#birdiethings

I'm sharing how >I< find the texts and images I want. I do this purely as a hobby, which means these are methods I discovered on my own and, in many cases, began using instinctively to guide me. Therefore, I cannot say which methods are the most efficient or reliable, and I am simply describing my own process. Consequently, the examples of how to use them will also be based primarily on my own past usage. In short, this post is limited to my personal experience.

I won't include images because 1) Tumblr has an image limit, and it would look odd if some parts had images while others didn't, and 2) the post would become even longer. Instead, I’ll include links whenever I need to provide examples or tutorials. I know some people find clicking links annoying, but I recommend at least checking out the tutorials since I won't be providing tutorials here myself. But I also have to reduce the number of links due to how Tumblr works, so they will be limited here as well.

Since most of my followers are here for Greco-Roman mythology, I’ll focus on that. BUT these tips apply to real historical figures and subjects beyond Greece and Rome, too! For example, the advice on researching names works for a real-life figure. When it comes to researching primary sources and avoiding modern reinterpretations, you can exclude popular movies about these figures. For image sites, look for archaeological artifacts associated with them! For sites with textual sources, look for writings by philosophers (e.g., Plato), geographers (e.g., Strabo), historians (e.g., Herodotus), travelers (e.g., Pausanias), biographers (e.g., Plutarch), and so on. That sort of thing.

Finally, this post may contain spelling/translation errors.

Have you explored Google?

Let's start with the most basic thing: Google. Most people use Google, but not everyone takes full advantage of its benefits! 

Do you know the operators?

For example, when you search for something, you can use search operators to make your life easier. There are already pages on the internet explaining how it works, so here I will just give examples of how I use some of these in the case of the searches I do. But I recommend accessing the links provided if you are interested!

NOTE: I'm using names because they were the easiest to exemplify, but the same logic applies to other types of words, such as "sources”, "archaic", "ancient Rome", "homosexuality”, "slavery”, "misogyny", etc.

QUOTATION MARKS

When you write something between quotation marks (“[word/phrase]”), it causes the search result to necessarily contain the word or phrase between quotation marks. Some examples of how to use this in Greek-Roman mythology research:

NON-OPERATOR METHOD X OPERATOR METHOD: If I search for the sequence of names Perseus Andromeda Danae Medusa… there will be results that don’t necessarily contain all the names, like perhaps an article specifically about Andromeda that doesn’t necessarily mention Danae. But if I search for “Perseus” “Andromeda” “Danae” “Medusa”, the results will necessarily contain all 4 names, like for example a page about the myth of Perseus & co in general.

CAREFUL WITH THE PHRASING: Note that if I search for “Perseus, Andromeda, Danae, Medusa”, including them in the same quotation marks, Google will look for identical results. That is, texts in which, at some point, the author has listed them in this same way. They won’t be searched as separate names, but as a phrase. For example, if someone listed them, but Danae is the second name instead of Andromeda, it won’t appear in the result because it isn’t an exact match. 

REMEMBER THE NAMES SPELLING: Also, in the case of names with variations, it will search specifically for the variation that you wrote. For example, searching for “Patroclus” isn’t the same as searching for “Patroklos” or something like that. Sure, I might still end up finding one that mentions more than one variant, but that’s a coincidence and not because the operator was looking for it. For example, the Wikipedia page for the character, which contains both spellings, will show up whether you type “Patroclus” or “Patroklos” with this operator, but it’s looking for different parts of the page. So in the case of pages that don't use both versions, they will only appear if they use the one you are using. In the case of extremely popular figures (e.g., Achilles/Akhilleus), you'll probably be better off not using this operator because both options will come up easily. But for less popular figures like Helenus/Helenos, where using the operator is pretty much essential... well, either do two searches (one for each version) or start noticing which spelling is most commonly used and search with that.

SEARCHING FOR PHRASES: In the case of a phrase (“[phrase]”), be careful because the search will be exactly the same. So if you misspell the phrase, it’s likely to mess up the search. For example, this will happen if you’re trying to find an excerpt from a book, but you misspell it. The search will look for the wrong phrase, so you won’t find the right one. So let’s say I want to search for the phrase “Apollo, Apollo! God of the Ways, my destroyer!” that Cassandra says in Aeschylus’ Agamemnon on line 1085 (trans. Herbert Weir Smith). If I search for that phrase as it is written and in quotation marks, I’ll find results of this translation or quotes of it. But if I misspell it by accidentally adding a letter without realizing it, like in “Apollo, Apollo! God of Wahys, my destroyer!”, Google will tell me that there are no results for that search. Consequently, if you’re looking for a phrase that you don’t remember exactly, this isn’t the best method. The non-operator method (the sentence without quotes) will probably be more effective because it has more leeway.

SUBTRACTION

By writing -[word] at the end of your search, you will exclude results that include that word. Some examples of how to use this in Greek-Roman mythology research:

AVOIDING ADAPTATIONS/RETELLING BECAUSE YOU’RE LOOKING FOR PRIMARY SOURCES: If you’re searching for Antigone and you don't want retellings and adaptations to appear because that isn’t your focus, just add -retelling at the end like Antigone -retelling. If you want to be even more certain, add similarities. If the problem is a specific popular retelling or adaptation, use the specific name of the retelling/adaptation.

REMEMBER THE NAMES SPELLING THING: Again, the variation of names remains. One way to test this, just to give you an idea of ​​what I mean: searching for “Herakles” -Heracles will necessarily result in results that have Herakles, but results with Heracles will be excluded. It doesn't matter if Herakles and Heracles are the same character, as the operator is dealing with the exact word written by you. In this case, it is best to look for the most popular name spelling. For example, Apollo is used more than Apollon, so it makes more sense to use -Apollo because it reduces the number of matches.

IF YOU NEED TO EXCLUDE MORE THAN ONE THING: You also can use this operator multiple times, but whenever it is a different word, add it again, for example: “Atalanta” -Hippomenes -Melanion if you want to see something with Atalanta without including her husband and you want to make sure he doesn't show up by including both different names assigned to the character. It's not just useful for characters with two different names, like Atalanta's husband, or for avoiding characters with different name spelling (like -Neoptolemus -Neoptolemos -Pyrrhus -Pyrrhos to make sure the search doesn't include him, Neoptolemus and Neoptolemos being different spellings of the same name and Pyrhrus being an example of a character with more than one name), but it works for anything. In the first example, I could have written -retelling -adaptation.

PEOPLE WITH CONNECTED NAMES: This is kind of a specific tip, so it's better to use examples rather than explaining! If you're interested in Helenus and don't have to deal with results with Helen, searching for his name with -Helen at the end will probably make your life easier, though it will unfortunately eliminate things that relate to both of them (which is a possibility, as they have contact in myths). If you want something without necessarily excluding Helen, then perhaps the quote mark tip with "Helenus" or "Helenos"  will be more useful. Or let's say your problem isn't mythological characters with similar names that the results tend to confuse, like Helen and Helenus, but rather characters with the same name but from different media, like Hermione of Sparta and Hermione Granger, or Perseus (the gorgon-slayer) and Perseus “Percy” Jackson. Simply eliminate words related to the unwanted media using the operator.

FORMAT

When you type filetype:[format], the search result for the file listed will necessarily appear. So, if I, for example, want to read an analysis of Argonautica in PDF format, I can search for “Argonautica” filetype:pdf and the search results will necessarily show PDF files that contain the word “Argonautica”, often academic articles about the poem or about a character present in it. If you test this exact example right now, you will notice that not all the resulting pages have the PDF indicator, but if you click on them, you will notice that the difference is that they don’t redirect you directly to the PDF, but give you the option to open it or not. Examples of this are sites like JSTOR, Brill, Cambridge University Press & Assessment, which usually first ask you to log in or require you to click the read button before going to the PDF. In any case, it’s still a PDF archive, the operator didn’t fail. 

DATE

Let's suppose you want something from a specific date. Perhaps a necessarily recent article. You can use the operators "before" and "after". If I search "Medea after:2015", only things posted after 2015 will appear. This doesn't necessarily mean the content is from after 2015; after all, it could be a re-upload of an article from 1954, for example, but it makes things easier. The same works with "before", only in reverse (that is, searching for things older than the specified date).

IMPORTANT WARNING

DO NOT separate operators from words. If you search for - Atalanta, the operator will NOT work. It has to be -Atalanta! The same goes for the others! Don’t put spaces between words and the operators! 

Furthermore, these were just a few examples of the operators I commonly use. But in reality, there are many more! You can find online tutorials, such as: 1, 2, 3. There's also Advanced Search, but I haven't explored it here because I imagine that, since it's visible on the screen, you might already be familiar with it. I'm still providing a link just in case, though.

Have you tried the other "versions" of Google?

There's the standard Google, which is the one every Google user has used, but there are other Googles. Generally, Google Maps and Google Images are already relatively well-known, but other types are useful for us here. They are Google Scholar and Google Books! The first is specifically academic, and it's one of our greatest allies. The second is for finding books. Many of the books are paid, but there are books that allow samples, and these samples can be useful. Generally, Google Books is better if you already have something in mind because of this. I'll explain this later when I'm giving examples, but keep that in mind. Another one that I don't usually use much, but is a possibility for visual materials, is Google Arts & Culture.

More: Advanced Search on Scholar Google; Advanced Search on Google Books.

Which websites could you possibly search on?

Here are some specific sites that can help, along with how I usually use them! Note that the explanations here are limited to my own experience with these sites, so I recommend exploring them yourself. There is no specific order; after all, this isn't a "best-to-worst" list, especially since they serve different purposes. A quick note: since some of these sites are primarily maintained by volunteers, they are sometimes susceptible to misinformation — even with review processes — so be cautious. Overall, however, I consider most of them to be good sources for starting your research. 

I’m including even the more casual or obvious ones because I’m trying to be thorough here. So, taking an obvious example: Wikipedia. "Everyone knows that one" or "but Wikipedia has plenty of mistakes"...yes, I know... but there is still value to be gained from it, and that’s the point. You don’t need to dismiss it entirely! You just need to filter the information! The final list will even include sites I don't use all that often (though not all of them…I do use some quite a bit), so I can't necessarily guarantee that they are the best choice at all, but I will still add them because they include topics that might be of interest to you.

Additionally, consider:

Primary sources: original documents. For example, The Iliad is a primary source for literature, mythology, and even ancient Greek customs.

Secondary sources: studies, analyses, interpretations, and summaries based on the original documents. For example, the Cambridge series The Iliad: A Commentary consists of secondary sources that use the primary source The Iliad as their main basis — along with other sources, both primary and secondary — to develop analyses and interpretations.

“In general”: general topics. This could include mythology, literature, archaeology, history, etc.

“On ​​mythology”: specifically about mythology.

“Art-focused”: the focus is on visual sources. This doesn't mean there is absolutely no written content, but it is not the main focus.

“Text-focused”: the focus is on written sources. This doesn't mean there is absolutely no visual content, but it is not the main focus.

“Both texts and art”: there is a balance between visual and written sources.

Try your luck on one of these websites!

Theoi (primary sources on mythology, both texts and art) 

Theoi is a website focused on Greco-Roman mythology. Consequently, its catalog is more limited in the sense that it doesn’t have classical texts that aren’t focused on mythology (referring to, for example, classical texts exclusively on politics). The translations available on it are those allowed by the translator or that are in the public domain, so if you want a very specific translation, you probably won’t find it here (which is why, for example, the site sometimes cites a specific source to state something on a character's page, but that source isn’t available on the website). The site lists which versions are used on this page. They tend to keep the explanatory notes of the editions used. It also has a non-exhaustive index of tragic poets, which makes it easy to find out about them. There is a collection of visual sources here, too.

What I generally prefer to use this site for, in a more personal opinion: finding sources on character pages that compile them, finding images, and using the available translations. On a more specific note, although Frazer's Library translation is available on a lot of sites, I prefer Theoi's formatting when it comes to explanatory notes, and I particularly find the explanatory notes in that edition to be a very useful source for finding sources. And again, being a bit specific, I like the pages of fragments and poets. Regarding character pages, I think it's better to use them as a starting point and search for sources than as something definitive. This is because, as they’re intended to be a guide compilation, they don’t necessarily provide all the context and don’t always include all the surviving sources about the character.

Perseus Digital Library (primary sources in general, mainly texts)

Perseus is a website that offers free access to classical texts. It isn’t a site exclusively about Greco-Roman mythology like Theoi, but naturally, many of the texts are about the subject, given the prominence of the subject in these classical texts. For example, you can read Plato's texts. Here is a list of Greco-Roman texts. Perseus, however, only uses permitted versions, either because the site has the translator's permission or because the translation is in the public domain. Therefore, newer translations that aren’t in the public domain and don’t have specific permission won’t be included. There aren’t only texts in English, but in Latin and Greek as well, and it’s even possible to place them side by side and compare them (option on the right side, click “load”. The "focus" option is to switch between available editions). In the case of editions with explanatory notes, the site tends to include the notes as is the case, for example, with this edition of Ars Amatoria. Perseus not only has texts, but also visual materials such as statues, ceramics, etc. Additionally, there are some other materials besides Greco-Roman for those interested (to a lesser extent, though). 

To help with research, Perseus provides a page with tutorials, explanations, FAQ, etc. Because of the flexibility of the site and the fact that the site itself already provides the necessary explanations, I won’t explain the tools here. But just because I know there's a chance people will ignore this page, let me say something: Perseus also has a tool (the tutorial is on the linked page) that allows you to click on specific words in the Greek or Latin versions of the texts and see their meanings as given in different dictionaries. For example, using this 1920 Greek The Iliad text, I click on the word "Ἀχιλῆος" at the end of the first line, and the result is that I’m redirected to this page, which offers the meanings according to LSJ, Middle Liddell, Slater, and Autenrieth. And so it is possible to know that Ἀχιλῆος is simply Achilles. Anyway, I think I've given a sufficient summary. The Perseus help page + your own exploration will help you clear up any doubts you may have and discover more things I haven't mentioned.

What I generally prefer to use this site for, in a more personal opinion: finding words mentioned in sources on search pages that compile them, using the available translations, using the vocabulary/dictionary tool, and consulting editions in Greek or in Latin. Here is a search tool.

Scaifer Viewer (primary sources in general, text-focused)

Scaifer Viewer has the same catalog as Perseus Library (that is, ancient texts in general and therefore not restricted to mythology), because they’re actually different versions of the same initiative, as stated on the home page: “It is the first phase of work towards the next version of the Perseus Digital Library, Perseus 5.0”. The difference is in the layout of the site, not in the catalog. Personally, I consider this difference justifiable enough to make me use both sites, despite containing the same texts, because for certain things Scaifer is more intuitive, and for others I prefer the familiarity of Perseus. Also, if your Perseus server goes down (something that is becoming increasingly common, perhaps precisely because of this ongoing update), you always have the option of using Scaifer to search the same source.

The site has two main search options: Browse Library and Text Search. Clicking on the first one will take you to a page with the authors available on the site, and if you click on the symbol next to their names, the editions of their available texts will appear. In other words, it is, as the name suggests, a library. This method is most advantageous when you are looking for a specific source, but it's not the best if you're looking for a word/character/theme. The second option is to search for words in all the sources available on the site, including the Greek and Latin editions. However, from what I have noticed, it searches exactly for the word you searched for. So, for example, if I search for “Antigone”, the texts in English and Latin will appear (not in Greek, since that isn’t how the name Antigone is written in Greek) and, if a source mentions her without directly using the name, that source won’t appear. By using commas, you can include other names and words. Let's say I specifically want to see texts that include the myth of Medea as Theseus' stepmother, I'll have better luck finding these sources by using "Medea, Theseus", rather than searching through all the sources for Medea and Theseus individually. I reiterate that it isn’t just with names, but words in general, for example, "Iphigenia, priestess".

Topos Text  (primary sources in general)

It's a similar idea to Perseus Library and Scaifer Viewer, in my opinion, so I don't think it requires much further explanation. You can check the list of texts here and the list of figures (both real and mythological) here. You can search here, but I prefer to do it via Google. For example, this is the result for Cassandra using the search tool. But if I search for “Cassandra Topos Text” on Google and click the first link, this is the page that appears.

Some interesting features include a cross-tagging system (meaning that when reading a source that mentions a place, person, or character, the name will be marked with a link that will take you to other mentions of it) and a map.

The Center for Hellenic Studies (Harvard) (primary and secondary sources in general, text-focused)

Although the site has translations of primary sources available, I personally find its academic purpose more appealing. That is, the books and articles available that seek to analyze and study primary sources. There is a library with books available for free online, if you’re interested. Another advantage is that, since they usually make the books available in text format for the site instead of just the translation itself, they sometimes offer introductions and extra context, something that is often not included on other sites. For example, compare this same edition of Philostratus’ Heroica translated by Ellen Bradshaw Aitken and Jennifer K. Berenson Maclean by accessing the versions on Harvard and ToposText.

LIMC (primary and secondary, art-focused)

LIMC is used quite frequently in academic citations that I've seen, so I'm aware of its existence. Basically, the Lexicon Iconographicum Mythologiae Classicae (LIMC) is a site specifically focused on Greek, Roman, and Etruscan visual sources and other arts related to this subject. As with texts, only images that have been authorized are available for viewing online. So if, for example, a museum doesn’t allow an artifact to be displayed, you won’t be able to find it on LIMC. Personally, I’m not yet very familiar with the site's search system, so I won't be able to explain it too much. But just in case an example might make things easier to understand, here is a search for the name Briseis on LIMC Digital (in the search superior bar). As is notable, the site lists things like date, type, material used, authorship, what institution it is in, description of the scene, list of characters included, etc. In some cases, if the image doesn’t appear immediately, clicking the blue number next to "scene" will redirect you to the page with the image. In other cases, the image is simply not available for viewing on the site, only the information about it (e.g., date, description, etc) is displayed. Not everything is in English, a considerable amount of the descriptions and titles are, for example, in French and German. The images aren’t exclusively ancient, there are also medieval and contemporary ones, for example. And considering the tendency of some artists to imitate the classical style, especially in statues, I really advise you to check the dates before assuming that it is necessarily super old.

What I generally prefer to use this site for, in a more personal opinion: well… look for visual sources. I’m still learning how to use the site better, but one problem is that it can be a bit disorganized at times. It is, on the other hand, a good starting point, considering the large collection. Again, I reiterate that it is really important to check the dates because these aren’t exclusively ancient Greek, Roman, and Etruscan sources, but rather related art. The LIMC online version, however, is less informative than the LIMC book, in my experience. The book contains more descriptive explanations, and is also useful for finding literary sources and providing more detailed theories on how to connect visual sources with myths. It doesn’t, however, show all the images, but rather catalogs them and, in some cases, shows images. If you don't know German (like me!), the LIMC book is most useful if you already know what to search for because you can go to the character's name, extract specific parts, and translate them (if you don’t know the language of the passage).

JSTOR (primary and secondary sources on general, both texts and art)

I use this one to find academic articles that are available for free access, and in some cases, even books or chapters of books. In some cases, although the content is available on the site, it won't necessarily be free, or you'll need a specific college membership, but the collection of accessible essays is significant. Many academics make their own texts available for access in this post, so there's a good amount. In the case of books with multiple authors, there is a chance that you will find only some chapters available as individual articles because not all authors wanted to publish their chapters, so only those of those who wanted to share on JSTOR are published. You need a login and there's a monthly limit, but the limit is so high (I think 100... I'm not sure, I've never come close to reaching the limit) that, honestly, I think it's unlikely to bother you. There are also visual materials, not just texts. Although I use this for secondary sources, there are primary sources as well. 

I find this site quite intuitive, so I won't explain. But if you have any doubts, I recommend scrolling to the bottom of the site, as you will find explanations, tutorials, advanced search tools, etc., there.

Academia.edu (primary and secondary sources on general)

Honestly? Kind of the same function as JSTOR.  Even the details mentioned on JSTOR are similar here.

Wikipedia (primary and secondary sources, both texts and art)

Listing Wikipedia here to say: it is true that information as it is written isn’t always reliable, but checking the sources on the page is a good idea. Often, there are primary and secondary sources, and in this sense, I consider Wikipedia a good starting point. Additionally, Wikimedia Commons can be useful for visual materials, especially if you read the artwork information and search from there (for example, the specific item number). Consider checking Wikisource as well, for texts whose distribution is permitted!

Also, if you’re in the habit of looking for translations from the ones listed on the English Wikipedia site, but you come across situations where a particular edition isn’t easily available to the public online for free, consider checking out the translations list of Wikipedia in another language that you’re familiar with. In particular, when I come across situations where some sources have a scarce edition(s) in English and none are really accessible, I tend to look for translated Spanish editions on the other Wikipedia to see if any of those are easier to access.  

Anthologia Graeca (a specific primary source, text-focused)

Anthologia Graeca is… well, a site focused on the book Greek Anthology. Although the editions translated by W.R. Paton are available on ToposText, this specific site is particularly well organized. This is because ToposText wants to provide access to authorized editions of classics without there being a proposed system around an edition, but rather a general system, but Anthologia Graeca is specifically focused on the Greek Anthology.

Therefore, we have the following ways of organizing/searching the epigrams in the anthology: the book (e.g., Book 1) and parts of the book (e.g, 1.2); identified authors of the epigrams, with the anonymous epigrams all grouped under “anonymous” at the end of the page; cities associated with the epigrams in some way, although only in the cases of the epigrams that make such associations. Epigrams that have no relation to any specific location don’t receive this type of classification; various other factors like collections, deities, epithets, etc.

This website is available in the following languages: Latin, English, French, Italian, Portuguese, and Mandarin Chinese. Therefore, if any of these is a language you know better than English and would prefer to use, that option is available (for example, Portuguese is my native language and I use the website in Portuguese)! The chosen language alters the website itself, but not the content. That is, not the translations of the epigrams. While Topos Text provides Paton's edition, Anthologia Graeca provides different editions in different languages. The number of editions available allows you to view the same epigram in different languages ​​and even compare two editions side-by-side. An example is Epigram 7.1, which is available in Greek, Italian, French, English, and Latin (with 3 different Italian translations available). The number of translations available varies depending on the epigram.

If you have more questions, there is a page teaching you how to use the site.

Gantz Myth Sources (primary sources on mythology, both texts and art)

The Beazley Archive (visual sources)

There's not much mystery to it. It's basically a website that compiles the primary sources used for the book "Early Greek Myth: A Guide to Literary and Artistic Sources" by Timothy Gantz, which in itself is a source I highly recommend!

This is a site for visual sources. It tends to be comprehensive, featuring information such as photos, authorship, descriptions, inscriptions, context, secondary sources, and so on. You can find educational resources, which I recommend exploring on your own, but one feature I really like is the search system. The system is even better if you already have an idea of ​​what you're looking for (especially the advanced search, in this case), but it's also good for making discoveries.

Consider institutional websites!

Published magazines and books are a good idea, but what about theses? Someone has already done the work, and you just need to read it. Even with theses you disagree with, they are at least required to provide sources. Why not check the sources cited there? I myself have read interpretations I disagreed with (some of which I even found kind of absurd), but the selection of sources was at least useful for reading and reaffirming my own perspective, independent of the lens of that specific thesis. And in any case, high-quality theses that make you think they were approved for a reason do exist, so there is a gold mine waiting to be explored. 

Some examples of how to search for theses in English: University of Cambridge, University of Oxford, University of Harvard, University of Georgia, University of Virginia.

Also, consider searching museum websites. Many of them have collections that you can access online, with information that might be what you're looking for. Some examples (not all, of course) are: British Museum, The Metropolitan Museum of Art, Museum of Fine Arts Boston, Deutsches Archäologisches Institut, Louvre.

Keep exploring!

Of course, these are just a few sites. It's also important to keep giving other sites a chance! Below, I'll list some more sites that I use (which I won't detail because the post is already long), and I've even included sites that I didn't use to create any of my blogs, but that I occasionally visit out of curiosity, because they might have topics of interest to you. 

Anyway, I always recommend you explore beyond those mentioned here! You might find something I didn't, after all.

Attalus - “This site contains detailed lists of events and sources for the history of the Hellenistic world and the Roman Republic. It includes links to online translations of many of the sources, as well as new translations of some works which have not previously been easily available in English.”

The Ancient Graffiti Project (AGP) - “Welcome to The Ancient Graffiti Project, a digital resource for locating and studying handwritten inscriptions of the early Roman empire. These ancient messages and sketches offer a window into the daily life and interests of the people who lived in the ancient world, especially in Herculaneum and Pompeii. They provide perspectives on Roman society, the ancient economy, religion, spoken language, literacy, and activities within the ancient city.”

LacusCurtius - “Graeco‑Roman antiquity in some detail. It includes a photosampler of Roman and Etruscan cities and monuments — with a very large site on the city of Rome of course; many complete Latin and Greek texts, usually in English translation as well; Rodolfo Lanciani's book Pagan and Christian Rome, Christian Hülsen's book on the Roman Forum, Bury's 2‑volume History of the Later Roman Empire, Bevan's House of Ptolemy, 4 books on Roman Britain, George Dennis's Cities and Cemeteries of Etruria; Platner and Ashby's Topographical Dictionary of Ancient Rome (nearly complete) and most of Smith's Dictionary of Greek and Roman Antiquities; about 45% of Plutarch's Moralia; a quick sketch of a site for teaching yourself to read Latin inscriptions; some maps of the Roman Empire, and more.”

Beyond Translation - Used to check primary sources and their translations, in a way that allows you to see specific words. This site is part of the same project as Perseus Library and Scaifer Viewer, and you can see more here and here.

Project Gunterbeg - “Choose among free epub and Kindle eBooks, download them, or read them online. You will find the world's great literature here, with a focus on older works for which U.S. copyright has expired. Thousands of volunteers digitized and diligently proofread the eBooks, for you to enjoy”.

Open Edition - “OpenEdition brings together four platforms dedicated to electronic resources in the humanities and social sciences.”

Pompeii in Pictures - “The content of our web sites is regularly being updated with new excavations, villas, tombs, areas and information being added.”

Euripides Scholia: An Open-Access Online Edition - “This is part of a long-term project to provide an expandable and correctable open-access presentation of the Greek annotations found in ancient and medieval manuscripts of Euripides (or assembled separately from the text of the dramas)”. Note that the intention is not to cover the entirety of Euripides' scholia, but only parts of it. For the most part, the focus is on the scholia on the play Orestes.

eScholarship - “eScholarship® provides scholarly publishing and repository services that enable departments, research units, publishing programs, and individual scholars associated with the University of California to have direct control over the creation and dissemination of the full range of their scholarship.” I particularly recommend searching outside of the website. For example, searching "eScholarship scholia" on Google.

Suda On Line: Byzantine Lexicography (SOL) - “The Suda (or Stronghold): a massive 10th century Byzantine Greek historical encyclopedia of the ancient Mediterranean world, covering the whole of Greek and Roman antiquity and also including Biblical and Christian material. [...] The Suda On Line (SOL) project, begun in 1998 as part of the Stoa Consortium, opens up this stronghold of information by means of a freely accessible, keyword-searchable database, with English translations, notes, bibliography, and links to other electronic resources.”

EuroDocs: Online Sources for European History, Selected Transcriptions, Facsimiles and Translations - “These open access sources are readily available to all -- without fees or subscriptions. Links connect to European primary historical documents that are transcribed, reproduced in facsimile, or translated. In addition you will find video or sound files, maps, photographs, or other imagery, databases, and other documentation. The sources cover a broad range of historical happenings (political, economic, social and cultural).” Here are links to "Greece: Ancient and Classical", "Greece: Hellenistic and Roman Periods" and "Italy: Prehistory and the Roman Empire".

Livius: Articles on Ancient History - “The Livius.org website offers information on ancient history. There are currently 4381 pages. You will also find more than 10,700 original illustrations. You can search to find what you are looking for or browse through the articles using categories or tags; the articles listed after the map are just the most recent ones.”

Diotíma - “Welcome to Diotíma (v. 3.0), a resource for information on women, gender, sex, sexualities, race, ethnicity, class, status, masculinity, enslavement, disability, and the intersections among them in the ancient Mediterranean world.”

Attic Vase Inscriptions (AVI) - “AVI (Attic Vase Inscriptions / Attische Vaseninschriften) is an extended and web-based continuation and development of Henry R. Immerwahr's CAVI (Corpus of Attic Vase Inscriptions). AVI's main part is the interactive database, which is now available in a more developed version. We also provide informations about the project's prehistory (by Henry Immerwahr), protohistory, and present and future aims, bibliography (more than 3000 titles), as well as some texts on alphabets and phonology of the Attic dialect.”

Poetry in Translation: The Open Access Poetry Archive - “Our policy is that of providing open access, downloadable texts, free for non-commercial reuse. All of our texts are human-authored or translated.”

Setentiae Antiquae - “Through this blog, and the accompanying Twitter feed (@sentantiq), we aim to bring you some of the most famous (and also most confounding) quotations from the ancient world. In addition, we also take pleasure in shining lights on some of the forgotten shelves and corners of classical heritage. You’ll find tidbits from the Archaic Age in Greece all the way through imperial Rome and up through the fall of Byzantium. By Jove, if there is something somewhat classically oriented later than that, you might find it too”.

Ancient Greek Language on the Web: A Critical Survey of Websites - “Welcome to Ancient Greek language on the Web. This popular electronic gateway offers links to websites devoted to Ancient Greek linguistics. The site does not include nor discuss printed resources (for digitized resources, see Textkit). “

Greek & Roman Civilisation: Getting Started - It has resources, including online ones, on the topic.

Electronic Resources for Classicists - The name is self-explanatory.

Greek and Roman Studies - Resources shared by Hofstra University!

Is there any other tip to consider?

There always is, so let's go!

Do you want to search for specific words on a website or in a document? Consider this popular shortcut!

This is a kind of basic tip (most people I know are already familiar with this Windows shortcut), but I’m sharing it anyway because I’ve met people who didn’t know about it. Do you know what Ctrl + F does? If so, feel free to skip this. If not, read on! Believe me, knowing this will save you time!

Ctrl + F is a search shortcut. It opens a small search bar in the corner of the screen (in my experience, the top right corner) where you type the term you’re looking for. Once you do it, every instance of that term in the text is easy to spot. But remember: it is very sensitive to exactly how you type. If you don’t type the word exactly as it appears in the text, there won’t be a match. It also takes punctuation and spaces into account. Searching for " sun", "sun", "sun ", "sun.", “; sun”, or "sun!" are different things. See more here!

If you use a Mac, the equivalent shortcut is Cmd + F. See here! 

You want to copy a text excerpt, but the format doesn't allow it…consider using transcription sites!

Sometimes you want to copy a passage, but it is…a hassle. Sometimes, the text is unfortunately part of an image or a screenshot. Sometimes, the document format makes copying difficult: the text won't copy (you try to copy, but you can't even select the text), it copies with messy formatting (to the point where having to reformat it is kind of annoying), or it copies incorrectly (e.g., some words appear as symbols). Sometimes the copy is okay, but there is a word or phrase using a different alphabet, and that specific word or phrase causes problems (for example, a word in Greek, if you don't use the Greek alphabet. And since we're talking about research focused on ancient Greece and Rome, that is a real possibility).

All of this doesn't stop you from reading and understanding what's written, but if you want to research that passage, save it in your research document, or cite it in your own work or post, having to retype it yourself is a pretty discouraging process. Well, fortunately, free online transcription tools exist! Just search for Image Transcription or Photo Transcription! 

Consider starting with the macro level before moving on to the micro level!

I know it is natural to be in a rush to get to the point, but sometimes you have to admit that you lack the necessary knowledge to find sources right away. Therefore, consider starting by reading more general texts and using them to delve deeper into specific topics.

Handbooks, guides, and encyclopedias might not offer a highly detailed approach, given the nature of such texts (which cover a wide range of topics and must therefore remain relatively superficial to encompass them all), but they do offer a great advantage: they gather sources for you in a single place. For example, regarding Greco-Roman literature, books such as Timothy Gantz’s Early Greek Myth: A Guide to Literary and Artistic Sources, Robin Hard’s The Routledge Handbook of Greek Mythology, Oxford Handbook of Greek and Roman Comedy, Oxford Handbook of Greek and Roman Mythography, and the Routledge Gods and Heroes of the Ancient World series are good choices, though certainly not the only ones.

But this isn't necessarily about literature. Look, for example, at how Oxford has various handbooks about Ancient Greece and Rome: Oxford Handbook of Greek and Roman Coinage, The Oxford Handbook of Roman Studies, Oxford Handbook Of Greek Cities In The Roman Empire, The Oxford Handbook Of Ancient Greek Religion, Oxford Handbook of Greek and Roman Art and Architecture, Oxford Handbook Of Roman Philosophy, Oxford Handbook of Roman Imagery and Iconography, etc. In the case of Oxford, they actually even have a website focused on their handbooks. Here are the ones about Greece and the ones about Rome.

I’m using Oxford as an example because I’ve noticed their handbooks are famous. But are they the only ones? No, of course not. These are just examples. 

