Many of the most influential and well-known poems of ancient Greek literature start with an appeal to a Muse.1 Being a goddess, she gives songs a divine character. Yet, the exact function of the Muses is not easy to define because of their versatility and the multitude of their occurrences. In many instances, the Muses seem to have a role in the narration of a story. Thus, the Homeric narrator in both epics appeals to his Muse before he begins the narrative, requesting her to tell the story. Since the Muses are both goddesses and are often mentioned in relation to narrating a story, we may expect a narratological analysis of the Muses to contribute to the interpretation of this divine aspect of poetry.
In this paper, I discuss some aspects of the narrative function of the Muses in archaic lyric poems. Several poets identified the invocation and use of the Muses with Homeric poetry. This is, for example, clear from Hipponax fr. 128, which as a parody is a good place to look for generic markers of what is parodied, Ibycus S151 PMGF and Simonides’ Plataea Elegy. The Muses are probably needed there as eyewitnesses, since the narrator tells of events he did not witness himself,2 besides helping to preserve the kleos of men and lending authority to the professional singer. I will therefore start by looking at Homeric poetry for the way the Muses are used there as a narrative device and will subsequently compare this use with that in several lyric poems.
The narrative function of the Muses in Homer can best be demonstrated by comparing the narratives of the Homeric primary narrator, and his alter egos Demodocus and Phemius, with those of the other narrators, who are not professional singers and therefore do not have the privilege of the Muses. As “ordinary” narrators, they tell the story from a human perspective. If they have not witnessed the events they narrate, they say that they depend on hearsay and traditional stories for information.3
Narratological studies of Homer’s epics have shown that the primary narrator, too, narrates from a human perspective in practice.4 This human perspective is clear from his evaluation of the narrative and his sympathetic pity for the heroes. It comes explicitly to the fore when he, like many other narrators, mentions that he relies on other speakers’ knowledge (Iliad 2.783, Iliad 17.674, and Odyssey 6.42).5 Yet, he is also aided by the Muses, who see everything as eyewitnesses, as he states when he invokes them before the catalogue in Iliad 2.484–486. With their help, his knowledge is “doubly motivated,”6 since it is not merely dependent on hearsay and traditional stories. In this way, the Muses grant authority to his narrative. So, since the primary narrator has the form of a professional singer aided by the Muses, his knowledge differs from that of secondary narrators in that it is authenticated by the Muses’ first-hand knowledge. This increases his narrative authority.
There are multiple places where the Homeric narrator refers to the authority granted by the Muses. In the best-known references to the Muses in Homer, the two epics’ proems, the narrator demands that the Muses sing about a particular theme. The narrative that follows, i.e. the whole narrative of the poem itself, may therefore be regarded as a narrative related by the narrator himself, but also as the Muses’ fulfilment of the narrator’s demand.7 We see a similar form of cooperation in the other references to the Muses in the primary narrator’s narrative, when the narrator poses questions to them, for example about who fought the best (e.g. Iliad 2.761–762, Iliad 11.218–220, Iliad 14.508–510). Such questions underscore the achievement of a particular warrior.8 As in the proem, the answers given to these questions may be regarded as being issued from both the Muses and the narrator at the same time. This form reflects the double motivation of the narrator’s knowledge: although the primary narrator is in charge of the narrative himself, by appealing and posing questions to the Muses he also closely involves them in it.
Another important observation may be made about the Homeric Muses. The questions posed to the Muses in the Iliad involve specific information, such as which warrior killed first (Iliad 14.508–510). Therefore, the Muses appear to be connected to the ability of the narrator qua professional singer to memorize and sing about a large number of names and events. This means that the Muses play a pivotal role in the promulgation of the warriors’ kleos. In this light it is noteworthy that in two invocations the narrator uses the words
To conclude, in Homer, three observations are especially important with respect to the Muses, which may serve as input for our investigation of the Muses: they help professional singers, granting authority to their narrative (double motivation of knowledge); neither they nor the narrator are solely in charge of the narrative; and they have an important role in increasing the kleos of the poem’s subjects. This is the divine authority that the narrator enjoys, which is expressed by his collaboration with the Muses. Now, I would like to ask the question of how this works in narratives in some archaic lyric genres.
