Published online by Cambridge University Press: 11 February 2009
The omen of the door and the eagle at Iliad 24.314–21 appears to have sparked scant scholarly interest, but deserves careful attention. The omen itself forms part of an analogy, for the eagle is likened in the size of its wingspan to a large, barred door. This simile might seem unremarkable, merely a convenient means of depicting great size, a casual juxtaposition of two ordinary nouns. The omen, on the whole, might be dismissed as nothing more than a conventional expression of divine favor. But closer scrutiny will reveal that there is, in fact, nothing arbitrary or haphazard in the selection of the terms of the analogy. Appreciation of the elegance and subtlety of the simile in turn reveals the full import of the omen.
1 Translations of the Iliad are from Lattimore, R., The Iliad (Chicago, 1951)Google Scholar. I have taken the liberty of making a few very minor changes.
2 For a discussion with further bibliography, see Schnapp-Gourbeillon, A., Lions, héros masques: les représentations de l'animal chez Homère (Paris, 1981), pp. 185—90Google Scholar. See also Bushnell, R. W., ‘Reading “Winged Words”: Homeric Bird Signs, Similes, and Epiphanes’, Helios 9 (1982), 1–13Google Scholar and Scott, W. C., ‘The Oral Nature of the Homeric Simile’, Mnemosyne Suppl. 28 (Leiden, 1974), pp. 77–9Google Scholar.
3 Griffin, J., Homer on Life and Death (Oxford, 1980), pp. 1–24Google Scholar.
4 Coffey, M., ‘The Homeric Simile’, AJP 78 (1957), 117Google Scholar. Coffey is following the view of Fränkel, H., Die homerischen Gleichnisse (Göttingen, 1921Google Scholar, reprinted 1977). Austin, N. explains the simile as ‘a composite picture, an assimilation of one unified structure into another’ (Archery at the Dark of the Moon [Berkeley, 1975], p. 115)Google Scholar. Snell, B. notes that Homer's similes ‘constitute his only mechanism of describing the essence or the intensity of an event’ (The Discovery of the Mind: The Greek Origins of European Thought, translated by Rosenmeyer, T. G. [Cambridge, 1953], pp. 199–200)Google Scholar.
5 Bushnell, R. W., Helios 9 (1982), 8–10Google Scholar.
6 Austin, N., op. cit., p. 118Google Scholar.
7 Muellner, L., ‘The Simile of the Cranes and Pygmies: A Study of Homeric Metaphor’, HSCP 93 (1990), 98–9Google Scholar.
8 Muellner, L., HSCP 93 (1990), 66Google Scholar.
9 Austin, N., op. cit., p. 129Google Scholar.
10 In Homer, the conventional code for interpreting bird signs is that the bird's appearance on the right signifies success for the enterprise about to be undertaken, while appearance on the left signifies failure (Bushnell, R. W., Helios 9 [1982], 2Google Scholar).
11 For a distinction between these two types of omens, that is, between ‘signe’ and ‘présage’, see Schnapp-Gourbeillon, A., op. cit., p. 179Google Scholar.
12 I am following M. S. Silk in his understanding of the distinction introduced by I. A. Richards. Silk explains ‘tenor’ as the underlying idea in a poetic image and ‘vehicle’ as ‘the other idea, the one brought in from outside, the one to which the tenor is, in logical terms, compared’ (Interaction in Poetic Imagery: With Special Reference to Early Greek Poetry [London, 1974], p. 6Google Scholar). L. Muellner, examining the relationship between tenor and vehicle in Homer, cites the conclusion of H. Fränkel: ‘nur Einmalig-Geschichtliches bleibt dem Gleichnissen fern’ (Muellner, , HSCP 93 [1990], 72–3Google Scholar). Muellner explains that ‘in contrast to the events that the heroes take part in, which are “einmalig-geschichlich,” the similes portray only recurrent events.’ Muellner observes that ‘the conventional relationship between tenor and vehicle in epic is like that between the generation of men and the generation of leaves: individual men die, but trees never cease losing their leaves in season. Yet on another level, while the events in the epic are, for the heroes, one-time, unrepeatable events that lead to inevitable death, for us, they are κλος ἄφθιτον, because, like an event in a simile, they are performed again and again’ (Muellner, , HSCP 93 [1990], 96Google Scholar).
