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Tracking Hermes Pursuing Mercury John F Miller All Chapter
Tracking Hermes Pursuing Mercury John F Miller All Chapter
John F. Miller
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Title Pages
Title Pages
John F. Miller, Jenny Strauss Clay
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Title Pages
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ISBN 978–0–19–877734–2
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Acknowledgements
(p.v) Acknowledgements
John F. Miller, Jenny Strauss Clay
Many have assisted in bringing this book to fruition. Anonymous referees at two
stages helped with shaping the volume and with many other useful suggestions.
At Oxford University Press, Charlotte Loveridge encouraged the project from the
start and saw us through the initial stages; Georgina Leighton expertly and
patiently stewarded the book to publication. Our two editorial assistants, Megan
Bowen and Matthew Pincus, helped mightily with preparation of the copy. Above
all, we thank the contributors to the volume for their stimulating scholarship and
their collegial spirit.
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Acknowledgements
Page 2 of 2
List of Figures
2.1. Athenian black-figure hydria. Hermes and Maia. c.520 BCE. Paris,
Petit Palais 310. 14
Photo © Petit Palais/Roger-Viollet.
2.2. Detail of the hydria in Fig. 2.1: lion. 16
Photo © Petit Palais/Roger-Viollet.
2.3. Detail of the hydria in Fig. 2.1: goat. 17
Photo © Petit Palais/Roger-Viollet.
2.4. Athenian black-figure lekythos. Chariot of Apollo, with Hermes. c.500
BCE. Yale University Art Gallery 1913.111. 18
Photo: Museum, courtesy of Susan B. Matheson.
2.5. View of the lekythos in Fig. 2.4: Maia (?). 19
Photo: Museum, courtesy of Susan B. Matheson.
2.6. Athenian black-figure neck-amphora. Apollo between Dionysos/
Thyone and Hermes/Maia. c.520 BCE. San Simeon, Hearst Castle inv.
5563. 20
Photo by Victoria Garagliano/© Hearst Castle®/CA State Parks.
2.7. Athenian red-figure amphora. Detail of Hermes and Maia. c.510 BCE.
Munich, Antikensammlungen 2304. 23
After Knauss (2012) 166. By permission of the Staatliche
Antikensammlungen und Glyptothek, Munich.
2.8. Athenian black-figure volute-krater (“François Vase”). Detail of
chariot of Hermes and Maia, with the Moirai. c.570 BCE. Florence,
Museo Nazionale Archaeologico 4209. 25
Photo courtesy of the National Archaeological Museum of Florence.
3.1. Votive relief dedicated to the Nymphs, from the Cave to the Nymphs
(Vari Cave) on Mount Hymettos, white marble, 52 × 36 cm, 340–330 BCE.
Athens, National Archaeological Museum, NM 2011. 32
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List of Figures
Page 2 of 4
List of Figures
13.3. A painted image to the right of the door of the taberna at ix.12.6,
Pompeii. An ithyphallic Mercury runs left towards the entrance. 204
Museo Archeologico Nazionale. © Vanni Archive/Art Resource, NY.
14.1. Scene from the Tabula Iliaca. Musei Capitolini, Rome. 218
Source: DAI. Photographer: R. Sansaini. DAI-Neg.-No.: D-DAI–Rom
57.974.
14.2. Scene from the Tabula Iliaca. Musei Capitolini, Rome. 219
Source: DAI. Photographer: R. Sansaini. DAI-Neg.-No.: D-DAI–Rom
57.975.
15.1. Attic black-figure column-krater, 520–510 BCE. London, British
Museum B362. 230
Photo: © Trustees of the British Museum.
(p.xiii) 15.2. Attic black-figure lekythos, c.480 BCE. Louvain-la-Neuve,
Musée universitaire AC118. 231
Photo: Jean-Pierre Bougnet © UCL-Musée de Louvain-la-Neuve.
15.3. Attic red-figure column-krater, Orchard Painter, 470–460 BCE.
Naples, Museo Archeologico Nazionale 81295 (H3369). 232
Photo reproduced by permission of the Ministero dei Beni e delle Attività
Culturali e del Turismo – Museo Archeologico di Napoli.
15.4. Attic black-figure amphora, 500–480 BCE. Würzburg, Martin von
Wagner Museum 233. 233
© Martin von Wagner Museum der Universität Würzburg, photo: P.
Neckermann, respectively E. Oehrlein.
15.5. Attic black-figure olpe, Dot-Ivy Group, 500–490 BCE. Paris, Musée
du Louvre F325. 234
Photo: © RMN-Grand Palais (Musée du Louvre)/Stéphane Maréchalle.
15.6. Attic red-figure pelike, Geras Painter, c.490 BCE. Paris, Bibliothèque
nationale de France 397. 235
Photo: Serge Oboukhoff © BnF–CNRS–Maison Archéologie & Ethnologie,
René Ginouvès.
15.7. Attic red-figure lekythos, Icarus Painter, 470–460 BCE. Nicholson
Museum, The University of Sydney. NM51.14. 236
Photo: Nicholson Museum, The University of Sydney.
15.8. Attic red-figure cup, Ambrosios Painter, 510–500 BCE. London,
Sotheby’s 14.12.1995, no. 84. 238
Photo after Sotheby’s, London, sale catalogue (14.12.1995): 45, no. 84.
