is alleviated or at least diminished. The consolatory aspect of the gnomic statement is here well at work, since the individuality of _____________ 72

Denniston (19542) 293 observes that responsive καί “marks an addition to the content of the preceding context.”

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private pain is embedded within the larger framework of the γνώμη and, therefore, put into perspective. Style The preference of parataxis over hypotaxis is a typical feature of the gnomic statement, resulting from the maxim’s brevity, straightforwardness and conciseness. The simpler and shorter a γνώμη, the easier it will be diffused. Conversely, it is surprising that seven out of the sixteen (i.e. 43.7% ca.) gnomic statements attested in the corpus of fourth-century Attic epitaphs are expressed by an εἰ-clause.73 The percentage is very high, since it means that almost in half of all epitaphs, the γνώμη takes the form of a conditional clause. The gnomic statement could very well have been expressed by a main clause instead of a conditional. These εἰ-clauses do not delineate an alleged “hypothetical situation” 74 in the form of paradeigmata but rather designate a framework within which the maxim is placed. They aim at guiding present and future readers in interpreting the content of the epitaph. As in the case of prophecies where εἰ-clauses are also deftly employed as the oracle foretells the future, subject to certain conditions, so in these gnomic statements the composer of the epitaph is “tipping his hand”,75 indicating where his thought is going. In this light, we can see that the anonymous authors of these epitaphs take a firm posture towards both the deceased and the readers of the inscription. They seem less inclined to express a maxim as an uncontestable truth than to shed light on “necessary or probable causal relationships.” 76 In other words, they seem to suspend the truth of the maxim, just in order to provoke the readers’ adsent, and thus to strengthen its force. By endorsing a manner of thought based on conditional probabilities, these gnomic statements stress “the measure of order and regularity of events.” 77 In this respect, they function like a foil capped in the apodosis by an asseverative injunction of praise for the deceased. In the manner of a Pindaric laudandus the dead person, then, emerges imbued with the positive qualities advertised by the maxims.78 The transitional function79 of the maxim leading the rea_____________ 73 74 75 76 77 78

On εἰ-clauses, see Friis Johansen (1959) 69-71. See Lardinois (1995) 66 with bibliography. Peradotto (1990) 67. See Devereux (1968) 452 ff. I owe this reference to Peradotto (1990) 67. Peradotto (1990) 67. See also Ehnmark (1935) 75. Bundy (1962) 55.


33

der’s attention forward to the epitaph’s nucleus is thus effectively enhanced by being expressed in the manner of a conditional probability. All εἰ-clauses of our corpus of maxims are expressed in the present indicative, a feature confirming that they refer to a ‘real’ situation. The εἰ-clause is, like the chain of negative expressions in the priamel, a foil for a particular point of interest to be made. But contrary to the priamel, where these negative statements are uttered only to be overthrown by the final, positive statement, in the case of the aforementioned εἰ-clauses the final statement reconfirms the validity of the preceding γνώμη and its application to a specific individual. By delineating a framework, such a ‘preparatory’ device situates the reader of the epitaph in respect of the beliefs and ideas against which the deceased will be measured. At the same time, we should draw a line between two broad types of gnomic foil, following the distinction Bundy has proposed in the case of maxims in Pindar and Bacchylides: the subjective and the objective.80 The former reveals the author’s stance towards his subject, while the latter results from the merits of the deceased who is treated like a laudandus in the epitaphs containing a gnomic statement. In our extant corpus of gnomic statements in fourth-century Attic epitaphs, there are three subjective maxims (CEG 487, 518, 520) and thirteen objective (CEG 489, 493, 525, 559, 571, 575, 577, 586, 593, 594, 595, 600, 603). The overwhelming majority of objective gnomic foils show clearly that the merits and qualities of the deceased stand at the center of the author’s attention. In conjunction with the placement of most of the gnomic statements in epitaph-initial position, it becomes evident that the merits of the dead person “substantiate the gnome and derive luster from it.” 81 On the other hand, ‘subjective’ filtering designates the reflection of the author’s point of view. The use of εἰ-clauses as a figure of speech is known from other funerary monuments from various places and periods. What is significant though is that only one of these monuments antedates the 4th century BCE.82 In other words, this form of expression virtually starts _____________ 79 80 81 82

Bundy (1962) 53. Bundy (1962) 28-29. Bundy (1962) 28. See CEG 95 (end of 5th century BCE): κεῖσαι πατρὶ γόον δούς, Φυρκία· | εἰ δέ τίς ἐστι | / τέρψις ἐν ἡλικίαι, τήνδε θανὼν | ἔλιπες. A check at Peek’s Register under εἰ-clauses (1960) 355 has given 14 examples of which five belong to fourth-century Attic funerary epigrams. Three of these five cases belong to maxims. To these three, two more must be added, one which was not known at the time of Peek’s edition and a second one with an εἰ-clause embedded in

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to be used in the 4th century BCE and, what is even more remarkable, almost all the examples of this early use come from Attica. It is therefore plausible to link this syntactical pattern to a certain Athenian practice occurring or finding its peak during the 4th century. Rhetorical practice seems a plausible hypothesis especially as the 4th century offers in the case of Attica a unique example, the Funeral Oration, that shares the thematic topoi of the funerary epigram.83 This might have been a good guess but one would be at pains to justify and explain why an examination of the entire corpus of funeral orations in fifth- and fourth-century Athens has not yielded any positive results. On the contrary, all the examples of conditional clauses attested there reproduce a famous topos exploited at length by this literary subgenre: the opposition between sacrificing one’s life but gaining a longlasting memory in the conscience of the community.84 This is, of _____________

83 84

a maxim that is not placed at the beginning of the epigram but at the beginning of the second elegiac couplet (Peek’s Register lists only Gedichtanfänge). See also Peek (1955) nos. 1686-1696. I am interested here in that form of εἰclause which Peek (1955) 505 labels ‘Wenn einer, dann dieser’, not in the ‘contrary to fact’ type (Peek 1955) 508-509, although what was said for the previous category is also valid for this one. The second category is excluded from our study because there is no example of this kind in our corpus of gnomic expressions. For a full list of εἰ-clauses in Greek funerary epigrams at large, see Citti, Degani, Giangrande, and Scarpa (1995) 104 s.v. εἰ. The similarities and differences between the well-known πολυάνδρια and the ἐπιτάφιοι λόγοι are nicely presented by Loraux (1981) 54-56. Here is the full list of conditional clauses in fourth-century funeral orations: Hypereides, Funeral Oration (6) 28: εἰ γὰρ [ὁ τοῖ]ς ἄλλοι[ς̣] ὢν ἀνιαρ[ότ]α̣τ ος θάνατος τούτοις ἀρχηγὸς μ̣εγάλων ἀγαθῶν γέγονε, πῶς τούτους οκ εὐτυχεῖς κρίνειν δ̣ίκαιον, ἢ πῶς ἐκλελοιπέναι τὸν βίον, ἀλλ̣᾽ οὐκ ἐξ ἀρχῆς γεγονέναι καλλίω γένεσιν τῆς πρώτης ὑπαρξάσης; (34): εἰ μὲν γὰρ ἡδονῆς ἕν[εκεν μνημονεύουσιν τὰς τ̣οιαύτας καρτερίας, τί γέ[νοιτ᾽ ἂν τοῖς Ἕλλησιν ἥδ[ιον ἢ ἔπαινος τῶν τὴν ἐλευθερί̣[αν παρασκευασάντων ἀ[π̣ὸ τῶν Μακεδόνων; εἰ δὲ [ὠφελείας ἕνεκεν ἡ τοια[ύτη μνήμη γίγνεται, τίς ἂν λόγος ὠφελήσειεν μᾶλλον τὰς τῶν ἀκουόντων ψυχὰς τοῦ τὴν ἀρετὴν ἐγκωμιάζοντος καὶ τοὺς ἀγαθοὺς ἄνδρας; (42): εἰ γὰρ θρήνων ἄξια πεπόνθασιν, ἀλλ᾽ ἐπαίνων μεγάλων πεποιήκασιν. εἰ δὲ γήρως θνητοῦ μὴ μετέσχον, ἀλλ᾽ εὐδοξίαν ἀγήρατον εἰλήφασιν εὐδαίμονές τε γεγόνασι κατὰ πάντα. / Lysias, Funeral Oration (2) 78: εἰ μὲν γὰρ οἷόν τε ἦν τοῖς τοὺς ἐν τῷ πολέμῳ κινδύνους διαφυγοῦσιν ἀθανάτους εἶναι τὸν λοιπὸν χρόνον, ἄξιον ἦν τοῖς ζῶσι τὸν ἅπαντα χρόνον πενθεῖν τοὺς τεθνεῶτας. / Pl. Menex. 248b-c: εἴ τις ἔστι τοῖς τετελευτηκόσιν αἴσθησις τῶν ζώντων, οὕτως ἀχάριστοι εἶεν ἂν μάλιστα, …/ Demosthenes, Funeral Oration (60) 12: εἰ γὰρ ἁπάντων ἀμηχανώτατος ἦν ὅ τι χρὴ λέγειν πορίσασθαι, ἡ ᾽κείνων ἀρετὴ δείκνυσιν αὐτὴ … (19-20): εἰ δὲ θνητὸς ὢν τὴν εἱμαρμένην ἔσχεν, τῇ τύχῃ πέπονθε τὸ συμβαῖνον, οὐχὶ τὴν ψυχὴν ἥττηται τῶν ἐναντίων. See also Isocr. Evagoras (9) 2: ἡγησάμην Eὐαγόραν, εἴ τίς ἐστιν αἴσθησις τοῖς τετελευτηκόσι περὶ τῶν ἐνθάδε γιγνομένων, εὐμενῶς μὲν ἀποδέχεσθαι


35

course, a completely different use of the conditionals from the one attested in the gnomic statements included in fourth-century Attic grave epigrams. Euripidean influence is a more probable scenario. Conditional probabilities reflecting skepticism about the world beyond and the existence of the gods are common in Euripidean tragedy (Hcld. 592-595; Her. 490-491; IA 1034-1035). Given the preeminence of Euripidean drama in both the 4th century and the Hellenistic period, it is highly likely that εἰ-clauses become common in fourth-century Attic epitaphs under the lasting influence of Euripides.85 A closer examination of the manner in which these εἰ-maxims are embedded in the dictional framework of fourth-century Attic grave epigrams may produce more promising results. Contrary to previous literary practice,86 second-person address occurs in 5 out of 7 εἰclauses, whereas first- and third-person addresses are attested only once in each case. I have previously suggested that the use of the centrifugal ablative form of displacement (with the reader as notional origo addressing the deceased) culminates in the reader addressing directly the deceased. In this conversational context, where proper-name vocatives introduce a personal tone and reveal the emotional involvement of the reader, the deceased is always addressed by his name in the vocative. Under this scope, it becomes increasingly plausible that εἰ-clauses are anchored to the specific communicational plan of these epitaphs. Grave epigrams stand on the verge between the public (since they are displayed in open space) and the private (most of the epitaphs of our corpus refer to individuals) but also between the literal and the oral. In particular, the use of gnomic expressions does not really make great sense, unless we assume the existence of an audience reading/hearing them. If this is the case, then the use of the εἰ-clause may have a special effect for the reader of the inscription in the sense that consolatory gnomic statements are presented as a possibility, whose ratification the reader is silently asked to confirm. In other words, the audience is first invited to go through a process of considering the value of the maxim, ascertain that its content is true, and then express itself the feeling of consolation by ‘tying’ this γνώμη to the particular deceased commemorated in the _____________ 85 86

καὶ ταῦτα καὶ χαίρειν ὁρῶντα τήν τε περὶ αὑτὸν ἐπιμέλειαν καὶ τὴν σὴν μεγαλοπρέπειαν… On Euripidean influence regarding εἰ-clauses in epigrammatic poetry, see Zumin (1975) 364-366. See the introductory survey concerning the use of gnomic statements in various genres preceding the 4th century BCE.

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grave epigram. Let us now examine some particular examples, in order to make this point clear: CEG 559 εἴ τι δικαιοσύ[ν]ης ἆθλον τίθεται κατὰ γαίας, | Εὔφανες, οὐ χαλεπὸν τοῦδέ σε πρῶτα λαβε̃ν. CEG 571 … εἴπερ χρηστοῖς γέρας ἐ̣στίν, πρώτει σοι τι̣[μα]|ί, τίτθη, παρὰ Φερσεφόνει Πλούτωνί τε κεῖνται.

A passer-by standing in front of the grave monument reads the epitaph (CEG 559): “if some prize of justice is placed down into the earth, [then] Euphanes, it was not difficult for you to receive it first.” When readers utter the εἰ-clause, they undergo a process of evaluating its content. This process is made even more emphatic because of the second person used in the tenor following the γνώμη. By addressing the deceased in the second person and using the vocative of his name, the reader performs a centrifugal ablative form of displacement, i.e. he constructs a staging of the event of reading, which becomes a speech-act with the reader becoming the speaker and the deceased the addressee. Under these parameters, the speaker (reader) positively evaluates the εἰ-clause and only then expresses his praise to the deceased. The stress he/she lays on the dead man’s praise (οὐ χαλεπόν, πρῶτα) must be interpreted in the light of his previous positive evaluation of the content of the εἰ-clause. The same is the case in CEG 571: while uttering the εἰ-clause, the reader thinks whether ‘there is indeed a γέρας for the χρηστοί’ and, since he/she gives a positive answer, he/she then is able to do what the epitaph states, i.e. to confirm that the highest honors be awarded to the deceased in the realm of Persephone and Pluto. Once more, the use of the second person address to the deceased is particularly effective. In this epitaph, we have reasons to believe that the reader is asked to assume the position of Hippostrate, the young girl who dedicates this grave epigram to her deceased nurse, Melitta. Given that this female reader, like any human, does not know whether there is a γέρας for the χρηστοί in the Underworld, it becomes all the more important that she does not hesitate to grant Melitta the highest honors in that world, in her effort to console herself for the loss of her beloved nurse. Since Melitta is honored in the chamber of Persephone, then the grief for her death is significantly soothened. The εἰ-clause used as a vehicle for maxims in these grave epigrams may be relevant to Aristotle’s view that maxims can be “the final part


37

of the logical structure called the enthymeme.” 87 This view is probably connected to the argumentative force of the γνώμη, which makes its placement at the point of completion of a logical sequence particularly fitting, so that any audience or interlocutor can make full use of its persuasive force. Consisting of considerations that seek to persuade, the gnomic statement presupposes a process of testing by the listener, who would assess, evaluate, and endorse the maxim’s content. In fact, the extension and evolution of this part of the gnomic statement into a eulogy must be seen as a by-product of the approval of the maxim’s content. Wisdom-speech genres have been rightly recognized as performative.88 Performance has in this context the meaning of “an optional and impromptu creative response to an important social and psychological situation”,89 and may be seen as emergent. This socio-linguistic and folkloristic approach lays special emphasis on audience evaluation, verbal scrutiny and stylistic criticism of wisdom-speech.90 Successful evaluation of the gnomic statement (and subsequently the epitaph it belongs to) would entail a successful performance, for whose attainment the composer of the epitaph has offered to his reader specific staging guidelines, as I have argued above. Examined against this background, εἰ-clauses constitute a stylistically elaborate mechanism inviting readers to engage themselves in the process of evaluating and assessing the content of communal beliefs and norms inherent in maxims. In this way, the audience is expected to effectively endorse the recognized conventions inherent in the γνῶμαι and, by extension, the epitaph’s commemoration of a particular deceased.

Contextualizing the γνώμη Contrary to the standardized taxonomy of gnomological collections, maxims are contextually determined. Lemmatization and lexical meaning are often misleading principles for interpreting wisdom expressions since they form part of oral discourse and are, consequently, bound by rules pertaining to speech at large. This does not contradict the principles upon which the various γνωμολόγια are based, but rather delineates the limits of taxonomical collections of _____________ 87 88 89 90

I owe this observation to Russo (1997) 56. See Ar. Rhet. 1394a27-28. Russo (1997) 51. Russo (1997) 51. See Martin (1993) 115-119.

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γνῶμαι. What proverb and maxim collections highlight when they offer an interpretation of a wisdom expression is its base meaning. The base meaning must be then socially situated in order to acquire its performance meaning “which may be defined as that which emerges from the integration of proverbial (base meaning) and situational meaning (participant evaluation of situation plus interactional strategy).” 91 Contextualizing a maxim by embedding it in a grave epigram is a process much more complicated than it seems at first sight. Contextualization refers to creating a shared context, common to both ends of the communicative spectrum, depending “not on the assertion of facts or the expression of beliefs, but rather on interpersonal involvement.” 92 Gnomic statements belong to wisdom literature that is orally diffused and known to all members of a cultural community. 93 By forming integral part of a people’s shared cultural heritage maxims transcend boundaries and defy social segregation or political compartmentalization. At the same time, the generalizing character inherent in a gnomic expression has to be linked to the particularities imposed by the grave epigram’s specific commemoration. In order to study the contextualization of the gnomic statements of our corpus, we may consider certain social and cultural parameters in relation to the basic topoi employed by this form of consolatory gnomic statement. The Community of Death A recurrent topos is that suffering and death are common to all humans. Both CEG 487 (πάντων ἀνθρώπων νόμος ἐ|στὶ κοινὸς τὸ ἀποθανε̃ν) and CEG 518 (πᾶσι θανεῖν ἵμαρτα ὅσοι ζῶσιν) begin by using the same gnomic statement. The interpretation of this maxim by future readers is not context-free. On the contrary, it is determined by the way the audience of future readers will decode and comprehend certain parameters. In this case, the composers of the epitaphs themselves, in order to avoid or at least limit aberrant decoding, i.e. comprehension and subsequent interpretation by means of a different code from that used for encoding, offer their potential readers a con_____________ 91 92 93

Kirshenblatt-Gimblett (1973) 826. Depew (2000) 61-62. See Tzifopoulos’ remarks (1995) 169-177, (2000) 151-152 on the oral nature of proverbs and maxims.


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textually-dependent ‘reading guide’. After placing the gnome at epigram-initial position, the anonymous authors grant their readers valuable information pertaining to the oikos. In an almost similar manner, the composers give details concerning the deceased’s forefathers, mother, father, and wife. It becomes, then, clear that the reader is invited to use the initial maxim as a consolation device that is oriented towards the family of the deceased. The text of the epitaph, therefore, becomes a ‘reading-guide’ suggesting a social context within which the audience is expected to place and interpret the consolatory gnomic statement. Honoring the Deceased in the Underworld Death leads to the honoring of the deceased in the Underworld. In both CEG 571 and CEG 603 it is stated that the deceased will be either honored or receive recognition for being pious during her lifetime. 94 This is a stark form of consolation, since the excellence of the dead person is recognized even in a place beyond this very world. By endorsing such a viewpoint, the authors of these epitaphs aim at culturally contextualizing their audience. The reference to Persephone and not to Hades lies at the very heart of this process. Persephone, whose cult must have been very strong during the 4th century, has virtually replaced Hades in Attic epitaphs dating from the same period. By finding recourse to her, the composers of the epigrams ‘ask’ future readers to trace in the gnomic statement the same force of consolation the cult of Persephone (Demeter and Kore) was known to be replete with. In cases like this, it is easy to fall into the trap of over-interpretation. On the other hand, the audience’s reception of the aforementioned topos expressed by the maxim must be placed within the cultural context it belongs. To this extent, the cultural context triggered by the use of a specific gnomic statement is concomitant with the ʻreception aetheticʼ (Rezeptionsaesthetik) the author desires his audience to adopt. Controlling or directing the reception of the gnome95 turns out to be as significant as staging its performance.

_____________ 94 95

See also Dem. Funeral Oration (60) 34. On the Rezeptionssteuerung (the controlling of the reception) of gnomic statements, see Stenger (2004) 14, 20, 54, 263.

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Honoring the Dead The deceased has been praised in the world of the living. CEG 600 begins with an extended gnomic statement occupying the first three verses of the epitaph. (i) Μνησαρχίδης | Μνησάρχου | Ἁλαιεύς. (ii) εἰ τὰ θεῶν τιμᾶν̲ χ̲ρ̲ηστῶν τ’ ἔργων ἐπιθυμεῖν | καὶ τὸ δικαιόσυν[όν τε φίλο]ν τε φίλοισι προσεῖναι | δόξα ἀρετή τε βροτοῖς καὶ ἀνενκλήτως βιοτεῦσαι, | 4 πάντα σὺ ταῦτʼ ἔσχες, Μ̲νησαρ̲χίδη̣, ἀπροφ̲ασίστως̲. (iii) Μνήσιππος | Χαριταίου | Ἁλαιεύς. | Μνησ[αρχίδ]η̣[ς | ØØ | Ἁλαιεύς]. (i) Mnesarchides, son of Mnesarchos from Halai. (ii) If honoring the gods and desiring noble deeds and being just and dear to your friends and living a life free of indictment [is] glorious and good for mortals, you Mnesarchides have had all these things without disguise (= unhesitantly). (iii) Mnesippos, son of Charitaios from Halai. Mnesarchides […] from Halai.

The γνώμη has the form of a list of positive qualities in a man’s life: honoring the gods, desiring noble deeds, attaching justice and friendship to dear ones, living without blemish or accusation. The author attempts to define an aretalogy, which is presented as having a general force offering mortals (βροτοῖς) δόξα ἀρετή τε. He then links the socially and culturally constructed framework he has previously delineated to the particular deceased (Μνησαρχίδης) to whom the στήλη has been dedicated. In this case, he uses a twofold mechanism: a quantificatory device to the aretai (πάντα) he has mentioned in the three verses above and a deictic marker (σύ) to the direct addressee of the epitaph, Mnesarchides himself. Both of these markers function as connective devices with a double-binding role: they socially and culturally determine the nexus within which the gnomic statement expressed in the first three verses must be placed, and they subsequently draw it to the hic et nunc of the commemoration of the death of Mnesarchides. The consolation process takes here the form of an encomiastic confirmation referring not only to the range (πάντα) of the deceased’s aretai but also to the manner he had attained them. By insisting on both the quid and the quo modo of Mnesarchides’ praise, the epitaph creates for its audience a framework of social and cultural norms needed for its interpretation. In this way, the grave inscription for a single man is turned into a eulogy for all the ἀγαθοί, who can place themselves within the framework delineated by the inscription.


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Chains with Nested Maxims CEG 593 begins with a gnomic statement, which virtually annuls a topos of the Funeral Oration, i.e. the speaker’s inability to match the ἀρετή of the war dead with suitable words. In this epitaph, it is stated that the praise for the ἄνδρες ἀγαθοί is easily and abundantly available. Such a statement would have taken fourth-century Athenian readers by surprise, the more so since it may have seemed to them as a covert hint that the deceased had performed usual deeds and so it would be easy for a speaker to praise them.96 In order to avoid such annoying misunderstandings and ‘protect’ his audience of misinterpretations, the composer of the epitaph has accumulated two more maxims, aiming at helping future readers contextualize the initial γνώμη in the way he wanted them to do so. The first of the two ensuing maxims refers to the fact that the deceased Dionysios had the same fate with all other men who flock to the chamber of Persephone after their death, whereas the second one (third overall) draws a typical dichotomy between the mortality of the body and the immortality of the soul.97 Both of these generalized statements are clearly consolatory, since the former refers to the inescapability of death and the latter to the undying nature of a part of human existence. At the same time, they both create a particular cultural frame to which the first γνώμη must be anchored. After reading the two ensuing maxims, the potential reader is unlikely to misunderstand the first γνώμη. Dionysios belongs to the community of ἄνδρες ἀγαθοί, who will collectively receive abundant praise just as death and the immortality of the soul apply to all men collectively. By laying emphasis on Dionysios as a member of the community of ἀγαθοί, the author of the epitaph creates a specific cultural context for the interpretation of the initial maxim by his readers. The aforementioned case shows that gnomic statements were sometimes used within a complex setting. In this respect, the initial maxim is nested, since it is embedded within a larger foil exercizing its _____________ 96

97

See Fantuzzi (2008), who rightly observes that the initial distich functions as a kind of ‘introduction’ to the series of eulogies that follow. In this conception, the insertion of an extra metrum line with the name of the deceased and his father’s name between the two metrical parts of the epitaph and, in particular, between the maxims occupying the second and third distichs of the grave epigram becomes very important. It allows the reader to realize that the two gnomic statements flanking the extra metrum line are thematically related, since they both express consolation. See Pind. Olymp. 2.61-70, frs. 129, 130, 131; Hyper. Funeral Oration (6) 43.

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own interpretive ‘pressure’ on the contextualization of this γνώμη. Nested maxims are not frequent either in our corpus or in inscribed epigrams in general, because the epigram’s brevity did not allow gnomic statements to be enclosed within other gnomic statements but had to be immediately linked to the thematic nucleus of the inscription. Under this perspective, CEG 593 is a truly remarkable case, the more so since its extended (for both inscriptional and noninscriptional standards) length has allowed its composer to introduce, proem-like, a series of gnomic statements within which the initial, capital γνώμη is embedded.98 In this light, the interpretation of the initial γνώμη heavily depends on its being nested together with two more maxims. It is within this new context that the readers of the epitaph must explore the full meaning and function of the abundant praise bestowed on the ἄνδρες ἀγαθοί. The sequence of two maxims that inaugurate CEG 593 may also be studied in the light of sequences of other inscribed epigrams, which, despite their lack of gnomic statements, may help explore the idea of nesting more fully. Recently, Petrovic has drawn our attention on the three inscribed epitaphs about the battle of Thermopylae, which are all found in Herodotus’ Histories (7.228):99 …ἐπιγέγραπται γράμματα λέγοντα τάδε˙ μυριάσιν ποτὲ τῇδε τριηκοσίαις ἐμάχοντο ἐκ Πελοποννάσου χιλιάδες τέτορες. ταῦτα μὲν δὴ τοῖσι πᾶσι ἐπιγέγραπται, τοῖσι δὲ Σπαρτιήτῃσι ἰδίῃ˙ …ὦ ξεῖν᾽ ἀγγέλλειν Λακεδαιμονίοις ὅτι τῇδε κείμεθα τοῖς κείνων ῥήμασι πειθόμενοι. Λακεδαιμονίοισι μὲν δὴ τοῦτο, τῷ δὲ μάντι τόδε˙ μνῆμα τόδε κλενοῖο Μεγιστία, ὅν ποτε Μῆδοι Σπερχειὸν ποταμὸν κτεῖναν ἀμειψάμενοι, μάντιος, ὃς τότε Κῆρας ἐπερχομένας σάφα εἰδὼς οὐκ ἔτλη Σπάρτης ἡγεμόνας προλιπεῖν. …the words inscribed saying the following: “Once upon a time three million fought on this place against four thousand from Peloponnesus.” This was written actually for all of them, but for the Spartans was separately inscribed: “Stranger, tell the Lacedaimonians that here

_____________ 98

99

Interestingly enough, the deceased is addressed for the first time in the second couplet, i.e. after the initial gnomic statement occupying the epitaph’s first distich. See Petrovic (2007a) 56-57.


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we lie, obedient to their orders.” That for the Lacedaemonians and for their prophet as follows: “This is the gravestone (mnema) of the famed Megistias whom the Medes once killed after they passed over the river Spercheios— of the seer, who at that point knew very well that doom was about to fall, but could not find it in his heart to desert the Spartan leaders.”100

Petrovic rightly argues that this ʻmini-collectionʼ anticipates the practice of the Hellenistic age on the one hand, but diverges from the heavier interpreted burden put on the shoulders of a reader of a Hellenistic anthology. Since the context is given (Herodotus has just finished his long narrative on the battle of Thermopylae), he expects from his readers not to get involved in the game of supplementation (Ergänzungsspiel), but to rather engage themselves in evaluating the preceding narrative in comparison to the content of these three epitaphs. In this light, as Petrovic maintains, readers would no doubt have noticed the discrepancy between the actual Greek forces participating in the battle and those mentioned in the epitaphs. The complete absence of the Seven Hundred Thespians who, like the Three Hundred Spartans, never retreated from the battlefield, and the fact that the only person referred to by his name (the seer Megistias) was not from Peloponnesus (cf. the first of the three epitaphs that mentions only Peloponnesians) must have made any careful reader of Herodotus’ text “think of other Greeks who fought at Thermopylae and remained without mention.” 101 In a similar manner and despite the lack of any preceding narrative, the incipient sequence of gnomic statements aims at engaging the readers into an evaluating process. The composer of this epitaph may well have attempted to make his readers ʻcompareʼ the content of these maxims with what was already familiar to them from the practice of Funeral Oration, namely the well-known topos of the discrepancy between the erga of the deceased and the logos of the orator. Moreover, this series of gnomic statements displays the same principle of progressive individualization that is also observed in Herodotus’ aforementioned ʻmini-collectionʼ, where the first epigram commemorates all the Peloponnesians, the second the Spartans, and the third a single person (the seer Megistias from Acarnania). Likewise, the first gnomic statement occupying the epitaph’s initial elegiac couplet refers to all the ἄνδρες ἀγαθοί, whereas the second and third _____________ 100 101

The translation is that of Petrovic (2007a) 56-57. Petrovic (2007a) 57.

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maxims (placed at the second and third couplet respectively) are focused on the deceased Dionysios. In Herodotus, this progressive individualization is indicated by specific textual markers interspersed between the second and third epitaph (ταῦτα μὲν δὲ τοῖσι ἐπιγέγραπται, τοῖσι δὲ Σπαρτιήτῃσι ἰδίῃ and Λακεδαιμονίοισι μὲν δὴ τοῦτο, τῷ δὲ μάντι τόδε), whereas in CEG 593, it is effectuated by the repetition of the address to the deceased Dionysios in the second and third couplet.

Orational Maxims and the Vocality of the Performance102 “L’écrit est présent, le scripteur est absent.” 103 Svenbro’s phrasing is suitable to the very nature of reading aloud in Ancient Greece.104 In the case of inscriptions the scriptio continua and the prevalence of an oral-based culture had turned reading into a process of recognition (ἀνά-γνωσις).105 In particular, the vocality of the performance of a given text had become a prerequisite for its comprehension.106 Day has rightly emphasized the fact that “epigrams build the evidence of performance into their grammar: from the ubiquitous Ich-Rede of older dedications (“So-and-so dedicated me”) to the complex deictics of Ambracia (“these men…I…o citizens”),107 they are phrased as moves in speech situations.” 108 _____________ 102

103 104

105 106 107 108

I have borrowed the term orational from Robb (1983) 153. For Indo-European examples, see Martin (1984) 29-48. Martin (30) rightly argues that dictional similarities among passages in two different texts can be due to their sharing “a common genre, which generates the use of similar phrases in each place.” It is the orational character of proverbial expressions and gnomic sayings as forms of social speech and not their derivation from a common source that is responsible for common dictional patterns found in verbal manifestations of wisdom literature. Modern paroemiology has also emphasized the social aspect of proverbial expressions. See Seitel (1969) 143-161. Svenbro (1988) 53. Bing (2002) 44 has argued that “while readers may have been receptive to certain kinds of inscription as a result of cultural conditioning or personal inclination, it appears that they reacted to the great mass of such texts differently, or better: indifferently.” I side with Svenbro (1988) 56, Day (1989) 2628, Day (1994), Depew (1997) 239, 245, Day (2000), who have argued in favor of the ancient practice of reading aloud inscribed epigrams. See also Scodel (1992) 66; Kurke (1993) 146. See Labarbe (1968) 354. See Nagy (1983) 35-55. See Day’s analysis (2007) 30-31 of SEG 41.540A. Day (2007) 32.


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Like most wisdom-speech genres, the γνώμη contains certain oral features pertaining to its performative staging by speakers in real-time communicative situations.109 In Homeric epic, one of the basic features of gnomic statements is the generalizing τε. It has the force of something like “as it is known, as usual, as it is natural” and its role consists in indicating the way the gnomic statement is linked both to its immediate performance-based context as well as to its generalizing character.110 Given that the generalizing τε is absent from the corpus of γνῶμαι found in fourth-century Attic funerary epigrams, the γνώμη must be connected to its performance-based context by alternative dictional means. Within the extant corpus of gnomic expressions found in fourthcentury Attic funerary epigrams generalizing strategies are often carried out by quantificatory terms. Πᾶσι in CEG 518 aims at reminding future readers that they will also die at some point in the future, since this will be their own fate. Thus, if the epitaph was read aloud, then readers would at once recontextualize it, they would even see something of their own life reflected in it. This sophisticated strategy of ‘gaining a readership’, of attracting the attention of future passers-by would effectively explain the recurrent placement of the γνῶμαι in epitaph-initial position, since in this way the passer-by’s attention would have been more easily drawn. In CEG 520, where a maxim caps the initial address to the deceased’s friends, the singularity of the composition is effectively bridged with the eternity of the performance. In this conception, the use of the first-person plural might have been especially effective, the more so since it would have facilitated the ‘fictive’ approach between the deceased-internal speaker and the passer-by-reader of the epitaph.111 Deictic or anaphoric devices, ex_____________ 109

110 111

Both the proverb and the maxim constitute oral genres and are treated as such by modern paroemiologists. See Jason (1971) 619; Abrahams and Babcock (1977) 415; Norrick (1985) 12; Mieder (1993) 3-17. Lardinois (1995) 48 citing Ruijgh (1971) 2-3. See also Lardinois (1995) 49 n. 27; Denniston (19542): 520-536. On χαῖρε and χαίρετε, see Sourvinou-Inwood (1995a) 200-210. SourvinouInwood (205) explains the use of χαῖρε in CEG 522 and 655 by arguing that, although there is no indication whatsoever that the dead person may have belonged to some sect promising immortality in the form of heroization or deification, a fourth-century reader may have interpreted it as such. I would like to argue that the use of χαῖρε and χαίρετε within this context might well be an indication of the orality of these epitaphs. In other words, it would be quite effective if there were a reader, who would have uttered aloud the word χαῖρε/χαίρετε, covertly ascertaining that the dead person was somehow alive.

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pressed by personal and relative pronouns respectively, may be also seen as oral features pertaining to the vocality of the performance. The lack of personal pronouns used as deictic devices within the framework of the maxim depends on the fact that the γνῶμαι have a generalizing character independent of the present circumstances of the performance. On the contrary, the tenor referring to the particular event of the performance contains deictic or anaphoric devices bridging the distance between the temporal neutrality and spatial distality of the γνώμη and the proximity of the real-world situation. Consequently, re-performing the epigram (read aloud by any passer-by), thus re-contextualizing it in place and time, which means entextualizing it in the hic et nunc of the reader’s world, needed such deictic and anaphoric markers that would make this association possible. What is essential here is the effort of the author of the epigram not so much to make the γνώμη fit the textual exigencies of the epitaph as to render the maxim effective for any future audience that would read it. The anonymous composer had to encapsulate the gnomic expression in such a way that future readers would be able when reading it aloud to perceive it as a framework within which they could situate the lament for the deceased, the subsequent encomium and its relevance to themselves. Some examples may illustrate this point more clearly. A deictic device based on personal pronouns is used in CEG 603, where καὶ σοί implies that the gnomic statement εἰ δέ τις εὐσεβίας παρὰ Φερσεφόνει χάρις ἐστίν in verse 3 of the epigram refers to a general audience. The author of the epitaph first indirectly addresses, through the use of a maxim, the human community at large and then addresses an internal audience by making a separate reference to the deceased (καὶ σοὶ τῆσδε μέρος δῶκε Τύχη φθιμένει). Moreover, it is clear that the departed, Νικοπτολέμη, has left an immortal memory (μνήμην ἀθάνατον) of her ἀρετή to her husband, whereas she herself has received, even in the house of Persephone, from Τύχη some recognition for her respect (εὐσεβίας χάρις). Since χάρις designates in the case of ἀγάλματα “a reciprocal relation of pleasure and recognition between god and human dedicant…”,112 one could plausibly argue that this is also the case, mutatis mutandis, with grave epigrams. The deceased Νικοπτολέμη will give eternal ἀρετή to her husband while her love and respect for him (that is probably the meaning of εὐσέβια [sic] in this context) will be recognized in the Underworld. Thus, the deictic καὶ σοί displays and enacts the praise offered to the deceased. _____________ 112

Depew (2000) 60.


