Reading The Iliad: Book Five

The following essay is written as a companion to a lecture series in the Myths of Greece and Rome course at the University at Albany by Daniel Gremmler. It follows the translation and line numbering of The Essential Iliad (Hackett, 2000) and The Essential Homer (Hackett, 2000).

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I prefer to use Kindle editions whenever possible. My library goes wherever I go, and it's usually less expensive to own a Kindle version of a text than to even rent it for a semester through school bookstores. Kindle is also more user-friendly, in my opinion, than publisher's web-based "etextbooks," but to each his own.

Diomedes' Aristeia

Book 5 is popularly referred to as Diomedes’ Aristeia. It is the first “battle book” of the epic, books dominated by warfare. In this reading, we will encounter and define a few important terms surrounding heroic activity: aretē, aristeia, kleos, kudos. We will use these terms to explore the social structure of heroic culture in the poem. Book 5 also features popular interactions between gods and mortals. We will analyze these interactions to better understand the relationship between gods and humans.

Athena, the Helper of Heroes

Although she is the child of Mētis (Cunning, Intelligence) via Zeus and, thus, the Olympian goddess of wisdom, Athena is most popular in her warrior aspect. Pallas Athena is the Olympian goddess who fights and drinks beside warriors (heroes). In the Odyssey, she descends to earth to aid Odysseus and Telemachus on their quests. The Odyssey gives her credit for the conceit of the Trojan horse. She drinks with Herakles (below), guides Jason on his quest for the Golden Fleece, directs Theseus’ escape from Crete after slaying the Minotaur, aids Perseus against Medusa, and helps other heroes in the klea andrōn (hero tales). We witnessed her direct intervention amongst mortals in Book 1 when she prevented Achilles from slaying Agamemnon. She exerts a more sustained influence on human action in Book 5.

Herakles and Athena

Attic red-figure kylix (interior) by the Douris Painter (480-470 BCE). Staaliche 

Antikensammlungen Inv. 2648.

Athena pours wine into Herakles’ drinking cup (kantharos).

Photo: Bibi Saint-Pol (wikimedia)

The subject of the book is announced in its opening lines. This parallels the organizational structure of the poem in which the first 20 lines of Book 1 announce the subject of the poem before the narration proper begins. Thus, the opening lines are not the point at which Athena bestows her gifts on Diomedes but, rather, a concise description of the events that will occur within the book:

Pallas Athena now gave to Diomedes,
Tydeus’ son, the strength and courage
That would make him shine
Among the Greeks and win him glory. (1-4)

After initial success on his own, Diomedes is wounded by an arrow from Pandarus, the Trojan who broke the treaty in Book 4. It is at this point that Diomedes formally prays to Athena for aid. This kind of prayer is not uncommon, and one does not necessarily expect the god to descend from on high in answer. We saw such a prayer by Menelaus in Book 3: “Lord Zeus, make Paris pay for the evil he’s done to me; Smite him down with my hands so that men for all time will fear to transgress against a host’s offered friendship” (3.375-7). However, in exceptional times and for exceptional heroes, gods will appear, and Athena is famous for appearing alongside Greek heroes:

Pallas Athena heard Diomedes’ prayer.
She made his body lithe and light,
Then feathered these words into his ear: 

“Go after the Trojans for all you’re worth,
Diomedes. I have put into your heart
Your father’s heroic temper, the fearless
Fighting spirit of Tydeus the horseman,
Tydeus the Shield. And I have removed
The mist that has clouded your eyes
So that now you can tell god from man.
Do not fight with any immortal
Who might come and challenge you,
Except Aphrodite, daughter of Zeus.
If she comes you may wound her with bronze.” 

With these words the grey-eyed one was gone,
And Diomedes returned to the front.

