In this third installment of my essay, I consider the Iliad in context of the historical data discussed on Part 2, including the reliability oral transmission, survival of Greek culture and oral tradition through the “dark age” after the Bronze Age collapse, Anatolian contributions to the Trojan War story which would have been written, and possible correspondences between Greek myth and legend and the historical data. I also raise the intriguing possibility of the “missing man” of the Trojan War.
References are indicated by brackets [1] but not linked (due to the current limitations of Substack when importing from MS Word files). Explanatory footnotes are linked. All works cited are listed at the end of the final installment.
Acknowledgements: I am indebted to Prof. Eric Luttrell inspiring the title of my essay and my approach, generally, and to Dr. Cynthia Gralla for her encouragement, invaluable feedback and editorial assistance.
Keywords: the Trojan War, the Iliad, the Homeric poems, the Cyclic poems, Homer, the Age of Heroes, Late Bronze Age conflicts in Anatolia, Mycenaean activities in Anatolia.
Part 3: The Iliad in Context
I began this section with Eric Luttrell’s cogent observation that the history and evolution of the Iliad are “inevitably protean” and this is certainly true. Now, as I set out to engage in my third match with the Old Man of the Sea, two comments are in order. First, my essay cannot do any real justice to the question of the Iliad’s history. This debate has gone on since ancient times, and I doubt it will admit a solution in the foreseeable future. That does not mean I do not have my own thoughts on how the epic came into being; I do and will offer some, but a satisfactory exploration and defense cannot be attempted here, nor can competing theories be adequately addressed. Therefore, I will take what I would call a top-level view, focusing on the forest, as it were, not the trees, and such thoughts as I can offer will be of a more cursory nature – starting points for a discussion, rather than conclusions to be defended.
Next, what is meant by “protean”? What I take it to mean is that stories have many founts and inevitably morph as they combine and evolve. By this I mean more than the “composition in performance” of the Oralist school, although that is a factor, but that to maintain its relevance, a story must change with time and space to suit the new contexts in which the story is interpreted. Relevance is not to be confused with popularity; popular works may have a meteor-like existence – burning brightly for a moment and then gone – and most do. The rarest of stories are timeless; they speak on such a deep level their relevance does not fade. These stories are created by an exceptional kind of genius and the Iliad is one such.
But whether the Iliad sprang forth like Athena from the poet’s brow (after decades worth of headache, no doubt) or not, is not the issue here. The protean aspect applies to what the epic was before it became fixed, however that happened – while it was still morphing in the collective minds and mouths of those who recited it and those who heard it. I perceive two main branches, one represented by the Iliad and the other represented by the Cyclic poems, and that is what I seek to address. I will start with the Iliad and some general observations.
First, the issue of transmission. Oral tradition and its ability to maintain the fidelity of information is a much debated topic. It is often said that the Iliad is not history and Homer was not a historian. Both statements are true in a sense, but they are also beside the point. The real question is: what history did he know or otherwise have access to?
As mention previously, Mycenaean civilization had history and retained it, just as other civilizations in the Bronze Age Near East did, but they sang it rather than writing it down or inscribing it on monuments or walls as the other civilizations did. They were certainly aware of the practice, however, and they used writing to conduct their international affairs, but apparently not in their script. Instead, they used the writing technology of their correspondents, much as they adopted Linear B from the Minoans for bookkeeping and administrative purposes. They must have felt oral poetry, their means of preserving history, was just as adequate as their neighbors’ methods, and consciously rejected the alternative. Were they right?