17.1. Samothracian herm. 275
Illustration by David Diener, after photo published by Charles
Champoiseau, “Note sur des antiquités trouvés dans l’île de Samothrace,”
Comptes rendus des séances de l’Académie des Inscriptions et Belles-
Lettres, 36e année, N. 1, 1892: 24. ©Académie des inscriptions et Belles-
Lettres, used by kind permission.
Page 3 of 4
List of Figures
Whilst every effort has been made to secure permission to reproduce the
illustrations, we may have failed in a few cases to trace the copyright holders. If
contacted, the publisher will be pleased to rectify any omissions at the earliest
opportunity.
Page 4 of 4
List of Abbreviations
AA
Archäologischer Anzeiger
ABL
Haspels, C. H. E. 1936.Attic Black-figured Lekythoi. Paris.
ABSA
Annual of the British School in Athens
ABV
Beazley, J. D. 1956. Attic Black-figure Vase-painters. Oxford.
ACD
Acta classica Universitatis Scientiarum Debreceniensis
AD
Αρχαιλογικόν Δελτίον. Athens.
AE
Εφημερίς Αρχαιολογική. Athens.
ΑΕΜΘ
Το Αρχαιολογικό Έργο στη Μακεδονία και Θράκη
Aevum(ant)
Aevum Antiquum
AJA
American Journal of Archaeology
AJP
American Journal of Philology
AK
Antike Kunst
Alabanda
McCabe, D. F. 1996. Alabanda Inscriptions. Texts and List. “The
Princeton Project on the Inscriptions of Anatolia.” The Institute for
Page 1 of 11
List of Abbreviations
Page 2 of 11
List of Abbreviations
Page 3 of 11
List of Abbreviations
Page 4 of 11
List of Abbreviations
Page 5 of 11
List of Abbreviations
IGSK
Inschriften griechischer Städte aus Kleinasien (Bonn 1972–)
IIasos
Blümel, W. 1985. Die Inschriften von Iasos. Vol. 2 (Inschriften
griechischer Städte aus Kleinasien, 28,2). Bonn.
IJNA
International Journal of Nautical Archaeology and Underwater
Exploration
IKnidos
Blümel, W. 1992. Die Inschriften von Knidos I IGSK Vol. 41. Bonn.
IKosM
Maiuri, A., ed. 1925. Nuova silloge epigrafica di Rodi e Cos.
ILampsakos
Frisch, P. 1978. Die Inschriften von Lampsakos (Inschriften
griechischer Städte aus Kleinasien, 6). Bonn.
ILouvre
Bernand, E. 1992. Inscriptions grecques d’Égypte et de Nubie au
Musée du Louvre. Paris.
IMTKyzPropontIns
Barth, M. and J. Stauber. 1996. Inschriften Mysia & Troas [IMT].
Leopold Wenger Institut. Universität München. Version of 25.8.1993
(Ibycus). Packard Humanities Institute CD #7.—Mysia, “Kyzikene,
Propontisinseln,” nos. 1301–94.
IMylasa
Blümel, W. 1987–8. Die Inschriften von Mylasa. 2 vols. (Inschriften
griechischer Städte aus Kleinasien, 34–5). Bonn.
INysa
McCabe, D. F. 1991. Nysa Inscriptions. Texts and List. “The Princeton
Project on the Inscriptions of Anatolia.” The Institute for Advanced
Study, Princeton.
IosPE I2
Latyshev, B. 1916. Inscriptiones antiquae orae septentrionalis Ponti
Euxini graecae et latinae. Vol. 1, 2nd ed. Inscriptiones Tyriae, Olbiae,
Chersonesi Tauricae. St. Petersburg.
IPergamon
Fränkel, M. 1890–5. Die Inschriften von Pergamon. 2 vols.
(Altertümer von Pergamon, 8,1–2). Berlin.
(p.xix) IPerge
Sahin, S. 1999 and 2004. Die Inschriften von Perge. 2 vols.
(Inschriften griechischer Städte aus Kleinasien, 54 and 61). Bonn.
IPriene
Hiller von Gaertringen, F. 1906. Inschriften von Priene. Berlin.
IPrusa
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List of Abbreviations
Page 7 of 11
List of Abbreviations
Page 8 of 11
List of Abbreviations
Page 9 of 11
List of Abbreviations
Page 10 of 11
List of Abbreviations
Page 11 of 11
List of Contributors
Page 1 of 2
List of Contributors
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Introduction
Introduction
Jenny Strauss Clay
John F. Miller
DOI:10.1093/oso/9780198777342.003.0001
Page 1 of 11
Introduction
Of all the divinities of classical antiquity, the Greek Hermes (Mercury in his
Roman alter ego) is the most versatile, enigmatic, complex, and ambiguous. The
runt of the Olympian litter, he is the god of lies and tricks, yet is also kindly to
mankind and a bringer of luck; his functions embrace both the marking of
boundaries and their transgression, as well as commerce, lucre and theft,
rhetoric, and practical jokes; he also plays the role of mediator between all
realms of human and divine activity, embracing heaven, earth, and the
Netherworld. His assimilation to the Egyptian Thoth and Hermes Trismegistus,
the diffusion of his cult beyond Greece and Rome, and his role in late antique
and medieval allegory demonstrate how his multifarious aspects continuously
evolved and changed in different periods and environments. While we do not
pretend to cover exhaustively the myriad aspects of Hermes/Mercury—origins,
patronage of the gymnasium, relation to the other trickster figures—
nevertheless, we hope at least to track the god’s footprints in many domains that
reflect his variegated nature.
