Appetitive: Watching Medea

As I mentioned in a previous blogpost, Cerinthus gave me the most wonderful gift in the world: the production of Μήδεια in the original Classical Greek. We watched it tonight and it was absolutely fantastic. I love hearing the Greek spoken and because Herodotus II and I read about half of the Μήδεια in the original, I recognized many more of the words and phrases which was really exciting. It has also motivated me to study even harder for my Greek exam in late September. I am really nervous, but I am looking forward to it.

Appetitive: The Most Amazing Birthday Gift

It's not my birthday, but my birthday is coming up. Cerinthus came down and gave me the worlds greatest birthday present: a copy of the 1988 production of the Medea in the original Greek (Peter Steadman, director. Commentary by William Arrowsmith). It's a DVD copy that I had to swear I would only use for educational purposes. I'm really excited. Cerninthus and I are going to watch it (I think tomorrow) with Servia and I will post a review when we watch it again.

If you can get a hold of a copy of this movie, I highly suggest watching it. It's absolutely fabulous.

Reasoning: Constructs of Ethnic Identity in the Ancient World

Instead of what I was supposed to be doing today (reading Medea), I spent a lovely cool spring day on the porch reading the Landmark Herodotus and the Iliad (which I do have to read in preparation for reading book 14 in Greek with Propertius II). Much of Herodotus, in my mind, is a combination of political science and a quest to understanding ethnic identity. The way that the Greeks defined themselves and others is a fascinating question int he ancient world and one i would like ot expore more thoroughly.

In the last few days, both AWOL and Egyptology News have recommended a new open-access journal and magazine called Egyptological. I decided to browse around and read an article on Ancient Egyptian perceptions of Ethnic identities that sounded intriguing. The article was a comparison between two different books on ethnic identity in ancient Egypt which each take a different anthropological view of the way that Egyptians perceived foreigners.

Reasoning/Spirited: Publishing and the Internet

I found this article on Twitter. I thought it was especially interesting for classicists/grad students. Apparently some publishers get really jumpy about publishing books from dissertations that appear online in digital form. Others seem to feel that this means that there is already a market for the product. I wonder whether publishers will end up moving digital information backward by forcing students not to share their work if they want to be considered publishable.

I read over 80 lines of Μήδεια today and I am exhausted (how will I ever survive grad school?) so I am not going to finish my addendum to the comments on "Μήδεια and Rhetoric" tonight. However, they should appear in a semi-coherent form in the next few days along with some addenda to "Μήδεια and the 'Royal We'," some thoughts on Isocrates, Parmenides, and a review of the most recent Marathon 2500 talk.

Spirited: More on Μήδεια

I have gotten really behind on pretty much everything I am trying to do right now. Trying to catch up, I have been reading a lot of Μήδεια so there will be a lot of focus on this play in my posts right now. I recently wrote a long post in comments on yesterday's blog about translating Jason's speech and I have an addendum that I will finish and post when I am more awake and coherent. There is a lot of fascinating word choice in the Μήδεια and I love people weighing in on the discussion. I am also planning on doing a post on the rhetoric of enemies in the Μήδεια. It makes me wish I had been able to fit an additional class into my schedule second semester so I could have taken the Μήδεια with my alma mater's wonderful ancient rhetoric and oratory professor. Days just need more hours in them...

Spirited: Μήδεια and Rhetoric

By next week, Herodotus II and I will be half way through Μήδεια. Last night both of us were remarking how different the Μήδεια looks when read very slowly in Greek. One of the things that we noticed, which I certainly did not notice reading it in English, is Jason's rhetorical skill. The verbal duel that rages between Medea and Jason from 364-625 demonstrates not only Medea's intense persuasive power, but Jason's ability to employ the rhetorical tools of the sophists (obviously anachronistic).

