Medea - Sympathy for the She-Devil?

Euripides' play Medea was first presented at the city Dionysia in 431 as part of a customary set of four including Philoctetes, Dictys and the satyr play The Reapers and was awarded third prize. I have been reading the Loeb version of David Kovacs which as is to be expected with this series, respectable and workmanlike if a little flat upon occasion. It may not be entirely due to the translator who is often having to carve a reasonably straight path on varied and troubled waters, the least of his/her problems being corruptions or lacuna is the extant MSS. But I think that the play itself seems a very perfunctory affair, with its right on cue almost telegraphed moments, Medea wondering where she can go once Creon has announced her exile and Aegeus the aged king of Athens promptly entering by Eisodos A dressed in travellers garb, the NPCs, Nurse and Chorus Leader chivvying things along at an almost painting by numbers pace. The only exceptions to this are some of the long speeches given to Medea which are quite remarkable for their expression of passionate torment and inner turmoil of a woman caught within the cruel and constrictive cage of male social order. The same can be said for the longer and heated exchanges between her and Jason at the centre of the short play. It seems that she has no choice but to be 'mad and bad' and pursue the terrible actions she commits - and that is the curious point of my title here - should we have sympathy with her and how much? Can we have much real sympathy for a mere human agent acting out the squabbling of the gods, Hera and Athena versus Zeus/Themis/Artemis? In short, why would we care? We are witnessing the actions of an instrument - an automaton as messenger of divine vengeance or will - is Medea in there? And if we can salvage some independent will can our sympathy therefore take us with her to the slaying of her own children as an act of feminist defiance?

 If we remember from our last text and Apollonius Rhodius' background, in Book III of The Voyage of Argo, Hera and Aphrodite are wringing their hands over how they might aid Jason to get the Golden Fleece and hit upon the ruse of getting Aphrodite to send Cupid to loose an arrow into Medea and cause her to fall in love with Jason and therefore do anything to aid him in his quest, in some traditions, going as far as fratricide to do so. So already we have Medea acting under the influence as it were and not in control and therefore not wholly responsible for her actions. In Euripides play line 16 of the Nurses speech, 'now all is enmity, and love's bonds are diseased. For Jason, abandoning his own children and my mistress is bedding down in a royal match, having married the daughter of Creon, ruler of this land. Poor Medea, finding herself cast aside, calls loudly on his oaths, invokes the mighty assurance of his sworn right hand, and calls the gods to witness the unjust return she is getting from Jason.' And the Gods? Zeus will be her advocate as the Chorus states (l.148) and might Themis and lady Artemis are enjoined to see what Medea suffers.

We remember that Jason did not cut a particularly consistent figure as hero in the Voyage of Argo and at the expense of making him all too human, Apollonius arouses our slight misgivings about him, there not being something quite right, not 100% hero material about him, a whiff of inconsistency or even as if borne out in Euripides handling of Jason, one of inconstancy - or at the very least brutal male sexual realpolitik. For that reason we are not given to seeing Jason in a particularly warm light either. So where did the sympathies of the ancient audience lie? Is it useful to retrofit the play with such relatively modern confabulations such as feminist critique and paint Medea as a proto or in the words of some the first feminist figure in western literature? Is this the reason for the plays lasting popularity resonance and fascination throughout its modern reception? That may account for us, but I repeat; what on earth did the original audience make of this play? What was Euripides up to? Is Medea an example of the danger of barbarian wives, steeped in the mystery of the east (she is usually depicted in Eastern garb with potion mixing paraphernalia from a very early period) but lethal and prone to magic/poison when her wrath is stirred? Or is Medea, Euripides way of throwing a light on the unfair and constricting social conventions of (male dominated) Athenian society? It did come third after all so if anything there were reasons for it failing to receive first prize. What were they? Was there a great difference in quality between the first second and third prizes? Perhaps it was the shocking violence of the slayings in the play deviously schemed and ruthlessly carried out, albeit with a very momentary flicker of motherly remorse and hesitation. The play end quite as abruptly as it opens and it all feels a bit too slick almost 2 dimensional in plot terms - especially when compared with Sophocles Antigone for example. Much to discuss as usual!