Upon returning to the fray, Diomedes slays many Trojans, earning much glory and experiencing his finest moment as a warrior, his aristeia. Before we consider the issue of aristeia, let us examine the gifts Athena has given the Diomedes. She gives him two things: strength and sight. The former is an obvious enhancement; she has made him a stronger, or at least a sturdier/inexhaustible fighter.[1] The latter, however, is more interesting because it informs the position of humans in the cosmic order. 

Recall that one of the three fundamental differences between gods and humans is knowledge: gods have it and humans do not. Or, to fit the metaphor of the Iliad, gods enjoy access to absolute truth; they see the world as it is. Human knowledge is empirical; it is governed by our limited horizon – our eyes do not see everything that is before us. The poem articulates this relationship with mist. Humans live in ignorance. We walk about the world with our eyes shrouded in mist. It’s core to the understanding of human knowledge in Plato’s Allegory of the Cave.[2] Humans interact within the world every day, and we establish (empirical) truths based on our fumbling experiences the way Plato’s prisoners study shadow play on the cave wall. Humans in the Iliad have sight, but their sight is shrouded in mist. This mist hides some things and distorts others, keeping humans ignorant of the world in which they live.  

With the mist removed from his eyes, Diomedes can see the world as it truly is. He can see what Agamemnon could not in Book 2 when Dream deceived him, or Pandarus in Book 4 when Athena tricked him into breaking the truce. Diomedes can see the gods and, thus, avoid challenging them on the battlefield. For as Dione [3] will explain later, humans who strive against gods are doomed to short, unhappy lives: the violation of xenia was disrespectful to Zeus, and Apollo’s reaction to the insult from Agamemnon was a dire plague for all the Greeks. Before we consider the cost of crossing the gods, however, we will examine Diomedes’ aristeia

The Terminology of Excellence and Honor

Excellence: Aristeia & Aretē

Aristeia is the hero’s moment of excellence, particularly on the battlefield. The root word, arist-, sharing the root with aristoi, meaning “best men,” and of aristocratia (aristocracy), “rule by the best men.” We can think of aristeia as the moment when a hero is at his best, when his aretē (excellence/virtue) shines most brightly. Throughout Book 5, with the help of Athena, Diomedes excels on the battlefield in a way that he hasn’t before nor will again. A hero’s aristeia represents the pinnacle of his martial achievements.

Aristeia is tied to the community. It requires or implies observation by another. Someone must know and remember one’s aristeia for it to exist. Likewise, aretē, while it may always exist within an individual, is only ever meaningful when it is observed by others so that it can be acknowledged by the community. In a sense, aristeia and aretē are rewards given to the hero rather than things that are innately a part of him. It’s a curious relationship: one wins aretē; it’s a reward, but it also emanates from within the hero as opposed to external rewards such as trophies or titles. Both aristeia and aretē exist only insofar as there is a community to witness them. These concepts intertwine with a more typical form of cultural coinage in Homeric society: honor (timē).

Honor: Timē, Kleos, Kudos

Society acknowledges its heroes’ accomplishments through a system of rewards, the “carrots,” trophies, or war prizes that we spoke of in previous books. All these rewards are forms of timē, “honor.” Honor is cultural coinage, a way that society stratifies itself according to positive characteristics or virtues (aretēs). Recall the conflict between Agamemnon and Achilles that drives the Iliad is ostensibly a matter of timē (trophies), the distribution and confiscation of status symbols.

Kleos and kudos are another kind of honor, meaning glory, fame, or renown.[4] They are the highest form of reward that a hero can receive. We might make the analogy to a modern athlete or political figure who competes, not simply to win a game, trophy, or title but a legacy. Sports Illustrated ran an article in 2016 that illustrates this point with basketball phenom, Lebron James. James was asked what was left to motivate him after returning to his hometown and winning an unlikely third NBA championship against an opponent, the Golden State Warriors, that was regarded as vastly superior to his own team. We pick up the article midstream: 

For the past decade, dramatic story lines have followed [Lebron James], some of his own making, others contrived and distracting. Can he make the big shot? Can he win the big game? Can he win the big game in Cleveland? All that has melted away, into a puddle of Moët on the Oracle Arena hardwood, and finally he is left alone with the only subplot that ever really interested him. He has pondered it forever, but could not voice it, not with one title or even two. But now he has three, and the weight of this latest trophy tips scales the others did not. The guy in the second row waits for an honest answer. 