Jason begins his second speech by reinforcing the necessity of winning the verbal battle almost instead of being correct in his actions: "δεῖ μ', ὡς ἔοικε, μὴ κακὸν φῦναι λέγειν" (It is necessary that I, as it seems, to prove myself to speak not badly [1])" (Μήδεια 522). Later, he refers to his argument with Medea as an "ἅμιλλαν...λογῶν (contest of words)" (Μήδεια 546), the same phrase Gorgias uses to describe the rhetorical battles of the sophists on various topics. These meta-phrases and Jason's rhetorical strategy of numbering causes and disproving Μήδεια point-by-point (also a tactic that Gorgias uses to demonstrate the innocence of Helen), and most particularly his argument that it was not Medea that helped him, but rather Aphrodite, who compelled her to help (one of Gorgias's arguments), shows that Jason is not taking the content of the argument seriously. This would not seem so striking-- after all the Athenians certainly liked rhetoric-- except that Medea is passionately arguing for her own life and those of her children. Going into exile meant not only leaving her homeland but that they would effectively be wandering as beggars ("πτωχοὺς ἀλᾶσθαι παῖδας ἥ τ'ἔσωσά σε" line 517), vulnerable to thieves and murderers and with not guarantee of safe passage or a place to go. This makes Jason seem more horrible than he already does and it actually sounds worse in the Greek than I remember in English.

One thing that Herodotus II pointed out is that although Jason seems awful, the rhetorical skills he displays also make him seem intelligent. He is not doing this because he is stupid; he is doing it because he has no conscience. This is fascinating because Jason was one of the men of the heroic age who traveled on the Argo. From what I remember of my tragedy class, Medea acts like a Sophoclean hero (as described by Bernard Knox). The Sophoclean hero, as Knox describes him [2] is a relic of the heroic ages who still obeys by the old codes and cannot function in a rapidly modernizing world where the values of honor and oaths no longer hold the same power. This certainly seems to be true of Medea. The odd thing is that Jason, the Argonaut, demonstrates none of these heroic tenancies; he is thoroughly a "modern man" placing the value of conspicuousness [3] (ἐπίσημος) rather than everlasting κλέος (glory won in the traditional heroic fashion).

Endnotes

1. In this translation, I take the neuter adjective to be functioning as an adverb. It could also function (as Mastronarde suggests) as an alternative phrasing for δεινὸς λέγειν (skilled at speaking) (Mastronarde258).
2. I use the male pronoun even though Antigone also demonstrates the pattern of the Sophoclean hero. I remember this from reading Bernard Knox' article "The Ajax of Sophocles" (JSTOR) but I am sure it can also be found in The Heroic Temper.
3. This is "notableness" but in the sense of something being remarkable in a worldly way. The word's primary meaning is the mark that is stamped on coinage.(see LSJ entry).

Appetitive: Archaeologists on Strike?

I had no idea we lived in a world where archaeologists could go on strike. Apparently, this is actually something that can happen in Egypt. According to Egyptology News, in responses to a mass of looting, archaeologists might be striking in protest against the failure of the new government to appoint a minister to handle archaeological affairs. I think it's great that archaeologists have this power (although, obviously the looting is unfortunate).

More to come. I have a great old friend in town and I still have a lot of Medea to read...

Spirited: Μήδεια and the "Royal We"

In English, there is a phenomenon known as the "royal we" where a speaker used first person plural as a stand-in for first person singular. Generally, this phenomenon associates itself with arrogant and schizophrenic-type personalities. In Greek or Latin, poets often employ the first person plural so it is essentially the "poetic we" rather than the "royal we."

Herodotus II and I have recently doubled our number of lines per week in order for us to finish before summer vacation. Although this certainly requires more time, it also provides me with a greater sample size in which to notice patterns. One of the things that stood out to me as I read our most recent section was the use of the "poetic we." Μήδεια employs this tactic quite frequently, although she also uses the first person singular within 2-3 lines of her first person plural. I did not notice, although I might have missed it, Kreon using the poetic plural, nor any of the other characters (I am happy to be corrected if someone notices an instance). So, I wondered why Medea, specifically, might use this rhetorical device.

