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2006 Classical Journal 101.3 Kandaules W PDF
2006 Classical Journal 101.3 Kandaules W PDF
Abstract: Herodotus frames his Histories with the logoi of Kandaules and Masistes:
tales of tyrannical eros that compare in a number of well-documented ways. Herodo-
tus’ suppression of names for both Kandaules’ and Masistes’ wives has received
little comment, however. By juxtaposing evidence from other Herodotean narratives
concerning naming in general and the anonymity of women with evidence from
Athenian oratory and comedy, I argue that Herodotus’ suppression of names for
these two wives is purposeful. The women’s anonymity marks them with respect and
exonerates them from culpability in the ultimate demise of the tyrants associated
with them.
H
erodotus’ parable of Gyges, Kandaules and Kandaules’ wife
(1.8.1–12.2) has occasioned a veritable library of scholarly
commentary about its purpose and placement.2 As so many
other tales in the Histories, the story of Kandaules is understood to
teach Herodotus’ audience moral lessons about kingship and propri-
ety, and, as one of Herodotus’ introductory narratives, the tale also
serves to foreshadow King Xerxes’ eventual downfall. Less has been
said about the narrative of Masistes’ wife from late in the Histories, a
story which also helps frame Herodotus’ work as a whole and to
which the tale of Kandaules’ wife has thus often and quite profitably
been compared (9.108–113).3 In the comparison that follows I focus
on one seemingly small and relatively overlooked feature of these
tales: the lack of a proper name for both women. I argue that not
naming these women is in fact a deliberate and significant narrative
strategy for Herodotus, and that we can observe a generally similar
pattern of naming and not naming certain types of women, as well
1
An early version of this article was presented at the meeting of the Classical
Association of the Middle West and South, April 2005. I wish to thank the audience at
that presentation, as well as Charlie Chiasson, Kevin Daly, Nancy Felson, Rachel
Friedman, Greta Ham, Jim Heath, Rosaria Munson, John Porter, Susan Shapiro, and
particularly S. Douglas Olson and the anonymous reviewers at CJ for their insightful
comments. I would also like to thank the Bucknell University students from Greek 151
(Fall 2003) who helped me with the beginnings of this idea.
2
See, e.g., Tourraix (1976); Dewald (1981); Konstan (1983); Evans (1985); Harrison
(1997); Blok (2002). On the tale of Gyges and Kandaules as a “short story,” see Gray
(2002) 293. For problems in identifying Herodotean tales as logoi, see de Jong (2002)
255.
3
Most notably by Gammie (1986) 171–95, who focuses on abuses of tyranny.
4
The exception being Hazewindus (2004) 43–128, who treats both narratives, al-
though she concentrates primarily on the character of Amestris in the Masistes logos.
5
Boedeker (2000) 109.
6
The passage is incorrectly cited by Boedeker (2000) 109 as Hdt. 4.36.
KANDAULES’ WIFE, MASISTES’ WIFE 3
ejpebavt euon de; ejpi; pasevwn tw'n new'n Pevrsai kai; Mh'doi kai; Saavkai. touvtwn
de; a[rista pleouvsa" pareivconto neva" Foivnike" kai; Foinivkwn Sidwvnioi.
touvt oisi pa'si kai; toi'si ej" to;n pezo;n tetagmevnoisi aujtw'n ejph'san
eJkavstoisi ejpicwvrioi hJgemovne", tw'n ejgwv, ouj ga;r ajnagkaivh/ ejxevrgomai ej"
iJstorivh" lovgon, ouj paramevmnhmai.