“My motivation…is this ghost I’m chasing. The ghost played in Chicago.”

James refers to is his legacy as chasing a ghost that hovers like a shadow around his every accomplishment. Legacy in this context is his kleos, the story that, in a way, haunts those who follow him – players and spectators alike. The drive “to be the best ever, better than all the rest,” as Sarpedon will say in Book 6, motivates exceptional heroes and modern athletes like James. That means more than defeating the enemy before him. It means accomplishing deeds that rival and, hopefully, surpass those who came before. This dynamic requires the participation of others, the community, to bear witness. Indeed, “Witness” is the carefully crafted campaign built around James by the Nike apparel company. All forms of honor, from material rewards to concepts such as kleos, kudos, aretē, and aristeia, are dependent upon a community to bestow them, either literally (titles & material prizes) or as witness to remember them.

Glory on the Battlefield

Three Ways to View the Accumulation of Glory

Book 5 refers to “glory” (kudos or kleos) early and often. That it does so is reasonable. Glory is integral to the theme of the Book. It is not referred to the same way each time, however, and understanding how one earns glory is instructive to appreciating agency in the Homeric world.

There are three distinct lenses through which the poem views the accumulation of glory. In other words, the act is singular, but the way it is viewed is threefold. We encountered the first lens at the outset of the poem, and it is repeated by Aeneas at line 244, speaking about his horses: “They know how to eat up the plain…. And they will get us back to the city in safety if Zeus gives Diomedes the glory again” (241-4). Glory is given to the hero by divine favor. Nothing happens in the Iliad outside of daemonic (supernatural, divine) influence. The river, the forest, the wind, the outcome of events in every contest are influenced by the supernatural – they are the supernatural in many cases.

This world view is not so terribly archaic as one might initially think, and it has nothing to do with Judeo-Christian monotheism vs. Greco-Roman polytheism. In Hinduism, everything is a fragment of the divine whole; all the gods are one, and everything is divine (pantheism). The Abrahamic tradition is monotheistic, but even allowing for an uncomplicated concept of free will, nothing happens without the will of God. How many champion athletes or disaster survivors have praised God or Jesus for their good fortune? Thus, while it is strange for people raised in a Judeo-Christian world to identify with those living in a world populated by gods as numerous as stars in the night sky, the pervasive impact on human action that modern religions attribute to divine will is similar to that of the ancient Greeks. The act through which glory is given or earned is the same: heroic achievement. In the case of the Iliad, it takes the form of defeating an opponent in battle. Heroes are victorious or vanquished by the will of the gods, i.e., because a god favors a particular champion.

The other ways to view the accumulation of glory are that the hero seizes it (wins it) and that the opponent cedes it (gives it). The fact that glory is seized or won is almost too apparent to note, but if we look back to Athena’s deception of Pandarus in Book 4, she suggested that he “take a shot at Menelaus and win glory and gratitude from the Trojans” (4.106-7). The glory is “won” rather than given to him by god or opponent. At line 305, Pandarus boasts to Diomedes after his attack on the Greek hero, “you’ve handed me the glory.” The fallen opponent gives or cedes glory to the victor. The greater the status or reputation of the vanquished warrior, the greater the glory given to the hero who defeats him.

With this understanding of agency in the Iliad, we return to the confrontation between Diomedes and Pandarus in Book 5: Diomedes thrusts his spear back at Pandarus in the Homeric equivalent of a riposte. In doing so, he at once 1) is given glory by Athena, 2) wins/seizes glory through his innate skill, and 3) is given glory by his foe.

