A Heroic Tale Curtailed
Homeric Digressions and Iliad 13
This is one of a few posts dedicated to Iliad 13. As a reminder, these posts will remain free, but there is an option to be a financial supporter. All proceeds from the substack are donated to classics adjacent non-profits on a monthly basis.
One of the things that is remarkable about Homeric poetry is the potential for any detail to open up to a new world of story. The Iliad doesn’t endow every named character with a backstory or fuller narrative, but it does meander at times and provide sketches of stories that give context and content to a larger world.
This feature of Homeric poetry is one of the primary characteristics discussed in literary theory outside of Homer, thanks in part to Erich Auerbach’s use of Odysseus’ scar in the Odyssey in his influential book Mimesis. For Auerbach, Homer’s paratactic style lends itself to the extreme digression of focusing on the story of how Odysseus got his scar at the moment Eurykleia sees it and demonstrates a commitment to the part to the detriment of the whole. This perspective imagines a poetic narrative not in control of itself, growing in whatever direction works at the time, like twisted branches searching for light. (see Egbert Bakker’s discussion and adjustment of this here.)
How or why Homer does this has been debated for some time. Prior to rather general acceptance of theories of oral composition and performance, the so-called ‘digressions’ in Homer were sometimes seen as a fault. Modern authors rarely make this claim any more. Instead, there are questions of what the digressions and narrative explorations indicate about the authorship of the poems (and probably too little concern about what they mean for audiences!). For instance, Maureen Alden has argued that the intricacy and interconnectedness of the “paranarratives” indicate a highly sophisticated author, interweaving stories over a process of many years. This argument has been attractive to those who want to struggle against Auerbach’s implicit criticism of Homeric poetry as in some way uncontrolled, unfinished, or imperfect. From this perspective, the problem is on the part of interpreters who are too ill-informed to understand Homeric genius.
Bakker, cited above, and others, provide a different way out: for Bakker, Homeric poetry is more like speech than something directly visualized, and the process of unfolding an experience. Norman Austin suggests that digressions come at moments where “the dramatic and psychological concentration is the most intense” (312). They amplify the emotion or the themes. Elizabeth Minchin suggests that many of these narratives are causal and shouldn’t be seen as digressive (especially in the case of the scar) and others are indeed thematic, but a shared attribute is how they reflect what we now know about how human memory works. For Minchin, and others, there is a cognitive aspect to Homeric narrative: its tendency to explore the part is not to the detriment of the whole but instead serves to support our understanding of the whole. Not only is this kind of paratactic and telescoping narrative more apt for the way human brains work, but it also helps audiences understand the forest through the exploration of the trees.
For me, Auerbach’s description fails to represent Homeric poetry accurately on a very fundamental level: the description of the scar is momentous, thematically critical, dramatic, and engaged with the plot and movement of the Odyssey. But approaches that assume that such complexity is due to the long term effort of a master storyteller also pay short shrift to the complexity available from a poem that develops in performance and in response to human audiences.
There are a few interesting digressions in book 13. One of them occurs during Idomeneus’ aristeia.
Iliad 13.361–369
“There, though his hair was partly grey, Idomeneus called
Out to the Danaans and drove the Trojans to retreat as he leapt.
For he killed Othryoneus who was there from Kabesos—
He had just arrived in search of the fame of war.
He asked for the most beautiful of Priam’s daughter’s
Kassandra, without a marriage-price, and he promised a great deed,
That he would drive the sons of the Achaians from Troy unwilling.
Old Priam promised this to him and nodded his head
That he would do this. Confident in these promises, he rushed forth.῎Ενθα μεσαιπόλιός περ ἐὼν Δαναοῖσι κελεύσας
᾿Ιδομενεὺς Τρώεσσι μετάλμενος ἐν φόβον ὦρσε.
πέφνε γὰρ ᾿Οθρυονῆα Καβησόθεν ἔνδον ἐόντα,
ὅς ῥα νέον πολέμοιο μετὰ κλέος εἰληλούθει,
ᾔτεε δὲ Πριάμοιο θυγατρῶν εἶδος ἀρίστην
Κασσάνδρην ἀνάεδνον, ὑπέσχετο δὲ μέγα ἔργον,
ἐκ Τροίης ἀέκοντας ἀπωσέμεν υἷας ᾿Αχαιῶν.