Many of the immense number of studies on the Muses, for example Morrison’s (2007) about the Hellenistic narrator, see the Muses in archaic lyric as occupying an important intermediate position between the Homeric and Hellenistic Muses. While the Homeric narrator was assisted by the Muses throughout his epics, Hellenistic narrators based their poems much less on the Muses. Likewise, lyric narrators—in Pindar especially—are qua narrators to a large extent independent from the Muses.
I will investigate what roles archaic lyric poets assign to the Muses. What narrative functions of the Muses can we find? In what form are the Muses included in the poems? And is there a strong relation to the narrators’ status as (professional) singers? I will first discuss the characteristics of the—as they may be called—“Homeric” (or better, “epic”) Muses, and investigate how several lyric poets of different genres adopted and developed these characteristics. Then, I will zoom in on three narratives in order to examine the narrative effects of the Muses.
First, I need to make some remarks about narratives in lyric poetry. There are many genres included in our concept of ‘lyric poetry’, and in most of them narratives are embedded in a lyric frame. It is difficult to draw a sharp line between narrative and non-narrative. Therefore, in my opinion, making a strict distinction is not the ideal methodology. When, for example, a Muse invocation occurs before the start of a lyric narrative, we would be missing an important aspect of the narrative if we left this out of consideration. I will, thus, focus on the narrative parts, but where necessary also involve their lyric frame. In addition, as I investigate the narrative function of the Muses, I focus in this paper on the content, which is of course only one aspect of the composition, and not, for example on dancing and singing.10
1 Muses in Lyric Poetry
I start with the poems of Stesichorus, who was heavily indebted to epic poetry.11 His “debt” becomes clear from his use of the Muses too, since this shows similarities with the epic narrator’s use of the Muses. For example, in the Sack of Troy (fr. 100), the narrator addresses his Muse (
Stesichorus fr. 172Μοῖσα σὺ μἐν πολέμος ἀπωσαμένα πεδ᾽ ἐμοῦ κλείοισα θεῶν τε γάμους ἀνδρῶν τε δαῖτας καὶ θαλίας μαάκρων …
Muse, do you, rejecting wars with me, celebrating the weddings of gods, the feasts of men, and the banquets of the blessed …13
The phrase
In addition, in the two Palinodes (fr. 90), the narrator asks the Muse’s help in rectifying the false version of the story of Helen:
In Bacchylides, we find a characteristic of the epic Muse in Ode 15.47, where the narrator, beginning a narrative on the Trojan War, poses a question to the Muse to introduce Menelaus’ speech:
Bacchylides 15.47–49Μοῦσα ,τίς πρῶτος λόγων ἆρχεν δικαίων ;Πλεισθενίδας Μενέλαος γάρυϊ θελξιεπεῖ φθέγξατ᾽ ,εὐπέπλοισι κοινώσας Χάρισσιν· …
Muse, who first began the words on the subject of justice? Pleisthenes’ son Menelaus spoke with spell-binding words, making partners with the fair-robed Graces: …17
This
The Homeric idea that professional singers/poets who are aided by the Muses have superior knowledge occurs in elegy too. It is, for example, the subject of lines 769–772 of the Theognidea:
Theognidea 769–772χρὴ Μουσῶν θεράποντα καὶ ἄγγελον ,εἴ τι περισσὸν εἰδείη ,σοφίης μὴ φθονερὸν τελέθειν ,ἀλλὰ τὰ μὲν μῶσθαι ,τὰ δὲ δεικνύναι ,ἄλλα δὲ ποιεῖν · τί σφιν χρήσηται μοῦνος ἐπιστάμενος ;
The servant and messenger of the Muses, if he has surfeit of knowledge, should not begrudge his wisdom; he should seek, he should show, he should create; what good is it to him, if he is the only one who knows?19
The poet is presented as the Muses’ ‘servant and messenger’, which would enable him to have a ‘surfeit of knowledge’. While the narrator in Homer is a largely covert narrator, here we see an active narrator/poet. Thus, the Theognidean narrator lays emphasis on the active role that a poet should have: a poet should
In many other poems, the narrator’s knowledge is not authenticated by the Muses. For instance, they are almost completely absent from Archilochus’ and Hipponax’s poems, most likely due to the limited portion of narrative about events of the past in their poems. Yet the narrator can make invocations as a parody on epic in Archilochus 117 and Hipponax 128. This may suggest that the Muses had become closely associated with the epic genre and with epic subject matter for these poets. Further indicators of this are the narrator in Ibycus’ fr. S151, who invites the Muses to embark upon epic themes,24 and the Muse’s prominent appearance in Pindar’s Pythian 4 (1, 67, 279), with its epic flavour. Some of Alcman’s poems may be an exception (frs. 11, 14a, 27). In these fragments the narrator invokes the Muses, but only a few lines of these poems have survived, so we cannot be certain that the narrator treated epic themes in them.25 Although I focus here on the narratives, it is further worth noting that the narrator in fr. 27 of Alcman asks the Muse not only to start the lovely verses, but also to make the choral dance graceful (
Sappho mentions the Muses on several occasions in passages in which she is especially concerned with being remembered. The Muses—i.e. her poems—ensure her fame.26 Thus, for example, Aelius Aristides writes that Sappho had boasted that she, thanks to the Muses, would not be forgotten after her death (fr. 193), and in fr. 55, Sappho says that the woman she addresses will not be remembered after death because she has no share in the roses from Pieria, the traditional habitat of the Muses (
A classic example of the function of the Muses in helping poets to spread someone else’s kleos is found in Theognis (237–254), where the narrator addresses Cyrnus:27
Theognidea 249–252…σε πέμψει ἀγλαὰ Μουσάων δῶρα ἰοστεφάνων · πᾶσι δ᾽ ὅσοισι μέμηλε καὶ ἐσσομένοισιν ἀοιδὴ ἔσσῃ ὁμῶς ,ὄφρ᾽ ἂν γῆ τε καὶ ἠέλιος ·
… it is the splendid gifts of the violet-wreathed Muses that will escort you. For all who care about their gifts, even for future generations, you will alike the subject of song, as long as earth and sun exist.28
The narrator says that Cyrnus will have an immortal name thanks to Theognis’ song, which suggests that, because of their relationship with the Muses, poets are capable of perpetuating their subjects’ fame in a song to be sung at symposia and festivals.
Another instance of kleos, in the form of the Muse Clio, occurs in Bacchylides’ Ode 3. Clio is invoked in an epic manner but in connection with an event of the recent past:
Bacchylides 3.1–4ἀριστο [κ ]άρπου Σικελίας κρέουσαν Δ [ά ]ματρα ἰοστέφανόν τε Κούραν ὕμνει ,γλυκύδωρε Κλειοῖ ,θοάς τ᾽ Ὀ -λυμ ]πιοδρόμους Ἱέρωνος ἵππ [ο ]υς .