Euripides, as I remember reading in my Bacchae class freshman year, likes to use "halved" characters, i.e. two main characters who each represent one set opposing characteristics usually housed in a single person. Unlike his half characters, Medea seems to be a duel (or possibly more) character. She switches from courageous and fearsome at one moment, to helpless and despairing the next, to conniving and persuasive, sometimes within a single speech. Like Hekate (Μήδεια line 397), the goddess she worships, to whom each of the three main Gods (Zeus, Poseidon, and Hades) gave a small segment of their domain, she functions as a polymorphic character. Each of the characters around her serve a single function. Even the chorus of women acts essentially as a single entity; they represent a moderate buffer to the extreme arguments put forward by any side. But Medea demonstrates so many different personality traits and skills that she becomes awesome and terrifying.

Update 03/24/11: Jason also uses the "poetic we" at least once. I ran across this in line 451 where he refers to himself as κἀμοὶ which is a crasis of και + αμοι (from αμος, "our"). However, this is the first time it is mentioned by another character. Also, interestingly enough, Jason is being deceptive here and saying things he only half means in a typical Μήδεια style. I will have to investigate further.

Appetitive: The Aleppo Codex

I thought I would repost another one of the wonderful discoveries I have made on AWOL. I had never heard of the Aleppo Codex until this post. The codex is the oldest complete manuscript of the Hebrew Bible. It appears to have been written in 930 CE by a scribe named Salomon is beautiful Hebrew calligraphy. AWOL posted an incredible website that has a complete text of the Aleppo Codex along with a searchable interface and introductory notes. Absolutely fantastic.

More discussion of the Μήδεια coming tomorrow!

Reasoning: Doctoral Theses

My mother pointed me to a set of theses on AWOL, and specifically one called "Astronomy and Ancient Greek Cult" by Efronsyni Boutsikas. It looks excellent and I am going to download it on my kindle to read.

One of my best friends was in town for the last two weeks (the one with whom I am planning to learn Sanskrit) and I spent a lot of time catching up with her in between relapsing on my horrible cold that I've had all month and talking about classics rather than doing any work. I have been so distracted I even forgot to translate my Μήδεια for tomorrow! Anyway, nose should go back to the grindstone as I translate Greek and review my Latin so I can finally meet with Propertius II again.

Spirited: All the Greek Verbs

So it seems my resolutions are not going very well so far as I have done no Greek or Latin as of yet and did not begin my blogpost until now. I also spent much of the day reading a book not on my reading list: Jeff Sharlet's The Family. It's just been one of those days.

However, I have been flipping through a gift I received: Nino Marinone's All the Greek Verbs. I have spoken before of my unintentional reliance on Perseus for the sake of efficiency in translating Latin and especially Greek. Part of this is because I do not know irregular verb conjugations (and sometimes cannot identify regular or common verb conjugations) off the top of my head. All the Greek Verbs is a list of verb forms, which tell you the person, number, tense, voice, and mood of each verb, as well as the verb itself so that one can look up a translation. I think this will help to ween me off of my Perseus addiction, because I can use a book instead of the computer and constantly looking up the verbs in paper dictionary will help not only to ingrain the verb forms but also the meanings in my head. I will update this review when I try it out on the next section of the Μήδεια.

Happy New Year, everyone!

Does anyone know if there is a similar book for Latin?

Reasoning: Greek Oaths

I spent the last few days reading and spending a few hours on Mήδεια. In throughout the beginning, Μήδεια talks a lot about oaths and vows. In the section I was reading today, Μήδεια calls on Zeus (alternately rendered Ζῆνά) and Themis to see that her husband has broken his marriage vows.

 "κλύεθ' οἷα λέγει κἀπιβοᾶται / Θέμιν εὐκταίαω Ζῆνά θ', ὃς ὅρκων / θωητοῖς τμίασ νενόμισται; / οὐκ ἔστιν ὅπως ἔω τινι μικρῶι / δέσποινα χόλον καταπαυσει" (Mήδεια lines 169-172, spoken by the Nurse)

The Nurse (Τροφός), adding emphasis to the oath, asks the Chorus if they heard it. Mastronarde mentions that there was a legal nature to calling particularly on Zeus and Themis.