Despite his appeal and iconic presence in marketing everything from flowers to
silk scarves, the figure of Hermes/Mercury has been understudied, although
recent work—including commentaries on the Homeric Hymn to Hermes by A.
Vergados (2012) and N. Richardson (2010), as well as D. Jaillard’s study (p.2)
(Configurations d’Hermès. Une ‘théogonie hermaïque,’ 2007), Chapter 4 in H.
Versnel’s Coping with the Gods (2011), and Jenny Strauss Clay’s chapter on the
Homeric Hymn to Hermes in Politics of Olympus: Gods and Men in the Major
Homeric Hymns (1989)—has focused attention on this many-faceted figure.
Older studies on disparate aspects of the god include N. O. Brown, Hermes the
Thief (1947), L. Kahn’s structuralist interpretation (Hermès passe, 1978), P.
Zanker (1965) on iconography, and B. Combet Farnoux, Mercure romain (1980),
as well as individual articles on specific manifestations of the god—e.g. as an
avatar of Augustus (P. A. Miller 1991). But up to now there has been no attempt
to discuss in a coherent manner the surprising variety of his literary, cultic, and
artistic manifestations. Our volume is a beginning and, in bringing together
scholars with varied approaches from different disciplines, it will, we hope, offer
a model for future investigations.
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Introduction
The Homeric Hymn begins from Hermes’ birth in a shadowy cave on remote
Cyllene, fruit of Zeus’ secret affair with the nymph Maia (13–16):
Mention of the god’s parentage here is more than the usual opening hymnic
gambit, for Maia and Zeus are the chief characters in the featured story, along
with Hermes’ older brother Apollo. This narrative is very much a family affair.
The infant divinity’s ultimate goal is, from his lowly beginning in that Arcadian
cave, to reclaim his patrimony and to be acknowledged as a child of Zeus,
worthy of joining the august company of the gods on Olympus and acquiring the
prerogatives appropriate to his status. His mother figures importantly in an
intimate scene where she upbraids the truant for his nocturnal mischief and he
in turn responds by boldly announcing that his behavior aims to improve (p.3)
conditions for them both. Foremost among the precocious deity’s “famous
deeds” on the day of his birth is the theft of Apollo’s cattle, which precipitates
the Hymn’s crisis, only finally resolved by Zeus, as both the ruling arbiter of
Olympus and the boys’ father. He orders his two “beautiful children” (397) to
settle their dispute, and in the end, once the two are reconciled, “lord Apollo
showed his love for the son of Maia with every sort of affection, and the son of
Kronos added his favor.”
The papers in Part I reflect and expand upon these familial relationships. The
Hymn’s sympathetic portrayal of Maia—otherwise an obscure figure in ancient
literature and art—forms the background for H. A. Shapiro’s reading of Hermes’
mother on ancient vases, where the company of Hermes helps to identify her. He
pours a libation in her presence, no doubt as a preliminary to leaving home, and
his beardless condition marks him out as young. The animals in such scenes,
recalling the sphere of influence granted to Hermes at the end of the Hymn
(569–71), Shapiro suggests may derive from an association with Maia as
resident of rustic Arcadia. Elsewhere Apollo plays the cithara for his brother
Hermes while the woman holding his signature kerykeion must be his mother.
Hermes’ stately demeanor in escorting his mother to the wedding of Peleus and
Thetis on the François Vase is sharply at variance with the mischievous child of
the Homeric Hymn, as is the presence of Maia at such a high-profile event
among the major divinities—in the Hymn she shuns the company of the blessed
gods, staying in the dark cave where she and Zeus made love (5–7).
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Introduction
The Hymn’s central conflict, arising from Hermes’ theft of Apollo’s cattle,
Jennifer Larson insightfully maps onto the myth of Heracles attempting to wrest
away Apollo’s tripod. These two younger sons of Zeus only gradually gain
acknowledgement as Olympian divinities, after each challenges his older sibling
Apollo by trying to steal from him, and their confrontation is eventually mediated
by Zeus. In both cases the younger brother must restore the stolen property,
reconcile with his fraternal adversary, and continue in a subordinate rank to
Apollo. Larson concludes that this remarkable nexus of similarities (among other
things) suggests that the composer of the Hymn to Hermes was reacting to the
myth of Heracles and Apollo’s tripod.