Modern studies cast doubt on it. Much excellent field work has been done on living oral traditions and much anthropological data has been gathered which cast light on the mechanics of oral tradition. However, there is a problem in applying it to Bronze Age Greece: the cultures and societies studied are not Mycenaean. Societies that maintained their oral traditions into the last century are generally insular, especially if they were preliterate. The Mycenaeans were anything but insular. They lived and thrived in a globalized “world” where an impeccably made up Egyptian aristocrat could have her palace painted with Minoan frescos depicting Indian monkeys and gryphons from the steppes of central Asia while wearing linen apparel made in Pylos, scented with expensive perfume also from there or Mycenae or Knossos, and cutting her meat with a bronze knife made with tin from Afghanistan while being entertained by a singer whose material had links to Anatolia and Mesopotamia; perhaps this performer would actually be from one of those places.
I cite the Egyptian example because those frescos exist, but a king or queen, princess or prince from Mycenae, Thebes or Pylos would have much the same experience. Mycenaean Greece was not a barbaric backwater. Linear B records reveal an efficient and sophisticated administrative system concerned with accuracy, specificity and accountability. They were not a sloppy people and I think it would be dangerous to believe they were sloppy about their history.
Next is the question of continuity. It now appears there was no disruption of Greek oral tradition between the end of the Bronze Age and the Greek renaissance, nor should we expect one. The loss of Linear B was immaterial to this tradition because Linear B was not the means by which it was maintained. So Greek culture and oral tradition survived the collapse and carried on into Homer’s day. Latacz presents a detailed defense of the fidelity of hexameter poetry for recording history, and while it has not convinced everyone, and may run beyond his data in places, it seems overall more reliable than applying the example of Serbo-Croatian singers, or those of some of the other societies, to Mycenaean Greece.
Another concern is the idea of historical time. In pre-literate societies without calendars, the notion of historical time may be roughly like the “past,” the “far past,” and “time immemorial.” Ethnological studies of modern societies without writing have concluded that oral tradition in these societies reaches back no further than three generations or so.[1] This work has influenced the scholarly analysis of Greek poets composing in the 8th century: how could they retain any notion of history from the Bronze Age, it being well beyond three generations in the past? At best, they may have preserved misty “folk memories” of a bygone age, but no history, as such.
This thinking is why we not uncommonly read that the “dark age” Greeks had no concept of chronological history. This is a sticky phrase and ancient chronology is a difficult topic. Even so, we are able to assign reasonable dates to historical events based on ancient sources. For the end of the Trojan war, these ancient sources yield the following dates:
1334 – Douris
1291 – Eretes
1250 – Herodotus, says “around”
1212 – Dicaearchus
1209–1208 – The Parian marble
1193 – Timaeus
1184–1183 – Eratosthenes
1172 – Sosibius
1149 – Ephorus.1
None of these dates are absurd; Eretes is close to the 1300 earthquake event and matches the years I favor for the last episode of the Trojan War; Dicaearchus, the Parian marble, Timaeus and Eratosthenes fall within the assessed date range of the 1210–1180 destruction event, which does look like a sack.
How did the ancients come by this information (that is, the information that allows us to extract these dates)? Clearly, information was transmitted to these ancient authors, some of whom are a millennium or so after the events they cite. How does this square with the idea that the “dark age” Greeks had lost contact with the Bronze Age and had no concept of historical chronology? The issue suggests that our understanding of the sophistication of the ancient Greeks’ historical methods is faulty.
There is a final factor to consider: the Trojan War story was not an exclusively Greek possession. It was shared with Anatolian tradition and this tradition has left its mark all over the epic (as did traditions from other cultures).2 The importance here is that these traditions were written. Literacy was not lost in western Anatolia. While Hittite cuneiform died out when it no longer was needed, just as Linear B did, Luwian hieroglyphic remained in use in western Anatolia until Homer’s day and, in some form, for centuries after. Homer, native to western Anatolia, could have had access to such records, as could his Ionian and Aeolian Greek predecessors. Western Anatolia could therefore represent a repository of written Bronze Age historical data available to later poets.