It is important that Pandarus dies at the hand of Diomedes. Pandarus violated the god-sworn truce between the Greeks and Trojans. In this way, the transgressor is punished, and cultural norms are affirmed – don’t break your oaths, especially those made before the gods! Such a lesson foreshadows the fate of Troy itself.

Agamemnon spoke poignantly about the importance of oaths when Pandarus broke the truce in Book 4:

“Dear brother, my oath was your death,
Setting you up to fight the Trojans for us,
And now they’ve trampled their oath and hit you.
But oaths are not empty: we pledged lambs’ blood,
Poured strong wine, and clasped our right hands.
If the Olympian does not act on this immediately
He will in good time, and they will pay heavily
With their heads, their wives, and their children.
[....]
Zeus himself, throned in heaven on high,
Will shake his dark aegis over them all
In his wrath for this treachery.” (170-83)  

An oath is a double-edged sword, and Agamemnon is not the only one to associate them with pain. Oaths are sacred. Interestingly, Oath (Horkos) is the child of Strife (Eris).[5] At first glance, it may seem odd that oaths, intended to facilitate peace and unity, would be so closely associated with strife, the antithesis of peace. However, strife is the inevitable outcome when oaths are broken, and Horkos is the enforcer of oaths; he punishes those who cause strife by breaking them and is thus associated with the Furies (Erinyes) and Nemesis as divine agents of retribution.

 Oaths mean something, and breaking them, like violating xenia, will incur the wrath of the gods. By slaying Pandarus, Diomedes not only enhances his reputation (kleos) by having defeated a significant foe, but he takes on the role of Horkos, the divine avenger of oaths. The contest between Diomedes and Pandarus consciously parallels the enmity between Greeks and Trojans in a war that is fought, at least ostensibly, over a violation of xenia

Contending with the Gods

Diomedes’ aristeia is tied to Athena’s favor. We reviewed his success against the Trojans in general and one of the better Trojan warriors in the person of Pandarus. This victory also served to liken him to the god Horkos (Oath). However, avenging both Menelaus and the Greeks on Pandarus is only the tip of the iceberg for Diomedes in Book 5. In the same encounter, he does battle with Aeneas and comes across Aphrodite herself. It is to these events that we now turn.

Aeneas, who was driving the chariot for Pandarus when Diomedes felled him, is portrayed in the Iliad as an ideal hero, much like Sarpedon, Hector, Diomedes, and others. He is the mortal child of Aphrodite and the Trojan lord, Anchises, making him a cousin to the princes of Troy. He is the subject of his own epic in the Roman period, the Aeneid by Virgil, some 700 years after the Iliad was composed. The Aeneid emphasizes Aeneas’ pietas,[6] his duty to family, country, gods. The seeds of pietas appear in his portrayal in the Iliad as well. After Diomedes slew Pandarus,  

Aeneas vaulted down with his shield and spear,
Afraid that the Greeks might drag the body away.
He straddled it like a lion sure of its strength,
Spear straight out, crouched behind his shield’s disk,
Only too glad to kill whoever stood up to him,
His mouth open in a battle-howl. (321-6)

Aeneas is the dutiful Trojan warrior. He prefigures Hector in later books, and his concern for the treatment of his fallen comrade’s corpse introduces a theme that will become central in the second half of the Iliad. At this point in the poem, however, Aeneas is in over his head. Diomedes is flush with the favor of Athena and is the superior warrior at the moment:

That would have been the end of Aeneas,
But his mother Aphrodite, Zeus’ daughter
(Who bore Aeneas to Anchises the oxherd),
Had all this in sharp focus. Her milk-white arms
Circled around him and she enfolded him
In her radiant robe to prevent the Greeks
From killing him with a spear to the chest. 

As she was carrying him out of the battle,
[….
Diomedes] pounced at her with his spear and, thrusting,
Nicked her on her delicate wrist, the blade
Piercing her skin through the ambrosial robe
that the Graces themselves had made for her. (337-64)

Thus, Diomedes purposely attacks a god on the battlefield and chases her away. Aeneas, meanwhile, is rescued by Apollo whom Diomedes was not given license to engage. That any mortal would purposely attack a god is the pinnacle of hubris (outrage). The fact that Diomedes does so is the exception that proves the rule, and three successive encounters follow to reinforce this fact: Dione’s consolation speech to Aphrodite, Diomedes’ encounter with Apollo, and Diomedes’ initial refusal to engage Ares.