Although there is certainly a legal nature, law in Ancient Greece was tied directly with religion. Not only could people bring the charge of impiety or atheism (e.g. Socrates), but there were religious ceremonies tied into the legal proceedings themselves (see commentary on Aeschylus' Eumenides. There may even be enough material in Hugh Lloyd-Jones' translation). At the same time, Μήδεια is talking about a legal oath and a religious one, and the strength of this oath seems to be important. Unfortunately both the scholarship and my knowledge of the complexities of oaths and Greek religion is lacking. I have looked, but little is as in-depth or satisfying as it should be.

 

"ΖEUS ΣΩΘΗΡ ΤΡΙΤΟΣ and Some Triads in Aechylus' Oresteia"(JSTOR) is Peter Burian's amazing article about oaths-- or more libations-- in the Oresteia. I highly recommend the article. At banquets, so far as I can tell, three libations were poured: one for the Olympians, one for the cthonic gods (i.e. the old, earthier, and darker gods like Night and Persephone)[1], and the last to Zeus the Savior. There are a lot of interesting implications to this throughout the Oresteia. I almost wrote my thesis on the Zeus cult in the Oresteia, but too much of the scholarship was in German so I couldn't pull it off.

Endnotes

1. Cthonic gods comes from the Greek word χθών meaning earth. They are gods that have to do with the earth (or under the earth) such as Hades and Persephone, as well as the "older," primordial gods like Night. More on cthonic cults and gods at some other time.

Reasoning: Thoughts on the Medea

I have been reading the Μήδεια in Greek with a friend of mine who is in Turkey (skype is awesome). One of the things that we notice recently was that not only is there an ever-present sense of doom in the beginning of the text, but it is clear from the rhetoric that the Τροφός (Nurse) and the Παιδαγωγός (Tutor) use that they know from the beginning (or at least fear) that Μήδεια will kill her children in an act of vengeance in a way that does not seem as imminent in the English.

Two questions emanate from this: 1) do we (as the audience) ignore the rhetoric because we know the ending, but notice it reading the Greek because we focus on it word by word (and therefore the Greek audience would not have noticed this aspect) or 2) if Euripides' version was the original version of the myth in which Μήδεια killed her children, what would the audience have been thinking during this opening scene?

Just food for thought.

Reasoning: The Iconography of Greek Theater #9, Oliver Taplin

Oliver Taplin was a fascinating character. He looked very much like a typical British professor, but in precisely the opposite fashion to Alan Shapiro. While Alan looked like the prim British professor, Oliver was not disheveled, but certainly looked like he had taken more care of his work than himself. However, his appearance only added to the genuine British charm that he had. He had a wonderful exuberance that was contagious and filled the whole room.

He is a professor emeritus at Magdalen College, University of Oxford and he has written a plethora of incredible books and articles, including The Stagecraft of Aeschylus which I read about half of for my class on the Agamemnon and was fortunate enough to receive as a birthday gift this year. Two books he edited which I would love to read are The Pronomos Vase and its Context and Pots & Plays: Interactions between Tragedy and Greek Vase-painting of the Fourth Century B.C..

Taplin opened his talk by explaining that he would be considering three questions.

1. What was the importance of traveling players in Ancient Greece?
2. How did those traveling players influence art?
3. Did traveling players manage to reach a non-Greek audience [1]?

Taplin started with the first question. He explained that scholarship has, for centuries, analyzed the unique Athenianness of theater. According to Taplin, this ignores a portion of the extant evidence that we have for theater. According to Taplin, the earliest evidence that we have for re-performance of plays comes from Herodotus, who explained that one of the penalties on Phrynikos for his play The Sack of Miletus [2] was that it was banned from re-performance.

Beside this, Aeschylus spent time a Heiron's court in Syracuse, both before he wrote the Oresteia [3] and during the end of his life (in fact, he died there [4]). Hieron, the tyrant of Syracuse at the time, commissioned a play at the founding of Aetna, The Women of Aetna [5]. Euripides died in Macedonia and may have written the Bacchae there [6].

Furthermore, vases containing theatrical imagery have been found in burials at Phanagoria, Cyrene, Korinth, Olbia, and Ruvo. In the non-Greek areas, scholars often dismiss the pots and assume that people just liked the pictures. Taplin, and especially Carpenter, seek to challenge this assumption.