That such records existed is not in doubt. In the 1980s, a fragment of poetry was dubbed a possible Wilusiad (a Trojan version of the Trojan War epic). That has been questioned, but to showed a Wilusiad was possible, whether or not the fragment was part of one.3
This fragment aside, I believe there is no reason to think there was not a Wilusiad, but regardless, the “Indictment of Madduwatta,” the Alaksandu Treaty and similar documents should not be taken as obscure footnotes in the Hittite diplomatic archives. They record events that were well known and would have been remembered in western Anatolia. So Wilusiad or no Wilusiad, material about western Anatolian conflicts would have been preserved. Such information could include lists of names, places and rosters. That is not to say these would be reflected in the stories intact, but they could have provided significant elements that were included.
The proof of the pudding is, of course, in the epic itself. How well does the Iliad reflect the age I suggest the Trojan War took place in? The record is mixed, and here it is crucial to separate the Iliad from the Odyssey, which was written much later in a different place for a different audience. This strict separation has not always been observed and has led to confusion.
Returning to the Iliad, the mixed record is no surprise. Authors today, even those who strive for strict adherence to the period of their subject, make allowances for their audience. Otherwise few, if any, would appreciate their work. Homer did the same. Therefore, he could have known more of the relevant history than he included. The anachronisms in the Iliad are of interest in attempting to date the composition of the poem and like matters, but these are separate from my purpose. My purpose is what the Iliad may reflect of Bronze Age history, and it seems to reflect a good deal. This topic has been extensively covered elsewhere and I shall not repeat those discussions. I will, however, present a table of a few correspondences; all are conjectural and some perhaps dubious, but collectively, they warrant some attention.
Possible Historical and Greek Myth/Legend Correspondences
Historical Evidence => Possibly Associated Myth or Legend
[…]appaliuna, one of Troy’s chief deities; listed as a divine “witness” to the Alaksandu Treaty. => Apollo, Troy’s principle defender in the Iliad. He is likely of Anatolian origin and has been linked to the Troad.
Kagamunas, a king of Thebes who contracted a marriage with the king of Aššuwa in the 1430s. => Kadmos (Cadmus), legendary founder of Thebes; perhaps a traditional name for kings of Thebes.
The Aššuwan coalition. => The roster of Troy’s allies.
The inferred Ahhiyawan confederation. => The Oath of Tyndareus.
Attarissiyas, Greek king who campaigned in western Anatolia; possibly “Atreus” or a member of that family. => Atreus, father of Agamemnon and Menelaus.
Attarissiyas conducting economic warfare. => Greeks targeting livestock as part of a “dirty war.”
Zidanza, Hittite officer and unnamed Greek officer, only casualties mentioned in a battle between Attarissiyas and the Hittite general, Kisnapili. Possible inconclusive duel? => Inconclusive duel between Hector and Ajax, whose armor fits the period of the battle between Attarissiyas and Kisnapili.
Kukkunnis, king of Troy; predecessor of Alaksandu. => Kyknos (Cycnus), Trojan champion killed by Achilles.
Muwattalli II. => Motylos, a king who entertains Helen and Paris.
Alaksandu, king of Troy. => Alexander/Paris, prince of Troy.
Piyamaradu captures Lazpa (Lesbos) and defeats Manapa-Tarhunta, vassal king of the Seha River Land, placing Atpā over him while hostilities are ongoing at Troy. => Achilles captures Lesbos and attacks Teuthrania, Pedasus, Lyrnessus and Thebes-under-Plakos, all in the territory of the Seha River Land.
Tawagalawa, possible king of Thebes. => Eteocles, brother of Polynices, kings of Thebes.
The name […]appaliuna refers a god who appears in the list of Troy’s divine “witnesses” to the Alaksandu Treaty. In 2006, Bryce noted that some scholars were doubtful about identifying it with Apollo, but now the connection seems to be fairly well accepted.[2]
The identification of Kagamunas with Kadmos seems plausible and gives a nice tie to the literary record, but has been the subject of ongoing debate.