Even if your native language generally doesn't help much with results in this research area, consider paying attention to your native language as well!

This is a piece of advice for people whose native languages ​​aren't usually very "useful" when it comes to ancient Greece and Rome, but I'll leave it here anyway. If you don't know the original source languages and your native language isn't English, German, or French (the languages ​​most commonly associated with translations and scholarship), it is very common to completely overlook your native language when doing research. You might think “well, I'm much more likely to find something in English". And yes, that is true in many cases! Honestly, I usually search in English too. But even so, avoid completely dismissing the advantage of being able to read in more than one language! I mean, it just gives you more opportunities to check things out! And in the case of primary sources, sometimes it’s more comfortable to read in the language you’re most used to, isn’t it?

In addition to the officially published translations, consider checking out the websites available in your native language! In this case, I particularly recommend that you look for sites of universities that offer courses that study classics, history, archeology, etc, as there is a chance you will find theses and dissertations made available for free public access. 

Furthermore, some of these theses are actually translations + analyses, so if you can't find a translation officially published by a publisher, consider those done by university students as an option! In the case of Brazil, an example is the translation + analysis of Euripides' Andromache by Priscila Buse (Universidade Federal do Paraná). It is also good for finding translations and theories of more obscure fragments and texts! Some Brazilian examples are Euripides' Andromeda translated by C.L. Crepaldi (Universidade Federal da Bahia) and the text of the First Vatican Mythographer translated by Ana Paula Silva (Universidade Federal da Bahia). None of these texts is officially published in Brazil in a specific edition, but I found them thanks to these universities!

Here are some options if you understand Portuguese to exemplify what I'm talking about: Repositório Institucional da UnB (site universitário), Repositório Institucional da UFBA (site universitário). 

If you find it difficult to search on the websites directly, you can always search on Google for the subject + name of the institution. For example: Electra UnB.  I

There are also independent sites that can be useful, such as Graecia Antiqua for general consultations or O Codice for translated sources. And well, the more help, the better, right?

Regardless of your native language, consider other languages ​​if possible!

This advice is for people who are at least somewhat bilingual, but here it is. Don't overlook any languages ​​you can understand, even if you aren't 100% fluent!

In my case, it’s Spanish! I’m not fluent in Spanish (for example, I probably wouldn't understand much if I listened to a lecture in Spanish), but thanks to its similarities to Portuguese and other exposures to Spanish I had, reading texts in Spanish is a viable option for me. And well, Spanish is more widely spoken than Portuguese, so, if I’m out of luck with sources in English (usually because they aren't accessible) or Portuguese (whether due to lack of access or because translations simply don't exist yet), why not try my luck with Spanish? That’s how I got access to fragments of Sophocles when I couldn't find them easily in either Portuguese or English. So yeah, thanks, Spanish language, I'm so glad I remembered you!

Like, remember that being able to read in multiple languages ​​is an advantage! Why waste it? This advice holds true even if your native language is already very useful for this type of research. An example: English is your native language, and you might feel you don't need to research using other languages ​​because yours already offers plenty of access…but hey, you’re bilingual! You can actually read French, too! Why not give it a try? There are things in French that don’t exist in English, even if you can already find plenty of material in English. Every tool is a tool, even if you don’t realize at first that you have it.

You don't know this language, but someone you know does... consider asking!

This is a piece of advice that depends on your inner circle and online community, but I’m going to share it anyway. Do you have friends, online mutuals, family members, colleagues, whatever, who speak a language you don't and would be willing to help you out? Why not ask for help?

Let's say there’s a German encyclopedia containing really useful information that keeps getting cited in studies, but it’s a shame you don’t speak German and don’t find the available automatic translators very reliable. But what a coincidence! You happen to know someone who speaks German, whether they’re a native speaker or have learned it! And you know they’re the kind of person who wouldn’t mind lending a hand. That’s great, right? Try your luck! Just be polite and don't act as if it's their obligation; after all, they are gently doing you a favor.

Of course, I’m not talking about super-long texts because, in my opinion, it would be a bit odd to expect someone to devote that much time and effort to reading and summarizing the “general idea” for you, but what about the little things? A single dictionary or Wikipedia entry isn't a big deal, a brief caption under a photo isn't a big deal, a paragraph or two from an article isn't a big deal. The times I asked for help of this kind, it really helped.

You don't know the language and have no one to ask... you might have to improvise! Consider this improvised method as a possibility!

So, you need something available in a language you don’t speak and, unfortunately, you don't know anyone to help you either. Well, you’ll have to improvise. It’s a less reliable method (since translation is a delicate task requiring a great deal of expertise, which this approach unfortunately lacks), but it serves more as a stopgap option than a definitive solution.

For example, years ago, I was interested in the cult of Achilles Pontarches, and a specific reference kept popping up in various academic articles and books, so I decided to look into it. Luckily, I found it on Wikipedia! Unfortunately, however, it was in German, and I couldn't find any available translations. I don’t speak German, nor do I know anyone who does. Perhaps I should have simply accepted that language barrier and stopped there, but the thing was: the text seemed incredibly important. So, having established that I couldn't just ignore it, what did I do?

STEP ONE: get the original text (in this example, the German text).

To do this, I accessed the file on Wikipedia. Then, I used the Snipping Tool to take screenshots of the referenced sections. After that, I fed the text into an online transcription tool (depending on the text and the language, it might be better to transcribe in parts rather than all at once; I noticed, for example, that transcription tools handle Ancient Greek more accurately when there is less text to read in the image). Once the result was ready, I copied it. There it is! 

STEP TWO: use automatic translators to take a shortcut.

For this part, I put the German text into various translation sites and compared the results. Then, using the same sites, I tried specific passages rather than long, complete sections because, for some reason unknown to me, online translators sometimes do a better job with shorter texts.

I chose to translate into English because, at least in my personal experience, online translators tend to translate other languages ​​into English better than into Portuguese. But, well, I don't know if that's the case for other languages.

THIRD STEP: analyze the provided translation.

Now, compare all these machine translations, taking into account the different websites used and the varying lengths of the translated segments. Notice which parts tend to be translated in a standardized way and which ones have more variation depending on the method.

Next, focus on those parts that tend to vary. Search online dictionaries and language-learning forums to look up the individual meanings of the words. You will end up with an extremely literal version of the passage. Using this literal version, you’ll apply your own reasoning, considering the text's context (subject matter, time period, country, etc), to deduce which dynamic translation is most likely to capture the correct “essence”. The goal here isn't a 100% faithful translation, but rather to grasp the text's core idea. After all, you aren't trying to be a professional translator, you are simply trying to gather information.

Finally, to be more certain, look at academic articles that discuss the passage. Although these articles often don’t translate the passage itself (after all, if they had, you wouldn't need to go through this whole process), they reference information from it and offer interpretations. Consider whether your findings align with what the academic who cited the text said! Ideally, consult more than one academic because that way, you can be sure there isn't too much bias. In my case, the details I discovered (the location of the cult, its visual elements, specific inscriptions, etc) appeared in both my own rough, improvised translation and in multiple academic articles, so I concluded that this was indeed the correct interpretation.

ADDENDUMS

a) Why note consistent parts and fluid parts?

In my experience, the parts that tend to remain unchanged are usually correct, though this isn’t an absolute rule. That is why I suggested focusing on the fluid parts if you feel the need to do further checks.

I tried testing this by translating Portuguese texts into English and Spanish, as I could be more certain of the results given my familiarity with these languages, which makes it easier to spot misunderstandings. Indeed, the parts of the text that the machine translators got consistently tended to align with the meaning of the Portuguese original, whereas the parts that varied more easily tended to be less reliable. This was usually due to differences in sentence structure between the languages ​​(notably, Spanish was less problematic in this regard, precisely because its structure is very similar to Portuguese; conversely, English, with its distinct features regarding gender, pronouns, and phrasing, was harder to translate accurately via machine) or the use of slang and idioms.

In the end, it’s just my experience, and I can’t claim it’s a fact. But this is a post about how >I< do research and not how certified scientists do it…and, well, this is how I do it.

b) Is it reliable?

Not entirely. Ultimately, language is complex… if even a knowledgeable person can make mistakes, a l umprovised method by a layperson certainly can too! Automated translators lack the necessary human insight (they don't grasp context the way people do), dictionaries can be overly concise (they don't always list every possible translation for a word, especially within a specific phrasing), and literal translations fail to account for subjective nuances (language is subjective, so trying to treat it objectively is rarely the best approach).

That is why I recommend it primarily for cases of extreme necessity (when there is truly no other option), when you can cross-reference with human content (such as articles that explain the passage, giving you a human interpretation), and when the goal is to grasp the general idea of ​​the text rather than translate it word-for-word. I also find it less suitable for literary texts, as they often contain nuances that this type of translation fails to capture. It works best with non-fiction sources — such as encyclopedias or academic articles — since these tend to use language more neutrally in comparison to literary texts.

Exemplifying

In Apollonius Rhodius's version, Hera, when describing how Achilles is raised on Pelion, says that he “craves thy mother's milk”.

“[...] When thy son shall come to the Elysian plain, he whom now in the home of Cheiron the Centaur water-nymphs are tending, though he still craves thy mother milk [...]”

Argonautica, 4.810-812. Translation by R.C. Seaton.

Considering that we later learn that Thetis left Phthia when Achilles was a baby, it seems likely that Hera was perhaps being literal:

[...] but sharp pain smote Peleus, for never before had he seen her [Thetis] come, since first she left her bridal chamber and bed in anger, on account of noble Achilles, then a babe. For she ever encompassed the child's mortal flesh in the night with the flame of fire; and day by day she anointed with ambrosia his tender frame, so that he might become immortal and that she might keep off from his body loathsome old age. But Peleus leapt up from his bed and saw his dear son gasping in the flame; and at the sight he uttered a terrible cry, fool that he was; and she heard it, and catching up the child threw him screaming to the ground, and herself like a breath of wind passed swiftly from the hall as a dream and leapt into the sea, exceeding wroth, and thereafter returned not again. [...]

Argonautica, 4.866-879. Translation by R.C. Seaton.

In Statius's version, Achilles explicitly said he wasn’t nursed ("nourishing breast") and that his diet wasn’t conventional ("no wonted food"). He describes that Chiron gave him "entrails of lions and the bowels of a half-slain she-wolf”.

[...] “Even in my years of crawling infancy, when the Thessalian sage [Chiron] received me [Achilles] on his stark mountain-side [Pelion], I am said to have devoured no wonted food, nor to have sated my hunger at the nourishing breast, but to have gnawed the tough entrails of lions and the bowels of a half-slain she-wolf. That was my first bread, that the bounty of joyous Bacchus, in such wise did that father of mine feed me. [...]"

Statius' Achilleid, 2.96-101. Translation by J.H. Mozley.

In Pseudo-Apollodorus' version it is said that Achilles was initially known as Ligyron because he wasn’t breastfed. J.G. Frazer explains the etymology proposed here as “Apollodorus absurdly derives the name Achilles from a (privative) and cheilê, “lips,” so that the word would mean “not lips.”” (note 268). Chiron also gave Achilles “innards of lions and wild boars and the marrow of bears”.

[...] Peleus brought his son to Cheiron, who accepted him and raised him on the innards of lions and wild boars and the marrow of bears. He named him Achilles (before that, his name had been Ligyron) because he had never put his lips {cheilos} to a breast.

Pseudo-Apollodorus' Library, 3.13.6. Translation by Stephen M. Trzaskoma.

In Philostratus's version, Chiron gave Achilles "honeycombs and the marrow of fawns”.

[...] When Achilles was born, they [Thetis and Peleus] made Kheiron his foster-father. He fed him honeycombs and the marrow of fawns. [...]

Philostratus’ Heroica, 731-734. Translation by Jennifer K. Berenson Maclean and Ellen Bradshaw Aitken.

In a Byzantine book that seeks to provide etymologies, among the suggested etymologies of the name Achilles (Akhilleus), there is the idea that the "khilê" part is a reference to him not having been breastfed and having been fed only "stag-marrow" by Chiron.

Akhilleus: [this name comes from] lessening grief, for Achilles was a doctor. Or it is because of the woe, which is pain, he brought to his mother and the Trojans. Or it is from not touching his lips to food [khilê]. For he had no serving of milk at all, but was fed with stag-marrow by Kheiron. This is why he was hailed by the Myrmidons in the following way, according to Euphoriôn: “He came to Phthia without ever tasting any food This is why the Myrmidons named him Achilles.”

Etymologicum Magnum, s.v Achilles. Translation from here. 

In the scholia D of The Iliad, it is said that Chiron, while raising Achilles, gave him "marrow of lions and bears." While there is no explicit mention of the name Lygiron, it seems implicit that this is the case here, since the commentary says "he [Chiron] called the boy Achilles”, indicating that in this version the name Achilles was given by Chiron and not by Peleus or Thetis, which hints back to what was proposed by Pseudo-Apollodorus.

If you in your mind are avoiding some destiny (εἰ δέ τινα φρεσὶ σῇσι εοπροπίην ἀλεείνεις) [...] Peleus [...] brought him [Achilles] to Mt. Pelion, giving him over to Cheiron to raise. Because Cheiron nourished him on the marrow of lions and bears, he called the boy Achilles. After teaching him the art of medicine and how to play the lyre and sing, he returned him to his father. Thetis, meanwhile, was angry and left Peleus, returning to the sea. [...]

Scholia D, 16.36. Translation by R. Scott Smith.

In the 4th-century CE artistic representation known as the “Achillesplatte,” Achilles is depicted as a baby sitting on top of animal carcasses next to Chiron in a reference to the myth of Chiron feeding him carnivorous animals. And as mentioned by Robertson (1940), it is possible that an earlier Greek amphora (C.V.A. Berlin i, Pl.v) made a similar reference. In The Iliad, there are many instances of Achilles' eating, but they concern not his diet but his state of mind. I have therefore decided to include them throughout the argument proposed here rather than listing them among the primary sources, although primary sources they are, because I would otherwise have to repeat them.

Now that I've clarified the primary sources regarding Achilles' nutrition, let's look at what this might mean. One of the things emphasized is the supposed absence of breast milk. Accounts of the moment when Thetis abandons Phthia for the sea after Peleus accidentally interrupts her in an attempt to immortalize Achilles emphasize that Achilles was, in fact, a baby (Hesiodic The Aegimius frag. 2; Argonautica 4.866–879; Pseudo-Apollodorus' Library 3.13.6; Scholia D 16.36). The emphasis on the absence of breast milk seems significant, considering how its association with a mother's nourishing power was recognized.

For example, in The Iliad (22.79-89), Hecuba, hoping to persuade Hector to desist from facing Achilles, exposes her breasts to remind him that she is his mother and, consequently, to remind him of the pain she will suffer. She even says, "I used to give you my breast to soothe you". Her pleading strategy doesn't work since Hector still chooses to fight, but it's still significant that this is a narrative element. The reason it doesn't work isn't that there's no appeal in her lament, it's just that Hector is deeply committed to his notion that he must continue to fight. Priam, Hecuba, Andromache — father, mother, wife — none of Hector's most important people are able to convince him, so I don't think Hector's refusal to listen to Hecuba's plea tells something about the ineffectiveness of maternal appeal, but rather tells more about Hector.

Clytemnestra, in Aeschylus, strongly associates her breasts with her role as a mother. Clytemnestra dreams that she gave birth to a serpent and treated it like a baby, but when she took it to her breast to nurse, the snake bit her. This caused the blood and milk to mix (The Libation Bearers, 526-533). Later, to convince Orestes to give up on killing her, Clytemnestra exposes her breasts to him and reminds him of who she is: his mother. And she almost succeeds, as Orestes actually hesitates. But Pylades, who isn’t Clytemnestra's son and as such is unaffected by such an argument, prevents his friend from not killing her. Clytemnestra even reinforces the argument with statements such as “the milk that nourished you” and “It was I who nourished you, and with you I would grow old” (The Libation Bearers, 896-908, trans. H.W. Smyth).

In Clytemnestra's case, however, her breast not only represents motherhood, but specifically a corrupted motherhood. The image presented isn’t of a mother peacefully nursing a baby eager for comfort, but rather of a mother whose milk has been tainted by blood, just as the bonds between her and Orestes have been tainted by the murders of Pelops’ lineage — there is no longer any comfort Clytemnestra can offer or Orestes can accept; they are trapped in a cycle of violence. And while Hecuba's plea fails Hector because he sees himself as a man with a duty, Clytemnestra's plea fails Orestes because, in the end, she is no longer seen by the narrative as a mother. She renounced this role when she took the actions she did, something confirmed when in Eumenides the characters argue that Orestes did not commit matricide because, after all, Clytemnestra “isn’t truly” considered his blood relative. Indeed, the role of wife and mother being intrinsically linked to the female figure in Ancient Greece, even Clytemnestra's femininity is denied: "These are my wife's words" (Agamemnon, 349), she says, and the Chorus responds, "You speak as wisely as a most prudent man" (351). In contrast, to Aegisthus, Clytemnestra's lover, the Chorus says, "Woman that you are!" (1625).

In an epigram, the author associates motherhood with two parts of a woman's body: the breasts (associated with nutrition) and the belly (associated with the act of giving birth).

By Anonymous (What Clytaemnestra might have said when Orestes was about to kill her) Where dost thou direct thy sword, to my belly or my breasts? This belly brought thee forth, these breasts nurtured thee.

Greek Anthology, 9.126. Translation by W.R. Paton.

In this sense, it's the womb that carries the child, but it's the breast that strengthens them so them stays alive. It's not enough for a baby to simply be born; them must be nourished, similar to how there's no point in planting a seed if you deprive it of nutrients — nothing will grow from it.

Another example, besides the exposure of breasts in supplication, is the way children are still described in close proximity to the breast. For example, when describing how Neoptolemus forcibly took Astyanax from his nurse, a fragment states that "but her [Andromache] son he [Neoptolemus] snatched from the bosom of his [Astyanax] rich-haired nurse" (The Little Iliad, frag. 14, trans. Evelyn-White). On another occasion, mothers grieving the death of their children associate the idea of a final comfort with the idea of holding them close to their breasts, even if the said child is lifeless: "Let me embrace and hold my children to my bosom in my enfolding arms" and "Come, let me clasp the dear ashes to my bosom" (The Suppliants, 815 and 1160, trans. E.P. Coleridge). And indeed, proximity to the mother's breast tends to be considered a comfort, as demonstrated by the way Andromache, in an attempt to comfort Molossus in what appears to be possibly the last moments of his life, says: “Rest there, my babe, my darling! on thy mother's bosom, e'en in death and in the grave” (Andromache, 512, trans. E.P. Coleridge).

Overall, it's safe to assume a logical connection (after all, it's a fairly obvious idea) between breasts and motherhood in the ancient Greek imagination, which includes mythological representations. The lack of proximity between the mother's breast and a child is seen as negative, something regrettable. Coccagna (2014, pp. 402) notes:

We find an early reference to the comfort of a mother’s breast in Hecuba’s appeal to  Hektor to remember his mother’s λαθικηδέα μαζόν, or care-banishing breast. This passage lies at the beginning of a long tradition of mothers invoking their breasts to incite pity in their children in the hope of swaying their decisions. The tragedian  Euripides employs the term mastos close to thirty times, and demonstrates the scope of the word’s signification. Most frequently, mastos refers to a mother’s breast, whether in a scene in which a female character beseeches a child by making reference to their breast that once suckled him in infancy or bemoans the separation of mother and son, as in the Ion, when the description of the child seeking the breast is referenced twice. In Bacchae, the mastos’ natural function is violated as frenzied women, their breasts swollen with milk not fed to the children they have left behind, nurse wild animals in their stead. These depictions present non-eroticized, biologically functional breasts that mark the woman’s role as mother and caregiver

As mentioned, the separation of the child from the mother's breast in the play Ion (Ion, 760-762, 961-962, 1490-1498) is supposed to be something sad, and the way in Bacchae the women driven mad by Dionysus no longer breastfeed, even though their breasts are heavy with milk (Bacchae, 677-703), is a way of demonstrating how these women are in fact no longer behaving in a typically feminine way — how the cult of Dionysus defies the norms and how much Pentheus is struggling with this feeling of being confronted by the "other". Therefore, it is as if the association between maternal breasts and the act of nourishing and comforting were a kind of status of normality. That is, that a child is prevented from being close to its mother's breast or that a child isn’t being breastfed by her is a status of abnormality. 

Therefore, considering everything that has been established here about the powerful appeal of maternal imagery surrounding breasts (whether it be the comfort Andromache attempts to offer Molossus, Hecuba's heartfelt plea, Clytemnestra's distorted motherhood, the tragedy of a child separated from the breast, the challenge to the status quo in Bacchae or other examples), it makes sense to assume that the emphasis on Achilles' lack of breastfeeding serves a purpose. After all, why would there have been attempts to explain the name's etymology through this if it were truly so irrelevant?

The thing is: it's not just that Achilles wasn't properly breastfed, it's that Achilles, being a child of an abnormal marriage, grew up in abnormal situations and, eventually, won't behave in a way considered normal either. Thetis, by leaving Phthia, left Achilles without the idea of an mortal present mother — she is quite present by divine standards, but not by mortal standards of motherhood. It's, of course, normal to expect a goddess not to be content to resign herself to the human environment (and I say this even if her marriage wasn't forced. For example, it's not as if Aphrodite wanted to live among mortals because of Aeneas), but it's not normal to expect a mortal son to not be breastfed. Thetis having Achilles as a son is abnormal because an immortal mother shouldn't grieve a mortal son, but Achilles having Thetis as a mother is also abnormal because, in this case, he wasn't raised according to mortal social ideals. But this not only represents the precarious mother-son experience of both, but also reinforces the abnormality of the mortal/immortal duality that Achilles experiences. This duality that Thetis embraces and laments with all her fervor.

In The Iliad, Hera argues that it is natural for her to favor Achilles over Hector, as Achilles is closer to the divine. He is "born of a goddess," whom Hera says she herself "nurtured and reared," but Hector is "mortal and sucked at the breast of a woman":

Then in anger white-armed Hera addressed him: “This speech of yours, you of the silver bow, might be justified if you gods hold Achilles and Hector in the same honor. But Hector is mortal and sucked at the breast of a woman, while Achilles is born of a goddess, one whom I myself nurtured and reared and gave as wife to her husband,  to Peleus, who was exceedingly dear to the immortals’ hearts; and all you gods took part in the wedding. And you among them partook of the feast, lyre in hand, you companion of evil, faithless forever.”

The Iliad, 24.55-64. Translation by Caroline Alexander.

Now, it is true that Hera nowhere says that Achilles didn’t suckle at Thetis’ breast, but it’s notable that she only emphasized Hector as having suckled at a mother's breast in the context of differentiating him from Achilles. The later tradition that Achilles wasn’t in fact nursed by Thetis in the way that children would normally be nursed by their mother may perhaps represent the possibility of this being the case in a Homeric context as well, though it remains speculative. But if this is the case, then Thetis's failure to nurse Achilles takes him out of a human state and brings him closer to a non-human state. Murnaghan (1992, pp. 245) states that “Hector's mortal heritage is identified specifically with his nursing at his mother's breast, as if he had taken in mortality itself along with his mother's milk” and adds “In the Homeric Hymn to Apollo, which tells the story of the god's birth, it is explicitly noted that Apollo's mother did not nurse him and he was fed nectar and ambrosia instead” (1992, pp. 255, note 6). Note that it isn’t about divine children never being breastfed and necessarily having only ambrosia in all possible myths, but it is about human children never being able to live without typically human nutrients.

Interestingly, as pointed out by Pedrucci (2017), in the best-known case of a goddess breastfeeding someone, divine milk possibly has the symbolic act of immortalizing the mortal character. In the story told by Diodorus Siculus in Library of History 4.9.4, the infant Heracles was exposed by his mortal mother Alcmene and rescued by his half-sister Athena. She then tricked Hera into breastfeeding him, unaware that he was an illegitimate son of Zeus. Later, the infant Heracles is depicted as being able to strangle the two serpents that Hera sent to kill him, and it is said that “Consequently the inhabitants of Argos, on learning of what had taken place, gave him the name Heracles because he had gained glory (kleos) by the aid of Hera” (4.10.1, trans. C.H. Oldfather), which may perhaps indicate the possibility that Hera's milk nourished him more than mortal milk would. But this is very much a speculation, as it is also entirely possible that Diodorus is simply referring to the fact that, had Hera not been constantly trying to kill him, Heracles would not have consistently proven himself superior to the challenges and thus achieved fame/kleos. What is less speculative, though, is that Hera still plays a prominent role in Heracles' immortalization, albeit unconsciously. Not only is she the one who forces him to face the challenges that will eventually grant him enough glory to make him worthy of an apotheosis, but she is also the one who gives Hebe in marriage to Heracles (Library of History, 4.39.2). By effectively marrying Heracles to Hebe, an Olympian goddess, Heracles' entry and, consequently, his apotheosis is strongly confirmed. In this sense, Hera's act of breastfeeding Heracles may not necessarily have given him immortal characteristics, but it could still have been a nod to how he would later be immortalized, representing Hera's role as a "stepmother" and thus a legitimizer of Heracles' deified status. In one epigram, Hera is even shown directly expressing her approval: "What Hera would say when Heracles was deified: Thy father, Heracles, has well rewarded thy valiant toil, since labor can bring to men unsurpassable renown after an infinite round of labors" (Greek Anthology, 9.468, trans. W.R. Paton). And her role as "stepmother" seems to have been recognized in antiquity, as she is referred to as a "second mother" by Lycophron (Alexandra, 31-37). If the mortality of Heracles' biological mother made him mortal, the immortality of his stepmother symbolically immortalized him.

Thus, if symbolically Hecuba's breast milk represents Hector's mortality and Hera's breast milk represents Heracles' future immortalization, it’s possible that Thetis's lack of breast milk represents Achilles's confused status. Before he was born, it was stated that Thetis's son would be a cosmic threat because he would be destined to surpass his father and, therefore, being the son of a god, he would surpass the gods and dethrone Zeus (Aeschylus's Prometheus Bound 907–927; Pindar's Isthmian Ode 8.36–45; Argonautica 4.799–804; Pseudo-Hyginus's Fabulae 54 and Astronomica 2.15.4; Quintus Smyrnaeus's Posthomerica 5.394; Scholia D 1.519). This was avoided by forcing Thetis into marriage with a mortal, and consequently, Achilles is no longer a cosmic threat, but a mortal threat for surpassing humans (Scholia D 1.519). At Thetis's wedding, Apollo prophesied a happy motherhood for her, though notably he is the one who kills Achilles and indirectly causes an unhappy motherhood for Thetis (Aeschylus frag 189, Plutarch's How a Young Man Owed to Hear Poems 2.16E, Eusebius's Preparation for the Gospel 13.3.647A). There was a prophecy that allowed him to live physically but die in memory since he would live an obscure life, or to die physically but live in memory since he would gain unfading glory (The Iliad, 9.410-420). Achilles' life is one of immense duality: he is neither mortal enough nor immortal enough, and even alive, his death is always looming in the air, and if he chose to live, he would die in memory. And I think perhaps there's a possibility that the absence of breast milk plays some symbolic role in this.

Regarding Achilles and milk, it’s interesting to mention that in The Iliad Achilles mentions the rumors/insults about him not having been fed with breast milk, but with bile:

Then when Achilles had drawn them up marshaled in good order with their leaders, he lay a strong injunction on them: “Myrmidons, let no one forget the threats  that you made by our fast ships against the Trojans during all the time of my wrath, when each of you blamed me: ‘Cruel son of Peleus, your mother nursed you on bile, pitiless one, who hold your companions against their will beside the ships. Let us go back home again in our sea-going ships since bitter anger has so fallen on your heart.’ In your gatherings you often said such things to me; but now looms the great task of battle, for which before you longed. Therefore each one of you with brave heart go to battle with the Trojans.”

The Iliad, 15.198-209. Translation by Caroline Alexander.

If the act of breastfeeding can symbolically represent something, then what does this insult — which distorts conventional breastfeeding — represent? Hawkins, who elaborates extensively on the relationship of bile to a physiological representation of intense anger or violent impulse in ancient Greek texts, suggests that the accusation that Achilles was nourished with bile is taken in a non-literal way. The point isn’t to assert that he was genuinely fed this way, but rather to allude to his temperamental behavior:

When Achilles harangues the Myrmidons just before Patroclus leads them into battle, he reminds them of a rumour that his troops had circulated as both a threat (ἀπειλέω, 16.201) to the Trojans and a criticism (αἰτιάομαι, 202) of Achilles himself. He says that each one of them (ἕκαστος, 202) as they were assembled together (ἀγειρόμενοι θάμ’, 207) had said (203–6):  ‘σχέτλιε Πηλέος υἱὲ χόλωι ἄρα σ᾽ ἔτρεφε μήτηρ, νηλεές, ὃς παρὰ νηυσὶν ἔχεις ἀέκοντας ἑταίρους: οἴκαδέ περ σὺν νηυσὶ νεώμεθα ποντοπόροισιν αὖτις, ἐπεί ῥά τοι ὧδε κακὸς χόλος ἔμπεσε θυμῶι.’ ‘Hard son of Peleus, your mother nursed you on cholos. Pitiless man—you hold your comrades back by the ships. So let’s head homeward with our seafaring ships, Since evil cholos has pounced upon your heart.’  The troops’ invective (reminiscent of Thersites’ allegations against Agamemnon, Il. 2.211–42) does not offer a full-blown physiological assessment of χόλος, but it does rely on an image of ingestion. The soldiers do not claim that Thetis actually had χόλος in her milk but, rather, that Achilles got his anger from an external source.37 The fact that such a dynamic was only dimly understood can be seen in the subsequent description of ‘evil χόλος’ pouncing upon Achilles’ heart. The active role that χόλος takes in that image derives from the vocabulary of daemonic experiences, such as attacks by Atê or the temporary loss of one’s wits at a critical moment in battle.

Iambus and Elegy: New Approaches — Anger, Bile, and the Poet’s Body by Julia Nelson Hawkins, pg 331-332.

In other words, it is possibly similar to Patroclus's behavior, who, to assert that Achilles wasnt being empathetic, said, "Pitiless one: your father was not the horseman Peleus, nor Thetis your mother, but the gray sea bore you and the wild cliffs, since your mind is unbending" (16.33-35). To emphasize Achilles's lack of empathy by not showing himself moved by the death of the Achaeans, Patroclus separated him from a common birth by declaring that he didn’t have a mother and father like other people, but was instead generated by nature itself. Similarly, to emphasize Achilles's temperament, the soldiers take away from him a common nourishment (breast milk) and replace it with something else (bile). In both cases, the insult is meant to affect Achilles by insinuating that he isn’t acting humanly or at least not being human in the same way as the others. In fact, Patroclus, when speaking to Nestor, even explicitly stated that he sees Achilles as temperamental (“Well do you know, old one, Zeus-cherished, the kind of man that one is; a man to be dreaded; swift would he be to blame even the blameless,” 11.653-654), which again reinforces that perhaps even among the Myrmidons, Achilles' image was indeed volatile. That is, even his own people (the Myrmidons) and the one he holds most dear (Patroclus) know there is something about Achilles. They may admire and love him regardless, but they are aware and they have no intention of pretending not to notice. Perhaps, who knows, this makes their loyalty even more impressive — Patroclus has the ability to not close his eyes to what Achilles is and still desire to have him entirely by his side.

Hawkins also points to a quote from Smith that clarifies the Homeric context of the word translated as bile. Smith's (1996, pp. 555-556) point is as follows:

Cholos is not precisely bile, and it is not, in the epic, associated with the liver, which in the medical writers filters the bile out of the blood and stores it. It is the emotion anger, or the cause of anger, kotos, and mênis. As such it is prominent in the Iliad and also in the Odyssey and probably many poems before them. The precise images with which it is presented allow us to characterize it: It comes into the body as part of the food (Il. 22.94); it is in the phrenes or kradia (Il. 16.203). When it is stimulated it rises up, aexei, like smoke, as Achilles says, and it overwhelms the senses until it tastes sweeter than honey (Il. 18.108–10). It makes a man angry, however wise he is — it controls his phrenes (Il. 9.436, 675, 14.207, 306). But at first cholos can be controlled — παῦσαι, ἔχειν, and σβεννύναι are used—or it can be digested, but once in control it runs its course. One may compare this with a later medical description of fits of madness which come from bile rushing in quantity to the head and overheating it — which effect persists until the bile is dissipated. The epic mênis and the medical mania retain much in common.