13 Scott, W. C., Mnemosyne Suppl. 28 [Leiden, 1974], pp. 77–9Google Scholar.
14 G. Nagy discusses the call of the crane in Hesiod, , Works and Days 450–1Google Scholar and its significance as a σμα (‘Sěma and Noěsis: Some Illustrations’, Arethusa 16 [1983], 44–5 and n. 27)Google Scholar.
15 N. Austin argues that the Homeric simile ‘attempts to make visible the human order by finding a correspondence between it and the order of nature.’ He observes that ‘Vergil's simile comparing the uncontrolled winds to a frenzied human mob (Aen. 1.148–54) sharply emphasizes the change in perspective between Homer and his successors. In the perspective of the Homeric simile the human world receives its pattern from that already established in the natural world.’ Austin contrasts Homeric similes with modern poetry, which works in the opposite way, tending to endow natural phenomena with human qualities (Austin, , op. cit., pp. 116–18Google Scholar).
16 Elsewhere in Homer, human actions do, at times, figure not natural phenomena but other human actions. Often, warlike activity is brought into relation with domestic activities of times of peace. See, for example, Iliad 12.421–6 and 16.212–14.
17 Moulton, C., Similes in the Homeric Poems, Hypomnemata 49 (Göttingen, 1977), pp. 135–9Google Scholar. Moulton argues that in the Odyssey this is true of bird imagery in general. See also the corroborating arguments of Losada, L. A., ‘Odyssey 21.411: The Swallow's Call’, CP 80 (1985), 33–4Google Scholar and Borthwick, E. K., ‘Odysseus and the Return of the Swallow’, G&R 35 (1988), 14–22Google Scholar N. Austin notes the association of swallows with the annual return of spring. He identifies the swallow's song of Odysseus’ bow as the first sign of spring and a favorable omen for the coming year (Austin, , op. cit., pp. 247–50Google Scholar).
18 For a discussion of Hector's misreading of bird signs, see Bushnell, R. W., Helios 9 (1982), 5–13Google Scholar.
19 One may contrast the omen Athena sends as a favorable sign to Odysseus and Diomedes as they are about to set out on their night raid. Athena sends a heron (Il. 10.274–5). Here no barrier-crossing is at issue: the Greeks hold their conclave after crossing their own ditch. But this detail risks seeming somewhat contrived. Diomedes and Odysseus are selected and they arm themselves outside of the Greek fortifications. Both need to borrow equipment, having left their own beside their ships. Surely it would be more logical to make the selection within the camp where each warrior would have his own weapons handy. Odysseus and Diomedes would then need to cross the ditch before setting out on their expedition. It is tempting to conclude that placement of the conclave outside of the Greek fortifications is a simple, if logically questionable, means of precluding the need for an eagle of omen presaging a favorable crossing of a boundary. For the eagle is not Athena's sacred bird. It is Zeus’ (see, for example, Il. 24.292–3). It is the creature Zeus uses when he wishes to communicate with human beings, reserving Iris and Hermes for messages to the gods (Pollack, J., Birds in Greek Life and Myth [Plymouth, 1977], pp. 141–3Google Scholar). Iris can also bring messages to men. In this capacity she is sent to Achilles not by Zeus but by Hera (Il. 18.166). When Zeus wishes to restore Hector's strength and courage after he has been hit in the chest with a boulder, he sends as his messenger Apollo in the guise of a hawk (Il. 15.236–41). Here, too, no boundary crossing is at issue. But in Iliad 10, Zeus is favoring the Trojans (for Thetis' sake). Admittedly, the absence of an eagle of omen in Iliad 10 does not prove that the eagle alone can presage a barrier crossing. Nevertheles, the eagles of omen that do appear in this poem all consistently presage the success or failure of the crossing of a barrier.
20 Lynn-George, M., Epos: Word, Narrative and the Iliad (Basingstoke and London, 1988), p. 235CrossRefGoogle Scholar. Lynn-George also maintains that the eagle signifies separation from the city and that the two together underline the ‘fluctuations between assurance and uncertainty, security and exposure, trust and threat’ which recur repeatedly in Priam's journey. But he also argues that, in the simile at 24.480–2, Achilles is, by implication, ‘the man of wealth/substance’ (p. 239). The latter point would tend to support my contention that the locked door of a wealthy man at 24.317–18 represents Achilles' door more than Priam's. But, in fact, we have no real dispute. Both the door in its positive, protective aspect and in its negative, divisive aspect may well be at issue here.