47

The same is the case with CEG 595. The epitaph begins with a gnomic statement (εἰ τὸ καλῶς ἔστι θανεῖν) which adheres to the hic et nunc through the use of the deictic marker κἀμοί. Thus the generalizing statement of the maxim is attached to the personal fate of the deceased and since what the γνώμη expresses is a positive attitude towards death (in fact a καλὸς θάνατος), then the epigram (which is initiated by this device) becomes an encomium of the dead person.113 Tying the gnomic statement to the tenor may be also realized through an anaphoric device, which is expressed by a relative pronoun. The relative clause introduced by this pronoun modifies a term mentioned in the preceding gnomic expression. CEG 586 is a good example of this technique. By pointing to δικαιοσύνην in the preceding verse, the relative pronoun ἧς functions as a stepping-stone qualifying a part of the γνώμη and facilitating the transition to the central part of the epigram that is relevant to the specifics of the deceased’s commemoration. By doing so, the γνώμη is adjusted to its new context and the transition from the initially expressed generalizing tone of the maxim to the particular tone of the tenor is smoothly accomplished. The gnomic statement sets an ideological framework within which the encomium of the deceased has to be placed. The performative aspect of this technique is easily felt: the maxim becomes a stage direction to the reader who is asked to situate Daiokrates’ life within the realm of justice and, through him, to appreciate this true possession preserved for the selected few (παύροισιν). Likewise, as Daiokrates belongs to the few who have shared this ‘true possession of justice’, so the reader may also belong to the few who have grasped the true meaning of this εὐξύνετος Μοῖρα. In CEG 489, the relative pronoun ὧγ effects the placement of the deceased Γλαυκιάδης within the group of ἀγαθοί who are cherished by both Ares and praise and have died young, immune from old age. The maxim designates the terms to be used by the reader for interpreting the importance of the sacrifice of Γλαυκιάδης for his fatherland. At the same time, the syntactical transition from gnomic statement to tenor entails a noteworthy performative effect, since the reader is ‘asked’ to identify himself with Γλαυκιάδης and realize that although everyone is accepted in Persephone’s chamber (πάνδεκτον _____________ 113

In similar cases, the personal pronouns are employed as complementary devices that respond, so to speak, to the generalizing comment of the maxim that is often expressed by some form of the word πᾶς. CEG 518 (πᾶσι θανεῖν ἵμαρτα ὅσοι ζῶσιν, σὺ δὲ πένθος) is another typical example of this principle.

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Φερσεφόνης θάλαμον), nevertheless the encomium for the deceased is preserved only for the ἀγαθοί. Deictic and anaphoric devices are, therefore not simply used to link the maxim with the tenor of the epigram and effect a smooth transition, but to make a gesture towards the reader of the epitaph.114 By having an oral wisdom-speech sub-genre such as the γνώμη carry over to the genre of epigram its oral tone, it would be possible for the latter to ‘speak’ and represent every member of the community through the staging of a familiar and approved concept linked to an individual commemoration.

Expanded Maxims Only three of the γνῶμαι of our corpus are extended to two or three verses. It has been argued that this is also the case with other wisdom expressions like the paradeigmatic tale.115 In the case of Homeric maxims, Lardinois has convincingly shown that amplificatio plays an important role in strengthening an argument and is a typical tendency of the form of argumentation Homeric heroes employ.116 This is also the case with the maxims attested in our corpus. At the same time, the ability of the epigram’s author to elaborate and extend his thought speaks for the oral nature of wisdom expressions which are widely diffused and, consequently, familiar to the members of the community. The orality of the γνῶμαι becomes evident through the author’s freedom to alter and modify a maxim or create a new form as he tries to adapt it to the restrictions imposed by genre considerations pertaining to the epigram. The most striking example of this fact is IG II2 5501 = CEG 600 beginning with a maxim that extends to three verses and occupies the largest part of the grave epigram. There are, however, certain features which are clear traces of the orality characterizing this γνώμη: 1) the additive, paratactic style with the copulative conjunctions τε and καί and 2) the dictional idiosyncrasy observed in the hapax δικαιόσυν[ον.117 _____________ 114 115 116 117

On an equivalent argument in the field of Pindaric poetics, see Felson (2004) 388. See Lardinois (1995) 50, ft. 42. See Martin (1989) 206-230. See CEG 600, comment on verse 3 and West (1978) 245 ad v. 353. The metrical irregularity of the first foot of the dactylic hexameter in verse 3 having four syllables (δόξα ἀρε-) is of course an example of scriptio plena. See Threatte


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Opposition Antithetical constructions are often found in gnomic statements of our corpus: 1. The ‘hyperbolic style’ expressed by the ‘many-few’ polarization used in 586 CEG [π]ολλ[ο]ῖς ἀνηὸν δαίμων βίον ὤπασε προῖκ[α], | / παύροισιν δὲ ἔτυμογ κτῆμα δικαιοσύνην and the πᾶς, πᾶσα, πᾶν device (IG II2 10435 = CEG 487: πάντων ἀνθρώπων νόμος ἐ|στὶ κοινὸς τὸ ἀποθανε̃ν. :| / CEG 518: πᾶσι θανεῖν ἵμαρτα ὅσοι ζῶσιν / IG II2 11974= CEG 577: [π]άντων ὧν θέμις ἐστὶ τυχεῖν εὐδαίμοσι θνητοῖς ´ | / IG II2 5501 = CEG 600: πάντα σὺ ταῦτ’ ἔσχες, Mνησαρχίδ`η̣, ἀπροφασίστως ). 2. The ‘positive-negative’ structure in IG II2 10998 = CEG 489 (τὸς ἀγαθὸς ἔστερξεν Ἄρης, ἐφίλησε δ’ ἔπαινος, | / καὶ γήραι νεότης οὐ παρέδωχ’ ὑβρίσαι) and IG II2 11169 = CEG 593 (ὀθεὶς μόχθος ἔπαινον ἐπ’ ἀνδράσι τοῖς ἀγαθοῖσιν | ζητεῖν, ηὕρηται δὲ ἄφθονος εὐλογία). Antithetical thought is a typical characteristic of lament speech in general and has a long tradition in Greek culture from Homer down to modern times.118 It is expressed by both dictional (like those described above) and thematic elements (life and death, past and present etc.). This binary tendency is also at work in epigrammatic poetry and, especially, in funerary inscriptions of the 5th and 4th centuries.119 Antithetical expressions are also typical in wisdom literature at large, especially in proverbs120 and maxims and are also at home in Attic funeral orations.

_____________

118 119

120

(1980) 424, who notes: “… the failure to indicate elision where demanded by the meter, scriptio plena, is frequent at all periods. There are ten instances in nine sep. monuments and dedications earlier than 500 B.C., and the phenomenon is especially common in the fourth century B.C. and the second century A.D, a fact to be attributed to the larger number of metrical texts (usually sep. monuments, less often dedications) placed within these centuries. It is by no means rare to find elision indicated in one place and scriptio plena in another; this inconsistency is common at all periods.” Elision is used by the same engraver, as indicated by τ’ ἔργων in verse 1 and by ταῦτ’ ἔσχες in verse 4. See Alexiou (20022) 150-160. See Lausberg (1982) 137-145; Skiadas (1967) 79-82; Pircher (1979) 24 ff.; Lattimore (1942). See Russo (1983) 121-130.

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Mnemonic Devices121 The orality122 of gnomic expressions is duly observed in the fact that they are replete with mnemonic devices facilitating their memorization by the members of the community. Oral forms of wisdom literature (the proverb is probably the most typical example) show a high degree of various phonetic mechanisms that have been developed in parallel with the crystallization of proverbial expressions. Here follows a list with some phonetic mechanisms used in the gnomic statements, which are attested in fourth-century Attic grave epigrams. 1) alliteration and assonance: δικαιόσυν[όν τε φίλο]ν τε φίλ οισι προσεῖναι (CEG 600) 2) simple and syllabic assonance: εἴ τις τῶν ἀγαθῶν μνείαν ἔχε ι ἐν δορὸς ἀλκε ῖ, | / πρῶτον κρίνων (CEG 594) εἰ δέ τις εὐσε βίας παρὰ Φερσεφόνε ι χάρις ἐστίν (CEG 603) 3) word-selection based on the alliterative effect caused by the repetition of the same letter: πάντων ἀνθρώπων ν όμος ἐ|στὶ κοιν ὸς τὸ ἀποθανε̃ν . :| (CEG 487) πᾶσι θ ανεῖν …, σὺ δὲ πέν θ ος (CEG 518) εἴ τ ι δικαιοσύ[ν]ης ἆθλον τ ίθεται κατὰ γαίας (CEG 559) ὀθεὶς μόχθος … ἀγαθοῖσιν /… ἄφθονος εὐλογία· | (CEG 593) δόξα ἀρετή τε βροτοῖς καὶ ἀνενκλήτως β ιοτεῦσαι | (CEG 600) 4) Parallelismus membrorum based on a binary structure creating rhythmical balance:123 (a) [π]ολλ[ο]ῖς ἀνηὸν δαίμων βίον ὤπασε προῖκ[α] = dative + acc. … + acc. + verb ~ παύροισιν δὲ ἔτυμογ κτῆμα δικαιοσύνην = dative + acc.+ acc. (b) τὸς ἀγαθὸς ἔστερξεν Ἄρης ~ ἐφίλησε δ’ ἔπαινος = acc. + verb 1 (ἔστερξεν)/ {acc.} + verb 2 (ἐφίλησε) + nom. 1 (Ἄρης)/ nom. 2 (ἔπαινος). _____________ 121 122

123

See Lardinois (1995) 53-54. Phonetic devices of the sort described in this section are also found in proverb-like expressions from Egypt and the Near East. See Robb (1983, 153). For Indo-European examples, see Martin (1984) 29-48. See also Lardinois (1995) 55 n. 70. See Russo (1983) 124-125; Lardinois (1995) 53-54.


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Meter It has been argued that proverbs (παροιμίαι) and gnomic expressions (γνῶμαι) would be traditionally expressed by a special metrical form, the paroemiac (versus paroemiacus).124 The validity of this hypothesis would be of great importance but is inextricably connected with one of the most debated issues in the history of ancient Greek meter, namely the origin of the dactylic hexameter. Even a brief survey of the literature concerning this question and a presentation of the current state of the problem would take us very far from our main task. Instead, I would propose to concentrate only on the maxims contained in our corpus and refer to questions pertaining to the dactylic hexameter en passant. Certain γνῶμαι or parts of them (attested in fourth-century Attic grave epigrams) occupy what is known as the paroemiac, namely the part of the hexameter verse from the third foot caesura (either the penthemimeral or the trochaic) to the end, whereas others fill the metrical slots of the initial ἡμιεπές of the dactylic hexameter: Paroemiac (Ô | Ó  | Ó  | Ó Ó) or (Ó | Ó | Ó | ÓÓ): χρηστῶν τ’ ἔργων ἐπιθυμεῖν φίλον τε φίλοισι προσεῖναι καὶ ἀνενκλήτως βιοτεῦσαι παρὰ Φερσεφόνει χάρις ἐστὶν μνείαν ἔχει ἐν δορὸς ἀλκεῖ Hemiepes (Ó Ô˘Ô | Ó Ô˘Ô | Ó) or (Ó Ô˘Ô | Ó Ô˘Ô | Ó Ô): πᾶσιν θανεῖν εἵμαρται πάντων ὧν θέμις ἐστὶ

According to one of the most prominent theories concerning the origins of the dactylic hexameter, this verse has evolved from the combination of an initial hemiepes (occupying the first part of the verse from the beginning to either the penthemimeral or the trochaic caesura) and a paroemiac or enoplius.125 _____________ 124

125

Most notably Nagy (1971) 731; Pellizer (1972) 24-37; Fernández Delgado (1982) 151-173. The hemiepes can be either regular (D) or extended (D Ô). See Russo (1999) 345. This is known as the ‘coalescence-hypothesis’ (Russo 1999, 344) and has been greatly supported by Gentili-Giannini (1977) 7-52 as well as by West (1982) 35. There is also a rival theory claiming that the dactylic hexameter has originated from the expanded pherecratean with the internal insertion of dactyls. For this aeolic theory, see Nagy (1974); Berg (1978) 11-36.

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Proverbial and gnomic expressions are sometimes expressed by paroemiacs but they are also found in other metrical forms, not to mention stylized prose. Lardinois has argued that there was no traditional meter associated with gnomic expressions126 but this does not mean that wisdom expressions did not enjoy an independent status as an oral folk genre.127 It is more likely, though, that wisdom expressions such as proverbs and maxims were conditioned by meter than vice versa. In other words, gnomic expressions may have been adapted to the metrical rules imposed by the specific genre they were commonly attested in. In this light, the dactylic characteristics of a large number of gnomic statements and proverbs are the by-product of their ample use in hexametric poetry.128 The question concerning the authorship of grave epigrams is extremely fascinating, for in this particular case we might get a glimpse at a sub-genre (the funerary epigram) in its original setting (carved on a stone and read aloud by a passer-by), not within a literary context, as is the case with the work of a professional author (like the collections of epigrams composed by literary poets of the Hellenistic and Imperial periods).129 This intriguing problem has not yet found its definitive solution, since many different factors have to be taken into account (pertaining to various disciplines, such as archaeology, philology, and epigraphy) making the whole matter hard for a single professional to grasp. Moreover, the amount of incertitude concerning the various levels of the entire process, from the commissioning of the funerary monument by the family until its erection and setting in the public _____________ 126 127

128

129

See Lardinois (1995) 55 and especially n. 72. Russo (1999) 345 speaks of a “common use of the paroemiac for proverbial expression independently of hexameter poetry” which is documented in the collections of von Leutsch and Schneidewin (1839, 1851) and Strömberg (1954). On the other hand, there are also examples in the same proverb collections where the paroemiac is not used. Labarbe (1968) 353-354 argues that the dactylic rhythm of the epigram offered ideal conditions for accommodating what had been expressed in dactylic verse in Greek epic. See Day (1989) 16-28; (2000) 37-57, especially 37-38. Day argues that genreclassification should not be solely based on structural and thematic features but also on performative effects. By applying Day’s approach of dedications or ἀγάλματα to funerary epigrams we can plausibly argue that reading aloud the inscribed epitaph while looking at the relief would have led to the performance of specific acts pertaining to lamenting the dead. If ritual, as Day (38) says, “is defined functionally as the production of such effects”, then the generic force of reading a funerary epigram would equal the activation of a ritual process which would, in fact, be repeated every time a passer-by would stop and read the epitaph.


53

cemetery or in a family-enclosure, is irritatingly high with the result that many ungrounded assumptions are often made. The present study does not have the over-ambitious goal to pretend to know the answer to this intriguing problem. Its aim is a rather modest one: taking under consideration certain key-aspects of this matter, we will attempt to use certain γνῶμαι found in our corpus as supporting evidence indicating a likely interpretation of some of the ambiguites and/or paradoxes connected to the issue at hand. Clairmont seems to take it for granted that metrical epitaphs inscribed on stones were drawn from copybook-texts, available to the engraver who would use them according to the occasion.130 The same stance seems to be also taken by Bing and Lougovaya. In the latter’s own words:131 What perhaps happened in the fourth century was that inscriptional epigrams were collected for circulation as reading material for pleasure, as opposed to earlier professional use by stone-cutters.

The main arguments in support of this theory are: (a) the existence of a fourth-century collection of inscribed epigrams, the Ἐπιγράμματα Ἀττικά132 by Philochorus;133 (b) the possibility that the Sylloge Simonidea compiled by Simonides himself may have existed already in the 5th _____________ 130

131 132 133

According to Clairmont (1970) XVIII, there are 392 figured gravestones from the larger part of the Greek world, of which 92 date before 300 BCE and in particular 60% of them were found in Attica. He also argues about the prominence of Attica in respect of the combination of a funerary monument accompanied by an epigram (XVIII-XIX): “Considering the restricted geographical area of Attica in comparison with the other territories, one is entitled to say that from the time of Solon throughout the 6 century, and also later in the late 5 and 4 centuries, it was Attica which fostered the combination of epigrams and figured scenes as a distinct specialty.” Lougovaya (email 9/12/06) quoted by Bing and Bruss (2007) 6-7 n. 26. See Suda s.v. Φιλόχορος Φ 441 Α d1 = FGrHist 328 test. 1. On Philochorus’ sylloge, see also Fantuzzi (2002) 403 and n. 47 = (2004) 297 and n. 45. Other early collections of inscriptions are: (a) the Ψηφισμάτων Συναγωγή by Craterus, ca. the end of the 4th century (see Higbie 1999, 43-83); (b) the περὶ ἐπιγραμμάτων by Neoptolemos from Paros (see Petrovic 2007b, 92-93 and n. 14); the Ἐπιγράμματα Θηβαϊκά by Aristodamos, a student of Aristarchus in the 2nd century (see Petrovic 2007b, 94); the περὶ τῶν κατὰ πόλεις ἐπιγραμμάτων by Polemon of Ilium in the early 2nd century (Fantuzzi 2002, 403 = 2004, 297; Petrovic 2007b, 95). Wade-Gery (1933, 71-104) has suggested that Aeschines’ citation of the so-called Eion epigram is based on his knowledge of a collection of epideictic war epigrams compiled as early as the 5th century. On this topic, see now Petrovic (2007b) 95.

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century;134 (c) the fact that “the collection known as the pseudoAristotelian Peplos, which contained epitaphic couplets on mythical heroes (in addition to prose genealogies and information about the forces under their command), was a pre-Hellenistic compilation.” 135 The underlying factor in this sort of argument is that since the compilation of collections of inscribed epigrams seems to have begun life in the classical period, it is likely that “common formulae among early epigrams suggest that copybooks (or pattern books, as they are also called) may have existed early on, and that these circulated among sculptors and stone-cutters.” 136 The copybook theory is undoubtedly valid, the more so since circulation of collections of inscribed epigrams would have made them available to a wider public and would have probably become “a source of emulation.” 137 In this light, the repetition of phrase-patterns, expressions and diction may well have been the result of the diffusion and use of epigrammatic collections like that compiled by Philochorus. Still, certain problems remain. Firstly, the copybook theory fails to account for the low rate of correlation between reliefs and Attic funerary inscriptions, and secondly it is unlikely that the member(s) of the deceased family who commissioned the erection of a stele would rely on the use of epigrammatic collections by sculptors and stonecutters. Such a process seems to me a rather remote scenario. It is more likely that we are dealing with a rather blurred situation. Some inscribed epitaphs might have been composed by family members, whereas others by professionals who specialized in the composition of epigrams. The high cost of funerary monuments speaks for the social status of the family, which means that since the expenses were so high, only middle and upper classes were able to finance the erection of a memorial. Consequently, educated family members would be able (not because of lack of financial resources) to compose their own epigrams and dedicate them to those dear ones who have passed away. This is, of course, an indication of a likely course of events, not definitive proof. But, at least, we are in a position to know that there is no logical obstacle to the possibility that common middle and upper class Athenians composed their own fu_____________ 134 135 136 137

Sider (2007) 113-130. Gutzwiller (2008) forthcoming. Bing and Bruss (2007) 6-7 quoting a suggestion made to him by J. Lougovaya. Bing and Bruss (2007) 7. See also Petrovic (2007b) 93-98, who draws attention to the fact that early collections of epigrams were compiled on the basis of either epichoric interests (mythology and history of the various Greek cities) or personal-authorial criteria.


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nerary epigrams for their beloved ones. On the other hand, at least in the 5th and early 4th century some inscribed epitaphs were no doubt composed by professionals138 with the use of copybooks. According to this scenario, a member of the deceased’s family would have supplied the professional epigrammatist with certain details pertaining to the life of the departed person who would be commemorated, and then commissioned the composition of an epitaph more or less in the manner of commissioning the erection of a stele or funerary monument. This theory is not at odds with the problem of the discrepancy between the relief and the epitaph, for it postulates the commissioning of both a monument and an epitaph, which would explain the low ratio of correlation between relief and inscription. The significant increase of diction indicating “authorial awareness and the epigram’s literary pretension” 139 is an argumentum ex silentio supporting professional authorship by skilled τεχνῖται.140 One of the most significant parameters of this problem concerns the determination of the stage during which the epigram would be inscribed on the memorial. This is an important question because it is associated with the low rate of correlation between representation on the relief and content of the epigram. If the engraver himself or the person responsible in the workshop for the entire memorial drew the epitaph from a copybook containing collections with funerary epigrams, then he would have selected from his catalogue a metrical epitaph that would match the representation on the relief or he would have sculpted a relief based on the epitaph he had chosen. On the other hand, if a member of the deceased’s family composed the epigram or if two separate professionals (a sculptor and a poet) belonging to different workshops or guilds or working independently were involved in the process of erecting a monument with an epitaph inscribed on it, then one need not wonder about the lack of correlation between relief and epigram. This line of interpretation is consonant with the fact that we have plenty of cases where the letter quality is bad, there are peculiar spelling mistakes, certain verses don’t scan, there is a lack of space for carving the inscription and, last but not least, there is a suspicious divergence between a nicely made relief and a cursorily carved inscription. _____________ 138

139 140

Petrovic (2007a) 64 draws attention to Euripides’ (Tro. 1188-1191) early mention of a poet (μουσοποιός), who was involved in the composition of an inscribed epitaph. Petrovic (2007a) 65. See Petrovic (2007a) 64-67.

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The key-factor is here that, in all probability, the epigram was composed sometimes by a family member or by a professional τεχνίτης separately from the engraver and sometimes later than the completion of the monument. I will now present a case study where there is clear evidence that the grave epigram has been composed by the friends or family of the deceased. This example is offered by IG II2 8388 = CEG 596 and refers to a funerary epigram engraved on a relief dating from the 4th century BCE (ca. 350 ?).141 The complete text runs as follows:142 (i)

Ἀντίπατρος Ἀφροδισίου Ἀσκαλ̣[ωνίτης]. | Δομσαλως Δομανω Σιδώνιος ἀνέθηκε

(ii)

| ‫[ כן עכדעשתדת אשקלבי‬.] ‫אנך שמ‬ .‫אש יסבאת אבך דעםצלח כן דעםחבא צדבי‬

(iii) μηθεὶς ἀνθρώπων θαυμαζέτω εἰκόνα τήνδε, | ὡς περὶ μέν με λέων, περὶ δὲγ πρῶιρ’ γκτετάνυσται· | ἦλθε γὰρ εἰχθρολέων τἀμὰ θέλων σποράσαι· | ἀλλὰ φίλοι τ’ ἤμυναν καί μου κτέρισαν τάφον οὕτηι, | οὓς ἔθελον φιλέων, ἱερᾶς ἀπὸ νηὸς ἰόντες· | Φοινίκην δʼ ἔλιπον, τεῖδε χθονὶ σῶμα κέκρυνμαι. (i)

1 4

Antipatros, son of Aphrodisios from Askalon. Domsalos, son of Domano, from Sidon made the dedication.

(ii) I (am) Shem [.], son of ƁD‛ŠTRT (Abdashtart), the Ascalonite. (This is the stele) which I, D‛MṢLḤ (Domseleh), the son of D‛MḤN‛ (Domhanô) the Sidonian, erected. 143 (iii) Let no man wonder at this image that on one side of me depicts a lion and on the other side of me depicts the prow of a ship. For the hateful lion came, wishing to destroy my things, but my friends warded [the lion] off and buried me here in this tomb, the [friends] whom I loved and for whom I wished, as they departed from the sacred ship. I left Phoenicia and I, a body, am buried in this land.144

_____________ 141 142 143

144

See Clairmont (1970) 114-117. Stager (2005) 427-449 offers an exhaustive and convincing analysis of this inscription. Donner and Röllig (19662) 13 n. 54 (vol. I), 70 n. 54 (vol. II). I owe this information to Clairmont (1970) 114-115. I have followed Stager (2005) 429. Translation by Stager (2005) 436.


57

In his recently published discussion of this epigram, Stager has argued for the cultural duality of the deceased and has even recognized two audiences of implicit addressees, one of the Phoenician community in Athens and Piraeus, for whom the lion and prow imagery would have made sense, and a second one of Greeks, for whom the imagery would have been largely or even completely incomprehensible.145 In fact, the initial phrase μηθεὶς ἀνθρώπων θαυμαζέτω εἰκόνα τήνδε would have referred to the epitaph’s Greek readers. The author, in all probability, took it for granted that the representation on the relief (εἰκόνα τήνδε) would not be understood by its Greek viewers, since a κλίνη with the body of a man upon it was indeed an unusual theme.146 This unusual representation has no parallel in grave monuments of fourth-century Attica and could not have been made without the instruction of the Sidonian Δομσαλώς.147 That is exactly why he wanted to explain to all viewers the content of the relief. Stager rejects previous literal interpretations of the stele and argues that the εἰχθρολέων mentioned in the epitaph is nobody else than the ‘Queen of Heaven’, a metaphor for Astarte’s divine malevolence, who killed Antipatros, while being on board.148 The mistakes or disfluencies displayed by the epitaph are not among those usually found in grave epigrams of the same period. Kretschmer was right to argue that this epigram shows certain irregularities, which speak for its “ungriechische Abkunft”.149 In this light, _____________ 145

146

147

148 149

Stager (2005) 427-449. The very narrative of the epitaph with a speaking ‘I’ points to the bilingualism of both dedicator and deceased. This is how Clairmont (1970) 115-116 describes the relief: “A lion from the left and a headless human being from the right are bent over the figure on the kline. The lion stands on his hind legs; his forelegs are on the matress, embracing the man’s head tightly; the animal’s head, right above the victim’s head, was probably turned frontally towards the viewer; it is clear that the lion was meant to be shown vigorously attacking his prey. The human being is bent over the man’s lower body; head and arms were never represented; the bow of a ship with high curving prow takes their place.” On the imagery of the prow curved in the relief and its relation to Phoenician religious beliefs, see Stager (2005) 435. See Fantuzzi (2002) 439 = (2004) 330, who points to an epigram by Antipater of Sidon (AP 7.425 = HE 380) beginning in the same way and argues that “the stele for Antipater the Ascalonite is merely the only example from mainland Greece of an Oriental tradition of symbolic sepulchral monuments, which to some extent anticipates the custom of Hellenistic sepulchral enigmas.” Stager (2005) 439-443. Kretschmer (1894) 233 addendum ad 116. I owe this reference to Clairmont (1970) 114-115. Clairmont (1970) 115 is wrong to argue that this is simply bad

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the verbal obfuscation of the epigram’s Greek text as exemplified by its metrical, grammatical and syntactical clumsiness elides the possibility that the composer of the epitaph was a professional author of copybook-texts. Conversely, it is a covert but rather strong indication that Δομσαλώς had himself tried to write in Greek or rather ‘translate’ from a notional Phoenician text he had in mind, as it is often the case with people who translate from their native language into a second language. So in this case, we can plausibly argue that this grave epigram has been composed by the Sidonian Δομσαλώς, who also dictated to the engraver the Phoenician text we find in the inscription.150 It is extremely unlikely that a native Greek engraver could have made on his own these, otherwise unattested and unparalleled, mistakes. The example mentioned above shows that family members could very well have composed grave epigrams for their dear ones. Now it is time to see how and to what extent gnomic expressions can help us determine the authorship of certain epigrams. It is needless to say that by authorship we are here referring to the question we have initially set, namely whether the epigrams were composed by members of the deceased’s family or were derived from copybook-texts. The placement of the gnomic expressions at the beginning of the grave epigrams as well as the use of unmetrical maxims (like πάντων ἀνθρώπων νόμος ἐ|στὶ κοινὸς τὸ ἀποθανε̃ν IG II2 10435 = CEG 487) indicates that the composer of the epitaph wanted, ‘at all cost’, to insert a γνώμη in the epigram. The anonymous authors were not interested in technical matters such as metrical impeccability, since their concern was to place an attractive expression at the epitaph’s beginning. By attractive expression I am referring to a phrase familiar to the average viewer or passer-by. Thus the private στήλη commemorating the loss of an individual would acquire, through the use of a gnomic expression, an all-embracing importance. Transcending the limits imposed by the socially trivial position of the deceased, the maxim, expressing a generally accepted truth about human life or the terms of human existence, would have resulted in generalizing the particulars of a specific commemoration and subsequently emphasize the wide importance of the entire epigram. Viewed from this vantage point, the use of consolatory maxims aiming at alleviating the pain of the living has resulted in a noteworthy decrease of the vocabulary of grief used for lamenting the dead. _____________ 150

poetry. The kind of mistakes we find here are clear examples of bad Greek, not bad poetry. See Stager (2005) 445.


59

What is particularly interesting with respect to our investigation is that the exclusion of any form of extreme manifestation of mourning and grief reflects not simply an epigraphically attested phenomenon but a real social event, as indicated by earlier Solonian legislation. In other words, we know from historical evidence that restrained forms of mourning in funerals had been implemented by specific legal measures in Athenian society for a considerable amount of time before the 4th century BCE, and that the prevalence of consolatory gnomic expressions in the epitaphs of our corpus has ‘erased’ any stark manifestation of grief, of the sort we are familiar with from Greek tragedy. In this light, it becomes a tentative hypothesis that the consolatory expressions used in the epitaphs of our corpus may also reflect a ‘real’ ritual feature of the funeral and lamentation of the dead, as is the case with the ‘absence’ of extreme expressions of grief. After all, the natural result of the aforementioned prohibition would have been the shift of emphasis from grief to consolation. Rossi151 has even maintained that we cannot a priori dismiss the possibility that the elegiac meter was used for restrained lamentations forming part of the funeral ceremony. In this respect, the case of Simonides is worth mentioning. The celebrated poet employed, according to the Suda (s.v. Σιμωνίδης 439, iv 361 [Adler]), variant metrical forms to commemorate two famous naval battles of the Persian Wars (lyric for Salamis, elegiac for Artemision). Aloni explained this paradox by suggesting that Simonides composed for the same events different poems pertaining to distinct forms of performance, destined to be sung in different occasions, places, and times.152 Rossi did not think that we are necessarily dealing with distinct occasions and divergent spatio-temporal parameters but “with the typology of an event for which a song was composed in response to predetermined generic conventions.” 153 She rightly drew attention to sympotic elegy composed both in lyric and elegiac meters (and sometimes in iambic verse), although the typology of the occasion is one and the same, i.e. the symposium. Mutatis mutandis, “the celebratory and commemorative poems for the victories of the Persian Wars pertained to a single performative framework, namely that of a public occasion, whether this took place at the funerary ceremony or at a much later commemoration.” 154 _____________ 151 152 153 154

Rossi (1999) 35. Aloni (1994) 108. Rossi (1999) 36. Rossi (1999) 36.

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If fr. eleg. 22 W2 is indeed “the very first example of a rather personal threnodic poem composed by Simonides”,155 then the absence of “reflective, consolatory and gnomic mood which characterises Pindar’s threnoi” 156 shows that lament poetry could very well be performed not only in different meters (both lyric and elegiac) but also in a different mood, i.e. pathetic or, as in the case with fr. eleg. 22 W2, restrained (Simonides) rather than consolatory (Pindar).157 In this light, both the increasing importance of consolatory maxims together with the use of elegiac meter for private epitaphs may well indicate that they both constituted ‘real’ characteristics of funerary ritual. Threnodic elegy may have existed as a genre or at least as a sub-genre, and if this holds true, the possibility that “elegoi were presumably performed at funerals” 158 becomes all the more likely.159 What does the above analysis contribute to our discussion of the authorship concerning fourth-century Attic private epitaphs? If consolation to the living and elegiac meter could reflect ‘real’ features of the funerary ritual, then non-professional authorship cannot be excluded. The restrained form of the epitaphs of our corpus is perfectly consonant with fifth- and fourth-century funerary practice and commemoration of the deceased. Elegiac compositions of this sort may have been related to funerary practice, and their threnodic tone may have been refined and restrained, blurred by consolatory coloring, such as that conferred by gnomic statements. This being the case, the co-existence of threnodic and consolatory elements may be representing a consistent combination, which by the 4th century is simply designated by the words θρῆνος and θρηνεῖν, despite the fact that these terms refer only to one of the two aspects of the funerary ritual.160 In the very words of Gentili, “con il IV secolo l’epitafio anche quello pri_____________ 155 156 157 158 159

160

Yatromanolakis (1998) 10. Yatromanolakis (1998) 10. See Pind. frs. 131a-131b, 134 (Snell-Maehler) = frs. 59-60 (Cannatà Fera). West (1974) 13. Bowie (1986) 23 has argued that “the surviving fragments … do not support existence of a genre of lamentatory elegy.” This view is shared by Gentili (1968) 50-68; Fowler (1987) 98. But see Matthaiou (1986) 31-34; Lewis (1987) 188 (“I cannot help thinking, however, that the existence on stone of two sixth-century texts of lamentation goes some way into breaking down the dividing-line between the funerary epigram and a hypothetical threnodic elegy and offers more support to the existence of the latter than Bowie is prepared to allow”); Yatromanolakis (1998) 11 n. 62. On the performance of threnodic elegies, see Bartol (1993) 18-30, 53-54. Gentili (1968) 85.


61

vato, assume una più ampia dimensione nei motivi, nel lessico, nello stile, sì da divenire un vero e proprio genere letterario.” Martin has rightly used the term social speech to denote the subgenre of proverbial literature.161 I think that we would not be wrong to include gnomic expressions within this form of social speech and, thus, highlight their oral features. It is only through the performative aspect of the gnomic expression and, by extension, of the entire epigram, that we can understand why a member of the deceased’s family would be interested in composing epigrams containing maxims without paying much attention to meter. Additionally, we cannot find any reasonable explanation why epigrams derived from copybook-texts would begin with an unmetrical maxim (cf. IG II2 10435 = CEG 487: πάντων ἀνθρώπων νόμος ἐ|στὶ κοινὸς τὸ ἀποθανε̃ν) or why they would contain gnomic expressions which are not attested in the same form anywhere else.

_____________ 161

For proverbial expressions as a form of social speech, see Martin (1992) 25.