Euge!

Sex and violence on the open seas: Apollonius Rhodius' Argonautica Books I and II

Euge!

The first two books of Apollonius are replete with bizarre encounters and sudden extreme acts of violence, the visit to the isle of Lemnos, where the women folk have slain the entire male population, fierce hand to hand fights with outlandish six armed creatures, a freakish night battle in which the Argonauts slay their erstwhile hosts by mistake and a ring-side seat at a beach rumble ending in a nail-biting scene right out of the Fist of the North Star! Its vivid language adds to the excitement with the action carried along by liberal sprinklings of contracted and elided conjunctions.  I am referring to the fight between Amycus the bullying tyrant of the warlike tribe of the Bebryces and Polydeuces – the Rocky Balboa of his age. Here in Book II. 90-95, at the end of a long and drawn out punch drunk grapple with Polydeuces, Amycus meets his end.

‘And now Amycus, rising tiptoe like a man felling an ox, stretched up to his full height and brought his heavy fist down on the other. But Polydeuces dodged the blow by a turn of his head, taking the forearm on the edge of his shoulder. Then, closing warily, he landed him a lightning blow above the ear and smashed the bones inside. Amycus collapsed on his knees in Agony; the Minyan lords raised a shout of triumph; and in a moment the man was dead.’                             (From E.V.Rieu’s Translation)

E.V. Rieu’s spirited and pacy rendering is quite freewheeling and as a result tends to lose some of the verbal richness and echo play of the Iliad and Odyssey, the epic forerunners and inspirational source material for Apollonius. At the end of the excerpt above he renders the Homeric tinged phrasing of the original with a pretty bald ’then he died’ type of bathetic statement. The original quasi-epic Greek has him, ‘pouring out his spirit in a torrent’, vividly combining the loss of his soul and most of his life blood – and without the the ancient Greek we lose the impact of the grisly onomatopoeia of the death punch with the verb at the end of the descriptive phrase, ‘ ostea d’eisou..rexen’. The whole passage is full of the abbreviated chopped off connective/adversative particle  de (d’), giving the impression that the narrator can hardly get his words out due to the breathless excitement and the sheer speed of the action on front of his eyes. It could have come right out of 3rd Century BC sports commentary of a boxing match! To be fair to Rieu, he has followed the path of most modern translators who remove a lot of the conjunctions and particles that would be superfluous or even obstructive to rhythms of English, but in the ancient (faux-epic Alexandrine?) Greek makes so much of the atmosphere and provides vivid and exciting pacing devices, especially in action scenes like the beach rumble with Arch-thug Amycus.

Callimachus and Apollonius - The Short and Long of it

Xaire!

It seems that I have been overdoing the lentus in umbra a bit so I thought I would post a little by way of background to our next text reading of the Argonautica of Apollonius of Rhodes (born 295 BCE). Apollonius was a protege or erstwhile pupil to the Alexandrian scholar-poet Callimachus of Cyrene (born 310 BCE) the former being the younger presumably even though by all scholarly accounts Callimachus outlived his mentee and rival. Yes rivals for it seems that at first the two got on rather well but later became antagonists and even according to some traditions bitter enemies.

There are two strands to this rivalry or perhaps one with two branches, an artistic feud over whether short richly allusive poetic works (the sort we tend to associate the Hellenistic age with) were superior to the longer epic (in the vein of Homeric homage) type works, and a more personal level to and fro-ing based on the fact that Callimachus was passed over for promotion at the library of Alexandria when Ptolemy II Eugertes favoured Apollonius for the position of chief librarian. Its really difficult to judge how much of this is genuine history since our only real source of biographical information for both men apart from the odd snippet deduced from the fragments of poetry themselves (in Callimachus' case especially) comes from the Suda (Greek for Fortress or Stronghold), a 10th Century Byzantine encyclopedia of the ancient mediterranean world.