In other words, the intent of this rumor is that Achilles wasn't nourished with the safe comfort of mother's milk, but rather with anger. But analyzing Smith's words, we have more food for thought. According to him, the physiology of cholos is something that, while controllable, cannot be completely stagnated and requires effort. And, when uncontrolled, it circulates throughout the body, consuming those who feel it.  It's something bitter, that stays in the mouth, that is part of the body — like bile. And indeed, Achilles seems to tries to control it at times: he avoids killing Agamemnon because of Athena's advice, he doesn't take out his frustration on the men who come to fetch Briseis, he receives the embassy hospitably even though he doesn't intend to accept the offer, he waits for Thetis to return with her armor to actually fight, he reconciles with Agamemnon, he is willing to listen to Priam. The great dilemma, then, is how much he will allow himself to be consumed. The problem is that, even in his anger, Achilles is different. After all, what he feels is not merely cholos, but is specifically mênis — a term that, apart from Achilles, is only applied to gods in the Homeric texts, although the way in which Achilles exercises it still makes it clear that in the end he is a mortal because it differs from the mênis exhibited by gods in its development and conclusion.

The curious part is that Hanson (2003) argues that, in fact, Achilles logically couldn’t have been truly nourished by anger, as the Myrmidons' accusation of nursed with bile thing seems to imply. At least, not in a Homeric context. We are reminded that Peleus advised Achilles to be gentle and diplomatic; that Phoenix, similar in behavior to Peleus, was a second father to Achilles and was sent to Troy to advise him; that Patroclus is his closest companion who has already learned the price of anger and is supposedly wiser; and that Achilles grew up with the wisest of the centaurs, Chiron. Achilles is said to have had a typically ideal princely education, and such education included the self-control so revered by the ancient Greeks. In a Homeric context, therefore, it doesn’t seem likely that Achilles's externalization of anger was something inborn, but more likely that it was a skill developed on the battlefield. Being overcome by anger is reprehensible when we think of a prince who must lead the people, but if anger makes someone a more deadly warrior, it's no wonder it soon becomes a tool. It's still advisable to control it, because if it isn't, then it's no longer a tool, but a weakness. Could the moments we see Achilles restraining his anger be signs that, internally, he's aware of this? The feeling was probably there since childhood, but outsourcing only came with full force in war, and it's a dam constantly on the verge of breaking. And let's face it: it's easier to let the dam break than to rebuild it. By the end of The Iliad, however, Achilles is slowly rebuilding this.

But that's the exclusively Homeric context. What about later traditions, those that speak of feeding on Pelion? In an explanatory note, Hawkins (note 37) adds another possibility that the bile accusation is linked to an ancient proverb and also makes a connection with the tradition that Achilles was fed in a similar way to a wild animal:

37 By the Hellenistic period there was a strong tradition that Achilles had the diet of a wild animal, only eating raw guts and the marrow of wild beasts: Apollonius derives the name of Achilles from A-cheilê because his lips never touched the breast (Bibl. 3.13.6, ap. Hanson (2004) n. 5). Statius (Ach. 2.96–102) claims that Chiron’s diet for Achilles only consisted of ‘the vicious entrails of lions and the marrow of the half alive she-wolf ’, spissa leonum / viscera semianimisque lupae traxisse medullas. See Heslin (2005) 173–80. This tradition might be a result of the Homeric taunt that suggests that Achilles did not have a human diet. A fragment of Diphilus (ed. T. Kock, CAF ii, 74), however, does pun on the tradition of mothers putting χολή on their breasts to wean their infants, which suggests that perhaps the troops might have  teased Achilles based on a proverb about bile and weaning: ‘A: Angry? A parasite angry? B. No, but he applied some bile (χολή) to the table, weaning himself like children from their mothers’ milk.’ Cf. the nurse in Romeo and Juliet I.3: ‘And she was wean’d,—I never shall forget it,—For I had then laid wormwood to my dug.’ A combination of these various strands might suggest that the taunt is that Achilles was nursed on bile by a wild animal. Hanson (2004) 185 notes that Eustathius takes the taunt seriously as a commentary on Achilles’ body: ‘You used to suckle bile in place of milk and because of this your body has become compacted from bile’, tr. Hanson.

Crowe (2025, pp.31-32) argues that the tradition of Achilles' unusual diet serves purposefully to differentiate him from other human characters, to reinforce that he has something of a savagery internally.

At the same time in the Iliad as Achilles questions his own divinity, he also must grapple with his own savage nature. In Book 16 of the Iliad, when speaking to his men, Achilles makes reference to insults against him which insinuated his mother raised him on bile (Hom. Il. 16.203). This notion that what Achilles ate as a child effected how he acted in war would come back in Statius’s Achilleid when the hero gives a seventy-line speech about the way he was raised by the centaur Chiron. During this speech Achilles describes the kind of food he was reared on, “I am said in the time of both my tender and crawling years, when the Thessalian elder in his hard mountain received me, to have devoured no customary foods nor from nourishing breast satisfied my hunger, but to have torn the dense viscera of lions and the marrow of a half-dead she-wolf” (Stat. Ach. 2.96-100). Reference to Achilles’ childhood diet also appears in Pseudo-Apollodorus’s Bibliotheca, where the poet describes how Chiron fed the baby hero on the innards and marrow of savage beasts like lions, bears, and wild boar, naming him Achilles “because he had not put his lips to the breast,” that is to say Pseudo-Apollodorus creates an etymology of ἀ + χείλη for Achilles (Apollod. Bibl. 3.13.6). Yet the image of child Achilles being fed wild animals by Chiron can be traced as far back as a 7th century Attic neck-amphora which portrays Chiron bringing three live cubs to the infant Achilles (Corpus Vasorum Antiquorum, Berlin, vol. I, plate v = LIMC “Achilles” plate 21). Braund and Giles point to this early exposure of savagery to Achilles as a form of sympathetic magic, that through the early consumption of wild animals like wolves and lions, little Achilles took on some of their characteristics, becoming fearless, wild, and pitiless in battle.

Crowe (2025, pp. 32-33) clarifies that young Achilles' wild diet not only gave him physically superhuman characteristics but also isolated him from human society. While Hesiod asserted that the difference between humans and beasts is adherence to laws (Works and Days, 276-284), Achilles is seen constantly disobeying laws, whether formal or merely social. Examples cited by the author include disobedience to authority (Agamemnon, Apollo) and constant breaches of ancient Greek customs (refusing to fight even though it was expected of him as a soldier, refusing the supplicant Lycaon even though a supplication was expected to be accepted, dishonoring Hector's corpse even though this was considered a crime against divine law even in the context of war, and willingly performing human sacrifices even without a deity asking for it). Even the act of refusing to fight, turning away from the Greek army and living separately from them was suggested as a way to represent how Achilles distanced himself from human society, represented by the Greek army. Therefore, Achilles' supposedly atypical behaviors aren’t only seen as formidable in a battlefield context, they’re seen as isolating. And Achilles' unusual childhood diet would be a nod to this from an early age.

Crowe also points out that Achilles' imagery is repeatedly associated with the wild in The Iliad, being linked to dogs (the epithet "swif-footed" is given to both dogs and Achilles), wolves (Achilles is compared to the lupine star Sirius) and lions (repeatedly compared to one). While this reinforces his impressive ferocity and speed as a warrior, it also foreshadows the character's cannibalistic potential — a dangerous potential, since in the perception of the character's social context, that is, ancient Greek, cannibalism is a reprehensible and divinely punishable act. To illustrate his point, Crowe provides the example of how in The Iliad dogs are considered scavengers (constantly depicted eating corpses), Plato associated the wolf with an example of a tyrannical soul (Republic, 8.565d-566b), and, in the myth of King Lycaon, for committing the act of cannibalism, he is punished by transforming into a wolf (hence the term lycanthropy). Therefore, his direct association with such animals not only reinforces their superhuman capabilities, but also reinforces their potential to break the laws of their society, whether for good or for evil.

But if Crowe comments that in the later tradition there is a nod to a temperament nurtured from an early age and if Hanson argues that in the Homeric tradition there was no such nurturing, is there some possible consensus? Well, I believe it is possible. I think the nourishment offered by Chiron may imply that Achilles has savage potential, but without necessarily implying that he is already harmfully angry. It is indeed possible that, at younger age, he hasn’t externalize anger and focused on the self-control he was taught, as Hanson argues. After all, the savage isn’t only violence, rage and impulse. For example, it’s important to note that the association of Achilles' speed with the savage isn’t unique to The Iliad, nor is it inherently linked to death. As Nagy (1979, pp. 525) points out, Pindar made an association: “I find an interesting attestation in Pindar Nemean 3.43–66, a rare survival from the poetic traditions that had told about the boyhood deeds of Achilles. Here we see the {325|326} young hero killing lions and boars while armed with nothing but a spear (lines 46–47); in motion he is as fast as the winds (ἴσα τ᾽ ἀνέμοις: line 45), and his speed is such that he even outruns deer, hunting them down without the aid of hunting dogs or traps (lines 51–52).” A similar picture is painted by Euripides:

Chorus Achilles next, that nimble runner, swift on his feet as the wind, whom Thetis bore and Chiron trained, I saw upon the beach, racing in full armor along the shingle, and straining every nerve to beat a team of four horses, as he sped round the track on foot; and Eumelus, the grandson of Pheres, their driver, was shouting when I saw him, goading on his lovely steeds, with their bits of chased gold-work; the center pair, that bore the yoke, had dappled coats picked out with white, while the tracehorses, on the outside, facing the turning-post in the course, were bays with spotted fetlocks. Close beside them Peleus' son leapt on his way, in all his harness, keeping abreast the rail by the axle-box.

Iphigenia in Aulis, 206-230. Translation by E.P. Coleridge.

In both cases, Achilles' speed is wild, but it's free and powerful in a way that's not destructive. It makes sense, after all, Pindar is telling of a boy training on Pelion and Euripides is describing what is essentially a teenager playing. Neither of these Achilles is the one who uses his speed to chase Trojans. So perhaps Achilles' inner wildness isn't actually inherently negative? It can also be beautiful, childlike, impressive, relaxed, free — in a way that Achilles, in the tenth year of war, is no longer allowed to be. Perhaps, then, the idea that Chiron's atypical eating represents early wildness doesn't conflict with the Homeric context that Achilles may not have been nurtured to express his anger drastically.

Achilles's savagery and rage may be linked, but they are more nuanced than they seem to be. Achilles's interaction with food is also, in fact, nuanced. Despite the idea that his complicated history with breastfeeding and eating on Pelion points to an Achilles distant from idealized human society, Achilles is capable of interacting with food in a socially acceptable way. For example, in the embassy, we have two instances of this: Patroclus prepares food for the guests and Achilles sets the table (9.199-221) and Phoenix recounts how he used to feed Achilles as a child (9.485-491). Remarkably, all of them seem to associate food with emotional bonds, making it part of the construction of collective memories of affection and comfort. In other words, even if he didn't receive the comforting nourishment of breast milk as a baby, Achilles certainly found a sense of home in other foods in his life. Even though the beginning of his life hinted at a future that isolated him from others, Achilles still made attempts to not allow himself to be isolated — at least, to some extent.

If refusing to fight (1.292-303) and continuing to play music calmly even amidst the chaos (9.182-191) are generally interpreted as examples of Achilles isolating himself, the fact that he continues to eat Patroclus's food and still sees in it an emotional bond keeps him symbolically connected to what is human and, dare I say, alive in him. But, as we know, Patroclus dies. Depressed by his companion's death, Achilles laments that he can no longer eat Patroclus's food, saying, "Once it was that you yourself, evil-fated always, dearest of companions, set out a pleasing meal for me in my shelter readily and deftly" (19.315-317) and refuses to eat until Hector is dead (19.198-214, 19.305-308).

Odysseus argues that food is important for the living, whether in war or in mourning (19.215-237), and he is right. Achilles's refusal to eat is just one of many signs that he had always lived with the thought of being dead, and that this was nothing new to him, the gods or his loved ones:

Thetis told Achilles the prophecy of his death (9.410-420);

Apollo directly tells Patroclus that he and Achilles aren’t destined to witness the fall of Troy (16.704-711);

Antilochus, when telling of Patroclus's death, fears that Achilles will try to kill himself (18.32-34);

Achilles openly expresses the wish that he had never existed so that Thetis wouldn’t suffer the grief of losing him (18.77-93);

When thinking of the loss of Menoetius as a father, Achilles speaks of being destined to die in Troy, without returning to Peleus or being welcomed by Thetis, and, in this regard, being similar to the dead Patroclus (18.323-242);

Thetis tells Hephaestus that Achilles won’t return to Peleus, for he will die (18.428-443);

Achilles admits that he had plans for what would be done with Neoptolemus after his death, hoping that Patroclus would survive and take his place (19.326-333), and then reflects on how Peleus will react upon learning of his death (19.334-337);

The horse Xanthus, after Hera gives him voice, prophesies Achilles' death, to which Achilles replies that such a prophecy is unnecessary because he already knows his fate (19.404-424).

Hector reminds him of the prophecy about Achilles dying in the hands of Apollo and Paris, but Achilles doesn't care because death is already something accepted (22.355-375);

Patroclus speaks of being together in death while declaring that Achilles' fate is to die near the walls of Troy (23.69-92);

Other scenes.

Constantly, Achilles's imminent death isn’t a possibility; it is an undisputed truth. Stopping eating food isn’t only another way of trying to isolate himself from the other Greek soldiers in his grief while focusing on the idea of being satiated by blood, but it is also a way of connecting with the person he holds most dear: Patroclus. Patroclus is dead and won’t return, as is made abundantly clear by the way his shade cannot be embraced (23.99-108), but Achilles can still embraces him when he dies. He chose to die young to live a glorious life, but why live a life that no longer seems so glorious? Why continue when suddenly the promised kleos doesn't seem to be what he imagined? Achilles is obtaining undying glory and the immortalization of memory in exchange for living as a dead man — and the dead don't need to eat, neither "wild" food nor "conventional" food. No longer mortal or immortal, free or commanded, just nonexistent. No meals, no drinking, no getting up, until the moment of satisfying his hunger for Hector's blood, Achilles is living in an inactive state. In this way, Achilles' mourning is emphasized via his relationship with meals.

But Achilles' attitude toward the meal not only demonstrates his grief, which causes him to be inactive until the moment of revenge, but also demonstrates the activity inherent in his revenge. Neal (2006, pp. 32-33) mentions that the act of refusing to eat alone doesn’t occur in The Iliad with anyone other than Achilles, as the other characters only refrain from eating in groups. For her, this signals Achilles' separation from society: his attitudes have become individualistic. And separated from society, why follow social norms? While the other Achaeans are compared to carnivorous animals only in similes, Achilles directly expresses his desire for blood by declaring that he will only be satisfied with Hector's blood. Thus, by refusing mortal food and claiming to crave blood, Achilles demonstrates a transgressive hunger for a human. Not content with removing Achilles from society and bringing him closer to the bestial, the poet also brings him closer, albeit reprehensibly, to the divine. More specifically, to Ares, who, as a god of war, craves  for it — as evidenced by the epithet "insatiate of battle", used to describe both Ares and Achilles in the narrative. Ares, as we know, is treated by both mortals and immortals as reprehensible for representing the insatiably violent nature of war. Athena and Apollo called their brother "ruinous to mortals, murderous sacker of walled cities," while the poet, even at the beginning of the poem, says Achilles “inflicted woes without number upon the Achaeans" and in other instances uses the epithet "sacker of cities" to describe him. In his transgression, Achilles assumes the same epithet and the same lust for blood as a deity considered a bane to mortals. For Neal, “Achilles is a ravening hybrid, a man-beast-god driven by an all-consuming desire for the death and blood of mortals” (pp. 33). Thus, while in his inactive moment of sadness Achilles is merely distanced from mortals (refusing meal), in his active moment of anger Achilles is temporarily antagonistic to their ideals (hungry for blood).

As we know, Achilles enters the battlefield eventually. After numerous deaths, Achilles's savagery peaks in his confrontation with Hector, where the idea of cannibalism ceases to be a mere nod and becomes more real when Achilles threatens the other warrior with actual cannibalism (22.246-247), taking his comment to Odysseus that he won’t be satisfied with food but with blood to another level (19.198-214). It is common for Iliadic warriors to be associated with animals, but it is unusual for them to make such an association themselves. It’s the poet who compares them to such, not the warrior who declares his affinity with beasts. On the other hand, it is Achilles who directly compares himself to a lion to Hector (22.262-263). It is no longer merely stylistic, just imagery, but rather becomes something that symbolizes Achilles's constant struggle to maintain what is considered "humanly civilized" in him. And faced with Hector, he feels that perhaps he will let his rage consume him to the point where laws, whether mortal or divine, no longer matter to him. But while Achilles threatens to break his human bonds, he doesn't actually break them. He may even hint at cannibalizing Hector, but he doesn't do it. His humanity, represented here in food, isn’t completely corrupted by the crime (punished by the gods) of eating another human:

After their fateful contest, Achilles stands victorious as Hector begs him one last time to  honor his corpse and give it back to his family, imploring his killer “let me not by dogs be  devoured near the ships of the Achaeans” (Hom. Il. 22.339). Achilles’ reply is frightening in its  brutality “Implore me not, dog, by clasping knees nor by fathers. For would that my rage and  heart might urge me to eat your butchered flesh raw, for what you have done, yet surly there is no  man who shall ward the dogs from your head” (Hom. Il. 22.345-48). Achilles toys with the  thought of eating Hector, with cutting the meat off his bones and eating him raw, but notably, he  only wishes his μένος καὶ θυμὸς would bid him do it. The distinction between Achilles wishing  to eat Hector, and wishing his rage would drive him to it, is important; for as much as Achilles  loathes Hector, fantasizes about eating him, he cannot actually imagine cannibalizing Hector in  the literal sense, so he projects the act first onto the abstract idea of rage and heart, and then further onto dogs. It is this point at which Achilles realizes he cannot actually cannibalize  Hector, that the consumption of human flesh is the role of animals like dogs and not humans like  Achilles, so he projects his desires onto them in a more socially acceptable manner. By realizing  the full breadth of where his rage will carry him and the point where he can go no further, Achilles acknowledges his own humanity by abiding by the dietary restrictions set out in  Hesiod’s Works and Days. Achilles cannot bring himself to consume another human being, no  matter how much he may wish his anger would drive him to it, and he is thus confirmed as human.

Divine Achilles and his Raging Heart: Cannibalism in the Iliad by Luca Crowe, pgs 34-35.

And indeed, as Crowe argued, Achilles is human. He may have been somewhere between the human and the nonhuman, between the mortal and the immortal, between the living and the dead, but at the end of all this duality, he is human. Human enough that, despite cruel threats, he doesn’t comply. He broke many laws, it is true, but even Achilles has a limit, and cannibalism is one he isn’t willing to genuinely transgress. Phrases like "there are no pacts of faith between lions and men, nor do wolves and lambs have spirit in kind" (22.262-263) and "Would that my passion and spirit would drive me to devour your hacked-off flesh raw, such things you have done" (22.246-247) are ultimately just that: phrases. Threats never carried out. His desire is projected onto the dogs, for he is unable to cast aside his humanity enough to exercise desire himself — a desire that not even the dogs exercise, for Hector's body is divinely protected (23.179-191).

Achilles' rage may have pushed him to the limit of what is considered permissible for humans; indeed, it consumed him in a manner similar to that which the Myrmidons, through their comment about bile, accused him of being consumed. This rage caused him to violently kill countless people, to refuse a supplicant (21.97-136), to directly confront the god Apollo (22.14-24), to refuse Hector's wish for proper treatment of the loser's corpse (22.248-272), to repeatedly attempt to dishonor the dead Hector (23.1-23) and to commit human sacrifice on Patroclus's pyre (23.161-177). But by refusing to actually cannibalize Hector and recognizing that this can only be a fantasy, Achilles shows that he isn’t strange to what he does — he is aware that what he is doing isn’t truly permitted, not truly seen as ideally human. And by accepting this, he recognizes his identity as a human identity and embraces it. Others may not accept him as someone who acts entirely human, but Achilles sees himself as human. He may have actions that defy the gods, but he doesn’t have the arrogant feeling of seeing himself as one. And how could he? The kind of intimate relationship Achilles has with his own mortality, a relationship that defines him, isn’t something any god could have because it isn’t part of their condition. Achilles never tries to challenge the idea that he will die, instead he embraces it.

Having been sated by blood, his rage begins to subside until it is eventually controlled. As Smith had said, rage is a cycle that requires constant maintenance, and now Achilles is doing so. No longer hungry for blood, Achilles returns to accepting mortal food, even in groups. In this way, he is reintegrated into society, similar to how in Hymn to Demeter the goddess, who had stopped harvesting bountifully in response to the abduction of her daughter Persephone and thus alienated herself from divine society while living like a mortal in the house of Metanira, is reintegrated into Olympus by finally agreeing to allow the return of food when her request to recover her daughter is granted. Both characters (Achilles/Demeter) exclude themselves from their society (human and mortal/divine and immortal) through a food-related gesture (refusing to have meals/refusing to allow food to grow) while approaching a society they shouldn’t integrate into (divine in his assimilation with Ares and bestial in his assimilation with animals/mortal in her assimilation with Metanira and Demophon) because of mourning for a loved one (Patroclus/Pesephone). But after getting what they want (satisfying his hunger for Hector's blood/getting her daughter back), they return to interacting normally with food (returning to having meals/returning to allowing food to grow) and, therefore, are integrated into their natural society (human and mortal/divine and immortal). Just as Demeter's temporary resemblance to a human and mortal nurse is only an analogy, Achilles' resemblance to the divine is also just that: an analogy. The narrative reminds you that, no matter how unusual, destructive, and transgressive Achilles' hatred is, he is as mortal and human as the rest.

Days before Achilles was consumed by rage and subsequently controlled it, Odysseus accused Achilles of having forgotten his father Peleus's advice to be kind:

“O my friend, surely your father Peleus gave you instruction on that day, when he sent you from Phthia to Agamemnon: ‘My child, strength of body Athena and Hera will give you, if that is their will, but your great-hearted spirit is for you to restrain within your breast; friendship is far better; desist from strife that creates only evil, and they will honor you more, youths and elders of the Argives alike.’ So the old man instructed you, and you have forgotten. But even now stop, give up this heart-grieving anger [...]"

The Iliad, 9.251-260. Translation by Caroline Alexander.

But I don't think Achilles forgot. It seems weird to assume he forgot, when it's Achilles, who constantly remembers Peleus, that we're talking about. And indeed, I think that not for a moment was Achilles truly unaware of the limits. He's choosing which ones he'll risk transgressing and which ones he won't. Ironically, just as Smith said that the idea of anger was seen as a cycle in which you must constantly restrain violent impulses, Achilles is still capable of restraining himself. Thus, the Myrmidons' accusation that Achilles is so angry that he couldn't have been nourished by maternal comfort, but only by pure rage, isn't really true. Not because Achilles isn't capable of doing the unthinkable, but because he's capable of thinking even more unthinkable things and not doing them. Because, in his dual condition, he constantly defies the divine while escaping harsher punishments in a way that an ordinary human couldn’t, but is still subject to the rules to which mortals are subjected in a way that no immortal would be. And not only that, Achilles constantly chooses to keep returning to what is human and ephemeral.

Just as Odysseus accused him of forgetting to be kind and the Myrmidons accused him of being incapable of not being consumed by rage, Patroclus accused him (probably in a moment of temporary sadness and indignation rather than an truly thought) of being incapable of empathy, but this isn’t true. The idea that this isn’t true is reinforced by the encounter between Priam and Achilles, when the king comes to ask for his son's body back. We have an interaction in which Achilles welcomes Priam, accepts his pleas, returns Hector washed and allows Priam to sleep in his tent while hiding him from the Achaeans. But this is a post about food, so let's focus on food. In addition to these gestures, Achilles also wishes to share a meal with Priam (24.601). Achilles is the one who suggests the meal, reminding Priam of the importance of eating even when grieving, using Niobe as an example (24.576-620). In this way, he seeks to prevent Priam from experiencing the same isolation he did. Achilles was there, refusing to eat in mourning (rejecting society) and satisfying himself with something else (transgressing mortal and immortal laws). Now that he has learned his lesson, he doesn’t want Priam or anyone else to do the same, something Priam himself admitted he was actually doing when he said "But now I have tasted food and let gleaming wine down my throat; before I had tasted nothing" (24.641-642). Thus, Achilles doesn’t allow Priam to follow the same path of isolation and instead actively continues to integrate Priam into human society through the meal.

Part of the reason Achilles does all this is because Priam, to him, is like his father Peleus, but I think it's very probably that it is also connected to the character's internal development. In any case, what did Achilles show Priam if not empathy? Because he is capable of empathy, Achilles is able to understand his father's pain. Because he is capable of empathy, he is able to understand Priam's pain as a father. And because he is able to understand all of this, he is able to see Peleus in Priam and is able to see himself in Hector. A person completely incapable of empathy wouldn't do any of this, as they shouldn't be able to put themselves in another's shoes. And it is in relation to death that Achilles puts himself in their shoes. He understands the pain of grief that Peleus will have and that Priam is going through, and he understands that he will be the dead and mourning son that Hector is and that Patroclus was. Achilles' empathy in this scene is intrinsically linked to death in a brutally mortal way. He therefore exercises his empathy in the way a human does, even as he displays his apathy in a superhuman way.

So, to summarize the situation! Yeah, there are sources about Achilles' "strange" diet, especially about the lack of breastfeeding and a diet considered "savage" on Pelion. As for why this occurs, my interpretation is that, in Achilles' case, his interaction with food (and milk) informs us of the character's duality: too mortal for the gods and too immortal for humans, too alive for the dead and too dead for the living, too inhuman for human society and too human for the absence of civilization, too free for the laws and too imprisoned for pure freedom, etc. Achilles is aware that he will die, he is aware that he isn’t exactly like the others, he is even aware of the rumors about him. He isn’t ignorant in this regard. But he still tries. He tries when Patroclus cooks for him and Achilles sets the table. He tries when he remembers the tenderness of how Phoenix fed him. He tries when he refuses to commit cannibalism. He tries when he returns to eating. He tries when he shares a meal with Priam. In the end, he's still the boy who wasn't breastfed and who ate the entrails of lions and wolves instead of traditional meals — he's not like the others. His rage is harder to contain, and the consequences are more disastrous, for what he feels is a rage more than merely mortal, yet truly mortal nonetheless. But deep down, he still tries, regardless of the accusations that he didn't try. I don't think Achilles was completely successful in his attempts, but they existed. And the other characters may doubt his ability to behave socially acceptable to humans, but Achilles never doubted who he was. At every moment, he saw himself as both human and mortal, and he never saw himself as anything other than that. It is because he knows he is human that when he speaks to another human (Priam) he passes on the lesson. It's because he knows he's mortal that his lack of food is linked to his death, which in turn is foreshadowed by the death of Patroclus. It's because he knows he's not an animal that he can't cannibalize Hector. Therefore, I believe that Achilles' relationship with food demonstrates not only how dual the character is, but how the character himself found an identity that he accepted in the midst of this chaos.

Primary sources:

Homeric The Iliad. Translation by Caroline Alexander.

Hesiod, Works and Days, 276-28. Translation by H.G. Evelyn-White.

The Cypria, frag 14. Translation by H.G. Evelyn-White.

Hymn to Demeter.

Pindar, Isthmian Ode 8.36-45. Translation by Diane Arnson Svarlien.

Aeschylus, frag 189. Translation by H.W. Smyth.

Aeschylus’ Prometheus Bound 907-927. Translation by H.W. Smyth.

Aeschylus, Agamemnon, 349, 351 and 1625. Translation by H.W. Smyth.

Aeschylus, The Libation Bearers, 526-533 and 896-908. Translation by H.W. Smyth.

Euripides, Iphigenia in Aulis, 206-230. Translation by E.P. Coleridge.

Euripides, Andromache, 512. Translation by E.P. Coleridge.

Euripides, Bacchae, 677-703. Translation by E.P. Coleridge.

Euripides, Ion, 760-762, 961-962, 1490-1498. Translation by Robert Potter.

Euripides, The Suppliants, 815 and 1160. Translation by E.P. Coleridge.

Plato, Republic, 8.565d-566b. Translation by Paul Shorey.

Apollonius’ Rhodius, Argonautica, 4.799-812. Translation by R.C. Seaton.

Lycophron, Alexandra, 31-37. Translation by A.W. Mair.

Greek Anthology, 9.126 and 9.468. Translation by W.R. Paton.

Diodorus Siculus, Library of History, 4.9.4 and 4.39.2. Translation by C.H. Oldfather.

Pseudo-Hyginus’ Fabulae, 54. Translation by Mary Grant.

Pseudo-Hyginus, Astronomica, 2.15.4. Translation by Mary Grant.

Plutarch, How a Young Man ought to hear Poems, 2.16E. Translation by W.W. Goodwin.

Quintus Smyrnaeus, Posthomerica, 5.394. Translation by A.S. Way.

Scholia D, 1.519 and 16.36. Translation by R. Scott Smith.

Eusebius, Preparation for the Gospel, 13.3.647A. Translation by E.H. Gifford.

Secondary sources:

Crowe, Lucca, "Divine Achilles and his Raging Heart: Cannibalism in the Iliad" (2025). Student Research Submissions. 

Coccagna, Helen. Approaching the Ancient Artifact: Representation, Narrative, and Function (2014), chapter “Manipulating Mastoi: The Female Breast in the Sympotic Setting”.

Murnaghan, Sheila. “Maternity and Mortality in Homeric Poetry”. Vol. 11, No. 2 (Oct., 1992), pp. 242-264.

Pedrucci, Giulia. “Motherhood, breastfeeding and adoption: The case of Hera suckling Heracles”. Acta Ant. Hung. 57, 2017, 325–336

Smith, Wesley. “Physiology in the homeric poems”. Vol. 97 (1966), pp. 547-556.

Nagy, Gregory. “The Best of the Achaeans" (1979). 

Robertson, D.S. “The Food of Achilles”. The Classical Review, Vol. 54, No. 4 (Dec.,1940), pp. 177-180

Neal, Tamara. “Blood and Hunger in the Iliad”. Classical Philology, Vol. 101, No. 1 (January 2006), pp. 15-33.

Attempts to explain the Homeric Ariadne have also drawn on other, later sources. Another explanation for the motive for Ariadne's death is that she had been courted by the god Dionysus earlier with the permission of Minos and Ariadne herself, but later fell in love with the mortal Theseus and left with him. Jealous, Dionysus wanted to punishs her:

Though for a Hellenistic poet, Homeric reference may often seem inevitable and thus unremarkable, this is a particularly interesting intertext to choose because it points not only (directly) to Ariadne's abandonment by Theseus, but also to an aspect of her relationship with Dionysus which is largely mysterious, alien. Why does Artemis kill Ariadne, and what does ‘on the witness of Dionysus' actually imply? Pherecydes, as reported by the scholia on these lines of the Odyssey, comments that Artemis' reason for killing her is that she threw away her virginity (προεμένην τὴν παρθενίαν), yet this explanation appears alongside, and Wts ill with, the more familiar tale of Theseus leaving, Dionysus arriving, and the catasterism of her crown to mark their marriage. It is possible that the story hinted at here is one of an Ariadne who plays the part of transgressor rather than victim: already married, or promised, to Dionysus, she elopes with Theseus, only to have her joys cut brutally short by Artemis. If this hypothesis is correct, she would have a mythical partner in Coronis, who betrayed Apollo with Ischys when she was already pregnant by the god. When Apollo complained to his sister Artemis, she shot Coronis full of arrows. Did Ariadne, like Coronis, fail to be content with her immortal husband, proving in her way to be every bit as fickle as Theseus? But why, then, is Theseus not punished, while Ischys is either blasted by Zeus’ thunderbolt or shot by Apollo himself? I wonder if this version of the Ariadne myth might not have been just as mysterious in the Classical world, given the lack of any satisfying explanation to be found in the scholia. Whatever Ariadne’s relationship to Dionysus in the Odyssey, it certainly seems not to be the happy one [...]

Cretan Women Pasiphae, Ariadne, and Phaedra in Latin Poetry by Rebecca Armstrong, pgs 36-37.

Pseudo-Hyginus (1st century) tells of a version in which Liber (Dionysus) came to Minos, Ariadne's father, with the desire to have her. As a gift (I imagine it was a bride-price, gifts that suitors gave to the woman's guardians in order to marry her), he gave Ariadne a very beautiful crown. The beauty of the crown enchanted Ariadne, so she consented to Dionysus. However, she later gave the crown to Theseus, with the intention that its immense brilliance would help him find his way around the Labyrinth of Knossos.

[...]  But, as the author of the Cretica says, at the time when Liber came to Minos with the hope of lying with Ariadne, he gave her this crown as a present. Delighted with it, she did not refuse the terms. It is said, too, to have been made of gold and Indian gems, and by its aid Theseus is thought to have come from the gloom of the labyrinth to the day, for the gold and gems made a glow of light in the darkness.

Astronomica, § 2.5.1. Translation by Mary Grant.

He credits this version to Cretica, which from what I've seen is apparently believed by the academics to be by Epimenides of Crete (6th century BCE). It isn't exactly contemporary with The Odyssey, but certainly 6th century BCE is considerably early and the possibility of the reported version existing at the time of the Homeric poems has been brought up.