Chapter 2 Poetic Imagery Fourth-century Attic grave epigrams recurrently employ two forms of poetic imagery: the light of life and the chambers of Persephone. Imbued with eschatological coloring, these two metaphors are deftly used by the anonymous authors of Attic epitaphs to occasionally produce true poetic gems. Τhis sophisticated use of imagery marks a turning point in the history and evolution of the epigram, especially since “earlier epigrams lack marks of literariness that begin in the 4th century, for example, self-awareness of themselves as poetic texts (composers’ signatures, references to nearby inscriptions) and aspects of the poeticity typical of inscribed and literary epigrams in later periods (detailed ecphrasis, use of aphorisms).” 1 By combining the rich imagistic heritage of earlier poetry with the particularities of the specific individual commemorated in a private sepulchral inscription, the composers of funerary epigrams are occasionally able to break free from the rigid typology of their archaic and early classical predecessors. Notwithstanding the difficulties stemming from the restrictions imposed by technical factors (such as the nature of the material on which the inscription is to be carved, the dichotomy of the epigraphical space, the divergence and lack of agreement between the sculpted relief and the content of the epigram), the anonymous versifiers are able to display their personal talent and feeling for poetry and make a bold step forward, paving the way for the advent of the highly stylish literary epigram of the Hellenistic period.

The Light of Life The use of light-imagery is based on an old synecdoche between life and light.2 Light was regarded as a gift of divine provenance (ἁγνόν, _____________ 1 2

Day (2007) 31-32. Dieterich (19132) 24; Lattimore (1942) 161. This seems to have been a belief common to many different peoples and cultures. The Romans, for example,

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Chapter 2

ἱερόν, οὐράνιον)3 constantly used in opposition to darkness, which symbolized hardships, suffering and, above all, death. The morning light and, by extension, the light of the sun was a widely employed synecdoche for life itself. In fourth-century Attic grave epigrams light-imagery4 is based on the use of the following two terms: (a) φῶς/φάος, either in connection with the sun (ἠελίο λαμπρὸμ φῶς: IG II2 6004 = CEG 511) or on its own (φῶς δ’ ἔλιπ’ εὐδαίμων παῖδας παίδων ἐπιδοῦσα: IG II2 6288 = CEG 566 / εἰς φῶς παῖδ’ ἀνάγουσα βίου φάος ἤν[υσας αὐτή]: IG II2 6858 = CEG 604 / λιποῦσα φάος | μοιριδίωι θανάτωι: IG II2 7227 = CEG 543 / οὐδὲ φάος λεύσων ὅ γε δαίμοσιν ἦν ἀγέραστος: IG II2 7863 = CEG 595 / ήου φῶς: CEG 599); and (b) αὐγήν/-άς, always with the genitive of the word for sun (λίπον ἡλίου αὐγάς: IG II2 5239 = CEG 590 / ἡμεῖς δ’ ἀελίου ὅσον χρόνον εἴομεν αὐγήν: IG II2 5552a = CEG 520). The word for light is used either in its Attic form (φῶς) or in its Ionic equivalent (φάος), while both forms are once combined in the same verse: εἰς φῶς παῖδ’ ἀνάγουσα βίου φάος ἤν[υσας αὐτή] (IG II2 6858 = CEG 604). Aὐγή means light of the sun and αὐγαί rays, beams.

_____________

3 4

offered torches to Saturn (Macrobius, Sat. I 7) symbolizing the eternal, unending force of fire which stood in the place of the human soul. Dieterich (19132) 24 n. 1 quotes Plutarch, de occult. viv. 1130b: αὐτήν τε τὴν ψυχὴν ἔνιοι τῶν φιλοσόφων φῶς εἶναι τῇ οὐσίᾳ νομίζουσιν. The use of light as a symbol of life is, of course, so widespread that any effort even to offer a summary of its functions is doomed to fail. Solar imagery is also essential to this belief, the more so since the sun has been related to the generation and procreation of life, while darkness has been used as a connotation of death. On Lichtsymbolik in antiquity, see Bultmann (1948) 1-36. ἁγνόν: Soph. El. 86, Eur. fr. 443.1; ἱερόν: Hes. Works and Days 339; οὐράνιον: Soph. Ant. 944. Light imagery is constantly employed as a metaphor denoting life. On the other hand, Hades is not associated so often (as in epigrams of the imperial period) with darkness. In fourth-century Attic funerary epigrams, death is mainly symbolized in terms of loss of light, i.e. from the point of view of the living. Not being able to see the light of the sun, leaving behind the light of life etc. are expressions denoting departure from the world of the living, not reception and arrival at the world of the dead. Poetic influence (from epic, lyric and tragic poetry) is no doubt here at work, but funerary epigrams display a remarkable tendency for variation and differentiation from standard literary expressions by means of slight changes.

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Poetic Imagery

Φῶς/Φάος The word φῶς/φάος in connection with the sun5 is used in IG II2 6004 = CEG 511:6 (i) Nικόβολος Mυν|νίχο Eἰτεαῖος. (ii) σῆς ἀρετῆς ἕστηκεν ἐν Ἑλλάδι | πλεῖστα τρόπαια ἔν τε ἀνδρῶν | ψυχαῖς, οἷος ἐὼν ἔλιπες, Nικόβ|ολε, ἠελίο λαμπρὸμ φῶς, Περσεφ|όνης δὲ δ[ῶμ]α ποθεινὸς ἐὼν σοῖ|[σι φίλο]ις κατέβας.

4

(i) Nikobolos, son of Mynnichos, an Eitean. (ii) Many trophies of your virtue are set both in Greece and also in men’s souls. Being such a man you left behind, Nikobolos, the bright light of the sun; to Persephone’s house you descended, being longed for by your friends.

This is the only example of the Attic form φῶς combined with the Ionic genitive ἠελίο. The use of such dialectic combinations is typical of epigrammatic poetry, no less of funerary. λαμπρὸμ φάος ἠελίοιο is already attested in Homer (Il. 1.605), and is a typical expression used to refer to death. One has, though, to pay special attention to the exact phrasing of the funerary inscription. At first glance, the inscription displays all the typical features pertaining to funerary inscriptions of this period. It consists of three cola (σῆς ἀρετῆς ... ψυχαῖς, οἷος ... φῶς, Περσεφόνης ... κατέβας), the first of which contains a twofold praise to the deceased, the second expresses the idea of his death through the metaphor of abandoning the light of the sun, and the third, a bold combination of various elements such as a metaphor denoting death and the motif of nostalgia for those left behind, constitutes a typical example of the so-called ‘fallender Charakter’7 accompanied by a sorrowful tone that creeps up as the epitaph approaches its end. At the same time, this grave epigram exhibits a certain degree of deviation from the norm, since it lacks any ‘nähere Angabe’ and shows signs of metrical clumsiness: the name of the deceased is redundantly repeated at the beginning of the third verse although it has been already stated in the extra metrum part placed above the in_____________ 5

6 7

For the use of λαμπρός in light imagery, especially but not solely in relation to the light of the sun, see Ciani (1974) 106-107, 116-120, 124-133. In fact, λαμπρός constitutes the basic epithet of light that the three great tragedians constantly employed after Homer and Pindar, as Ciani (1974) 133 observes. All metrical inscriptions are cited from Hansen. For the term ‘fallender Charackter’, see Lausberg (1982) 139.

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scription.8 The insertion of the dead man’s name Nικόβολε (which should have been elided) at verse-initial position results in a metrical incongruity at the beginning of the second foot of the hexameter (verse 3). On the other hand, this grave epigram is not without some noteworthy stylistic qualities. The praise to the deceased is further elaborated as the epitaph unfolds. The τρόπαια of his virtue (ἀρετῆς) are both literal (ἕστηκεν ἐν Ἑλλάδι) and figurative (ἔν τε ἀνδρῶν ψυχαῖς). Nikobolos’ eulogy carries special weight, since it links the external with the internal and produces a praising tone familiar from the πολυάνδρια, which typically engaged in this sort of aretalogy for the war dead. This technique of widening the range of the deceased’s praise is further elaborated through the use of the “Sehnsucht und Trauer der Verwandten” 9 motif, another locus communis for grave epigrams. Nikobolos is thus longed for, missed and regretted (ποθεινός) by his friends. Praise has now come full circle. Starting from the public field, both external and internal, both in the material world and in its spiritual counterpart, it stretches to the private sphere of the deceased’s personal life. Moreover, the explicit references to both Nikobolos’ death and to the imagery of Persephone’s house in the Underworld are disrupted by the postponement of the verbs ἔλιπες and κατέβας respectively. Being placed at juncture points (the former at the end of the first couplet and the latter in epigram-terminal position) they play with the readers’ expectations. By dislocating syntactically related semantic groups, the author of the epitaph is able to create a staccato effect that emotionally punctuates Nikobolos’ figurative departure from life and his subsequent arrival at the Underworld. In this way, these two verbs (highlighted by their verse-localisation) underscore the idea of death stated in the second and third cola and starkly contrast it to the praise of the deceased. The placement of the light-metaphor in the central colon next to the name of Nikobolos aims at conveying a special message to the reader of the epigram. This message is effectuated by the splitting of the expression ἔλιπες ἠελίο λαμπρὸμ φῶς in two parts, with the verb ἔλιπες at verse end, and ἠελίο λαμπρὸμ φῶς in the next verse, as if it were in apposition to the vocative Nικόβολε, which is squeezed between the two parts of the metaphor. In this way, the second part can be heard as being in appo_____________ 8

9

The extra metrum part inscribed above the epigram with bigger letters reads: Nικόβολος Mυν|νίχο Eἰτεαῖος. ‘Longing and mourning of the relatives’. See Lausberg (1982) 136.

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Poetic Imagery

sition to the name of Nikobolos, as if the deceased were called ‘the shining light of the sun’ (ἠελίο λαμπρὸμ φῶς). Individual φῶς/φάος Expressions The expression φῶς/φάος + λείπειν: (φῶς δ’ ἔλιπ’ εὐδαίμων παῖδας παίδων ἐπιδοῦσα) is attested in IG II2 6288 = CEG 566: (i) [Xαιρεστράτη | Mεν]εκρ[άτους | Ἰ]καριέως. (ii)Mητρὸς παντοτέκνου πρόπολος | σεμνή τε γέραιρα τῶιδε τάφωι κεῖται | Xαιρεστράτη, ἣν ὁ σύνευνος ἔστερξεν | μὲν ζῶσαν, ἐπένθησεν δὲ θανοῦσαν· | φῶς δ’ ἔλιπ’ εὐδαίμων παῖδας παίδων ἐπιδοῦσα.

4

(i) Chairestrate, daughter of Menekrates from the deme of Ikaria. (ii)Chairestrate, the revered and honorable servant of the all-engendering mother (Cybele), is buried in this very grave, whom her husband loved when she was alive and mourned after her death; she left the light (of life) in happiness, after having seen the children of her children.

The above grave epigram has the typical three-colon structure (Mητρὸς ... Xαιρεστράτη - ἣν ... θανοῦσαν – φῶς ... ἐπιδοῦσα) with the personal data (‘nähere Angabe’) forming a nice ring at the beginning and end of the inscription. Μητρὸς παντοτέκνου πρόπολος and παῖδας παίδων ἐπιδοῦσα refer to the particulars of the deceased’s life, namely Chairestrate’s official occupation as a priestess of Cybele (Magna Mater) and her having had grandchildren respectively. The first colon is devoted to the praise of Chairestrate (σεμνή τε γέραιρα), whereas the second, after a cursory reference to Chairestrate’s husband, calls attention to the effective blending of the typical life-death antithesis and the past-present interplay (ἔστερξεν | μὲν ζῶσαν, ἐπένθησεν δὲ θανοῦσαν). Antithetical structure and thought are a locus communis in the tradition of Greek lament, from Homer10 to the present.11 The care though with which this hexameter verse has been composed is to be appreciated, since the sense- and metrical-break (at the third trochee caesura) perfectly coincide (ζῶσαν). The third colon being coterminous with verse end aims with its deliberate isometry to highlight the _____________ 10 11

For Homer’s Iliad, see now Tsagalis (2004) 44-45. Alexiou (20022) 150-160.

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central idea of the epigram. Chairestrate left the light of life (φῶς δ’ ἔλιπ’) in happiness (εὐδαίμων) because she had lived long enough to see her own grandchildren. Verse-coterminacy, a sudden and positive sense-closure, an elaborate alliteration marking off the thematic kernel (εὐδαίμων παῖ δας παί δων ἐπι δοῦσα),12 all these stylistic devices are beautifully orchestrated in order to bring to the fore the nuclear idea: the deceased died under the blessing of the goddess Cybele, at whose service she was. Chairestrate’s happiness (a nomen omen?) is presented as the result of Cybele’s blessing. The alliteration of π (Mητρὸς παντοτέκνου πρόπολος) is repeated again at the end of the epigram accentuating the intended ring: as Magna Mater is called παντότεκνος,13 so her priestess Chairestrate will be εὐδαίμων, after having lived long enough to see the children of her children. Only now the delicate interplay between the metaphor φῶς δ’ ἔλιπ(ε) and παῖδας παίδων ἐπιδοῦσα can be fully appreciated. Figurative and literal light is squeezed at the two ends of the last verse in order to emphasize the motif of life and death. Another example of the aforementioned light metaphor in Attic grave epigrams of this period is attested in IG II2 6858 = CEG 604: (i) Kλεαγόρα Φιλέου Mελ[ιτέως γυνή]. (ii) εἰς φῶς παῖδ’ ἀνάγουσα βίου φάος ἤν[υσας αὐτή], | Kλεαγόρα, πλείστης σωφροσύνης [μέτοχος], | ὥστε γονεῦσιν πέν̣θ̣ος ἀγήρατον̣ [λίπες – –]· | ἐσθλῶν [Ó Ô˘Ô Ó Ó  Ó  Ó]. (iii) Φιλέας | Φιλάγρου | Mελιτεύς.

4

(i) Kleagora, the wife of Phileas from Melite. (ii) While bringing your son to life, you completed the light of your own life, Kleagora, having shared the greatest sophrosyne, so that you left [– –] to your parents unaging mourning; of noble [Ó Ô˘Ô Ó Ó  Ó  Ó].

_____________ 12

13

For a similar alliterative play within the expression, see IG II 2 6214 = CEG 601 (παῖδας [γὰρ] | παίδων ἐσιδὼν) and IG II2 11998 = CEG 563 (π̣α̣ῖ̣δας παίδων | ἐπ̣ι̣δοῦσαν). Note, however, that in the first of the examples above the participle is ἐσιδών, not ἐπιδών. On μήτηρ παντότεκνος, see Gruppe (1906) 2, 1525 ν. 4, who observes that this inscription is probably a very early testimony of the religious (and cultic?) fusion between Rhea and Cybele, hence the term μήτηρ παντότεκνος. Rhea had given birth to the majority of the Olympian gods who were her children from Kronos. Cf. μήτηρ πάντων, IGSI 1018 = Kaibel ep. 824; mater omnium, Firm. Mat. Err. prof. rel. 3; Aug. De civ. Dei 2; παμμήτειρα, Orph. A 547; παμμήτωρ, Kaibel ep. 823.

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(iii) Phileas, son of Philagros, from Melite.

The placement of two light metaphors at the first verse of this grave epigram is undoubtedly noteworthy. Not only is the first light metaphor used in a different way as it means ‘to bring to life, to give birth to’, but it is also coupled by another light metaphor which expresses the exact opposite, namely ‘to accomplish, to complete the light of life, i.e. to die’. The idea is that Kleagora died while in labor. This striking beginning offering both the typical ‘nähere Angabe’ and also expressing the idea of death is a bold and effective combination of the light metaphor in its positive and negative meaning. Morphological variation in such a limited space, especially when not necessitated by metrical restrictions, is puzzling, since the author of the inscription could have used either the word φῶς or its Ionic equivalent φάος twice. By asking questions like this I may seem to be flogging a dead horse. Having said this, I would like to stress my contention that by exploring and mapping out the dictional landscape of this epitaph we will be able to glance at the very process by which traditional motifs are rechristened so as to produce new meanings. The metaphor ‘bring to light’ is already attested in Hesiod14 and Attic Tragedy15 and the word βίος in the genitive accompanying a neuter substantive (τέλος, τέρμα, τέρμων ... βίου) is also frequently found in the extant tragic corpus.16 Finally, the verb ἀνύω (ἀνύτω/ἁνύτω) is twice used by the tragedians in a similar context: Aeschylus (Ag. 1123) employs the expression ξυνανύτει βίου δύντος αὐγαῖς and Sophocles (Tr. 885-886) has πρὸς θανάτῳ θάνατον / ἀνύσασα μόνα. The above data show that this grave epigram displays signs of literary innovation which may bear some resemblance to the aforementioned examples from _____________ 14

15

16

Th. 157: καὶ ἐς φάος οὐκ ἀνίεσκε, 625-626: οὓς τέκεν ἠύκομος ῾Ρείη Kρόνου ἐν φιλότητι / Γαίης φραδμοσύνῃσιν ἀνήγαγον ἐς φάος αὖτις, 652: ἐς φάος ἂψ ἵκεσθε δυσηλεγέος ὑπὸ δεσμοῦ. Aesch. Pers. 630: πέμψατ’ ἔνερθεν ψυχὴν ἐς φῶς, Soph. Phil. 625: ... πρὸς φῶς ἀνελθεῖν, Ar. Av. 699: … καὶ πρῶτον ἀνήγαγεν ἐς φῶς, Eur. Alc. 362: … πρὶν ἐς φῶς σὸν καταστῆσαι βίον, Suppl. 532: … ἐς τὸ φῶς ἀφίκετο, fr. 484.4 (Melanippa Sapiens): τίκτουσι πάντα κἀνέδωκαν εἰς φάος. τέλος: Eur. Hipp. 87: τέλος δὲ κάμψαιμ᾽ ὥσπερ ἠρξάμην βίου, El. 955-956: … πρὶν ἂν πέλας / γραμμῆς ἵκηται καὶ τέλος κάμψῃ βίου, Rh. 735: οἷόν σε βίου τέλος εἷλεν. τέρμα: Aesch. fr. 362.1-2 (fabula incerta): ἀλλ᾽ οὔτε πολλὰ τραύματ᾽ ἐν στέρνοις λαβὼν / θνῄσκει τις, εἰ μὴ τέρμα συντρέχοι βίου, Soph. OT 1529-1530: [… πρὶν ἂν/τέρμα τοῦ βίου περάσῃ …], Eur. Alc. 643: … κἀπὶ τέρμα ἥκων βίου. τέρμων: Eur. Phoen. 1352: … οἷον τέρμον᾽, Ἰοκάστη, βίου. For ὁδὸς βίου, see Isoc. to Demonicus (1) 5: ὅσοι γὰρ τοῦ βίου ταύτην τὴν ὁδὸν ἐπορεύθησαν, οὗτοι μόνοι τῆς ἀρετῆς ἐφικέσθαι γνησίως ἠδυνήθησαν, ἧς οὐδὲν κτῆμα σεμνότερον οὐδὲ βεβαιότερόν ἐστιν.

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Aeschylus and Sophocles but in no way undermine the poetic skill of the anonymous author of the inscription. It is my belief that the compiler of the epigram made a daring innovation by modifying a spatial reference to βίος (such as ὁδός, τέρμα, τέρμων that were to be expected with the verb ἀνύω),17 through the use of the ionicised form (φάος) of the word for ‘light’ that was metrically equivalent to ὁδόν and could fill perfectly well the second mora of the 4th foot. This substitution was triggered by the expression εἰς φῶς παῖδ’ ἀνάγουσα which facilitated the process of dictional modification I have just described. The effect achieved is truly remarkable, for by altering traditional material the author of this epigram suggests that the mother will live on in the newborn child, whose advent to the light of life was effectuated through his mother’s departure from this same light.18 IG II2 7863 = CEG 595 οὐδὲ φάος λεύσων ὅ γε δαίμοσιν ἦν ἀγέραστος is a case worth studying, especially since serious problems of interpretation have troubled scholars for some time. (i) Γῆρυς | ἰσοτελής. | Nικὼ | Γήρυος γυνή. | Θεόφιλος ἰσοτελής. (ii) εἰ τὸ καλῶς ἔστι θανεῖν, κἀμοὶ τοῦτ’ ἀπένειμε Tύχη· | οὐδὲ φάος λεύσων ὅ γε δαίμοσιν ἦν ἀγέραστος, | πᾶσιν δ’ ἀνθρώποισι παρέσχον ἀνένκλητον ἐμαυτόν̣· | ἔντιμον χθονίοισι θεοῖς ὑπεδέξατο γαῖα. (iii) καὶ ¸ἐγὼ τοῦδ’ ἀνδρὸς ἔφυν καὶ πάντα ὁμοί | γήραι καὶ φροντίδι ̯ εὐσεβίας ἕνεκα.

4

(i)

Gerys. An isoteles citizen. Niko. Wife of Gerys. Theophilos, an isoteles citizen. (ii) If dying is a good thing, [then] Fortune has assigned this to me too. I, who was not prizeless by the gods while I was looking at the light (of life), I offered myself without reproach to all men. The earth received me as an honorable man for the gods who live below. (iii) I was by nature the wife of this man, matching in all respects old age and meditation because of my piety.

_____________ 17 18

See LSJ s.v. 5. A similar expression is found in Eur. Andr. 406: εἷς παῖς ὅδ’ ἦν μοι λοιπός, ὀφθαλμὸς βίου. See Stevens (1971) 406, who rightly observes that “ὀφθαλμός is often used metaphorically of anything precious.” See Aesch. Cho. 934, where Orestes is characterized as ὀφθαλμὸς οἴκων. Cf. Aesch. Pers. 168: ... ἀμφὶ δ’ ὀφθαλμῷ φόβος, Cho. 934: ὀφθαλμὸν οἴκων μὴ πανώλεθρον πεσεῖν, Pind. Olymp. 2.9-10: ἱερὸν ἔσχον οἴκημα ποταμοῦ, Σικελίας τ’ ἔσαν / ὀφθαλμός ... , Olymp. 6.16: ... ποθέω στρατιᾶς ὀφθαλμὸν ἐμᾶς, Soph. OT 987: καὶ μὴν μέγας ὀφθαλμὸς οἱ πατρὸς τάφοι.

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The clumsiness of this epigram’s phrasing, its numerous metrical inconcinnities and even its dating have been at the center of scholarly debate. Following Hansen,19 I shall accept a fourth-century dating, between 340-317 BCE. In the first chapter on gnomic expressions in fourth-century Attic funerary epigrams I have touched upon the initial gnomic expression of this epitaph that seems to have been modeled upon another funerary epigram from Athens, which has come down to us by means of the Anthologia Palatina.20 The epigram follows a three-colon structure. The maxim εἰ τὸ καλῶς ἔστι θανεῖν, κἀμοὶ τοῦτ’ ἀπένειμε Tύχη placed at the beginning of the inscription functions as a sort of introduction to the thematic nucleus of the epitaph. After setting the interpretive framework, the anonymous author presents the reader of the inscription with all the relevant data pertaining to the deceased: the general idea expressed here is that during his lifetime the dead person did not remain unrecompensed by the δαίμονες and lived without reproach among all men. Verses 2-3 forming this second part are symmetrically organized, as it can be seen from: (a) the use of two compound verbal adjectives in -τος with αprivative (ἀγέραστος, ἀνένκλητον) and (b) three datives of agent (δαίμοσιν, πᾶσιν ... ἀνθρώποισι), which are equally distributed among them. The light metaphor φάος λεύσων functions as a foil for the twofold ensuing vehicle. The author of this grave epigram skilfully blends an epic-colored expression triggered by the connotations of ἀγέραστος with legal-oriented vocabulary (παρέσχον ἀνένκλητον ἐμαυτόν) in order to offer to future passers-by advice concerning the way they should ‘read’ the metaphor φάος λεύσων. The verb λεύσ(σ)ω is used in Homer to introduce an object-clause that expresses literal or figurative ‘seeing’21 or a question containing advice22 about a possi_____________ 19 20

21 22

See Hansen CEG 595 (pp. 83-84) for an overview of the relevant material. AP 7.253 (FGE 8). See Hansen CEG 595 (p. 84) with all the relevant bibliography. Recently, Kowerski (2005, 77-78 and 159) seems not to exclude the possibility of ‘Simonidean’ authorship of this epitaph. Here, it suffices to say that the existence and circulation of a Sylloge Simonidea that contained both genuine and non-genuine epigrams by Simonides may have influenced the anonymous composer of CEG 595. I tend to side with Hansen, who argues on linguistic grounds that AP 7.253 is later than the Persian Wars, and it may well be referring either to the dead in the battle of Chaeronea or in the Lamian War. Il. 1.120: λεύσσετε γὰρ τό γε πάντες, ὅ μοι γέρας ἔρχεται ἄλλῃ. Il. 3.110: λεύσσει, ὅπως ὄχ’ ἄριστα μετ’ ἀμφοτέροισι γένηται. On φάος λεύσ(σ)ων in Greek tragedy, see Soph. Trach. 829: … ὁ μὴ λεύσσων; Eur. Tro. 269: … ἆρά μοι ἀέλιον λεύσσει; Phoen. 1084: … εἰ λεύσσει φάος. See also LSJ s.v. Ciani (1974) does not examine the use of λεύσσω.

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ble course of action.23 The first of these two Homeric attestations of λεύσ(σ)ω is of paramount importance, for it bears striking similarities to the use of this verb together with a γέρας-expression. The Iliadic passage in question runs as follows (Il. 1.118-120): αὐτὰρ ἐμοὶ γέρας αὐτίχ’ ἑτοιμάσατ’, ὄφρα μὴ οἶος Ἀργείων ἀγέραστος ἔω, ἐπεὶ οὐδὲ ἔοικεν· λεύσσετε γὰρ τό γε πάντες, ὅ μοι γέρας ἔρχεται ἄλλῃ.24 Find me then some prize that shall be my own, lest I only among the Argives go without, since that were unfitting; you are all witnesses to this thing, that my prize goes elsewhere.25

In the Iliadic passage, Agamemnon calls the Argives to witness the loss of his γέρας. Likewise the anonymous author of the grave epigram figuratively ‘transforms’ all readers into witnesses, who shall be aware of the fact that during Gerys’ lifetime (φάος λεύσων) he had been honored by the δαίμονες and that he was considered blameless among all men.26 The comparison with the aforementioned Iliadic passage shows how important for Agamemnon the loss of his prize is within the social framework of the heroic community. Throughout the whole of Iliad 1, this cardinal preoccupation with honor, prize gaining and status is exemplified through the rhetoric of γέρας, which is constantly used by Achilles and abused by Agamemnon. In Il. 1.163, Achilles complains that he never had an equal share with Agamemnon in the war-spoils (οὐ μὲν σοί ποτε ἶσον ἔχω γέρας), whereas Agamemnon (Il. 1.185-187) specifically tells Achilles that he will take Briseis from _____________ 23 24 25 26

See Tarrant (1960) 181. The text of the Iliad follows the Teubner edition by West (1998-2000). All Iliad translations are taken from Lattimore (1951). I would like to make it clear that I am not arguing that CEG 595 alludes to the Homeric text of Il. 1.118-120. Marco Fantuzzi (private communication) rightly draws my attention to the following facts: (a) in CEG 595 the subject of λεύσσειν and ἦν is the same whereas in Il. 1.120 the subjects of λεύσσετε and ἔρχεται are different, and (b) in CEG 595 the sense of the expression φάος λεύσων is not related to that of λεύσσετε (witness) in the Homeric text. Both observations are certainly true but I think that the analogy I am arguing for is still valid. In fact, both passages presuppose the existence of an audience (passers-by in CEG 595 - the Argives in Il. 118-120) witnessing the importance each speaker attributes to the notion of γέρας. In other words, the aforementioned analogy is not based on the use of λεύσσειν but on the similarity of the two situations that is reinforced by the cumulative evidence presented above. Given that Gerys, like Agamemnon, is heavily preoccupied with honor, he is aiming at turning his epitaph into a testimony of the γέρας he had received.

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his hut ‘that you may learn well / how much greater I am than you, and another man may shrink back / from likening himself to me and contending against me’ (... ὄφρ᾽ εὖ εἴδῃς / ὅσσον φέρτερός εἰμι σέθεν, στυγέῃ δὲ καὶ ἄλλος / ἶσον ἐμοὶ φάσθαι καὶ ὁμοιωθήμεναι ἄντην).27 In CEG 595 Gerys, the first-person mourner, is an ἰσοτελής,28 belonging to the only category of foreigners in Attica who declared their status on gravestones, in contrast to the μέτοικοι or the ξένοι.29 Moreover, when the ἰσοτελεῖς inscribed their names on their gravestones, they did not mention either their ethnic origin or their citizenship in a foreign state.30 In fact, only a limited number of ἰσοτελεῖς had their status inscribed on gravestones. The parameters delineated above can be lumped together as an attempt to monumentalize the circumscribed contexts of Gerys’ life in his gravestone commemoration. By calling attention to his status as an ἰσοτελής and subsequently by forging a link between divine and human approval, Gerys takes his place in a figurative hall of fame of Athenian citizens.31 The declaration of citizen status, a rather odd feature for a grave epigram, has thus allowed the author of the epitaph to epitomize the deceased’s social position. The language of the epigram blends epic overtones and legally oriented fourth-century vocabulary in order to commemorate the deceased’s importance and honor. In fact, it can be fully grasped that verse 3 (πᾶσιν δ’ ἀνθρώποισι παρέσχον ἀνένκλητον ἐμαυτόν̣) forms an indirect praise to the deceased, if we take into consideration that from the beginning of the 4th century metics (including the ἰσοτελεῖς) could appear in court without having to be represented by their προστάτης, who was an Athenian citizen. In that respect, it would make sense to praise one’s compliance with the law, especially since he now had full legal responsibility for his own actions.32 This is _____________ 27 28

29 30 31 32

Lattimore (1951) 64. Osborne (1982) 34 calls attention to the rarity and servile associations of the name Gerys in Athens and argues that the Gerys of our epitaph is the same with a Gerys mentioned in an Athenian decree of 401/0 BCE (IG II2 10 + Addendum p. 655 = Tod, GHI 100 + IG II2 2403 + SEG 12.84) granting certain privileges to the foreigners who had assisted Thrasyboulos in the restoration of democracy by seizing the fortress of Phyle (Osborne 1981, 37-41; see D6). On such a reading, Gerys may well have been granted isoteleia for contributing to the liberation of Athens from the tyranny of the Thirty. On the formation of the name Gerys, see Bechtel (1917) 108; Fraser (1995) s.v. ‘Gerys’. See Vestergaard (2000) 83. See Whitehead (1977) 33; Fraser (1995) 66. In this light, the expression οὐδὲ … ἦν ἀγέραστος may be reflecting the honor of becoming an isoteles. See Sakellariou (1999) 138-139. On metics, see Hommel (1932) cols. 14131454; Whitehead (1977); Baslez (1984).

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a striking example of the functional annulment of the typical dichotomy of the epigraphical space between an unmetrical first section where the name of the deceased is inscribed and a second, longer section including the grave epigram proper. A feature of the first section is ‘explained’ and dictionally developed in the second section. One could even adduce further evidence concerning the invalidation of the dichotomy of the epigraphical space. The name Γῆρυς is aurally reflected in ἀγέραστος and γήραι, the former referring to the deceased’s status, the latter to his wife Nico who was his ὁμοία (note the use of ὁμοιωθήμεναι within an analogous context by Agamemnon in Il. 1.187) in age (γήραι) and wit (φροντίδι̯). By adding ἔντιμον to the list of terms designating Gerys’ status, the last line of the epigram determines how the deceased will be ‘received by the earth’ and the gods that lie beneath. The notion of honor (τιμή) accompanying γέρας is also colored in epic terms, as can be seen by Il. 1.505-507 (τίμησόν μοι υἱόν, ὃς ὠκυμορώτατος ἄλλων / ἔπλετ’, ἀτάρ μιν νῦν γε ἄναξ ἀνδρῶν Ἀγαμέμνων / ἠτίμησεν· ἑλὼν γὰρ ἔχει γέρας αὐτὸς ἀπούρας) and Th. 395-396 (τὸν δ’ ἔφαθ’, ὅστις ἄτιμος ὑπὸ Kρόνου ἠδ’ ἀγέραστος, / τιμῆς καὶ γεράων ἐπιβησέμεν, ἣ θέμις ἐστίν). Read this way, the above epigram may be understood as an effort on the part of the deceased’s family to emulate the authority of citizen epitaphs. It even raises the possibility that Gerys’ epitaph embodies an entire set of social principles reflecting tensions and aspirations in fourth-century Athenian society. A unique light metaphor is attested in CEG 599 = ΣΕΜΑ 2064. The inscription runs as follows: ἥδε χθὼ̣ν ἐ̣κ̣άλυψε Kλεὼ τὴν σώφρονα πάντα | δύσμορον ἡλικίας· ὀλοφύρεται ἥ σε τεκοῦσα, | σούς τε κασιγνήτους λποῦσα ἔθανες, ήου φῶς, | σὴν αὔξουσ’ ἀρετὴν καὶ σωφροσύνην ἐρατεινήν. This soil covered Kleo, who was chaste in every respect, but ill-fated in regarding her age; the one who gave birth to you is grieving. You died bringing pain to your brothers, o light of the demos, but increasing your virtue and your lovely sophrosyne.

Before embarking on an analysis of the expression ήου φῶς, I would like to discuss certain textual issues pertaining to this grave epigram as a whole. Verse 3, as carved on the stone, poses a number of problems due to its metrical and semantic inconcinnities:

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ΣOYΣTEKAΣIΓNHTOYΣΛIΠOYΣAEΘANEΣAHΛIOYΦΩΣ

Peek33 has rightly suggested, though not without a certain hesitation, that we should read λυποῦσα and not λιποῦσα. Hansen34 offers a wealth of relevant cases either containing the expressions λύπην λείπειν and λύπην παρέχειν or simply including the verb λυπέω: CEG 515: ὦ μεγάλην λύπην σὺ λιπο̃σα ... CEG 541: [οὐ]δ̣ένα λυπήσασα, 554: ... οὐθένα | λυπῶν).35 CEG 585: ὥστε θανὼν ἔλιπον λύπας … CEG 684: νῦν δὲ θανὼν λύπας ἀθανάτους παρέχω

Peek has ingeniously proposed ήου φῶς in the place of the meaningless AHΛIOYΦΩΣ, which is carved on the stone. It seems that “lapidarius, qui rei metricae ignarus locutione inexspectata δήμου φῶς male lecta locutiones formasque usitatas confuse adhibuit.” 36 On such a premise, it is not inconceivable that the α of λποῦσ{α} has been wrongly added by the stone-carver, who correctly omits it in the next line to avoid hiatus (αὔξουσ’ ἀρετήν). One should, therefore, edit verse 3 as follows: σούς τε κασιγνήτους λποῦσ{α} ἔθανες, ήου φῶς. The expression ήου φῶς is an interesting dictional coin, constituting a hapax legomenon in all of Greek epigrammatic poetry. Peek has offered a list of passages containing φῶς/φάος-expressions, which he regards as analogous to the hapax ήου φῶς.37 I will now proceed by giving a larger list of ‘equivalent’ passages which includes Peek’s list, a couple of references from Hansen,38 and Tarrant’s material from her article on light-metaphors:39 1. Od. 16.23: ἦλθες, Tηλέμαχε, γλυκερὸν φάος 2. Anacreon, 380 (PMG): χαῖρε φίλον φῶς χαρίεντι μειδιῶν προσώπῳ 3. Pindar, Isthm. 2.17: Ἀκραγαντίνων φάος

_____________ 33 34 35

36 37 38 39

Peek (1968) 371-372. Hansen, CEG 599. All these parallels corroborate Peek’s reading. See also SEG 25.299. Expressions like 541: [οὐ]δ̣ένα λυπήσασα and 554: ... οὐθένα λυπῶν are later typically employed in consolation literature. See Kassel (1958) 4-12. Speech, especially funerary speech, is capable of alleviating pain and suffering, and must be used according to particular circumstances and based on an intimate knowledge of the deceased (11). Hansen, CEG 599. Peek (1968) 372. Hansen, CEG 599. Tarrant (1960) 181-187.