The information contained therein is culled from a variety of conflicting sources over a thousand years after the death of both men and so we should be careful not to take the embellishments too much at face value. The argument  for which they have come to symbolize or stand as representative poles, namely the chestnut of long versus short poetical works of the period, had been going on before their birth and continued to rage on through the remainder of the Hellenistic period (323-30 BCE).

I have been reading Callimachus' collected fragments, the Aetia (causes), Iambi, Hecale and others and despite the text coming across as having been through a shredder, peppered with lacunae and untranslatable segments it is often very interesting and makes for fascinating and upon occasion moving reading.The poetical feud seems in evidence from time to time as one reads through the fragmented remains and Callimachus does make the odd barbed comment against longer types of poetical works and by extension their authors.

In Aetia, Against the Telechines l.16-18 he states '...but poems are sweeter for being short (mellikroterai). Begone, you baneful race of jealousy! hereafter judge poetry by (the canons) of art, and not by the Persian chain.' 

It is interesting to note that the Telechines was another name for the inhabitants of Crete, Rhodes, Sicyon, Ceos or Cyprus...all famed for beating out items from copper and for being mischievous sorcerers - Apollonius was known to have self exiled himself to Rhodes following a falling out with Callimachus so this could be a subtle side swipe at the younger poet as a 'hammerer' of his own poetry to form newer mongrel type genres. 

Callimachean poetry is very rich in allusions and is doubly mysterious due to the fragmentary nature and the obscurity of the references. Callimachus loves to allude to myth wherever possible and where it isn't he just shoehorns one in anyway - probably in order to demonstrate his incredibly deep and detail mythological and poetic erudition. The meters add an extra dimension to his work and are highly complex and delicately intricate, bound up very cleverly with the theme of the individual poem - a good example of this would be the stichic archebouleion metre employed in the lyric poem The Deification of Arsinoé, the sister and wife of Ptolemy II Philadelphos who died in 270 BCE. 

Arsinoe and Ptolemy II Philadelphos

A diaresis comes after the third anapest, which is a line division that coincides with the end of a word, so that there is a trailing continuation of an extra couple of words at the end of a particular line, or a false ending feeling with something trailing after - this is used to striking effect in this poem since much of its rolling , flowing and speeding imagery is evocative of the dead queen's spirit flying up into the sky beyond the astral heights as it coils up from within the trailing smoke columns of her funeral pyre. This kind of poetry is so rich and complex on so many levels that it's clear that it could not really be sustained in the context of longer epic works. Perhaps this is why the two genres were considered to be poles apart and hence each had its ardent adherents and aggressive detractors - and also why the two men, for better or worse, came to be crystallised as its representative combatants.

It may also have been the view of many Alexandrian scholar-poets that, since it was impossible to outdo or even emulate the Homeric epics, they should rather seek out other poetic avenues of their own such as the intense and richly allusive lyric poetry of Callimachus. Paradoxically it is just as likely that the same conclusion had driven his pupil Apollonius in the opposite direction in an attempt to do something new with the Homeric epic format, in the process arguably creating one of the literary worlds' earliest quasi-novelistic treatments of mythological subject matter.

By all accounts Apollonius appears to have been the more successful (in some ways) in his poetic and creative reaction to the Homeric literary gauntlet and his epic work the Voyage of the Argo went on in later antiquity to inspire the Roman epic poets, Virgil and Lucan amongst others. Euge!

Virgil's Eclogues - A mixed bag of radical Theocritan riffs

Salve! I have read and reread the Eclogues a few times now and looked at the Latin closely too and I can’t help agreeing in essence with Samuel Johnson (more of him later) and his judgement of the whole work as uneven with flashes of brilliant innovation. Virgil’s Beano Album maybe? Or more possibly his Truth Album to continue the early British rock guitarist (Eric Clapton and Jeff Beck respectively) parallels. I feel that Virgil is more Beck than Clapton but that is a purely anachronistic and personal observation! Besides, I am known to be biased towards Lucan as the great(est) unsung prodigy of Roman epic hexameter. Nevertheless it cannot be denied that with the Eclogues we are in the presence of the master, or at the very least a master even it does smack more of a sweaty guitar work out in the garage than the later Aeneidan Rhaspsody of the next few years of Virgil’s career.