Persians and Medes and Sakai were sailors on all the ships. The Phoenicians
offered the best sailing ships, especially the Sidonians. All of these men like
those drawn up in the infantry had each their own local leader, whose
names I have not mentioned additionally, since I am not compelled to do so
by the course of my inquiry.
kai; Lewnivdh" te ejn touvtw/ tw'/ povnw/ pivptei ajnh;r genovmeno" a[risto" kai;
e{teroi met∆ aujtou' ojnomastoi; Spartihtevwn, tw'n ejgw; wJ" ajndrw'n ajxivwn
genomevnwn ejpuqovmhn ta; oujnovmata, ejpuqovmhn de; kai; aJpavntwn tw'n
trihkosivwn.
And Leonidas, after he proved a most excellent warrior, fell in this battle
and with him other notable Spartans, whose names I have found out be-
cause they were worthy men, and I have even found out the names of all
three hundred (7.224.1).
Macan long ago noted the curiosity of omitting names for these
men.9 It is indeed striking that Herodotus lets his audience know
that he has heard names for all the dead Spartans but is not willing
to divulge them. Herodotus underscores his open suppression of this
information by immediately continuing his narrative with specific
names of fallen Persian warriors of Xerxes’ family.10 Based on what
7
For various proposals, see Macan’s 1907 commentary ad loc.
8
Boedeker (2000) 109.
9
Macan (1907) ad loc.
10
kai; dh; Persevwn pivptousi ejnqau'ta a(lloi te polloi; kai; ojnomastoiv, ejn de; dh;
kai; Dareiv ou duv o pai' de" ∆Abrokovmh" te kai; ÔUperavnqe", ejk th' " ∆Artavnew qugatro;"
4 STEPHANIE LARSON
Herodotus himself says, Lateiner has made the most reasonable sug-
gestion for the motives behind Herodotus’ omission of the Greek
names here: as an honor to the glory of the dead Spartans, he has
chosen not to record them.11 As wJ" ajndrw'n ajxivwn genomevnwn and the
rest of the passage implies, it is not only the most distinguished lead-
ers at Thermopylae who are worthy, but the rest of the three hun-
dred men likewise deserve to be remembered respectfully and com-
munally through the virtual cenotaph for their sacrifice that Herod-
otus thus provides. Herodotus’ suppression of individual Spartan
identities thereby accentuates the worthy characteristics these men
exemplified in carrying out duties expected for their civic and
gender roles. Herodotus continues by considering the dead Achae-
menid notables differently, for in this quasi-sacred context of Therm-
opylae he freely names them, most likely because of their valuable
individual and collective status as identifiable postwar trophies.
Herodotus’ suppression of Spartan names at 7.224.1 contrasts
with other sections of his narrative, most notably his catalogue of
Xerxes’ land and naval forces, where the historian describes the vari-
ous contingents in ethnographic detail and assigns them to named
Persian commanders (7.61–99). The multitude of Persian names,
family trees, details of battle dress and gear creates a composite ef-
fect of horror at Xerxes’ massive assemblage which Herodotus seems
to include in order to emphasize the miracle of its eventual defeat
(see esp. 7.81.1). Waters has paralleled this Herodotean catalogue
with the Iliadic Catalogue of Ships and discusses other passages
where Herodotus includes such lists.12 Given the historian’s long-
recognized tendency to include such detail, Boedeker’s suggestion
that Herodotus has suppressed the known names of the Spartans at
7.224.1 simply in order to avoid listing names thus seems unlikely.13
By informing his audience of his knowledge of the Spartans’ names
and by freely listing various Achaemenids at the end of this section,
he instead highlights the anonymity of the Spartans and thus invites
his reader to honor them.
In these passages and thus in his own words, then, Herodotus
acknowledges the potential reasons why he might choose to omit
known names from his narrative: to preserve a sense of decorum, to
pursue a narrative strategy, or to mark respect for unnamed charact-
ers involved in a narrative. The latter two reasons are clearly inter-
related and are likely operating in the narratives of Kandaules’ and
Masistes’ wives.
15
Hazewindus (2004) 47–8; for the retropective importance of the abduction sto-
ries in light of the Kandaules’ narrative, see Hazewindus (2004) 239.