21 Nagy, G., The Best of the Achaeans: Concepts of the Hero in Archaic Greek Poetry (Baltimore, 1979), pp. 146–7Google Scholar.
22 And, once, a goddess: Aphrodite, protecting Aeneas, uses her ππλος to create a ἕρκος against arrows (Il. 5.316).
23 The description of the fight is deliberately repetitive: Hector hurls his spear but is unable to penetrate Aias' shield; Aias hurls his spear all the way through Hector's shield (7.244–54). Hector then stabs at Aias' shield but fails to penetrate it; Aias succeeds in stabbing through Hector's shield (7.257–62). Hector then throws a stone but is unable to break Aias’ shield; Aias throws a stone and shatters Hector's shield (7.264–72).
24 This is the case in civilized societies. It is worth noting that the cave of Polyphemus, in Odyssey 9, although it has an αὐλ (184, 239, 338,462), θραι (243, 417) and even a θυρες (240, 340), has no ἕρκος.
25 In much the same way, Patroclus' death in Iliad 16 may be seen as a depiction of Achilles' death, which is never literally shown. See Janko, R., The Iliad: A Commentary, Volume IV: Books 13–16 (Cambridge, 1992), pp. 408–17Google Scholar.
26 Scully, S., Homer and the Sacred City (Ithaca, 1990), pp. 44–5Google Scholar. And see also Lynn-George, M., op. cit., p. 260Google Scholar. The eventual destruction of Troy is further emphasized by the fact that the foremost attackers, lead by Sarpedon and Glaukos, are the Λκιοι (12.290–330). In the Homeric epics and elsewhere in archaic Greek poetry, the Λκος invariably symbolizes qualities antithetical to civilization. For a discussion of the symbolic range of Λκος, and for further bibliography, see Nagy, G., Greek Mythology and Poetics (Ithaca, 1990Google Scholar, reprinted 1992, with corrections), p. 272, n. 13. See also Anhalt, E. K., Solon the Singer: Politics and Poetics (Lanham, MD, 1993), pp. 128–48Google Scholar.
27 S. Scully explains that although the purpose of the Achaeans is to fight at the city wall, only Patroclus ever scales it. No one else even touches it. And the Trojans never fight from it either. This ‘enhances the wall's symbolic value, encouraging us to read the circuit wall, untouched by war, as the boundary between war and peace, between the wild (nature) and culture, between the life-taking and the life-sustaining…Although the wall of Troy may be secure within the frame of the Iliad, we are equally aware from the stories of other walled cities that have fallen, from the failure of the Achaean wall to withstand Trojan aggression, and from the many prefigurations of Troy's own fall, that this boundary between civilization and its annihilation is a fragile one’ (Scully, , op. cit., pp. 44–5Google Scholar). And see also Arthur, M. B., ‘The Divided World of Iliad VI’. In Reflections of Women in Antiquity, Foley, H. P. (ed.) (New York, 1981), pp. 19–44Google Scholar. Arthur understands the Scaean gates as marking the separation between the city and the battlefield. She argues that in the meeting of Andromache and Hector in Iliad 6, the opposition between the feminine and masculine worlds figures the opposition between the city and the battlefield. Arthur maintains that Iliad 6 both emphasizes the opposition between the two spheres and explores the interaction between them, ultimately affirming the continuity of the two realms.
28 Scully, discussing the importance of the city wall in the Iliad, notes that ‘all dramatic scenes that concern the welfare of Troy are staged either upon the wall or at the city gates, not within the city at Priam's palace or Athena's temple’ (Scully, , op. cit., p. 42Google Scholar) and that ‘the city wall at the Skaian Gate, more than palace or city temple, is the single most prominent feature of Homeric Troy’ (Scully, , op. cit., p. 44Google Scholar).
29 At the temple of Athena in Troy, the door of the sacred chamber containing Athena's robe must be opened with a (6.89). And the door to Hera's chamber on Olympus is shut with a (14.168). There is no mention of the in regard to Priam's θραι or the Skaian πλαι, the πλαι of Hades or those of Olympus.