 The Eclogues (literally ‘accounts, records or drafts’) thought to have been composed sometime between 44 and 38 BCE must have made quite an impression at the time. To take an Alexandrian favourite of the Roman poets, the Idylls of Theocritus of Sicily (c. 270 BCE) and use it as a framework or background to reflect political issues of the day (Eclogues I and X which seem to doorframe the Arcadian rustic wordplay of the intervening eclogues) was a truly innovative and radical step – no-one but Virgil could have dared to attempt the chops.

 It’s difficult to know whether or not one can say that the experiment was a success since, how are we to judge something so utterly new in the context of its own time? It’s also difficult to ascertain just exactly what Virgil is doing with the Pastoral genre – a highly mythologised and ideal non-existent rustic paradise – as a backdrop for farm evictions and the not so distant rumbling of war and its devastating and disrupting force to the countryside. Do we therefore judge the Eclogues as reinterpretations or homages to Theocritan idyll for a sophisticated Roman readership/audience? How political are or were they? Is the interchange between Tityrus and Meliboeus in Eclogue I meant to underline the inequity of the land confiscations or its unexpected and welcome munificence? Both perhaps…’deus nobis haec otia fecit’ with Octavian/Augustus obliquely referenced here. There are some subtle sub-narratives going in the texts concerning the role of the poet, and fame in posterity as well as the wider meaning of poetry and its purpose which I think fare better as lightly disguised thought experiments but it is a rocky road kind of trip for sure.

The format/style of the eclogues is amoebaean bucolic hexameter (interlinked exchanges of poetry by two or more voices, each taking up the ending line or theme of the preceding singer singing contests between shepherds singing of thwarted love, the golden age to come, or just singing matches in front of a judge for the best rustic poetaster – all in a landscape positively groaning under the weight of honey dripping bees hives and piles of sweating wool stained with creamy milk. Phew!

 There is not much in terms of technical theatrics that is not present in Theocritus – the difference being Virgil’s polish and flashy word play. There is more emphasis on Eros as love as opposed to the lust, wild abandon and slapstick buggery of the idylls and has been replaced by something more elevated and possibly blander in comparison. And this is where I return to Samuel Johnson (1709-84) who penned a lit crit review of sorts of the Eclogues for issue 92 of the Adventurer issue dated September 22, 1753 – who had it appears similar misgivings to my own about the unevenness of the work despite its flashes of brilliance.

He has this to say in his preamble of Virgil’s use of the Theocritan model:-

 ‘Virgil, however, taking advantage of another language, ventured to copy or to rival the ‘Sicilian bard’: he has written with greater splendour of diction, and elevation of sentiment: but as the magnificence of his performances was more, the simplicity was less; and, perhaps, where he excels Theocritus, he sometimes obtains his superiority by deviating from the pastoral character, and performing what Theocritus never attempted.’

He goes on to express his concerns:-

 ‘But though his general merit has been universally acknowledged, I am far from thinking all the productions of his rural Thalia equally excellent; there is, indeed, in all his pastorals a strain of versification which it is vain to seek in any other poet; but if we except the first and the tenth, they seem liable either wholly or in part to considerable objections.’

He likes the first Eclogue principally on the grounds of its innovation ‘by deviating from the pastoral character, and performing what Theocritus never attempted.’ but here are his comments (in periphrasis with apologies) of the others in brief.

Eclogue II: Corydon and Alexis and their unmentionable if forgivable love…but for Mr. Johnson, soggy lettuce leaves rather than the verdant shoots of desire.