Although Pseudo-Hyginus doesn't tell us the outcome (in Homeric tradition, it's death), it's basically consistent that the reason Ariadne helped Theseus is that she fell in love with him, so it isn't impossible that, even though she was betrothed to Dionysus, she used the gift of courtship to help Theseus. Whether this action of Ariadne affected Dionysus in any way, Pseudo-Hyginus unfortunately doesn't give us enough information.

This version apparently was also know by Eratosthenes (3th century BCE), as the summary "Epitome Catasterismorum" about his lost work says:

This is said to be the crown of Ariadne, which Dionysus placed among the stars when the gods celebrated their marriage in the place called Dia. The bride received the crown from the Horae and Aphrodite and was the first to be crowned with it. The crown was said to be the work of Hephaestus and to be wrought of fiery gold and Indian gems. It is recounted that thanks to this Theseus was saved from the labyrinth, because it gave off light.

Catasterismi, 5. Translation by Matthew Robinson.

Pseudo-Hyginus, still in Astronomica, however, also says that, depending on the version, the crown was a gift from Venus (Aphrodite) and the Horae at the wedding of Ariadne and Dionysus (2.5.1), apparently part of the typical version in which Ariadne marries the god after being left on Naxos/Dia. Another version present in Astronomica is that the crown was a gift from Amphitrite to Theseus and a gift from Theseus to Ariadne (2.5.3). The idea that Amphitrite presented Theseus with a crown is older than Pseudo-Hyginus, as it is already mentioned in the poem Youths of Bacchylides (5th century BCE), in which Aphrodite is said to have given it to Amphitrite at her wedding to Poseidon. I remember reading in Giuliana Ragusa the interpretation that this crown given to Amphitrite for Theseus is a sign of how his erotic relationship with Ariadne is linked to victory, which if this is indeed the case only makes the erotic aspect of the intentions surrounding the crown even more obvious. In the most common version where Dionysus meets Ariadne on the island of Dia/Naxos, he also gives her a crown, which is placed in the constellations.

Overall, Ariadne's crown, regardless of who gave it to her (Liber/Dionysus, Venus/Aphrodite and Horae, Theseus), clearly represents an erotic and/or conjugal factor: Aphrodite gave the crown to Amphitrite because of her marriage with Poseidon, Theseus gave the crown to Ariadne and she became his lover, Dionysus gave the crown to Ariadne as a courtship or as a post-wedding gift, Venus and Horae gave the crown to Ariadne because of her marriage with Liber. I think it would be unlikely that Ariadne had no romantic pretensions towards Theseus, if apparently all versions surrounding this crown include the marital/courtship aspect. This makes Ariadne's act of giving this crown to Theseus in the version indicated above even more likely to have been done with romantic intentions, even though she was betrothed to Dionysus. 

Kind of a summary of the versions about the crown:

There was also another version of the story, recorded in the astronomical literature, in which Theseus lit his way through the labyrinth with a wondrous crown that he had received from Ariadne. For Dionysos had previously visited Crete with the intention of seducing her, and had given her this marvellous crown, which had been made by Hephaistos with gold and Indian jewels, and it shone in the dark, enabling Theseus to lighten the gloom of the labyrinth (and presumably escape without any need for the thread). In the usual tradition, as we will see, Ariadne first met Dionysos after leaving Crete with Theseus, and he gave her the crown at that later time when he took her as his wife. He was said to have placed it in the heavens after her death in any case, to become the constellation of the Northern Crown (Corona Borealis).

The Routledge Handbook of Greek Mythology by Robin Hard, 296.

Now, let's move on to the theory scenarios. Again, theories are theories: they aren’t confirmed statements, you can disagree.

I found a theory that attempted to combine the statement in The Odyssey that Ariadne was killed by Artemis it was what Dionysus wanted (11.321-225), the comment in the Homeric scholia that the reason for her death was that Theseus and Ariadne had sex in a sacred place (The Odyssey scholia, 2.11.2, 325) and this version in which Dionysus had already betrothed Ariadne before Theseus (Pseudo-Hyginus), but she still apparently courted Theseus:

By piecing together a few other references to Ariadne we can suggest what the original version of her myth may have been, before the transition from pre-Greek to Greek religion; and an examination of the reconstruction of this pre-Homeric version will bring some order to the difficult passages summarized above. Dionysus was Ariadne's first lover and gave her the golden crown that later became a constellation (Epimenides F. Gr. Hist 457 F 19- Vorsokr. 3 B. 25; Hyginus Astr. 2.5; Schol. ad Od. 11.322). He later accused her of sleeping with Theseus (Schol. ad Od. 11.325). Pausanias mentions a tomb of Ariadne in the temple of Cretan Dionysus at Argos (2.23). When we take these references into account, the story compounded from the hypothetical older, "original" (pre-Homeric) version (in which Ariadne would be a cyclical vegetation goddess) and the later, canonical version (where she was a mere heroine) reads: 1) Ariadne married Dionysus. 2) She ran away with Theseus. 3) Dionysus, betrayed, had Artemis slay Ariadne. The god could not permit his wife to abandon him for a mortal husband, albeit a hero. Artemis was in charge of chastity in general and known for cruelly punishing women who strayed from proper behavior (e.g. Callisto). It would be distasteful and ungallant to have the husband himself do the killing. 4) Dionysus came and reclaimed the deserted Ariadne.  [...]

Some Anomalies in the Myth of Ariadne by Robert Eisner, pg 176.

According to an epitomized narrative derived from Epimenides of Crete (FGH 457 F 19 = DK 3 B 25), Ariadne had a garland, given to her as a gift by the god Dionysus, who intended to seduce her. In N 2015.09.24 (§3) and elsewhere (as in N 2013:157), I had translated phtheirai as ‘to destroy’, but I now see that it would have been better to render this verb here as ‘seduce’, since the epitomized narrative goes on to say that Ariadne had been ‘deceived’ (ēpatēthē) by the gift, while Theseus was saved (sōthēnai) by the same gift, since the garland of Ariadne radiated for him a mystical light that helped him escape from the labyrinth. After Theseus and Ariadne eloped to the island of Naxos, as I go on to recapitulate the myth in N 2015.09.24, the mystical garland was turned into a constellation. By implication, the deception of Ariadne by way of the garland given to her by Dionysus is correlated with the salvation of Theseus by way of that same garland. By further implication, Ariadne had to die at Naxos, and what compensates for this death is the miraculous exaltation of her garland, which now becomes a constellation in the heavens.

On Ariadne, draft of a new Foreword to a 1970 work of Robert T. Teske on a latent divinity by Gregory Nagy.

I personally think that, considering the behavior of the gods when they feel betrayed and the way Dionysus himself tends to be vengeful, in this specific version it would make more sense for Theseus not to abandon her of his own free will, but for Dionysus to interfere (whether by killing her, kidnapping her, making Theseus abandon her) to prevent his bride from going with someone else. A god courting a mortal and that mortal using the gift of courtship to court another mortal could easily offend the god, I imagine. After all, apparently she wasn't a mortal that he just wanted to sleep with (as is the case with Zeus, who often has relations with a mortal woman and that woman later marries a mortal man and that's not a problem), he really wanted to marry her since he asked Minos' permission.

Finally, Pausanias (2nd century CE) reports on a large painting by Polygonotus (ca. 5th century BCE) and at one point talks about how in part of it Ariadne is seen sitting on a rock watching her sister Phaedra holding a rope. This part refers to the painting known as the Nekyia, which depicts the underworld when Odysseus visits it on the advice of Circe, featured in Book 11 of Homeric's The Odyssey (ca. 8th century BCE). The rope in Phaedra's hands, as Pausanias points out, is a clue to how she got there, that is, how she died by hanging:

The other part of the picture, the one on the left, shows Odysseus, who has descended into what is called Hades to inquire of the soul of Teiresias about his safe return home. The objects depicted are as follow. [...] Going on to the next part of the picture, you see very near to the man who is twisting the rope a painting of Ariadne. Seated on a rock she is looking at her sister Phaedra, who is on a swing grasping in either hand the rope on each side. The attitude, though quite gracefully drawn, makes us infer the manner of Phaedra's death.

Description of Greece, 10.28.1 and 10.29.3. Translation by W.H.S. Jones.

But an often overlooked part is that there is actually another significant dance in this myth! About this description of the shield of Achilles made by Hephaesthus because of Thetis’ request, the Homeric scholia (5th century BCE to 12th century CE) says:

He wrought a dancing floor on it, etc. (ἐν δὲ χορὸν ποίησε καὶ τὰ ἑξῆς) Hephaistos also carefully wrought on [the shield] a dance that has a similar arrangement of dancers as the one that was created by the inventor Daidalos for Ariadne in the city of Knossos on Crete. For the story is told that when Theseus traveled from Aphidnai to Athens, he arrived just as the tributes—the seven boys and seven girls—were being sent to Minos on Crete. The Athenians were performing this tribute as payment for the treacherous murder of Androgeos, Minos’ son, when he was taking part in the Panathenaia festival and kept winning. Anyways, they say that Theseus willingly enlisted with the those heading off, and when he got to Crete he caught the eye of Ariadne, Minos’ daughter. Because of this he was saved by the skill of Daidalos in the following way. Daidalos gave Ariadne a ball of thread and told her to give it to Theseus so that he could attach the end of the thread to the entranceway. That would allow him to unwind the ball as he entered the Labyrinth, and, once he overcame the beast, he would have a simple and easy way back out of the Labyrinth, which had a complex, interwoven set of passages out. When Theseus got out after overcoming the beast, he along with the other boys and girls weaved a choral dance for the gods in such a way that it reflected his intricate weaving in and out of the Labyrinth. It was Daidalos that came up with and created the practice of choral dance.

Scholia D, 18.590. Translation by Scott Smith et al.

Although this scholia is very late, it certainly drew from older sources. Hesychius (5th/6th century CE) knew about geranos dance and Theseus dancing in gratitude:

[...] The mention of the two "leaders" is amplified by Hesychius. A yeрavovλκós, he says (s. v.), is "the leader of the dance on Delos." The same lexicographer defines the geranos (s. v.) as "a dance," without further elaboration; and the Etymologicum Magnum (s. v.) glosses it merely as "a kind of dance."[...] [...] A somewhat corrupt gloss of Hesychius (s. v. *Aŋλkakòs ẞwμós) speaks of the "running around the altar on Delos in a circle, and being beaten," and says that Theseus began the rite, in gratitude for his escape from the Labyrinth. [...]

The Geranos Dance — A New Interpretation by Lilian Brady Lawler, pgs 113 and 115.

But there is more! Already in the Roman Era, Pollux (2nd century CE) said something similar:

Pollux (4.101) says that the geranos is danced κатà πλños, one dancer beside another in line, with "leaders" holding the end posi- tions on either side — ἕκαστος ὑφ ̓ ἑκάστῳ κατὰ στοῖχον, τὰ ἄκρα ἑκατέρωθεν τῶν ἡγεμόνων ἐχόντων. He says also that the followers of Theseus were the first to perform the dance, that they danced around the Delian altar, and that they imitated in their dance their escape from the Labyrinth.

The Geranos Dance — A New Intepratation by Lilian Brady Lawler, pgs 112-113.

From a similar period of Pollux, Plutarch (1st/2nd century CE) provides us with information about Theseus and the saved Athenians dancing in celebration of their freedom and the fact that they were alive:

On his voyage from Crete, Theseus put in at Delos, and having sacrificed to the god and dedicated in his temple the image of Aphrodite which he had received from Ariadne, he danced with his youths a dance which they say is still performed by the Delians, being an imitation of the circling passages in the Labyrinth, and consisting of certain rhythmic involutions and evolutions. This kind of dance, as Dicaearchus tells us, is called by the Delians The Crane, and Theseus danced it round the altar called Keraton, which is constructed of horns ("kerata") taken entirely from the left side of the head. He says that he also instituted athletic contests in Delos, and that the custom was then begun by him of giving a palm to the victors

Life of Theseus, 21.1-2. Translation by Bernadotte Perrin.

Plutarch credits this to Dicaearchus (4th/3rd century BCE, if this is Dicaearchus of Messana), indicating the existence of this myth in the Hellenistic Era. And indeed, we have a surviving source that confirms this! Callimachus (3rd century BCE), an author from Hellenistic Era, had already presented it in the Delian Hymn:

[...] Then, too, is the holy image laden with garlands, the famous image of ancient Cypris whom of old Theseus with the youths established when he was sailing back from Crete. Having escaped the cruel bellowing and the wild son of Pasiphaë and the coiled habitation of the crooked labyrinth, about thine altar, O lady, they raised the music of the lute and danced the round dance, and Theseus led the choir. Hence the ever-living offerings of the Pilgrim Ship do the sons of Cecrops send to Phoebus, the gear of that vessel.

Hymn to Delios, 307-315. Translation by A.W. Mair.

We have also a visual representation on the famous François Vase, which is supposed to date from around the 6th century BCE. Although the context isn’t fully known (I’ll explore this later), a dance is depicted and the names next to the characters indicate the connection to the myth of the Minotaur. For example, one of the girls is named as “Ariadne”.

François vase: details of Theseus’s Cretan adventure. Photo courtesy Soprintendenza per i Beni Archeologici della Toscana. Retired from Guy Herdeen, pg 493.

François vase (Firenze, Museo Archeologico Nazionale): Top Friezes (sides A & B). Drawing reproduced from A; Furtwängler, Griechische Vasenmalerei, München, 1900/1993, plate 13. Retired from Sara Olsen.

One interpretation is that the vase was intended to be the dance performed on Delos by Theseus and the Athenians, mentioned by Plutarch:

One prominent element in the representation of Paris appears as yet unmatched in the metaphor: just how appropriate is the image of Paris as a dancer trying to fight to the metaphor of the cranes attacking the Pygmies? In fact, γέρανος ‘crane’ is the name of the famous dance performed on Delos by Theseus, Ariadne, and the Athenian youths and maidens on their return from Crete. In nature, cranes actually do perform a remarkable group dance all year round, [56] and their symbolic attributes in the Greek bestiary are especially appropriate to the context of the Theseus myth, as Marcel Detienne has shown: the γέρανος dance, which is consistently described as imitating the entry into or the passage from the labyrinth, is, like Ariadne’s thread, an invention of Daidalos. [57] But in form and function both the thread and the dance recall Greek descriptions of the two-headed, twisting line of flight made by cranes migrating from the ends of the earth and back. [58] In epic, the dancing-place on Akhilleus’ shield (cited above, 86–87) is explicitly likened [59] to the one Daidalos contrived for Ariadne in Crete, and the scholia identify the dance being performed by the ἠΐθεοι καὶ παρθένοι ‘adolescents and maidens’ on it as one performed on Crete {91|92} imitating the twists and turns of the labyrinth. [60] In fact, the scholia may be correct: this may actually be the dance called γέρανος that was later performed on Delos (see the discussion below). [...]

The Simile of the Cranes and Pygmies: A Study of Homeric Metaphor by Leonard Muellner.

There is, however, the problem of Ariadne's presence, as literary sources indicate that she was left on Naxos/Dia, that is, she wasn’t present on Delos:

Confirmation that the scholiast was reporting a well-known version of the myth comes from the François vase (ca. 570). One scene on this vase shows Theseus with a lyre leading the fourteen youths in a dance formation, as they alternate by sexes and hold hands. Ariadne stands facing the chorus and holding out a ball of string to Theseus. The old theory that this scene represents the dance on Delos mentioned by Plutarch has been conclusively refuted by Johansen. He cites the presence of Ariadne, who in all accounts of the myth was abandoned or killed before Theseus reached Delos, as well as parallel representations on other vases, to show that the painter of the François vase was depicting the liberation dance of Theseus and his companions on Crete the very same scene that the scholiast reports Homer was describing on Achilles' shield.

Homer and Ariadne by Kathryn J. Gutzwiller, pg 35.

On the other hand, there are those who think that it is a dance performed in Crete (hence the presence of Ariadne) and that it could represent the post-defeated moment of the Minotaur, as described in the Byzantine scholia — I won't present the arguments here because I imagine you can already imagine what they are, that is, ancient literary sources like scholia. However, Guy Hedreen interprets the possibility that François Vase shows the dance at the beginning of the arrival in Crete as an establishment of the relationship between Ariadne and Theseus, and not a post-triumphal dance as is the case in the literary sources:

Although the François vase clearly depicts Theseus leading a dance upon his arrival on Crete, most commentators have argued, on the basis of literary accounts, that Kleitias intended to depict a later moment in the story. The dance upon arrival, however, has several discursive functions within the image: by characterizing Theseus as the choregos of a dance traditionally performed by marriageable young people, it presents him as a promising husband for Ariadne; and by evoking the triumphal ritual arrival of Dionysos, the image anticipates that Theseus will be victorious. In this image, mythical narrative, spectacle, and the socialization of adolescence are carefully woven together. [...] [...] On the level of the narrative logic that governs the tale of the Cretan adventure, it would be premature to celebrate a victory dance before the victory has occurred. On the discursive level, however, Greek pictorial art often takes advantage of the possibilities of analeptic or proleptic allusion. Narrative art relies on the viewer to relate the elements of an image to the appropriate actions, characters, or logic in the underlying story, reformulating the story when necessary to account for the pictorial features. Many scholars have rightly connected the triumphant gestures of the sailors on the François vase with Theseus’s impending triumph over the Minotaur. It does not follow from the gestures, however, that the triumph has already occurred. Of greater interest are the ways in which the particular characterization of the dance contributes to the narrative intelligibility of the image. First, by depicting Theseus, at the moment when he first meets Ariadne, as the leader of a mixed dance of adolescent boys and girls, Kleitias offers an explanation of Ariadne’s decision to help him. The explanation operates at the level of the narrative as well as that of the discourse: putting ourselves in Ariadne’s place, we can appreciate why she might have decided that Theseus was an attractive (if risky) candidate for marriage. Kleitias conveys this idea by characterizing the choral dance on the vase as the sort of dance performed at a particular point in Greek life, the moment when adolescents begin to identify themselves as potential spouses, and “focalizes” it through Ariadne by making her a spectator of Theseus’s performance. By depicting the dance in this way, Kleitias has effectively imported into his visual narrative connotations of fitness for marriage. [...] [...] Kleitias represented the arrival of Theseus on Crete as a triumphal, mixed-gender dance for the sake of the connotations that those forms of dance contribute to the narrative potential or intelligibility of the image. Although it is possible that Kleitias was the first person to introduce choral dance into this heroic legend, there are good reasons to think that he has taken an existing element of the underlying story, the creation of the geranos by Theseus, and reconfigured it in the manner described here. In either case, the resulting image sets up a relationship between Theseus’s Cretan adventure as a myth and one particular form of ritual associated with marriage as a rite of passage. [...]

Bild, Mythos and Ritual: Choral Dance in Theseus' Cretan Adventure on the François Vase by Guy Herdeen, pgs 491 and 506-507.

More about the courtship possibility:

Of course, already about 570 BCE, with the explosion of mythical themes in Attic vase-paintings Theseus becomes a prominent figure in them. In the François vase he appears twice. In his Cretan exploit (fig. 5.5) the ship that brought the fourteen Athenian boys and girls who were to be Minotaur’s victims is landing; the gestures of the ship’s crew look like lamentation, while Theseus, richly gowned, is playing the lyre and leading the dancing young Athenians as he approaches Ariadne. She stretches out her hand holding a wreath and the ball of wool with the thread that will show him the way into the labyrinth, while her nurse, apparently uneasy about the happenings, gesticulates vividly. Theseus is wooing Ariadne (the wreath she holds might be his love gift) and she is responding; so it seems he will get her help and save the young Athenians from the Minotaur: an appropriate deed for the polis-hero. That there is no consistent rendering of time and place is not unusual:  the vase-painters choose instead to represent what they deem characteristic for the story

Innovations and Inventions in Athens c. 530 to 470 BCE – Two Crucial Generations by Marion Meyer, pg 105.

About the context, Sarah Olsen draws similarities between Apollo and Theseus to reinforce his role as the leader of the chorus of dancers, as the choregos, and also presents the interpretation that François Vase demonstrated the moment of the creation of the dance:

I have argued that reading the sailors in relation to the central dancing figures illuminates how this image conceptualizes choral performance as an activity distinct from the motion and physical activity of ordinary life. I turn now to the right side of the image, to consider how Theseus relates to the dance. Theseus stands with his back to the fourteen dancers, his body turned towards Ariadne. His stance recalls that of the other dancers – left foot forward, body twisted. Yet he is also clearly distinguished by his long garment and lyre. I argue that this instrument is a particularly important symbol of Theseus’ role in the dance, marking his role as both choregos, the internal leader of the dance, and choreographer, the external creative author of the choral production. As choregos, Theseus is both a participant in and leader of the chorus. On the François vase, his position at the head of the line of dancers marks him as a leader, while his stance and physical orientation, like that of the other fourteen youths, marks him as a dancer. In his later account of Theseus as a choral leader, Plutarch describes Theseus as both dancing and leading when he says: ἐχόρευσε μετὰ τῶν ἠϊθέων χορείαν ([Theseus] “danced a dance with the youths,” Thes. XXI) – Theseus is explicitly dancing himself, yet he is accompanied, implicitly followed, by the other youths.

The Homeric Hymn to Apollo, a roughly contemporary literary source, helps to further illuminate Theseus’position here. In the final episode of the hymn, Apollo leads a group of Cretan sailors in a choral procession to Delphi, intending to install them as priests of his newly-founded shrine (Homeric Hymn to Apollo 453-547). The poet describes Apollo thus: ἦρχε δ᾽ ἄρα σφιν ἄναξ Διὸς υἱὸς Ἀπόλλων, φόρμιγγ᾽ ἐν χείρεσσιν ἔχων ἐρατὸν κιθαρίζων καλὰ καὶ ὕψι βιβάς∙ […] “And lord Apollo, son of Zeus, led them, holding a lovely lyre in his hands , playing well and stepping high (515-517).” Like Theseus on the François vase, Apollo is marked by a combination of lyre-playing and performance leadership. His high steps (ὕψι βιβάς) do not suggest ordinary movement – he is certainly dancing in some loose sense of the word. Yet he also holds an instrument in his hands, thus providing both the choreography and the musical accompaniment required for the procession. For the Athenian youths depicted on this frieze, Theseus plays a similar role. The orientation of the dancers’ bodies implies that they are following his physical lead, while his lyre presumably offers the aural component of their performance.

Yet Apollo, in his hymn, is more than just an internal choregos. He is also a choreographer – a producer of choral performance who brings his own vision to life through the bodies of the dancers. He leads the Cretans to Delphi for a very specific purpose, and uses his choral leadership to orient them towards the shrine and generate a model for future ritual procession. A choreographer, in this sense, is one who orchestrates the process of ritualization through choral performance. Theseus’ leadership and lyre indicate that he, too, may be more than an internal choregos of some previously established choreography. His leadership extends to the creation of the dance itself, the invention and instantiation of a new ritualized performance. As I argued in the first section of this essay, the contrast between the sailors and the dancers is consistent with the process of ritualization, the formalization and unification of bodily motion that allows dance to create group cohesion without overriding all individual distinctions. The iconography of Theseus on this frieze further suggests that this ritualization process begins with the choreographer: the figure holding the lyre and setting the steps of the dance. Thus, if we read this frieze from right to left, Theseus strums the lyre and initiates the dance, while the dancers embody a sense of communal activity and identity without the loss of personalizing details. Phaidimos, as the final dancer, is only just becoming a choral participant: his body not yet like the others, but nearly there. The sailors, on the far left, remain as spectators, still engaged in the disordered, non-ritualized motions of ordinary life. The uppermost frieze of the reverse side of the François vase thereby depicts a moment of choreographic creation: the initiation of a ritualized performance.

Conceptualizing Choreia on the François vase: Theseus and the Athenian Youths by Sarah Olsen, paragraphs 22-29.

It has been suggested that although the geranos dance probably existed for a considerable time, it wasn’t always associated with Theseus and that this association possibly had an Athenian origin, since Theseus was the national hero. Ben S Cassel addresses this in “The Thesean Ritual Landscape: Appropriation, Identify and Athenian Collective Memories” and I recommend reading at least those pages 243-245 if you are interested in this political context. She also argues for the symbolism of cultural maintenance in memory and other religious aspects.

Another factor is that, because The Iliad depicts a dance between young people of different genders and uses Ariadne as a comparison, it has been theorized that perhaps it was the poet's intention to allude to this myth. Although we cannot be certain, if this were indeed the case, it would place it as an element already present in the archaic period. Lawler (pgs 113-114), however, thinks that the dance described by Homer doesn't match the descriptions of dancing performed by Athenians in later sources. From a similar period (7th century BCE) there is the vase attributed to Analatos Painter, which depicts people of different genders dancing. There have been attempts to connect this with the possible Theseus myth, but the lack of names and the fact that the leader uses a flute and not a lyre (as is more typical of Theseus), has led to disagreement. It has been argued that the lyre might be a later development and therefore would not prevent Theseus from using a flute, but at present this vase is quite uncertain (Gutzwiller, pgs 35-36).

Furthermore, regarding the lyre in Theseus' hands, the idea of ​​a lyrist Theseus is present in ancient literature. To cite, Pausanias (2nd century CE) and Pseudo-Hyginus (1st century):

[...] There is Theseus holding a lyre, and by his side is Ariadne gripping a crown. [...]

Description of Greece, 5.19.1. Translation by W.H.S. Jones.

[...] In this connection, too, some have said that the Lyre, placed nearest this sign, is the lyre of Theseus, for he was skilful in all the arts and seems to have learned the lyre as well. This, too, Anacreon says: Near Theseus, son of Aegeus, is the Lyre.

Astronomica, 2.6.3. Translation by Mary Grant.

About Pausanias, Lawler comments “the general context here is of a dance, but there is no detail” (pg 113). In this sense, Pausanias was possibly making some sort of reference to a myth involving dance, one that included Ariadne. In addition to the François Vase, there are other visual representations in a cup by Oltos/Euphronios/Kachrylion (there are differents attributions) that include a boy, a girl and a lyre, similar to how Pausanias saw them depicted (Pausanias was describing a visual representation on the chest of Kypselos). Because of the resemblance, it has been suggested that they could be Theseus and Ariadne:

However, the London Oltos cup is considered here not solely for the abduction scene on the obverse, but for its other scenes as well. The tondo (pl. 41, fig. 3), as stated above, shows two confronted figures — a long- haired, beardless male playing a lyre at the left, and a young female holding a flower at the right. He is wreathed and wearing a himation. She wears a chiton and mantle, fillet, earrings, bracelet and sandals, and as she draws up her skirt, looks strikingly like an archaic kore. The inscription, emanating from the mouth of the youth, is no aid to their identification, for it reads simply "Chaire su." Beazley has suggested that the figures are Theseus and one of the maidens rescued from Crete, and cites the François vase as a comparison. If this analogy is apt, then surely we are dealing with Theseus and Ariadne, as suggested originally by Murray. The two are occasionally paired in earlier Greek art, and Theseus' traditional attribute in such depictions is the lyre. A mythological interpretation of this scene has been opposed by Greifenhagen who cites the facts that the figures are not labeled as on the obverse, and that on the Oxford cup (pl. 40, fig. 2) mentioned above (where, we might add, the mythological figures are also not labeled), the tondo filler is a mere hetaira. He, therefore, doubts that the pair by Oltos are anything other than singer and girlfriend. However, here there are no accoutrements denoting the banquet, as one finds on the Oxford kylix (ladle and cup) and elsewhere in such scenes. Also, the fancy apparel of the girl and her flower suggest more than genre. [...]

The Loves of Theseus: An Early Cup by Oltos by Jenifer Neils, pg 178.

Theseus and Ariadne. Attic red-figure cup, ca. 510 b.c., attributed to Euphronios. London, British Museum E 41 (GR 1837.6-9.58). Photo © Trustees of the British Museum. Retired from Guy Hedreen, pg 498.

It has been theorized that before the depiction of a man with a lyre and a woman became popular in Greek iconography in general without necessarily having any connection to myth, perhaps it was initially intended to represent Theseus and Ariadne (Hedreen, pg 409). In any case, this cup is from a period when the Athenians seemed interested in using the entire length of the object to tell a relatively linear story rather than myths of different characters. Considering this, there is also the factor that the other parts of the cup seem to indicate other Theseus myths involving women, hence the possible identification of Theseus and Ariadne.

Geranos dance is also commonly called the "crane dance" (although some have questioned whether the translation is actually "crane", see Lawler pg 117), and the dance is mentioned by Lucian of Samosata (2nd century CE) in his text "Dance". Although the mention is brief and Lucian doesn't give many details, he later cites inspirations for the dancers, one of which is "the wanderings of the island Delos" (trans. Fowler), a location heavily referenced in the sources.

I don't usually read retellings or watch adaptations, so I don't know what the adaptations of the Andromeda myth are like. So, I won't focus on that and will think more about the aspect of what we can learn about Andromeda from the myths. I think that even with Euripides and Sophocles gone, we have enough hints about Andromeda's psyche. So, this post will be more me arguing in favor of the following things:

1) Andromeda wasn't a character adept at self-sacrifice;

2) Perseus saved Andromeda, if not out of love, at least out of passion;

3) At some point, the feeling was reciprocal;

4) The marriage wasn't disadvantageous to Andromeda.

Details:

I usually include the secondary source details (author, page, title) at the time I cite them, but in this case I'll try another organization. As for primary sources, I obviously didn’t include all of the Greco-Roman primary sources for Andromeda. Also, Sophocles' play is notably absent because, unlike Euripides' play, the surviving fragments do not give us enough insight into the character's psyche.

Sometimes the post will tend to other characters, but that's because I feel they will be useful examples of my opinion (in this case, sacrificial characters besides Andromeda). Note that, since the focus is STILL Andromeda, I won't go into too much depth on them and will use them in a more simplistic way. So if someone thinks "well, but the context of this character is much more complex and..." yeah, but the character isn’t the focus. It's just an example.

And as always, a typical warning in case someone who doesn't follow me reads this post... it’s a hobby post. My posts are huge, yes, but they're all purely for entertainment. This is an opinion post. Lotus Anon wanted to talk to me about the subject, I'm just "talking" so to speak.

ANDROMEDA: WILLING OR UNWILLING SACRIFICIAL MAIDEN?

When I received this ask, I at one point wondered what the oldest literary source of Andromeda had to say about her since you mentioned the article theorizing about oldest version with a visual source. When I was trying to remember, I got the impression that there was an apparent Andromeda absence in ancient literary sources — absence not in the sense of necessarily not existing at the time, but of not being mentioned — even when Perseus, her husband, is mentioned. The oldest literary source of Perseus is The Iliad, since the Homeric text presents an episode in Book 14 known as the seduction of Zeus by Hera, who intended to distract him (sexually) and put him to sleep with the help of the god Hypnos in order to give the Achaeans an advantage in the Trojan War. At one point, Zeus compares Hera to the other women who attracted him, claiming that none of them attracted him more than Hera was attracting him at that moment. Among them, he cites Danae as saying “nor when I desired Danaë of the shapely ankles, daughter of Akrisios, who bore Perseus, conspicuous among all men” (14.319–320, trans. Caroline Alexander). Also, “Sthenelos, son of Perseus” is identified when describing Hera’s intervention in the birth of Heracles (19.97–144). The Iliad, however, doesn’t give the heroic Perseus who saves his mother and future wife, but rather gives his genealogy — maternal grandfather Acrisius, mother Danae, father Zeus, son Sthenelos. Consequently, Andromeda isn’t actually mentioned, although it could perhaps be argued that she is implied since Sthenelos in later sources is explicitly the son of Andromeda. A text usually attributed to Hesiod had already demonstrated the heroic aspect of the Perseus myth by describing him dealing with the Gorgon sisters in the Shield of Heracles (216–236, trans. H.G. Evelyn-White), although Andromeda was still notably absent since her sacrifice wasn’t the theme, but rather the killing of the Gorgons. In later sources it was specified that Perseus was meant to protect his mother, although the Shield of Heracles doesn’t make this explicit, so perhaps it could be argued that Perseus as protector of his family was already implied. 

Then I noticed that, although Andromeda is apparently absent in these older texts, the idea of ​​a virgin being sacrificed isn’t completely absent. In the Homeric texts, there really isn't much to be said. Polyxena is never acknowledged as existing, and consequently her sacrifice isn’t a theme — something that Pausanias, in Description of Greece 1.22.6, seems to think was intentional on the poet's part. Iphigenia is also never directly mentioned, and her existence in the Homeric tradition is a matter of debate, with some arguing that a speech by Agamemnon (1.101-120) indicates that Calchas had previously asked him to sacrifice Iphigenia, others arguing that Iphinassa is Iphigenia and therefore Iphigenia is alive (9.144-145), and finally, there is further debate as to Clytemnestra's motivation for murdering Agamemnon in The Odyssey — Cassandra is certainly a catalyst, judging by Book 11, but in the Homeric tradition is Iphigenia supposed to be a catalyst as well? For all intents and purposes, however, Iphigenia is still not explicitly mentioned in any of these narratives, regardless of the debates. But, according to Pausanias, the Hesiodic Catalogue of Women apparently already alluded to the sacrifice of Iphigenia although he apparently went with the version in which she isn’t literally killed (frag 71) and the lost poems of the Epic Cycle apparently also already acknowledged the maidens sacrifices — Proclus' summaries of The Cypria and The Sack of Ilium (considered frag 1 of each epic) indicate that in the first epic there was the sacrifice of Iphigenia and in the second there was the sacrifice of Polyxena. Thus, even if the myth of Andromeda isn’t explicit in the sources, the trope of the sacrificed virgin already was.