16
See esp. Hdt. 1.10.2–3. Flory (1987) 30, 32–5 has contrasted aspects of the stories
of Io, et al., with Kandaules’ wife. See Arieti (1995) 17 for a comparison between the
motives of the male protagonists in these stories.
17
For the possible significance in meaning of Artaynte’s name in relation to the
male Artayntes, near-murderer of Masistes, mentioned just prior to the narrative
about Masistes’ wife and Xerxes (9.107.1–3), see Hazewindus (2004) 93–4, 104. For Art-
aynte as the destroyer of Masistes’ entire oikos, see Gray (1995) 208.
KANDAULES’ WIFE, MASISTES’ WIFE 7
22
One might object that Herodotus could not have discovered every name for
every character in every logos; not naming a minor character in his narrative thus
holds little or no significance. However, in the interest of revealing all interpretive
possibilities in the Histories, it seems best to begin our examination of each logos and
its attendant details by assuming that Herodotus was well-informed and purposefully
manipulated his sources. In other words, we owe it to the author to look at each case
in which a detail, such as a name, is absent from the narrative. Given corroborative
outside evidence or parallel tendencies within Herodotus’ work as a whole, we may
then discuss whether or not the specific omission might have been purposeful; we
thus open discussion of any resultant and potentially important implications. At times
this approach will end in vain, for there are instances of anonymity in the text which
seem to be relatively unimportant as background for Herodotus’ main points or about
which we can find no outside corroboration. In such cases we may then indeed chalk
KANDAULES’ WIFE, MASISTES’ WIFE 9
up the absence of detail either to Herodotus’ sources, as Waters would have it, or to
the historian’s disinterest in a particular element of a larger logos. But we cannot sim-
ply dismiss those cases in which it is fair to suggest that Herodotus had a specific
purpose in mind in the inclusion or omission of a small detail of his narrative. To give
a further example: for years commentators dismissed Herodotus’ genealogy of the
Heraklids as irrelevant, for the catalogue contains the names of no women and only a
mention of the union between an anonymous slave-woman and Herakles at its begin-
ning (1.7.4). Yet as Hazewindus has pointed out, the function of the mention of the
slave woman and Herakles at the head of the Heraklid family tree serves to set up the
subsequent story of Kandaules, the last ruling Heraklid of the logos, and his wife
(Hazewindus (2004) 46–7). In other words, the anonymous slave-woman, a figure who
at first glance would seem merely tangential if not completely insignificant, bears
importance for the procession of the narrative. Given her status as an introduction to
the story of Kandaules and his wife, it is reasonable to suggest that her anonymity
parallels the subsequent anonymity of Kandaules’ wife and should not be dismissed
as a minor detail or as Herodotus’ simplistic repetition of an incomplete source.
23
On the Demaratus narrative as a whole, see Boedeker (1987) 185–201; on his
mother specifically, see Boedeker (1987) 188–9, 194.
10 STEPHANIE LARSON
reputation.
This is not to suggest that Herodotus consistently omits the
names of women whom he considers of upstanding reputation and
names only women of ill repute. He does quite the opposite, in fact,
in his short and relatively obscure narrative of the unnamed but ma-
nipulative second wife of Etearchus, ruler of the Cretan community
of Oaxus and grandfather of Battus (4.154.1–5). Herodotus also takes
the opposite tack at 7.99.1–3 — where he boldly calls attention to a
different approach — by naming the powerful and famous female
captain Artemisia, whom, as is often surmised, Herodotus may have
admired as a fellow Halikarnassian.24
Noticeably often, however, Herodotus emphasizes the names of
powerful but wicked female figures. In narrating Cyrenaean events,
for example, he frequently names the powerful and violent Phere-
time, royal wife of Battus the lame and mother of Arkesilaos (4.162–
7, 200–5).25 Herodotus likewise mentions names of some of the more
notorious and well-known Greek courtesans, such as Rhodopis, who
were fascinating yet simultaneously reviled figures throughout the
oikumene (2.134.1–135.6).26 A general tendency to suppress the names
of respectable women and to include the names of powerful or
threatening women in Herodotus’ narrative is thus apparent
throughout the Histories.