III: The singing contest between two shepherds. Basically not much cop and he considered the invective a bit below the dignity of pastoral. The thought immediately springs to mind; had he actually read the Idylls (in particular see: Idylls V, Comatas [41], [43])?

IV: Poem to Pollio. It is filled with ‘images at once splendid and pleasing, and is elevated with grandeur of language worthy of the first of Roman poets. ’Johnson however finds ridiculous the idea for the return of the golden age to be predicated upon the birth of his son  and is convinced that ‘so wild a fiction’ had another purpose, probably involving Emperors hind quarters and tongue (editors irreverent notes).

V: Daphnis. Thumbs up as pastoral elegies go although he can’t resist having a side swipe with this ‘yet whoever shall read it with impartiality, will find that most of the images are of the mythological kind, and therefore easily invented; and that there few sentiments of rational praise or natural lamentation.’ He seems a tad demanding here since what more could you expect from an artificial paradise such as pastoral pretends to? Perhaps like me he feels that the genre just cannot carry the politics too easily. Perhaps even Virgil realised that after penning Eclogues I and X (possibly composed first) and decided to riff closer to the Theocritan model for the other sections.

VI: Tityrus addresses Varus, a soldier (?) and after starting off with war as a potential theme admits it to be too heavy for the pastoral mode and opts for a drunken and charming tale of a drunken Silenus tangoed while sleeping off the booze by a couple of Arcadian ne’er do wells called Chromis and Mnasyllos. Johnson’s reaction to this eclogue can be summarised as a wtf moment, ‘the fiction of Silenus seems injudicious: nor has any sufficient reason yet been found, to justify his choice of those fables that make the subject of the song.’ It would be like having a death metal band Cradle of Filth for example or Slipknot suddenly change gear into a soulful mandolin rendition of Summer Holiday by Cliff Richard. Wtf indeed.

VIII: Johnson doesn’t even consider this an original piece of work being lifted from Theocritus practically with no changes except to render it bland and pointless, ‘Of the eighth pastoral, so little is properly the work of Virgil, that he has no claim to other praise or blame, than that of a translator.’ The tried and trusted stock pastoral themes of the cruelty of love…the track on this rustic goat path must be well worn.

IX: Samuel is confused again with this one, ‘...it is scarce possible to discover design or tendency; it is said, I know not upon what authority, to have been composed from fragments of other poems…..there is nothing that seems appropriated to any time or place, or of which any other use can be discovered than to fill up the poem. In short, Arcadian puffery.

X: See I. ‘the first and tenth pastorals, whatever be determined of the rest, are sufficient to place their author above the reach of rivalry. The complaint of Gallus disappointed in his love, is full of such sentiments a disappointed love naturally produces; his wishes are wild, his resentment is tender, and his purposes are inconstant. In the genuine language of despair, he soothes himself awhile with the pity that shall be paid him after his death.’

Johnson reserves his warmest praise for the first Eclogue, one which he views as the most successful and convincing in tone, ‘I cannot forbear to give preference to the first, which is equally natural and more diversified. The complaint of the shepherd, who saw his old companion at ease in the shade, while himself was driving his flock he knew not whither, is such as, with variation of circumstances, misery always utters at the sight of prosperity;

Nos patriae fines, et dulcia linquimus arra;

Nos patrium fugimus: Tu Tityre, lentus in umbra

Formosam resonare doces Amaryllida sylvas. Ec.i.3.

‘Lentus in umbra’…this summer’s motto!

Vale!

Episthenes - elite warrior and lover of boys

Episthenes – Elite Fighter and Lover of Boys

Euge!

For I moment I thought I was mistaken about the provenance of this intriguing and dramatic vignette, having mentioned it a few weeks to a fellow Legendite. I did get the story slightly wrong. My memory had added a horse for some reason (echoes of Peter Shaffer’s 1973 play ‘Equus’), but I got the atmosphere about right. A beautiful boy, his admirer offering his neck to him and the life of both spared. It’s a curious and erotically charged vision on the battle scarred frozen slopes of Thracia, in stark contrast (or perhaps parallel) to the cruelty and wanton blood lust of Seuthes.