Ironically, it’s as if Andromeda's essence is here, but Andromeda herself isn’t. Perseus, her husband, and Sthenelos, her son, exist, but she isn’t mentioned. The virgins are being sacrificed, but we don’t hear of Andromeda's sacrifice. Looking for any signal of her in literary sources, I felt as if I were getting hints of Andromeda in Archaic Greece, but not the real thing. Or at least, that is what I thought when I checked the Evelyn-Hugo edition of the Catalogue of Women in the Theoi... I later found the detail that fragment 135 MW is also listed as being in the Hesiodic Catalogue of Women and contains a reference to Andromeda:

... Abas; and he be[got a son,] Akrisios.... [Pe]rseus, whom... [in a che]st into the sea... [b]rought up for Zeus... gold... dear Perseus... [and from him and] Andromeda [daughter of] Kepheus [were born Alkaios] and [S]thenelos and the force [of Elektryon]... by the cattle... for [the Te]leboai... [A]mphitryon  

Translation by Silvio Curtis, retired from gantzmythsources. Note that the parts “[]” are reconstructions and “...” are lacunas.

So, a literary confirmation of the existence of Andromeda in Archaic Greece! Although her myth hasn’t been preserved in this part, the mention of her marriage to Perseus seems to be a nod to her sacrifice, rescue and consequent marriage. Considering that the edition of Theoi is from 1914, I imagine that this fragment doesn’t appear in it because it was added to the fragments of the Catalogue of Women in some later year of the academic research that tries to reconstruct it. I saw that West (1985) had already commented on this fragment, although he was particularly interested in the geographical and genealogical aspects and, therefore, it isn’t useful to me because I’m trying to get clues about the psychological aspect of Andromeda. I saw that many also argued in favor of the myth of Andromeda having foreign influences, but the uncertainties of the more complex parts of these theories don’t give me many clues about what this means for the character's psychology and says more about the narrative and visual elements of the myth. In short, all this only attests to Andromeda's existence, but gives us nothing about her thoughts.

Ogden (2008, p. 67–68) has commented on the earliest visual source attesting to Andromeda. It’s the Corinthian black-figure amphora of ca. 575–50 BC, which places it as a 6th century BC source. It’s possible to identify it because the inscriptions of the characters have been preserved, indicating the names Cetus, Perseus, and Andromeda. However, Perseus' usual weapons — the head of Medusa or a sword — are notably absent, and he actually appears to be throwing stones at Cetus. I imagine this is the pottery you were talking about, nonnie! It really does exist!

Perseus rescuing Andromeda from the monster at Joppa. Late Corinthian amphora, second quarter of the sixth century BC. Berlin F1652. Drawing by author. See here.

This pottery had already been mentioned by Philips (1968, p. 1), who interpreted Andromeda's drawing as an indication of her excitement:

Perseus in his role as savior of Andromeda is known as early as the first half of the sixth century B.c. on a late Corinthian amphora now in Berlin (pl. I, fig. I). Here, with neither the Gorgon's head nor his harpe, he seems to throw stones at a long-tongued monster while Andromeda gesticulates in excitement. Each character is named. 

If we follow this interpretation, it would make one of the earliest sources of Andromeda an indication of her happiness at being rescued, which could imply her uncooperativeness with the sacrifice. Looking at the figure, it’s interesting that although Andromeda is behind Perseus, she appears to be holding more rocks. This could indeed imply that Andromeda is actively helping to defeat Cetus, which again would indicate her opposition to being sacrificed and her willingness to receive help. The detail that one of the earliest sources of Andromeda depicts her as opposing her sacrifice is significant, as there is nothing to prevent other lost contemporary sources from having followed the same logic — in fact, it’s much more evident from the later surviving sources.

As for Andromeda's cooperativeness in her sacrifice, a emphasized element in her myth is the way in which Andromeda was intended to be sacrificed. Several texts, both Greek and Roman, described how she was chained, for example:

Euripides’ Andromeda — “Do you see? Not in dancing choruses nor among the girls of my age do I stand holding my voter’ funnel, but entangled in close bounds I am presented as a food for the sea monster Glaucetes, with a paean not for my wedding but for my binding. Bewail me, women, for I have suffered pitiful plight—O suffering, suffering man that I am!—and other lawless afflictions from my kin, though I am implored the man, as light a lament filled with tears for my death”, frag 122. Loeb edition.

Ovid’s Metamorphosis — “They bound her fettered arms fast to the rock”, Book 4. Translation by Brookes More.

Ovid’s Ars Amatoria — “What was less hoped for by Andromeda, in chains”, Book 3. Translation by A.S. Kline.

Lucian’s Dialogue of the Sea — “Andromeda, fettered to a jutting rock”. Translation by H.W. and F.G. Flower.

Pliny the Elder’s Natural History — “and Joppe, a city of the Phoenicians, which existed, it is said, before the deluge of the earth. It is situate on the slope of a hill, and in front of it lies a rock, upon which they point out the vestiges of the chains by which Andromeda was bound”, 5.69. Translation by Henry T. Riley.

Philostrathus, Imagines — “while Eros frees Andromeda from her bonds”, 1.29. Translation by Arthur Fairbanks.

Pseudo-Apollodorus’ Library — “But Ammon having predicted deliverance from the calamity if Cassiepea's daughter Andromeda were exposed as a prey to the monster, Cepheus was compelled by the Ethiopians to do it, and he bound his daughter to a rock”, 2.4.3. Translation by J.G. Frazer.

Antiphilus in Greek Anthology — “she who is chained to the rock is Andromeda”, 147. Translation by W.R. Paton.

Solinus’ Polyhistor — “This town displays a rock which to this day retains traces of the chains used to bind Andromeda”, 34. Translation by Arwen Apps.

Nonnus’ Dionysiaca — “One made for Cepheus's daughter, and with starry fingers twisting a ring as close as the other, enchained Andromeda, bound already, with a second bond aslant under her bands”, Book 1; “Again she awakened a new resentment, seeing the heap of Andromeda's broken chains beside the Erythraian sea, and that rock lying on the sand, Earthshaker's monstrous lump”, Book 31; “Perseus on the wing loosed the chains of Andromeda and offered the stone seamonster as a worthy bridal gift”, Book 47. Translation by W.H.D. Rouse.

And one has to wonder why Andromeda is chained in the sources in general when I can't think of this as a common sacrificial motif in Greco-Roman literature, but here I want to focus on the fact that she is still chained in the Euripidean version. Euripides certainly knows what to do when he wants to emphasize that a character who is a sacrificial victim has regained some agency, however small. If Aeschylus depicted Iphigenia crying and screaming and being bound in Agamemnon, Euripides depicted her walking freely to the altar. If visual representations of Polyxena depicted her being immobilized and carried away by the Achaeans, Euripides made it so that, by showing no resistance, such immobilization was unnecessary. This isn’t to say that Iphigenia or Polyxena wanted to die in Euripides’ version, but it does indicate something about the role resistance plays into their death. And even with Euripides having  this tendency, his Andromeda remains chained rather than subverted as he did with Iphigenia and Polyxena. In the purpose of explaining what I want to explain, let’s do some comparison. These are examples that involve the need for someone to give up their life. Menoeceus and Alcestis weren’t literally sacrificed as were Iphigenia, Polyxena, Andromeda, and Maiden (Macaria), but I’m still including them.

In Alcestis, king Admetus (he was the king of Pherae) was given the opportunity to live beyond his destined life because of the favor of the god Apollo, but on the condition that someone else would have to willingly die in his place. Admetus couldn’t find anyone willing to do this for him, including his elderly parents, and so when Death came to collect his share of the bargain, his wife Alcestis volunteered to die in his place. Since the bargain required a voluntary sacrifice, Alcestis did so of her own will, even though Admetus didn’t wish her to die and lamented it greatly afterwards. Her act was praised as an act of love and is even cited as an example in Plato's Symposium (179b-208d). She was later rescued from Death by Heracles, who was a guest of Admetus.

In The Phoenician Women, the Thebans and Argives are in conflict because of the brothers Eteocles and Polynices, both of whom desire the crown and have also been cursed by their father Oedipus. At one point, the seer Tiresias informs the Theban king Creon that he must sacrifice his son Menoeceus to save Thebes from divine punishment imposed by the god Ares. Creon, however, actively resists the plan, even instructing Menoeceus to flee so that he may live. However, despite pretending to agree with his father, Menoeceus disobeys and willingly sacrifices himself, appeasing the divine wrath. This is considered a heroic act, as he willingly offered his life in exchange for the salvation of his people despite having the option of fleeing and being supported in doing so by Creon.

In Iphigenia in Aulis, Iphigenia initially shows resistance and fear at the idea of ​​being sacrificed to the goddess Artemis, but eventually gives in and subverts her sacrifice from a tragedy to a form of immortality despite the active opposition of her mother Clytemnestra and the suggestion of her not-really-groom Achilles to save her. By showing no more resistance, Iphigenia, according to the Messenger who notifies Clytemnestra, also “dies” — she is, in fact, replaced by a deer — in the most dignified way possible considering the context. Her voluntary sacrifice seems to be equated with the sacrifice of a warrior to obtain kleos, making her in some ways an active heroine rather than a passive victim — although she is still a victim of the war. Iphigenia, despite having had a fear of death, eventually sees it as a source of pride.

In Hecuba, Polyxena, having no other choice, is conformed to be sacrificed and attempts to regain some agency by taking this as her way out of slavery despite the active opposition of her mother Hecuba. Because she doesn’t resist, regardless of how she feels, Polyxena isn’t forcibly dragged away or anything like that. Talthybius would later report to Hecuba that Polyxena supposedly died in the most dignified way possible, given the situation she was in. Polyxena is different from Iphigenia in that she isn’t seeking fame or any recognition of her sacrifice, but she is still emphasized as being dignified to the point that Talthybius makes a point of emphasizing that Polyxena managed to hide her body as she died in order to maintain modesty. Part of Polyxena's argument was precisely to be able to maintain as much dignity as possible, since this was and would be further stripped from her as a princess on the losing side and enslaved girl.

In The Heraclidae, Maiden has the chance to escape the sacrifice, but doesn’t do so, going so far as to refuse a lottery (which maybe would have given a maiden other than her and thus prevented her from being killed) and offers to be sacrificed, thinking that this will help her city win the conflict since the oracle informed them that they would only win if a maiden was sacrificed. She does so even though Iolaus shows resistance to the idea. Maiden sees this as a noble act because she considers it to demonstrate her courage and not her cowardice, again indicating how this is something she does because she wants to be heroic and save everyone.

In all cases, one or more figures demonstrate more resistance than the person who will die (Admetus/Alcestis, Creon/Menoeceus, Clytemnestra-Achilles/Iphigenia, Hecuba/Polyxena, Iolaus/Maiden), which isn’t the case with Andromeda, who in the fragments seems to be the one demonstrating the most active resistance. The characters refuse this resistance for their own reasons, but unlike Andromeda, she begs Perseus to help, actively wanting her sacrifice to be stopped (frag 128). Eventually the character allows herself to be sacrificed, even though the reasons and context are quite difficult and in all cases there is a hint of coercion in the fact that, if they don’t accept, they will either be forced or will condemn the others. With this kind of attitude, they claim it as a way of maintaining dignity, or as a noble act, or as a heroic attitude or something of the sort. Andromeda doesn’t do this, she sees it as a complete tragedy, as a miserable life, and she doesn’t seem to try to comfort herself with the idea that if she accepts being sacrificed, she will be heroic (frag 122). In any case, none of them have their movements limited, as they’re all “willing”. On the other hand, Andromeda is chained, as if, by allowing her freedom, she won’t stay there. The physical immobilization itself is a miserable attempt to immobilize her emotions, to make her conform. She is physically chained, yes, but metaphorically she is also supposed to feel chained by duty to her people… and yet Andromeda isn’t. There is no patriotism in the world that will make her be. Silva (2023, p. 122) is of the opinion that Andromeda’s lament, unlike Iphigenia’s lament, doesn’t demonstrate any longing for the past and no hope that her mother or father will do something for her. There is nothing that will make her invest emotionally to the point of giving up on living, even under coercion.

In fact, Andromeda seems to contrast some elements of the other characters! For example:

Polyxena, in Hecuba, says “By the gods, leave me free; so slay me, that death may find me free; for to be called a slave among the dead fills my royal heart with shame“ (550-552, trans. E.P Coleridge), thought apparently shared by The Trojan Women Andromache when she speaks “Her death was even as it was, and yet that death of hers was after all a happier fate than my life” (630-631, trans. E.P. Coleridge) concerning the death of Polyxena. But Andromeda, when begging Perseus says “take me with you, stranger, whether you want me as a servant, a wife, or a slave” (frag 129, Loeb edition), implying that she would even prefer to be enslaved rather than die, which is the opposite of Polyxena.

In Iphigenia in Aulis, Achilles says “But now that I have looked into your noble nature, I feel still more a fond desire to win you for my bride. Look to it; for I want to serve you and receive you in my halls; and, Thetis be my witness, how I grieve to think I shall not save your life by doing battle with the Danaids. Reflect, I say; a dreadful ill is death” (1410-1415, trans. E.P. Coleridge), reiterating the offer that Iphigenia could supposedly marry him after he saved her (she wouldn’t be obliged to marry in order for him to save her, to be clear. But since Iphigenia had initially wanted to marry, his offer was a way of guaranteeing her something), but between (unlikely) marriage and death, Iphigenia still declines Achilles' offer by saying "let me, if I can, save Hellas" (1420, trans. E.P. Coleridge). On the other hand, Andromeda accepts Perseus' offer that, as a reward for rescuing her, she marry him (frag. 129-129a).

Bocholier (2020, p. 15), when commenting on the plot of The Heraclidae, says “Who but a girl, besides, to embody this absolute fidelity to kin and blood ties, this family order older than the Greece of the cities?”, interpreting that Maiden's sacrifice has a symbolic aspect regarding familial loyalty — that is, Maiden offers herself out of loyalty to her family and her city, which theoretically should be above her own desires. On the other hand, Andromeda seems to deal with a lack of family structure more than a reaffirmation of those relationships. Cassiopeia, her mother, didn’t consider the consequences when she committed hubris (although she obviously didn't want that) and Cepheus, her father, may not have been happy with the sacrifice, but still went so far as to accept his daughter being chained. And when it is all over, Andromeda still leaves with Perseus despite Cepheus' disapproval (a reconstruction theory based on later sources that indicate that Euripides had this plot). There is no reaffirmation of filial loyalty here, although the familial relationship is still complex.

And still on the subject of chaining, while in The Phoenician Women Creon offered Menoeceus the chance to escape to another place and be helped by his father when Creon suggests “But come, my son, before the whole city learns this, fly with all haste away from this land, regardless of these prophets' reckless warnings; for he will tell all this to our rulers and generals [going to the seven gates and the captains]; now if we can forestall him, you are saved, but if you are too late, we are ruined and you will die” (970-976, trans. E.P. Coleridge), Cepheus never gave Andromeda such an opportunity. Menoeceus didn’t run away because he chose to, but Andromeda didn’t run away because she had no choice (frag 122).

In Alcestis, the request needs someone willing to die, without requiring a specific person and desiring live will. But in the myth of Andromeda, she is specifically requested and her willingness isn’t required.

In this sense, it is as if the characters were divided into the following categories:

Certainly voluntary sacrifice, since the willingness was necessary and there was no external agent that forced it: Alcestis;

Ambiguous sacrifice in voluntariness, since although the characters claim their agency by transforming the sacrifice into something that supposedly benefits them, there are still external agents that would possibly prevent them from rejecting it: Polyxena, Iphigenia, Menoeceus, Maiden.

Certainly involuntary sacrifice, since disposition doesn’t matter, there is no claim of agency and there are repeated attempts until the end of the play to escape: Andromeda.

While the other characters died clothed, this kind of dignity is sometimes not afforded to Andromeda: “I was looking at the picture of Andromeda brought down by Perseus naked from the rock” (Hellodorus’ Ethiopica trans. Thomas Underdowne), “Andromeda, fettered to a jutting rock, her hair hanging loose about her shoulders; ye Gods, what loveliness was there exposed to view!” (Dialogues of the Sea 14 trans. H.W. and F.G. Flower). Again, it makes it hard to believe that her sacrifice was considered voluntary or even ambiguous. She is, of course, not always mentioned naked and has often been visually depicted clothed, but the chains still seem a constant. Even when Andromeda is fully clothed, she has still been stripped of her agency. She still feels humiliated, still feels as if she isn’t being treated as a person. This is all still very disturbing for Andromeda, an overwhelming feeling that the end is coming and she can't do anything about it — an immense feeling of helplessness. A princess stripped of any power, quite ironic.

Comparing some lines:

“Who will escort me from here, before my hair is torn?”, Iphigenia asks in 1458. Hair-pulling is a form of violent humiliation known from Greek works, but it’s especially famous in the visual representations in which the Trojan princess Cassandra is depicted with her hair being pulled by Lesser Ajax. Other visual examples that I know of are a visual source that shows Achilles dragging prince Troilus by his hair and two visual sources that show Clytemnestra dragging Cassandra by her hair. With this line, Iphigenia shows that, as much as she saw pride in her voluntary sacrifice, she is quite aware that if she hadn’t accepted, she would have been violently coerced (something that, for example, happened in Aeschylus' version, as indicated in the play Agamemnon). Therefore, by accepting, Iphigenia also demonstrates an attempt to control the dignity with which she dies.

“Then he, half glad, half sorry in his pity for the maid, cut with the steel the channels of her breath, and streams of blood gushed forth; but she, even in death, took good heed to fall with grace, hiding from the gaze of men what must be hidden. When she had breathed her last through the fatal gash, no Argive set his hand to the same task, but some were strewing leaves over the corpse in handfuls, others bringing pine-logs and heaping up a pyre; and the one who brought nothing would hear from him who did such taunts as these, “Do you stand still, ignoble wretch, with no robe or ornament to bring for the maiden? will you give nothing to her that showed such peerless bravery and spirit?”, says Talthybius when reporting the sacrifice of Polyxena in 566-580. Polyxena isn’t shown being held down while she is killed, as happens in some visual representations in which she is immobilized by Achaeans, but rather offering her chest (heart) and throat (trachea) to be cut. By exposing herself without an external agent immobilizing her, Polyxena is given the chance, in her last moments, to be able to quickly move to cover herself, thus dying in a way that she considers dignified (i.e., not naked to the eyes of the enemy). Although her sacrifice is required by the context, her attitude of exposing herself is interpreted as a sign of bravery and, therefore, she receives ornaments, which theoretically should be a form of funerary honor. Such “honor” would hardly have been made available to Polyxena’s body if she weren’t seen as “brave”. If Polyxena had actively resisted, she would have forced herself into it and would have died in a much physically violent way, without any chance to try to gain as much comfort as possible from a miserable death.

While Menoeceus is never threatened with a possibly undignified situation (which makes me wonder if this has something to do with him being a male sacrifice required  rather than a sacrificial maiden), Creon's lines “Ah me! what shall I do? Am I to mourn with tears myself or my city, which has a cloud around it [as if it went through Acheron]? My son has died for his country, bringing glory to his name, but grievous woe to me. His body I have just now taken from the dragon's rocky lair and sadly carried the self-slain victim here in my arms; and the house is filled with weeping; but now I have come for my sister Jocasta, age seeking age, that she may bathe my child's corpse and lay it out. For those who are not dead must reverence the god below by paying honor to the dead” in 1310-1321 are structured so that the declaration that Menoeceus' death was heroic precedes the demand for dignified funeral honors. Voluntary death dignified Menoeceus.

Maiden isn’t threatened because her sacrifice isn’t asked for directly, but by saying “Then fear no more the Argive enemy's spear. For I am ready, old man, of my own accord and unbidden, to appear for sacrifice and be killed. For what shall we say if this city is willing to run great risks on our behalf, and yet we, who lay toil and struggle on others, run away from death when it lies in our power to save them? It must not be so, for it deserves nothing but mockery if we sit and groan as suppliants of the gods and yet, though we are descended from that great man who is our father, show ourselves to be cowards. How can this be fitting in the eyes of men of nobility? Much finer, I suppose, if this city were to be capture（God forbid! and I were to fall into the hands of the enemy and then when I, daughter of a noble father, have suffered dishonor, go to my death all the same! But shall I then accept exile from this land and be a wanderer? Shall I not feel shame if someone thereafter asks, [Why do you come here with your suppliant branches when you yourselves lack courage? Leave this land: for we do not give help to the base]?” in 500-519 (trans. David Kovacs) she reveals that her motivation isn’t solely heroic. It isn’t only that she wishes to demonstrate courage and nobility by sacrificing herself for the good of all, but it is also because she recognizes that if the prophecy isn’t fulfilled and no maiden is sacrificed, her people will lose the war and that means dead men and enslaved women, including herself. By sacrificing herself, Maiden prevents herself from being enslaved and also prevents other women from being enslaved. She follows a logic that it’s better to have a glorious death than a miserable life, again her voluntariness linked to the dignity.

The case of Alcestis doesn’t apply in this specific comparison, as the sacrifice couldn’t be coerced.

In contrast, Andromeda feels so humiliated that she compares herself to food, and part of this feeling that her dignity has been taken away from her is motivated by the chain: “to set (me) out as food for the sea monster” (frag 115), “[...] but entangled in close bonds I am presented as food [...]” (frag 122). Devoured by the monster, Andromeda wouldn’t have a quick and clean death, and it would definitely not be a death that would make her feel dignified. She feels like food because she feels dehumanized. She has no hope of trying to find a more "humane" or "dignified" way to die because, once the death is being eaten alive by a monster, there aren't many options.

There are texts, both Greek and Roman, that emphasize Andromeda's feelings at the moment, making it clear how sad she was about being sacrificed and how happy she was to be saved:

Euripides’ Andromeda — “Why have I, Andromeda, been given a share of suffering above all others—I, who in misery here am facing death?”, frag 115; “Feel my pain with me, for the sufferer who shares his tears has some relief from his burden”, frag 119. Loeb edition.

Ovid’s Metamorphosis — “but the breeze moved in her hair, and from her streaming eyes the warm tears fel [...] as overcome with shame, she made no sound: were not she fettered she would surely hide her blushing head; but what she could perform that did she do—she filled her eyes with tears [...] Over the waves a monster fast approached, its head held high, abreast the wide expanse —The virgin shrieked”, Book 4. Translation by Brookes More.

Ovid’s Ars Amatoria — “What was less hoped for by Andromeda, in chains han that her tears could please anyone?”, Book 3. Translation by A.S. Kline.

Philostratus, Imagines — “for she seems to be incredulous, her joy is mingled with fear, and as she gazes at Perseus she begins to send a smile towards him”, 1.29. Translation by Arthur Fairbanks

Nonnus’ Dionysiaca — “Perseus saved Andromeda in her affliction”, Book 18; “old Cepheus is unhappy still, when he sees Andromeda's fear, and the Monster of Olympos coming, after what happened here on earth!”, Book 25. Translation by W.H.D. Rouse.

Andromeda’s unhappiness at being sacrificed may not necessarily indicate her lack of consent to it — after all, Iphigenia in Iphigenia in Aulis also openly expressed her unhappiness and in the end she consented —, but her determination to get help and her immense joy at actually being helped are indications of how unwilling she was. She could have refused it, just as the other characters I’ve given as examples did, but she didn’t. Andromeda wanted this help because she never wanted to be there and she never even tried to regain agency like, for example, Polyxena did — who also didn't want to be in the situation she was in and had no real agency but tried to get the impression of it. Andromeda accepted that she had no agency and showed no signs of wanting to subvert it. It’s as if, while Iphigenia made the sacrifice about her more than the war, Andromeda had no such pretensions. Andromeda not only knows it’s not about her — she also doesn’t want it to be. There is no sense of accomplishment for her, as there may have been for Menoeceus and Maiden. She is in deep despair. In this sense, Euripides' Andromeda more closely resembles the kind of description Aeschylus offered of Iphigenia's sacrifice, in which she wept and screamed and resisted so much that she was immobilized and silenced. That is, she more closely resembles an example where there isn’t a self-sacrifice, but an entirely forced sacrifice without any attempt to regain agency through the sacrifice itself, but the agency being played out in vain resistance (for however much Aeschylus Iphigenia and Euripides Andromeda resisted, it didn’t alter the minds of their people. Andromeda had an strange not affected by the context to be bothered by the situation, but Iphigenia received no such thing).

Therefore, with this, I wanted to argue in favor of the idea that Andromeda's sacrifice, in the sources in general, isn’t voluntary.

ANDROMEDA AND PERSEUS: A LOVE STORY?

Here, I’ll discuss my interpretation of the relationship based on the sources. First, it’s notable that there is an eroticism surrounding the myth of Andromeda. Although this is already evident in many sources, it becomes even more obvious when the god Eros is literally included. In the Greco-Roman literary sources, these are some examples of the emphasis on eroticism in the myth (note that I’m using eroticism as an term for both romance and sexuality):

Above all beware of reproaching girls for their faults, it’s useful to ignore so many things. Andromeda’s dark complexion was not criticised by Perseus, who was borne aloft by wings on his feet. [...]

Ars Amatoria, Book 2. Translation by A.S. Kline.

PHILODEMUS O feet, O legs, O thighs for which I justly died, O buttocks, O pubis, O flanks, O shoulders, O breasts, O slender neck, O arms, O eyes I am mad for, O accomplished movement, O admirable kisses, O exclamations that excite! If she is Italian and her name is Flora and she does not sing Sappho, yet Perseus was in love with Indian Andromeda.

Greek Anthology, 5.132. Translation by W.R. Paton.

TRITON: When he was at the Ethiopian shore here, and now flying low, he saw Andromeda lying fastened to a projecting rock—ye gods, what a beautiful sight she was!—with her hair let down, but largely uncovered from the breasts downwards. At first he pitied her fate and asked the reason for her punishment, but little by little he succumbed to love, and decided to help, since she had to be saved. So when the monster came—a fearsome sight it was too!—to gulp her down, the young man hovered above it with his scimitar unsheathed, and, striking with one hand, showed it the Gorgon with the other, and turned it into stone. At one and the same time was the monster killed, and most of it, all of it that faced Medusa, petrified. Then Perseus undid the maiden’s chains, and supported her with his hand as she tip-toed down from the slippery rock. Now he’s marrying her in Cepheus’ palace and will take her away to Argos, so that, instead of dying, she’s come by an uncommonly good marriage.

Dialogue of the Sea Gods, 14.3.  Translation by Henry Watson and Fowler.

[...] Without a dower he takes Andromeda, the guerdon of his glorious victory, nor hesitates.—Now pacing in the van, both Love [Eros] and Hymen wave the flaring torch, abundant perfumes lavished in the flames. The houses are bedecked with wreathed flowers; and lyres and flageolets resound, and songs— felicit notes that happy hearts declare. The portals opened, sumptuous halls display their golden splendours, and the noble lords of Cepheus' court take places at the feast, magnificently served. After the feast, when every heart was warming to the joys of genial Bacchus , then, Lyncidian Perseus asked about the land and its ways about the customs and the character of its heroes. [...]

Metamorphoses, Book 4. Translation by Brookes More.

No, this is not the Red Sea nor are these inhabitants of India, but Ethiopians and a Greek man in Ethiopia. And of the exploit which I think the man undertook voluntarily for love, my boy, you must have heard – the exploit of Perseus who, they say, slew in Ethiopia a monster from the sea of Atlas, which was making its way against herds and the people of this land. Now the painter glorifies this tale and shows his pity for Andromeda in that she was given over to the monster. The contest is already finished and the monster lies stretched out on the strand, weltering in streams of blood – the reason the sea is red – while Eros [Love] frees Andromeda from her bonds. Eros is painted with wings as usual, but here, as it not usual, he is a young man, panting and still showing the effects of his toil; for before the deed Perseus put up a prayer to Eros that he should come and with him swoop down upon the creature, and Eros came, for he heard the Greek’s prayer. The maiden is charming in that she is fair of skin though in Ethiopia, and charming is the very beauty of her form; she would surpass a Lydian girl in daintiness, an Attic girl in stateliness, a Spartan in sturdiness. Her beauty is enhanced by the circumstances of the moment; for she seems to be incredulous, her joy is mingled with fear, and as she gazes at Perseus she begins to send a smile towards him. He, not far from the maiden, lies in the sweet fragrant grass, dripping sweat on the ground and keeping the Gorgon’s head hidden lest people see it and be turned to stone. Many cow-herds come offering him milk and wine to drink, charming Ethiopians with their strange colouring and their grim smiles; and they show that they are pleased, and most of them look alike, Perseus welcomes their gifts and, supporting himself on his left elbow, he lefts his chest, filled with breath through panting, and keeps his gaze upon the maiden, and lets the wind blow out his chlamys, which is purple and spattered with drops of blood and with the flecks which the creature breathed upon it in the struggle. Let he children of Pelops perish when it comes to a comparison with the shoulder of Perseus! for beautiful as he is and ruddy of face, his bloom has been enhanced by his toil and his veins are swollen, as is wont to happen when the breath comes quickly. Much gratitude does he win from the maiden.

Imagines, 1.29. Translation by Arthur Fairbanks.

ANTIPHILUS On a Painting of Andromeda The land is Ethiopian; he with the winged sandals is Perseus; she who is chained to the rock is Andromeda; the face is the Gorgon’s, whose glance turns men to stone; the sea-monster is the task set by Love [Eros], she who boasted of her child’s beauty is Cassiopea. Andromeda releases from the rock her feet inured to numbness and dead, and her suitor carries off the bride his prize.

Greek Anthology, 16.147. Translation by W.R. Paton.

When he saw the girl hanging from the rock,  he stiffened—he whom even his enemy had not stunned.  Scarcely did he hold his prize in his hand,  and the conqueror of Medusa was conquered in the presence of  Andromeda.

Liber Quintus. Translation by James Uden. [Detail: there is also the argument that this source is actually a way of de-emphasizing eroticism, for those interested see “A Song from the Universal Chorus: The Perseus and Andromeda Epyllion”]

Regarding visual representations, Odgen (2008, p. 81-82) comments:

Artists also exploited the erotic potential of the suspended Andromeda. Vase painters and wall painters often preferred to represent her clothing diaphanously (e.g. LIMC Andromeda I no. 23, a Sicilian calyx-crater of ca. 350–25 bc, and no. 32, a Roman wall- painting from Boscotrecase). And as with the writers, wardrobe mal- function could be deployed to enhance the effect. One notable example of this is found in the case of a fragment of a Lucanian bell-crater of the early fourth century bc, on which a voluptuous Andromeda holds her thin peplos-dress up in her teeth to preserve her modesty (LIMC Andromeda I no. 22). In ca. 340 bc the female nude entered the canon of Greek sculpture, and this seems to have had an impact on the ways in which Andromeda could be shown. A nude Hellenistic statue, preserved only in the form of a Roman copy reduced to little more than a torso, indicates what could be done. The delicate chain that rests across the top of the girl’s right thigh offers little to her modesty (LIMC Andromeda I no. 157, from Alexandria). No doubt this was the sort of thing Roman writers had in mind when they compared the suspended Andromeda to a statue. Full nudity was too much for the vase painters, and the only completely nude Andromeda to be found on a vase is a burlesque figure of ca. 340–30 bc on a Campanian hydria (LIMC Andromeda I no. 20). From the third century bc and onwards Etruscan and Roman relief-sculptors and wall-painters were less reticent about going all the way (e.g. LIMC Andromeda I nos. 53, 55, 75, 146a, 152). Roman artists favoured three tender vignettes with little or no correlate in the literary tradition, and all of these are to be found in profusion in Pompeian wall-paintings. In one Perseus is shown helping Andromeda down from her place of suspension, with a miniaturised dead ketos sometimes lying at their feet (e.g. LIMC Andromeda I nos. 67–71, 73–4, 78, 83–9, 209–11, 222). In the second, completely absent from the written record, we catch a now fully relaxed Perseus and Andromeda, their troubles behind them, sitting together and gazing at the reflection of the Gorgon-head in a rock-pool. Perseus is evidently recounting his earlier adventures to his new fiancée, perhaps still on the shore where the ketos was killed (LIMC Andromeda I nos.102–4, 109–10, 118, 120, Perseus nos. 66–73). In the third we find Perseus transporting Andromeda through the air, presumably back to Seriphos (LIMC Perseus nos. 229–30).