24
On Artemisia in general, see Dewald (1981) 109–10; Munson (1988) 91–106;
Hazewindus (2004) 27–32.
25
On the tale of Pheretime, see Hazewindus (2004) 217–36.
26
Although Herodotus does not often name prostitutes in brothels, his silence
about their identities is understandable since most brothel prostitutes were unindi-
viduated slaves (see, e.g., Hdt. 1.93–4, 135; 2.126; Davidson (1997) 83–91). Interest-
ingly, most of the nameless prostitutes in Herodotus were foreign (see McClure (2003)
12, for commentary on this aspect of Herodotean narrative and these passages). See
Davidson (1997) 104–7, 109–36 for discussions of the fame and practices of the most
well-paid hetairai.
27
For Herodotean selectivity and omissions of entire subjects, see Lateiner (1989)
59–75.
28
On Herodotean familiarity with and general similarities to Athenian perform-
KANDAULES’ WIFE, MASISTES’ WIFE 11
eij dev me dei' kai; gunaikeiva" ti ajreth'", o{sai nu'n ejn chreiva/ e[sontai,
mnhsqh'nai, braceiva/ parainevsei a{pan shmanw'. th'" te ga;r uJparcouvsh"
fuvsew" mh; ceivrosi genevsqai uJmi'n megavl h hJ dovxa kai; h|" a]n ejp∆ ejlavciston
ajreth'" pevri h] yovgou ejn toi'" a[rsesi klevo" h/\.
ances of the late fifth century, particularly performances of the sophists, see Lateiner
(1989) 19; Thomas (1992) 125; Desmond (2004) 26–8 (who also points out difficulties in
locating Herodotean ideas in fifth-century culture). For specific comparison of Hero-
dotean polemic, used especially in his ethnographies and geographies, to public per-
formances of fifth-century sophistic, medical and scientific epideixis, see Thomas (2000)
257–60, 270–85. See Flory (1980) 12–28 for the view that the length of Herodotus’
Histories, as a book, prohibited its popularity during Herodotus’ lifetime and that the
work was “not even widely known in the late fifth century”. For Herodotean
influence on later writers, see, e.g., Lateiner (1989) 217, 220–4.
29
Moles (2002) 35–52; Fowler (2003) 308–11 with bibliography. For the purposes
of this paper, it is not necessary to reconsider the vexed question of Herodotus’ spe-
cific date, since attributing his work to the late fifth-century is sufficient in establishing
a general mentalité. For discussion and bibliography on the text’s dating, see Moles
(2002) 34 and n. 13; Fowler (2003) 306–7 (advocating the 430s).
30
For the panhellenic composition of Herodotus’ audience, see Moles (2002) 35
and n. 21; for bibliography, see Moles (2002) 51 n. 87.
31
Fowler (2003) 312.
12 STEPHANIE LARSON
32
Schaps (1977) 323–30. Gould has drawn attention specifically to Demosthenes’
private speeches, in which Demosthenes mentions 509 males by name, but only 27
females, all of whom are either hetairai or slaves. When Demosthenes refers to female
members of his own family or other respectable females, he is careful to avoid using
their proper names (for further details see Gould (1980) 45 and n. 49; Schaps (1977)
325–30).
33
Schaps (1977) 330.
34
Sommerstein (1980) 393–407; he also points out the value in acknowledging
this practice when interpreting ancient comedy in general. For the exceptional Lysi-
mache/Lysistrata, see pp. 395–6, 402, 406.