(p.4) Hermes’ role as a trickster figure at the heart of the Homeric Hymn is
well represented in the two papers in Part II. The god’s polytropic nature, his
thievish character and interest in profit, seductive rhetoric, and inventiveness
are already on display in Homer. Likewise, his philanthropic side as well as his
all too human concern with eating and other bodily functions find a place in his
Homeric appearances. Jenny Strauss Clay first analyzes Hermes’ role in the
Iliad, especially Priam’s encounter with the god in Book 24. Like a psychopomp,
he escorts the old king through the Trojan no-man’s-land to Achilles’
encampment, thus demonstrating his ability to cross boundaries and penetrate
forbidden territory, as he does in his Hymn, as well as his inclination for
nocturnal adventures. But the bulk of her paper explores the affinities between
Hermes and Odysseus in the Odyssey; both the god and the hero share the
epithet polytropos, and Odysseus resembles his patron in his craftiness, whether
in making his raft or tricking the Cyclops, as well as in his deceptive speech that
charms his listeners. The interest Hermes shows for meat in the Hymn finds a
correspondence in Odysseus’ devotion to his belly; both of them, moreover, are
bent on profit. And if the hymnic Hermes manages to smuggle his way into
Olympus, his avatar Odysseus smuggles his way into the affections of the
Phaeacians and achieves his more terrestrial nostos.
The contribution by Andrea Capra and Cecilia Nobili also exploits the Homeric
Hymn to document an archaeology of iambus and Hermes as its first
practitioner. The various songs Hermes sings in the course of the Hymn and the
Page 4 of 11
Introduction
allusions to their sympotic setting provide archetypes of what will become the
iambic genre with its competitive, provocative, humorous, and sometimes erotic
character. The pleasure and charm of Hermes’ performances correspond to the
desired features of sympotic poetry, as does his playful banter and occasional
scurrilous behavior. The poet Hipponax constructs his iambic persona as an
intimate and almost as an embodiment of Hermes’ traits; the poet’s prayer to the
god with its jocular word play incorporates a Hermetic interest in cloaks and
gain. Combining high and low and sometimes using parodic language, the
iambist seems to imitate Hermes’ own range, which extends from self-serving
theogony to youthful exchanges of insult. When Hipponax is reborn in his
Callimachean guise, he has shed his more obstreperous Hermetic features. As
Capra and Nobili note, the decline of iambus coincides with the eclipse of Old
Comedy.
Their observations lead into the next part (III), which focuses on the role of
Hermes in comedy, where he exhibits many of the features of the iambic Hermes
as well as those that he enacts in the Homeric Hymn. In outlining the varied
manifestations of Hermes in Old Comedy, Simone Beta attests to the continuities
in his presentation on the comic stage, both as a character in the plot and,
intriguingly, in his possible role as a talking statue, the Herms that dotted the
Athenian landscape and were familiar to the audience in the theater (p.5) of
Dionysus. The well-known traits of the god are on display even in some of our
more fragmentary texts: his lowly status among the Olympians, his role as door-
keeper and glutton, god of luck and thievery, of verbal tricks and mediation, as
well as his earthier features on view in his images. Prominent in Aristophanes’
Peace, Hermes plays the doorman of Olympus, easily bribed by the offer of meat,
and hence the crucial mediator between heaven and earth in liberating
imprisoned Peace (Hermes the body-snatcher!) to dwell among mankind. In
Wealth Hermes, who himself is often enough considered a giver of wealth and
prosperity, is literally brought down to earth by the distress of the Olympian
gods and his own hunger when Plutos regains his sight and therefore ceases to
act capriciously. Intriguingly, Beta explores the various possibilities of staging
Herms in comedy, where on occasion they seem to play a comic oracular role,
perhaps to be connected with the god’s relation to the Bee oracle in the Homeric
Hymn.
ways, Hermes/Mercury acts as mediator between the play and its audience and
breaks through the so-called “fourth wall”—as is fully appropriate to the
notorious penetrator of limits and transgressor of boundaries. Moodie
persuasively concludes that we should view Hermes/Mercury on the comic stage
as more than a trickster figure; through his affinity for metatheatrical plays and
ploys, he may be taken as an embodiment of the comic genre.
The next two papers (Part IV) explore the erotic side of Hermes/Mercury and
come to some unexpected conclusions. In light of the ubiquity of ithyphallic
herms in the ancient world, it might be surprising, as Joseph Farrell points out in
his contribution “Hermes in Love,” how relatively rarely the literary evidence
deals with the god’s erotic escapades. To be sure, the Homeric Hymn alludes to
his invention of the lyre as the daitos hetaira, the (female) companion of the
feast, who both adorned and performed a variety of services at the symposium;
the double entendre is further elaborated when Hermes gives his older brother a
music lesson, instructing Apollo in the importance of a gentle caress rather than
a rough touch that will make the instrument screech. But in general the god is
less successful in love than the other Olympians. More often than not, he plays
the pimp or go-between, facilitating (p.6) their affairs, rather than promoting
his own. Similarly, the Hesiodic Hermes endows Pandora with his own
characteristic traits—deceptive speech, a penchant for theft, hunger, and greed
—although he himself infrequently plays the successful seducer. Food and gain
seem to drive his desires rather than sex. Farrell catalogues his erotic
adventures from Homer to Martianus Capellus, and traces his evolution from
infant trickster to mainly benign intermediary, especially in relations between
the sexes, to his final transmogrification as the god of Reason and Learning.