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Chapter 2 4. Eur. El. 449-450: ἱππότας τρέφεν Ἑλλάδι φῶς / Θέτιδος εἰναλίας γόνον 5. fr. trag. adesp. 644.31-32 (Kannicht and Snell): σέθεν, Ἕκτορ, [Ô Ó | ÔÔ Ó Ô|] πάτρ̣ᾳ / καὶ ἐμοὶ μέγα φῶς 6. Anth. Pal. 7.373.1-2: δισσὰ φάη, Mίλητε, τεῆς βλαστήματα γαίης, / Ἰταλὶς ὠκυμόρους ἀμφεκάλυψε κόνις

The expression ήου φῶς bears only limited similarities with the equivalent expressions of the above list. They all refer to a person or (as in item 6) persons and the word φῶς is accompanied by a ‘modifier’ (items 1, 2, 6) or a reference point (a genitive or dative as in items 3, 4) or both (item 5). Items 1, 2, 3, 5, and 6 stand closer to the expression ήου φῶς for they also share an equivalent funerary context.40 Moreover, in all the above items the light metaphor containing the word φάος/φῶς refers or alludes to the acknowledgement of the service offered by the deceased to an individual (1, 2) or to the fatherland (4) or to both the fatherland and an individual (5) or to the city (3, 6). These parallels, then, reveal that the light metaphor ήου φῶς should be ‘read’ as an indirect praise on the part of the city to the deceased.41 It is all the more surprising that a social recognition of one’s service is here employed for a young (δύσμορον ἡλικίας) woman. The placement of this light metaphor at verse end does not simply punctuate emotionally the loss of a beloved person but it also deftly embeds it in its thematic blueprint, which coheres with fourthcentury social ideals. The lament context is fully exploited as a fertile literary field allowing social concerns to grow. The expression ήου φῶς inaugurates the third and last part of the inscription, where the measures of Kleo’s praise are spelled out: her arete and sophrosyne have been increased, she has won the kleos of commemoration both as a beloved daughter and sister and also as a member of the demos. She clearly stands out as an individual who is esteemed not simply as a family member but also as a citizen.

_____________ 40

41

See Od. 16.23 and also what is said about Telemachus a few lines before (16.20-22): ὣς τότε Tηλέμαχον θεοειδέα δῖος ὑφορβὸς / πάντα κύσεν περιφύς, ὡς ἐκ θανάτοιο φυγόντα· / καί ῥ᾽ ὀλοφυρόμενος ἔπεα πτερόεντα προσηύδα. The very first traces of this use may be found already in Homer, where φάος as sunlight is often identified with the light of life. Therefore, φάος may denote two related, especially within the framework of the Iliad, semantic fields, salvation and glory. See Ciani (1974) 85-86.

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Aὐγή/-αί42 In her study on ancient Greek poetic terminology regarding light, Ciani distinguishes between (a) the light of the sun, and (b) the light of fire.43 In our corpus only the first meaning is used both in the singular and plural but without the typical semantic differentiation we encounter in Homeric poetry, where the singular denotes the sunlight, while the plural refers to the rays of the sun. In Pindaric poetry, αὐγή is used only in the plural. It seems that the Homeric distinction had ceased to be valid, and that the term began to mean ‘splendor’. In Aeschylus, the singular denotes the light of fire, whereas the plural the rays of the sun. In Sophocles, the singular designates ‘gleaming’, while the plural is used in reference to the eyes. In Euripides, the singular may denote either the rays of the sun or the splendor of the sun or the day (as a metaphor) or splendor in general, whereas the plural has a secondary function, mainly in relation to the eyes.44 (a) Λίπον ἡλίου αὐγάς The expression ἡλίου αὐγάς is used once with the verb λίπον (CEG 590): (i) Φίλαγρος Ἀγγελῆθεν. Ἥγιλλα Φιλάγρο. (ii) ἡλικίαμ μὲν ἐμὴν ταύτην δεῖ πάντας ἀκοῦσαι· εἰκοστῶι καὶ πέμπτωι ἔτει λίπον ἡλίου αὐγάς. | τοὺς δὲ τρόπους καὶ σωφροσύνην ἣν εἴχομεν ἡμεῖς ἡμέτερος πόσις οἶδεν ἄριστ’ εἰπεῖν περὶ τούτων.

4

(i) Philagros from the deme of Aggelai. Hegilla, daughter of Philagros. (ii) Everybody must learn about my exact age; I left the light of the sun at my twenty-fifth year. In respect of my manners and the sophrosyne I had,

_____________ 42

43 44

In Homeric poetry, αὐγή mainly denotes the concept of light (in relation or contrast to darkness). Αὐγαί designate the rays of the sun, stars, lightning, and metals (especially bronze). Just because the rays of the sun cannot reach the realm of Hades where darkness prevails, so the expression ‘to see the light of the sun’ evolved into a metaphor for being alive. See Constantinidou (1993) 95-107. See Ciani (1974) 11-14. I owe this information to Schmidt (1876) 563-598 and Ciani (1974) 81-83, 9092. On light in Greek literature, see also Wetter (1915); Bultmann (1948) 1-36; Beierwaltes (1957); Tarrant (1960) 181-187; Mugler (1960) 40-72, (1964); Classen (1965) 97-116; Treu (1965) 83-97.

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This grave inscription comes from a marble stele with a pediment in whose middle there is an acroterion representing a Siren with long wings. The pediment contains a relief with three figures whose heads are the only part left intact: on the left, a bearded man who is standing (probably Philagros, father of the deceased), in the middle a woman who is also standing (the attendant of Hegilla), and on the right another woman, who is seated (Hegilla). The stone, which was found in the southern part of Athens and is now at the Staatliches Museum in Berlin (n. 741 = K 45) has been dated by Kirchner (IG II2 5239) and Peek (GVI 1790) to the 4th century (ca. 360-350). The epitaph has been inscribed outside the epistylion.45 The identifications of the figures in the relief are guaranteed by the two names inscribed above the heads of the man and the woman on the left and right respectively. Since Hegilla is referred to by her father’s name (Philagros) and Philagros is the man’s name on the left, it is plausible to argue that Philagros is Hegilla’s father, and not her husband. These observations are at odds with verse 4 of the grave inscription, which refers to her husband, who is absent from the relief. The above epigram displays a two-colon structure, with verses 1-2 forming the first part, and verses 3-4 the second. The first verse introduces the theme of age, which is frequently attested in funerary inscriptions, especially when the deceased is young.46 On the other hand, part of the epitaph’s diction represents an odd formation, since ἡλικία mainly features together with the verb λείπω (CEG 577: ἡλικίας δὲ πόθον νεαρᾶς μνήμην τε λιποῦσα, 624: ἡλικία̣[ν]|προλιπών) or with the adjective δύσμορος (CEG 591.6: ἥρπασας ἡλικίας δύσ[μ̣ορον Ô]σε[Ô Ó], 599.2: δύσμορον ἡλικίας…) or with other combinations (CEG 701.2: ὃς νέ̣ο̣ς̣ ἡλικίας ἄνθος ἔχων ἔθανεν, 704.4: σῆς ἀρε|τῆς ἕνεκεν καὶ ¸οὐ μόνον ἡλικί|ας). Verse 1 is virtually an indirect address to all future passers-by, the would-be readers of this epitaph, who will thus find out about the age of the deceased. The use of ἀκοῦσαι is noteworthy, for it underlines the fact that the passers-by will read the epigram aloud and so they will hear and, consequently, learn about the age of the deceased. I was able to trace only one other fourth-century equivalent to the ‘enunciative’ use of such a traditional theme as that of the deceased’s age. It does not come from Attica but, nevertheless, of_____________ 45 46

See Blümel (1928) 40-41, n. K 45 (Table 52). See CEG 482, 527-528, 538, 568, 573, 577, 584, 590, 591.1, 591.6, 599, 624, 662, 665, 691, 701, 704, 716, 732, 888.5.

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fers a revealing use of the same motif. CEG 665 is a two-verse stoichedon epitaph in dactylic hexameters that is inscribed on an oblong marble base. It comes from the island of Amorgos and reads as follows: Oἰνόβιος Δίωνος ἀποφθιμένο τόδ’ ἀώρο | μνῆμ’ ἔσορᾶν δ’ ἡλικίην παρέχει. Oinobios set this memorial of Dion, who died prematurely. It offers you the chance to look at his age.

Through the reference to Dion’s ἡλικίη, the μνῆμα gives the passersby the ability to visualize the deceased’s age, i.e. his youth. The phrasing only confirms or makes clearer what is already portrayed in the relief. Still this is the only fourth-century grave epigram explicitly pointing to the correspondence between the relief and the inscription. In order to understand the peculiarities of this epitaph, one needs to keep in mind the above observations, which will become relevant when combined with the study of the rest of the inscription, especially the function of the light metaphor in the second verse. The second semantic unit of CEG 590 is verse 2 (line 3), which explicitly informs the reader about the age of the deceased: ‘in the 25th year (of my life) I left the light of the sun’. The combination λείπω + ἡλίου αὐγάς is only attested in an alleged grave epigram from Thebes, now lost to us. According to the Homeric scholia ad 18.570c1 [IV 556 Erbse] and Eustathius ad 18.570 [IV 258 van der Valk], there was a tradition47 about an inscription at Thebes commemorating the death of Linos. This was a metrical inscription48 in dactylic hexameter ending with the expression ἐπεὶ λίπες ἡλίου αὐγάς. Otherwise, this expression is not attested before the 4th century BCE. It seems to have been the result of substituting φάος with αὐγάς in a metaphorical expression for death (see Il. 18.11: χερσὶν ὕπο Tρώων λείψειν φάος ἠελίοιο / Od. 11.93: τίπτ’ αὖτ’, ὦ δύστηνε, λιπὼν φάος ἠελίοιο / Homeric Hymn to _____________ 47

48

In the text of the Homeric scholia (ad 18.570c1 [IV 556 Erbse]), the form φασί seems not to refer to Philochorus (see FGrHist 328 F 207) and Melanippides (fr. 766 [PMG]) who had narrated the story of Λίνος. The source from which the scholia Homerica derive the information about a grave epigram (the stone does not survive) from Thebes in Boeotia remains unknown. At any rate, the inscription runs as follows: ὦ Λίνε πᾶσι [πάντα Eust.] θεοῖσι τετιμένε, σοὶ γὰρ ἔδωκαν / ἀθάνατοι πρώτῳ [πρῶτοι cod.] μέλος ἀνθρώποισιν ἀεῖσαι [ἀείδειν Eust.] / ἐν ποδὶ δεξιτερῷ. Mοῦσαι δέ σε θρήνεον αὐταί / μυρόμεναι μολπῇσιν, ἐπεὶ λίπες ἡλίου (ἠελίου cod.) αὐγάς. See carm. pop. 880 (PMG).

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Aphrodite (5) 272: τῶν δέ θ’ ὁμοῦ ψυχὴ λείπει φάος ἠελίοιο / Theognis 569: ἄφθογγος, λείψω δ’ ἐρατὸν φάος ἠελίοιο / Eur. fr. 816.11 [Kannicht]: πᾶς τις φοβεῖται φῶς λιπεῖν τόδ’ ἡλίου). This replacement led to the mutual change of word order (φάος ἠελίοιο was turned into ἡλίου αὐγάς) because of metrical reasons (φάος scans Ô Ô, whereas αὐγάς scans Ó Ó).49 The pioneering combination λιπεῖν ἡλίου αὐγάς and the innovative use of the ἡλικία-expression occupy the first part (verses 1-2: ἡλικίαμ μὲν ἐμὴν ταύτην δεῖ πάντας ἀκοῦσαι· / εἰκοστῶι καὶ πέμπτωι ἔτει λίπον ἡλίου αὐγάς) of the epitaph. These two verses delineate a clear-cut antithesis with the second part of the epigram (verse 3-4: τοὺς δὲ τρόπους καὶ σωφροσύνην ἣν εἴχομεν ἡμεῖς / ἡμέτερος πόσις οἶδεν ἄριστ’ εἰπεῖν περὶ τούτων) devoted to the praise of the deceased.50 Tagged by the postpositives μέν-δέ, the two parts complement each other and should be read as a diptych consisting of three antithetical pairs, the first being the principal one, while the second and the third are subordinated to it: Part I

Part II

ἡλικίαμ

τρόπους καὶ σωφροσύνην

πάντας

πόσις

ἀκοῦσαι

εἰπεῖν

From the innovative diction of the first part, the speaking voice of the deceased woman changes the rhythm by explicitly referring to the intimate part of her life, the one known to her husband. This human touch brings the epitaph to its end, which is none other than the allimportant disclosure of the concerted function of the epigram and the stele at large. The husband who is left behind, the one who is not portrayed in the relief, is the only person who can truly testify to the gentleness of character and the sophrosyne Hegilla possessed during _____________ 49

50

The Ionic form φάος is well attested in fourth-century Attic grave epigrams. Cf. IG II2 6288 = CEG 566; IG II2 6858 = CEG 604; IG II2 7227 = CEG 543; IG II2 7863 = CEG 595. Moreover, it is frequently governed by the verb λείπω. Cf. φῶς δ’ ἔλιπ’ εὐδαίμων παῖδας παίδων ἐπιδοῦσα: IG II2 6288 = CEG 566/ εἰς φῶς παῖδ’ ἀνάγουσα βίου φάος ἤν[υσας αὐτή]: IG II2 6858 = CEG 604/ λιποῦσα φάος | μοιριδίωι θανάτωι : IG II2 7227 = CEG 543. See Geffcken (1916) 36: “Characteristisch für diese Zeit, die den Schmerz um den Verlust zu viel vollerem Ausdruck bringt, ist das eingehende Lob des guten Weibes.”

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her lifetime. Only now can one grasp the functional symbiosis between the monument and the epitaph, which are effectively combined to bridge the built-in dichotomy between externally perceived appearance (such as age) and internally experienced reality (such as character). Instead of the direct expression of esteem or love by the husband for the wife, which is customary in the epitaphs for married women,51 the deceased’s husband becomes here the living testimony of his wife’s memory, a voice whose authority is acknowledged by the literary convention of his dead wife’s speaking I embedded in this very funerary incription. (b) Ἀελίου εἴδομεν αὐγήν (CEG 520) A variant of the ἡλίου αὐγάς expression is attested with the verb εἴομεν (IG II2 5552a = CEG 520): (i) (ii) (iii) (iv)

Δημά̣ρ̣ε̣τ̣ο̣ς̣ Δημονόθου | Ἀλωπεκῆθεν. Xαιρίας Xαιρεφάνος | Περγασῆθεν. Kαισστρτη. ὦ φίλοι ἡμέτεροι, χρηστὶ πιστὶ διὰ παντός, | χαίρετε· κοινὸν γὰρ ῥῆμα τόδ’ ἐστὶ βροτοῖς. | ἡμεῖς δ’ ἀελίου ὅσον χρόνον εἴομεν αὐγὴν | | εἰς ἀγαθόν τε ἐνέποντες καὶ ἐξοπίσ[ω] πάλιν αὖθις, | νυνὶ δὲ θμενοι κείμεθα γῆς ἀφανεῖς.

4

8

6. μέν Peek 52 : Hansen : ἐς suppl.53

_____________ 51 52 53

See e.g. CEG 539.2: Ἀρχεστράτην ἀνδρὶ ποθεινοτάτην. See Peek (1941b) 55 n. 2. See Hdt. 1.55: ἐς αἰεὶ χρόνον, 1.77: ἐς χρόνον ῥητόν, 1.108: ἐς τὸν μετέπειτα χρόνον, 3.65: ἐς τὸν ἅπαντα χρόνον, 3.72: ἐς χρόνον, 4.187: ἐς τὸν πάντα χρόνον, 7.29: οὔτε ἐς χρόνον, 7.73: χρόνον ὅσον, 7.94: ὅσον μὲν χρόνον, 8.129: ἐς τὸν μετέπειτα χρόνον, 9.63: ὅσον μέν νυν χρόνον, 9.73: ἐς τὸν πάντα χρόνον, 9.89: ἐς χρόνον; Th. 1.108 = 2.51 = 3.46 = 3.114: ἐς τὸν ἔπειτα χρόνον, 2.77: ἔς γε ἐκεῖνον τὸν χρόνον, 4.117: ἐς τὸν πλείω χρόνον, 6.31: ἐς ἐκεῖνον τὸν χρόνον. For tragedy, see Aesch. Eum. 670: ἐς τὸ πᾶν χρόνου; Eur. Her. 143: τίν’ ἐς χρόνον ζητεῖτε μηκῦναι βίον; Ion 1349: σῶσαι τόδ’ εὕρημ’ ἐς τὸν ὄντα νῦν χρόνον; Or. 207: ἐς τὸν αἰὲν ἕλκω χρόνον; IA 865: ὁ λόγος ἐς μέλλοντ᾽ ~ἂν ὤσῃ~ χρόνον. See also Eur. Hec. 436 (ὅσον χρόνον). Two other passages display certain features also found at CEG 520: (a) Theognis 93-100; (b) Soph. Phil. 348-349 (ταῦτ, ὦ ξέν᾽, οὕτως ἐννέποντες οὐ πολὺν / χρόνον μ᾽ ἐπέσχον μή με ναυστολεῖν ταχύ). What is even more interesting is that all passages are concerned with friendship (or its abuse). Moreover, in the Sophoclean passage Neoptolemus is referring to his deceit by Odysseus and Phoenix, who

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Demaretos, son of Demonothos, from Alopeke. Chairias, son of Chairephanes, from Pergase. Kallistrate. My friends, good and loyal for ever, Farewell. For this word is common to mortals. As long as we saw the light of the sun | speaking with good intentions and then again and again. But now, we are lying dead, unseen under the ground.

This inscription has been inscribed on a marble stele with kyma and anthemium. The upper and right part of the anthemium have been partly broken, as well as the lower part of the stele. It belongs to the 4th century (ca. 370-360),54 the latter date (ca. 360) being more probable. 55 It is of unknown provenance, now preserved at the National Archaeological Museum in Athens. It is a six-verse epigram in three elegiac couplets with a missing pentameter in the second distich. Peek 56 has traced certain Empedoclean echoes, such as the qualification of the second person plural by the word φίλοι coupled by χαίρετε at the beginning of the second verse (line 5 of the inscription).57 The relevant passage from Empedocles’ Kαθαρμοί (Purifications) reads as follows (B 112.1-5 DK):58 ὦ φίλοι, οἳ μέγα ἄστυ κάτα ξανθοῦ Ἀκράγαντος / ναίετ’ ἄν’ ἄκρα πόλεος, ἀγαθῶν μελεδήμονες ἔργων, / / χαίρετ’· ἐγὼ δ’ ὑμῖν θεὸς ἄμβροτος οὐκέτι θνητός / πωλεῦμαι μετὰ πᾶσι τετιμένος, ὥσπερ ἔοικα, ... The use of χαίρετε is also noteworthy for this is the only case in the extant corpus of fourth-century epigrams that it is separated from its nominal accompaniment.59 Χαίρετε had been already used in a single fifth-century polyandrion (CEG 1.4) as an address to the Athenian _____________

54 55 56 57 58 59

convinced him to leave Scyros and go to Troy after Achilles’ death. In fact, Neoptolemus explicitly says that the main reason for his hastened departure from Scyros was his desire to see the body of his dead father Achilles, whom he had never seen before (350-351). According to H. Möbius. See Peek (1941b) 54 n. 4. See Kirchner IG II 5552a; Peek GVI 1211 agrees with Kirchner’s proposal. Peek (1941b) 54-56. On the deaths of Empedocles himself, see Chitwood (2004) 48-58. I am following the numbering of Diels-Kranz but I have used the text of Inwood (20012) 210. See also the edition of Wright (19952). Cf. the use of χαίρετε in fourth-century epigrams: χαίρετε (δ᾽/δὲ) οἱ παριόντες (CEG 487, 492, 677) and χαίρετε τοὶ |˛ ἀνθέντες πάν|τες τῶι Ναυ|κοσάμαι (sic) με (CEG 901).

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war dead, who perished in the battle of Tanagra.60 The tone of this address, however, is gnomic-consolatory and not threnodic. The Athenian polis had gradually developed an entire nexus of law-abiding practices, which expressed the funerary ideology of the all-powerful city-state.61 These practices included public collective epitaphs for the war dead, such as the polyandria, public burial, the prohibition of expressing grief and excessive lamentation in public, the utterance of a public speech, the epitaphios logos, as well as the performance of sacrifices in honor of those who died in war. This civic ideology shifted emphasis from grief and lament for the dead to praise and glorification first of those who gave their lives for their city and secondly, and more importantly, of the city itself. Despite the fact that fifth-century civic rhetoric involved the heroization of the war dead, private epitaphs still kept their tone of grief. Conversely, in fourth-century Athens, one encounters a less solid picture. A variety of eschatological beliefs, considerable widening of the scope of formulations, and extensive mixture of motifs are now the norm. This shift of emphasis can be attributed to various changes, such as the literary development of the genre of funerary poetry, the new civic ideology, and last but not least, the widening of the social origin of the people who commissioned grave monuments. The pathetic-threnodic element of the archaic epitaphs, which had given its place to the laudatory tone of fifth-century polyandria, was now replaced by a gnomic-consolatory style ‘targeting’ those related to the deceased rather than the deceased per se.62 In the case of CEG 520, the use of a gnomic statement (κοινὸν γὰρ ῥῆμα τόδ’ ἐστὶ βροτοῖς) reinforced this shift in scope by facilitating the ‘opening up’ of the epigram to a fictive audience of future passers-by. The use of χαίρετε as an address to any passer-by aimed at ‘identifying’ the deceased with the passer-by, since the latter would eventually be in a situation similar to that of the former in the future.63 These observations show that the use of χαίρετε would have _____________ 60 61 62 63

See CEG 4; Loraux (1986) 138, 139, 142; Sourvinou-Inwood (1995a) 191-195. See Loraux (1981) 43-46, 100-105; (1982) 27-43; Vernant (1982) 45-76; (1990) 52-58. See Rossi (1999) 33. See Sourvinou-Inwood (1995a) 213, who argued that this sect might have even believed in apotheosis, the end product of continuous metempsychoses. Conversely, apotheosis is only a single aspect of Empedoclean thought, whereas metempsychosis (cf. B 115 DK, B 117 DK) constituted the dominant feature of Empedocles’ beliefs, the one closely associated with current Pythagorean and Orphic ideas. This epitaph may be reflecting just a partial endorsement of Empedoclean doctrine, perhaps embraced by a certain sect. See also Graf and Johnston (2007) 118, 172.

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enabled passers-by to recognize certain eschatological beliefs, with which they could identify themselves. Empedoclean conceptions could very well have belonged to an eschatological set of principles followed by a sect believing in metempsychosis.64 Moreover, Wright65 rightly draws attention to the fact that “Lucian66 quotes the whole line67 as a parting consequent on apotheosis, comparable to the farewell to life in Euripides Phoen. 1453.” 68 This fragment was very popular, and we can conclude that it had been popular as early as the 4th century BCE. We are in no position to know for sure what eschatological overtones were embedded in this epitaph, but it seems plausible to argue that the missing verse, should it have survived, would have supplied us with crucial information concerning the semantic disclosure of the expression εἰς ἀγαθὸν ἐνέποντες, which (within the context of CEG 520) may have a certain philosophical coloring. What follows is a list of relevant expressions from archaic epic: εἰπεῖν εἰς ἀγαθόν (Il. 9.102) μύθοισιν τέρποντο πρὸς ἀλλήλους ἐνέποντες (Il. 11.643) ἀλλ’ εὖ οἱ φάσθαι πυκινὸν ἔπος ἠδ’ ὑποθέσθαι (Il. 11.788) καί οἱ σημαίνειν· ὃ δὲ πείσεται εἰς ἀγαθόν περ (Il. 11.789) τερπέσθην μύθοισι, πρὸς ἀλλήλους ἐνέποντε (Od. 23.301)

The above parallels69 indicate the framework in which the missing verse belongs. This line would certainly have a positive tone, and would –in all probability- contain the correlative adverb τόσον (in response to ὅσον in the previous verse) as well as a finite verb. In this light, ἐς τόσσον μύθοις τερπόμεθ’ ἀσπάσιοι would have been a plausible substitution for the missing pentameter, but since no epigraphical evidence from the very stone is available to us, we do not need to rack our brains with replacement possibilities but rather leave the matter as it stands. _____________ 64

65 66 67 68 69

See Sourvinou-Inwood (1995a) 205. See also Kirk, Raven and Schofield (19832) 314, who compare Empedocles B 112.4 DK with the “greeting with which the deceased initiate of the mystery cults is received (apparently by Persephone) in the ‘golden plates’ of Thurii (dated to the fourth century B.C. and later).” For these tablets, see IG XIV, 641, 1 (line 1), DK 1B18 (=A1 Zuntz). Wright (19952) 265. See Lucian Pro lapsu inter salutandum 2. Empedocles B 112.4 DK (χαίρετ᾽…). Eur. Phoen. 1453: καὶ χαίρετ᾽˙ ἤδη γάρ με περιβάλλει σκότος. This list is far from complete. Its purpose is simply to show that the diction of CEG 520 is traditional.

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The expression ὁρῶ + αὐγήν is attested in the Homeric poems (Il. 16.188: ἐξάγαγε πρὸ φόωσδε καὶ ἠελίου ἴδεν αὐγάς),70 Theognis (426 [West]: μηδ’ ἐσιδεῖν αὐγὰς ὀξέος ἠελίου; 1183-1184 [West]: οὐδένα, Kύρν’, αὐγαὶ φαεσιμβρότου ἠελίοιο / ἄνδρα ἐφορῶσ’, ᾧ μὴ μῶμος ἐπικρέμαται) and Mimnermus (1.8 [West]: οὐδ’ αὐγὰς προσορῶν τέρπεται ἠελίου), but only in the plural (αὐγάς).71 The Doric ἀελίου instead of the Attic ἡλίου (λίπον ἡλίου αὐγάς: IG II2 5239=590 CEG) or the Ionic ἠελίου (ἠελίο λαμπρὸμ φῶς: IG II2 6004=511 CEG), is worth considering. Hansen72 notes that if Doric α is employed more than once in an Attic inscription, then one is entitled to speak of poetic coloring.73 Since, the Doric form ἀελίου is a ‘loner’ in an Attic text, it may well be the case that it has not been used for poetic coloring. Conversely, the use of the singular αὐγήν instead of the plural αὐγάς is well documented in Greek literature earlier than the 4th century BCE,74 but not within the framework of the abovementioned expression. These two deviations from formal practice constitute a covert indication of the effort undertaken by the epitaph’s author to cut the philosophical haughtiness of the Empedoclean backdrop by reapplying it to a ῾simple᾽ citizen. On such a reading, the author of the epigram mixed the light metaphor, typical in a funerary context, with some Empedoclean hints to create an idiosyncratic dictional amalgam. By blending epic-colored funerary imagery with philosophical material and dialectic variants, he was able to fuse into the artificial, often pseudo-epic _____________ 70

71

72

73

74

Il. 8.480-481 (ἥμενοι οὔτ’ αὐγῇς Ὑπερίονος Ἠελίοιο / τέρποντ’ οὔτ’ ἀνέμοισι, βαθὺς δέ τε Tάρταρος ἀμφίς) comes close to the aforementioned expression but is constructed with a different verb altogether. Euripides (Alc. 667, 868 and Hel. 1373) has compound forms of the verb ὁρῶ (εἰσορῶ, προσορῶν, εἰσορᾶν respectively) governing αὐγὰς but without the genitive ἠελίου/ἡλίου; the meaning is however the same (i.e. “to see the light of the sun”, namely “to be alive”). See CEG 576: “α Doricum pro η constanter scriptum est, id quod in titulis Atticis alioquin non fit (α Doricum non nisi singillatim ad colorem poeticum addendum usurpatur).” In this inscription (CEG 576) the constant use of Doric α (ἰφθίμαν, Δαμαινέτου, ἅδε, Kρατίσταν, φίλαν, ἅ) made Kaibel (1879, 26 ad epigramma 77) think that the Dorian Damainetos had married his (nonAthenian) daughter Kratista to the Athenian Archemachos. See Threatte (1980) 131 and Peek (1941a: 25) who shows that Doric α is mixed with η in metrical inscriptions as early as the Archaic Period. This is probably the case with CEG 512 and 520 where Doric α appears only once in each inscription. Compare (CEG 512) Doric ἀρετᾶς in verse 1 with Attic μῆτερ in verse 3, and (CEG 520) Doric ἀελίου with αὐγήν in line 6 and Attic γῆς in line 9. See LSJ s.v. αὐγή.

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language,75 so typical of Greek metrical inscriptions, a purely personal filter. The epitaph may be thus read as an experiment on subliterary composition embodying a confluence of both literary aspirations and religious coloring.

The Chamber(s) of Persephone One of the attestations of the expression ‘chamber(s) of Persephone’ is found in CEG 489, in connection with the death of a certain Glaukiades: τὸς ἀγαθὸς ἔστερξεν Ἄρης, ἐφίλησε δ’ ἔπαινος, | καὶ γήραι νεότης οὐ παρέδωχ’ ὑβρίσαι· | ὧγ καὶ Γ[λ]αυκιάδης δήιος ἀπὸ πατρίδος ἔργων̣ | ἦλθ’ ἐπ[ὶ] πάνδεκτον Φερσεφόνης θάλμον. Ares was fond of the agathoi, praise loved them, and youth did not hand them to old age so that they are insulted. Glaukiades, who was one of them, kept off his fatherland its enemies and went to the all-receiving chamber of Persephone.

The above epigram found in Menidi, in northern Attica, comes from four shards of a marble stele with a relief depicting a man and a woman in dexiosis. Between them stands a boy looking towards the male figure. There are three more shards, which come from the nonextant figures in the relief. It is now in the National Museum in Athens (n. 254). The epitaph consists of two elegiac couplets, which are inscribed one next (not after) to the other, in the following way:76 1…………………………2………………………… 3…………………………4…………………………

Spelling, phraseology and content indicate that this is one of the earliest fourth-century Attic epitaphs, bearing the marks of the clear-cut influence of the polyandria, which dominated sixth- and fifth-century funerary practice for those who have died in combat. In fact, the way the epitaph has been ‘displayed’ on the stele points to a specific interpretive approach. The two elegiac couplets are not placed one after the other but one next to each other. Juxtaposition interrupts linear _____________ 75

76

The same is the case with Ionic metrical inscriptions, which have Ionic η instead of Attic α. See Threatte (1980) 131. See Hansen CEG 489.

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sequence indicating that the two couplets retain something of their individuality, while not losing their cohesion within the framework of the whole composition. By making this observation I do not intend to undermine technical factors, such as the space available to the inscriber determining the way the epitaph should fit on the stone.77 At the same time, I would like to stress my belief that these two aspects, i.e. the interpretive and the technical, are not incompatible. The entire monument constitutes a unity and the text inscribed on it should be analysed within the representational framework it belongs to. In other words, even if space necessitated the juxtaposition of the two elegiac couplets, there was no need to create a clear-cut dichotomy between them. It may well be the case that the author of the epigram has influenced the mise en page of the text within the monument.78 Once this ‘separative’ process is identified, one is then more eager to accept the view that the aforementioned dichotomy was reinforced and highlighted by the way the inscription was ‘presented’ to its audience. The epitaph follows traditional thematic patterns, which are recurrent in epitaphs. Although its first part seems to bear recognizable traces of the polyandria rhetoric of praise for the war dead, a close examination of the epitaph’s diction shows that apart from the word Ἄρης, which is not attested in fourth-century Attic epigrams79 (with the exception of CEG 609.3: ... Ἄρεω]ς ἐν ἀγῶσι δαμέντα), the rest of the epigram’s diction belongs predominantly to the 4th century. In particular, στέργω, φιλέω, ἔπαινος, γήρας, νεότης are not attested in metrical inscriptions dating between the 8th -5th centuries but are amply employed in the 4th. Likewise Φερσεφόνη is used predominantly in the 4th century but only once before that period (CEG 301.3, which is a dedication, not a grave epigram). In Attica Ἅ(ι)δης is frequently employed in grave epigrams antedating the 4th century, but it is only three times attested (CEG 490: [Ó Ô˘Ô Ó Ô˘Ô Ó πο̣λ̣υ̣δέ]γ̣μονι δ’ ἐστὶ παρ’ Ἅιδηι; 591.5: ὦ πολύκλαυθ’ Ἅιδη; 597: βασίλεια Ἀίαο) in fourthcentury inscribed epitaphs from the same area. Δήιος is rarely attested in metrical inscriptions. Only the verbal form δαιώσας is attested in a single fifth-century epigram (CEG 83.2) from Attica. During _____________ 77

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Pace Mylonas (1879, 359), who thinks that verses 1-2 of the epigram have been inscribed on the left and verses 3-4 on the right only “διὰ τὴν οἰκονομίαν τοῦ τόπου.” I would like to thank Marco Fantuzzi for this point. The word Ἄρης is attested three times in fourth-century non-Attic epitaphs (CEG 627.2, 658.4, 694.1) and once (CEG 866.1) in a dedicatory epigram from Astypalaea.