Furthermore, it must be considered that Eros/Love is represented, in some cases, in ceramics that address the rescue of Andromeda by Perseus, emphasizing the eroticism of the myth (for example, see here).

Gibert (1999-2000), in relation to Euripides' play Andromeda, comments on how it most likely had as its focus not the heroic conquest of Perseus, but the love between Perseus and Andromeda. There are even surviving lines in which the god Eros is invoked to help the pair of star-crossed lovers. One of the possibilities to be commented on is also the chances that Andromeda was the first play to represent a man falling in love. Note that it isn’t “a man in love”, but a “man falling in love” — that is, the moment in which the feeling arises. Furthermore, Andromeda was part of a trilogy that also contained the play Helen, which, unlike Andromeda, has survived. Although Helen has more than one theme, the emphasis on the romantic relationship between Helen and Menelaus is quite obvious, which perhaps allows for the theory that this specific trilogy proposed an approach to mythological romantic relationships. Not only that, but both Andromeda and Helen are a subject of debate in terms of genre, with scholars debating whether they are tragedy, comedy, or something else — much of this debate exists by the fact that Aristotle’s “Poetics” is often used as a reference for the rules of theatrical genres. Euripides, in this trilogy, apparently wasn’t trying to follow the known strict formulas.

The presence of such strong eroticism in the myth of Andromeda is actually something that intrigues me. It intrigues me how, in some ways, their relationship became stronger than Perseus’ heroic conquests. Yes, Perseus is still praised for facing Cetus, saving Andromeda, and then dealing with Phineus, but the focus is still on how he and Andromeda feel about each other. This, at least to my mind, still sounds more like a relationship myth than a conquest myth, although both elements are present and important. Even when we have sources that speak of Perseus' immortalization in the stars, Andromeda is usually emphasized as being immortalized in the stars as well (Nonnus' Dionysiaca, Pseudo-Hyginus' Astronomica, Aratus' Phaenomena).

Regarding Andromeda's reciprocity, Silva (2023, p. 130-131) comments that Andromeda, as a character in an Euripidean play that includes the elements of “escape” and “salvation,” resembles Euripidean characters Iphigenia (Iphigenia in Tauris) and Helen (Helen), and this would include her non-passivity in her escape. She supports this idea with what Erastatones says in Catasterismi 17, where he describes that Andromeda refused to stay her father and mother and went with Perseus of her own free will, and what is said in Pseudo-Hyginus' Astronomica, which gives a similar account that also emphasizes Andromeda's desire. For Silva, the play, therefore, addresses the idea of ​​a girl abandoning her family and homeland in order to follow her lover to an unknown situation. She also recalls that Peterson (1904, p. 101) interpreted Andromeda's decision as a disregard for traditional duties, after all she disobeyed her parents' wishes and left her homeland to go with a stranger. It wasn't supposed to be an easy decision.

Pseudo-Apollodorus records:

[...] But Ammon having predicted deliverance from the calamity if Cassiepea's daughter Andromeda were exposed as a prey to the monster, Cepheus was compelled by the Ethiopians to do it, and he bound his daughter to a rock. When Perseus beheld her, he loved her and promised Cepheus that he would kill the monster, if he would give him the rescued damsel to wife. These terms having been sworn to, Perseus withstood and slew the monster and released Andromeda. However, Phineus, who was a brother of Cepheus, and to whom Andromeda had been first betrothed, plotted against him; but Perseus discovered the plot, and by showing the Gorgon turned him and his fellow conspirators at once into stone. [...]

Library, 2.4.3. Translation by J.G. Frazer.

Regarding this passage, Faria (2023, p. 11) interprets that “it can be inferred that Perseus takes Andromeda's salvation as proof of love and, in order to free her, he faces the monster to which she was exposed and deals with conspiracies and adversities from opponents, such as Phineus” (improvised translation, the original was in Portuguese).

Now that I have established why I think Perseus was motivated by love and that the feeling was mutual, I’ll argue why I think the marriage was beneficial to Andromeda. Again, the comparison territory! Hesione is probably the sacrificial maiden most similar to Andromeda and I wouldn’t be surprised if one was derived from the other. Laomedon, the Trojan king, didn’t pay homage to the gods Apollo and Poseidon by building the walls of Troy, forced by the king of the gods Zeus to do so as punishment for both of them being part of a plan to betray him. This led to the prophecy that a sea monster would be sent to destroy Troy and that the only way to prevent this would be to sacrifice Hesione, one of the princesses. Heracles, seeing her there and talking to her, learned of what had happened. He then told King Laomedon that he would save her and Troy by killing the monster, but that he wanted Laomedon's divine horses as a reward (which, depending on the source, are explained as gifts from Zeus as compensation for the kidnapping of the young and beautiful Ganymede). Laomedon made the promise, but, just as he didn’t fulfill his duty to the gods, he didn’t fulfill his duty to Heracles. As a result, Heracles, along with other Achaeans, sacked Troy with drastic results. Priam, one of the princes, ended up inheriting Laomedon's throne, and Hesione was taken as a prize of war, with Heracles giving her to Telamon for his usefulness in the sack (see, for example, Pseudo-Apollodorus' Library and the Byzantine scholia of The Iliad).

The similarities to Andromeda are obvious, in terms of context:

The event takes place in a foreign/non-Greek place (Aethiopia/Troy);

A hierarchical power figure of the community commits hubris against the gods (Cassiopeia/Laomedon);

Poseidon is involved in both cases (he is requested by the Nereids, who were offended/he is one of the offended gods);

It’s prophesied that a sea monster (in the case of Andromeda, his name is Cetus) will destroy the city (Aethiopia/Troy) as punishment for this hubris; 

It’s also prophesied that the only way to avoid the destruction of the city (Aethiopia/Troy) is with the sacrifice of the daughter (Andromeda/Hesione) of the one who offended the gods (Cassiopeia/Laomedon). They’re both maidens and the sacrifice of both is justified as being the "best" for the community;

A Greek hero (Perseus/Heracles) appears, talks to the maiden (Andromeda/Hesione), finds out from her what is happening and negotiates a reward with her father (marriage/divine horses). Both heroes are sons of Zeusand have a mortal father figure (Dictys/Amphitryon);

The monster is defeated, the girl (Andromeda/Hesione) is taken.

There are, however, some crucial differences here, which I’ll comment on. Well, let us return to Euripides. Although the fragments of the play Andromeda aren’t in a 100% sure order, this is one of the possibilities suggested:

Perseus Maiden, if I should rescue you, will you show me gratitude?  Andromeda Take me with you, stranger, whether you want me a servant, a wife or a slave. Perseus  I have never abused the unfortunate in their unfortunate in adversity, for I may suffer adversity myself. Andromeda Do not bring me to tears by offering my hope; many things may happen that are unanticipated. 

Fragments 129-130. Loeb edition.

If we consider that the order is this, then the dialogue would be structured in such a way as to build a scene in which, despite Perseus initially demanding a reward for saving Andromeda, when Andromeda responded with such desperation (indicated by the way she even claims that she would be his slave, as long as he saved her), Perseus apparently realized that this wasn’t the best thing to say and made sure to assure Andromeda that he wouldn’t use her current vulnerability as a way to exploit her (which is why, right after Andromeda suggested slavery as his reward, Perseus claimed that he avoids taking advantage of other people's misfortune). In this case, Perseus would apparently be recognizing Andromeda's lack of power at that moment, knowing that vulnerability would possibly make her enter into exploitative scenarios, and in response he would have tried to assure her that her safety was guaranteed.

If this is indeed the original order of the play, it would make Andromeda's situation quite different from Hesione's. Hesione had no such safety guaranteed to her by Heracles or Telamon; she was actually taken to be enslaved in Salamis. For example, in Pseudo-Apollodorus Library 2.6.4 she is said to have been given as a prize to Telamon (“he [Heracles] assigned Laomedon's daughter Hesione as a prize to Telamon”, trans. J.G. Frazer), in Sophocles’ Ajax she is directly referred to as an enslaved captive (“you, the captive slave's son”, trans. Richard Jebb), and in the Byzantine scholia the scholiast makes Hesione's extremely disadvantageous situation even more obvious by saying “When Heracles sacked Troy, he took as prisoner Hesione, the daughter of Laomedon (and sister of Priam), and gave her as a war-prize to Telamon because he had fought with him” (trans. R. Scott Smith). Hesione has no legitimate status and consequently doesn’t have the legal protection of a wife. She is an enslaved woman, not a free person. We don't have to think about what Andromeda's life would be like if Perseus was the kind of guy who saved a girl from being sacrificed just to get her as a prize, without really considering her safety or feelings, because Telamon already did that with Hesione. We already know that story. Sure, there are a lot of euphemisms for master-slave relationships in the writing of some ancient authors, Briseis and Achilles is probably the most obvious example of this with authors talking about how Briseis' beauty turned him on and oh how he would leave the battlefield from her bed and the like, but even Briseis has been acknowledged for her disadvantageous status in various texts. No one has the slightest doubt that she has no legal protection, no one has the slightest doubt that Achilles has more power over her than any healthy relationship should allow and the Byzantine scholia, just as it recognized that Hesione is a prisoner, recognized that Iliadic Achilles wasn’t really caring about Briseis. But Andromeda? She never had this type of source. There is no euphemism in the world that would make Andromeda, with the amount of sources she has, not have been identified as being in a disadvantageous situation by at least one author. I would understand if she was a obscure character, but she's not.

And to further emphasize how Hesione is a very obvious example of what happens when the hero isn’t genuinely trying to save the girl, consider this fragment from Euripides’ play that is interpreted as Andromeda’s: “I forbid the acquiring of illegitame sons. Though in no way inferior to legitimate ones, they are handicapped by convention and this is something you must beware of” (frag 141). Presumably this line is Andromeda making Perseus assure her that he won’t have any illegitimate children, that is, children other than with Andromeda, whom he is promising to make his wife. The justification is that this will be a problem for the child who, no matter how good they are, will be treated with contempt by social convention. And well, since Hesione is an enslaved concubine and not a wife, Teucer, her son, is illegitimate. And he does have a problem with that. In Book 10 of The Iliad, Agamemnon reminds him that Telamon raising him in his household despite Teucer being a bastard is something that should be rewarded by Teucer bringing glory to Salamis. In Sophocles' Ajax, Agamemnon dismisses Teucer by saying that, as the son of an enslaved Trojan woman, he is also a barbarian and a slave, and as such, Agamemnon has no reason to listen to him. In other sources (Sophocles' lost plays, Euripides' Helen, Ioannis Tzetzes' Ad Lycophronem, Pausanias' Description of Greece, etc), Ajax's death results in Teucer's banishment by Telamon. Teucer's safety in Salamis was assured by Ajax, the legitimate son, caring for him. From the moment Ajax died, Teucer, in his illegitimate condition, also lost his safety. Not only is Hesione the embodiment of what Perseus's assurance is meant to prevent, Teucer is the embodiment of what Andromeda's demand is meant to prevent. 

And interestingly, none of the sources mention Perseus having mistresses or illegitimate children, so from what can be assumed from the surviving sources, he was indeed loyal and faithful to Andromeda.

THE SUBVERSION OF ANDROMEDA’S MYTH

Even in the comedy genre, which wasn’t meant to be taken seriously, these aspects of Andromeda remain. In Thesmophoriazusae, Aristophanes wrote a scene parodying Euripides’ Andromeda. Consequently, the characterization of the characters in this absurd situation (the context of this scene is insane, but I honestly don’t think it’s useful for this post) reflects Euripidean characterization and, consequently, Andromeda here is represented as someone who actively mourns and wants help. However, this becomes comical. Lourenço (1995, p. 285-291) argues that Aristophanes parodied this specific play because, similar to Euripides’ Helen (also parodied by him), it was one of the materials that provided the greatest melodramatic potential. The subversion of parody lies in transforming the tragic into the comic and the romantic into a very unromantic scenario. if the subversion of the play, forming the parody, is in making it funny and unromantic, then it reinforces the status of Euripides' original play as the story of a tragic couple in love. Ribeiro (2018, p. 126-139) comments on how well received the play was at the time, capable of arousing a lot of sympathy from the public with the sweet and tragic couple. This type of parody wouldn’t have had the impact it had if it weren’t for the positive reception and the original aspects of Euripides' play. Even today, when calling Andromeda a "controversial" play, the intention tends to be more in the realm of debate about what makes something a tragic play in terms of genre. It usually takes into account what Aristotle says in Poetics, which clearly doesn’t fit with what we know about the structure of Andromeda (just as, for example, it doesn’t seem to fit with Helen) and that’s why there is the debate. It's not about having had a troubled reception.

Gibert says (1999-2000, p. 85-86):

This brings us back to genre. Perseus' love is the only target of Aristophanes' parody that might also be called a structural element of Andromeda's, love story. All of his targets, however, would have contributed to the unusual atmosphere and tone of the Euripidean original: the daring use of Echo, the exotic predicament and exaggerated pathos of the exposed maiden, and the arrival of the gallant hero through the air. So would several other elements of the dramatic situation. When they meet, the two principals are young and unattached, and Andromeda is a parthenos, ripe for marriage. A victim of her father's cruelty, she attracts sympathy through her opening scenes, and her savior Perseus appears to have been no less sympathetic a character. He was at any rate acceptable to Andromeda, and this suggests that the audience too will have wanted the couple's marriage plans to succeed. They do succeed, as everyone surely expected all along. Against this background, Perseus' constant love deserves to be called an ethically serious development of the legend's romantic potential. We do not know whether he expounded other motives or was consistently high-minded, nor whether Andromeda felt anything other than gratitude. In treating joyful true love seriously, however, Euripides enlarged the boundaries of the tragic genre.

In the Greek Anthology, an anonymous epigram presents Andromeda rejecting Perseus and he, enraged, petrifying her:

What Perseus would say after slaying the Monster, when Andromeda refused him: The cruel fetters of the rock have turned thy heart to stone, and now let the eye of Medusa turn thy body, too, to stone.

9.479. Translation by W.R. Paton.

This kind of epigram seems to be intended to be humorous by breaking expectations. Audiences familiar with the typical romantic story would be shocked at how messy everything has become. But then again, this kind of thing is only possible because there has been a breaking of expectations, which was only possible because Perseus and Andromeda was already known as a story of love and gratitude. Andromeda's refusal is supposed to surprise, it isn’t supposed to someone see this and think "aha! The real story that had been hidden!"

Conon, in Narrations 40, offers a rationalized version of the myth that doesn’t include a attempt of sacrifice. And yet, curiously, Andromeda's dissatisfaction with the situation imposed upon her is still evident:

The 40th story tells the history of Andromeda quite differently from the myth of the Greeks. Two brothers were born, Kepheus and Phineas, and the kingdom of Kepheus is what is later renamed Phoenicia but at the time was called Ioppa, taking its name from Ioppe the seaside city. And the borders of his realm ran from our sea [the Mediterranean] up to the Arabs who live on the Red Sea. Kepheus has a very fair daughter Andromeda, and Phoinix woos her and so does Phineas the brother of Kepheus. Kepheus decides after much calculation on both sides to give her to Phoinix but, by having the suitor kidnap her, conceal that it was intentional. Andromeda was snatched from a desert islet where she was accustomed to go and sacrifice to Aphrodite. When Phoinix kidnapped her in a ship (which was called Ketos [sea monster], whether by chance or because it had a likeness to the animal), Andromeda began screaming, assuming she was being kidnapped without her father's knowledge, and called for help with groans. Perseus the son of Danae by some daimonic chance was sailing by, and at first sight of the girl, was overcome by pity and love. He destroyed the ship Sea Monster and killed those aboard, who were only surprised, not actually turned to stone. And for the Greeks this became the sea monster of the myth and the people turned to stone by the Gorgon's head. So he makes Andromeda his wife and she sails with Perseus to Greece and they live in Argos where he becomes king.

Translation by Brady Kiesling.

Conon wanted to rationalize the myth, but still keep it with certain known themes and elements (e.g. Perseus rescuing Andromeda and Cepheus still being an ambiguous figure). And it makes you wonder...couldn't Andromeda's unwillingness be one of those elements?

Therefore, I think that, even looking at the logic of the subversions, my already shared opinions remain.

SECONDARY SOURCES

WEST, M.L. The Hesiodic Catalogue of Women: Its Nature, Structure and Origins. Oxford, 1985.

PHILIPS, Kyle. American Journal of Archaeology, Vol. 72, No. 1 (Jan., 1968), pp. 1-23.

BOCHOLIER, Julien. The Ambiguities of Voluntary Self-Sacrifice: the Case of Macaria in Euripides’ Heraclidae. 2020.

LOURENÇO, Frederico. HVMANITAS — Vol. XLV. Tema(s) e Desenvolvimento Temático nos Tesmoforiantes de Aristófanes. 1995. 

RIBEIRO, Wilson. Codex – Revista de Estudos Clássicos, Rio de Janeiro, vol. 6, n. 2, jul.-dez. 2018, pp. 123-15

ODGEN, Daniel. Perseus. Routledge, 2008.

SILVA, Maria de Fátima. PROMETEUS - Ano 15 - Número 43 – setembro - dezembro 2023.

GIBERT, John. Illinois Classical Studies, Vol. 24/25, Euripides and Tragic Theatre in the Late Fifth Century (1999-2000), pp. 75-91.

➤ THE JOURNEY FROM TROEZEN TO ATHENS: Along the journey Theseus made from Troezen (the place where he was born and raised, the kingdom of which Aethra, his mother, was princess) to Athens (the kingdom of his mortal father Aegeus), Theseus got rid bandits (Periphetes, Sinis, Sciron, Cercyon, Procrustes) and a wild boar (Phaea), all of which were causing trouble for the people in the region. SOURCES: Pseudo-Apollodorus’ Library 3.16.1-2; Diodorus Siculus’ Library of History 4.59.2-5; Fabulae § 38; Bacchylides’ Theseus; Pausanias’ Description of Greece 2.1.3-4; Plutarch’s Life of Theseus 8-11; Strabo’s Geography 9.1.4; Isocrates’ Helen 29; Plutarch’s Comparison of Theseus and Romulus 1.2; probably Aeschylus’ Cercyon (lost); Sophocles’ Theseus (lost) and also the Sophocles’ frag 905.

➤ DEALING WITH THE CRETAN/MARATHONIAN BULL: After the demigod of Zeus Heracles brought the Cretan Bull to the Peloponnese as one of his labors, the animal began causing trouble in Marathon with his violent temper. Theseus volunteered to deal with the problem or was sent to do it by Aegeus, who was manipulated by his wife Medea. Not only that, but the bull was also sacrificed, as it should have been from the beginning. Depending on the source, such as Plutarch, the sacrifice is explicitly performed by Theseus. It could be said that Theseus was actually cleaning up Minos' mess. SOURCES: Diodorus Siculus’ Library of History 4.59.6; Fabulae 38; Pausanias’ Description of Greece 1.27.9-10 and 3.18.11 and 3.18.16; Plutarch’s Life of Theseus 14.1-3; Pseudo-Apollodorus’ Library E.1.5; Callimachus’ Hecale (lost).

➤ XENIA FOLLOWER: According to some accounts, on the way to deal with the Bull of Marathon/Cretan Bull, Theseus received hospitality from an elderly woman named Hecale. After the mission, he returned to see her again and discovered that she was dead. Wanting to honor the kindness she had shown him, he granted honors upon her in the cult of Zeus, a deity strongly associated with xenia, a law that Hecale followed perfectly. The Callimachus fragments, in particular, indicate a very friendly and respectful conversation between the two while Theseus was his guest, implying that not only was Hecale a good hostess but Theseus was also a good guest, making them both people who honor xenia. In fragment 235, for example, he shows sympathy for Hecale by being kind to him and feels sorry for the idea of ​​an elderly woman living in such a seemingly lonely life. SOURCES: Callimachus’ Hecale (lost); Plutarch’s Life of Theseus 14.2.

➤ ALTRUISTIC SACRIFICE: Depending on the version of the myth, Theseus volunteered to sacrifice himself to the Minotaur. He didn't have to do this, especially since he was a prince, but he did it because he wanted to save the Athenians. In one version told by Plutarch, the Athenians he was sacrificing himself for didn't even like him because they saw him as a foreigner, since he was born and raised in Troezen. And yet, feeling that he needed to prove to the citizens that he was worthy of ruling them rather than simply stating "it's my rightful right", Theseus did what was necessary to earn the power. SOURCES: Fabulae 41; Plutarch’s Life of Theseus 17.1-2; Isocrates’ Helen 27-28; Pseudo-Apollodorus’ Library E.1.7; Iliadic scholia 18.590.

➤ IN DEFENSE OF PERIBOEA/ERIBOEA: In one version, while Minos was taking the young to Crete, he attempted to rape a girl named Periboea, but she screamed and Theseus protected her despite already knowing of Minos's power and how Zeus favored him as his father. As a result, Minos's anger was directed at Theseus, as he felt his authority was being questioned. This event is part of the myth in which Minos challenges Theseus to prove that he is the son of Poseidon, which Theseus does. Periboea is also the future mother of Big Ajax, and some sources such as Athenaeus and Plutarch clarify that she was Theseus's lover, I imagine probably sometime after she was saved. Both authors specifically say that they were married, although I know of no surviving source that justifies a possible divorce considering that both characters later marry other people, namely the king of Salamis Telamon and the Cretan princess Phaedra. SOURCES: Bacchylides’ Youths; Astronomica 2.5.3; Pausanias’ Description of Greece 1.17.3 and 1.42.2; Plutarch’s Life of Theseus 29.1.

➤ RELATIONSHIP WITH MINOS: In a version told by Pausanias, Theseus tried to talk to Minos, explaining what really happened to Androgeus, Minos' son, which, in some sources such as Pseudo-Apollodorus, is the justification for Minos' hatred for Athens, since the Cretan king blamed the Athenians for the loss of his dead son, even in the versions where what happened was an accident. In a version told by Athenaeus, who was repeating Zenis, Theseus managed to win Minos' affection, which is why Minos put aside his enmity with Athens and allowed Theseus' legal marriage to his daughter, Phaedra. In other words, the end of Minos' tyranny isn’t always achieved only through violence. Although it’s important to note that, in the case of Athenaeus, he seemed to be referring to a pederastic situation due to the context of the text, although it is never made clear whether Theseus reciprocated Minos in any way or if there was any physical involvement. And just for the sake of completeness, in a rationalized version retold by Plutarch (who is quoting Philochorus), the Minotaur was actually a man named Taurus, and when Theseus defeated him in the funeral games, both Ariadne and Minos were in awe, and that was the reason Minos accepted a peaceful agreement. SOURCES: Pausanias’ Description of Greece 1.1.2; Athenaeus of Naucratis’ The Deipnosophistae 13.77; Plutarch’s Life of Theseus 19.1-3.

➤ SURVIVORS: The focus on how Theseus freed the Athenians from Cretan oppression is usually on his killing of the Minotaur, but another detail that some sources emphasize is that he not only killed the Minotaur, but also saved the other young Athenians who were given as tribute. Depending on the source, it’s even emphasized that these survivors formed colonies. According to the scholia of The Iliad 18.590 and visual representation on the François Vase (see here), Theseus and the survivors danced together after the liberation symbolized by the death of the Minotaur. SOURCES: Strabo’s Geography 6.3.6 and 10.4.6; Plutarch’s Life of Theseus 23.1.

➤ LOSING ARIADNE: In the version of the myth in which Ariadne is kidnapped by Dionysus, Theseus mourned her all the way back. This indicates that in this version he cared for her greatly, to the point that his mind was so broken that it made him forget the promise he made to his father Aegeus. In this case, he forget because he was depressed. SOURCES: Pseudo-Apollodorus’ Library E.1.8-10; Diodorus Siculus’ Library of History 4.61.5-6; Philostratus’ 1.15; Pausanias’ Description of Greece 10.29.4.

➤ LOSING ARIADNE 2: This is a continuation of the previous topic (item 8) because I’m uncertain whether it is possible to combine the version in which Dionysus kidnaps Ariadne with the one attested by visual representations (examples:1, 2, 3, 4) in which Athena/Hermes appears to make Theseus abandon Ariadne. But I suppose that if he mourned in the abduction version, it wouldn't be strange if the mourning part was reflected in this one as well. There is also another version, in Plutarch's Life of Theseus 19.3-4, in which Ariadne was abandoned on the island accidentally because a storm blew the ship (Theseus was on it) away while Ariadne was on the island (she went to the island because she was seasick, since she was pregnant). He returned, but Ariadne had died in childbirth before she even saw the baby (she was helped by the women of the island). In this version, to honor her, Theseus made Ariadne a cult figure. Finally, still on the topic of the versions in which Theseus didn’t abandon her, The Odyssey says that she had to be left on Naxos at the wish of Dionysus, who for some reason wanted her dead and Artemis killed Ariadne for him. This version doesn’t appear in texts other than The Odyssey and the Byzantine Homeric scholia, which apparently interpreted the motivation for the death as being that Naxos/Dia had a sacred place for Dionysus and that place was dishonored by the couple having sex, as far as I know, 

➤ SON-FATHER RELATIONSHIP: Theseus is consistently portrayed as having a positive relationship with Aegeus. For example: in Callimachus’ Hecale frag 260 he immediately wishes Aegeus to be notified of his victory over the Marathonian Bull, claiming to ease his father’s worry; many ceramics depict/possibly depict Theseus saying goodbye to Aegeus before a mission (see H.A. Shapiro’s “Comings and Goings: The Iconography of Departure and Arrival on Attic Vases” for an analysis of this type of visual representation). Upon learning that Aegeus committed suicide because he believed Theseus to be dead (because of the sails on the ship); Theseus bestowed Aegeus with honors upon learning of his death, as noted in Plutarch's Life of Theseus 22. Overall, Aegeus seemed to view his son as something of a blessing, since Aegeus had been sterile until Theseus' birth and Theseus' arrival in Athens was a relief to him (for the father-son reunion, check out the sources about Medea trying to get Aegeus to poison Theseus, but failing because Aegeus recognizes the symbols Theseus carries). Judging his son dead, Aegeus committed suicide (attested in several sources), and Theseus, upon returning to what should have been happy news, immediately fell into mourning. It was a truly touching relationship, in my opinion.

➤ CENTAUROMACHY: Theseus attended the wedding of Pirithous and Hippodamia (the name varies depending on the source, but I'm using Hippodamia here), and when the drunken centaurs attacked the guests, Theseus fought them. This is a very famous episode, so rather than provide a long list of sources, suffice it to say that this event is well known as the "Centauromachy" and that by researching this term you will find a lot of literary and visual sources representing Theseus' presence. It’s a really old myth, as Nestor already mentions the episode in Book 1 of The Iliad and the Shield of Heracles (attributed to Hesiod) narrates the scene including Theseus. The Greek hero's confrontations with wild and drunken centaurs and the subsequent defeat of the centaurs are often symbolically perceived as being related to civilization. Therefore, Theseus, as the Athenian national hero, having such a strong presence in such a myth has an obvious symbolism.

➤ DEFENDING OEDIPUS: Depending on the source, Theseus receives Oedipus and Antigone on Athenian land and protects them when Creon comes after them because of the prophecy that the place where Oedipus dies will be blessed with an advantage in war. In Sophocles' play, when speaking to Oedipus, Theseus justifies his attitude by saying that he himself was once an exile and, therefore, wouldn’t judge Oedipus for being in exile. He also cares about what the people think and, seeing that they’re willing to welcome Oedipus, Theseus sees no reason to reject him. SOURCES: Sophocles’ Oedipus at Colonus’ 551-569 and 631-667 and 886-1780; Pseudo-Apollodorus’ Library 3.5.9; Pausanias’ Description of Greece 1.28.7.

➤ RESCUING ARGIVES BODIES: After the end of the war between Thebes (Eteocles' side) and Argos (Polynices' side), Theseus intervened to recover the bodies of the dead Argives so that the grieving mothers could perform the necessary funeral rites. Depending on the source, such as Euripides, it’s further stated that Theseus does so only after obtaining the approval of his people to intervene in a war that theoretically doesn’t concern them. It’s notable that Theseus attempts to do this peacefully through a truce, something that Plutarch points out that he succeeds in most versions, although in Euripides' famous version, when his offer is refused by Creon, he decides that it is justifiable to start a battle in order to recover the bodies. Pausanias justifies the difference between the version in which the truce is successful and the one in which a battle is necessary as the former version being that told by the Thebans, who according to him claim that the bodies were returned voluntarily upon request without the need for Theseus to use the army. In a more unusual version of Lysias, the Athenians (ruled by Theseus) intervened without Adrastus having to make the request because upon learning of what had happened they disapproved of the Theban behavior of refusing to honor the dead. SOURCES: Euripides’ The Suppliants (the entire play), Plutarch’s Life of Theseus 29-3, Isocrates’ Helen 31, Pausanias’ Description of Greece 1.39.2, Pseudo-Apollodorus’ Library 3.7.1, Lysias’ Funeral Oration 2.7; Isocrates’ Panathenaicus 169-171; Aeschylus’s The Men of Eleusis (lost, possibly fragments in edition: 25A, 178, 199, 200, 214, 215, 241).

➤ LOYALTY TO HERACLES: Even after Heracles' reputation was severely damaged because he was known for going mad and violently killing his family, Theseus still believed in him and supported him, believing that since Heracles had proven himself to be a good and loyal friend, it was only fair that he should reciprocate. Not only did Theseus believe in Heracles, but he offered him a place in Athens, despite knowing of the other hero's current bad reputation. In Euripides' play, Theseus' attitude also seems to be built on self-awareness, since Heracles had just rescued Theseus from the punishment in the Underworld, which was imposed on him for committing hubris, and therefore it would have been hypocritical for Theseus to judge Heracles when Heracles hadn’t judged him. Plutarch says that Theseus, grateful for Heracles' help, honored him: "All the sacred precincts which the city had previously set apart for himself, he now dedicated to Heracles, and called them Heracleia instead of Theseia, four only excepted, as Philochorus writes" (trans. Bernadotte Perrin). I’m mentioning only this episode, but the friendship of Heracles and Theseus is quite well attested, from Plutarch writing that the young Theseus admired Heracles and used him as inspiration (6.6-7, 8.1, 11.1, 25.4, 29.3-5) to Theseus being present at Heracles' mission against the Amazons because of Hippolyta's girdle (various sources). Also, the friendship between the two heroes seems to extend to their children, considering that in Euripides' Heraclidae Theseus' son Demophon is an ally of Heracles' sons. SOURCES: Euripides’ Heracles 1178-1404; Plutarch’s Life of Theseus 35; Euripides’ Heraclidae 202-231.

➤ LYRE SKILLS: It’s mentioned that Theseus was skilled in playing the lyre. SOURCES: Astronomica 2.6.3; Pausanias’ Description of Greece 5.19.1.

➤ WRESTLING SKILLS: Theseus was a good wrestler. One of the first times this is emphasized is in the myth of Cercyon (mentioned in item 1), but it also appears in other myths. Pausanias, for example, credits Theseus with teaching wrestling to the people, emphasizing that Theseus had skill when before him people relied on physical characteristics such as strength and size. This is also present in the rationalized version told by Plutarch in which the Minotaur is actually a man named Taurus, since Taurus was defeated by Theseus in the wrestling competition. This skill is also present in visual representations of Theseus, including in the duel against Minotaur (I got this information from an article by Alex Matsangou called "The Social and Political Significance of Theseus the Pankratiast: An Exploration of Form and Function in the Parthenon Centauromachy" that I quickly checked out months ago. I didn't read it all because I was looking for something specific, but what I saw was enough to indicate that the association of wrestling and Theseus was indeed something). SOURCES: Pausanias’ Description of Greece 1.39.3 and 4.32.1; Pseudo-Apollodorus’ Library E.1.3; Plutarch’s Life of Theseus 19.3.

➤ PIOUS BEHAVIOR: He was generally portrayed as being pious. I already have a post listing some sources that indicate this (see here), but I will also emphasize that in two of these sources he doesn't even mind playing effeminate roles for the cults of Dionysus and Apollo, in several of these sources he plays a role as founder of cult habits and in a considerable amount he awaits divine advice to make a decision.

➤ GOOD GOVERNMENT DECISIONS: Theseus tends to be written as generally (not always) being good king for the Athenians. Even when the focus of the play isn’t Theseus and he is a secondary character, he is often shown not to make decisions as king without first consulting the Athenians' opinions. Furthermore, as a national hero, Theseus has been credited with bringing about the democratization of Athens, the creation of important festivals and games and other political and economic aspects such as political alliances, the use of specific currencies and the unification of the Athenian territory. SOURCES: Diodorus Siculus’ Library of History 4.61.9 ; Euripides’ The Suppliants 399-564; Pausanias’ Description of Greece 1.3.3 and 8.2.1; Plutarch’s Life of Theseus 24-25; Strabo’s Geography 9.1.20; Demosthenes’ The Funeral Speech 28; Thucydides’ History of the Peloponnesian War 2.15.2.