Micah Young Myers’ paper, “Lascivius Puer: Cupid, Hermes, and Hymns in
Ovid’s Metamorphoses,” forms a perfect complement to Farrell’s survey by first
examining Ovid’s use of the hymnic tradition in the Homeric Hymns and
elsewhere and then zeroing in on Ovid’s intertextual exploitation of the Homeric
Hymn to Hermes as well as Alcaeus’ fragmentary Hymn to the same god, as
Horace already had in Odes 1.10. Myers explores the assimilation of Mercury to
his Cupid in the Daphne episode of Metamorphoses 1, showing how both
divinities as naughty children compete with their more august older brother, and
how Cupid’s appropriation of Apollo’s bow resonates with the traditional hymnic
motif of Hermes’ theft. In Amores 1.1 and Fasti 5, a mercurial Cupid and a
cupidinous Mercury further reveal Ovid’s syncretism, which has some
counterparts in the iconographic tradition and which, inevitably, in the Augustan
period, has political resonances.
The most vivid expression of that political dimension is seen in Horace’s Odes
1.2, when the poet images Octavian the future Augustus as incarnation of
Mercury, on whom he calls to rescue the fractured Roman world. Elsewhere,
however, as S. J. Harrison shows in detail, Horace presents Mercury chiefly as a
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Introduction
Page 7 of 11
Introduction
The papers in Part VI deal with Mercury’s affiliations with commerce. Duncan E.
MacRae offers a fresh reading of the images of Mercury found at the shops of
Pompeii. Not the focus of cult activity, these depictions were part of the lived
religion of the city. The images draw on classical and Hellenistic modes of
representing the god but are squarely oriented toward the Roman divinity’s
relation to commerce—in fact, they materialize him as such. Mercury appears on
the façades of Pompeii’s commercial properties more frequently than any other
deity. His presence there, as well as sometimes at the counter inside—and
depicted in motion—mirrors the action of the shopper visiting the taberna, and
so links the human experience of shopping with the god of business. In his
phallic form, Mercury also protects the shop.
Our Part VII focuses on some aspects of Hermes in relation to religion and cult.
No discussion of Hermes can avoid the question of the meaning of the ubiquitous
herms that dotted the Greek landscape. In her contribution, “Communicating
with the Divine: Herms in Attic Vase Painting,” Hélène Collard approaches her
subject via vase painting and notes the high frequency of depictions of herms
and their many occurrences with human subjects, often in the context of ritual
scenes such as sacrifice. On this basis, she argues that the large number of
herms on Attic vase painting does not reflect the popularity of cult of Hermes,
but rather symbolizes the god’s role as intermediary and messenger, not only
between the gods and human beings, but also as the divinity that conveys and
communicates the prayers and desires of mortals to the gods. Collard’s
discussion brings out the pervasive importance of this mediating aspect of the
god not only in literature, but also in visual media.
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Introduction
In the Odyssey, Hermes flies off to Calypso’s island to convey Zeus’ orders; he
also shows up on Circe’s island to provide protective magic against the nymph’s
wiles. Sandra Blakeley argues that Hermes, the god from Cyllene in landlocked
Arcadia, has an unexpected connection with another island, Samothrace, and
with its mysteries that promised protection for sailors. Untangling a complex
knot of cultic, archaeological, and literary evidence, Blakely links the Cyllenian
god to other local ithyphallic divinities of the north-eastern Aegean, including
Priapus, whose cults focused on ensuring safety at sea. Thus the god who is
traditionally identified with exchange and the protection of travelers becomes a
guardian of maritime commerce and promises his devotees safe passage.
Two contributions (Part VIII) deal with papyrus materials from Egypt, involving
hymns associated with Hermes, and once again attest to his multiple facets. In
both cases, the authors question conventional wisdom. Ljuba (p.9) Merlina
Bortolani’s “The Greek Magical Hymn to Hermes: Syncretism or Disguise? The
Hellenization of Thoth in Graeco-Egyptian Magical Literature” examines a
hexametrical hymn from the collection of Greek magical papyri of which several
versions are preserved. The invocation, with its lengthy list of the god’s
attributes, has been related to Gnostic or Hermetic religio-philosophic circles in
late Roman Egypt. But Bortolani’s analysis reveals instead that the hymn reflects
the syncretism characteristic of an earlier period in which features of the
Egyptian Thoth and the Greek Hermes were combined to assimilate traditional
Egyptian religious lore to a Hellenized population.
In our two final contributions (Part IX), the infant trickster god who was born in
a remote cave, who at first is even unsure of his divine status, and who must
finagle his way to Olympus, reveals unexpected cosmic dimensions. First, Nicola
Reggiani in “Rethinking Hermes” argues that over-emphasis on Hermes’ role as
Page 9 of 11
Introduction
herder and fertility god has overshadowed the centrality of his function as
distributor of shares (moirai) and hence his involvement with Fate (Moira) and
prophecy that he seeks to acquire from Apollo. These also relate to the god’s
mediating and communicating prerogatives as facilitator and suppressor of
speech, as symbolized by his scepter. These factors contribute, according to
Reggiani, to the god’s engagement with both human and cosmic justice.
(p.10) Tracking Hermes from the naughty babe in his cradle to awesome
kosmokrator, from shadowy Cyllene to Hellenized Egypt and Augustan Rome,
requires us to follow a zig-zag path, tracing continuities that cross generic and
temporal boundaries, but also to encounter detours and byways and the
transformations of our wayward god who easily adjusts to new settings and
easily morphs into Mercury and Thoth. The contributions in the present volume
by no means exhaust his enigmatic yet captivating tracks, but we hope we have
erected signposts for further pursuits.