A possible connection between Aššuwa and the roster of Trojan allies has long been noted and also questioned. Bryce largely dismissed it, but as an inspiration, the idea remains viable.4
Attarissiyas’ connection with Atrius has been discussed; however, Strauss notes that during the war with Madduwatta, he targeted livestock and later raided Cyprus. This is characteristic of the economic warfare the Trojan War legend describes the Greeks carrying out against Troy.5
Skipping down, Alaksandu is the one securely attested historical figure in the story. The identification of Tawagalawa with Eteocles seems noncontroversial, although whether he was a king or a king’s sibling is unsettled. I follow Woudhuizen’s view that he was most likely a king of Thebes, as the literary tradition holds.
The other entries are more interesting. The Ahhiyawan confederation has been discussed and the organization of the Greek army at Troy fits it neatly. It might explain how the idea of a fleet of “1000 ships” came about and the origin of the Catalog of Ships: perhaps it is a relic of lists accumulated over the course of a long war? The Oath of Tyndareus as a legendary explanation for how confederation came into being is a new wrinkle I raise for the sake of discussion. Recall that the Oath of Tyndareus (Helen’s father) was a scheme proposed by Odysseus to solve the problem of Helen’s many suitors: it bound the suitors to support the man who would be chose as her husband, preventing conflict between those who lost out. Accordingly, when Helen left with Paris, absconding with Menelaus’ treasure, they were obliged to gather their forces and sail to Troy in an attempt to recover Helen and the wealth she and Paris took.
What was the motive for creating the Ahhiyawan confederation? Could it have been that after the failed revolt, it was formed to support a large expedition into Anatolia to recover lost lands and avenge the princess of Thebes who was married to the Aššuwan king and was insulted and dispossessed, and even imprisoned or enslaved, by the failure of the revolt? The data neither support nor disbar such a conjecture, but the potential correspondence is thought-provoking.
A possible inconclusive duel between Zidanza and an unnamed Greek officer is intriguing because of the two inconclusive duels in the Iliad: between Paris and Menelaus, which led to a pitched battle, and Hector and Ajax. The latter is strangely out of place; unlike the first duel, it is fought for no reason and serves no purpose in the narrative. Ajax is shown as being chosen by lot, but the poets picked him and not another of the eligible candidates (who are listed), and he is the prominent Greek warrior who fits the period (Hector is also given a 15th-century shield at one point). Could this suggest a tradition that an inconclusive duel was important in the war, along with details that fit the period of the battle two prominent warriors died in?6
Kukkunnis is an interesting figure.7 He stayed loyal to the Hittite king during the Arzawan war of the 1340s. Did he do more than stay home? Kyknos is clearly a folkloric figure; he has unnaturally white skin that is invulnerable to edged weapons and Achilles kills him with a rock (a common trope). If Kukkunnis participated in the Arzawan war, could his exploits have been melded with a folkloric hero?
As mentioned, Motylos is a king who entertains Helen and Paris on their way to Troy. His link to Muwattalli is diffuse, but if there is anything to it, it has intriguing implications for both Paris and Helen’s marriage (not elopement) and explaining the tradition they went to Egypt.8
To me, the most interesting entry is Piyamaradu. As I discussed, he campaigned in the Seha River Land, defeated Manapa-Tarhunta, and then captured Lesbos while the Greeks are fighting at Troy. Achilles has a nearly identical career in the Trojan War legend. He attacks the islands of Skyros and Tenedos, then Teuthrania and goes on to capture Lesbos and raid twenty-three cities, including Pedasus, Lyrnessus and Thebes-under-Plakos, all within the Seha River Land (as is Teuthrania).9 I observed that Piyamaradu is the primary named hero in the history of west Anatolian conflicts in the 13th century. Is it possible that his exploits became attached to a Greek folk hero who was brought over by Aeolian immigrants from Thessaly? Achilles is an outsider to the Greek cause in the Iliad. He is not subject to the Oath of Tyndareus; his kingdom of Phthia is rather anomalous. Although he is the “best of the Achaeans,” he tends to stand alone, except from Patroclus. He is fated to not achieve what he was brought into the war to do, sack Troy.