➤ BONUS [AGE]: You know the whole thing about the bandits on the way from Troezen to Athens, the capture of the Cretan Bull, the killing of the Minotaur and saving the Athenians, the assumption of the throne after Aegeus' death, the first implementation of public policies, etc? You see, he did all this while being ridiculously YOUNG. Pausanias, in Description of Greece 1.27.8, informs us that Theseus was 16 years old when he left Troezen after raising the stone in which the symbols of Aegeus were hidden (which started the myths discussed in item 1 of the list). A Greek vase about the myth I mentioned in item 5 depicts Theseus in a similar way to how boys like Ganymede and Tithonus are depicted, emphasizing his youth (see here). Furthermore, the sources emphasize how the sacrifices HAD to be young people, and Theseus being one of them only indicates how he was a teenager at the time. In fact, some texts in Greek even use words that clearly indicate young age to designate the 14 youths, among whom Theseus was included, for example “παῖς” in Isocrates’ Helen 10.27. This isn’t exactly a positive point of the character, but I think it makes his achievements even greater, so it is a bonus.

So here it is! I feel like I’m kind of playing devil's advocate in this ask because I know this character is kind of hated here lol. Anyway, you asked me to list 10 positive points, but here are some more points. I'm sorry it took me so long, by the way! Part of the reason I took so long to answer is that, even though I knew what those positive points were, I preferred to provide sources so it would be clear that this isn’t headcanon or my interpretation, it's just what is written in the sources. I also want to emphasize that I have added sources I remember...sources I have read but don't remember, or sources I haven't read aren’t included. And Theseus has MANY surviving literary sources...so there is certainly more to it than what has been said here. He is also extensively attested in visual sources, especially Athenian ones, so yes...you will probably find even more in articles dealing with vase interpretation and the like.

It’s also quite easy to find negative myths about him, however. Theseus is very complex, in this sense. So some examples that counterpoint the positive points listed here are: in the case of the myths of the bandits from Troezen to Athens, there are versions in which in the process of defeating them he harms the families of these people (family members who had no involvement with the crimes committed by these men, I mean); in the case of Ariadne, there are a lot of sources in which he willing abandons her (the motivation varies, from already being in love with another woman to fear of public reaction) and the forgetting to change the colors of the candles has no relation to mourning for Ariadne; despite being mostly pious, Theseus offended the gods when he tried to kidnap Persephone for his friend Pirithous (whose friendship I didn't emphasize as a positive point like I did with Heracles because... honestly, I consider it a negative point lol don't get me wrong, I love their friendship, but the two of them together seem to almost never do anything approvable); despite being mostly a good king during the early and middle time of his reign, some sources point out that his reign ended up getting more and more fragile over time as Theseus became more and more reckless and selfish (this part encompasses several aspects of him, like the thing with Hippolyta/Antiope and Helen. And note that, in the case of Hippolyta/Antiope, even in the version where the two are genuinely a couple and there is consent from both, the behavior is still quite questionable because he didn't consider the political consequences); although his relationship with Aegeus is positive, Aegeus' death is indirectly Theseus' fault even though he obviously didn’t want it and his recklessness in the joint plan with Pirithous led to his mother Aethra being enslaved by the Dioscuri and Helen (again, Theseus obviously didn't want this and later Theseus's sons rescue her from slavery...but well, he could have cared more about how the consequences might affect her). Therefore, I find him interesting precisely because he has this non-linear development, which I find quite human. I think he's much more than just an idiot, he really deserves more attention.

It isn’t written with the intention of indicating to people how they should imagine Patroclus. As is notable in the sources here, not even the authors agree with each other and Patroclus' appearance seems to have been much more uncertain compared to characters like Odysseus and Achilles, whose iconography is generally quite recognizable.

It's not educational. This is more of me sharing how I'm so obsessed with Patroclus that I desperately need more content to the point that I'm here using my time to do something so... specific. As someone who doesn't know Greek and isn't an expert on Greek culture, I'm not posting this with the intention of providing educational information. You know when someone posts about an obscure official art of a character from a game? Well, it's more like that. Don't take me too seriously. This post being just a random moment also explains why I'm not even giving information about the sources listed, as I usually do.

It’s written by someone who knows neither Greek nor Latin. As will become quite obvious, I just obsessively compare online dictionaries, different translations and read articles explaining possible meanings of a word/phase. In turn, note that, as the intention is to get an idea of ​​how the ancients saw the character, I’m focusing on more literal translations. It doesn't mean that because one translator here sounds less literal than the other that his translation is bad, they’re just different ways of translating. 

It doesn’t include all existing representations of Patroclus. For example, I’m not considering things like medieval Italian, French, etc texts. I’m considering ancient Greek and Roman texts + Byzantine texts. For visual representations, I’m considering Etruscan ones as well. And even then, I’m obviously not going to collect them all by myself.

Since I didn't intend to post this, I just made a brief edit to make the text more "readable". However, it's still a pretty dubious edit, so I'm going to disable reblogging to prevent a post with a glaring error from being immortalized in a reblog. If you want to talk about it, comment, ask, send a DM, whatever. But unfortunately, no reblog tags.

The Iliad, Homer

In Book 16, Patroclus arms himself with Achilles' armor to go to war since Achilles still refuses to fight. He takes everything except the spear, as it is said that no one but Achilles can lift it. But while Patroclus has difficulty with the spear, he has no difficulty with the armor. There is no mention of it being too loose or too tight, which could be interpreted as Achilles and Patroclus being similar in size:

So he spoke, and Patroclus began to arm himself with gleaming bronze.  First he strapped the splendid greaves around his shins, fitted with silver bindings around his ankles; next he girt about his chest the breastplate— elaborate, star-strewn—of swift-footed Aeacides; across his shoulders he slung his bronze sword studded with silver; and then the great strong shield; over his powerful head he placed the well-forged helmet with its flowing horsehair; and terribly the crest nodded on it. He took strong spears, fitted to his hand. Only the spear of blameless Aeacides he did not take up, heavy, massive, powerful; this no other of the Achaeans could wield, but only Achilles knew how to wield it, the spear of Pelian ash, which Chiron gave to his beloved father from the heights of Mount Pelion to be death to warriors.

16.130-144. Translation by Caroline Alexander.

In comparison, when Hector wears armor in Book 17 (he got it from Patroclus, now dead), Zeus makes the armor grow to fit Hector, possibly indicating that Hector is larger than both Patroclus and Achilles:

[...] and the son of Cronus nodded with his blue-black brows; he fitted the armor upon Hector’s body, and the terrible battle spirit  of Ares entered him, and Hector’s limbs were filled inside with strength and courage. And he went toward his illustrious allies crying aloud, and appeared to them all made bright by the armor of the great-hearted son of Peleus [...]

17.208-214 . Translation by Caroline Alexander.

But there is a problem here. It’s possible, of course, to interpret that Achilles and Patroclus are similar in size, but Hector is larger than both. This wouldn’t be impossible if we try to rationalize it with ideas like “well, Achilles is a runner, he must have a slender build” and “Hector is older and has a similar fighting style to Big Ajax, it’s normal for him to be more robust” and “Patroclus is supposed to be complementary to Achilles, perhaps that includes appearance” and, consequently, Patroclus wouldn’t be physically very robust because Achilles isn’t. But there is a catch! It has also been suggested that this scene has nothing to do with literal body dimensions. Instead, it’s referring to the roles of each character, something much more metaphorical!

In the metaphorical interpretation, the armor is a metaphor for the narrative role that Achilles plays as the greater warrior. By assuming the armor, Patroclus assumes the narrative role of Achilles, even receiving the same epithets and assuming a personality similar to his during his aristeia (moment when a character shows himself to be aristos, that is, better). He, however, cannot truly take over Achilles' position in its entirety while he is absent, and that is why he dies. This was already premeditated when, when putting on his companion's armor, Patroclus was unable to carry the spear given to Achilles by Peleus, who had received it from Chiron, because it was so heavy that only Achilles was able to lift it. It was also made evident by the apostrophes employed in Patroclus in Book 16 (those moments when the poet spoke directly to the Patroclus whenever he got closer and closer to death). But, as the description of the spear itself indicates, not only is Patroclus not able to assume Achilles' narrative role (he is unable to lift the spear) but no one else is able to do so (only Achilles is able to lift the spear). Hector, by taking Achilles' armor from Patroclus and putting it on, also indirectly becomes a parallel to Achilles with regard to his role on the battlefield. But Zeus having to force the armor to fit Hector was already an indication that he couldn’t be Achilles either, just as him only being able to defeat the “fake Achilles” (Patroclus) with the help of two gods (Zeus, Apollo) and a human (Euphorbus) also predicts this — he didn’t single-handedly overcome the false Achilles who, as Apollo himself made clear when he spoke to Patroclus before pushing him off the wall, wasn’t as good as the real one in terms of power, so how could he overcome the real one? Achilles gets a new armor, picks up his spear that only he lifts, returns to the field and kills Hector, definitively reclaiming his narrative position as the greatest warrior. And, in this scenario, Patroclus fitting into Achilles’ armor and Hector not fitting wouldn’t concern literal body dimensions, but would only indicate that Patroclus, as Achilles's complement (reinforced by the mixed ashes), was more intimate with this narrative role than Hector, who had to be forced into it by Zeus. And ironically, Zeus is the one who allows Patroclus' moment of glory and then indirectly kills him and is the one who makes Hector part of the plan to kill Patroclus (also being the one who makes him fit on the armor), but is the one who premeditates that Hector will have to die for killing Patroclus. Being the one represented in The Iliad with the scales and with the function of respecting Fate, Zeus is the mediator of this exchange of narrative roles symbolized by the armor.

So I suppose it's up to the reader which interpretation they like best. Is it literal? That is, Patroclus and Achilles are similar in size, but Hector is taller than them? Is it symbolic? That is, the armor merely symbolizes Achilles' narrative role? Or both?

Also in Book 16 we have “[...] Μενοιτιάδεω Πατροκλῆος λάσιον κῆρ” (16.554). The first two terms are relatively identifiable even for those who don't know Greek just by the context, in this case it's just Menotiades (son of Menoetius) and the name Patroclus. As for the other two, “λάσιον” can be “hair, rough, shaggy, bushy, overgrown” and “κῆρ” is “heart”. Some translations end up opting for something that, in English, the equivalent would be “hairy chest” (I don’t know if there is an English translation that uses this type of choice, I’m thinking of a non-English translations when I say “hairy chest”. I've seen this most often in Latin languages), which would perhaps invoke in the reader the idea that Patroclus has a hairy chest. Although I have seen this choice in other editions, I’ll only use Frederico Lourenço as an example. Well, this idea would also apply to Achilles and Hephaestus because they’re given the same descriptive (“peito hirsuto”, meaning “hairy chest”). Pilemenes receives a similar description, but with a more literal translation that would be something like “hairy heart” (“coração hirsuto”). Although Frederico Lourenço used something like “hairy chest”, he doesn’t seem to have had literal intentions with this choice of translation since with Pilemenes he opted for “hairy heart” and, as we know, this isn’t exactly a very literal image. I got the impression that he wanted to convey something emotional, which, checking known English translations, seems to have been the understanding of other translators as well — for example, Fagles opted for “savage spirit” and Alexander opted for “rugged-hearted.”

Regarding this Homeric formula:

And whereas λάσιος normally means ‘hairy, densely grown’, the Homeric formula λάσιον κῆρ can be understood as denoting a clever mind. Nussbaum (1976: 69) already drew attention to the following verses: δαυλοὶ γὰρ πραπίδων δάσκιοί τε τείνουσιν πόροι (…) A. Supp. 93–94 For dense and heavily shadowed the ways of his mind stretch out

Remaining Issues Concerning *r̥ by Lucien Van Beek, pg 382.

Sciarraba also says: “Anche il nesso λάσιον κῆρ (Il. XVI, 554 ed Od. II, 851, lett. “cuore, petto villoso”) designa metaforicamente il cuore vigoroso, coraggioso” (Uso e accezione degli psiconimi nella poesia elegiaca latina di età augustea: fra tradizione e innovazione, pg 37, note 183). That is, this structure aims to designate someone vigorous, courageous in a metaphorical way. Note that the Italian “petto” means “chest”, similar with the Portuguese “peito”.

Conclusion: it’s a metaphorical description. Not only does the term “κῆρ“ refer more to “heart” than to “chest”, but the intention is to accentuate a personality trait and not a physical characteristic of the character. Thus, The Iliad didn’t simply find it relevant to comment that the characters’ chests are hairy, but rather found it relevant to emphasize their prowess of mind and spirit. Thus, it isn’t an indication of Patroclus’ appearance.

In Book 23, the ghost of Patroclus appears to Achilles with the intention of asking Achilles to give him funeral honors, since his ghost is trapped outside Hades because his body remains unburied. He also takes the opportunity to ask for something more specific: that, when Achilles dies, his ashes be mixed with Achilles'. The ghost, however, disappears when Achilles tries to embrace him. At this moment, Patroclus is described like this:

And when sleep took hold of him, melting the cares of his heart, sweet, enveloping sleep—for his shining limbs were exhausted from hounding Hector to windswept Ilion— there came to him the shade of poor Patroclus, like to him in every way, his great stature, his fine eyes, his voice, even the clothes such as his body wore. And this stood above Achilles’ head and spoke a word to him: [...]

23.62-68. Translation by Caroline Alexander.

I looked for a Greek version and apparently the part “like to him in every way, his great stature, his fine eyes/his voice, even the clothes such as his body wore“ in Greek would be “πάντ' αὐτῷ μέγεθός τε καὶ ὄμματα κάλ' ἐϊκυῖα/καὶ φωνήν, καὶ τοῖα περὶ χροὶ̈ εἵματα ἕστο” (66-67).

According to the Cambridge Greek Lexicon, “μέγεθος” can translate to things like “size”, “magnitude”, “tallness”, “stature”, “build” “height” and other similar things when it comes to body dimensions. The dictionary uses Homer as an example in meaning 3, which is:

3 bodily size (esp. in terms of height); stature, build, tallness (of persons, deities, animals, mythol. beings) Hom. Hes. Tyrt. A. Hdt. Pl.

So it seems that Patroclus's physique had some notable enough dimension that this is something that is used to indicate how similar his shade is to his real self. From what I understand, it seems to refer more specifically to height in this particular context, which would imply that Patroclus is ´possibly tall. But of course, other possible meanings allude not necessarily to height, but to size (i.e. robustness). If you consider the way in which it is reinforced that Patroclus's shade is very similar to his living self, it’s safe to assume that his physical measurements are also the same and therefore this isn’t a glorified afterlife vision, but a faithfully sized image of Patroclus while alive, and that this could be a Homeric nod to the way heroic cult images were seen. That is, the evocation of a hero in cult would show him as he was in life:

[...] In Homer they are all apparently life-size. When the psychē of Patroclus appears to Achilles, “in every way, in stature and his beautiful eyes and in voice he is like himself, πάντʼ αὐτῷ μέγεθός τε καὶ ὄμματα κάλʼ ἐϊκυῖα / καὶ φωνήν (Iliad 23.66-7; 102). Like an eidōlon in Homeric usage, a cult hero occupies an interstitial space. From the vantage point of the living, both can move between realms, and importantly, retain agency in both worlds. [...]

Invoking Achilles: Black-figure Iconography and Hero Cult by Stan Burgess.

The part that describes Patroclus’ eyes is “ὄμματα κάλʼ”. The Cambridge Greek Lexicon informs me that “ὄμματα” can actually be translated as “eye” or even as “look”, but unfortunately I haven’t found an English dictionary that tells me about “κάλ” specifically. However, I have seen that Deyvis Deniz Machin translated it as “hermoso” into Spanish in a magazine and that a thesis by Gaia Di Giacomo translated it as “belle” into Italian. So I’m going to assume that it is indeed being said that Patroclus has beautiful eyes.

His voice and clothes are also mentioned. The clothes aren’t relevant now, but the voice would be interesting. However, there are no details about it, the only thing we know is that it is the same voice as when he was alive. He could have a squeaky voice and I wouldn't know!

There is also a detail in this scene, however:

TEXTO ORIGINAL 

[...] Ahora bien, lo que me gustaría resaltar acá no es tanto el hecho de que la psychế de Patroclo venga descrita como εἴδωλον, esto es, sombra, espectro, imagen u holograma, tampoco el hecho de que ésta venga a confirmar que, en  tanto individuo, Patroclo ha abandonado definitivamente la vida, ni siquiera que, en tanto sombra o espectro, a lo sumo él sea una experiencia de vida exclusivamente subjetiva venida en sueños a Aquiles, es decir, el sueño de Aquiles es lo que otorgaría realidad, para no decir existencia, a Patroclo. Indiscutiblemente, todas estas conexiones son muy relevantes; no obstante, deseo llamar la atención sobre otro elemento que, aunque conexo con éstos, es aún más sutil y complejo al tiempo que enriquecedor para poder comprender la relación entre corporeidad, facultades e identidad personal; dicho en términos muchos más generales, entre anatomía y psicología o, dicho algo más prosaicamente, entre carne, cuerpo e identidad, puesto que ello fue constituyendo no sólo el punto de partida, sino al mismo tiempo la piedra de toque de cualquier tentativa de abordaje en torno al alma. La respuesta de Aquiles a su compañero adquiere en este sentido especial significación, toda vez que recalca que en el reino de Hades el alma desencarnada no goza de vitalidad ni facultades.

Congresso Internacional de Filosofia Grega:  El Alma o de la Posibilidad de Palpar-se con el Mundo, by Deyvis Deniz Machín, pg 260. 

IMPROVISED TRANSLATION

[...] Now, what I would like to emphasize here isn’t so much the fact that Patroclus’ psychế is described as εἴδωλον, that is, shade, spectre, image or hologram, nor the fact that this confirms that, as an individual, Patroclus has definitively abandoned life, nor even that, as a shade or spectre, he is at most an exclusively subjective life experience that comes to Achilles in a dream, that is, Achilles’ dream is what would grant reality, if not existence, to Patroclus. Undoubtedly, all these connections are very relevant; nevertheless, I wish to draw attention to another element that, although connected to these, is even more subtle and complex while enriching to understand the relationship between corporeality, faculties and personal identity: In much more general terms, between anatomy and psychology or, more prosaically, between flesh, body and identity, since this was not only the starting point, but also the touchstone of any attempt to approach the soul. Achilles' response to his companion takes on special significance in this sense, since it emphasizes that in the realm of Hades the disembodied soul has neither vitality nor faculties.

Congresso Internacional de Filosofia Grega:  El Alma o de la Posibilidad de Palpar-se con el Mundo, by Deyvis Deniz Machín, pg 260. 

As noted, there is a subjective aspect to this scene to some extent. If you prefer to give more consideration to the interpretation that Patroclus is a subjective view of Achilles rather than the interpretation that Patroclus is a nod to hero worship, then you might consider that he may not be being described objectively. That is, perhaps he is of remarkable stature and has beautiful eyes because that is the image Achilles has of him in the dream. Achilles, who has been mourning him for days, would see any opportunity to have Patroclus back alive as something idealized. And it would be for this reason, and not because it’s a nod to perceptions of hero worship, that the narrative emphasizes that he looks as he did when he was alive: because Achilles, in his mind, wishes to have him alive. In fact, Patroclus looks so alive that Achilles even tries to embrace him, seeming to forget that he is dead and only remembering when, when he tries, Patroclus's form fades away.

So again, it's up to the reader's interpretation, I guess. Is the image really 100% faithful to Patroclus or is it altered by Achilles' subjectivity?

In this dialogue (Book 23, I mean), Patroclus also says that he and Achilles grew up together. The idea of ​​"growing up together" would be quite meaningless if we were talking about, for example, characters with many years of age difference because at that point one of them would already be grown up. Therefore, I believe this implies that, although Patroclus is older (something explicitly stated in Book 11), the difference isn’t that significant. Achilles doesn’t appear to be the youngest (for example, Antilochus appears to be younger), but he is one of the younger men in the army. Patroclus being only slightly older could put him either in the younger age range or in a more typical age range (not too old, not too young to be on a military campaign).

Myrmidons, Aeschylus

Aeschylus wrote a lost trilogy focused on Achilles, with the first play apparently dealing with the mourning of the dead Patroclus. It's called Myrmidons, and among the fragments we have this:

No reverence hadst thou for the unsullied holiness of thy limbs, oh thou most ungrateful for my many kisses!

Aeschylus, frag 64. Translation by Herbert Weir Smyth.

And the Greek text:

σέβας δέ μηρῶν ἀγνόν ουκ ἐπηδέσω, ὢ δυσχάριστε τῷν πυκνῶν φιλημάτων μηρῶν τε τῶν σῶν εὐσέβησ᾽ ὁμιλίαν κλαίων

From what I understand, the term that describes the part of Patroclus' body that Achilles is referring to is "μηρῶν", which, from what I've seen, refers to the thighs. So, Achilles is basically talking about kissing and Patroclus' thighs. I've seen people take this as a sign that Patroclus has killer thighs, and I'm honestly not going to deny the possibility of this headcanon. But personally, I think Achilles is saying this to emphasize the aspect of their relationship and not Patroclus' appearance. And considering how other authors have used this line as a sign of how Aeschylus viewed their relationship, it seems that this was the meaning:

Plato's well-known excerpt about the relationship between Patroclus and Achilles is a kind of response to Aeschylus' interpretation, as Plato disagreed on who was "eromenos" and who was "erates" (Symposium, 179-180). Plutarch also mentions this Aeschylus' fragment in Amatorius in a non-platonic context:

Add to this of Solon that other of Aeschylus: "Ungrateful, for the kisses of my lips, Not to revere the glory of my lips."

Amatorius, 5. Translation by "several hands". See in Greek here.

Athenaeus of Naucratis also appears to reference this play by Aeschylus in a romantic sense.

And, in fact, there was such emulation about composing poems of this sort, and so far was any one from thinking lightly of the amatory poets, that Aeschylus, who was a very great poet, and Sophocles, too, introduced the subject of the loves of men on the stage in their tragedies: the one describing the love of Achilles for Patroclus [...]

The Deipnosophists, 13.75. Translation by Henry G. Bohn.

This excerpt from Aeschylus being interpreted as sexual and/or romantic also seems to have remained in the Roman Greece, since the text "Amores", attributed to Lucian of Samosata, refers the Aeschylus excerpt in a sexual context in 54.

[...] Do not be surprised: Patroclus in fact, was not loved by Achilles just because he was seated before him, waiting for Achilles to finish his song…but it was lust that mediated their friendship. For Achilles, moaning upon the death of Patroklos, allows his unrestrained passion to burst out with the power of truth when he says: "The holy commerce of your thighs my tears do mourn". I also believe that those whom the Greeks call ‘comastes' are none other than professional lovers. Some might call this a shameful thing to say, but at least it is the truth, by the Aphrodite of Cnidus!

Amores, 54. Translation by Andrew Kallimachos. In Greek here. Note: This excerpt was used only to show the use of Aeschylus. The context of the text as a whole is best seen by reading.

That is, I do not consider this to be a physical-focused portrait of Patroclus, but an emotional portrait-focused of Patroclus and Achilles.

Fabulae, Hyginus or Pseudo-Hyginus

Fabulae is a Latin collection of myths, apparently using a lot of Greek authors as references given the number of times it references them (Euripides, Aeschylus, Apollonius, etc). The authorship is a matter of debate, with the Roman Hyginus generally being the most suggested name. However, as there are arguments that it doesn't make sense to be him for X reasons, Pseudo-Hyginus is also a nomenclature used to indicate that it isn’t really Hyginus as previously thought. There is no shockingly detailed description here, you just need to know that the author of this mythographic collection thought it would be relevant to make a list of the most beautiful ones. And guess who is on it?

THOSE WHO WERE MOST HANDSOME: Iasion, son of Ilithius, whom Ceres is said to have loved [credible, since vouched for by old histories]. Cinyras, son of Paphos, king of the Assyrians. Anchises, son of Assaracus, whom Venus loved. Alexander Paris, son of Priam and Hecuba, whom Helen followed. Nireus, son of Charops. Cephalus, son of Pandion, whom Aurora loved. Tithonus, husband of Aurora. Parthenopaeus, son of Meleager and Atalanta. Achilles, son of Peleus and Thetis. Patroclus, son of Menoetius. Idomeneus, who loved Helen. Theseus, son of Aegeus and Aethra, whom Ariadne loved.

Translation by Mary Grant.

Anyway, the only information that Fabulae gives us about Patroclus’ physical appearance is that he was hot enough to be on the “hottest” list. And here we have the issue of possible reader interpretations. “Handsome”, “pretty” and “beautiful” in English often evoke different beauties in the reader and only when you type these terms into Google do you realize this because the resulting images are different. In particular, “handsome” is in the common imagination associated with a more masculine and sober beauty. For example, this is how Dictionary Colins describes “handsome”:

1. adjectivo B1 A handsome man has an attractive face with regular features. ...a tall, dark, handsome sheep farmer.  pretty Synonims good-looking, attractive, gorgeous [informal], fine   Mais sinônimos de handsome 2. adjectivo B2 A handsome woman has an attractive appearance with features that are large and regular rather than small and delicate. ...an extremely handsome woman with a beautiful voice.

So perhaps a reader of Mary Grant (the translator) might think that here Fabulae is necessarily indicating that Patroclus is handsome in the sense of a guy with a defined jaw, sharp eyes, tall, etc, but not necessarily. Note, for example, that Paris is one of the men listed and he was definitely not an example of traditional masculinity. Was good-looking? Yes, he was, that is a constant characteristic of him. But he wasn’t considered masculine by the other characters, nor by the authors of the time. The Latin text I found online indicates that the part “those who were most handsome” in Latin is “qui formosissimi fuerunt”, and an online Latin Lexicon I found says:

fōrmōsus (fōrmōnsus) adj. with comp. and sup. forma, finely formed, beautiful, handsome: pyramidis (forma) videtur esse formosior: virgines formosissimae: Vis formosa videri, H.: Formosi pecoris custos formosior ipse, V.: omnium aetatis suae formosissimus, N.: tempus (i. e. ver), O.: oculis, O.: nihil{*}est virtute formosius.

And according to Wiktionary, “formosissimi” is actually masculine, but there are feminine versions of this term, whose meaning is apparently the same and the change is only for grammatical reasons. So I imagine that Fabulae was referring to a broader type of beauty, not necessarily indicating in what way these characters were beautiful.

Heroica, Philostrathus

Heroica, or On Heroes, is a text by Philostratus. There was more than one Philostratus and the authorship of Heroica is debated, the identification being somewhat complicated because the two Philostratus lived in similar times and in fact apparently belonged to the same family and had styles similar enough to be inspired by each other. For the sake of differentiation, one is known as the Elder (or the Athenian) and the other is known as the Younger. Authorial issues aside, Heroica has a very specific context. It was written during the Second Sophistic, a period in which authors often promoted true versions of the mythological account of the Trojan War, especially in opposition to the “Homeric canon” so to speak. Heroica does the same, including often comparing its own account with that given by Homer, thus making clear the intention of “revising” the facts. In the case of Philostrathus, he especially seemed focused on the idea of ​​heroic worship, that is, cults offered in honor of mortals who achieved some notable glory. It’s different from the cult of a deity, to be clear. Heroic cults were mainly regional, which resulted in different perceptions of those characters. In some cases, it was possible for a hero to have a cult that was especially predominant in an area, as is the case with the especially strong and documented cult of Achilles in the Euxines Pontus/Black Sea, although this specific cult has generated much debate as to whether it was truly a heroic cult (as, for example, happens in the cult of Achilles at the site identified as his tomb) or whether it was a divine cult (as there have been archaeological finds that seem to imply the view of Achilles as a deified hero). Indeed, The Iliad has been interpreted by academics as being a pan-Hellenic work that used several regional heroes in a single and big narrative, and there has been much debate about possible hints of hero worship practice within the lines of The Iliad (one example used for this was the funeral of Patroclus, for example, which contained elements that academics have identified as resembling cult practices and, therefore, being a possible indication that Homer was actually using cult heroes before him in a unified pan-Hellenic, narrative). Here, Philostratus seems to have the intention of rescuing cult heroes that were “appropriated” in the Homeric narrative (his opinion, in this case), and one way he uses to do this is to try to invoke credibility through the character Protesilaus by claiming that the information brought in the Heroica was given by Protesilaus, also a cult hero of the Trojan War. [Note: This explanation was HEAVILY based on Gregory Nagy's introduction to the Jennifer K. Berenson Maclean and Ellen Bradshaw Aitken translation, as well as several other texts I researched months ago when I was trying to learn about Achilles Pontarches. There is a post about Achilles Pontarches, so anyone who is curious can check out the texts used there].

In Heroica, the description of Patroclus, based on the supposed words of Protesilaus, is as follows:

My guest, Protesilaos says that Patroklos, although he was not much older than Achilles, was a divine and sensible man, the most suitable companion for Achilles. He said that Patroklos rejoiced whenever Achilles also rejoiced, was distressed in the same manner, was always giving some advice when he sang. Protesilaos says that even his horses carried Patroklos safe and sound, just as they did Achilles. In size and bravery he was between the two Ajaxes. He fell short of the son of Telamon in all things, but he surpassed both the size and bravery of the son of Locris. Patroklos had an olive complexion, black eyes, and sufficiently fine eyebrows, and he commended moderately long hair. His head stood upon his neck as the wrestling schools cultivate. His nose was straight, and he flared his nostrils as eager horses do (translation by Jennifer K. Berenson Maclean and Ellen Bradshaw Aitken)

In Greek, the text is as follows:

τὸν δὲ Πάτροκλον ὁ Πρωτεσίλεως, ὦ ξένε, πρεσβύτερον μὲν τοῦ Ἀχιλλέως οὐ πολὺ γενέσθαι φησί, θεῖον δὲ ἄνδρα καὶ σώφρονα τῷ τε Ἀχιλλεῖ ἐπιτηδειότατον τῶν ἑταίρων, χαίρειν τε γάρ, ὁπότε καὶ ὁ Ἀχιλλεὺς ἔχαιρε, λυπεῖσθαί τε τὸν αὐτὸν τρόπον καὶ ξυμβουλεύειν ἀεί τι καὶ ἀκούειν ᾄδοντος, καὶ οἱ ἵπποι δὲ αὐτὸν ἔφερον χαίροντες, ὥσπερ καὶ τὸν Ἀχιλλέα. ἦν δὲ καὶ τὸ μέγεθος καὶ τὴν ἀνδρείαν μεταξὺ τοῖν Αἰάντοιν, τοῦ μὲν γὰρ Τελαμωνίου πάντα ἐλείπετο, ἐκράτει δὲ ἄμφω τοῦ Λοκροῦ, καὶ μελίχλωρος ἦν ὁ Πάτροκλος καὶ τὼ ὀφθαλμὼ μέλας καὶ ἱκανῶς εὔοφρυς καὶ μέτρα ἐπαινῶν κόμης, ἡ κεφαλὴ δὲ ἐβεβήκει ἐπ᾽ αὐχένος, οἵου αἱ παλαῖστραι ἀσκοῦσιν, ἡ δὲ ῥὶς ὀρθή τε ἦν καὶ τοὺς μυκτῆρας ἀνευρύνετο, καθάπερ οἱ πρόθυμοι τῶν ἵππων.

I've made it quite clear that I don't know Greek, and so no, I'm not about to attempt a proper translation here. I'm just trying to identify specific words, and after what must have been endless online dictionary searches, I've come up with the following:

Apparently, “although he was not much older than Achilles”bin Greek is perhaps “πρεσβύτερον μὲν τοῦ Ἀχιλλέως οὐ πολὺ γενέσθαι φησί”

Apparently, “In size and bravery he was between the two Ajaxes. He fell short of the son of Telamon in all things, but he surpassed both the size and bravery of the son of Locris” in Greek is perhaps “ἦν δὲ καὶ τὸ μέγεθος καὶ τὴν ἀνδρείαν μεταξὺ τοῖν Αἰάντοιν, τοῦ μὲν γὰρ Τελαμωνίου πάντα ἐλείπετο, ἐκράτει δὲ ἄμφω τοῦ Λοκροῦ”

Apparently, “Patroklos had an olive complexion” in Greek is perhaps “μελίχλωρος ἦν ὁ Πάτροκλος”.

Apparently, “black eyes” in Greek perhaps come from this part: “καὶ τὼ ὀφθαλμὼ μέλας”

Apparently, “sufficiently fine eyebrows” in Greek perhaps come from this part: “καὶ ἱκανῶς εὔοφρυς”

Apparently, “he commended moderately long hair” in Greek perhaps come from this part: “καὶ μέτρα ἐπαινῶν κόμης”

Apparently, “His head stood upon his neck as the wrestling schools cultivate” in Greek perhaps come from this part: “ἡ κεφαλὴ δὲ ἐβεβήκει ἐπ᾽αὐχένος, οἵου αἱ παλαῖστραι ἀσκοῦσιν”

Apparently, “His nose was straight, and he flared his nostrils as eager horses do” in Greek is perhap “ἡ δὲ ῥὶς ὀρθή τε ἦν καὶ τοὺς μυκτῆρας ἀνευρύνετο, καθάπερ οἱ πρόθυμοι τῶν ἵππων”.