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the entire 4th century there are two more (other than CEG 489) attestations of δήιους (CEG 795.21) and of δηι̣[ώσαντες] (CEG 824.9) in dedicatory inscriptions, the former from Thessaly and the latter from Arcadia. The use of δήιος (= δῄους) in CEG 489 has an elegiac coloring. 80 It is constantly employed by Greek elegiac poets, as the following examples amply show:81 (a) Archilochus 58.7 West: ] τ̣ε̣ δηϊων[....]ρ̣θ̣[, 89.3 West: δηΐων, αὐαίνετ̣[αι δέ, 139.5 West: ]ς ἔντος δηϊοισεμ[; (b) Theognis 552 West: δήιων γάρ σφ’ ἀνδρῶν ἀντιάσειν δοκέω; (c) Tyrtaeus 11.18 West: ἀνδρὸς φεύγοντος δηίῳ ἐν πολέμῳ, 11.30 West: ἦ ξίφει οὐτάζων δήιον ἄνδρ’ ἑλέτω, 12.12 West: καὶ δῄων ὀρέγοιτ’ ἐγγύθεν ἱστάμενος; (d) Solon 29b, 34.5 West: λοξὸν ὀφθαλμοῖς ὁρῶσι πάντες ὥστε δήιον; (e) Mimnermus 14.9 West: οὐ γάρ τις κείνου δῄων ὅτ’ ἀμεινότερος φώς. Likewise, abstract terms like γῆρας and νεότης had been frequently employed by elegiac poets, who had attributed to the former negative epithets, like κακόν (Archilochus 188.2 West, Theognis 1011 West, Mimnermus 4.1 West, Solon 24.10 West), ἀργαλέον (Theognis 1132 West, Mimnermus 1.10, 2.6, 5.5 West), ἀργαλέον καὶ ἄμορφον (Mimnermus 5.5 West), οὐλόμενον (Theognis 272, 768, 1012 West), ὀδυνηρόν (Mimnermus 1.5 West), ῥίγιον (Mimnermus 4.2 West), ἄζηλον (Semonides 1.11 West). In addition to these elegiac overtones, Theognis 797-798 (West) offers an interesting analogy to the first two verses of CEG 489. The two texts run as follows: τοὺς ἀγαθοὺς ἄλλος μάλα μέμφεται, ἄλλος ἐπαινεῖ, τῶν δὲ κακῶν μνήμη γίνεται οὐδεμία. (Theognis 797-798, West) τὸς ἀγαθὸς ἔστερξεν Ἄρης, ἐφίλησε δ’ ἔπαινος, | καὶ γήραι νεότης οὐ παρέδωχ’ ὑβρίσαι· | (CEG 489.1-2)

According to Theognis, the ἀγαθοί will be remembered through blame or praise, whereas the evil ones will be forgotten. The dividing line between the agathoi and the kakoi is dictionally and even metrically drawn by (a) stating what will be the former’s future fate while maintaining what will not be the latter’s, i.e. by using assertive and negative expressions respectively, and (b) exhausting the longer space offered by the hexameter for the former while dedicating the shorter pentameter to the latter. Likewise, the anonymous author of CEG 489 has used positive expressions in the longer hexameter verse and a _____________ 80 81

It also has ‘light’ epic overtones, as the following examples show: δηϊοτής (Il. 3.20), δήϊος (6.481, 7.119). For Iambic and Elegiac poets the numeration and text used is that of West’s (Oxford) edition.

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negative one in the shorter pentameter that follows. Here, there is no antithesis between two groups of people but a more subtle interactive game between climactically used abstract terms. War and praise become the conceptual scaffolding upon which the ensuing antithesis of the pentameter is based. The built-in link between war and praise is efficiently highlighted through the use of love-vocabulary (στέργω – φιλέω are regularly used for humans) that is reflected in the traditional youth-old age motif. The agathoi died young at war, at the best time of their lives, before old age could take hold of them and wear out their strength and beauty. Homer (Il. 22.71-76) and Tyrtaeus (10.21-30 West) are, of course, the loci classici for this motif, but here the anonymous author aims deeper. Before I embark on clarifying the way the aforementioned score of lyric expressions works within this metrical inscription, I would like to briefly dwell on the function of the deceased’s name. Γ[λ]αυκιάδης is no doubt the name of the deceased but it may also have some relevance to the odd expression τὸς ἀγαθὸς ἔστερξεν Ἄρης featuring in the beginning of the epitaph. In a late sixth- or early fifth-century sepulchral epigram from Corcyra (CEG 145), Ares is called χαροπός (grim): σᾶμα τόδε Ἀρνιάδα· χαροπὸς τόνδ’ ὄλε|σεν Ἄρες / βαρνάμενον παρὰ ναυσ|ὶν ἐπ’ Ἀράθθοιο ρhοFαῖσι, / πολλὸ|ν ἀριστεύοντα κατὰ στονόFεσαν ἀFυτάν. According to Ecker,82 who has carefully studied this inscription, the epithet χαροπός is in direct contrast both to the description of the deceased in the two following hexameters and also, one might add, to traditional epithets attributed to Ares. The god of war is typically described as ἀνδρόφονος (manslaying),83 βροτολοιγός (plague of men, bane of men),84 Ἐνυάλιος ἀνδρειφόντης (man-slaying Enyalios),85 μάχλος (wanton, insolent),86 μιαιφόνος (murderous, blood-thirsty),87 ὄβριμος (strong, mighty), 88 φοίνιος/φόνιος (blood-stained, murderous),89 ὠμόφρων (savageminded).90 The epithet χαροπός (grim) is etymologically connected to sight and it is now translated as ‘flashing-eyed’. Latacz91 has argued in _____________ 82 83 84 85 86 87 88 89 90 91

Ecker (1990) 74 n. 151, 76. See Il. 4.441; Hes. Sc. 98. See Il. 5.31= 5.455, 5.518, 5.846, 5.909, 8.349, 11.295, 12.130, 13.298, 13.802, 20.46, 21.421. See Il. 2.651, 7.166=8.264=17.259. See Aesch. Suppl. 635. See Il. 5.31 = 5.455, 5.844, 21.402. See Il. 5.845, 13.444 = 16.613 = 17.529, 13.521, 15.112. See Soph. El. 96; Eur. Phoen. 1006, IA 773. See Eur. El. 1260. Latacz (1966) 42.

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favor of both an early connection of χαροπός and γλαυκός (glaring, glittering menacingly),92 which denoted a specific face-expression, and also a later link between the two words, when they tended to express eye-color. Given the contrast between the flashing-eyed and terrible looking Ares, whose eyesight like the Γοργοῦς ὄμματα makes his enemies freeze, and the brave Arniadas who, as the metonymic wordplay upon his name displays, died in war, one is entitled to see a similar effect in CEG 489. The name Γαυκιάδης can be interpreted within the nexus of secondary functions attributed to Ares, god of war, featuring in the unattested expression τὸς ἀγαθὸς ἔστερξεν Ἄρης that inaugurates this epitaph. Γαυκιάδης, the man with glittering eyes, belongs to the agathoi loved and cherished by Ares, who is also the god whose eyes flash menacingly. This intricate interpretation explains the use of Ares within the framework of a hitherto unattested expression as an effort to balance the lack of any mention of relatives, who have been replaced by Ares and ἔπαινος (praise), in whose figurative ‘family’ Γαυκιάδης belonged. Read against this background, the lyric section of the epitaph is anchored to its overall structure culminating in the imagery of the chambers of Persephone. Lyric motifs mark the content of the epigram as acceptable for cultural memorability, while the language of praise brings together past and present by linking the deceased to a ‘human pantheon’ of well-known and established lyric paradigms. The entire second part of the epitaph (verses 3-4) is introduced by the anaphoric ὧγ, which is highlighted by its emphatic placement in verse-initial position. Moreover, the visual dichotomy between the first and the second part of the epigram is underscored by the juxtaposition of verses 1-2 and verses 3-4, as well as by their metrical analogy (one elegiac couplet next to the other). Iconizing this dichotomy recalls our modern typographical and, now, computer-based means that enable us to reenact semantic differences and subordinated argumentation, such as paragraphisation, use of bold, italic, and underlined characters, font- and letter-size changes, section- and pagebreaks. This iconization93 keys the reader to a specific interpretive note in respect of disclosing the function of anaphoric ὧγ opening the second couplet,94 whose meaning is something like ‘it is of these _____________ 92 93 94

See LfgrE s.v. γλαῦκος [Beck]. On the epigram as an ‘Ikonotext’, see Petrovic (2005) 30-42. The ὧγ καί may serve a function analogous to that of ὅν ποτε/hόν ποτ’ in CEG 27.2 (Attica ca. 540-530). Since ὅν ποτε “suggests a transmission of warrior’s memory simultaneously among his kinship group (drawing on the genealogical aspect) and among his cultural group at large (drawing on the

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agathoi that Glaukiades formed part, Glaukiades who by keeping the enemy out of his fatherland went to the all-receiving chamber of Persephone.’ The πάνδεκτος Φερσεφόνης θάλαμος95 should be interpreted within a framework of both literal and social norms, as signifying a new community Γλαυκιάδης has now been integrated into, the community of the dead. This hapax legomenon in all of Ancient Greek literature96 balances the specific reference to the war dead in the first part of the epigram. Γλαυκιάδης is represented as oscillating between the community of praised young warriors who died for their country and the new community of dead where he now belongs. The expression Φερσεφόνης θάλαμος is not used before the 4th century and seems to have replaced expressions such as δῶμα or δώματα Ἀΐδαο/ᾍδου. One might be tempted to read into this the spread of Eleusinian cult, but things are actually rather blurred. In fact, this might be the by-product of the widespread trend of erecting private monuments for the dead in fourth-century Attica. In sixth- and fifthcentury polyandria the expressions δῶμα or δώματα Ἀΐδαο/Ἅιδου were consonant with epic coloring permeating their diction. We cannot know for certain, because of their scantiness, whether the expression Φερσεφόνης θάλαμος would have been attested in fifth-century private epitaphs. By offering access to cultural memory,97 CEG 489 aims at bridging literary knowledge and current eschatological beliefs. The epitaph deftly encapsulates an individual’s sacrifice for his fatherland by fully exploiting a coherent thematic trajectory of motifs, abstract nouns and diction circulating in lyric poetry. Reading the epitaph’s diction in context, namely in both its physical environment (the grave monument) and its social and historical matrix, is crucial for a further understanding of the function of the entire monument-inscription structure. On the monument one can still see traces of two figures, a man and a woman in dexiosis, and a boy looking towards the man. In fifth-century Athens, dexiosis or hand_____________

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epic phrase)”, as Derderian (2001, 100-101) argues, ὧγ καί can equally mark the interconnection between the two communities of our epitaph, that of the ἀγαθοί who died in action and that of the dead who flock the chambers of Persephone. For the notion of the θάλαμοι of the dead, cf. the following parallels from fifth century tragedy: Aesch. Pers. 624: σύ τε πέμπε χοὰς θαλάμους ὕπο γῆς; Soph. Ant. 804-805: τὸν παγκοίτην ὅθ’ ὁρῶ θάλαμον / τήνδ’ Ἀντιγόνην ἀνύτουσαν, 946-947: κρυπτομένα δ’ ἐν τυμβ-/ ήρει θαλάμῳ κατεζεύχθη; Eur. Suppl. 1022: Φερσεφόνης ἥξω θαλάμους; Her. 807-808: ὃς γᾶς ἐξέβας θαλάμων / Πλούτωνος δῶμα λιπὼν νέρτερον. See the supplement of LSJ s.v. πανδέκτης. See Derderian (2001) 95 n. 122.

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shaking visually highlights the profound integration of the individual in the polis-system and stands for democratic solidarity.98 Conversely, in fourth-century Athens the appearance of the dexiosis motif shows that fifth-century practice has not been abandoned but has rather followed a new course. Stronger differentiation of human characteristics and a new interest in ‘personalized’ themes such as women, family and personal feelings displays a significant change of scope. Fourthcentury Athenian grave-reliefs are built in the period between the end of the Peloponnesian War and the Gräberluxusverbot of Demetrius of Phaleron, when a growing tension between household and state (a tension which had begun from the last quarter of the previous century) can be witnessed. This being the case, the dexiosis, expressing a personal, individualized farewell scene highlighting Γαυκιάδης in family terms, should be treated as the social matrix upon which the epitaph must be intepreted. The epigram’s lyric diction builds upon the familiar love-war antithesis. Love vocabulary (such as στέργω and φιλέω attested in the first line of the inscription) and ἀπείργειν (to shut somebody out of something, to keep away) may have sexual or erotic and military connotations.99 These understatements blend in quite well with Γαυκιάδης, an ἀνήρ ἀγαθός, whose excellence in war is a kind of love for his fatherland from which he has shut out the enemy, only to be received in the chamber of Persephone. The opposition between shutting out the enemy and being received in the chamber of Persephone (θάλαμος is another word with latent erotic connotations as it also refers to the wedding chamber) shows that ‘love and death’ vocabulary100 has been mixed in order to suggest the transfer and reapplication of a theme normally used for the oikos to the fatherland. The country is ‘treated’ as a parthenos, since its enemies are kept out of its borders in the manner that the parthenos has kept at a distance all lovers. Glaukiades has been eventually received to the chamber of Hades’ concubine, the almighty Persephone. The entire composition elaborately displays how fifth-century ideals, such as an individual’s sacrifice of his life for his fatherland, have being fused with fourth-century cultural politics, when the importance of the family element steadily grows. The household-oriented imagery denoted both by the sculpted _____________ 98 99 100

See Breuer (1995) 101. See e.g. Aesch. Sept. 471: πόλεως ἀπείργειν τῆσδε δούλιον ζυγόν. For the link between love and war in Greek culture, see Thornton (1997) 2331. For the use of military vocabulary in a Sapphic erotic context, see Rissman (1983).

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farewell scene (with father, mother and son) and by the parthenos imagery speak for the progressive limitation of preferred fifth-century motifs which are now re-oriented towards more personal aspects of life. In another two-verse private epitaph (CEG 510), Persephone’s chamber keeps the deceased Phanagora: (i) Φιλοστράτη Φίλωνος. (ii) Φίλων Kαλλίπο | Aἰξωνεύς. (iii) ἐνθάδε τὴν πάσης ἀρετῆς ἐπὶ τέρμα μολο̃σαν| Φαναγόραν κατέχει Φερσεφόνης θάλαμος. (iv) Ἀλκιμάχη | Kαλλιμάχου | Ἀναγυρασίο[υ].

4

(i) Philostrate, daughter of Philon. (ii) Philon, son of Kallipos, from Aixone. (iii) In this place, the chamber of Persephone holds Phanagora who arrived at the peak/end of all arete. (iv) Alkimache, daughter of Kallimachos, from Anagyrous.

The two-verse epitaph (3-4) containing a brief commemoration of Phanagora is placed between the extra metrum names of some of her relatives. It is inscribed on a marble stele with an anthemion, which is truncated on its head. It was found somewhere between Piraeus and the port Phoron, facing the island of Salamis. It is now in the museum of Leiden.101 As in the previous epitaph, the chamber of Persephone stands for the place of the deceased’s arrival. The use of a verb of motion (μολο̃σαν) is natural,102 since it forms integral part of the wellestablished theme of the road towards virtue. This road being long and steep, like the road of Arete followed by Heracles, requires strenuous effort and toil, if one intends to arrive at its end.103 This is a typical motif in early Greek thought with abundant parallels in literary texts of the archaic and classical period. I offer the following list of relevants passages: 1. Hes. Works and Days 289-291: τῆς δ’ ἀρετῆς ἱδρῶτα θεοὶ προπάροιθεν ἔθηκαν / ἀθάνατοι· μακρὸς δὲ καὶ ὄρθιος οἶμος ἐς αὐτὴν / καὶ τρηχὺς τὸ πρῶτον· ἐπὴν δ’ εἰς ἄκρον ἵκηται 2. Sem. 1.11-12: φθάνει δὲ τὸν μὲν γῆρας ἄζηλον λαβὸν / πρὶν τέρμ’ ἵκηται, …

_____________ 101 102 103

For further bibliography on this inscription, see Hansen CEG 510. See also ἦλθ᾽ ἐπ[ὶ] πάνδεκτον Φερσεφόνης θάλμον (CEG 489). See Skiadas (1967) 77.

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Chapter 2 3. Sim. 8.11-13: ὡς χρόνος ἔσθ’ ἥβης καὶ βιότου ὀλίγος / θνητοῖς. ἀλλὰ σὺ ταῦτα μαθὼν βιότου ποτὶ τέρμα / ψυχῇ τῶν ἀγαθῶν τλῆθι χαριζόμενος 4. Tyrt. 14: πρὶν ἀρετῆς πελάσαι τέρμασιν ἢ θανάτου 5. Theogn. 1187-1188: οὔτις ἄποινα διδοὺς θάνατον φύγοι οὐδὲ βαρεῖαν / δυστυχίην, εἰ μὴ μοῖρ’ ἐπὶ τέρμα βάλοι 6. Aesch. fr. 362.2 (TrGF 3, Radt): θνῄσκει τις, εἰ μὴ τέρμα συντρέχει βίου 7. Soph. OT 1529-1530: ... πρὶν ἂν / τέρμα τοῦ βίου περάσῃ μηδὲν ἀλγεινὸν παθών 8. Eur. Alc. 643: ὃς τηλικόσδ᾽ ὢν κἀπὶ τέρμ᾽ ἥκων βίου 9. Xen. SC 10.1: ἐπὶ γὰρ τῷ τέρματι τοῦ βίου τὴν κρίσιν τῆς γεροντίας προσθεὶς ἐποίησε μηδὲ ἐν τῷ γήρᾳ ἀμελεῖσθαι τὴν καλοκἀγαθίαν.

This theme becomes also common in funerary epigrams, mainly in Attica but also in various other places of the Greek-speaking world: (a) Attic epitaphs: CEG 513.4 (ἐνθάδε τὴν πάσης ἀρετῆς ἐπὶ τέρ[μα μολο̃]σαν), CEG 527.2 (ἐνθάδε τὸν πάσης ἀρετῆς ἐπὶ τ|έρμα μολόντα |), CEG 586.5 (Δαιοκράτης [sic] κοινοῦ [sic] τέρμα ἐπέρησε βίου |), CEG 606.3 (... γήρως τέρμα μολὼν πρὸς ἄκρον, |), CEG 609.1 ([Ó Ô˘Ô Ó Ô˘Ô Ó Ô]ατο π̣ὸς τέρμα κελε̣θο ´). (b) Non-Attic epitaphs: CEG 630.1 from Boeotia (οὐκ ἔστ’ οὐδὲν τέρμα βίου θνητῶν ἐπινοίας |), CEG 651.2 from Opuntian Locri (πατρίδος ἀκρόπολιν τέρμ’ ἔλαβεν βιότου), CEG 692.1-2 from Rhodes (τόνδε ποτ’ Ἀρχίπολιν δαίμων ἐπὶ τέρματα πάσης / προσβαίνοντ’ ἀρετῆς ...).104 In the light of such widespread diffusion, both in literary texts and on grave-epigrams, the quest for the provenance of the aforementioned expression seems off the mark. In fact, this is a subdivision of a larger motif, i.e. that of the “comparison of life to a journey along a road leading to death.” 105 On the other hand, the fact that this motif begins to be used in fourth-century epitaphs (mainly in Attica) but not before this period consitutes a covert indication that the influence of collections of epigrams (in which Sim. 8.11-13 and Theogn. 1187-1188 may have belonged) and Attic tragedy have, in all probability, played an important role.106 This typical motif acquires a new inner dynamic triggered by its juxtaposition to and combination with the theme of Persephone’s chamber, which also recurs in fourth-century Attic epitaphs. In a previous epigram (CEG 489), where the imagery was em_____________ 104 105

106

See Pircher (1979) 24-26. See Lattimore (1942) 169, who thinks that this metaphor has become a commonplace ever since but is not frequently attested in ancient inscriptions. Unfortunately he fails to examine the expression ἐπὶ τέρμα μολόντα/μολο̃σαν. On the influence of tragic vocabulary on the diction of fourth-century Attic epitaphs, see chapter 4.

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ployed in reference to a male citizen (Glaukiades), it was the interplay between erotic and military vocabulary that enhanced the antithesis between life and death. In this case, the antithesis is based on blurring the boundaries between the bridal aspect of a woman’s life and her arrival at the house of the dead. The chamber of Persephone is a well-established metaphor of Euripidean origin. In the Suppliants (1022), Euripides employs the expression Περσεφόνης ἥκω θαλάμους to refer to the Underworld107 and during the 4th century this becomes a common motif in Attic grave epigrams. The influence of the Great Mysteries at Eleusis must be a determining factor that explains the wide and systematic use of this metaphor in Attic sepulchral epigrams. The myth of Persephone with her abduction by Hades and her transfer to the Underworld, Demeter’s sorrowful peregrination and the gods’ decision to allow Persephone to stay six months in the Underworld and six months on earth furnished popular imagination with a wealth of motifs that could be put to good use in funerary epigrams, especially those dedicated to women. For females, the use of the expression Περσεφόνης θάλαμος would have been of special value, for it would have helped the reader of the inscription visualize, on the one hand, the (bridal) chamber a married woman possessed when she was alive, and on the other hand, the new, dark and gloomy, abode she dwells in after her death. At the same time, the well-known myth of Persephone who stays for half of the year in the Underworld and half of the year on the face of the earth, facilitates audience/readership reception. Περσεφόνης θάλαμος is a specific interpretive regulation shaping Phanagora’s (the name of the deceased) description through the epitaph. A possible link between the deceased’s name (Φαναγόρα < φάος + ἀγείρω: to collect/gather light) and the Eleusinian cult should not be lightly excluded. The choice of the expression Persephone’s chamber may have been, on a secondary level, promoted by an effort to create a link between Phanagora’s name, her dictional identity, and the epitaph itself. An invariable part of the whole Eleusinian cult was “the annual torchlight procession of the initiates along the Sacred Way from Athens to Eleusis. The use of torches, and light in general, was an important part of the Eleusinian ritual. Apart from the παννυχίς of torch-bearing ini_____________ 107

Skiadas (1967) 78 n. 4. Skiadas argues that Euripides may have invented the metaphor, for as he observes “neither does AP 7.489 (δέξατο Περσεφόνης κυάνεος θάλαμος) belong to Sappho nor AP 7.507b (κατέβην τὸν ἄφυκτον / ... ξανθῆς Περσεφόνης θάλαμον) to Simonides.” Skiadas (1967, 78 n. 5) plausibly argues that the use of θάλαμος designating the realm of the dead is Aeschylean (Pers. 624: θαλάμους ὕπο γῆς).

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tiates at the sanctuary of Demeter and Kore, the climactic moment of the mystic ceremony was characterized by an abundance of light.” 108 The torchlight procession reenacts on the level of cult an important phase of the myth, i.e. Demeter’s vain wandering in search of her abducted daughter. Likewise, the abundance of light the initiates experienced when the ἱεροφάντης came out from the Telesterion in Eleusis represented the reenactment of another phase of the myth, namely the return of Persephone from the Underworld (either with Hekate or Persephone herself holding torches).109 Phanagora, like the torchbearers marching in the Sacred Way arrived at the end of the road of all arete, only to be held by the chamber of Persephone. Interestingly enough, in Sophocles’ OC 89, Oedipus’ arrival at Colonus is likened to the toilsome peregrination of Demeter and the very wording of the passage (ἐλθόντι χώραν τερμίαν) bears striking similarities to the ἐπὶ τέρμα μολο̃σαν expression attested in those grave epigrams employing the metaphor of the road of virtue. Likewise, one could argue that Phanagora (whose name means “gathering, collecting light”) and her toilsome peregrination on the road of ἀρετή reached the end (τέρμα), when she descended into the house of Persephone.110 In IG II2 6004=CEG 511, the light-metaphor is juxtaposed to the imagery of Persephone’s chamber, which is here designated as Persephone’s house: (i) Nικόβολος Mυν|νίχο Eἰτεαῖος. (ii) σῆς ἀρετῆς ἕστηκεν ἐν Ἑλλάδι | πλεῖστα τρόπαια ἔν τε ἀνδρῶν | ψυχαῖς, οἷος ἐὼν ἔλιπες, Nικόβ|ολε, ἠελίο λαμπρὸμ φῶς, Περσεφ|όνης δὲ δ[ῶμ]α ποθεινὸς ἐὼν σοῖ|[σι φίλο]ις κατέβας. (i) Nikobolos, son of Mynnichos, an Eitean. (ii) Many trophies of your virtue are set both in Greece and also in men’s souls. Being such a man you left behind,

_____________ 108 109 110

Markantonatos (2002) 199. See Parisinou (2000) 60-71, 85-88, 93-96, 124-126, 136-150 with abundant bibliography. See Chantraine, Dict. Étym. s.v. φαίνω. Philippson (1944) 69-89 argued that in Thessaly the goddesses Demeter and Pheraia (Φεραία) were one and the same. Moreover, Parisinou (2000, 89) refers to the view of Daffa-Nikonanou (1973, 29) that Φεραία was also known by the epithet Φωσφόρος, although this epithet does not appear in inscriptions before the 2nd century. See also Daffa-Nikonanou (1973) 29; Richardson (1974) 169; Parisinou (2000) 89. Hecate was also called Ἀμφίπυρος, Δᾳδοῦχος, Δαιδοφόρος, Πυρφόρος, Φαεσφωρίη. See also Markantonatos (2002) 203 n. 57 with Dover’s interesting observation that it is possible that the Chorus of the Sophoclean OC represented people who had been initiated at Eleusis.

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Nikobolos, the bright light of the sun, and to Persephone’s house you descended, being longed for by your friends.

Apart from the light imagery (ἠελίο λαμπρὸμ φῶς), which I have already examined, the above grave epigram makes use of the motif of Persephone’s chamber in the form of Persephone’s house (Περσεφόνης ... δῶμα ... κατέβας). The typical expression Περσεφόνης θάλαμον/θαλάμους/θαλάμων undergoes significant changes. The first is the obvious shift from θάλαμος to δῶμα. The use of diction pertaining to the same semantical field must be evaluated against the backdrop of the reappropriation of tragic material to produce nuances of meaning. What has caused the use of the word δῶμα together with the genitive Περσεφόνης? The question is well justified, if we bear in mind that this is the only attestation of this expression in fourth-century Attic grave epigrams. Gender-considerations must be excluded, for the Περσεφόνης θάλαμος formula is used for both men and women alike.111 This time though the verb κατέβας, another hapax within the framework of the Περσεφόνης θάλαμος formula, builds a matrix of complementary features constituting integral part of the author’s technique of formulaic splitting.112 This seems to be a rather personal mannerism, for it is used consistently within a limited space. Attesting to this is the formulaic expression ἡλίου/ἠελίου φάος/φῶς + λείπω, which has been bisected by the insertion of a prima facie redundant apostrophe to the deceased that is textually embedded in the middle of the epitaph, despite the fact that the dead man’s name is clearly stated extra metrum on the stone, inscribed above the grave epigram. The same observation applies mutatis mutandis to the formula κατέχει Περσεφόνης θάλαμος. The desire to place the former almost at verse-terminal position and the latter at verse-initial has resulted in the need to use δῶμα instead of θάλαμος, as the latter is regularly used at a pentameter’s verse end, not at its beginning. This observation explains the use of δῶμα but not the desire to disjoin the words Περσεφόνης and θάλαμος and to detach them even more from their verbal accompaniment, which is curtailed until the verse end (κατέβας). The separation between the words Περσεφόνης and θάλαμος may have been caused by the desire to juxtapose the name of Persephone with the formula ἠελίο λαμπρὸμ φῶς. This juxtaposition _____________ 111 112

See CEG 489, CEG 545 (without Φερσεφόνης), CEG 593. The verbs used for this expression are (κατ)έχει/κατέχε (CEG 510, 513, 563, 593), οἴχεται/ᾤχου (CEG 545, 575), ἦλθε (CEG 489), στείχω (CEG 592), κεῖνται (CEG 571), χάρις ἐστίν (CEG 603).

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aims at highlighting the antithesis between life and death. Nikobolos left the bright light of the sun, a synonym of life, and descended to the house of Persephone, a symbol of darkness and death. The opposition is further reinforced by the use of the participial constructions οἷος ἐών and ποθεινὸς ἐὼν σοῖ|[σι φίλο]ις, which make an encomiastic point and add a nostalgic color to the commemoration of the deceased respectively. The former looks back at the physical and metaphorical trophies of Nikobolos’ virtue, whereas the latter recalls the longing, regret and desire left in his friends’ hearts now that he has descended into the realm of the dead. By infixing the phrase ποθεινὸς ἐὼν σοῖ[σι φίλο]ις between Περσεφόνης δ[ῶμ]α and κατέβας, the author of the epigram was able to postpone the verbal idea (κατέβας) until the very end of the verse that coincides with the epitaph’s completion. In this light, one can see how the author of the inscription changed the wording and placement of the traditional metaphor of Persephone’s chamber. By adopting the technique of formulaic splitting, he was able to juxtapose the two key metaphors employed in the epitaph and so dramatically underscore the antithesis between life and death. In CEG 513, Persephone’s chamber holds Mnesarete, who has left behind her whole family: (i) Mνησαρέτη Σωκράτος. (ii) ἥδε πόσιν τ’ ἔλιπεν καὶ ἀδελφὸς μητρί τε πένθος καὶ τέκνον μεγάλης τε ἀρετῆς εὔκλεαν ἀγήρω. (iii) ἐνθάδε τὴμ πάσης ἀρετῆς ἐπὶ τέρ[μα μολο̃]σαν Mνησαρέτηγ κατέχε Φερσεφόνης θλαμος.

4

(i) Mnesarete, daughter of Socrates. (ii) This woman left behind her husband and her brothers and mourning for her mother and (she also left behind) her child and undecaying good reputation of her great virtue. (iii) In this place, Persephone’s chamber holds Mnesarete, who arrived at the end of all virtue.

The second elegiac couplet (ἐνθάδε ... θλαμος) is identical with Phanagora’s epitaph (CEG 510). In this case, the formulaic expression ἀρετῆς ἐπὶ τέρ[μα μολο̃]σαν blends in effectively with the deceased’s name Mνησαρέτη.113 In Phanagora’s inscription I have suggested that the use of one form of imagery instead of another may have been in_____________ 113

On the road-metaphor, see Becker (1937). On the pun on Mnesarete’s name, see Fantuzzi (2008).

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fluenced, among other things, by an effort to create a link between the individual and the use of typical motifs. By aiming at a confluence of personal elements of the deceased’s life with traditional patterns employed in funerary epigrams or poetry in general, the author of the epitaph was able to produce a fascinating combination. Trying to win a readership was not an easy task. The versifier of the grave epigram had to invent ways in order to lump together in a limited space a reference to the death of a specific individual with the use of well-known poetic topics, which would be easily recognizable by any potential reader. CEG 513 is exemplary in respect of the aforementioned combination of a personal tone with traditional expressions. In fact, the first couplet (ἥδε πόσιν τ’ ἔλιπεν καὶ ἀδελφὸς μητρί τε πένθος / καὶ τέκνον μεγάλης τε ἀρετῆς εὔκλεαν ἀγήρω) informs the ‘reader’ of the particulars of Mnesarete’s life. There is no mention of how she died, only of whom and what she left behind. The so-called ‘nähere Angabe’ are here mixed in a rather awkward way. The deceased’s mother is the only one who does not appear in the accusative. Instead, the author of the inscription has chosen the word πένθος and in the next verse εὔκλεαν ἀγήρω, which he has paratactically linked to the members of Mnesarete’s family (εὔκλεαν ἀγήρω belongs to standard praising diction114 and is used in funerary literature - both laments and funeral orations). By resorting to a zeugmatic use of the verb λείπειν, the author is able to create an amalgam of two distinct, but equally typical, expressions: (A1) leaving behind dear ones, and (A2) leaving pain and suffering to their hearts (in both cases λείπειν is literally, not metaphorically used); (B) leaving behind glory as a ‘metaphorical’ part of the dead individual, who is destined to survive Mnesarete together with other members of her family. Both verses begin with (A) and are completed with (B). This creates a certain syntactical clumsiness115 but the effect is noteworthy. This rebus-like syntax playing on the violation of dictional expectations paves the way for attracting the attention of a future passer-by, since it indulges in a game with generic typology and unexpected twists in phrasing. _____________ 114 115

See e.g. Pind. Pyth. 2.52: κῦδος ἀγήραον. The author could very well have avoided syntactical clumsiness (Fantuzzi [2008] calls it ‘harsh zeugma’), if he wanted to express only the idea of ‘leaving mourning and undecaying good reputation of her virtue to her relatives.’ In that case he could have written πόσει, ἀδελφοῖς, τέκνωι instead of πόσιν, ἀδελφός, τέκνον without changing the meter.

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Having exploited syntactical liberty in the first hexametric couplet where arete is presented “as a guarantee for public survival”,116 the anonymous author turns now to a heavily formulaic elegiac distich, which he makes fit to Mnes-arete’s name. Remembering or recalling (μνησ-) one’s virtue (ἀρετή) is indeed a suitable name for funerary poetry, the more so since arete constitutes a standard fourthcentury ideal creeping up quite often in Attic private epigrams. Mnesarete’s arete has been already mentioned in the first couplet, where it was modified by the epithet μεγάλη (μεγάλης ἀρετῆς), which in its turn ties up quite effectively with πάσης ἀρετῆς. In this way, arete, which is ‘innate’ in the deceased’s name, becomes the unifying motif of the entire inscription, since it appears in some form or other in all three parts (Mνησαρέτη, μεγάλης τε ἀρετῆς, πάσης ἀρετῆς).117 In CEG 571, the imagery concerning Persephone’s chamber is enriched by the juxtaposition of Persephone and Pluton in the Underworld.118 (i) _Mέλιττα¥ Ἀπολλοδώρου | ἰσοτελοῦ θυγάτηρ | (ii) Mέλιττα | (iii) τίτθη. (iv) ἐνθάδε τὴν χρηστὴν τ̣ί[̣ τθ]ην κατὰ γαῖα καλύπτ|ει Ἱπποστράτης, καὶ νῦν π[ο]θ̣εῖ σε. καὶ ζῶσάν σ’ ἐφίλ|ουν, τίτθη, καὶ νῦν σ’ ἔτι τιμῶ 4 οὖσαν καὶ κατὰ γῆς, | καὶ τιμήσω σε ἄχρι ἂν ζῶ. οἶδα δὲ σοὶ ὅτι καὶ κατὰ [γ]|ῆς, εἴπερ χρηστοῖς γέρας ἐ̣στίν, πρώτει σοι τι̣[μα]|ί, τίτθη, παρὰ Φερσεφόνει Πλούτωνί τε κεῖνται. (i) Melitta, daughter of Apollodorus, an isoteles. (ii) Melitta. (iii) The nurse. (iv) Here the earth below covers the worthy nurse of Hippostrate, who now longs for you. As long as I was alive I loved you, nurse, and now I still honor you, though you are below the earth, and I will honor you as long as I live.

_____________ 116 117

118

Fantuzzi (2008). See Fantuzzi (2008), who argues that “the second distich focuses on mortal life as fulfilment of complete ‘virtue’ qua an individual feature concerning the prior existence of the deceased.” Fantuzzi (2008) makes the interesting suggestion that the versifier of CEG 513 “reshaped the conventional funerary model exemplified by CEG 527 in order to include the survival of the renown for virtue as an appreciable element of the relevance of Mnesarete’s death for his family and society.” Both women are holding objects in their right hands. Unfortunately these objects are not discernible because of the condition of the relief. As far as the little girl is concerned, a flower (Marshall) or a doll (Smith) has been suggested. Daux (1972, 534-535) has rejected Clairmont’s suggestion (1970, 96) that both women are holding birds. The matter is hard to decide, but the answer to this question is significant for the interpretation of the epigram.

