Summoning the Muse

Having examined the evidence for Simonides’ poetic output, it is necessary to say something further about our general uncertainty vis-à-vis the performative context(s) for Simonides’ elegy.33 Different proposals for the circumstances in which the elegy was initially composed are largely the result of whether scholars have relied either on the content of the elegy itself, or on the likely (or known?) performance context of other Greek elegies. Aloni and Grethlein, who envisage a more Spartan-centric view of the poem, argue for a Spartan (possibly Pausanian) commission.34 In contrast, Boedeker has fervently argued in favour of a panhellenic reading of the text, and proposes the funeral at Plataea as a likely occasion for its performance.35 It is certainly not unsound to suggest a wider, public reading of the elegy,36 especially given that even in the poem’s current lacunose state there is a clear inclusion of 29 _{Nenci ad loc.} 30 Campbell (1991) fr.621, cf. Hutchinson (2001) 285-6. 31 _{Hutchinson (2001) 287ff.} 32 _{West (2004b) 84.} 33

For a valuable introduction to the fluid nature of Greek elegy, see now Aloni (2009).

34 _{Aloni (2001) 102-4; Grethlein (2010) 53; cf. also Pavese (1995) passim, Asheri (2004) 69 (‘Ritengo} che l’elegia sia stata eseguita a Sparta quando era ancora possibile lodare Pausania’), and now Nobili (2011), arguing for a Spartan tradition of threnodic elegy—the performance of this being the most likely antecedent for the performance of Simonides’ elegy (note already Boedeker [2001b] 151). 35 _{Boedeker (1998) 237-9, pace Asheri (2004). The poem’s panhellenic tone, according to Boedeker,} can be extended to its evocation of Achilles’ heroic deeds, which are used as a paradigm for the achievements of all the various Greek communities fighting at Plataea (p.237); contra Lloyd-Jones (1994) 1 who believes that Achilles is invoked so as to sing of the glory of a particular individual, such as Leonidas or Pausanias.

numerous poleis, not to mention strong epic overtones which further make it appropriate for a grand event (more on these points below).37 As it is one of the aims of this chapter to show that Simonides’ elegy is notable for its multi-polis, panhellenic perspective, it thus follows that we cannot exclude the possibility that the elegy was designed for some sort of public festival,38—perhaps, given the exceptional nature of its content, one different from that of other, earlier Greek elegies. The point I am ultimately stressing here is that there is still much about Greek elegy—especially its development—with which we are flagrantly ignorant: to limit the variety of performative contexts “appropriate” for Greek elegy seems to me therefore unduly dogmatic.

So now let us turn to the content of some of these fragments.39 In fragment 11, the largest of the recently-discovered fragments, Simonides begins by addressing Achilles with a hymn, singing of the death of Patroclus and Achilles (11.6ff.), the latter dying no ordinary death, but struck down by Apollo. The narrator then records that this ghastly set of events culminated in the destruction of Troy—all ‘[because] of Paris’ wickedness’ ([εἵ νεκ

Ἀλεξά]νδροιο κακόφρ[ονο]ς, 11.11). And for their deeds at Troy, the valiant Danaans ‘are bathed in eternal glory’ ([ἀθά]νατον κέχυται κλέος, 11.15), forever remembered by Homer, the one whose glorious account, directed by the Muses, presents ‘the whole truth’ of the Trojan War, preserving this short-lived race of heroes for future generations (11.17-8).40

Simonides later closes this hymnic section, like the Homeric hymns, with a typical formal address to Achilles,41 and then seeks to lend authority to the remainder of his account by invoking the Muses (11.20-22), who are summoned as an ἐπί κουρον (‘ally’).42 In

37 _{Grethlein (2010) 62-8 attempts to expand on other intertexts between elegiac and epic poetry. But,} although he posits some potentially illuminating parallels between Mimnermus and the Iliad (64-7), he surely undervalues the uniqueness of Simonides’ much more transparent relationship with Homeric epic, for which see Bowie (2001) esp. 63-4.

38 _{So Nobili (2011) 27.}

39 _{It is not my principal intention here to provide an exhaustive analysis of the problems surrounding} the substance of the fragments, though I occasionally discuss those emendations which possibly have an important bearing on the question of Herodotus’ knowledge and use of the poem, for a much more extensive commentary on each of the fragments, see Rutherford (2001) 33-54, cf. (for frs.10-18) Pavese (1995) 8-20.

40

See Fearn (2007b) 20 for the ‘poetic double motivation’ in his engagement with Homer and the Muses here.

41 _{So Parsons (1992) 32; West (1993) 4f.; Sbardella (2000) 1ff.; Bowie (2001) 58; contra Pavese} (1995) 22-25, who reads the reference to Achilles rather as a mythical exemplum (‘L’enfasi posta sull’uccisione di Achilles, suggerisce piuttosto che egli sia introdotto come exemplum di un guerriero che cadde combattendo valorosamente in battaglia e la cui uccisione fu successivamente vendicata da una finale vittoria’, p.22.)