And honestly, the translation in this edition seems quite faithful! I've seen people complain about how the descriptions in this translation supposedly seem strange, but I got the impression that the translators were just trying to maintain the vibe and rhythm of the original.

First, let's look at age. Where texts usually don't mention age for Patroclus or just let us know that he is older, Philostrathus makes it clear that Patroclus isn’t much older (in Greek “πρεσ” is “older” while “οὐ πολὺ” can be translated as “not much”). So, for example, 10 years of difference would be a disposable idea in Heroica. Considering that Achilles is young (something Heroica also highlights with “Achilles was a young man and Ajax a grown man”), the idea of ​​Patroclus being only slightly older also implies that he is young.

Another characteristic we have is Patroclus' height, although it isn’t an exact description. We know it’s about size that is being referred to because the word translated as "size" is probably “μέγεθος” in the Greek text, and according to the Cambridge Greek Lexicon, the possible meanings for this are: greatness, magnitude, size, height, stature. He is said to be shorter than Ajax Telamonian, but taller than Ajax Locrian. And honestly, that doesn't tell me much. He could be shorter than Ajax Telamonian and be tall, average or short, since this Ajax is very tall. And he could be taller than Ajax Locrian and not necessarily be tall. Anyway, height is inconclusive.

Although “sufficiently fine eyebrows” may seem like a strange description to some people, in Greek we have that in a rather crude and literal translation:

καὶ ἱκανῶς εὔοφρυς [and][sufficient][fine eyebrows]

According to Liddell, ἱκανῶς when describing things (in this case, eyebrows) means “sufficient, adequate.” When referring to size, it can mean “large enough.” According to LSJ, “εὔοφρυς eúophrys” (being ophrys eyebrow) is literally something like “with fine eyebrows.” So even though describing someone as having “fine enough eyebrows” doesn’t seem like a very common compliment, the translators were really just trying to preserve the original sense. This word also appears in the Greek Anthology in a text by Rufinus, a Greek poet from Roman Greece:

αὕτη πρόσθεν ἔην ἐρατόχροος, εἰαρόμασθος, εὔσφυρος, εὐμήκης, εὔοφρυς, εὐπλόκαμος: ἠλλάχθη δὲ χρόνῳ καὶ γήραϊ καὶ πολιαῖσι, καὶ νῦν τῶν προτέρων οὐδ᾽ ὄναρ οὐδὲν ἔχει, ἀλλοτρίας δὲ τρίχας, καὶ ῥυσῶδες τὸ πρόσωπον, οἷον γηράσας οὐδὲ πίθηκος ἔχει.

Greek Anthology, 5.76. 

The translation in the book by Marguerite Johnson and Terry Ryan says:

Once upon a time her appearance aroused desire: breasts springing with  youth,  strong and healthy, tall, with fine eyebrows, hair like a goddess. The passage of time and old age and grey hair have brought change,  and now she is not even a shadow of what she once was, but decks herself in wigs and her face is rutted with wrinkles,  and her features are like those of an aged ape. 

Sexuality in Greek and Roman Society and Literature, pg 172.

One interesting thing I discovered is that the Byzantine chronicler Constantine Manasses described Helen, the most beautiful of women, also with “εὔοφρυς”. I discovered this randomly because, while searching for the word, one of the results was the Gutenberg Project. I didn’t read the whole text because I honestly only clicked on it for that purpose, but one part says:

Even Constantinus Manasses sought to adorn his bald chronicle with a picture of Helen. I must thank him for the attempt, for I really should not know where else to turn for so striking an example of the folly of venturing on what Homer’s wisdom forbore to undertake. When I read in him:

ἦν ἡ γυνὴ περικαλλὴς, εὔοφρυς, εὐχρουστάτη, εὐπάρειος, εὐπρόσωπος, βοῶπις, χιονόχρους, ἑλικοβλέφαρος, ἁβρὰ, χαρίτων γέμον ἄλσος, λευκοβραχίων, τρυφερὰ, κάλλος ἄντικρυς ἔμπνουν, τὸ πρόσωπον κατάλευκον, ἡ παρειὰ ῥοδόχρους, τὸ πρόσωπον ἐπίχαρι, τὸ βλέφαρον ὡραῖον, κάλλος ἀνεπιτήδευτον, ἀβάπτιστον, αὐτόχρουν, ἔβαπτε τὴν λευκότητα ῥοδόχροια πυρσίνη, 128ὡς εἴ τις τὸν ἐλέφαντα βάψει λαμπρᾷ πορφύρᾳ. δειρὴ μακρά, κατάλευκος, ὅθεν ἐμυθουργήθη κυκνογενῆ τὴν εὔοπτον Ἑλένην χρηματίζειν

And a note translates: 

“She was a woman right beautiful, with fine eyebrows, of clearest complexion, beautiful cheeks; comely, with large, full eyes, with snow-white skin, quick-glancing, graceful; a grove filled with graces, fair-armed, voluptuous, breathing beauty undisguised. The complexion fair, the cheek rosy, the countenance pleasing, the eye blooming; a beauty unartificial, untinted, of its natural color, adding brightness to the brightest cherry, as if one should dye ivory with resplendent purple. Her neck long, of dazzling whiteness; whence she was called the swan-born, beautiful Helen.”

So, while I honestly don’t understand why this is a compliment, it’s at least intriguing that I have found this same compliment directed at women in contexts where this characteristic is meant to denote great beauty. In the case of Rufinus, he describes a woman who in her youth was immensely beautiful, but whose aging has made her unattractive (this second part has a jocular tone in the text). In the first part, where Rufinus lists the physical characteristics that made her so desirable when she was young, it says “fine eyebrows.” And, according to the book already cited (the one I got the translation from), this passage is specifically intended to describe a heitara. In ancient times, a heitara had to be not only pleasant and educated company, but also immensely beautiful. In the chronicle of Constantine Manasses, the word is present in the description of Helen, famously known as the most beautiful woman, and therefore the word is here to emphasize how beautiful she is. Finally, in a book of Greek folklore called, there is a story called “The Wicked Mother-in-Law”, said to have been know by M.E Legrand, and the protagonist Konstantine is described as having “braid-fine eyebrows” (Greek folk poetry, annotated translations from the whole cycle of Romaic folk-verse and folk-prose, pg 185). However, other than Google recommending this book to me when I searched for “fine eyebrows” in association with Greek texts, I know nothing more about this apparently folkloric story. I don’t even know if “braid-fine eyebrows” is intended to be “εὔοφρυς”. In any case, what I understand from this research is that Protesilaus thinks Patroclus is hot.

The same principle of “sufficient”, “moderate”, “enough” applies to the hair. In English it’s taken as “he commended moderately long hair” and in Greek:

καὶ μέτρα ἐπαινῶν κόμης [and][length][to praise/praising][hair of the head]

When put in this extremely literal and simplistic form, ἐπαινῶν seems kind of random, but considering how dictionaries comment on the association of this word with “what is praised, recommended, advised” (see here), I imagine that in a more fluid translation it would really be something like “hair of commendable length”, which the translators chose to indicate through “moderately”. After all, that moderate is associated with recommended/advised and, therefore, commendable makes sense. In Philostrathus' time, short male hair was already quite common, but, considering that here he is invoking Greek mythological heroes from earlier periods and whose popular images were particularly influenced by Homer (who describes them with long hair), I’m also not surprised by the idea of ​​Patroclus' hair length being something to be mentioned.

And here is the word that got me started all this research. Yes, it started because of a single word. Basically, I was reading Heroica and I noticed that eyes are often described as “dark” or “black”, which is also the case for Patroclus. I was curious to know how this could be done because the last time I tried to understand a character’s eyes in Heroica (it was Achilles’ eyes. In that case, I was asked and I tried to give some sort of answer) the research was intense because apparently things aren’t always simple. Well, for Patroclus the word was “μέλας” mélas (in case anyone finds “mélas” familiar, it’s because this word is in the etymology of melanin) and… well, apparently, it can actually be both “dark” and “black” (see here). There are, of course, symbolic and metaphorical contexts related to this color, but in this specific case it simply seems that Patroclus has dark eyes and that's it (for example, it has been used to designate water. Not because water is literally black, but because it’s dark). In Greece, as in most countries, dark eyes are more common, so Patrolcus having dark eyes isn’t surprising.

Patroclus is described as having an “olive” complexion, a characteristic that in Greek is indicated by the word “μελίχλωρος”. I found some texts about this. For example, Saito Yukiko says “There is the term of μελίχλωρος (‘yellow or pale as honey’) in ancient Greek, which can be found as a rather dark shade; Kober 1932, 67” (The Flowing Colour of Religious Μέλι and its Transformed Metaphorical Function in Homer, pg 18, note 23). So she seems to interpret that, although the literal meaning refers to yellow or honey, in terms of color it seems to indicate a relatively dark tone, which would indicate that Patroclus isn’t pale and also not literally yellow. It’s more of that brownish honey tone, you know?

Monica Durán Mañas argues that in Theocritus’ text, which also uses “μελίχλωρος” to describe skin, this indicates that the girl has “piel tostada,” that is, she is tanned. In the argument offered, the young girl, because she dedicated herself to the chores of the fields (Theocritus was a poet of pastoral poetry), was frequently exposed to the sun and, therefore, had tanned skin. Because of ancient beauty standards, this would normally be considered a negative characteristic in a woman, but Theocritus subverts this idea by apparently using this descriptive in a positive way (Las mujeres en los Idilios de Teócrito, pg 125-126). Thus, the term would indicate the tone that the skin acquires with tanning. And when we think of honey, it isn’t really a literal yellow, it has a brighter tone, between orange, yellow and brown. In this sense, the description of the girl's skin as similar to honey actually fits with the vision of a young woman who is tanned. Thus, Philostrathus could also be pointing out that Patroclus, probably because he is a warrior, is tanned.

Finally, there is this explanation:

Gow argues, in view of the way μβλίχλωρος is used elsewhere, that it may be a synonym for ώχρός, and that Theocritus is here not flattering the girl but describing her as opposite to what she was. Although she was dark, to her lover she seemed fair, as suited an attractive girl. He cites in support of μελχλωρος ("‘pale”) Plato and the fact that μελιχρούς (a synonym for μελίχλωρος) is the regular word for “fair-skinned” in Egyptian legal documents. But Gow also introduces evidence that μελίχλωρος meant “dark” to some writers. Meleager (A.P. 12.1 65ff) contrasts two boys as λευκανθής and μελίχροος; in the fourth line of the poem, they are λευκός and μελας, corresponding apparently to the two parts (μελας and αρωγός) of his name. Lucretius (4.1160), in speaking of men ascribing to women excellencies they do not possess, gives as the flattering equivalent of nigra, melichrus. It is possible, according to Gow, that for Theocritus, too, μελίχλωρος suggested “dark,” and he was using it as a synonym for αλίόκαυστος. Gow, then, leaves the question open. Professor L. Woodbury of the University of Toronto has pointed out to the author that the two extremes of pale and dark need not present a contradiction. From Plato we know that μελίχλωρος is not the lightest complexion (represented by λευκός). Presumably it lies somewhere between λευκός and μελας, and .as a medium shade was capable of being applied to either extreme. Theocritus used it hypocoristically for “sun-burned”; for him it was a complimentary expression, lightening the girl’s colouring somewhat. So, with the other passages, if we take μελίχλωρος as a medium complexion, it can be used as a hypocorism for someone who is either too pale or too dark. For these writers (with the possible exception of pseudo-Aristotle) μελίχλωρος was an attractive expression particularly suited to the complexion, whereas χλωρός alone indicated a sickly pallor (see p. 64 f.). Although for the early poets, μέλι χλωρόν ought to have meant “liquid honey,” no trace of this meaning remains in the adjective. Perhaps the fact which we remarked earlier, that μελί χλωρόν disappeared from poetic vocabulary explains why the transition to the adjective could be made with a loss of the original force. One would suppose that the epic tag applied mistakenly to the hue of honey led to the coining of μελίχλωρος.

Colour terms in Greek poetry by Eleanor Irwin, pg 58-60.

Irwin concluded that this description probably refers to something between light and dark, that is, to the intermediate tone. This could very well be a tan, as is the case with Durán, and it could very well refer to the hue of honey in a tone not literally yellow but rather darker, as Saito says. The description “olive” also fits. Patroclus being described in this way is relatively predictable because, as noted by the visual representations of Philostratus' time, the male ideal was a tanned skin, opposed to the aesthetic idealization of the pale woman.

Dares the Prygian

Dares the Prygian is a Latin text. Often compared to the Dictys Cretensis, it has resulted in debates in academic circles as to whether the work is Greek or Roman in origin. This is because both Dares the Prygian and Dictys Cretensis claim to be Latin translations of a Greek text. In one case, the translator is identified as Cornelius Nepos, and in the other case, the translator is identified as Lucius Septimus. The problem is that both texts purport to be a “true account of the Trojan War,” so claiming that the text is in Latin because it is a translation from Greek could very well be just a way of increasing credibility. After all, if this is the true account of the Trojan War, it probably had to have been written in Greek first. For a time, nothing was found about the supposed Greek original, leading both texts to be interpreted as part of the Latin literary tradition, without a Greek original. However, papyri have been discovered that contain fragments of a Greek text that match the Latin version of Dictys Cretensis. Not only that, but these papyri predate the publication of the Latin text. In other words, Dictys Cretensis did indeed have a Greek original. This makes the possibility that Dares the Prygian had a Greek original seem not so far-fetched, but apparently no credible evidence of this has yet been found. Therefore, while Dictys Cretensis is now considered to have been part of Greek literature and later entered Latin literature, Dares the Prygian is still primarily seen as Latin literature. [Note: text supported by explanations I have read from various theses, books and translations that discussed Dares].

Well, Dares is the narrator of the story, and so the descriptions of the characters are from his point of view. Regarding Patroclus, he says the following:

Patroclus was handsome and powerfully built. His yes were gray. He was modest, dependable, wise, a man richly endowed. (translation by R.M. Frazer)

In a Latin version, this is the description:

Patroclum pulchro corpore, oculis vividis et magnis, verecundum, rectum, prudentem, dapsilem.

Note: from “verecundum” onwards I’ll ignore it, as these are personality traits and not physical appearance aspects.

“Corpore” refers to the body, with “pulchro” being the word that characterizes it. According to A Latin Dictionary, pulchro can mean beautiful, beauteous, fair, handsome. In a literal interlinear translation of The Aeneid (Books I-VI) by Frederick Holland, I found the word “pulchro” as “fair” and the description “in pulchro corpore” as “in a handsome frame”. Virgil also wrote “virtus veniens gratior in pulchro corpore”, which Levi Hart and V.R. Osborn translate as “virtue coming more grateful in a beautiful body”. Another example of “pulchro” is seen in Latin literature with the use of “pulchro pectore” when referring to a beautiful chest (Virgil does this in The Aeneid, Avianus does this in Fables. Virgil describes a woman, Avianus describes a leopard). Anyway, what I'm trying to say here is that apparently the literal form of the literal is that Patroclus is described as having a "beautiful body", a rather simple description compared to "Patroclus was handsome and powerfully built". The handsome is clearly coming from "pulchro" and the context here is clearly Patroclus' "corpore" (Frazer doesn't have to literally state that he's describing the body for you to notice this. By saying "Patroclus was", it's already noticeable).

The part “oculis vividis et magnis” designates Patroclus’ eyes, as indicated by “oculis”. “Vivids” has the meaning of alive, animated, lively, vigorous, while “et” is “and” and “magnus” has the meaning of “great”, “big”, “large”. In general, magnus denotes great size, value or power. In other words, quite literally, Patroclus’ eyes are “vivid and large”. Since Frazer explicitly says that they’re grey, I tried to find out if “vivids” was somehow used poetically to refer to grey or something like that, but I found nothing. Considering that Frazer apparently left “magnus” out of the translation, it’s possible that “grey” itself was a free addition by him. After all, Frazer himself makes it clear at the beginning of the book that he intends to make a freer translation. It isn’t as if he hides this from the reader. He wanted to maintain the spirit and be faithful in the most relevant details (for example, the themes and narratives), but he tried to “restructure” the writing present in the original Latin because he considered it too simplistic:

Dictys’ Latin prose is simple and fairly good. Dares’, on the other hand, is very bad; it is, as Gilbert Highet says, “of extreme simplicity, verging on stupidity.” My English translations are simple, too, but not so simple, I hope, as to verge on stupidity. I have tried to translate accurately, but not word for word, or even sentence for sentence. Sentences in my translation do not always correspond exactly, in structure or extent, with those of the Latin text. Sometimes I have used a proper name instead of a pronoun, or even instead of an alternate proper name, such as “Neoptolemus” for “Pyrrhus.” Thus I have striven for clarity and readability as well as for accuracy. (pg 15)

BUT he also made it clear that he used Ferdinand Meister's 1873 Latin edition as a reference for his translation, so I figured it was probably Meister's idea and Frazer replicated it, either accidentally or because he thought it was a more interesting idea (since he was doing a more live translation anyway). Here's Meister's excerpt:

Patroclum pulchro corpore oculis caesiis viribus magnis verecudum certum prudentem depsilem.

Here, the part referring to eye color is “oculis caesiis”. Caesiis, according to A Latin Dictionary:

caesĭus , a, um, adj. cf. caeruleus, I.bluish gray; very rare, and only of the eyes, cat-eyed: virgo caesia, Ter Heaut. 5, 5, 18; v. Don. in h. l. and Gell. 2, 26, 19: “isto modo dicere licebit caesios oculos Minervae, caeruleos esse Neptuni,” Cic. N. D. 1, 30, 83 (cf. in Gr. γλαυκῶπις ᾿Αθήνη): caesia, Παλλάδιον, has she gray eyes? she is the impersonation of Pallas, * Lucr. 4, 1161: “caesius, Ter Hec. 3, 4, 26 (glaucis oculis, quasi felis oculos habens et glaucos, Don.): hunc, judices, dico, rubrum, brevem, incurvum, canum, subcrispum, caesium,” Auct. Her. 4, 49, 63: “leo,” Cat. 45, 7: “sub septentrionibus nutriuntur gentes immanibus corporibus oculis caesiis,” Vitr. 6, 1.—Sup. caesissimus, acc. to Varr. L. L. 8, § 76 Müll.—Comp. not in use.

Considering that one of the examples the dictionary uses is “oculis ceasiis,” it does indeed seem to be the same word. In this case, Frazer’s “gray” would come from the edition he is using as a basis, Meister. In other words, it wasn’t a more free choice on Frazer's part.

A more literal translation of the version I used at the beginning (Patroclum pulchro corpore, oculis vividis et magnis, verecundum, rectum, prudentem, dapsilem) would be:

Beautiful of body, with big bright eyes, modest, upright and generous (translation by Maud Mclerney) Patroclus was a handsome man with big, lively eyes. He was modest, respectable, wise, and generous (translation by Jonathan Cornil)

And perhaps there is the question of why the Latin texts shown here are different. Well, the thing is that in basically every book, article and website I read, it’s clearly stated that Dares has MANY manuscripts precisely because it was very popular in Medieval time. I have my serious doubts that all the manuscripts were identical, so it’s a possibility that the manuscripts used as the basis for these Latin versions shown here are different.

A detail that intrigued me is that Cornil also uses Meisen's version as a reference, including it in his text as the original Latin, and explains that he didn’t use the online version at Latin Library. And so I was intrigued by this too. Where is the full text of this site from? This version that is apparently the same as Mclerney's? Well, I looked for other translations of Dares and found a bilingual Latin-French edition by Nicolas Louis Archaintre and Antoine Calloit from 1813. In it, the Latin description for Patroclus is “Patroclum pulchro corpore, oculis vividis et magnis, verecundum, rectum, prudentem, dapsilem”... familiar, right? The French translation, if anyone is interested, is “Patrocle était un bel homme; il avait de grands yeux verts, de la modestie, de la droiture, de la prudence et la génereux” (pg 192-193). Interestingly, although the rest of the translation is quite similar to the others, the description of the eyes is “grands yeux verts”. That is: large (grands) green (verts) eyes (yeux). Yes, green. There is no word that literally means green, so I can only assume that the translators interpreted “vividis” (vivid) as some kind of vivid color (rather than being vivid in the sense of the character’s emotion, for example) and thought green fit that idea. But that’s just my guess. I also found a French edition from 1592 in which the part about Patroclus’ eyes is also described as “les yeux verds”, so this translation choice on Anchaintre and Calloit’s part isn’t new in the French editions. And then I made another discovery! There is an 1835 edition by Andres Dederich whose Latin description for Patroclus is “Patroclum pulcro corpore, oculis vividis et magnis, verecundum, rectum, prudentem, dapsilem”. “Pulchro” here is “pulcro”, but otherwise unchanged in comparison with Latin Library online. An edition of the Delphin Series in 1680 gave the Latin text as “Patroclum corpore, oculis viridibus & magnis, verecundum, rectum, prudentem, depfilem”, notably without the presence of the “caesiis” although the description of the eyes is somewhat different (viridibus instead of vivids). [Here is the edition by 1592, 1680, 1813, 1835]

So, at least here I know that in 1680 there was an edition without “caesiis” and that in 1813 there was already an edition similar to the one I showed initially, although I don’t know which manuscript was used in them. I found another file of the Meisen version, and then I was able to notice something I hadn’t noticed before. At the bottom of the page that shows the description (pg 16), there are words from the text + letters. One of the combinations is “caesiis om. LG”. Later, I discovered on the previous page of the translation there is a “Singlorum tabula”, that is, a list of acronyms. The acronym L is identified as “codex Leidensis s. X” and the acronym G is identified as “codex Sangallensis s. X”. So, apparently somehow the descriptive “caesiis” supposedly comes from these manuscripts (I say supposedly because I may have misunderstood since the edition is in Latin and it’s not like I found these manuscripts to try to check). Anyway, there is no way for me to check these manuscripts, but I’ll trust Meisen and I’ll also trust that the other people who didn’t have “caesiis” in their texts didn’t deliberately leave it out, but simply used a manuscript that didn’t have it. Therefore, I’ll assume that the existence of “caesiis” depends on the manuscript.

What we conclude here is: Patroclus is handsome and his eyes are a flexible subject. But if we consider the manuscripts that possibly have “caesiis”, then the possible colors are bluish-gray or simply gray. If we consider the descriptions without color, then they’re usually big (magnus/magnis) and vivid (vivids/vividis) or strong (viribus/viridibus).

Description of Greece, Pausanias

At one point, Pausanias describes a painting. It’s said that, with the exception of Agamemnon, all the characters are beardless. This includes Patroclus:

After the daughters of Pandareos is Antilochus, with one foot upon a rock and his face and head resting upon both hands, while after Antilochus is Agamemnon, leaning on a scepter beneath his left armpit, and holding up a staff in his hands. Protesilaus is seated with his gaze fixed on Achilles. Such is the posture of Protesilaus, and beyond Achilles is Patroclus standing. With the exception of Agamemnon these figures have no beard.

Description of Greece, 10.30.3. Translation by W.H.S. Jones.

Beards, as far as Ancient Greece is concerned, seem to have been a symbol of male maturity. For example, in the Odyssey, the beard seems to be a constant indicator of this (excerpts from Richmond Lattimore's translation below):

“[...] Hermes, of the golden staff, met me on my way, in the likeness of a young man with beard new grown, which is the most graceful time of young manhood [...]” 

10.277-279. 

“[...] Surely they would have carried it out if they had come to maturity, but the son of Zeus whom Leto with ordered hair had borne him, Apollo, killed them both, before ever the down gathered below their temples, or on their chins the beards had blossomed. [...]”

11.317-320.

Eurynome the housekeeper said to her in answer: ‘Now all this you have said, my child, was fair and orderly. Go then, and speak a word to your son, hide nothing. Only first you should wash your body and anoint your face. Do not go down with a face so ravaged all over by tears, as it now is, since nothing is gained by indiscriminate sorrowing always. For now your son is come of age, and you know you always prayed the immortals, beyond all else, to see him bearded.’

13.169-177.

If we consider beards as an indication of age, then it is possible that the artist mentioned by Pausanias deliberately chose who to give a beard or not. Agamemnon has a beard, but Antilochus, Protesilaus, Achilles and Patroclus don’t. And when thinking about Antilochus, it’s easy to remember that in the sources (including The Iliad) he is repeatedly described as one of the youngest in the army. In turn, part of Achilles' tragedy is that he dies young. In their case, certainly the absence of a beard can be justified as an indication of youth. So I don’t rule out the possibility that the artist imagined a young Patroclus.

Posthomerica, Ioannis Tzetzes

In the Posthomerica of the Byzantine Ioannis Tzetzes (don’t confuse with Quintus of Smyrna), the description of Patroclus is “Patroclus was middle-aged, potbellied and well-bearded. He had blond hair, red skin and lovely face” (translation: Ana Untila). I know there is the Greek text somewhere because I saw it while analyzing the description of Achilles in another post (more specifically, his eyes). I, however, can’t find it anymore, so I won’t even try to see what it is in Greek and will simply consider the English translation.

Here, Patroclus is considerably older than Achilles, already middle-aged. This would make him at least in the generation of Agamemnon. This is certainly an unusual age for Patroclus, who doesn’t tend to be so old as to equal characters of the Atreide generation. He has a beard, which doesn’t tend to be an element in the surviving literary sources, but is recorded in visual sources before Tzetzes. Tzetzes describes him as blond, which is unusual. I can think of no other source, either visual or literary, where Patroclus is blond rather than brunette or at least of undefined hair color. His body is potbellied, also not found in any other source, but it distances his physique from that of Achilles (including Tzetzes's Achilles, who is described differently). Patroclus's skin is red, though I’am not sure if Tzetzes intended him to be the sort of blond with pink undertones or if this is a way of indicating time in the sun. “Lovely face” is nothing more than an indication that he is handsome, and heroes being described as handsome isn’t uncommon.

And finally, we have some surviving visual representations. I won't post them here but just link them to avoid any limitations on the number of images on Tumblr.

See here. On a black-figure Kylix, two men in military clothing are depicted, one healing the other's arm. These are Achilles (the healer) and Patroclus (the one being healed). Here, Patroclus is a man with short curly hair, a prominent nose, long eyelashes, a beard and mustache. The detail of the nose is more discreet, but compare it to Achilles's straight nose and it’s more notable. Blessed were the hands of whoever decided to give Patroclus this nose! In any case, Patroclus being depicted with a beard while Achilles is beardless may have been an artistic device to indicate who is the older of the two.

See here. On this black-figure pottery, there is a depiction of Agamemnon's Embassy sent to convince Achilles to return to war (Book 9 of The Iliad). Big Ajax is very clearly absent, but the other elements are there. We have a rather bald old man who is supposed to be Nestor, a chill man who is supposed to be Odysseus, a sullen young man who is supposed to be Achilles, and behind this sullen man there is another young man who is supposed to be Patroclus. Patroclus looks quite similar to Achilles: a beardless young man with short hair and an athletic build. He also does a cunty pose. This isn’t relevant to the subject of this “source collection”, I just wanted to point it out. In any case, the similarity between Achilles and Patroclus can probably represent that they’re from the same generation, that is, they’re very similar in age. And since Achilles is young, so is Patroclus.

See here. On an Attic black-figure amphora attributed to The Priam Painter and thought to possibly date to around 520BC-510BC, we have Achilles doing his typical Achilles thing of dragging Hector's body, which is tied to a chariot. And here you might think, "But Birdie, Patroclus is obviously already dead at this point. I even remember Hector being dragged around his tomb. You wanted to show Patroclus' tomb as a joke? I don't see a tomb." But that's not what this is about...it's just that on this pottery there's a little guy flying up there. See him? He's a tiny little guy in armor. This little guy, my friend, is the soul of Patroclus. Not exactly useful for knowing what he looks like, since he's wearing a helmet. I mean, those are of course killer thighs, but that's because of the style of this kind of art. That is, it's not exactly useful for the purposes of analyzing the character's appearance, but I wanted to include mini Patroclus.

See here. And these are fragments, but I swear there's a reason they're here. Thought to probably date to around 580BC-575BC, these are recovered parts of what was supposed to be an Attic black-figure kantharos. One of the surviving pieces shows a bearded man with an inscription next to it (and a silly face). According to the British Museum, this inscription is supposed to be the name Patroclus. Since I certainly can't read the writing, I'll trust the Museum's description.

See here. An Attic black-figure calyx potentially dated to 530BC found in Phthia, painted in the manner of Exekias. This represents the conflict for the body of Patroclus, which is the corpse on the ground. He is a slender young man, beardless and with long (apparently straight) hair.

See here. An Etruscan cinerary chest probably dated to 300BC-100BC depicts what appears to be the death of the Trojan prince Troilus, the young (apparently teenage) man riding the horse. The young man pulling him off the horse is Achilles, another man next to him is identified as Patroclus and the winged woman is said by the British Museum to be a Fury. There is a Phrygian hat on the ground, probably belonging to Troilus and knocked off by the sudden movement of being pulled by Achilles. Other than that Patroclus certainly has a big ass in that, there isn’t much else to comment on Patroclus' appearance. Perhaps the lack of a beard, I think. The shield covers his mouth, but you can see from the side of his face that Patroclus has no beard.

See here. Dating probably to the 1st century AD, a Roman fresco found in the House of the Tragic Poet in Pompeii depicts Briseis being led away by the heralds of Agamemnon. There are two men in the center (Briseis is on the side), namely Achilles and Patroclus. Patroclus is a young, beardless, tanned man with short brown hair and apparently also dark eyes and he holds Briseis' arm, probably handing her over to the heralds as ordered by Achilles (Book 1 of The Iliad).

See here. Another Roman fresco found in Pompeii, this time in the House of the Golden Cupids, shows Briseis, Achilles and Patroclus. The torso and face of Achilles are missing, only his legs. Briseis is entirely visible and Patroclus is almost entirely visible. You can't see his eyes, but he is a young, tanned, beardless man with short brown hair. It is, in fact, quite similar to the earlier fresco.

See here. Supposedly dated to around 30 BC-AD 80, a Roman marble panel depicts in relief what are apparently Agamemnon's heralds coming to take Briseis (Book 1 of The Iliad). The young man sitting looking away is Achilles, the only woman in the scene is Briseis, the older man + the partially cut man are the heralds, and the other young man (the one between Achilles and Briseis) is Patroclus. I don't know exactly how these identifications were made, but I imagine that the fact that young man 2 has his hand on the woman's shoulder helped with the identification of him as Patroclus, since in The Iliad he is the one who brings her to be give to the heralds. Notably, Patroclus again resembles Achilles: an athletic young man with short hair and no beard.

See here. Theorized to date from 100-200 AD, this Roman fresco depicts Agamemnon's heralds carrying Briseis. From left to right, the theorized identifications are: Patroclus (because he is the other young man in the company), Achilles (because of his typical head-in-hand pose and long blond hair), Phoenix (because he is the elderly character who would be in Achilles's area at this point), Briseis (the only woman in the scene) and the heralds (who are with Briseis). If it’s Patroclus (and let's face it, it’s quite likely), then here he is a young man, beardless, pale, with short, wavy brown hair and dark eyes. His face is very similar to Achilles', although I don't know if this is intentional or simply a consequence of the style. Interestingly, he also appears to be one of the shortest in the scene (Achilles doesn't count, as he is lying down).

See here. Probably dating from the 1st-3rd century AD, this Roman plaste glass gem shows three figures, with two men apparently placing a third on the chariot. It’s theorized that it may be Menelaus and Meriones placing Patroclus' body on the chariot to take it back to the Achaean camp. Well... because of the type of material, it isn’t very helpful in indicating the physical characteristics of the characters, but I’ll include it here anyway.

See here. Another similar case is one that is theorized to be Menelaus carrying the body of Patroclus. Again, not very useful for looking at appearances, but hey, I'll include it.

See here. I swear this is the last of its kind I'll shown (there are more of its kind theorized to depict Patroclus, but overall it's not possible to tell much about the physical appearance), two soldiers with one of them healing the other's leg. It's theorized to perhaps depict Patroclus and Achilles. I can't say for sure why this theory exists, but I'm going to assume it's because of the kylix with Achilles healing Patroclus. The only noticeable thing about it is the athletic body. 

See here. Dating back to the 2nd century AD, a Roman sarcophagus depicts Achilles mourning the dead Patroclus. Patroclus can be identified as the man lying on the bed (in this case, the corpse of Patroclus) and surrounded by people who appear to be mourning, with the figure sitting next to the bed appearing to be in the main one (Achilles, who also has the shortest hair of all the figures). He appears much older than Achilles, with short curly hair, a full curly beard and a straight nose.