Bibliography
Bibliography references:
Miller, P. A. 1991. “Horace, Mercury, and Augustus, or the Poetic Ego of Odes 1–
3.” AJP 112: 365–88.
Page 10 of 11
Introduction
Strauss Clay, J. 1989. The Politics of Olympus: Gods and Men in the Major
Homeric Hymns. Princeton. 2nd ed. Bristol 2016.
Versnel, H. 2011. Coping with the Gods: Wayward Readings in Greek Theology.
Leiden.
Page 11 of 11
Like Mother, Like Son?
H. Alan Shapiro
DOI:10.1093/oso/9780198777342.003.0002
Page 1 of 18
Like Mother, Like Son?
features that suggest the potter was inspired by vessels in precious metals,
silver or bronze.3
Page 2 of 18
Like Mother, Like Son?
Can the Homeric Hymn to Hermes, whose unknown date cannot be too far from
that of these two vases,8 help us better understand the unique scene on the
hydria in the Petit Palais? There is no narrative here, such as Hermes’ theft of
Apollo’s cattle (which, as we shall see, did interest the vase-painters), but I think
there are hints. Hermes’ unusual beardlessness is surely meant to underline his
role as young son, or Maiados, as the Hymn several times expresses it (1, 73, et
al.). His outfit would have conveyed to the viewer that this mother and son,
though divine, could be models for any aristocratic Athenian family. And the
relationship of Maia and Hermes in the Hymn is remarkably “human”—that is,
they talk to each other in a manner that would be easily recognizable in many
contemporary families. I am thinking in particular of the scene in which Maia
first reproaches her son for sneaking home late at night and he then teases her
about staying cooped up in a dark cave when she could be partying with the
other gods on Mt. Olympos, as the gregarious Hermes likes to do (155–72; cf. 5–
6). Or the fact that Hermes’ first performance on the newly invented lyre takes
the form of a sly hymn in praise of the clandestine affair of his mother and father
(52–62). Since the pouring of a libation from a phiale often marks a departure
from home,9 we might imagine that Hermes is taking leave of his mother for that
very reason, to return to Olympos and resume the messenger duties implied in
the kerykeion. The wreath in Maia’s hand could be a parting gift, even
something she made herself.10
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Like Mother, Like Son?
side. The dog is a hint at the bond that will develop between Chiron and Achilles,
as the future hero is initiated into the art of hunting. Chiron, like Maia, is a
denizen of a mountain cave.
The notion that Hermes derived his mastery over wild animals from his mother
leads me to a new interpretation of an enigmatic vase in the collection at Yale
University (Figs. 2.4–5).16 On this black-figure lekythos of about 500, (p.18)
Apollo drives a chariot drawn by no fewer than four different beasts: lion,
panther, boar, and perhaps a wolf. Scholars have tried to connect the scene with
the myths of heroes, Admetos or Kadmos, who were said to have yoked strange
combinations of beasts to a chariot.17 But the characters here seem to (p.19)
be all divinities: Apollo and his sister Artemis, Hermes, and, at the right, a
female who has sometimes been called Leto, to complete the “Delian Triad” with
her twin offspring. But I am struck by this goddess’s gestures, gently (p.20)
reaching out to the wild beasts with one hand, as if to calm them and bring them
to order, and signaling to Hermes and Apollo with the other, outstretched hand.
Could she be Maia, who magically soothes the beasts at the behest of her son, so
that his brother Apollo may show his own prowess in driving such a bizarre
variation on the usual quadriga?
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The labeled Maia on the Petit Fig. 2.4. Athenian black-figure lekythos.
Palais hydria with which we Chariot of Apollo, with Hermes. c.500
started (Fig. 2.1) is one of only BCE. Yale University Art Gallery
two certain depictions in Attic 1913.111.
art—we shall come (p.21) to Photo: Museum, courtesy of Susan B.
the other presently—and the Matheson.
small corpus I have just
presented comprises most of
the “probables.” There are a
few more, where the presence
of animals is not a clue, but the
context suggests we may be
dealing with Hermes and his
mother. A black-figure hydria in
Berlin depicts Apollo playing his
kithara for Hermes and a
woman who I believe is Maia.18
Apollo’s entourage of Muses, as
well as Dionysos, accompanies
them. Not by accident, the
shoulder of the vase includes
Hermes observing Herakles
wrestle the Nemean Lion. A
contemporary neck-amphora at
the Hearst Castle in San
Simeon is once again focused
on Apollo Kitharoidos, here
accompanied by a bull (Fig.
2.6).19 He is framed by pairs of
male and female divinities—the
males are clearly Dionysos and
Hermes, but who are the
females? I would like to think Fig. 2.5. View of the lekythos in Fig. 2.4:
that each god is with his Maia (?).
mother. Dionysos’ mother Photo: Museum, courtesy of Susan B.
Semele was, of course, Matheson.
incinerated before the god’s
birth. But she later became a
goddess on Olympos with the
new name Thyone.20 Unusually, here, Maia holds her son’s kerykeion.