I give the text in translation taken from public domain sources. It is relatively unusual to openly cite the soldier as a paederastes and perhaps Xenephon’s reason for including this is to contrast the love between soldiers and youths or close bonds between males based on love with that of the cruel and heartless attitudes common amongst barbarians such as the barbarian leaders the Greeks found themselves fighting with and against.

It’s a peculiar and strangely alluring scene which for me really stuck in the memory – possibly because of the idea of an overriding passion and spontaneous offer of a warrior’s life for the love of a beautiful boy about to be needlessly slain; for the ideal of beauty and the promise of love to lay one’s life on the line. It may well have been merely a dramatic gesture on Episthenes’ part and not so much of a gamble since, after all, as an elite mercenary hoplite he would have been a highly prized and indispensable military unit. If Xenephon’s prize horse could fetch as much as 50 Darics, how much more valuable must the best front line warriors of the age have been.

Here is the excerpt

Xenephon, Anabasis VII/4.7-11

[7]There was a certain Episthenes of Olynthus who was a lover of boys, and upon seeing a handsome boy, just in the bloom of youth and carrying a light shield, on the point of being put to death, he ran up to Xenophon and besought him to come to the rescue of a handsome lad.
[8] So Xenophon went to Seuthes and begged him not to kill the boy, telling him of Episthenes' turn of mind, how he had once assembled a battalion with an eye to nothing else save the question whether a man was handsome, and that with this battalion he proved himself a brave man.

[9] And Seuthes asked: “Would you even be willing, Episthenes, to die for this boy's sake?” Then Episthenes stretched out his neck and said, “Strike, if the lad bids you and will be grateful.”

[10] Seuthes asked the boy whether he should strike Episthenes in his stead. The boy forbade it, and besought him not to slay either. Thereupon Episthenes threw his arms around the boy and said: “It is time, Seuthes, for you to fight it out with me for this boy; for I shall not give him up.”

And Seuthes laughed and let the matter go. He resolved, however, to establish a camp where they were, in order that the people on the mountain should not be supplied with food from these villages, either.

[11] So he himself went quietly down the mountain and encamped upon the plain, while Xenophon with his picked men took quarters in the uppermost village below the summit and the rest of the Greeks close by, among the so-called “mountain” Thracians.

[Sources Used: Xenophon. Xenophon in Seven Volumes, 3. Carleton L. Brownson. Harvard University Press, Cambridge, MA; William Heinemann, Ltd., London. 1922

The Good, the bad and the thoroughly disreputable: Xenephon's Anabasis Book II, Chapter 6.

The Good, the bad and the thoroughly disreputable: moral sketches of of Clearchus, Proxenus and Meno in Xenephons Anabasis 2.6

Eheu! We find a remarkable turn of events for the Greek mercenary force accompanying Cyrus the Younger in his attempt to overthrow his brother Atarxerxes and seize the throne. After assembling at Sardis and making their way through the citied plains and low hills of Phrygia (as described in Book 1) the combined Greek and barbarian mercenary force do battle at Cunaxa. It’s a very mixed result since although the Greek forces rout all before them, Cyrus is killed in battle following a rash attempt to personally kill Atarxerxes, rendering any victory hollow indeed.

The Greeks including our narrator Xenephon are now leaderless, without allies, surrounded by hostile forces in a strange and inhospitable land. During a truce meeting with the Persian forces set up by the perfidious Tissaphernes, the Greek generals are seized and later executed. Clearchus, the erstwhile leader of the expedition together with Proxenus and Meno are given short moralistic obituaries in chapter 6. It is interesting to look at how Xenephon holds them up to the glass of posterity and contrasts them with each other and by implication his previous account of the death of Cyrus. I looked at this chapter through the eyes of two translators, Edward Spelman (d.1767) and Robin Waterfield (2005) to see how they dealt with Xenephon’s Attic Greek – renowned for its lucidity and elegance. There is a similarity between the two translators in that they are both independent scholars and authors as opposed to institution attached academics. Spelman in particular seemed disdainful of the universty education of his day. But there the similarity ends, Spelman being a gentleman of leisure and of independent means due to his inherited seat and wealth, Waterfield a modern professional writer earning his living by his pen. Edward Gibbon the renowned historian thought Spelman’s translations to be the finest available in the English language at the time.