30 The Odyssey, by contrast, contains many more domestic scenes and, therefore, more descriptions of doors. Most of these descriptions contain a or the verb . Although the can occur in the sense of ‘key’ in the context of the opening of a door (for example, Od. 21.6 and 47), for the most part, the noun in the Odyssey underscores shutting a door or keeping it shut (Od. 1.442 and 21.241, for example). This can be expressed by the noun and verb together (Od. 21.241) or by the verb alone (Od. 21.236, 382, 387; 19.30).
31 For the importance of burial in the Homeric epics, see Griffin, J., op. cit., pp. 46–7Google Scholar.
32 Teucer, as it happens, is currently enjoying the protection of Aias' shield (8.266–72). This further emphasizes Aias' ability to function as a protective barrier for his comrades. [I am indebted to an anonymous reader at The Classical Quarterly for this observation.]
33 Hector's attitude in this contrasts sharply with Achilles' frank acknowledgement of his own imminent death and his lack of concern for a tangible physical memorial. In Iliad 18, upon learning that his own death is fated to come soon after Hector's, Achilles reiterates his determination to kill Hector in revenge for Hector's slaughter of Patroclus (18.114–21). Nowhere does Achilles evince concern for his own burial or acknowledge the connection between the σμα and eternal κλος. SO unsympathetic to this issue is he that, when he is about to fight Hector, he rejects the latter's suggestion that they swear an oath that the victor will return the body of the vanquished to his own people (22.254–72). And he refuses Hector's dying wish that he return his body to his own people for burial (22.338–54).
34 Bushnell, R. W. argues that ‘in the intersection of these passages, Hector himself becomes a bird sign, the omen of his own death’ (Helios 9 [1982], 8)Google Scholar. The simile in Iliad 22 also occurs at Odyssey 24.538 to describe Odysseus' final confrontation with the suitors (Bushnell, , Helios 9 [1982], 13, n. 19Google Scholar). In the Iliad, only Menelaus and Achilles are also compared to an αἰετς: the former for his vision (17.674), the latter for his speed (21.252) (Bushnell, , Helios 9 [1982], 13, n. 18Google Scholar).
35 For a discussion with further bibliography, see Nagy, G., Arethusa 16 (1983), 35–55Google Scholar. Nagy argues that ‘the σμα is not just the “sign” of death, it is also the potential “sign” of life after death,’ and that, in a sense, ‘the entire Iliad is a σμα reinforcing the will of Zeus’ (50). See also Nagy, , op. cit., pp. 174–210Google Scholar. M. Lynn-George maintains that the epic itself, in conferring κλος ‘tells the story of the σμα, a tale of the tomb-monument, affirming death and survival at the same time. Within the Iliad, the contemplation of the sign of survival is also combined with a consideration of the possibility of the survival of the sign. The Iliad constructs a sign of survival and annihilation, the σμα, in the awareness of the possibility of the annihilation of all surviving signs’ (Lynn-George, , op. cit., p. 257Google Scholar). Furthermore, the significance of the σμα ‘includes the sense in which it functions within the text as a sign for the text, both conceived as monuments conferring κλος’ (Lynn-George, , op. cit., p. 266Google Scholar).
36 G. Nagy contends that ‘the testimony of Greek poetry about σμα and νησις turns out to be a lesson in how to read this poetry: the Greek poem is a σμα that requires the νησις of those who hear it’ (Arethusa 16 [1983], 51Google Scholar).
37 For the ancient association between words and the flight of winged creatures, see Onians, R. B., The Origins of European Thought About the Body, the Mind, the Soul, the World, Time, and Fate (Cambridge, 1951), p. 67, n. 4, and pp. 469–70Google Scholar.
38 M. Mueller views the final book of the poem as ‘an aesthetic resolution,’ pointing out that the fighting will continue and ‘Troy will fall. The Iliad remains’ (Mueller, , The Iliad [London, 1984], p. 75)Google Scholar. The particular aptness of bird imagery to depict poetry is keenly recognized by Pindar who sees in the ability of birds to fly an excellent image for the ability of song to travel on into the future (Steiner, D., The Crown of Song: Metaphor in Pindar [London and New York, 1986], pp. 105–9Google Scholar).