Thinking comparatively about Greek mythology VIII, Some rough patches along the way toward a prototyping of Hēraklēs
2019.09.13 | By Gregory Nagy
Previously, at TC VII §7, I observed that the leveling-out and the smoothing-over of differences in the various different roles of Hēraklēs in various different tellings of ancient myths about this hero could lead not only to a sense of uniqueness but even to a kind of certainty about absolute uniqueness. And this kind of certainty, I went on to observe, could in turn lead to a prototyping of this hero as an absolute model. But now we will see that there were some rough patches along the way toward such a leveling-out and smoothing-over in the process of modeling Hēraklēs as a hero. For an example, I will concentrate here on the role of Hēraklēs as a warrior in the service of a king.
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Thinking comparatively about Greek mythology VII, Greek mythological models for prototyping Hēraklēs
2019.09.06 | By Gregory Nagy
§0. While analyzing the myths about the Labors and sub-Labors of Hēraklēs in essays TC I–VI, I have up to now focused on those heroic feats where our Strong Man has clearly been acting alone. Here in TC VII, I will analyze two myths where the feats of Hēraklēs seem to be different. In the first myth, as we will see, the hero is acting together with a large group, as their leader. In the second myth as well, the hero is figured as a leader—even if he seems at first to be acting quite alone. For analyzing both myths, I will apply in this essay an explanatory model that I will define as prototyping. And, for illustrating what I mean, I have chosen an image that I think is most relevant. We see here a picturing of the Strong Man as the leader of a large grouping of people. But the leader is in this case not Hēraklēs, the quintessential Strong Man of the ancient Greeks, but rather an Indo-European “cognate” Strong Man stemming from medieval Germanic traditions. That other leader is Starkaðr, and the old carved image that we see here pictures him in the heroic role of leading into battle the combined armed forces of Sweden, both army and navy.
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Thinking comparatively about Greek mythology VI, A Mycenaean phase in the reception of myths about Hēraklēs
2019.08.29 | By Gregory Nagy
§0. I have already commented on a set of myths known as the twelve Labors of Hēraklēs, and also on a multitude of further myths that I describe as the sub-Labors of the hero. In my posting for 2019.08.15, abbreviated here simply as TC IV, I listed all twelve of the Labors and most of the numerous sub-Labors as narrated by Diodorus of Sicily, who is dated to the first century BCE. And then, in my posting for 2019.08.22, TC V, I commented on three sub-Labors—this time as narrated in the text of “Apollodorus,” dated to the second century CE. Here, in TC VI, I will comment on some further sub-Labors as narrated by both Diodorus and “Apollodorus,” comparing them with the twelve Labors. All along, I will keep one general question foremost in mind: are the sub-Labors of Hēraklēs really different from his Labors? In attempting an answer to this question, I will focus on one sub-Labor and one Labor, both of which are narrated by “Apollodorus.” In the case of the sub-Labor, it is a story that tells how the hero Hēraklēs hunted down and killed with a weapon the Lion of Cithaeron. In the case of the Labor, it is a story that tells how this hero killed with his bare hands the Lion of Nemea by way of a choke-hold—I deliberately use here language that fits the athletic terminology of wrestling. In the illustration for introducing my essay, I show a copy of a picture engraved into a Mycenaean gem, and this picture will turn out to be relevant to my argument, which is, that the stories about the Lion of Cithaeron and the Lion of Nemea both stem from a Mycenaean phase in the reception of myths about Hēraklēs.
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Thinking comparatively about Greek mythology V, Reconstructing Hēraklēs forward in time
2019.08.22 | By Gregory Nagy
§0. Previously, in “Thinking comparatively about Greek mythology IV,” hereafter abbreviated as TC IV, I was reconstructing the mythological persona of the Greek hero Hēraklēs by tracing him backward in time, back to the earliest reconstructable phases of myths that told his story. Here in TC V, I will trace such myths forward in time, and I will start my procedure of “reconstructing forward” by concentrating on the earliest phases of myths telling of deeds performed by Hēraklēs in the service of kings. A case in point will be a mythological persona by the name of Augeias (the latinized spelling is Augeas), king of Elis. As I noted in TC IV, Hēraklēs is pictured in the act of performing a service for this king in the sculptural ensemble of Metope 12 in the Temple of Zeus at Olympia. But what is the hero actually doing here? Well, he is in the middle of shoveling an immeasurable accumulation of manure produced by countless cattle in the Stables of Augeias. I show here a line drawing and, later on in this essay, I will analyze the relevance of what is being pictured.