Here are the opening sentences of Book II Chapter 6, first Spelman and then Waterfield.

'The generals, being thus apprehended, were carried off to the king, by whose orders their heads were cut off. One of them, Clearchus, was allowed by all that knew him to have been a man both of a military genius, and one who delighted in war to the last degree; for, as long as the Lacedaemonians were at war with the Athenians, he continued in the service of his country; but after the peace he persuaded his fellow-citizens that the Thracians oppressed the Greeks; and having prevailed on the ephori, by some means or other, he set sail with a design to make war on the Thracians, who inhabit above the Chersonesus and Perinthus.'

(Edward Spelman Expedition of Cyrus p.107, 1742)

'The Greek generals who were captured as described were taken to the king and beheaded. One of them, Clearchus, was universally held by those who knew him to have been not just good at warfare, but absolutely devoted to it. For example, he stayed around while the Spartans were at war with the Athenians, but after the peace treaty he presuaded his fellow citizens that Greeks were suffering at Thracian hands, and once he had managed to get his way with the ephors, he set sail to make war on the Thracians who live beyond the Chersonese and Perinthus.'

(Robin Waterfield The Expedition of Cyrus p.50-51 Oxford World's Classics 2005)

They are pretty close for translations seperated by hundreds of years which is remarkable. Spelman seems to stick quite close to the grammar of the Greek, for example where Clearchus is described in Waterfields translation as 'not just good at warfare but absolutely devoted to it', Spelman keeps the greek kai +adj -kai + adj construction ( aner KAI polemikos KAI philopolemos..') using the expression 'both =noun phrase - and + noun phrase.  Spelmans translation shows how much emphasis was placed on acccuracy or faithfulness to the original Greek. The result is that it sounds as though the text has a starched collar but nevertheless runs quite well. It doesnt come across as a literal translation but one where the underlying greek has a higher visibility. Waterfield has put more work into readability for the modern reader but skillfully making few if any sacrifices to the original sense. Its the lexis, the choice and order of words that depart from the original.

This is further illustrated by Spelmans decision to stay close to the Greek in the following line ' he persuaded his fellow citizens that the Thracians oppressed (Greek : adikousi) the Greeks, where Waterfield has coverted the tense to a past imperfect to emphasize the ongoing oppression and thus a sense of urgency in his appeal to the ephors, ' he persuaded his fellow citizens that the Greeks were suffering at Thracian hands'. Its reads well to the modern eye but there is a resulting slight remove from the Greek original text.

Xenephon had earlier given us a panegyric of Cyrus and the recently killed barbarian would-be king is depicted in on the whole glowing terms. Perhaps then these Greek mercenraries are held up by way of contrast, all the more striking since for each of the Greek (ie non-barbarian) generals, their good points are matched by bad and in the case of Proxenus and Meno the weight is firmly on the bad side of the scales.

A generation ago it would surely have been unthinkable to cast babarians in such a positive and contrasting light, but with Xenephon’s work we are in a new era, that of the professional mercenary and one in which age old loyalties to ones polis and Greek land have undergone severe strain and rupture due the chaos of the Pelopponesian War (431-404 BCE)