35
Wolff (1964) (who also argues that the specific plot of the Masistes narrative
helped Herodotus choose which variant of the Gyges story to include); Herington
(1991) 152–3 (who notes a number of valuable verbal parallels but seems unaware of
Gammie’s earlier work); Harrison (1997) 193; Blok (2002) 230–2. Hazewindus (2004)
122–8, 240 offers a fine synopsis of many earlier comparisons but also seems unaware
of Gammie’s previous discussion; see also Dewald (1997) 68–9 and n. 17 for a brief
comparison. For thematic repetition in the ending episodes of the Histories, the “ring
composition” of the Histories as a whole, as well as specifics about other concluding
episodes, see Herington (1991) 149–60; Dewald (1997) 65–82; Desmond (2004) 31–40.
36
Gammie (1986) 185–7.
KANDAULES’ WIFE, MASISTES’ WIFE 13
37
Toward a similar conclusion, Harrison (1997, 189) implies that Herodotus uses
stories of rape and (by extension) stories of attempted rape as tales upon which to
base conclusions about male protagonists.
38
Blok (2002) 232, commenting on Tourraix (1976), esp. 370–1.
39
Wolff (1964) 677–8.
40
Bernardete (1969) 212.
41
Gray (2002) 312.
42
Although the term aidôs defies simple translation, I refer to female aidôs as
“propriety” or “reputation,” but only with an understanding of the complexity of the
term, which encompasses shame tinged with a sense of upholding one’s virtue in the
face of the expectations of others and of society as a whole; in return one gains both
respect and honor (Harder (1953) 448–9). At the same time, aidôs involves meeting
one's own internal standards by focusing on personal culpability in losing virtue
(Cairns (1993) 14–15, 26; see also Cairns (1996) 78 and Ferrari (2002) 73–80). On aidôs in
the Kandaules logos, see Cairns (1996) 78–81. For the aidôs of Kandaules’ wife, see also
the general comments of Harrison (1997) 194–5; Travis (2000) 337–8, 342. For shame as
a theme connected to women in Herodotus in general, see Harrison (1997) 193–5.
14 STEPHANIE LARSON
para; ga;r toi'si Ludoi'si, scedo;n de; kai; para; toi'si a[lloisi barbavroisi, kai;
a[ndra ojfqh'nai gumno;n ej" aijscuvnhn megavlhn fevrei.
For among the Lydians, and also with nearly all other barbarians, even for a
man to be seen naked brings great shame.43
43
Arieti (1995, 22) has suggested that Herodotus remarks on the shame involved
in Lydian nudity in order to highlight Kandaules’ wife’s motives.
44
The tales seem also to concern the sad futility of even royal women’s owner-
ship of their own bodies and futures. This anxiety over female sexuality in these
stories recalls one of the more striking parallels between the sexual transgressions of
the male protagonists, namely, that both blameless wives are “loved” by their husb-
ands exclusively. As Gammie and Hazewindus note, Herodotus heads each tale with
a mention of eros (Gammie (1987) 186; Hazewindus (2004) 49, 94–5). That Herodotus
also concludes the Masistes’ story with Xerxes’ eros finalizes this additional thematic
link between the two tales (see Gray (2002) 310 for the framing of the entire Masistes
narrative through eros). Given this emphasis, one might call both narratives, after
Dewald (1997) 69 n. 17 and 70, Harems-Liebesgeschichten: stories that concentrate on
sexual fanaticism of eastern tyrants and related dynastic downfall. (Other scholars,
too, have their own names for the tale: novella (Jacoby) and drama (Stahl, Grene, and
others); see Gammie (1987) 177 and nn. 26–7).
45
On nomoi in Herodotus, see, e.g., Lateiner (1989) 137 and n. 28 with sources
there; Flory (1987) 33; on nomos in Book One, see esp. Konstan (1983) 1–19 (11–13 on
the story of Kandaules in particular); Travis (2000) 338–9 (on the intersections between
personal and cultural nomoi in Kandaules’ tale), 344–5.