Piyamaradu, a Luwian warlord and possibly the grandson of a deposed king, is also an outsider to the Greek cause. He is royal (accepting him as Uhhaziti’s grandson) but lacks a kingdom; dispossessed, he can never go home again but lives out his life on Greek-held islands. Brave and resourceful, he nevertheless does not succeed in his ultimate aim. It is hardly conceivable that he did not leave a lasting impression on the peoples of western Anatolia (he certainly did on the Hittites, who were still talking about him in the 1220s). Yet, there is no hint of a “Piyamaradu” in the epic tradition. Is he the “missing man” of the Trojan War? Is the Iliadic Achilles a Luwian hero in disguise?
I use Piyamaradu to introduce an idea I feel deserves more attention. When considering the origins of the Iliad – more broadly “the legend of the fall of Troy” as it has been called – it is not uncommon for scholars to propose a date near the end of the Bronze Age or the beginning the Iron Age.10 The rationales given are detailed and convincing, but they tend to downplay or overlook the totality of the legend. What is most often described is how the legend may have begun to coalesce into a more unified story, not the origins of the legend itself. Calling it “the legend of the fall of Troy” shows the influence of the Unity – that Troy fell is, again, being taken for granted, and this in turn informs how the legend is thought to have evolved and what themes from the vast fund of literature, which encompassed the entirety of the Near East and Aegean, were incorporated into the narrative.
If there is merit to the idea of a “Bronze Age Hundred Years War,” the roots of the legend would be back in the 15th century. Thereafter, each generation would have added to it, reciting the exploits of their heroes; whatever triumphs they had and defeats they suffered. Queens and princesses would not be neglected; indeed, might be in the forefront. These stories would be episodic and continue until the final conflict of the 1280s.
Thus, we might imagine Ajax was the main hero of the early legends of the 15th century. Diomedes, who plays a large role in the Iliad, could have been a hero from the next generation; he appears to have originated as Aetolian folk hero who became translated into king of Argos.[3] Achilles, a folk hero from Thessaly, was “smuggled” into the legend late and attached primarily to the conflict of the 1280s. Odysseus, a trickster figure from Indo-European myth, was also incorporated at some point, but how this happened is murky. It seems likely he was a legendary figure outside the Trojan War tradition, as was Achilles, although he may have found his way into the narrative before Achilles did. In his initial incarnation, he may not have been primarily a warrior.[4] Agamemnon and Menelaus could be folkloric figures that reflect the presence of Atreus early on; they have the appearance of figures in a “type-story” used in the narrative of the final conflict.11 Even Hector has been argued to be of Greek origin; possibly Thebes (where the historical conflict started).12 Paris represents Alaksandu, and conceivably was a major Trojan hero, who could have been demoted and replaced by Hector to suit the needs of the story.
What may have happened in the early Iron Age is that these legends were brought together, to an extent rationalized and adapted, roughly analogous to what occurred with the Arthurian legends in the 12th to 13th centuries AD. The analogy may not be precise, as it can be argued that the Arthurian legends were unquestionably written, where the Trojan War legends are perceived to oral. However, it should be considered that the Anatolian versions were almost certainly had a written basis, and this act of collating or redacting the various stories most likely started in western Anatolia.13 In this case, this would be version of the Trojan War legend that was transmitted to the Ionian poets of the 8th century.