Clearchus is an efficient general but a harsh one, feared rather than loved by his men. This will set up a strong contrast when Xenephon emerges later in the anabasis as leader of the 10,000. The moral elements of a good leader are implied by his description of how the generals fall short of the ideal or go against them completely. Proxenus seemed to be out for fame at any cost and as a paying student of the sophist Gorgias of Leontini, Xenephon as a follower and erstwhile protoge of Socrates, underlines this general as morally challenged in his choice of instructor. As a result he is a general 'incapable of inspiring respect or fear, and stood in greater awe of his men than they of him' (Spelman 110). Menon is beyond the pale, as a man after riches, stooping to perjury, falsehood and deceit to attain them. He seemed to regard affection as foolish and would only feign such friendship as would enable him to deceive another. Almost in the nature of a moral payoff Xenephon informs us that Menon was not beheaded like the others but tortured for a year and then after much agony killed as a common malefactor. Here again Spelman keeps close to the Greek (poneros Greek: person of low worth, evildoer). Waterfield extends the contrast with the other generals and glosses this word as ' a man with no redeeming features' which seems to imply that the Persians considered him of insufficient rank or status to merit a swift and honorable decapitation.

Such is the fate of the generals leading to the crisis that forms the real beginning of the march of the ten thousand.

The Gauntlet of Parmenides and atomic laughter in the dark

Parmenides' Gauntlet and Atomic Laughter in the Dark

In defiance of Heraclitus and his famous maxim, I have the distinct feeling that we have stepped in this neck of the river before...ah yes..one of the first blog posts I did way back in 2013 touched upon the Atomists in connection with the poetical masterpiece of the Roman poet Lucretius, the De Rerum Natura. However with Waterfield we get a lot more detail and discussion of the atomists, Leucippus and Democritus (sometimes referred to in some of the fragments as Democrates). It would take me a long time indeed to deal with the detail of the theory in full so I just wanted to make a few points for further discussion which we might touch upon when we meet next time. In particular, how reading the First Philosophers, specifically the previous chapters has enabled us to put the atomists into the wider context of the reaction to Ionian cosmogony, and also to see how Parmenides and his difficult hexameter work  threw down a gauntlet which the later thinkers needed to deal with in order to explain change or matter and its nature at the same time trying not to violate the changeless state approach that Parmenides elaborates in his religiously worded 'Way of Truth'. Remember too that Parmenides is basing his explanation from the realm of pure thought since it is a key claim of his work that the surface changes grasped by the unreliable senses are illusory and not to be trusted. Ultimately change is not possible. This is in distinct contrast with the quasi empirical approach of many of his predecessors.

We are in danger of straying from the core remit of Legendum here in that further discussion of the matters above tend more in the direction of pure ancient philosophy as opposed to literature per se. Its interesting, there is no doubt about that, but I note that we are dealing with Testimonia and Fragments here, often the work of other writers and therefore in the absence of any one writer or body of work we are necessarily reduced to discussing the philosophical concepts themselves. Its a potential distraction I've noticed which could almost lead to the genesis of another blog altogether - that of Ancient or even Pre-Socratic thinkers! One figure looms large in a lot of the testimonia, and that is Aristotle - of whom my knowledge is scanty to say the least. In essence its a caveat we should bear in mind in future when looking at overtly philosophical texts - how deep into the philosophy do we really need or want to go if we are to keep close to the  purpose of Legendum. Of course that is not to say that such works and authors have no place in our investigatory meanderings, and they all have their literary aspects, but nonetheless we should be on our guard not to get too deep into the philosophy, fascinating though it is!

That said I wanted to mention a few points in connection with the atomists. Why and how did they come up with the theory of atoms and void? Did they manage to satisfactorily deal with the Parmenidean challenge and keep inviolate the idea that we can not talk of things which exist, as well as Zeno's important paradox of infinite divisibility? What were the political implications of atomist theories? Did they lead as some scholars have mused to a new scepticism especially about traditional ideas about the formation of the cosmos, the gods and mortals' position and relevance in such a system? How important a feature was atomic theory in the works of Democritus...he was apparently quite a prolific author and although the works themselves are lost, we have via the Testimonia and Fragmenta, many tantalising titles covering a wide variety of fields of enquiry.

I look forward to wrestling with some of these problems with you next time!

Euge!