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Thinking comparatively about Greek mythology IV, Reconstructing Hēraklēs backward in time
2019.08.15 | By Gregory Nagy
§0. As I have argued in the posting for 2019.07.26, “Thinking comparatively about Greek mythology I” (hereafter TC I), the myths about the Greek hero Hēraklēs and the Scandinavian hero Starkaðr are cognate, verbalized in cognate languages belonging to a language-family known to linguists as “Indo-European.” Viewed in this light, the term “Indo-European” can be applied not only with reference to cognate language-groupings like Greek and Old Norse, the second of which is a Scandinavian sub-group of Germanic, but also with reference to cognate myths transmitted in Greek and Germanic languages. That is why I could say, in the posting for 2019.08.02, “Thinking comparatively II” (hereafter TC II), that a persona like Hēraklēs as represented in Greek myths is an “Indo-European” hero, in that he is cognate with a persona like Starkaðr as represented in Old Norse myths. And then, as we saw in the posting for 2019.08.08, “Thinking comparatively III” (hereafter TC III), I could also say that Hēraklēs is cognate with the persona of Śiśupāla in Indic myths. After saying all that, however, I must now make a new point here in TC IV: the fact is, such mythological personae are not the same thing as historical persons, since they become different personalities in the course of their evolution in myths transmitted by differentiated populations speaking differentiated Indo-European languages. Accordingly, I need to qualify the idea of Hēraklēs as an “Indo-European” hero. To make this point here in TC IV, I will start to examine a complex of Greek myths conventionally known as the Labors of Hēraklēs. And my ongoing question will be: what is “Indo-European” about these Labors? In my search for answers, I will be reconstructing Hēraklēs—or, better, the role of Hēraklēs—and the reconstruction will proceed backward in time, starting with a narrative that dates from the first century BCE. From there the reconstruction will proceed further back—back to the fifth century BCE, which is the historical setting for a visual representation of the Labors in the sculptures that once graced the metopes of the Temple of Zeus at Olympia. The illustration for the cover here shows a prime example of these sculptures: we see here the very first of the Labors, which is the hero’s killing of the Nemean Lion.
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Thinking comparatively about Greek mythology III, Hēraklēs compared to a hero of the Mahābhārata
2019.08.08 | By Gregory Nagy
§0. So far, I have been comparing Greek myths about the hero Hēraklēs with Old Norse myths about the hero Starkaðr, concentrating on details that these myths have in common. Now I add to the comparison some further details to be found in an Indic myth about the hero Śiśupāla as featured in the Sanskrit epic known as the Mahābhārata. This Śiśupāla is antagonistic with Krishna, to whom I will hereafter refer as Kṛṣṇa—and who is an incarnation of the god Viṣṇu. But, despite this antagonism between the hero Śiśupāla and the god Viṣṇu/Kṛṣṇa, the hero becomes a devotee of the god at the very moment when Kṛṣṇa kills Śiśupāla. Here is how it happens: Kṛṣṇa, activating his sacred weapon, which is a solar disk, throws it at Śiśupāla, and the disk of the god incarnate beheads the antagonistic hero. At the precise moment of this sacral beheading, which is pictured in the cover illustration I show here, a tejas- ‘flash-of-light’ is seen coming out of the gap between the beheaded hero’s head and body—while going into the body of the god Kṛṣṇa/Viṣṇu, all in an instant. There is a comparable moment in the myth about the death of Hēraklēs, paraphrased and analyzed in H24H 1§§46–47. My earlier analysis, however, can now be enhanced by comparing details in the Greek myth with details that I have just highlighted in the comparable Indic myth.
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