42 _{This address to the Muses is, of course, anticipated in a number of earlier poetic works, see for} instance the opening of Mimnermus’ Smyrneis (13 W2 = Paus. 9.29.4), for which see the useful discussion in Bowie (2010) 148-9. In Persae, Timotheus too invokes Apollo as an ἐπί κουρος (202ff.), thus following in the steps of Simonides, cf. Rutherford (2001) 46. On the possibility of

appealing to the Muses only as a guide, Simonides clearly intends to reposition himself apart from the Homeric narrator. Unlike Homer, he does not appeal to the Muses in order to narrate his poem, but rather to proffer additional help.43 But while much has been said of the self-confidence and authoritative voice of the historian deriving from Ionian science,44 it is still unacknowledged by most that this may have also stemmed from non-prose genres. Be that as it may, Simonides’ dislodging of the omniscient Muses from fully imbuing his account is a highly symbolic action, telling the audience both that the narrator is relying on his own knowledge, and that it is his own praise which immortalises the Plataiomachoi;45 hence this passage provides one of the clearest indications yet that the historian’s self- assured reliance on his own claims might equally be inherited from verse. Bowie takes this one step further, rightly speculating whether or not Herodotus could even have opened his

Histories the way he does without having known Simonides’ poem, or indeed whether Thucydides would have felt so compelled to dwell on the great magnitude of the Peloponnesian War.46

After his evocation of the Muses to fulfill an auxiliary role, Simonides begins over the course of the remaining lines to narrate some of the details concerning the battle itself, and he does so with a seemingly Spartan-centric perspective (11.24-34). Simonides writes ‘of those who held the line for Spart[a and for Greece]’, and explicitly refers to ‘[Cleo]mbrotus’ most noble [son,]’ (11.25, 33-4 respectively). It is this section of the narrative above all others that has fuelled those interpretations which hold that the poem is a Spartan commission. Indeed it has even been suggested that a line in Pindar (ἐν Σπάρτᾳ δ᾽ ἐπέω πρὸ Κιθαιρῶνος μάχαν, P. 1.77) suggests a potential context for the poem, giving further credence to this view.47 But even if this elegy, or some other poem, was indeed performed at Sparta, surely it does not follow a fortiori that the Spartans personally funded its composition; it is just as likely that the elegy was re-performed throughout Greece, in which case Pindar’s statement needs to be interpreted rather more flexibly. Indeed we will see below that any notion that this poem was composed exclusively to celebrate Spartan deeds is surely tempered by the poem’s inclusion of a number of other poleis, including Corinth, Megara, and Athens.48

further echoes of Simonides’ use of the term ἐπί κουρος much later in Roman literature, see O’Hara (1998).

43

Stehle (2001) 107-11.

44 _{See, amongst others, Marincola (2001), Goldhill (2002) chs.1-2.} 45 _{Grethlein (2010) 63; Rutherford (2001) 45-6.}

46 _{Bowie (2001) 65.} 47

Parsons (1992) 32.

48 _{For a useful critique of the different textual emendations offered vis-à-vis this line, some of which} include Athens within the narrative, see Rutherford (2001) 46-7.

In some of the other recently-discovered fragments, which may or may not have originally formed part of the same elegy to that which fragment 11 was originally attached, there includes: an elaboration on the Corinthians’ role in the battle (frs.15-16, see below), a quotation of and reflection on Homer’s leaves simile (fr.19),49

and an elaborate musing on the transient nature of human life, which also cites Homer (fr.20 [v.14 for Homer]).50 So these fragments, however much they should be combined with the fragment already discussed, undoubtedly touch upon a variety of topoi, strengthening Aloni’s view that

Simonides’ elegy was as much celebratory, exhortatory and funerary, as it was narrative.51

Furthermore, the elevated language of the “new Simonides”, littered with quasi-Homeric epithets and eloquent, affecting language, also hints at the likely fame the poem enjoyed. For instance there is a reference to the ἐπικλέα ἔργα Κορί ν[θ]ου (11.35), Megara is named [Ν]ί σου πόλιν (11.37), and the Spartans are described as Δώρου δὲ παιςὶ καὶ

Ἡρακλέος (13.9-10). There is also the specific reference to Homer discussed above (fr.20.14), a fairly infrequent occurrence within our body of extant archaic and early- classical literature. Moreover, the beginning of fragment 11 incorporates a Homeric simile elaborating on the death of Achilles (11.1-3), and applies various other epic-style formulations—both in the opening hymn, and in the main narrative.52 These fragments, then, offer a compelling glimpse of the literary style and poetic range that won Simonides the sort of acclaim we see in the later testimonia. And for our own more immediate purposes, it is worth reinforcing the point made already that it would be somewhat far-fetched to suggest that such a poignant poem, written on a pertinent topic by a prolific and much-admired poet, could have possibly escaped Herodotus’ attention; indeed I will now turn to examining Herodotus’ reaction to the elegy.