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I know that even below the earth, if there is indeed a reward for the worthy ones, the first and foremost honors, nurse, shall be yours, next to Persephone and Pluto.119

Both the extra metrum part and the epigram have been inscribed on a marble stele with a pediment and a relief. The relief represents a seated woman (the nurse Melitta) on the left and a standing little girl (Hippostrate) on the right. Both of them are stretching their right hands. The girl is definitely holding something (flower, doll, or bird according to different suggestions) and the same may be true for the nurse. Part (i) of the inscription has been carved between the pediment and the relief with letters of a bigger size than those used in the epitaph. Part (ii) has been carved on the space provided within the relief above the head of the little girl and part (iii) below the relief, exactly under the depiction of the seated nurse. Part (iv) has been carved below the relief and part (iii) of the inscription. It is plausible that the inscription was composed by Hippostrate who laments the death of her beloved nurse. The nurse is designated in the extra metrum part as the daughter of Apollodorus, who was an ἰσοτελής. The ἰσοτελεῖς occupied a middle position between the μέτοικοι and the citizens in Athenian society.120 The house/chamber of Persephone is not expressed via the typical Περσεφόνης θάλαμος but through παρὰ Φερσεφόνει Πλούτωνί τε, a unique juxtaposition within the entire corpus of Greek metrical inscriptions dating from the 8th to the end of the 4th century BCE. In fact, the very name Πλούτων is never attested in any Greek metrical inscription to the end of the 4th century. On the other hand, Pluto (< πλοῦτος: ‘Wealth’) representing the beneficial side of Hades was worshipped in various _____________ 119

120

Clairmont’s interpretation of the epigram is clearly wrong. He thinks that Hippostrate is the mother of Melitta and that the nurse is not named. Cf. Daux (1972) 532-534; Hansen ad CEG 571. I agree with Hansen, who thinks (following Kaibel 1878, 48, p. 17: ‘Nutricem Hippostrate deflet vulgaribus epigrammatum sententiis verbisque abutens’) that the epigram has clearly been written by Hippostrate herself (Hansen, CEG 571, p. 67: ‘Epigramma manifeste, ut mihi quidem videtur, a puella Hippostrata conscriptum est). Needless to say, Hippostrate is now a fully-grown woman, not a girl, but she (quite understandably) will always remember Melitta as her nurse. Moreover, Clairmont undervalues the literary value of the epigram and even speaks of “a definitely mediocre creation, which is, at best, touching, but completely lacks any poetic feeling” (1970, 96). I strongly disagree with such statements. See also Daux (1972) 534. See Vestergaard (2000) 83 and my comments on CEG 595. On isoteleis, see Thalheim, RE s.v. ‘Ἰσοτελεῖς’.

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places such as Knidos, Eleusis, Ephesos, Mytilene and Sparta.121 According to inscriptional evidence,122 Pluto and his wife Persephone or Kore were worshipped together and “at Eleusis, they were also known as Theos and Thea.” 123 At the advent of the 5th century and under the growing influence of Eleusinian cult, Hades gave way to Pluto, who symbolized agricultural wealth and was not any more the violent abductor of Kore.124 The cornucopia that the positive side of Hades (Pluto) stood for is associated with Demeter and Kore, who were used “as metonyms of corn and flour.” 125 Under these programmatic religious parameters, it becomes evident that the aforementioned hapax should not be examined in isolation from its context, both internal (the language of the inscription) and external (the social and religious framework of the period). As far as the external context is concerned, the fame of the Great Mysteries (Mεγάλα Mυστήρια) at Eleusis should not mislead our research. There were other well-known festivals, much older in fact than the Eleusinian. The Thesmophoria constituted an ancient festival with a remarkable diffusion in the Greek world “from Sicily to Asia Minor and from Cyrene to Pantikapaion.” 126 Moreover, as the following analysis will amply show, the Hippostrate inscription shares common features with the Homeric Hymn to Demeter, which reflects the festival of the Thesmophoria, not that of the Great Mysteries at Eleusis.127 It is true that the Hippostrate inscription has been dated around the middle of the 4th century BCE, when the Great Mysteries at Eleusis had become an inseparable part of Athenian religious life. Conversely, this does not prove that the inscription reflects elements known from Eleusinian cultic practice, it only renders it possible. On the other hand, the nursing element in the inscription (Melitta is a τίτθη), which also forms “the centrepiece of the Hymn”,128 mirrors the Thesmophoria, a festival concerned with fertility and growth, “where the theme of nurturing is fundamental.” 129 One is therefore tempted to examine if and to what extent motifs pertaining to the essential, for the Thesmo_____________ 121 122 123 124 125 126 127 128 129

See Hudson-Williams, OCD s.v. ‘Hades’. IG II2 1672 line 182; IG II2 4751; CEG 571. See Hudson-Williams, OCD s.v. ‘Hades’. See Vermeule (1979) 37. See Burkert (1985) 159, who cites Nilsson (1951-1960) 463, Kérenyi (1962) 124 ff., (1967) 131 ff. See Clinton (1992) 29. Clinton (1992) 29-37 offers the best discussion of this issue. Parker (1991) 9. Clinton (1992) 31.

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phoria, Kourotrophos aspect of Demeter are reflected or alluded to in the Hippostrate inscription, the more so since it constitutes an expression of the personal beliefs of a specific individual. Our starting point is of course the catalectic reference to Persephone and Pluto, which establishes the basis for our examination. Along this interpretive line, the deceased’s name and profession as well as her relation to Hippostrate seem to belong to the same nexus of associations emanating from the myth of Demeter and Kore. In particular, the deceased was a nurse (τίτθη), whose name was Mέλιττα. Both her name and profession show an intricate connection to mythical elements attested in the Homeric Hymn to Demeter. Demeter has been disguised into an old nurse (Homeric Hymn to Demeter [2] 101: γρηῒ παλαιγενέϊ ἐναλίγκιος, 142: καλὰ τιθηνοίμην), who will, in the course of the hymn, raise Demophon. References to nurses in connection with Demeter are also attested in other parts of the hymn (103: οἷαί τε τροφοί εἰσι θεμιστοπόλων βασιλήων, 291: χειρότεραι γὰρ δή μιν ἔχον τροφοὶ ἠδὲ τιθῆναι) and nursing in genereal is one of its fundamental elements. “Demophon”, as it has been rightly observed, “does not gain immortality, but he does become the θρεπτός of the divine nurse, and men will receive the favour of the goddesses, if they will only perform the necessary sacrifices and pay them the gifts which they are due (Dem. 273-4; Cf. 367-9).” 130 The symbolic, figurative adoption of mortals by the divine nurses is, therefore, a theme of paramount importance not only for the Homeric Hymn to Demeter, but also for the Thesmophoria at large. The nursing of Demophon by Demeter in the hymn mirrors the future nursing of mankind.131 In the Hippostrate inscription, the deceased’s profession, which also denotes her relation to Hippostrate, author of the inscription, is repeated four times: once in the extra metrum part, and three more times within the actual metrical text. Four attestations within a whole of seven lines is so noteworthy a feature that one is tempted to search for an explanation other than random distribution. Moreover, the nurse’s very name bears a striking similarity to a nexus of associations involving both Demeter and Kore. In the Homeric Hymn to Demeter one of the Oceanids, dancing together with Persephone when Hades abducted her, was called Mελίτη, _____________ 130 131

Richardson (1974) 29. The nursing feature pertaining to the core of the Thesmophoria will be later on ‘transferred’ to the Great Mysteries at Eleusis, when “as creators and sponsors of a new festival, they [Demeter and Kore] will put their age-old nursing powers to new use, in nursing their cult in the time to come – a role which Sophocles picks out for praise in Oedipus at Colonus: οὗ Πότνιαι σεμνὰ τιθηνοῦνται τέλη θνατοῖσιν (OC 1050).” See Clinton (1992) 37.

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who according to Il. 18.42 and Th. 247 was a Nereid. The same name also designated both the Attic deme of Melite and a local heroine who was loved by Heracles when he was exiled in her country. It was there that the great hero was initiated to the Lesser Mysteries.132 In addition, Demeter’s priestesses were called μέλισσαι and the same is the case with the legitimate wives who participated in the Thesmophoria.133 Persephone herself was also called Mελιτώδης.134 The Thesmophoria were celebrated in the beginning of autumn and were dedicated to Demeter. In contrast to the Adonia, a festival dedicated to Aphrodite, in the women-oriented Thesmophoria only legitimate, married wives were allowed to participate. Slaves, metics, foreigners, concubines and courtesans were all excluded. The festival lasted three days during which women abstained from any sexual activity, modeling their behavior on Demeter as depicted in the relevant Homeric Hymn, who constituted the mythical paragon of mother and nurse, and whose old age deprived her of any sexual gifts or erotic connotations. The women who participated in the Thesmophoria were called Mέλισσαι (Bees), since they ritually inherited all the typical characteristics of bees. They were the perfect wives and showed aversion to seduction and dislike of perfumes, the symbolic manifestation of love and sexual attraction. These women-bees of Demeter were also mothers bearing legitimate children.135 In this way they constituted models of σωφροσύνη and ἀρετή guaranteeing the survival of the οἶκος.136 It is their motherhood and their loyalty to their husbands that the Thesmophoria celebrate on a ritual level through the reenactment of the myth of Demeter and Kore, as narrated in the Homeric Hymn to Demeter. This piece of evidence shows that Hippostrate, as author of the inscription, has deliberately tried to create a link between the deceased’s name and profession on the one hand and the myth of Demeter and Kore as attested in the Homeric Hymn to Demeter on the other. Accordingly, the phrase παρὰ Φερσεφόνει Πλούτωνί τε κεῖνται is not an isolated expression pertaining to death, but blends in well with an entire nexus of references and associations pointing at the Thesmophoria. _____________ 132 133

134 135 136

See schol. Ar. Ran. 501; Richardson (1974) 288; RE 15.540 ff. See Callim. Hymn. 2.110 ff.; Apollodorus FGrHist 244 F 89; Porph. On the Cave of the Nymphs 18; schol. Pind. Pyth. 4.106a; schol. Theocr. 15.94; Richardson (1974) 288; RE 15.525 ff. For the bee in Greek Mythology, see Cook (1895) 1-24. See Detienne (1972) 154-157; Loraux (2003) 27. Loraux (1981) 109.

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This kind of reasoning is further reinforced by other features, which also belong to the aforementioned context. Along theses lines, the motif of receiving due honors constitutes a striking example. It is repeated three times within the Hippostrate inscription, both in verbal and nominal form. It is first appropriately embedded in a pair of polar opposites, typical for lament poetry, such as life vs death and past vs present: καὶ ζῶσάν σ’ ἐφίλ|ουν, τίτθη, καὶ νῦν σ’ ἔτι τιμῶ οὖσαν καὶ κατὰ γῆς, | καὶ τιμήσω σε ἄχρι ἂν ζῶ. As long as I was alive I loved you, nurse, and now I still honor you, though you are below the earth, and I will honor you as long as I live.

The symmetrical juxtaposition and subsequent opposition of standard antithetical pairs (ζῶσαν – νῦν, σ’ ἐφίλουν – σ’ ἔτι τιμῶ) in the first verse is extended in the second through an effective chiasmus: Past (καὶ ζῶσάν σ’ ἐφίλ|ουν), present (καὶ νῦν σ’ ἔτι τιμῶ), present (οὖσαν καὶ κατὰ γῆς), future (καὶ τιμήσω σε ἄχρι ἂν ζῶ). This carefully structured couplet with its balanced parts and its ring closure (ζῶσαν - ζῶ) underscores the importance of the motif of τιμή, which the nurse will continue to receive even after her death. The word τίτθη is ‘squeezed’ between the two halves of verse 3 (the first verse of this couplet), in an almost iconizing manner: the nurse to whom love and honor was, is and will be offered is located at the ‘center’ of the verse, effectively linking past and present. In this conception, the opposition between past and present, life and death is figuratively annihilated through the motif of honor. The Thesmophorian matrix of the inscription should not only be interpreted along the lines of the special place this cult occupied in Athenian religious life. Melitta’s grave epigram contains so striking Thesmophorian overtones, that one should not exclude another layer of meaning, such as Hippostrate’s participation in the actual festival.137 This being the case, one is tempted to interpret verse 5 of the inscription (οἶδα δὲ σοὶ ὅτι καὶ κατὰ [γ]ῆς, εἴπερ χρηστοῖς γέρας ἐ̣στίν) as a stark aknowledgement (οἶδα) of personal involvement, which deviates from common practice in fourth-century funerary inscriptions. At the same time, the use of οἶδα comes just after the two heavily ‘incantatory’ verses 3-4. Both lines begin and end in rhyme (καὶ ζῶσαν – _____________ 137

Hippostrate may well be a fully-grown woman, who was so close to her nurse that she decided to honor her after death by raising this grave monument and dedicating to her an epitaph.

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οὖσαν καὶ / τιμῶ - ζῶ), both of them are clearly divided in two distinct semantic units articulated by the particle καί, and both of them display a chiastic structure138 (ABAB: καὶ ζῶσάν σ’ ἐφίλ|ουν - καὶ νῦν σ’ ἔτι τιμῶ - οὖσαν καὶ κατὰ γῆς - καὶ τιμήσω σε ἄχρι ἂν ζῶ).139 According to the Homeric Hymn to Demeter, Demeter is the nurse of Demophon and, by projection, the paragonal nurse of mankind. Her use of what Richardson has coined as ‘incantatory’ language is a display of her effort to protect the young Demophon. Likewise, Hippostrate also employs ‘incantatory’ language in order to assure honors for her nurse. This is a reciprocal act probably in response to the ‘protection’ the nurse had offered to Hippostrate in the first place. The use of the formula εἴπερ χρηστοῖς γέρας ἐ̣στίν, which is typical of prayer language, highlights the fact that reciprocity and remembrance are complementary aspects of a request from the gods.140 In the Hippostrate inscription, a da-quia-dedi type of prayer addressed to Persephone and Pluto has been turned into a confirmation (οἶδα) concerning the τιμή the deceased will receive in the Underworld. In this respect, the language of Hippostrate, who in all probability participated in the Thesmophoria, resembles the language of a magician using incantations: “both claim a special relationship with their respective gods, based on revealed knowledge-this can explain why parts of mystery rituals were taken over into the prayers of the magical papyri.” 141 Τιμή is climactically represented in the last verse of this grave epigram. Up to now, the honor the nurse received was expressed in terms of surpassing any time frame and in reference to the world of the living, the world of Hippostrate. This time, however, the honors the nurse will receive refer to the world of the dead.142 The expression “πρώτει σοι τι̣[μα]ί ... κεῖνται” emphatically143 underscores the theme _____________ 138

139

140 141

142 143

The term ‘chiastic structure’ refers to the visual effect produced by looking at the inscription. I have borrowed the term ‘incantatory’ from Richardson (1974, 229 and 239), who traces two such examples in verses 228-229 and 238 of the Homeric Hymn to Demeter. The verb οἶδα is used in both 228 and 229 at verse-initial position, just as in the Hippostrate inscription. Pulleyn (1997) 16-38. Graf (1991) 192. The repetitious style of the epigram has been misinterpreted by Clairmont (1970) 96. The epigram is not deprived of literary qualities, one of which is the change from indirect (v. 1) to direct speech. See Gutscher (1889) 34. I owe this reference to Pircher (1979) 43, who speaks of a “herzlicher Ton rührender Zuneigung.” For such matters, see the third chapter of this study. See Lattimore (1942) 58. For the theme of πρῶτος in inscriptions, see Pircher (1979) 43 n. 4.

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of honor, bringing the commemoration of the nurse to a climax as she will receive even greater honors among the dead. In the light of the importance attached to the theme of τιμή in the Homeric Hymn to Demeter, the link between the Hippostrate inscription and the religious language underlying the hymn and the myth of Demeter and Kore is strengthened even more. The following passages from the hymn are relevant to Demeter: (a) as honor-granting and honor-depriving goddess; (b) as receiving honors and privileges from the gods: 260-261: ἀθάνατόν κέν τοι καὶ ἀγήραον ἤματα πάντα / παῖδα φίλον ποίησα καὶ ἄφθιτον ὤπασα τιμήν 263: τιμὴ δ’ ἄφθιτος αἰὲν ἐπέσσεται, ... 268: εἰμὶ δὲ Δημήτηρ τιμάοχος, … 311-312: ... γεράων τ’ ἐρικυδέα τιμήν / καὶ θυσιῶν ἤμερσεν Ὀλύμπια δώματ’ ἔχοντας 328: τιμὰς τάς κε βόλοιτο μετ’ ἀθανάτοισιν ἑλέσθαι· 353-354: ... καταφθινύθουσα δὲ τιμὰς / ἀθανάτων ... 366: τιμὰς δὲ σχήσῃσθα μετ’ ἀθανάτοισι μεγίστας, 443-444: ... ὑπέδεκτο δὲ τιμάς / δωσέμεν, ἅς κεν ἕλοιτο μετ’ ἀθανάτοισι θεοῖσιν· 461-462: ... ὑπέδεκτο δὲ τιμάς / [δωσέμεν, ἅς κ’ ἐθέλῃσθα] μετ’ ἀθανάτοισι θεοῖσιν·

Hippostrate’s unfailing love and honor for her nurse resembles the “goddesses’ relation to initiates, described in the Hymn [to Demeter] as one of durable love of one friend or relative (philos) for another (487, prophroneôs philôntai).” 144 Among the numerous points of contact the Hippostrate inscription shares with the religious diction145 employed in the Homeric Hymn to Demeter is the typical lament expression καὶ νῦν π[ο]θ̣εῖ σε, whose literary prehistory harks back even to the Homeric Iliad (19.320321).146 This motif being common in Greek lament literature echoes a recurrent theme of the Homeric Hymn to Demeter, namely the longing of Demeter for her daughter Persephone: 200-201: ἀλλ’ ἀγέλαστος ἄπαστος ἐδητύος ἠδὲ ποτῆτος / ἧστο, πόθῳ μινύθουσα βαθυζώνοιο θυγατρός 304: μίμνε πόθῳ μινύθουσα βαθυζώνοιο θυγατρός

_____________ 144 145

146

Foley (1994) 115. I am not arguing that the author of the Hippostrate inscription borrowed directly from the Homeric Hymn to Demeter but that both texts share a common stock of religious language pertaining to the Thesmophoria. Il. 19.320-321: ἄκμηνον πόσιος καὶ ἐδητύος, ἔνδον ἐόντων, / σῇ ποθῇ.

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Chapter 2 344: πόλλ’ ἀεκαζομένῃ μητρὸς πόθῳ ...

Read against the background of the Homeric Hymn to Demeter and the Thesmophoria at large, this epigram displays in statu nascendi a technique basically known from the literary Hellenistic epigram. Taking material used more grandly in an older text and reapplying it to lesser figures (such as Hippostrate’s nurse) constitutes an implicit indication of subliterariness. The literary backdrop and cultural setting of the Homeric Hymn to Demeter reflected in the stockpile of motifs and diction used in the Hippostrate inscription enlarge the scope of the epitaph and, by giving access to a wider range of beliefs, heavily condition its reception. The Hippostrate inscription is a remarkable example of the fusion of beliefs pertaining to Athenian religious practice (Thesmophoria), on the one hand, with traditional lament motifs, on the other. Despite its serious metrical problems (verse 2 does not scan, verses 5 and 6 are hypermetrical, since they have 7 and 8 dactylic feet respectively),147 the inscription is significant for the development of the epigrammatic genre, since it exploits well-known religious imagery (the house of Persephone and Pluto) to its limits. By making full use of motifs pertaining to the Thesmophoria and its ‘poetic representative’ (the Homeric Hymn to Demeter), the Hippostrate inscription achieves a bold but effective blending of the extra metrum ‘biographical’ references to the deceased with the core of the epigram. In CEG 575, the epitaph for Herakleia begins with a gnomic statement expressed by an εἰ-clause and ends by the imagery of Persephone’s chambers: ca. 6

[εἰ θέμις ἦν] θ̣νητὴν ἐναρίθμι|ο[ν Ó Ô˘Ô ο] υσαν ἀθανάταις | νο[μίσαι, σοὶ] τὸ γέρας τόδ’ ἂν | ἦν, Ἡράκλ[ει]α· σὺ γὰρ προλι|ποῦσ’ ἥβη̣ν [π]ολυανθῆ ὤιχ|ου ἀποφθιμ[έ]ν̣η μητρὸς π|ρολιποῦσα μέ[λ]αθρον Σίμ|ου ἀνοικτίστω[ς] Φερσεφό|νης θαλάμου.

4

[If it was right] to list a mortal woman [who preserved her purity?], among immortals, this honor would have been yours, Herakleia; for after quitting the full bloom of your youth, and leaving the home of your mother Simo, you departed without being pitied for the chambers of Persephone.

_____________ 147

Clairmont (1970) 96 refers to Allen (1888) 44, who explained the iambic hypercatalectic verse 2 of the inscription as the result of the composer’s will to include the name of Hippostrate in the epitaph. Pircher (1979) 43 scans this verse either as a catalectic iambic dipody or an alcaic meter.

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The Herakleia inscription begins with a two-verse gnomic statement verbalized by a contrary-to-fact conditional clause ([εἰ θέμις ἦν] θ̣νητὴν ἐναρίθμι|ο[ν Ó Ô˘Ô ο]υσαν / ἀθανάταις | νο[μίσαι, σοὶ] τὸ γέρας τόδ’ ἂν ἦν). Before embarking on a discussion of the function of these verses within the framework of the entire epitaph, let us briefly consider the readings proposed for the six (approximately) missing letters of verse 1. Kaibel148 and Pfohl149 have suggested the reading ἁγνεύο]υσαν. Conversely, Hansen150 has not endorsed their reading because (a) he is unable to come up with any parallel, and (b) the verb ἁγνεύω means ‘I retain for a given period of time my chastity and continence’, i.e. ‘I abstain from sex’, not ‘I keep my virginity’.151 Another reading proposed by J. Egbert152 is ὦκα θανο]ῦσαν. Hansen’s first argument is scientifically sound. Given the strong formularity of the language of epitaphs, lack of parallels is a serious reason for being skeptical about Kaibel’s suggestion (accepted by Pfohl). As far as the second argument is concerned, the question that should be asked is, why are we not allowed to accept the meaning of ἁγνεύο]υσαν (I remain pure, i.e. I abstain from sex for a given period of time). Hansen himself mentions the festival of the Thesmophoria, where married women abstained from sexual activity for a period of three days. If the reading ἁγνεύο]υσαν is correct, then how can it be reconciled with _____________ 148 149 150 151

152

In Conze 1.487, p. 112-113. See also Kaibel (1879) 182. GVI 1697. CEG 575. See CEG 575: “1, fin. ἁγνεύο]υσαν Kaibel apud Conze et vulgo, quod in textu non exhibere haesitanter decrevi, quia (1) nihil omnino habeo quod conferam et (2) ἁγνεύω = ‘pura sum’ de femina dictum idem atque ‘castitatem et continentiam temporariam custodio’ (e.g. Thesmophoriis celebrandis), non ‘virginitatem retineo’ esse videtur.” ‘Privatim’, according to Hansen (CEG 575). The reading ὦκα θανο]ῦσαν is metrically legitimate and works well with σὺ γὰρ προλιποῦσ’ ἥβη̣ν [π]ολυανθῆ. The problem it does not solve is the repetition of the προλιποῦσα construction. In fact the phrase μητρὸς προλιποῦσα μέλαθρον fails to explain the expression ὦκα θανοῦσαν. The important question concerns, therefore, the interpretation not only of σὺ γὰρ προλιποῦσ’ ἥβη̣ν [π]ολυανθῆ but also of μητρὸς προλιποῦσα μέλαθρον. The reading ὦκα θανο]ῦσαν simply cannot cater for both of them. Moreover, there are no parallels. In metrical inscriptions (8th-4th cent. BCE) the root ὠκ- is attested twice, once modifying horses (CEG 302: [h]ίποισι νικέ[σας ἔ]θεκέ μ̣᾽ [ὀκέαις]), and the second time a race (CEG 790: ὠκέος ἐγ δολί̣[χου]). In both cases the context is agonistic, not funerary. The adjective ὠκύμορος mentioned by Hansen (CEG 575) is a Homeric epithet conspicuously but significantly absent from metrical inscriptions (despite the recurring theme of mors immatura). See the synonyms of ἄωρος in Griessmair (1966) 14-15.

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the expression προλιποῦσ’ ἥβη̣ν [π]ολυανθῆ used for Herakleia? In other words, how is it possible to make the parthenos Herakleia compatible with a reference to the Thesmophoria (ἁγνεύο]υσαν), where only citizen wives were allowed to participate? This interpretation seems possible, because of the opposition between the first two verses of the epitaph and the three following ones. What the epitaph states is a conditioned probability.153 In cases like this, “it is not a matter of constricting the field of decision, but of clarifying the framework within which it operates.” 154 The use of a contrary-to-fact conditional shows that this is an unreal situation, and what is unreal about it is first and foremost the apodosis. What follows explains (γάρ) why Herakleia, the deceased, was not able to acquire the aforementioned γέρας. Therefore, if she had not died, if she had not left ‘blooming youth’ (ἥβη̣ν [π]ολυανθῆ), then she would have been able to participate in the Thesmophoria (ἁγνεύο]υσαν) as the wife of an Athenian citizen and to leave the paternal house in order to move to another θάλαμος which was not that of Persephone but her bridal one. On the other hand, it seems unlikely that the Thesmophoria might have provided the dead with immortality. Herakleia must have been praised for a chastity of considerably longer duration, namely the choice of a chaste life. By abstaining from sexual activity during her entire life she would even be considered one of the immortal goddesses. The matter is virtually impossible to decide both because the reading ἁγνεύο]υσαν is not certain and also because we cannot possibly know whether the Thesmophoria may have been used in our inscription symbolically, i.e. epitomizing a woman’s whole life. Herakleia’s premature death and her leaving her mother’s house deprived her of being considered one of the immortal goddesses. The special honor of living a chaste life is considered so important that the author of the inscription has availed himself of an unreal conditional clause in order to highlight its special weight. In fact, if the restored reading [εἰ θέμις ἦν] is correct, then it suits well the aforementioned interpretation. The Herakleia inscription contains two elegiac couplets interrupted by a single hexameter. Departure from the norm is attested in a number of cases in metrical inscriptions. Allen lists all relevant examples known to him at the time,155 which show that the question of quality is independent from that of metrical incongruence (the ‘norm’ _____________ 153 154 155

See Peradotto (1990) 67. Peradotto (1990) 67. Allen (1888) 42-45.

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would be of course an impeccable alternation of hexameters and pentameters so as to form perfect elegiac couplets). Speculating about deviation from norms is highly risky, the more so since this may be due to such a variety of factors that the whole issue amounts to mere guesswork. The double repetition of the standard expression προλιποῦσα + accusative in verses 3-4 is noteworthy, since the phrase προλιποῦσα μ[έ]λαθρον deviates from common practice, namely (προ)λιπ(ών)οῦσα + person or feeling: e.g. [ἣ] δ’ ἔθανεν προλιπο̃σα πόσιν καὶ μητ[έρα κεδνὴν] | [κ]αὶ κλέος ἀθάνατον σωφροσύνης [μεγάλης].156 Both προλιποῦσα μ[έ]λαθρον and προλιποῦσα ἥβη̣ν have the meaning of ‘quitting’, which is a significantly more rare use of this construction, especially in a funerary context.157 The following tables show the syntax of προ(λ)είπω in the entire corpus of grave epigrams from the 8th to the 4th centuries BCE:158 Verb Ac cu sati ve ἔλιπες γόον ἔλιπεν φάος λιποῦσα πόθον λιπόντα πένθος λιπόντε πένθος προλιπών πατρίδα γéν προλιπών ἠέλιον προλιποῦσα ἥβης ἄνθος προλιποῦσα ἥβης ἄνθος Verb Ac cu sati ve λιπεῖν εὔκλειαν λείπεις μνημεῖον [λ]είπεις πόθον λείπεις εὐλογίας πηγήν λείπ̣ε̣` [ις] [πένθο]ς λείπεις γόον καὶ κήδεα λείπουσι (στεναχαί) αὐτήν (μητέρα) λειπούσας δεκάδας λείπομα[ι] -

Plac e Attica unknown origin Attica Attica Attica Attica Egypt Sinope Sinope Plac e Attica Attica Attica Attica Rhodes Cos Attica Acarnania Attica

Centur y 5th 5th 5th ? 5th 5th 5th 5th 5th 5th Centur y 4th 4th 4th 4th 4th 4th 4th

4th 4th

CEG I 95 178 104 75 84 80 171 174.4 174.8 CEG II 574 495 543.3 548.6 689 704 587 660 553.4

_____________ 156 157

158

For λιποῦσα/λιπο̃σ α, see CEG 515, 529, 543.4 and 7, 576-577, 646. For προλιποῦσα/προλιπο̃σ α, see CEG 486, 526.2 and 7, 548.2, 575.3 and 4. The syntax of λείπω + non-abstract object is hereby considered as secondary, since it is rarely attested within the corpus of classical epigrams. I have used the indexes compiled by Hansen in the two volumes of CEG.

112 [λε]ί̣πεται [λει]πομένην [λ]ειπομε[ν -] λείψει (μνήμη) ἔλιπον ἔλιπον ἔλιπον ἔλιπον ἔλιπον ἔλιπον λίπον λιπες ἔλιπες ἔλιπες ἔλιπες προλιποῦσα ἔλιπες ἔλιπες ἔλιπες [λίπες - - ] ἔλιπεν

ἔλιπεν ἔλιπ’ ἔ̣[λι]π̣[ε]ν ἔ[λ]ιπεν ἔλιπον, ἀποπρολιπών λιπεῖν λιπών λιπών λιπών λιπών λιπών (προ)λιπών λιπο̃σα λιπο̃σα λιποῦσα

Chapter 2 μνημεῖον εὔκλειαν λύπας Φοινίκην φῶς αὐγάς τρόπαια πένθος Eὔκλειαν σῶμα μνήμην μνήμην ἀρετήν πέν̣θ̣ος πόσιν, ἀδελφός, πένθος, τέκνον, εὔκλειαν ἀρετήν, σωφροσύνην φῶς εὔκλειαν πνεῦμ’ γενεήν, θυμόν

Arcadia Attica Attica Euboea Attica Attica Attica Attica Attica Macedonia Attica Attica Attica Attica Attica Attica Attica Attica Illyria Attica Attica

4th 4th 4th 4th 4th 4th 4th 4th 4th 4th 4th 4th 4th 4th 4th 4th 4th 4th 4th 4th 4th

659 490 505 627 493 498 531 585 596.6 722 590 496 511 518 522 549 551 603 662.4 604 513

Attica

4th

542

Attica Thessaly Camarina Attica

4th 4th 4th 4th

566 642 662a 597

Εὔκλειαν μνημεῖα πένθος πένθεα πατρίδα παῖδα (Xάρμον) ἔπαινον λύπην πένθος φάος

Attica Attica Attica Attica Attica Illyria Cos Attica Attica Attica

4th 4th 4th 4th 4th 4th 4th 4th 4th 4th

570 474 = 99b 477 485 492 662.3 708 515 529 543.4

113

Poetic Imagery λιποῦσα λιποῦσα λιποῦσα λιποῦσα λιπόντα λιποῦσαι λέλοιπας λέλοιπας πρ[ολιπών] προλιπών πρ̣ο̣[λιπ]ών προλιπών προλιπο̃σα προλιποῦσα προλιποῦσα προλιποῦσα προλιποῦσ’ προλιποῦσα προλιπο̣[Ô˘Ô] προλ[ιπ ØØ]

πένθος ὀρφανὸν παῖδα πόθον, μνήμην πνεῦμα πόθον πένθ[ο]ς, μνή[μην?] πένθος ἥβην ἡλικία̣[ν] ἁλικί̣α̣[ν  Ó] πόσιν, μητέρα, κλέος ἠιθέους, κόρας κόρας [σῶμα] ἥβην μέλαθρον γῆν πατρίδα -

Attica Attica Attica Thessaly Miletus Cyprus Attica

4th 4th 4th 4th 4th 4th 4th

543.7 576 577 646 687 714 591.7

Attica Attica Attica Rhodes Macedonia Attica

4th 4th 4th 4th 4th 4th

593.8 480 624 691 723.2 486

Attica Attica Attica Attica Attica Cnidos Cnidos

4th 4th 4th 4th 4th 4th 4th

526.2 526.7 548.2 575.3 575.4 700 702

These two tables show that the expression προλιποῦσα + accusative is basically used in the sense of ‘leaving something or somebody behind’ or ‘leaving as a legacy’. In this light, the twice repeated construction προλιποῦσα + accusative constitutes a noteworthy deviation from the norm. It is, therefore, plausible that its attestation within two continuous verses of the very same epitaph may indicate a special ‘reading’ of the epigram. The use of the construction προλιποῦσ(α) + ἥβην/μέλαθρον instead of προλιποῦσα + person/feeling results in a significant change of tone. There is no mention of suffering, of pain and loss that the deceased’s relatives experience after the death of a beloved person. In fact, the gnomic tone of the first two verses, with its contrary-to-fact conditional clause, gives its place to a rather self-oriented focalization of the dead person. Through the three verbs of motion (προλιποῦσα, ᾤχου, προλιποῦσα) expressing the radical change in Herakleia’s condition, the epitaph suggests an interesting parallelism between the ἥβη̣ν πολυανθῆ and the μητρὸς μέλαθρον on the one hand, and the Περσεφόνης θαλάμους, on the other. The analogy between the myth

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of Demeter and Kore becomes particularly relevant. Persephone ‘quit’ youth (metaphorically symbolized by her abduction while plucking flowers)159 and her mother’s (Demeter’s) house in myth, when she was abducted by Hades. Likewise, Herakleia leaves youth and home and goes to her new, pitiless abode in the Underworld, which is now called ‘the chambers of Persephone’. The irregularity of two subsequent hexameters in the metrical context of elegiac couplets can be now textually interpreted. The fact that verses 4-5 could be combined (ᾤχου ἀποφθιμένη Φερσεφόνης θαλάμους) in a pentameter either leaving line 3 as it stands or changing it into Ἡράκλεια· σὺ γὰρ μητρὸς προλιποῦσα μέλαθρον shows that the omission of a pentameter verse (after line 3) has culminated in a sophisticated blending. The composer of the inscription wanted to insert Simo’s name in the epigram and conclude with the phrase Φερσεφόνης θαλάμους, which is always a terminal closure for the pentameter’s second part. This decision resulted in the reiteration of the expression προλιποῦσα + accusative (in order to accommodate the deceased’s name Herakleia in the previous hexameter), and above all in a very odd syntax (the ordo verborum would misleadingly suggest a connection between the genitive Σίμου and the accusative θαλάμους). Such considerations reveal a gifted author, who ‘sacrificed’ formal metrical patterns by exploiting syntactical norm-deviation and blending it with well-known religious imagery. The emphasis on Herakleia as expressed by the syntax of προλιποῦσα was effectively counterbalanced by the insertion of her mother’s (unusual) name at the last line of the inscription. As in mythical narrative, so in epigrammatic constraints mother and daughter are, somehow, together again. In CEG 592 = ΣΕΜΑ 411, the expression Persephone’s chamber is hidden under the nickname of the deceased alluding to a sophisticated imagery, which the readers of the epitaph are invited to reactivate in their minds: Kερκώπη μὲν ἔγωγ’ ἐκαλούμην, | εἰμὶ δὲ πατρὸς Σ[ω]κράτου Ἡδύτιον | Mαραθωνίου, εὐθ[α]νάτως δὲ στείχω | ζηλωτὴ Φερσεφόνης θάλαμον, | γήραι ἀριθμ[ή]σασ’ ἐννέα ἐτῶν | δεκάας. εὐσεβίαι θυγατρὸς δὲ | ἐτάφην ὥσπερ με προσήκει.