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This cluster of images may shed some light on what may be the only attestation
of the worship of Maia in Attika. The well-known fourth-century inscription
commonly referred to as the Salaminoi decree contains long lists of cults for
which the genos of the Salaminioi was responsible.25 At Porthmos, near Sounion,
are mentioned sacrifices to Herakles and members of his family: Iolaos, his
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Like Mother, Like Son?
nephew and frequent sidekick, and his mother Alkmene (lines 84–6). In the midst
of these is listed a sacrifice to Maia (line 86). A few scholars, especially Martin
Nilsson, have been puzzled by the inclusion of Hermes’ mother amidst the family
of Herakles and proposed to read maia with lower-case “m,” an unspecified
nurse.26 But the iconography going back to the sixth century suggests that
Hermes (and probably his mother) had an especially close association with
Herakles and his family,27 to which the cluster of sacrifices alludes. Hermes and
Herakles recline together like boon companions,28 and Hermes often serves as
an escort to the hero on his journey to Olympos. We may be reminded of the
famous cup signed by Sosias, on which Hermes Kriophoros, along with Athena
and a goddess who may be Artemis, accompany an especially modest Herakles
as he crosses the threshold of Olympos and greets the divine father he has never
met.29
A most unusual pot attributed to a painter known for his (perhaps inadvertent)
sense of humor is the large amphora by the Nikoxenos Painter in Munich, which
most likely has a unique depiction of Hermes and his mother (Fig. 2.7).30 At first
glance, we might have thought that both sides of the vase comprise one big
Götterversammlung, a popular motif in this period toward the very end of the
sixth century, as for example on the Sosias cup just mentioned.31 But then we
notice that Hermes appears on both sides of the amphora, which is not a slip the
painters are apt to make, so a different reading (p.23) is needed. I believe the
one side shows an abbreviated Götterversammlung: Zeus and Hera attended by
Iris; Athena and Poseidon; and Hermes just arriving with a jaunty wave of the
hand. Of even greater interest is the juxtaposition at the far left of the other side
of the vase: Hermes holding the syrinx, his own invention, together with a
goddess who must be his mother (Fig. 2.7). A majestic Apollo kitharoidos in the
middle of the scene underlines the contrast between the rustic instrument of the
one, Hermes, and the noble instrument of his elder brother. Dionysos and a
maenad holding krotala (another humble instrument) fill out the scene, further
evidence that the setting is on earth, not Olympos. Hermes is without his
kerykeion here, but by the time he has arrived on Olympos, on the other side of
the vase, he has retrieved it, and also wears a proper winged traveling cap,
instead of the absurdly small petasos that makes him look like a bit of a mama’s
boy.32
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the tradition that Maia shunned the company of the other gods out of shame that
she was carrying on an illicit affair with Zeus, who would make regular secret
visits to her cave (Hymn to Hermes 6–7). The pairing of mother and son might
seem like an obvious one, since neither of them has a steady partner like most of
the pairs in the other cars: Zeus and Hera, Poseidon and Amphitrite, Doris and
Nereus, or even that other illicit couple, Aphrodite and Ares.37 We might (p.25)
even think that Hermes has coaxed his mother from her cave for this special
occasion, the most glittering wedding in antiquity.38
Okeanos with his consort Tethys.43 Perhaps Kleitias also had in mind that Maia
and Hermes, whose chariot is immediately ahead of this pair, are descendants of
Okeanos, since Pleione, the mother of Maia and the other Pleiades, was a
daughter of Ocean.44
Hermes and Maia are singled out in yet another way as important figures on the
François Vase (Fig. 2.8): their chariot is accompanied by the Moirai (Fates), a
direct reference to the coming birth of Achilles and the fateful saga of Troy.45 As
is well known, Achilles the warrior appears several times elsewhere on the
François Vase—presiding over the funeral games of Patroklos; ambushing the
hapless Troilos; and twice as a corpse, rescued from the fray by Ajax, the most
explicit references to his moira.46 The Moirai are here, surprisingly, four in
number, and there is nothing in their dress or appearance to characterize them
as individuals or explain the presence of a fourth.47 Perhaps, as Erika Simon has
(p.27) suggested, the fourth is actually their mother Themis, as we learn from
Hesiod.48 Themis had been given a place of honor by Sophilos, near the head of
the procession,49 and she should not be absent from the François Vase, even if
Kleitias failed to inscribe her name.
That the juxtaposition of Hermes and his mother with the Moirai is not
accidental is confirmed by another, much smaller vase attributed to Kleitias, a
deep cup or skyphos that survives now only in a few fragments but was once a
handsome dedication to Athena on the Akropolis.50 The subject was most likely
the Birth of Athena—she can be seen on one of the fragments emerging from the
(no longer preserved) head of Zeus. Alongside what must have been the central
group depicting the birth stands Hermes, followed by the Moirai. This may be
the earliest surviving depiction of the Birth of Athena,51 but the Moirai will not
become a regular element in the scene. It seems that Kleitias had a special
interest in them. Hermes, on the other hand, will become a regular presence at
the birth.52 As noted earlier, one of the other earliest depictions of Athena’s birth
from the head of Zeus is on the well-known Tyrrhenian amphora that bears the
unique inscription ΗΕΡΜΕΣ ΕΙΜΙ ΚΥΛΛΕΝΙΟΣ: “I am Hermes of Kyllene,” the
mountain of his origin in Arkadia.53
Before leaving the Kleitias fragments from the Akropolis, we may note an
interesting detail. A fragment from the other side of the cup,54 with a row of
youths and women holding hands, can be understood with reference to the
better preserved frieze on the François Vase showing (as I believe) the arrival of
Theseus and the Athenian youths and maidens on Crete.55 In other words,
Kleitias must have depicted this rare story more than once. The link between
Athena, on one side of the cup, and the heroic deed of her Athenian protégé par
excellence, on the other, would have been apparent to the ancient viewer and
certainly to the dedicator of the vase on the Akropolis. Hermes, who will spread
the word of these two great events, and the Moirai, who place them in a cosmic
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In conclusion, we have seen that the Hymn to Hermes transforms a goddess who
had been not much more than a mere name in the epic tradition of genealogical
poetry (Theogony 938; Ehoiai fr. 118 M-W) into a vivid and (p.28) highly
sympathetic maternal figure. Indeed, the relationship of mother and son is
portrayed with a psychological insight that is only slightly less compelling than
the mother–daughter relationship at the core of the Homeric Hymn to Demeter.