Diomedes and Aeneas

Attic red-figure kalyx-krater (c. 490-480 BCE) by the Tyszkiewicz Painter. Boston MFA 97.368.  

Backed by Athena, Diomedes (left) thrusts his spear toward Aeneas (right), who is falling backward with his sword arm already spent. Aphrodite pulls him away from Diomedes' would-be killing blow. All four figures' names are inscribed. The depiction of gods supporting their chosen warriors by standing directly behind them is commonplace in red-figure iconography.

Photo credit: @KSpartiatis.


Upon retreating to Olympus, Aphrodite complains to her mother, Dione, “The war has gone far beyond Trojans and Greeks. The Greeks are fighting the immortal gods” (410-3). It is at this point Dione explains that humans who strive beyond their place, (i.e., against the gods) are doomed to failure and suffering:

“This fool Diomedes, who doesn’t understand
that a man who fights with gods doesn’t last long,
His children don’t sit on his lap calling him ‘Papa’
to welcome him home from the horrors of war.
So as strong as he is, he had better watch out
Or someone braver than you might fight him,
And Aegialeia, Adrastus’ heroic daughter,
The wife of Diomedes, tamer of horses,
Will wake her family from sleep with lamenting
Her wedded husband, the best of the Achaeans.” (339-448)

As Aphrodite retreats to Olympus, Apollo swoops-in to rescue Aeneas, but Diomedes forgets his place and attempts to slay Aeneas anyway:

[Diomedes] knew Apollo’s hands were there above him.
Great as Apollo was, Diomedes meant
To kill the Trojan and strip off his armor.
Three times he leapt in homicidal frenzy,
Three times Apollo flicked his lacquered shield,
But when he charged a fourth, last time,
He heard a voice that seemed to come
From everywhere at once, and knew it was
Apollo’s voice, saying to him: 

“Think it over, son of Tydeus, and get back.
Don’t set your sights on the gods. Gods are
To humans what humans are to crawling bugs.” (467-78)

In this sequence, Diomedes momentarily oversteps his bounds. Athena gave him leave to strike at one god, Aphrodite, and provided him with the ability to see other gods to avoid confrontation. When Diomedes loses sight of her instructions, Apollo easily deflects the mortal’s attacks and reinforces the third of our fundamental differences between gods and humans (strength) when he says, “Gods are to humans what humans are to crawling bugs.”

 The fact that Diomedes momentarily forgets himself, striking out at Aeneas despite Apollo’s protection, picks up another theme of the Iliad related to the heroic temper, emotions and battlefield behavior.[7] The poem alluded to this earlier when Aeneas jumped down from his chariot to defend the corpse of Pandarus. It was a tactically poor decision, leaving him exposed without an escape route, but in the moment on the battlefield, the moment is often all that matters. Reason or logic (logos) can become obscured in a similar manner that we witnessed in Book 1 between Agamemnon and Achilles in which the heroes’ respective tempers got the better of them. Diomedes restrains his temper in this encounter with Apollo in a way that Achilles and Agamemnon were unable to in Book 1, but it is a struggle for him:   

Even at this, Diomedes only backed up a little,
Just out of range of the wrathful god. (479-80)

Apollo then sets Ares upon the now sober Diomedes, who retreats, mindful of Athena’s instructions not to fight against the gods. This is the state in which we find Diomedes when Athena descends to the battlefield to rally the Greeks whom Ares has sent scattering in retreat:

“You’re not very much like your father, you know.
Tydeus had a small build, but he was a fighter
[….]
But you, I stand by you, I protect you,
I tell you not to worry, to fight the Trojans,
and here you are, either bone-tired
Or paralyzed with fear. No, you’re no son
Of Tydeus or grandson of sharp old Oeneus.” (853-66)