4

I was called Kerkope. I am the daughter of

_____________ 159

See Homeric Hymn to Demeter (2) 6: ἄνθεά τ’ αἰνυμένην ῥόδα καὶ κρόκον ἠδ’ ἴα καλά. Abduction of unmarried maidens often occurs in an analogous context and stands for a sort of figurative ‘death’.

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Socrates from Marathon, my true name is Hedytion, and after dying an easy death, I am going envied to Persephone’s chamber, since I haved reckoned in my old age nine bodies of ten years. It is due to my daughter’s piety that I was buried just as it is befitting to me.

The epitaph was inscribed on a fourth-century marble lekythos. It displays a tripartite structure (a: Kερκώπη-Mαραθωνίου, (b) εὐθ[α]νάτως δὲ ... δεκάδας, (c) εὐσεβίᾳ ... προσήκει). In the first part (a), the deceased discloses her identity, both through her nickname and through her father’s name and demotic, which is ‘interrupted’ by her own real name (Hedytion). In the second part (b), the focus is on the theme of her death that is expressed through the traditional metaphor of ‘Persephone’s chamber(s)’ extended by the additional information of Kerkope’s age. The third part (c) contains a brief reference to Kerkope’s daughter, who was responsible for her mother’s burial. This epitaph is the only one among the corpus of fourth-century Attic grave epigrams where the formula ‘Persephone’s chamber(s)’ is not placed at the last verse of the epitaph, but at its very center. The expression Φερσεφόνης θάλαμον (-ος, -ους) regularly fills the second part of a pentameter verse, as its metrical structure indicates (Ó  | Ó  | Ó). Its use, therefore, in elegiac couplets is easily understood. In epitaphs with combinations of hexameters and pentameters (as is the case with CEG 592),160 metrical reasons cannot cater for any explanation concerning the non-terminal placement of the formula Φερσεφόνης θάλαμον, since metrical balance (as created by the alternation of elegiac couplets) has been overturned. Semantically, the epitaph could very well have ended in verse 3, i.e. with the formula Φερσεφόνης θάλαμον. Therefore, the reason(s) for the expansion of this grave-epigram must be sought elsewhere. We shall begin our investigation with the function of the word Kερκώπη. The nickname Kερκώπη is of crucial importance for ‘deciphering’ the inscription. Its placement in verse-initial position at the very beginning of the epitaph strikes a powerful tone, as it is not her real name Ἡδύτιον, but the nickname of the deceased that will be the interpretive key of the grave-epigram. The nickname Kερκώπη denotes a small cicada (τέττιξ).161 The garrulity of the cicada was well known _____________ 160 161

See Allen (1888) 41-45. The lemma κερκώπη in Hesychius’ Lexicon (p. 465 [Latte]) reads as follows: μικρὸν τεττίγιον τὸ καλαμαῖον λεγόμενον. εἶναι γὰρ τρία γένη τεττίγων φασί. οἱ δὲ τέττιξ θήλεια μὴ φωνοῦσα. See also Ael. NA 10.44. Cf. Alexis’ Thrason (fr. 96.1-2 K.-A.), who refers to the κερκώπη as “a paradigm of loquacious

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in antiquity. Athenaeus informs us that cicadas were part of ancient diet and that people ate them for medicinal purposes (4.133b: ἤσθιον δὲ καὶ τέττιγας καὶ κερκώπας ἀναστομώσεως χάριν) and gives parallels from Aristophanes’ Anagyros (fr. 53 K.-A.: πρὸς θεῶν· ἔραμαι τέττιγα φαγεῖν / καὶ κερκώπην θηρευσαμένη / καλάμῳ λευκῷ), from Alexis’ Thrason (fr. 96.1-4 K.-A.: σοῦ δ’ ἐγὼ λαλιστέραν / οὐπώποτ’ εἶδον οὔτε κερκώπην, γύναι, / οὐ κίτταν, οὐκ ἀηδόν’, / οὐ τρυγόν’, οὐ τέττιγα), from Epilycus’ Koraliskos (fr. 5 K.-A.: [Phot. p. 592, 11] τιτιγόνιον· ὅμοιον τέττιγι. Ἐπίλυκος Kωραλίσκῳ), and from Speusippus’ Similia (fr. 9 Lang = fr. 127 Parente): ἔστιν δ’ ἡ κερκώπη ζῷον ὅμοιον τέττιγι καὶ τιτιγονίῳ, ὡς Σπεύσιππος παρίστησι ἐν δ Ὁμοίων).162 The cicada as a symbol of song is, of course, a locus communis in Greek literature. The relevant examples are numerous, and even a cursory reading of the lemma s.v. τέττιξ in the RE and of Smerdel’s informative study shows that the cicada inspired Greek imagination in multiple and remarkable ways. As we shall see, the epitaph under examination exploited several of the traditional tettigological connotations.163 The happy death (εὐθανάτως) of the ‘little-cicada’ (Kerkope) must be ‘read’ as an allusion to the careless living of the τέττιξ, who spends all its time singing,164 free of even the most elementary alimentary needs. The locus classicus for the cicada’s ‘easy’ and ‘light’ life is Plato’s Phdr. 259a-d, from which b-c is of particular importance to our investigation: ΣΩ. Oὐ μὴν δὲ πρέπει γε φιλόμουσον ἄνδρα τῶν τοιούτων ἀνήκοον εἶναι. λέγεται δ’ ὥς ποτ’ ἦσαν οὗτοι ἄνθρωποι τῶν πρὶν Mούσας γεγονέναι, γενομένων δὲ Mουσῶν καὶ φανείσης ᾠδῆς οὕτως ἄρα τινὲς τῶν τότε ἐξεπλάγησαν ὑφ’ ἡδονῆς, ὥστε ᾄδοντες ἠμέλησαν σίτων τε καὶ ποτῶν, καὶ ἔλαθον τελευτήσαντες αὑτούς· ἐξ ὧν τε τεττίγων γένος μετ’ ἐκεῖνο φύεται, γέρας τοῦτο παρὰ Mουσῶν λαβόν, μηδὲν τροφῆς δεῖσθαι γενόμενον, ἀλλ’ ἄσιτόν τε καὶ ἄποτον εὐθὺς ᾄδειν, ἕως ἂν τελευτήσῃ, καὶ μετὰ ταῦτα ἐλθὸν παρὰ Mούσας ἀπαγγέλλειν τίς τίνα αὐτῶν τιμᾷ τῶν ἐνθάδε. ...

_____________ 162 163

164

chattering” (Davies and Kathirithamby 1986, 131). For nicknames originating from animals, see Hug, RE s.v. ‘Spitznamen’. See also Ael. NA 1.20: οἱ δὲ τέττιγες κατὰ τὴν ἰξύν εἰσι λαλίστατοι. The epitaph’s sophisticated use of features pertaining to the way Greeks thought of the cicada is based on the premise that future readers would observe the preeminent position of the nickname Kερκώπη in verse-initial position in the very first line of the epitaph. See CEG 532, which is a good example of an explicit explanation of a nickname used for the deceased. See Davies and Kathirithamby (1986) 116-122.

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But it is surely not fitting for a man who loves music not to have heard of such things. It is said that once upon a time these were human beings, before the Muses came to be; and then, when the Muses came to be and song was revealed, certain of the men of that time were so astounded by pleasure that, in singing, they lost all care for food and drink, and brought their own lives to an end without noticing it. After that, the race of the cicadas grew from them, having gotten this gift of honor from the Muses, to need no nourishment when born but straightaway, without food and without drink, to sing, until they end their lives, and after that to go by the Muses and report who of those here honors which one of them.165

After living a life with no need of food (μηδὲν τροφῆς δεῖσθαι γενόμενον, ἀλλ’ ἄσιτόν τε καὶ ἄποτον εὐθὺς ᾄδειν, ἕως ἂν τελευτήσῃ), the cicadas are imagined as reporting to the Muses the names of those who honor each one of them so that the τέττιγες mediate between the human world and the Muses. The phrase τίς τίνα αὐτῶν τιμᾷ τῶν ἐνθάδε imitates, through the alliteration of t sounds and ti syllables, the voice of the cicadas, whose name has, after all, been based on onomatopoeia.166 This last observation underlines the belief in the incessant activity of the cicada, an activity that will be continued in the Underworld. The Platonic idea that the cicada is able to survive without food and drink 167 is based on the fact that the Greeks thought this insect fed itself on dew.168 So strong was this belief that they developed a whole set of ideas concerning the ‘easy’ life of the cicada. Likewise, the deceased (Kερκώπη), whose nickname designated a tiny subspecies of the female cicada, is now approaching Persephone’s chamber envied (ζηλωτή), as she has enjoyed a long life, a sweet death, and will continue to enjoy a blessed condition in the world below. Longevity represents another hitherto unexplored feature of the epitaph pertaining to its tettigological framework and deserving lingering attention (γήραι ἀριθμ[ή]σασ’ ἐννέα ἐτῶν δεκάας). From a purely syntactical point of view the dative γήραι seems peculiar, since _____________ 165 166 167

168

Translation by Nichols (1998). See Davies and Kathirithamby (1986) 113. See Callimachus Aet. 1.29-35: τῷ πιθόμη]ν· ἐνὶ τοῖς γὰρ ἀείδομεν οἳ λιγὺν ἦχον / τέττιγος, θ]όρυβον δ᾽ οὐκ ἐφίλησαν ὄνων. / θηρὶ μὲν ο˼ὐατόεντι πανείκελον ὀγκήσαιτο / ἄλλος, ἐγ]ὼ δ᾽ εἴην οὑλ̣[α]χύς, ὁ πτερόεις, / ἆ πάντ˼ως, ἵνα γῆρας ἵνα δρόσον ἣν μὲν ἀείδω / πρώκιο˼ν ἐκ δίης ἠέρος εἶδαρ ἔδων, / αὖθι τ˼ὸ̣ δ̣᾽ ˻ἐκ˼δύοιμ˻ι˼, … See also Philo Alex. de vita contemplativa 35 (p. 55): ἐθισθέντες ὥσπερ φασὶ τὸ τεττίγων γένος ἀέρι τρέφεσθαι ... See Davies and Kathirithamby (1986) 123-124. For examples where dew and air are combined as cicada nourishment, see Borthwick (1966) 107.

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the verb ἀριθμέω is never accompanied by a non-prepositional dative when it has an accusative object (δεκάας). Such syntactical deviations from common practice are to be expected in inscriptions but the whole matter seems more intriguing, if we keep in mind that the word γῆρας designates, apart from old age, the skin certain insects (and the cicada is definitely one of them) slough off.169 Greeks interpreted the casting of a serpent’s or insect’s skin as a symbolic passage to another life, a sign of immortality. The author of Anacreonteum 34 presents the cicada as not worn out by old age (15): Μακαρίζομέν σε, τέττιξ, ὅτε δενδρέων ἐπ’ ἄκρων ὀλίγην δρόσον πεπωκώς βασιλεὺς ὅπως ἀείδεις … φιλέουσι μέν σε Mοῦσαι, φιλέει δὲ Φοῖβος αὐτός, λιγυρὴν δ’ ἔδωκε οἴμην· τὸ δὲ γῆρας οὔ σε τείρει σοφὲ γηγενὴς φιλυμνέ· ἀπαθὴς ἀνεμόσαρκε, σχεδὸν εἶ θεοῖς ὅμοιος. We count you blessed, cicada, when on the tree-tops, having drunk a little dew, you sing like a king … The Muses love you and Phoebus himself loves you and has given you a clear song. Age does not distress you, wise one, earth-born, song-lover! You who do not suffer, you whose flesh is bloodless, you are almost like the gods.170

4 12 15

4 12 15

According to Pfeiffer, this poem also underscores the fact that the cicada climbs on tree trunks and, after having drunk only a limited por_____________ 169

170

See Davies and Kathirithamby (1986) 124 and LSJ s.v. γῆρας. Γῆρας ἐκδύνειν is the standard expression for the process of skin casting some serpents undergo. See Arist. HA 549b26; Nic. Th. 31; Antig. Mir. 20; Antyll. ap. Orib. 10.35.4. On crabs casting off their skin, see Arist. HA 600b20, Theophr. fr. 177. Translation by Campbell (1988).

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tion of dew, is able to sing like a king.171 He has rightly argued that the word γῆρας is used both for old age and “for the skin or exuvia which insects such as the cicada slough off.” 172 Callimachus in Aetia (fr. 1.2935) wishes that he could, cicada-like, shed off old age and live on dew drops. He even uses the word ἐκδύοιμι, which is the terminus technicus for the shedding of the skin. Ekdysis designates the final molting these insects undergo when, after having emerged from the ground and crawled away in search of trees or at least some sort of objects they can cling to, they “execute a series of abdominal contractions accompanied by twitchings and palpitations and by the secretion of a molding fluid that flows under the hard exo-skeleton.” 173 Like the cicada, Kερκώπη died an easy death after living for a long time. Her long life span (ninety years)174 implicitly recalls traditional tettigological longevity and builds on the double meaning of γῆρας in order to allude to the idea of immortality, with which the cicada is traditionally linked. The phrase ὥσπερ με προσήκει175 (‘just as it is befitting to me’) blurs the boundaries between the literal176 and the figurative, since it _____________ 171

172 173

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Pfeiffer (1928) 324. The author also argues that the ability of the cicada to sing incessantly, even in old age, may be implicit in Il. 3.150-152 (γήραϊ δὴ πολέμοιο πεπαυμένοι, ἀλλ’ ἀγορηταί / ἐσθλοί, τεττίγεσσιν ἐοικότες, οἵ τε καθ’ ὕλην / δενδρέῳ ἐφεζόμενοι ὄπα λειριόεσσαν ἱεῖσιν), where the old men in Troy are depicted as cicadas whose old age does not allow them to fight but has not at all deprived them from their eloquence. See Pfeiffer (1928) 324-325. See also Richardson (1933) 69. See Egan (1994) 5. For the shedding off of cicada’s skin, see: (a) Arist. HA 601a1-10 (Balme): τὸν αὐτὸν δὲ τρόπον καὶ τῶν ἐντόμων ἐκδύνειν τὸ γῆρας ὅσα ἐκδύνει, οἷον σίλφη καὶ ἀσπὶς καὶ τὰ κολεόπτερα οἷον κάνθαρος. πάντα δὲ μετὰ τὴν γένεσιν ἐκδύεται· ὥσπερ γὰρ τοῖς ζωοτοκουμένοις τὸ χόριον καὶ τοῖς σκωληκοτοκουμένοις περιρρήγνυται τὸ κέλυφος, ὁμοίως καὶ μελίτταις καὶ ἀκρίσιν. οἱ δὲ τέττιγες ὅταν ἐξέλθωσι καθιζάνουσιν ἐπί τε τὰς ἐλαίας καὶ καλάμους. περιρραγέντος δὲ τοῦ κελύφους ἐξέρχονται ἐγκαταλιπόντες ὑγρότητα μικράν, καὶ μετ’ οὐ πολὺν χρόνον ἀναπέτονται καὶ ᾄδουσιν; (b) Lucr. De rerum natura 4.58: teretes ponunt tunicas aestate cicadae and 5.803: folliculos ut nunc teretes aestate cicadae linquunt; (c) Tzetzes on Lycophron’s Alexandra 18 (19.28-29 Scheer): οἱ γὰρ τέττιγες ὥσπερ οἱ ὄφεις γεγηρακότες ἀποβάλλουσι τὸ γῆρας †T. See Philetaer. fr. 9.1-2 (K.-A.): οὐχὶ Kερκώπη μὲν ἤδη γέγον’ ἔτη τρισχίλια, / ἡ δὲ Διοπείθους ἀηδὴς Tέλεσις ἕτερα μυρία. The lemma in Lex. Bekk. p. 271, 21 (Kερκώπη· ὄνομα ἑταίρας, καλουμένης οὕτω διὰ κακοήθειαν· κέρκωπες γάρ εἰσιν οἱ κακοῦργοι ἄνθρωποι) is off the mark, for the Kερκώπη Philetaerus mentions is connected to the longevity of the cicada, not to the malignity of the Kέρκωπες, the men-monkeys linked to the Heracles legend. Notice again the awkward syntax: accusative με instead of dative μοι.

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may well be referring to the cicada/deceased, and so ‘befitting’ may imply what is appropriate for a cicada. To the familiar function of the cicada as a symbol of Athenian autochthony,177 Borthwick has added the similarity between the metathesized words Kέκρωψ and κερκώπη. In fact, the grandson of earth-born Kekrops,178 Kephalos, was seized by Eos or Hemera179 and was considered ‘dew-born’. Kephalos was the father of Tithonos, whose celebrated story of being “transformed into a loquacious and ageless cicada kept in a thalamos 180 and nurtured on ambrosia, ‘that is honey, a species of heavenly dew’”,181 is similar to that of “earth-born Erichthonius, kept in a box by Kekrops’ dewdaughters.” 182 These references weave a dense web of mythical associations, which concern autochthony and immortality, passed on from the real tettiges to the human tettiges, the Athenians. On such a reading, one is tempted to reinterpret the last line of the epitaph within the framework of the aforementioned tettigological associations as a disguised reference to the continuation of Kerkope’s cicadaresembling life in her daughter-made grave, i.e. in Persephone’s θάλαμος, just as the earth-born Erichthonios, another symbol of Athenian autochthony, was kept in a box by Kekrops’ daughters, and Tithonos, the paragonal cicada-man, was preserved in a thalamos and nurtured by divine dew. Only now, after having scrupulously examined the entire epitaph, can we return to our initial question concerning the placement and function of the standard expression Φερσεφόνης θάλαμον. By placing this eschatological formula at the middle of the grave epigram instead of its very end, the author of the inscription is able to diminish its _____________ 176

177

178 179 180

181

182

The ‘nähere Angabe’ of the entire epitaph, such as the age of the deceased and her daughter’s building of a grave monument for her are re-employed under the coloring of cicada imagery. See Anacreonteum 34. The ancient fashion followed by the Athenians and the Ionians, who used hair ornaments in the form of τέττιγες, is thought to have originated from their belief that the cicada was earth-born. See Th. 1.6; Ar. Eq. 1331, Nub. 984. Eustathius 395.93. I owe these references, which do not claim to be exhaustive, to Beavies (1988) 97. According to Apollodorus (3.14.3), Cephalus was the son of Cecrops’ daughter Herse (‘dew’). Apollod. 3.14.3 (cf. 1.9.4), Eur. Hipp. 454-456, Paus. 1.3.1 See the Homeric Hymn to Aphrodite (5) 236-237 (ἐν θαλάμῳ κατέθηκε, θύρας δ’ ἐπέθηκε φαεινάς. / τοῦ δ’ ἤτοι φωνὴ ῥέει ἄσπετος, οὐδ’ ἔτι κῖκυς), Tzetzes’ long scholion on Lycophron’s Alexandra 18 (Scheer 19.28-29) and Eustathius on Od. 5.1 (p. 1330, 15). Cook (1940) 247-261. See also Davies and Kathirithamby (1986) 126-127. On Tithonos, see Wüst, RE s.v. ‘Tithonus’. Borthwick (1966) 109.

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force and subdue it to the main thematic thread the epitaph unravels, i.e. the cicada-like life and death of Hedytion, whose nickname was ‘the tiny cicada’. The relocation of a standard funerary expression has resulted in a bold but very effective new imagery, one of fusing traditional lore into the sphere of a private grave epigram. In CEG 593, the imagery of Persephone’s chamber is placed first within the framework of traditional beliefs expressed in commonplace statements: (i)

ὀθεὶς μόχθος ἔπαινον ἐπ’ ἀνδράσι τοῖς ἀγαθοῖσιν | ζητεῖν, ηὕρηται δὲ ἄφθονος εὐλογία· | ἧς σὺ τυχὼν ἔθανες, Διονύσιε, καὶ τὸν ἀνάνκης | κοινὸν Φερσεφόνης πᾶσιν ἔχεις θάλαμον. (ii) [Vestigia incerta nominis]. Διονύσιος Ἀ̣λφίνο. (iii) σῶμα μὲν ἐνθάδε σόν, Διονύσιε, γαῖα καλύπτει, | ψυχὴν δὲ ἀθάνατον κοινὸς ἔχει ταμίας· | σοῖς δὲ φίλοις καὶ μητρὶ κασιγνήταις τε λέλοιπας | πένθος ἀείμνηστον σῆς φιλίας φθίμενος· | δισσαὶ δ’ αὖ πατρίδες σ’ ἡ μὲν φύσει, ἡ δὲ νόμοισιν | ἔστερξαν πολλῆς εἵνεκα σωφροσύνης.

4

8

(i)

It is no trouble to seek commendation for men of excellence. Abundant praise is found [for them]; having experienced this fair speaking, Dionysios, you died, and are [now] in the chamber of Persephone Ananke, a chamber common to all. (ii) [Missing name]. Dionysios, son of Alphinos. (iii) The earth, Dionysios, covers here your body, but it is our common dispenser who holds your immortal soul. To your friends, mother and sisters you have left the immemorable mourning of your love, as you perished; in turn, your two fatherlands, one by nature, the other by law(s) were fond of you because of your great soundness of mind.

This is one of the longest fourth-century funerary epigrams from Attica. The entire monument consists of a marble stele, with pediment and base. It was found in the Kerameikos, close to the church of Ἁγία Tριάς. There was no relief between the pillars but a painting representing on the left either a man (Gurlitt) or a woman (Brueckner) standing and on the right a man, the deceased Dionysios in all probability, seated. Above the monument, there was a superimposed pillar with a bull looking towards the left but having its horns towards the ground. Two lions were placed at the two foremost angles of the monument. The inscription consists of five elegiac couplets, the first two of which have been inscribed on the architrave, while the re-

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maining three on the base. In between were inscribed the names of the two persons depicted in the painting, which are now lost (as well as the painting). One can still see what has remained from the name of the deceased (Διονύσιος Ἀ̣λφίνο). The interpretation of this long epitaph is intriguing, the more so since we are fortunate to possess a rich harvest of information concerning the entire monument. We are also in a position to identify the deceased, Dionysios, who was the cousin of the orator Hypereides. In fact, since Dionysios was from the deme of Kollytos (which was also the deme of Hypereides) and both the name of Dionysios and that of Alphinos (a rather rare name) were in current use in Hypereides’ family, it is highly likely that the aforementioned relation between the two is secure. Dionysios was a cleruch sent to Samos and, as his father’s name and relation to Hypereides indicate, was clearly an Athenian, not the son (with the same name) of an expatriated Samian who found refuge to Athens after the defeat of the Athenian fleet at Aigospotamoi (405 BCE) and the establishment of an oligarchic régime by Lysander in Samos.183 The two last verses of the inscription reinforce this view even more. The first part of the inscription consists of two elegiac couplets. The first contains a gnomic statement articulated by μέν-δὲ clauses. The core of this maxim (it is easy to praise virtuous men) is contrasted to one of the most basic motifs that funerary orations used both in the 5th and the 4th century for the war dead. This divergence between logos and ergon, best displayed in Pericles’ funeral speech in Thucydides 2.35-46,184 belongs to the traditional thematic armature of the orator, who underscores the ‘impossibility’ of the task he has undertaken: he is unable to confer through his speech on the war dead the praise they really deserve. The epitaph takes a very different stance, since the approval or commendation (ἔπαινος) of the deceased is considered to be an easy task, because of the abundance of praise (εὐλογία) available. The diction of this couplet is based on the twofold balance between _____________ 183

184

See Michel (1900) 832 lines 2-3 = Hicks and Hill (1901) 114 line 2: παρέλαβον οἱ ταμίαι, i.e. the quaestors of the Heraion at Samos, who were elected by the Athenian cleruchs. See Parry (1981) 159, who argues that Thucydides employs this motif no less than 32 times in Pericles’ funeral speech (2.35-46). For this motif, see Kakridis (1961) 55-56; Krischer (1977) 122-134; Ziolkowski (1981) 74-137; Loraux (1986) 236-238. See also Hornblower (1997) 296. For the ‘traditionality’ of this theme, which is common in encomiastic literature (Pind. Pyth. 1.81-85; Call. fr. 384.57-58), see Rusten (1989) 138-139, to whom I owe this reference.

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the μέν-δὲ clauses and ζητεῖν-ηὕρηται verbs, which are bridged by the use of synonyms for the word ‘praise’ (ἔπαινον-εὐλογία). The two words belong, no doubt, to the same semantic field but statistical data show that the former is extremely common in praise contexts, whereas the latter is very rarely attested. In fact, the word ἔπαινος and its derivatives are attested 23 times in the six extant funeral orations (Gorgias, Thucydides, Lysias, Plato, Demosthenes, Hypereides), while the word εὐλογία and its derivatives are found only once.185 While these two observations distinguish the initial couplet of this epitaph from ‘funeral oration’ themes and diction, the expression ἐπ’ ἀνδράσι τοῖς ἀγαθοῖσιν constitutes a formula used for the war dead, who have achieved the status of ἀγαθοί only after their death for the fatherland.186 The term is of course often attested in fourth-century Attic grave epigrams. What makes it extremely noteworthy here is the fact that it indicates, together with the ὀθεὶς μόχθος topic and the ἔπαινος-εὐλογία synonymity, a significant change of motifs and diction pertaining to the epitaphios logos, the Athenian tradition par excellence of commemorating and praising the war dead. The author of the inscription has made the conscious choice to rechristen a number of elements (thematic and dictional) typically associated with the public funeral of the war dead and to reapply them to a private commemoration of an individual who did not die at war. The reappropriation of material belonging to the public sphere and its transfer to the private domain is a constant concern of this long grave epigram and, as I hope to show, lies at the very heart of its function. The examination of this first couplet has shown that the epitaph begins with a noteworthy recourse to ‘public’ funerary language, only to employ it for ‘private’ circumstances possibly via the precedent of epinician poetry. The second couplet uses the typical imagery of Persephone’s chamber to denote the death of Dionysios. The link with the first couplet is effected by the phrase ἧς σὺ τυχὼν ἔθανες, which shows that Dionysios will go to Persephone’s chamber having acquired abundant praise as an ἀγαθὸς ἀνήρ. In this distich the author of the epitaph makes another step towards the direction of personal involvement. Dionysios’ name (in the vocative) and the emphatic ‘you’ (σύ) let a more personal tone emerge. This ‘personal flavor’ is not, as in the first couplet, created by the reuse of ‘public’ funeral language, but through the blending of individual with ‘religious’ thought. In his edition of _____________ 185 186

Th. 2.42.1. See Loraux (1986) 99.

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metrical inscriptions, Hansen notes that the phrase καὶ τὸν ἀνάνκης / κοινὸν Φερσεφόνης πᾶσιν ἔχεις θάλαμον is a mixture of two separate expressions, i.e. τὸν ἀνάνκης κοινὸν πᾶσιν θάλαμον and τὸν κοινὸν Φερσεφόνης πᾶσιν θάλαμον.187 He also argues that behind the word ἀνάνκη we must discern Ἀνάγκη Περσεφόνη, and brings as evidence the existence of Νίκη Ἀθηνᾶ. I clearly side with his argument (contra West),188 but I think there is more to it. In his study on Orphism, Maaß189 has argued that Ananke as an orphic belief is linked in popular imagination with Persephone, the relentless queen of the Underworld.190 As the abundant praise Dionysios has received is indicative of his being a member of the community’s cherished citizens (the ἄνδρες ἀγαθοί), so his ‘presence’ at the chamber of inescapable Persephone/Ananke signifies his participation in his ‘new’ community, the community of the dead, which is common to all men. The adjective κοινός (lines 4 and 7) refers to the ‘supreme isonomia’ of death, as Loraux has neatly put it.191 This does not mean that the polis has completely ‘withdrawn’ and that the deceased is commemorated as belonging not to the citizen body but to the community of the dead. Loraux has rightly observed that “following the tragic writers,192 the private epitaphs of the fourth century193 bitterly recognize the universal law in which men’s time is abolished; but it is significant that during the same period the collective epitaphs of the Kerameikos and the epitaphioi also submit to that law the andres agathoi, reduced to the common lot, although for them the dogma of immortality always arises like some deus ex machina.” 194 In other words, fourth-century private epitaphs are mid-way between the undisputable glory conferred on the ἄνδρες ἀγαθοί who died for their fatherland and the post-fourth-century tradition of the inescapablity of death. In fact, _____________ 187 188 189 190

191 192 193 194

Hansen, CEG 593 (p. 82). See Hansen, CEG 593 (p. 82): “contra M. L. West, privatim in ‘Necessity’s Persephone-chamber’ vertit.” Maaß (1895) 273 n. 57. On Ananke in relation to the Orphics and the Pythagoreans, see Onians (1951) 332. On orphic Ananke, see West (1983) 194-198. Maaß (1895) 273: “Es bedarf endlich kaum des Hinweises, dass die orphische Ananke in der Volksvorstellung mit der unerbittlich zwingenden Unterweltsherrin Persephone selbst zusammenfiel.” On the eschatology behind such ‘orphic’ texts as the bacchic gold lamellae, see Graf and Johnston (2007) 94-136; Tzifopoulos (forthcoming, 2008), especially chapter 3. See Loraux (1986) 114. Aesch. Eum. 649-650; Soph. Ant. 361-364. I owe this reference to Loraux (1986) 114. See GVI 1654. I owe this reference to Loraux (1986) 114. Loraux (1986) 114-115.

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fourth-century grave epigrams (like the funeral orations in this respect) create a balance between the inescapability of death, which is the common lot of humans, and a certain ‘fine death’195 that acquires its ‘excellence’ through civic immortality, or rather immortality because civic.196 This epitaph, though, makes one bold step forward. The civic element is undoubtedly present but not on its own. It is fused with eschatological beliefs deriving from a dionysiac-orphic context promising Dionysios’ immortality. The second part of this grave epigram consists of three elegiac couplets. The first is structured on the antithesis between σῶμα and ψυχή. Dionysios, again addressed in the second person (a clear sign that the tone of the previous couplet is continued), is reassured that his immortal soul is at the hands of a common-to-all divine ταμίας (κοινός). The diction is reminiscent of other fourth-century Attic funerary epigrams beginning with σῶμα:197 σῶμα μὲν ἐντὸς γῆ κατέχει, τὴν σωφ|ροσύνην δέ, Xρυσάνθη, τὴν σὴν ὀ | κατέκρυψε τάφος. (CEG 479) σῶμα μὲν ἐνθάδ’ ἔχει σόν, Δίφιλε, γαῖα θανόντο[ς], | μνῆμα δὲ σῆς ἔλιπες πᾶσι δικαιοσύνης. (CEG 549) σῶμα σὸν ἐν κόλποις, Kαλλιστοῖ, γαῖα καλύπτει, | σῆς δὲ ρετῆς μνήμην σοῖσι φίλοις ἔλιπες. (CEG 551) [σ]ῶμα μὲν ἐν κόλποισι κατὰ χθὼν ἥδε καλ[ύπτει] | [Tι]μ̣οκλεί̯ας, τὴν σὴν δὲ ἀρετὴν οὐθεὶς [φθ]ίσε̣ι α̣[ἰών]· | [ἀθά]νατος μνήμη σωφρ[ο]σύνης ἕνε[κ]α. (CEG 611)198

The reference to an immortal soul is common in fourth-century private epitaphs but the σῶμα-ψυχή opposition is not.199 The closest one gets to the σῶμα-ψυχή antithesis is the epigram on Plato’s death (348/347 BCE) by Speusippus:200 Σῶμα μὲν ἐν κόλποις κατέχει τόδε γαῖα Πλάτωνος ψυχὴ δ’ ἰσόθεον τάξιν ἔχει μακάρων …

_____________ 195 196 197 198 199 200

See Vernant (1982) 45-76. See Loraux (1986) 116-117. See Himmelmann-Wildschütz (1956) 28. = ΣΕΜΑ 2459 See Hansen, CEG 483, 535, 555 (?), 558. See Himmelmann-Wildschütz (1956) 28 (AP [App. Plan.] 16.31). A slightly different version of this same epitaph is offered by Diogenes Laertius 3.44 (I, pp. 139, 24-140, 2), AP 7.61: γαῖα μὲν ἐν κόλποις κρύπτει τόδε σῶμα Πλάτωνος, / ψυχὴ δ’ ἀθάνατον τάξιν ἔχει μακάρων / υἱοῦ Ἀρίστωνος, τόν τις καὶ τηλόθι ναίων / τιμᾷ ἀνὴρ ἀγαθός, θεῖον ἰδόντα βίον. See Tarán (1981) 174, and for Speusippus as the author of the epigram, 450 ff.