I do not mean to imply the legend was transmitted whole and intact. Naturally, a lengthy poem could be broken up into sections more amenable for performance and some parts would be more popular than others, thus better preserved, and this could vary by location. An itinerant poet might therefore encounter the legend in parts as he traveled and add them to his repertoire, to perhaps later “refashion” them into a work of his own. In such a way, the Iliad might have come into being over an extended period, likely decades.14
Does the Iliad retain any evidence of this larger legend of a Bronze Age “Hundred Years War”? Perhaps. The idea is notional, but I would point to the other narratives that appear in the Iliad: Heracles’ previous attack on Troy, Bellerophon’s adventures in Lycia, and the Theban wars.15 Why are they included? Is it simply to pay homage to the exploits of past heroes? Or is it possible that the intent is to put the Iliad in context with these larger conflicts, one of which the Iliad is a part of, while the other relates to the situation in Greece between Thebes and Mycenae?
Finally, was this Trojan War narrative the one we are familiar with? That is, was it indeed “the legend of the fall of Troy”? Or is that belief an artifact of the Unity? The question matters because at the end of the war in 1280, Troy did not fall. The only way to get a sack of Troy into the legend with a historical basis is to extend the war to include the destruction event of 1210–1180, and I have shown this is denied by the available historical data.
How then, can we account for the sack of Troy in the legend? To address this question, we must go one more round with Proteus and consider the Cyclic poems.
This concludes Part 3
References
[1] Latacz (2004, 250) cites Vansina, Oral Tradition as History (1985).
[2] Bryce (2006: 166.); Bachvarova (2016).
[3] Alexander (2009, 69).
[4] See West (Hellenica, 2013, 2014) for his analysis of Odysseus. See Alexander (2009) on the origins of Achilles and Diomedes.
Footnotes
See Bachvarova (2016, 402 n.25) for more on these dates.
Any number of authors have addressed this. West’s landmark book, The East Face of Helicon, is a standard reference. More recent is Bachvarova’s work, From Hittite to Homer (2016).
See Bachvarova (2016) for more discussion of this.
See Bryce (2006, 178) for his reasons for being skeptical.
Strauss (2006, 88). This is another strike against the “inflated minor conflict” theory: poets taking a minor engagement and inflate it into a long, low-intensity “dirty war” that is notably unheroic seems unlikely.
In addition to not being able to rule this out, two such duels in the Iliad might suggest more than one duel occurred during the conflict.
That he is equated with Kyknos is termed “plausible” by West (West 2011, 40).
My upcoming essay, “The Three Faces of Helen,” treats this topic in detail, as well as her role in the legend.
Iliad (9.328–29). Note that the Greeks attacked several islands prior to 1300; could this have inspired adding the attacks on Skyros and Tenedos to Achilles’ legend? Tenedos would be important for operations at Troy.
This has been widely discussed; see Bachvarova (2016) for her interpretation.
A type-story is a story that feature a common folkloric trope; in this case, two brothers setting out to rescue (or return) a princess. Helen is the subject of two such stories: the other is when her own brothers rescue her from Theseus. It seems that Helen’s brothers were removed from the legend to prevent them going after Helen at Troy, as this would conflict with the story of Menelaus wishing to fetch her back with Agamemnon’s help.
Bachvarova (2016, 406) discusses Hector’s origins as a Boeotian mythic hero who was brought into the story and “Trojanized.” Her arguments are convincing. It is intriguing to wonder how a Theban hero, Thebes being the antagonist of Mycenae for much of this period, became the principle Trojan hero.
See Bachvarova for her view of the role of western Anatolian festivals in shaping the Trojan War narrative. See Alexander (2009 and her introduction to the Iliad, 2015), West (2013) and Powell’s introduction to the Odyssey (2014) for their views on the role of Euboea in this process.
My suppositions, while inspired by my own research, owe much to West’s analysis of the Iliad (West, 2011). His discussion is invaluable to students of the epic.
The parable Phoenix relates during the embassy to Achilles in Book 9 of the Iliad, which concerns the war fought by the Curetes and Aetolians at Calydon, seems to be a folkloric element relevant to Achilles’ situation rather than an event included to provide additional context in terms of the two larger conflicts.