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Epic Strategies
Identifying Epic Concerns
Desire
Character
Settings Characters act in specific circumstances. What they do relates to particular times, places, circumstances. Attention to the natural world builds resources for human engagements. Attention to differences in culture defines allies and enemies. Notable Greeks inhabit a natural world, sensing and acting as animals. Like the centaur who tutors Achilles, heroes see themselves as fellow inhabitants of natural environments. Culture grows out of nature. Characters identify with peers, those sharing a quest for fame, those recognizing a hierarchy in which proud heroes are few, and life generally is short. Fellow fighters in the forefront of battle compete, but share common bonds. Characters recognize personal bonds to particular gods or goddesses, and hope to be favored by those sympathetic in temperament and in position.
Gods, Goddesses & Fate Zeus appears (usually) as the most powerful of Greek divinities, but he is far from omnipotent. Polytheistic deities preside over varied and competing activities. Zeus presides above (lightning manifests his powers). Poseidon rules at sea (tidal waves and volcanic eruptions manifest his powers). Hades governs among shades in the underworld (Sleep anticipates his powers). Hera organizes allegiances, Athena encourages ingenuity, Aphrodite incites passion. Lesser powers inhabit and govern local settings. Thetis inhabits local seas, Scamander inhabits his river. No actions worth attention and mention are without costs. Thetis and Andromache come to appreciate that Ares spares not the brave man, but the coward. No credible characters have all desirable characters, and no credible characters can avoid limitations. Heroes manifest not perfect character but a web of traits credible as related components of an actual individual. In the heat of battle, passion more often than reason fuels action. Notable characters eventually discover Fate, the governor of significant actions. Without reason or purpose, Fate arises as the power which determines death, manifested at the end, but incorporating prior events. In the beginning chaos ruled. Order (including that associated with divinities) arises, but no one governs all, and none will last. Eventually chaos rules.
Navigating Events Since desires are often competitive, beginning with hunting for food, leading to competitive pursuits of suitable mates, often ending in early death, few courses of action (if any) succeed without substantial costs. Incidents in the Iliad do not progress predictably: all roads are crooked. Survivors shift course according to changing circumstances Since gods and goddesses abound, even the most powerful of the gods, Zeus, hardly controls his fellow deities. Moreover, Fate finally intervenes in many crucial moments, and Greek divinities are powerless against Fate. Homer's Iliad engages listeners in the unfolding of consequences from a simple event: the judgment of Paris, a prince of Troy. Greek audiences would know the story, Homer’s recitations would immerse listeners in the conditions in which stories actually develop, rather than illustrate pre-existing values. Here is the legend: Bernard Knox recounts the story in his introduction to Robert Fagle’s introduction. Bullfinch offers a more detailed summary. He begins with the judgment of Paris:
Minerva was the goddess of wisdom, but on one occasion she did a very foolish thing; she entered into competition with Juno and Venus for the prize of beauty. It happened thus: At the nuptials of Peleus and Thetis all the gods were invited with the exception of Eris, or Discord. Enraged at her exclusion, the goddess threw a golden apple among the guests, with the inscription, “For the fairest.” Thereupon Juno, Venus, and Minerva each claimed the apple. Jupiter, not willing to decide in so delicate a matter, sent the goddesses to Mount Ida, where the beautiful shepherd Paris was tending his flocks, and to him was committed the decision. The goddesses accordingly appeared before him. Juno promised him power and riches, Minerva glory and renown in war, and Venus the fairest of women for his wife, each attempting to bias his decision in her own favour. Paris decided in favour of Venus and gave her the golden apple, thus making the two other goddesses his enemies. Under the protection of Venus, Paris sailed to Greece, and was hospitably received by Menelaus, king of Sparta. Now Helen, the wife of Menelaus, was the very woman whom Venus had destined for Paris, the fairest of her sex. She had been sought as a bride by numerous suitors, and before her decision was made known, they all, at the suggestion of Ulysses, one of their number, took an oath that they would defend her from all injury and avenge her cause if necessary. She chose Menelaus, and was living with him happily when Paris became their guest. Paris, aided by Venus, persuaded her to elope with him, and carried her to Troy, whence arose the famous Trojan war, the theme of the greatest poems of antiquity, those of Homer and Virgil.
Engagement in the Iliad depends on participation in the conditions in which thought, feeling, desire and action move. We know that Aphrodite, the goddess of passion, will arouse in Helen uncontrollable desire, and that Paris will also develop an uncontrollable passion for Helen. But Aphrodite has materials with which to work. What makes these two, Helen and Paris, so suited to passion? How might Helen contrast the appeals of Menelaus and of Paris? Does Sparta differ from Troy? When Agamemnon and Achilles later clash, the argument depends as well on contrasting personalities and functions, not just on good or bad judgment. When Paris and Menelaus confront each other in Book 3 we can feel and understand the very different characters of this Greek and Trojan.
When
Helen anticipates their encounter, we can feel through her recollections,
her initial desire for her husband, her later passion for the impressive
visitor Paris, and her current homesickness.
When Achilles and Agamemnon argue, we can follow the competing claims of a commander and of the greatest of fighters: the commander will not accept insubordination; the fighter feels his actions determine victory, so he should be preeminent.
By the beginning of the Iliad the war has stretched out for nine years. How have actions proceeded? Consider the meeting, man to man, between Paris and Menelaus in Book 3. It is to decide the fate of each, the future of Helen, and the outcome of the war. But when Menelaus gains his advantage, Paris eludes him. Indeed, the climax of the War is to be the confrontation of the Greek Achilles and the Trojan Hector. We know that Achilles will kill Hector. But the triumph of Achilles does not satisfy Achilles, initially so focused on preeminence, and it does not end the war. Consider the truce in Book 4. Pandarus is tricked by Athena into winging his arrow towards his aggrieved enemy. As the disguised Athena claims, a fatal wound would end Greek involvement. Listeners know, of course, that Pandarus is tricked, that Pandarus will fail. But the empathic and shrewd attention to how Pandarus performs is far more inviting than the simple fact of trickery. Pandarus will not achieve his aim, but his extraordinary skills as an archer deserve and gain respect.
Telling Stories Pandarus aims to end the war, to save himself, his family and his city, to earn fame, a place in the stories to come fails. But Greek listeners appear far more interested in the credibility of the archer, his temperament, experience, technique, than in trickery that make all such concern moot. Greeks engaged in story-telling emphasize the struggle, not simply the difference between success and failure. How characters act is the guide for respect. Incidents in Homer seldom proceed as expected. Listeners (and readers) as well as Greek and Trojan participants can anticipate surprises, can appreciate the variations and limitations real mortals enjoy and endure. We may come to admire people who know the price of actions.
What
enables you to soldier on, listening still  |