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Chapter 2 The earth in her bosom holds here the body of Plato, but his soul has its immortal station among the blest …201

Instead of the μνῆμα/μνήμη ἀρετῆς/δικαιοσύνης etc., these two epitaphs clearly refer to an immortal soul202 placed either at the hands of a divine ταμίας (CEG 593.7) or among the blessed ones (Speusippus’ epigram). Interestingly enough, Lysias’ Funeral Oration expresses the same idea: the dead are mourned as mortal because of their nature, but they are praised as immortals because of their virtue.203 In order to make sense of the progressive unraveling of the epitaph’s thematic kernel, we need to turn to the question of the identity of the ταμίας. Peek thinks it is Zeus,204 whereas Hansen seems to imply that it is Hermes.205 Hermes fits appropriately into the framework of Orphic eschatology, which permeates the epitaph. According to Diogenes Laertius (8.31= Pyth. I, 450.27 VS), Hermes is considered to be the ταμίας of souls: τὸν δὲ Ἑρμῆν ταμίαν εἶναι τῶν ψυχῶν καὶ διὰ τοῦτο Πομπέα λέγεσθαι καὶ Πυλαῖον καὶ Xθόνιον, ἐπειδήπερ οὗτος καὶ εἰσπέμπει ἀπὸ τῶν σωμάτων τὰς ψυχὰς ἀπό τε γῆς καὶ ἐκ θαλάττης.206 Stobaeus (1.49.69)207 mentions a psychotamias and a psychopompos: εἰσὶ γὰρ ἄνωθεν οἱ δορυφόροι ὄντες τῆς καθόλου προνοίας, ὧν ὁ μὲν ψυχοτμίας, ὁ δὲ ψυχοπομπός· καὶ ὁ μὲν ψυχοταμίας ψυχῶν **, ὁ δὲ ψυχοπομπὸς ἀποστολεύς τε καὶ διατάκτης τῶν ἐνσεσωματωμένων ψυχῶν. καὶ ὁ μὲν τηρεῖ, ὁ δὲ προΐησι κατὰ γνώμην τοῦ θεοῦ. The above evidence within the nexus of orphic eschatology about the immortality of the soul points to Hermes as the divine ταμίας of human souls.208 As I will show later on when I examine the monument as a

_____________ 201 202

203 204 205 206 207 208

Translation based on Paton (1917). For the immortality of the soul in sepulchral epigrammatic poetry, see Cougny (1890) in Anth. App.: 189.9-10, 332.6-12, 441.1-2, 479.1-4, 536.2-4, 646.12-13, 697.1-3. Lysias, Funeral Oration (2) 80: οἳ πενθοῦνται μὲν διὰ τὴν φύσιν ὡς θνητοί, ὑμνοῦνται δὲ ὡς ἀθάνατοι διὰ τὴν ἀρετήν. Peek (1960) 321 refers to possible tragic influence but the examples begin as early as Homer (Il. 19.224). See Hansen, CEG 593 (p. 82). See Philippart (1930) 549-552. See Wachsmuth’s and Hense’s edition, vol. 1, p. 464. For the role of Hermes as psychopompos-psychagogos, see Farnell (1869-1909) (5) 1-61; Karouzou (1961) 91-106; Kahn (1979) 210-211; Siebert, LIMC s.v. ‘Hermes’ V1: 285-387; Avagianou (2002) 84-88. For ancient testimonies (this is only a brief selection dating to the 4th century BCE): Od. 24.1-4; Homeric Hymn to Hermes (4) 572-573; Aesch. Pers. 628-630, Cho. 1-2; Soph. El. 110-112, OC

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whole, there is even more evidence reinforcing the identification of ταμίας with Hermes. The epitaph resorts to administrative vocabulary stemming from the official catalogs of ταμίαι. One of the standard expressions used in such documents is either παρέλαβον οἱ ταμίαι or τάδε οἱ ταμίαι παραδεξάμενοι.209 Dionysios was an Athenian cleruch at Samos appointed as ταμίας in the Heraion. As the ταμίαι received and kept valuable objects dedicated to the goddess Hera of Samos, so the divine ταμίας receives and keeps hold of the immortal soul of Dionysios. The epigrammatist has deftly used technical language and applied it to a death-context.210 As Dionysios/ταμίας received and kept protected the objects and gifts people dedicated to the gods, so Hermes, the divine ταμίας (ψυχοταμίας), takes care (τηρεῖ) and brings in the souls once they leave the body (εἰσπέμπει ἀπὸ τῶν σωμάτων τὰς ψυχάς). The second couplet refers to the oikos, the deceased’s family, to whom ‘unforgettable’ mourning has been left. The term ἀείμνηστος must be interpreted within the framework of μνήμη ἀθάνατος, which is often materialized in the σῶμα-μνῆμα thematic pair. Conversely, what is unforgettable is the mourning (πένθος) Dionysios has left to his friends and mother, a mourning that will always remind them of his love (φιλίας). This observation should be ‘read’ together with the intensification of the personal element characterizing the entire second part of the epitaph. The abundance of second person pronouns (σόν, σοῖς σῆς, σ’) clearly shows that the second couplet of the first part of the epigram has paved the way for a focus on the particular deceased whose death is commemorated on this stone. This gradual intensification has started with the reference to the community of the dead (3-4), has continued with the mentioning of the immortality of the soul, and is now concentrated on the double ‘identity’ of Dionysios. The deceased has been loved both by his family and by his two fatherlands. His oikos will always remember him for his φιλία, as his two countries cherished him for his σωφροσύνη. Traditional sophistic polarities, like the paradigmatic nomos-physis antithesis, are deftly used in order to complete Dionysios’ commemoration. The deceased has gained a double immortality: his soul will always be deathless at the hands of the divine ταμίας, and his relatives will always remember his φιλία through their mourning. _____________ 209 210

1547-1548; Ar. Plut. 1132. See also the orphic hymns to Hermes (nos. 28 and 57 [Abel]), where the initiate asks the god to make his life’s end ἐσθλόν. See e.g. IG II2 1371, 1374, 1375, 1377 etc. See Hansen, CEG 593, p. 82.

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The orphic beliefs traced in this epitaph (Persephone-Ananke, immortality of the soul)211 have been blended within Eleusinian ritual, which in fourth-century Athens has become extremely prominent. Persephone-Ananke is, for example, a clear manifestation of this blending. In addition to these observations, I would like to focus my attention on the monument the epitaph belongs to, and in particular on the bull placed on the pillar behind the naiskos and the two lions on the right and left. The bull, under which Dionysios’ grave is placed, is a typical Dionysiac symbol.212 The bull-formed Dionysus is an ancient reminiscence of Dionysus as leader of the herd of cattle (Διόνυσος Kαθηγεμών).213 The role of Dionysus as escort and leader is also connected to his interceding with the rulers the Underworld in order to help or save his initiates.214 A krater from Apulia215 of the Darius _____________ 211 212

213

214 215

For orphic lore concerning the origin and fate of the human soul, see Bernabé PEG 2, frs. 421-469 (p. 349-394), especially frs. 425-426. For the connection between Dionysus and Persephone, see Rose (1936) 79-96; Graf (1993) 244. Both scholars think that Persephone’s ‘ancient grief’ in the Pindaric threnos (fr. 133 Snell-Maehler) stems from “the death and dismemberment of the first Dionysus” by the Titans (Graf 1993, 244). There are numerous references to Dionysus as bull or bull-born. I offer some representative examples: Eur. Ba. 1017: φάνηθι ταῦρος, Plut. Aetia Romana et Graeca 299 A10-299 B 11: ‘Διὰ τί τὸν Διόνυσον αἱ τῶν Ἠλείων γυναῖκες ὑμνοῦσαι παρακαλοῦσι βοέῳ ποδὶ παραγίνεσθαι πρὸς αὐτάς; ἔχει δ’ οὕτως ὁ ὕμνος (Anthol. Lyr. Diehll II, p. 206) ‘Ἐλθεῖν, ἦρ’, ὦ Διόνυσε, / ἅλιον ἐς ναόν / ἁγνὸν σὺν Xαρίτεσσιν ἐς ναὸν τῷ βοέῳ / ποδὶ δύων.’ εἷτα δὶς ἐπᾴδουσιν ‘ἄξιε Tαῦρε’. Πότερον ὅτι καὶ βουγενῆ προσαγορεύουσι καὶ ταῦρον ἔνιοι τὸν θεόν; ἢ τῷ μεγάλῳ ποδὶ ‘βοέῳ’ λέγουσιν, ὡς βοῶπιν ὁ ποιητὴς (A 551 et passim) τὸν μεγαλόφθαλμον καὶ ‘βουγάιον’ (N 824, σ 79) τὸν μεγάλαυχον; see also Plut. De Is. et Os. 35: Διὸ καὶ ταυρόμορφα Διονύσου ποιοῦσιν ἀγάλματα πολλοὶ τῶν Ἑλλήνων· αἱ δ’ Ἠλείων γυναῖκες καὶ παρακαλοῦσιν εὐχόμεναι «ποδὶ βοείῳ τὸν θεὸν ἐλθεῖν» πρὸς αὐτάς, Ἀργείοις δὲ βουγενὴς Διόνυσος ἐπίκλην ἐστίν· ἀνακαλοῦνται δ’ αὐτὸν ὑπὸ σαλπίγγων ἐξ ὕδατος ἐμβάλλοντες εἰς τὴν ἄβυσσον ἄρνα τῷ Πυλαόχῳ; Athen. 11.51.2-4: ἀφ’ οὗ τὸν Διόνυσον κερατοφυῆ πλάττεσθαι ὅτι τε ταῦρον καλεῖσθαι ὑπὸ πολλῶν ποιητῶν. ἐν δὲ Kυζίκῳ καὶ ταυρόμορφος ἵδρυται. ‘Taureas’ (bull) is a presonal name derived from the name of the Samian month Tαυρεών. The name Tαυρεών is attested in the local calendars of other Ionian cities but not in Athens. Since Dionysios is connected to Samos, then the bull (Tauros) on his monument may also have a Samian connotation. Graf (1993) 256. Trendall and Cambitoglou (1992); Johnston and McNiven (1996) 25-36. (pl. 1); Avagianou (2002) 91-97; Tzifopoulos (2002) 161-162. See also Bažant and Berger-Doer, LIMC s.v. ‘Pentheus’ VII 1: 315 no. 70; Berger-Doer, LIMC s.v. ‘Oinops’ VII 1: 26 no. 1, s.v. ‘Persis II’ VII 1: 348 no. 1, s.v. ‘Acheta’ VIII 1: 501 no. 1; Krauskopf and Simon, LIMC s.v. ‘Mainades’ VIII 1: 792 (e); Felten, LIMC s.v. ‘Nekyia’ VIII 1: 876 no. 23.

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Painter216 depicting a scene from the Underworld presents a seated Hades having Persephone next to him. Both of them are placed within their palace (which has the shape of a naiskos or aedicula). Dionysus and Hermes are also depicted in this scene but outside the naiskos. Dionysus is holding Hades’ hand either to shake it or to ‘alert the audience’ as Boegehold has neatly put it.217 This may well be indicative of Dionysus’ role as intermediary between the dead initiate (depicted on the other side of the krater within a naiskos or aedicula, which gives the whole scene a strong eschatological meaning)218 and Hades. Hermes (depicted on the side of Persephone) is holding his kerykeion with his left hand and has his right hand placed upon a column.219 It is noteworthy that Hades and Persephone, rulers of the Underworld, have their backs turned against Actaion, Pentheus, and Agave, because of their well-known negative treatment of Dionysus and his cult. On the other side of the krater, the deceased is also placed within a naiskos. He is a naked young man, holding a staff in his right hand, a phiale and a sort of linen in his left hand, and bearing a band on his head. He is looking towards the left. It is highly likely that the dead man was an initiate (μύστης). His placement within the naiskos stands for a sort of private apotheosis.220 These observations are of key importance for the interpretation of CEG 593. In particular, the reference to the immortality of Dionysios’ soul in conjunction with the abundant praise available for the ἄνδρες ἀγαθοί (lines 1-2 of the epitaph) may be connected to the promise the initiate regularly receives in the ‘orphicdionysiac’ golden lamellae concerning his joining the company of heroes.221 In this light, I think that the divine ταμίας holding Dionysios’ soul is Hermes, whose role as ψυχοπομπός/ψυχαγωγός/ψυχοταμίας is well attested and whose connection to orphic Persephone is guaranteed, as the Apuleian krater amply shows. The Dionysiac overtones, which are strongly suggested through the bull and the two lions above and right and left of Dionysios’ naiskos respectively, must be interpreted within _____________ 216 217 218 219 220

221

For Apulian vases and the Darius Painter, see Mayo (1982) 79 ff; Aellen, Cambitoglou, Chamay (1986) 11-175; Moret (1993) 293-300 figs. 1a-1d. Boegehold (1999) 25-26. According to Graf (1993) 256. I agree with Avagianou (2002) 94, who argues that Hermes is placed on Persephone’s side because he is, after all, linked to orphic Persephone. Moret (1993) 314 ft. 136 has shown that heroes and heroines are often placed within a naiskos. For the theme of private apotheosis, see Schauenburg (1989) 57. See Zuntz (1971) B 1, 11, 358-359, 380-381: καὶ τότ’ ἔπειτ’ ἄ[λλοισι μεθ’] ἡρώεσσιν ἀνάξεις.

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the nexus of orphic beliefs reflected in this grave epigram. This is indeed a remarkable case among fourth-century Attic epitaphs, for the imagery of Persephone’s chamber has been used as the platform for the expression of dionysiac-orphic beliefs concerning the immortality of the soul. In CEG 603, the expression Persephone’s chamber is joined to the idea of reciprocity inherent to human-divine relations: (i)

Φιλιτία. | Πολυκράτης Πολυαράτου Κριωεύς. | Πολύμνηστος Πολυαράτου Κριωεύς. (ii) [Νικ]οπτολέμη Νικοκλέους Ἑ[κ]αλῆθεν | [Πο]λυ[μν]ή̣στου Κριωέως γυνή. (iii) σῆς ἀρετῆς, Νικοπτολέμη, χρόνος οὔποτε λ[ύ]σει | μνήμην ἀθάνατον, σῶι πόσει ἣν ἔλιπες· 4 εἰ δέ τις εὐσεβίας παρὰ Φερσεφόνει χάρις ἐστίν, | καὶ σοὶ τῆσδε μέρος δῶκε Τύχη φθιμένει. (i)

Philitia. Polykrates, son of Polyaratos from the deme of Krioa. Polymnestos, son of Polyaratos from the deme of Krioa. (ii) Nikoptoleme, daughter of Nikokles from the deme of Hecale. The wife of Polymnestos from the deme of Krioa. (iii) Time will never, Nikoptoleme, dissolve your virtue’s immortal memory, which you left to your husband; if there is in the abode of Persephone some gratitude for piety, Fortune gave you, when you perished, part of it.

This epitaph was inscribed on a fourth-century marble stele, which had been found in Ἀθηνᾶς street, between the churches of Ἅγιος Ἰωάννης and Ἁγία Eἰρήνη, but has been now lost. The first part of the inscription contains the names of Φιλιτία, Πολυκράτης, and Πολύμνηστος. In the second part, the name of the deceased is designated (Nικοπτολέμη) and is accompanied by her father’s name (Nικοκλῆς) and the deme he belonged to (Ἑκαλῆθεν). Then comes her husband’s name (Πολυμνήστου) and his deme (Kριωέως). This four-verse epitaph has a twofold structure: (a) the first part consists of the first two verses, where the deceased’s name features in the first line together with a rather common expression stating that time (χρόνος) will be unable to defeat the immortal memory of the virtue Nikoptoleme left to her husband. The phrase μνήμη ἀθάνατος, which is also attested in two other fourth-century Attic epitaphs (CEG 591.7-8: … μνή[μην? ?τε λέλοι]πας / ἀθάνατον …; CEG 611.3: [ἀθά]να-

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τος μνήμη),222 is juxtaposed to the relative clause σῶι πόσει ἣν ἔλιπες in the closure of the first elegiac couplet. This placement is confluent with the aural interplay between the second-person personal pronouns (σῆς – σῶι) referring to Nikoptoleme’s virtue and her husband respectively. The composer of the epitaph may well have exploited the acoustics and semantics of the name of the deceased’s husband (Πολύμνηστος: the much remembered one), in order to create a strong bond between husband and wife. In other words, after her death Nikoptoleme left to her husband a lasting memory, the very thing that is inherent in his own name. The immortal memory of Nikoptoleme’s ἀρετή is thus reflected in Polymnestos’ name as a true token of love. The diction of the initial elegiac couplet is traditional, the more so since it reiterates standard funerary vocabulary, which is often, but not exclusively, used in fourth-century oratory: XPONOΣ:223 Dem. Against Androtion (22) 13.9-10: … πολλῶν δὲ καὶ μεγάλων ἀγαθῶν τοῖς ἄλλοις Ἕλλησι κατέστησαν αἴτιοι, ὧν οὐδ’ ὁ χρόνος τὴν μνήμην ἀφελέσθαι δύναται. Dem. Against Aristogeiton 1 (25) 97.3-4: ἐγὼ δὲ τοὺς προγόνους τοὺς ὑμετέρους καὶ τὰς ἀρετὰς τὰς ἐκείνων ἀνακαλῶ, ὧν οὐδ’ ὁ χρόνος τὴν μνήμην ἠφάνικεν, εἰκότως. MNHMH AΘANATOΣ: 1. Herod. 4.144: οὗτος δὲ ὁ Mεγάβαζος εἴπας τόδε [τὸ] ἔπος ἐλίπετο ἀθάνατον μνήμην πρὸς Ἑλλησποντίων. 2. Lys. Funeral Oration (2) 6: τῆσδε μὲν τῆς πόλεως διὰ τὴν ἀρετὴν ἀθάνατον μνήμην ἐποίησαν, τὴν δὲ ἑαυτῶν πατρίδα διὰ τὴν ἐνθάδε συμφορὰν ἀνώνυμον κατέστησαν. 3. Lys. Funeral Oration (2) 81: οἵτινες, ἐπειδὴ θνητῶν σωμάτων ἔτυχον, ἀθάνατον μνήμην διὰ τὴν ἀρετὴν αὑτῶν κατέλιπον. 4. Plato, Symposium 208d5: ἢ προαποθανεῖν τὸν ὑμέτερον Kόδρον ὑπὲρ τῆς βασιλείας τῶν παίδων, μὴ οἰομένους ἀθάνατον μνήμην ἀρετῆς πέρι ἑαυτῶν ἔσεσθαι, ἣν νῦν ἡμεῖς ἔχομεν. 5. Isocr. To Nicocles (2) 37: ἀλλ’ ἐπειδὴ θνητοῦ σώματος ἔτυχες, πειρῶ τῆς ψυχῆς ἀθάνατον τὴν μνήμην καταλιπεῖν. 6. Isocr. Panegyricus (4) 84: καὶ γὰρ ἐκείνων τὰ μὲν σώματα ταῖς τῆς φύσεως ἀνάγκαις ἀπέδοσαν, τῆς δ’ ἀρετῆς ἀθάνατον τὴν μνήμην ἐποίησαν.

_____________ 222

223

The same expression is also attested in only one non-Attic epitaph dating from the 4th century BCE. See CEG 858: … [ἀθ]άνατον μνήμην παισί τε καὶ προγόνοις. See also Simonides fr. 26.4-5 (PMG): ἐντάφιον δὲ τοιοῦτον οὔτ’ εὐρὼς / οὔθ’ ὁ πανδαμάτωρ ἀμαυρώσει χρόνος.

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Chapter 2 7. Isocr. On Peace (8) 94: καὶ γὰρ οἱ πρόγονοι τοιούτους αὐτοὺς παρασχόντες τήν τε πόλιν εὐδαιμονεστάτην τοῖς ἐπιγιγνομένοις παρέδοσαν καὶ τῆς αὐτῶν ἀρετῆς ἀθάνατον τὴν μνήμην κατέλιπον. 8. Isocr. Evagoras (9) 3: ... καὶ πάντα ποιοῦντας, ὅπως ἀθάνατον τὴν περὶ αὑτῶν μνήμην καταλείψουσιν. 9. Isocr. Evagoras (9) 71: … θνητὸς δὲ γενόμενος ἀθάνατον τὴν περὶ αὑτοῦ μνήμην κατέλιπεν …

In almost all of these cases, the context is that of a funeral oration, even if only two examples belong to a real ἐπιτάφιος, i.e. that of Lysias. The common motif employed in these examples refers to the sacrifice of one’s life for the fatherland. Dying on the battlefield in defense of one’s native country constitutes, needless to say, a locus communis of the rhetoric of the ἐπιτάφιοι and, by extension, of fourthcentury oratory, which promotes the same cultural ideal. By employing the language, exploiting the rhetorical constraints and diction of the ἐπιτάφιος (the public commemoration of the war dead) and applying it to a woman, who does not belong at all to the same context, the metrical inscription under discussion contrives to match traditional motifs with the individual commemorated in this stele. The reason for this clever usurpation of traditional material may be seen through the effort of the composer of the epitaph to play with the name of Nikoptoleme (the one who is victorious at war), as he probably did with her husband’s name, Poly-mnestos (the one who is much remembered). The gnomic statement occupying the second elegiac couplet builds on the motif of Persephone’s chamber, which is here denoted by the expression παρὰ Φερσεφόνει. The consolatory nature of this maxim can be seen through the reference to the gratitude (χάρις), part of which (τῆσδε μέρος) Nikoptoleme has already received, as the emphatic καὶ σοὶ (to you also) indicates, after her death. This second elegiac couplet poses a number of interesting questions, which are all extremely important for understanding its connection to the first two verses. First, this is the only case in the extant corpus of fourthcentury Attic epitaphs containing a gnomic statement in the form of an εἰ-clause, where this hypothetically expressed consolatory maxim is not placed at the beginning of the epigram. Moreover, the second couplet is (like the first) replete with expressions and concepts featuring in fourth-century Attic oratory.

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Xάρις is expressed in terms of a reciprocal exchange between Fortune and Nikoptoleme, who is rewarded for her piety (εὐσέβεια).224 But as is the case with Euripides’ Alcestis, this χάρις is undermined by the lack of an initial χάρις, since Nikoptoleme had lost her life after all.225 Xάρις is no more the result of a reciprocal exchange inherent in the archaic and early classical notion of the term but the outcome of Tyche’s ambiguous hovering and involvement in human life. Having denied χάρις to Nikoptoleme in the first place, Tyche now, ironically and asymmetrically, endows her with a share of χάρις in the Underworld. By following the common opposition in rhetorical practice between reality and illusion, the irony acquires a more bitter tone. The composer of the epigram may in fact be playing with the idea that Tyche’s ironical offering of a share of χάρις to Nikoptoleme in exhange for her piety is illusive not only for the deceased but for Tyche as well. This is why the gnomic εἰ-statement is placed after the first elegiac couplet, where the real award for Nikoptoleme lies. The deceased woman has left to her husband μνήμην ἀθάνατον, which does not need the ‘help’ of Tyche in order to be gracefully acknowledged. Nikoptoleme’s arete has ‘defeated’ time, making her memory undying, regardless of whether Tyche has partly granted her χάρις in return to the piety she showed during her lifetime, and as a surplus of reward for Nikoptoleme. The real χάρις for Nikoptoleme will be that her husband will always cherish her memory because of her ἀρετή. This is indeed a nice touch of pathos, a truly remarkable but sophisticated way of highlighting the importance of one’s remembrance among the living and not in the world beyond. The hidden presence of the deceased woman below the earth, which is usually highlighted through the σῆμα, has become a figurative ‘presence’ among the living, through the μνήμη ἀθάνατος she will bestow upon her husband.226 By underscoring a theme of fundamental importance for the rhetoric of both the inscribed and the literary sepulchral epigram, Nikoptoleme’s funerary inscription makes full use of the imagery of Persephone’s chamber in order to present the deceased’s real measure of praise, her living memory in her husband’s heart. The gravesite might very well have contributed to the underscoring of Nikoptoleme’s ‘extended presence’ among the living. Unfortunately, the grave monument has _____________ 224 225

226

For χάρις, see Hewitt (1924a) 35-51, (1924b) 142-161, (1924c) 30-48; Maclachlan (1993) 151-160. See Eur. Alc. 744-746: … εἰ δέ τι κἀκεῖ / πλέον ἔστ᾽ ἀγαθοῖς, τούτων μετέχουσ᾽ / Ἅιδου νύμφῃ παρεδρεύοις. I owe this parallel to Zumin (1975) 366. See Bruss (2005) 30-34.

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not survived the perils of time but the extra metrum mention of her name next to her family members is an indirect reminder for her dear ones of her undying memory.

Chapter 3 Public Display, Private Focus: Redefining Social Virtues Ἀρετή and σωφροσύνη are the most often attested abstract concepts in fourth-century Attic grave epigrams, since the former features no less than 32 times1 and the latter 23.2 Their use within a funerary context is already known from the fifth century, where the relevant numbers are 6 and 2 respectively.3 This significant difference regarding the frequency by which these two principal virtues are attested in grave epigrams of the 5th and 4th centuries in Attica clearly reveals their increasing importance for fourth-century Athenian society. Before embarking on an examination of their typology in fourth-century grave epigrams, we should briefly dwell on the semantic field in which they both belong. This method becomes all the more indispensable, since we shall see how historical and political changes stemming from the Peloponnesian war rapidly and drastically altered the very foundations of the Athenian city-state, effectuating a re-channeling of interest from the field of civic activity to that of familyoriented interest. In this light, old-time aristocratic virtues, such as ἀρετή and σωφροσύνη, were transformed into an incipient ‘privatized-world’, for which fourth-century Athens provided the necessary seedbed.

Towards a Τypology of ἀρετή and σωφροσύνη Both ἀρετή and σωφροσύνη belong to a system or canon of virtues, which had been considered of cardinal importance since the archaic _____________ 1 2 3

CEG 474, 483, 490, 491, 493-495, 497, 510-511, 512, 513.3 and 4, 516, 518, 524, 527, 542, 551-552, 554, 561, 568, 585, 589, 594, 599, 600, 603, 608, 611, 624. CEG 479, 480, 486, 494-495, 518, 531, 542, 548.3 and 7, 554, 560, 568, 573, 577, 584, 585, 590, 593.11, 599, 604, 611, 624. Ἀρετή: CEG 69, 81, 83, 92, 96, 99; σωφροσύνη: CEG 96, 102 and CEG 67, 69 (σώφρων, σώφρονα).

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period. In late archaic and during a significant part of the classical period, ἀρετή and σωφροσύνη were basically deemed civic virtues pertaining to an aristocratic Weltanschauung. In the case of Athens the tyranny of the Thirty and the negative role Athenian oligarchy played under these circumstances resulted in a redirection of ἀρετή and σωφροσύνη towards the large democratic basis of Athenian society. This ‘democratization’ of σωφροσύνη constitutes the trademark 4 of fourth-century Athens and signifies a society in transition, where the restoration of the σώφρων πολιτεία 5 was by far the highest priority in the political agenda, even at a time, when the rise of Macedon would soon make such internal political dichotomies sound pointless. Next to this new civic aspect of ἀρετή and σωφροσύνη, which were now translated into the democratic vocabulary of λειτουργίαι (the services offered to the state by the citizens), we may observe the emergence of a family-oriented form of ἀρετή and σωφροσύνη. The sheer number of private tombstones in fourth-century Athens, to use an example directly relevant to this study, shows that the πολυάνδρια which constituted the main form of commemoration of the war dead are no more in the foreground of attention, but have given their place to an increasing concern for the individual as a family member. The hidden presence of the deceased is still important but rather for his family members, friends and dear ones and not for the state. This being the case, ‘inoffensive behavior in private life’6 is the other, privately oriented, new aspect of ἀρετή and σωφροσύνη in fourthcentury Athens. One new characteristic of ἀρετή and σωφροσύνη was the preservation of a delicate balance between hate for oligarchy and love for democracy on the one hand, and wise and responsible social behavior both in public and private life on the other.7 Being μέτριος and κόσμιος implies that excessive ἀρετή and σωφροσύνη may well lead to haughtiness and arrogant pride, which is what has brought about the downfall of Athens in the recent past.8 One of the most important differences between the function of Athenian and Spartan society concerned the eagerness of the former to undertake risky enterprises and always aim higher and the procrastination of the latter in making im_____________ 4 5 6 7 8

North (1966) 135. Aeschin. On the Embassy (2) 176. North (1966) 136. See North (1966) 136, who cites Lys. (16.3 and 16.10 ff. and 26.4-5) as examples of this new form of conduct. On μέτριος and κόσμιος as foil terms for σωφροσύνη, see North (1966) 136138.

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portant decisions, their hesitation in front of great challenges. Athenian πολυπραγμοσύνη (hyperactivism, interventionism),9 εὐβουλία (good counsel, soundness of judgment, prudence),10 δραστήριον (capable of effective action) are starkly opposed to Spartan ἀπραγμοσύνη (inactivity), ἡσυχία (stillness, inertia, peace), μέλλησις (procrastination).11 The impact of the painful memories of the Athenian defeat in the Peloponnesian war was so great that these Athenian virtues were held ‘responsible’ for their defeat, whereas the equivalent Spartan values became less and less negatively colored. To press this point further, it was the excessive application of the so-called Athenian virtues that was considered to be one of the main reasons for Athenian failure, whereas certain Spartan values started acquiring gradually a rather positive weight. Sheltered under the umbrella of μεσότης, μετριότης and κοσμιότης, the old-time virtues of ἀρετή and σωφροσύνη began to be reinterpreted in fourth-century Athens, in an attempt to obliterate dangerous excessiveness leading to pride and arrogance. Understanding the way these values are used in fourth-century Attic grave epigrams is of paramount importance for interpreting both their typology and function. A survey of all fourth-century Attic grave epigrams shows that ἀρετή and σωφροσύνη are expressed by the same system of formulas. This system includes the following standardized phrases, which I will examine in due order: (a) μετέχειν or μέρος ἔχων/ἔχουσα ἀρετῆς and/or σωφροσύνης + numerals (b) ἀσκεῖν ἀρετήν/σωφροσύνην (c) αὐξάνειν ἀρετήν/σωφροσύνην (d) μνημεῖον ἀρετῆς/σωφροσύνης (e) κλέος + ἀρετή/σωφροσύνη

(a) μετέχειν or μέρος ἔχων/ἔχουσα ἀρετῆς and/or σωφροσύνης + Quantitative Terms The use of the verb μετέχειν and the genitive of ἀρετή/σωφροσύνη in the sense of ‘sharing, participating’ acquires a specific tone, which _____________ 9 10 11

I am following the translation by Raaflaub (2006) 195 and 203 respectively. See LSJ s.v. I. See also Tsakmakis (2006) 180. One of the most famous passages where these differences are antithetically epitomized is the second speech of the Corinthians to the Spartans in Th. 1.68-72.

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must be interpreted in the light of the expressions μέρος ἔχων/ἔχουσα ἀρετῆς and/or σωφροσύνης and the use of quantitative terms for ἀρετή and/or σωφροσύνη. Breuer12 has argued that expressions of the form μέρος + genitive aim at assigning great significance to certain values, so as to show how much the deceased endorsed them. From this perspective, traditional virtues become individualized and, in this context, oriented to the deceased. What Breuer’s theory does not explain is (a) why μέρος is so often attested in inscribed epitaphs from fourth-century Attica and (b) why it refers preeminently to ἀρετή and/or σωφροσύνη.13 A full list of the relevant expressions runs as follows: CEG 480: [σ]ωφροσ[ύνης πλε]ῖ[στον καὶ φιλί]ας μετέχων14 CEG 540: πλεῖστον ἔχυσα μέρς ε[κλεια σωφροσύνης]15 CEG 554: ἑπτὰ βίου δεκάδας πᾶσιν φίλος οὐθένα | λυπῶν / σωφροσύνης τε ἀρετῆς τε δικαιο|σύνης τε μετασχὼν / τῆς κοινῆς μοίρας πᾶ|σιν ἔχω τὸ μέρος. CEG 604: Kλεαγόρα, πλείστης σωφροσύνης [μέτοχος]

According to LSJ, the word μέρος basically denotes: (Ia) a share, a portion; (Ib) heritage, lot, destiny.16 It is often attested in fourth-century oratory in reference to a portion or share of one’s property (οὐσία). In Isaeus, μέρος is often found in the genitive or accusative in expressions where the verb λαγχάνω (to receive a share of, to get possession of something) is employed:17 5.16: διὰ δὲ ταῦτα ἔδοξέ τε ἡμῖν λαχεῖν τοῦ κλήρου κατ’ ἀγχιστείαν, καὶ ἐλάχομεν τὸ μέρος ἕκαστος. 7.20: ταύτῃ μὲν οὖν οὐδὲ μέρους λαχεῖν προσῆκε, Θρασυβούλῳ δὲ ἁπάντων… 7.23: ταῦτα τῶν νόμων κελευόντων ὁ μὲν ἀνὴρ ὢν οὐδὲ τοῦ μέρους εἴληχεν 8.37: … τῆς οὐσίας, μέρος πολλοστὸν τούτῳ μεταδιδοὺς … 11.23: διαρρήδην κελεύων τοῦ μέρους ἕκαστον λαγχάνειν …

_____________ 12 13 14 15 16

17

Breuer (1995) 45. It is occasionally used with δικαιοσύνη (CEG 586). See the supplements offered by Peek in GVI 420. See Peek GVI 340. I deliberately do not include Th. 2.37 (οὐκ ἀπὸ μέρους τε πλέον ἐς τὰ κοινὰ ἢ ἀπ’ ἀρετῆς προτιμᾶται) in my examination, as I side with Gomme, Rhodes, Rusten, and Hornblower who interpret ἀπὸ μέρους as meaning ‘in rotation’ and not as meaning ‘on the basis of part’, ‘sectionally’, ‘according to rank or family’. See Hornblower (1997) 300. See Denommé (1968) 76-77 s.v. μέρος. A rather different use of μέρος is attested in Dem. Against Meidias (21) 165, who has both ἐν χάριτος μέρει καὶ δωρειᾶς and ἐν εὐεργεσίας ἀριθμήσει μέρει.

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Increased concern about family issues is often, as the above examples amply show, property-oriented. The use of the verb λαγχάνω calls attention to the fact that in ancient Greek the allotment of a portion of property was expressed in diction similar to the allotment of one’s destiny.18 The famous Phrasikleia epigram (CEG 24) is one of the oldest attestations of the metaphorical use of λαγχάνω in inscribed epitaphs: σε̃μα Φρασικλείας. | κόρε κεκλέσομαι | αἰεί, ἀντὶ γάμο | παρὰ θε¸ο̃ν τοῦτο | λαχο̃σ’ ὄνομα. [This is] the sema of Phrasikleia. I will always be called a kore, having been alloted this name from the gods instead of a marriage.

The double meaning of μέρος is also attested in a fourth-century inscribed epitaph from Athens (CEG 541). The text reads as follows: (i)

καὶ ζῶσαι πλούτου πατρικοῦ μέρος | εἶχον ὁμοίως, τὴν αὑτῶν φιλίαν καὶ | χρήματα ταὔτ’ ἐνόμιζον. (ii) [οὐ]δ̣ένα λυπήσασα, τέκνων δ’ ἐπιδοῦσ|[α ἔτι] παῖδας τῆς κοινῆς μοίρας πᾶσ|[ιν ἔχ]ε̣ι̣ τὸ μέρος. (iii) […]οστράτη, Mελινὼ []νος Ἀναφλυστ[ίου].

4

(i)

While they were alive, they had in like manner a portion of their fa ther’s wealth, considering both their love and possessions to be the same thing. (ii) Having brought sadness to nobody, and having seen in addition children from her own children, / she has a portion of the fate common to all. (iii) [Phil]ostrate, Melino […] from Anaphlystos.

According to Kaibel,19 it is the girl commemorated in the second distich who died first. When this second sister died, her own name was probably added to that of her sister, as it can be inferred from the fact that both distichs have been inscribed by the same hand during the same period. The first distich aimed at underscoring the fact that the equality both sisters enjoyed in property issues during their lifetime 20 _____________ 18 19 20

The very name of one of the three Fates (whose Greek name Mοῖραι indicates a part or portion [Philostratos). The wordplay is here orchestrated not by the deceased’s real name but by his nickname NεŒολλαρίων, which is etymologized from *NεόλλοςPhiloxenos>Philos tra tos. Cf. Lysias Ἀπολογία δωροδοκίας ἀπαράσημος (21) 24 for the wordplay between πατήρ and πατρίς. I owe this reference to Strauss (1993) 49. See Clairmont (1970) 83-84, plate 9. Clairmont is wrong to translate Nε¸ολλαρίων as ‘Little Babbler’. Humphreys (19932) 108 commits the same mistake. See Bechtel (1917) 281-284; Peek (1938) 30-31; Vérilhac (1978) 172 (no. 108), (1982) 137 (§ 67).

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Chapter 4 For this reason Euphranor was truly a man fortunate in life, since he died177 first and went to the House of Hades being envied for his happiness by many men.

The twice-repeated name of the deceased (Εὐφράνωρ) is accompanied by two three-syllable adjectives (εὐδαίμων-εὐαίων) creating an extended chiasmus (εὐδαίμων - Εὐφράνωρ - εὐαίων - Εὐφράνωρ). This alliterative pun, which is also exploiting the semantics of Εὐφράνωρ (

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