According to Taplin, between Hieron and Alexander the Great, there was an increase in the theater outside of the festival of Dionysus at Athens. First, there were rural Dionysias in the outer demes [7]. These were serious cult events in the 5th century. In Republic 475d, Socrates disparages those theater-goers who do not miss any Dionysian in the cities or villages. Demosthenes, according to Taplin, also criticizes Aischenes for going to the lesser theater competitions. Furthermore, actors came from all over the Mediterranean, not just from Athens. Taplin cites Aristedemus from Metapontion as an example [8]. By 440, there were at least five regular theatrical festivals, and there is some evidence for 14 all together, although many of these were not held in traditional stone theaters.

Furthermore, Plato provides evidence of dramatic competition in outside of Athens. In Laws 659b-c, Plato disparages the demos-centric way that the judges decide competitions in Italy and Sicily (i.e. judges were swayed by public opinion). This provides evidence that there was some kind of theatrical competition that took place in these areas. Taplin argues that the actors in these competitions were probably from traveling troupes, and that these performers would respond to invitations to various festivals. He hypothesizes that there would be three actors, with a possible fourth actors playing the chorus. In the third century, according to Taplin, choruses would travel with the bands, but probably not before that. He notes, in reference to Kowalzig, that the Dithyramb was part of Hellenic culture, and it makes sense that choruses of all types would be part of civic coherence not just in Athens, but also Magna Graeca.

Taplin claims that the vases from Syracuse, Lukania, and other places in the Greek world serve as material evidence of traveling troupes [9]. Tombs in around Magna Graeca contain vases with theatrical imagery that appear to be made outside of Athens.

At the end, Taplin addressed Carpenter's case for Greek plays in the Italic areas of Apulia. Taplin agreed with Carpenter, saying that 10% of the dramatically related vases in Italy come from Ruvo. However, Taplin believed that the Pronomos Vase must have been bought on the secondhand market and brought back to Ruvo, possibly by someone who got to see the theatrical competition in Athens and bought it as a keepsake.

Endnotes

1. This is the same subject, on a larger scale, as Carpenter's talk. Near the end, Taplin directly responded to Carpenter, and he agreed with everything except Carpenter's discussion of the Pronomos Vase.
2. See this in Herodotus' Histories section 6.21. However, I think it's important to note that there is no indication in this that the plays would be re-performed outside of Athens, but also no indication that they would only be reprised in Athens. For context, Phrynikos' play, the Sack of Miletus (not extant), was the last play that depicted an real, current, tragic event (with the possible exception of the Persians because I am not sure of the comparative dates and also because the Persians was slightly different in tone and perspective). It was a play about the devastating Sack of Miletus and, according to Herodotus, the entire audience burst into tears. For causing such a disturbance, Phryikos was fined and the play was banned from ever being performed again.
3. There are some fascinating similarities in the description of fire/gold in Pindar's Olympian I and the opening speech of the Agamemnon, but I will save this discussion for another time.
4. The story of Aeschylus' death has functioned somewhat as an urban myth and has even invaded modern popular culture. I have heard two versions of the story. Both are premised on Aeschylus being bald. The first version says that as Aeschylus was walking along the beach in Sicily, an eagle mistook his bald head for a tortoise and dropped a rock on it to break it open. The second version, which I believe is at some point retold by Dr. Donald "Ducky" Mallard on NCIS, is that an eagle, carrying a turtle, mistakes Aeschylus' head for a rock and drops the turtle on it to crack open the shell. Whether he died in one of these ways or not, it makes for a great story.
5. All that remains is a fragment.
6. There is a wonderful moment about this in Nietzsche's Birth of Tragedy, but I cannot seem to find it. If anyone knows where it is, comment or email me.
7. A deme is much like a village that is part of the polis.
8. I am not sure about the spelling on either of these names.
9. A vase depicting the Medea shows the version of the story in which Medea slaughters her children. According to Taplin (citing Mastronarde), this was not a version of the myth in popular culture until Euripides' version.