While it cannot be said that Greek artists ever rendered Maia with the nuance
and vibrancy of the poet of the Hymn, they did rescue her from obscurity in
Hesiod and complete absence from Homer. And they did so starting roughly a
half-century before the composition of the Hymn to Hermes. Thanks to the
genius of Kleitias, Maia assumes her rightful place in the company of the
Olympian gods, escorted by her son (Fig. 2.8). Hermes is an especially dignified
figure. He has changed out of his “work clothes,” a short garment that facilitates
running and flying, into a sumptuously embroidered long cloak. To be sure, their
chariot is toward the back of the procession, at a discreet distance from Zeus,
Maia’s secret lover, and his vengeful wife. If, as seems likely, Apollo and Leto are
in a now badly damaged chariot,57 then we have two instances of mother and
son sharing a car. Just as Apollo’s filial piety is expressed in several stories
(Tityos, the Niobids), so too Hermes is presented here as the model son. The
mischievous trickster and incorrigible truant may be the invention of a later age
and of a poet of exceptional wit and grace.
Bibliography
Bibliography references:
Bell, E. E. 1977. “The Attic Black-figured Vases at the Hearst Monument, San
Simeon.” Diss. Berkeley.
Cavaliere, B. and J. Udell. 2012. Ancient Mediterranean Art. The William D. and
Jane Walsh Collection at Fordham University. New York.
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Cohen, B. 2006. The Colors of Clay, Exh. cat. J. Paul Getty Museum. Malibu.
Graef, B. and E. Langlotz. 1925–33. Die antiken Vasen von der Akropolis zu
Athen. Berlin.
Hedreen, G. 2011. “Bild, Mythos, and Ritual: Choral Dance in Theseus’ Cretan
Adventure on the François Vase.” Hesperia 80: 491–510.
Hedreen, G. 2016. The Image of the Artist in Archaic and Classical Greece.
Cambridge.
Hirayama, T. 2010. Kleitias and Attic Black-figure Vases in the Sixth Century B.C.
Tokyo.
Iozzo, M. 2009. “Un nuovo dinos da Chiusi con le nozze di Peleus e Thetis.” In E.
M. Moormann and V. Stissi, eds. Shapes and Images. Studies on Attic Black
Figure and Related Topics in Honour of Herman A. G. Brijder. Leuven. 63–85.
Kreutzer, B. 2013. “Myth as Case Study and the Hero as Exemplum.” In Shapiro,
Iozzo, Lezzi-Hafter 2013. 105–17.
Page 13 of 18
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Heikki punasteli serkun tunnustuksesta. Oliko hänellä sitten niin
pitkät sääret.
3.
— On kyllä.
Heikki mietti itsekseen, että kylläpä tässä nyt työ riittää. Muuhun ei
taida aikaa riittääkään. Setä oli kovin ankara. Eiväthän he tänne
pelkiksi työmiehiksi tulleetkaan.
Heikki nauroi.
Päivä kului illoilleen. Se oli kaunis päivä pojille. Talossa löytyi aina
jotain uutta ja ihmeteltävää. Ja huomispäivä toisi taas varmaankin
uusia ihmeellisyyksiä.
4.
— Senkin koikalesääri…
— Anteeksi, neiti.
Sitten mentiin verkon nostoon. Paavo mietti, että olipa hyvä, ettei
Heikki ehtinyt tulla heidän sisarliittoaan sotkemaan. Hänellä oli nyt
sisko ja se oli niin… niin…
5.
— Tahtoisimme tietysti.
— Sen minäkin uskon. Mutta jos annamme erään voiman
nuoressa ruumiissamme viedä meidät harhaan, niin meille käy
samoin kuin tuolle kuihtuneelle kukkaselle. Sen voiman, joka on
tarkoitettu meille elämän voimaksi, voimme juoksuttaa pisara
pisaralta pois, ja mitä jää silloin meille? Kuihtunut ruumis ja sairas
sielu. Tahdottehan, rakkaat pojat, pysyä horjumatta silloin, kun
kiusaaja teitä koettaa houkuttaa huonoon tekoon omaa ruumistanne
kohtaan?
— Tahdomme varmasti.
6.
Laila nauroi.
Se koski niin kovin Paavoon, että hänen piti jäädä metsään. Puun
juurella hän istui ja nyyhkytti. Toiset menivät jo kaukana.
Laila nauroi.