KANDAULES’ WIFE, MASISTES’ WIFE 15
46
On the concept of rape in Otanes’ speech, see Harrison (1997) 189; on the views
toward tyranny in the speech in general, see Gammie (1986) 172–5, 195.
47
Gammie (1986) 187.
48
As Cairns has noted in his discussion of Gyges’ maxim on aidôs, proper wifely
aidôs is exclusively restricted to nudity before her husband. Bodily display before any
other male results in the abandonment of “the disposition of aidôs itself” and thus
involves a crucial loss of honor linked to one’s social role (Cairns (1996) 80–2). The
relationship between aidôs and clothing in the Kandaules narrative has drawn much
discussion recently, although Harder was the first to comment at length on protective
clothing as a symbol of aidôs (Harder (1953) 448–9). Cairns draws similar conclusions
about the tale by noting that aidôs highlights the interrelationships between the con-
cepts of nakedness and viewing, clothing and propriety, and honor for women and
their oikoi (Cairns (1996) 80–1). Ferrari too comments on Gyges’ maxim: “there is a
play, in the sentence, between the image of aidôs as clothing and that of aidôs as the
boundary of decency” (Ferrari (2002) 54–6, 73–81; quote from p. 79). For the omni-
present motif of spectation in the tale and also in Book One in general, see Travis
(2000) 332–4, 336–56. For the avoidance of female nudity out of shame and perhaps
even danger in archaic and classical Greek art, see Bonfante (1989) 558–62, 567–70.
49
Gould (1980) 53; Flory (1987) 35; Hazewindus (2004) 47; see Hazewindus (2004)
84 for the mention of Masistes’ wife’s anonymity.
50
Hazewindus (2004) 239.
16 STEPHANIE LARSON
51
Gammie (1987) 186.
52
Waters (1985) 128–9.
53
Wells (1923) 19–26, esp. 19–21; Flory (1987) 31.
54
On invented functional names, such as Kalypso, Oedipous, Hippolytus,
Odysseus, & sim., see Peradotto (1990) 120–42. That the story of Kandaules and his
wife contains certain folktale motifs does not negate the use of historical and proper
names in the story, as Waters (1985 128) suggests . For the folktale motifs of the Janus-
agent and the eternal-triangle in the tale, see Lang (1944) 146–9; see also Lang (1944)
201, for historicity behind the folklore motifs in the Kandaules story.
55
“Kandaules,” as has been suggested, may have been a sacral title for the king,
while Myrsilus was his proper name and the one with which certain Greeks were
more familiar (How and Wells (1928) 56). For Herodotus’ choice in using this title as a
more exotic and non-Greek name for the tyrant, see Evans (1985) 231. Evans (1985)
229–31 suggests that eastern Greeks would have been more familiar with the story
than others because the tale in origin was Lydian. Pedley (1968) 36 argues for the
story’s Greek origin. Contra Pedley, see also Arieti (1995) 21 n. 37, who discusses
Evans’ argument. For the Greekness of the Masistes’ logos, see Hazewindus (2004) 115
with n. 29, 122.
KANDAULES’ WIFE, MASISTES’ WIFE 17
Conclusions
56
For the perennial question of Herodotus’ sources, see Fehling (1989, English
translation of 1971 edition); Hartog (1988, English translation of 1980 edition);
Pritchett (1993); Fowler (1996) 80–6 and bibliography there, esp. nn. 125, 130, and 134;
Shrimpton (1997) with appendix of sources; Boedeker (2000) 99–102, also with biblio-
graphy.
57
Thus Hazewindus (2004) 105–6, 108, 117, 119, 126–7, 218, following Sancisi-
Weerdenburg (1983) 27–30.
58
See, e.g., Konstan (1983) 12; Lateiner (1989) 138.
59
Waters (1971) 84; Dewald (1981) 106; Hazewindus (2004) 80, 125–6.
18 STEPHANIE LARSON
STEPHANIE LARSON
Bucknell University
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