τῷ δ’ ὁ γέρων Πρίαμος ὑπό τ’ ἔσχετο καὶ κατένευσε
δωσέμεναι· ὃ δὲ μάρναθ’ ὑποσχεσίῃσι πιθήσας.
This passage is more than a little enigmatic. The narrative that unfolds tells the story of a hopeful suitor for Kassandra who is killed by Idomeneus. The details seem rather straightforward. Othryoneus has come to fight for the promise of marrying Kassandra. What separates this brief obituary from others are the details. Othryoneus is marked out for his recent arrival, his pursuit of glory, his promise of a “big deed” and his desire to wed Kassandra without a bride gift.
A scholion pays some attention to this last detail.
Schol. bT ad Il. 13 365-6 ex
“He was asking to marry the most beautiful of Priam’s daughters without a bridegift”
This is also foreign. For we can find no place in Greece where they go to war for pay and posit before that they will not be allies without a contract. Also, consider the payment. For he came, asking for the girl, not because she was royal, but because she was the most beautiful. Certainly the most intemperate suitors among the Greeks “strive because of [her] excellence” [Od 2.366] But “without bridegifts” [Il.13.366] is cheap: even the most unjust suitors offer bridegifts to Penelope.”
ex. ᾔτεε δὲ Πριάμοιο <θυγατρῶν εἶδος ἀρίστην / Κασσάνδρην ἀνάεδνον>: βαρβαρικὸν καὶ τοῦτο· οὐδέποτε γὰρ εὑρήσομεν παρ’ ῞Ελλησι τὸ ἐπὶ μισθῷ στρατεύειν καὶ πρότερον αἰτεῖν καὶ χωρὶς ὑποσχέσεως μὴ συμμαχεῖν. ὅρα δὲ καὶ τὸν μισθόν· κόρης γὰρ ἐρῶν ἧκεν, οὐχ ὅτι βασιλική, ἀλλ’ ὅτι εἶδος ἀρίστη. καίτοι παρ’ ῞Ελλησιν οἱ ἀκολαστότατοι μνηστῆρές φασιν „εἵνεκα τῆς ἀρετῆς ἐριδαίνομεν” (β 206). καὶ τὸ ἀνάεδνον (366) γλίσχρον, ὅπου γε οἱ ἀδικώτατοι μνηστῆρες ἕδνα τῇ Πηνελόπῃ προσφέρουσιν.
So the Scholiast marks Othryoneus’ proposal as odd, if not improper. If we could imagine some notional summary of Othryoneus’ character, he would be something like a Dolon, asking for far more than is proper. But, taken altogether, the brief narrative is not wholly different from the heroic setup in general. Did not all the Achaeans come to Troy in search of kleos and a girl?
In addition to this somewhat strained thematic resonance, the quick resolution of his story (by which, I mean his death) coupled with whose hands deliver it (Idomeneus, the third string QB trying to rally the Achaeans when everyone else is sidelined (Achilles) or wounded (Diomedes, Odysseus, Agamemnon, Menelaos…) renders Othryoneus’ death even more pathetic. At the same time, it amplifies Idomeneus. Note the strange detail about Idomeneus grey hair, implying advanced age. He seems to re-enter the field, late in the day at a time of great need, a Joe Flacco to the Achaean Browns.
(For those who don’t follow the NFL, Joe Flacco is a quarterback who has had an unlikely resurgence)
The cumulative effect in the middle of a book that rages back and forth with death and confusion is to further relativize war and the promise of glory. It seems foolish if not futile to fight at all.
For me, such resonance and connected meaning develops because of my familiarity with Homer and in response to a style of composition and performance that prioritizes repetitions and meaningful sequences. My interpretation is possible because of the Iliad tendency to layer scenes (the paratactic structure again) and return to motifs (thematic rings), but it is not guaranteed. One can hear the Iliad without getting that Othryoneus was important at all (adding to the pathos) or linger as I have and come to a greater understanding of the whole. But this greater understanding relies on an audience receptive to the methods of meaning-making.