Athena cuts Diomedes to the bone in this speech. She derides him as an unworthy successor to his father and his father before him. In doing so, she calls Diomedes’ identity into question and frames him as an embarrassment to his family. She also suggests that Diomedes is paralyzed with fear, that he lacks the courage to press on in battle. The warrior’s relationship with his past, his ancestry, and his courage are core aspects to a Homeric hero’s identity, and Diomedes is quick to defend himself:

“No, I’m not
Paralyzed by fear, and I’m not slacking off.
But I am following the orders you gave me
When you told me not to fight face to face
With any of the gods except Aphrodite.
If she came, you said I could wound her with bronze.
That’s why I’ve withdrawn and given orders
For all of the troops to fall back to this spot.
I know that Ares is controlling the battle.” (869-77)

With Athena to drive his chariot, deflect Ares’ spear and guide Diomedes’ own javelin, the hero successfully wounds Ares, driving him off the battlefield. Yet, the rule is clear, and the narrative has gone out of its way to show this: humans must not strive against the gods. That Diomedes does so successfully is heavily influenced by multiple interventions on the part of Athena, and speeches by both Diomedes and Dione espouse the normative stance of the epic that such acts are outrageous (hubris) and doomed to failure.

With the aide of Athena, helper of heroes, Diomedes achieves his greatest glory on the battlefield, his aristeia, by slaying Pandarus, besting Aeneas, and wounding both Aphrodite and Ares. At the same time, he showed an ability to restrain his temper by withdrawing from battle when Apollo appealed to his better sense and again when Ares took to the field. Diomedes displays proper respect (and fear) for the gods, realizing his place in the cosmic order as a civilized human. The tragedy and horror of the Iliad in later Books will center around heroes in similar situations who succumb to their (all too human) emotions and lose track (or care) for the distinction between right and wrong; or human, divine, or savage. Both the tragedy and the horror of such actions resides in the fact that such choices pull on the sympathetic bonds of all humans. But that is looking far ahead. For Book 6, we continue to explore the hearts and minds of heroic figures in the civilized realm: both on the battlefield and in the oikos (household).

Notes

[1] The gift is more nuanced than “strength” and has to do with the role of one’s ancestors in conjunction with one’s own actions and identity, but for our purposes, it’s enough to say she makes him a mightier, tireless warrior.   

[2] The Iliad predates Plato by three centuries or more. The textual version of the poem that survives today may have been “finalized” within a century of Plato’s lifetime.  

[3] Mother of Aphrodite in the Iliad.  

[4] Although they are translated into English as synonyms, there is a difference in how the terms are deployed in Homeric literature. Kleos refers to everlasting fame in the stories told about the hero. Kudos is the more immediate celebrity one enjoys such as a stadium clapping and cheering for a victorious gladiator or athlete.  

[5] According to Hesiod’s Theogony and Works & Days, both epic works from the Archaic period.   

[6] Pietas (Latin) is defined as “dutiful conduct” towards the gods, one's parents, relatives, benefactors, country, etc., “sense of duty.” A Latin Dictionary. Founded on Andrews' edition of Freund's Latin dictionary. revised, enlarged, and in great part rewritten by Charlton T. Lewis, Ph.D. and Charles Short, LL.D. Oxford. Clarendon Press. 1879.    

[7] The Homeric term is thumos, but its range of meaning is wide and overlaps with numerous ideas in Greek and English. It is often used in the Iliad in the sense of the psychological or spiritual core of a person. As such, it is associated with primal or emotional impulses. However, it is not exclusively emotional (in distinction from rational) and can represent the unified psychological and spiritual whole rather than the Platonic part that sometimes overrules reason. At various points in Homeric poetry, it is translated as “soul,” “spirit,” “passion,” “temper,” “courage,” “heart,” “mind,” etc.