To return to the question of digression: Homeric poetry builds itself out of repetitive structures that are formed in part through performance and audience reception/response. Such intricate meanings are unlikely the result of a master plan and more likely a collaboration in a dynamic context where composer and audience unfold the story together. This method reflects and capitalizes upon human memory and cognition.
Bonus: Stories Tapped by this telling
As I explore in an article about Kassandra in the Odyssey, some narrative details in a story like Othryoneus’ do seem to draw on other narrative traditions. There are traces of a larger story tradition that positions Kassandra as an attractive yet ultimately unattainable bride, an inverse Helen of sorts.
The travel author Pausanias has someone else coming to Troy to seek Kassandra’s hand.
Pausanias 10.27.1-2 (see Benarbe Il. Parvae 15)
“Koroibos came to seek a marriage with Kassandra, but he died. According to a greater tale, she was taken by Neoptolemus; but Lesches gave her to Diomedes.”
ἀφίκετο μὲν δὴ ἐπὶ τὸν Κασσάνδρας ὁ Κόροιβος γάμον, ἀπέθανε δέ, ὡς μὲν ὁ πλείων λόγος, ὑπὸ Νεοπτολέμου, Λέσχεως δὲ ὑπὸ Διομήδους ἐποίησεν.
Alcidamas, an orator, provides us with an imagined speech performed by Odysseus prosecuting Palamedes. In myth, it was Palamedes who revealed that Odysseus was just pretending to be crazy to avoid going to war. Odysseus held a grudge and framed Palamedes as a traitor when they arrived in Troy by planting gold and a letter in his dwelling.
Alcimadas, Rhetor fr. 16.72-7 (4th Century BCE)
“After calling Sthenelos and Diomedes to witness, I was showing them the contents. The letter clearly said these things:
“Alexandros [writes] to Palamedes. You will have all the things promised to Telephos and my father will give you Kasandra as a wife, just as you asked. But do those things you offered quickly.”
These were the things which were written, and when you approached me and witnessed it you took the bow.”
πράγματι, προσκαλεσάμενος Σθένελόν τε καὶ Διομήδη ἐδείκνυον αὐτοῖς τὰ ἐνόντα. ἡ δὲ γραφὴ ἐδήλου τάδε· ‘᾿Αλέξανδρος Παλαμήδει. ὅσα συνέθου Τηλέφῳ, πάντα σοι ἔσται, ὅ τε πατὴρ Κασάνδραν γυναῖκα δίδωσί σοι, καθάπερ ἐπέστειλας· ἀλλὰ τὰ ἀπὸ σοῦ πραττέσθω διὰ τάχους.’ ἐνεγέγραπτο μὲν ταῦτα· καί μοι προσελθόντες μαρτυρήσατε οἱ λαβόντες τὸ τόξευμα.
The Trojan War tradition has Kassandra awarded to Agamemnon after the sack of Troy and killed by Klytemnestra when they return home.
A short bibliography for this post.
Alden, Maureen 2000. Homer Beside Himself: Para-Narratives in the Iliad (Oxford 2000).
Austin, Norman. 1966. “The Function of Digressions in the Iliad”. Greek Roman and Byzantine Studies 7:295-312.
Bakker, Egbert J. 2005. Pointing at the Past: From Formula to Performance in Homeric Poetics. Hellenic Studies Series 12. Washington, DC: Center for Hellenic Studies.
J. P. Christensen. “Revising Athena’s Rage: Kassandra and the Homeric Appropriation of Nostos.” YAGE 3: 88–116.
Minchin, Elizabeth. “Voice and Voices: Homer and the Stewardship of Memory.” in Niall W. Slater, Voice and Voices in Antiquity. Orality and Literacy in the Ancient World, 11; Mnemosyne supplements. Monographs on Greek and Latin language and literature, 396. Leiden; Boston: Brill, 2017.