Of Demeter, ruler of corn-rich Sicily, and of the violet-garlanded Maid sing, Clio, giver of sweetness, and of Hieron’s swift horses, Olympic runners.29
The narrator asks the Muse to sing about Demeter and Persephone (a logical choice, seeing that the ode praises the Sicilian Hieron), and Hieron’s horses. It may be significant that the narrator calls the Muse
So far, we have seen how the lyric Muses are said to cooperate with the lyric poets, are used as an authentication device, and are associated with superior knowledge and kleos. As a final topic, I would like to discuss the form in which the close collaboration between narrator and Muse can be expressed. In Homer, we saw that the appeal to the Muse in the proem and the questions posed to them were followed by an answer—the narrative itself—which may be regarded as being issued from both the Muses and the narrator at the same time. We find a similar use of the Muse in Nemean 5, where the Muses are said to sing at the wedding of Peleus and Thetis. While their role is introduced at the beginning with ‘[The Muses] first sang of august Thetis and Peleus …’ (
2 Simonides, Plataea Elegy
In order to illustrate the narrative effects of the Muses, let us turn to some longer narratives, starting with Simonides’ Plataea Elegy (frs. 10–18). This poem exemplifies how Muses are referred to in order to ensure the song’s and its subject’s kleos. This poem starts with a hymn-like proem,34 in which Achilles is addressed.35 Despite its fragmentary state, it is probably safe to say that Simonides in this poem evokes the Trojan War as recounted by Homer to parallel the battle of Plataea, with Achilles standing for Pausanias (who may have himself commissioned the poem)36 and other Greek warriors. West states that since a proem was always addressed to a divinity, as far as we know, Simonides accords Achilles the status of a god here and refers to his hero cult.37 The narrator may have also envisioned such a cult status for the warriors who died in the battle of Plataea, but this is disputed.38 Even if it is not correct to speak of heroization of the warriors in this passage, it would not contradict the idea that the narrator assures the fallen Greek warriors’ undying fame by means of this poem (23–24), as Homer did for Achilles (17–18).39
The Muses are mentioned twice, once within and once immediately after the hymn-like proem:
Simonides fr. 11 W2, 13–25τοὶ δὲ πόλι ]ν πέρσαντες ἀοίδιμον [οἴκαδ᾽ ἵ ]κοντο φέρτατο ἡρ ]ωων̣ ἁγέμαχοι Δαναοί [,15 οἷσιν ἐπ᾽ ἀθά ]ν̣ατον κέχυται κλέος ἀν [δρὸς ]ἕκητι ὃς παρ᾽ ἰοπ ]λοκάμων δέξατο Πιερίδ [ων πᾶσαν ἀλη ]θείην ,καὶ ἐπώνυμον ὁπ̣ [λοτέρ ]οισιν ποίησ᾽ ἡμ ]ι̣θέων ὠκύμορον γενεή [ν .ἀλλὰ σὺ μὲ ]ν νῦν χαῖρε ,θεᾶς ἐρικύ [δεος υἱέ ]20 κούρης εἰν ]αλίου Νηρέος · αὐτὰρ ἐγὼ̣ [κικλήισκω ]σ᾽ ἐπίκουρον ἐμοί ,π̣ [ολυώνυμ ]ε Μοῦσα ,εἴ πέρ γ᾽ ἀνθρώπων̣ εὐχομένω [ν μέλεαι · ἔντυνο ]ν̣ καὶ τόνδ [ε μελ ]ί̣φρονα κ [όσμον ἀο ]ιδῆς ἡμετ ]έ̣ρης ,ἵνα τις̣ [μνή ]σ̣ε̣τ̣α̣ι ὕ̣ [στερον αὖ ἀνδρῶ ]ν , …
[And so] the valiant Danaans, [best of warr]iors,sacked the much-sung city, and came [home;]15 [and they] are bathed in fame that cannot die, by grace[of one who from the dark-]tressed Muses hadthe tru[th entire,] and made the heroes’ short-lived racea theme familiar to younger men.[But] now farewell, [thou son] of goddess glorious,20 [daughter] of Nereus of the sea, while I[now summon] thee, i[llustriou]s Muse, to support,[if thou hast any thought] for men who pray:[fit ou]t, as is thy wont, this [grat]eful song-a[rray][of mi]ne, so that rem[embrance is preserved]of those …40
If the reconstruction is correct, the narrator says that Homer had the entire truth ([
From line 25 onwards, the narrator turns to the battle of Plataea. While the Homeric narrator’s hearsay knowledge of the distant past was authenticated by the Muse, the Simonidean narrator does not need such an authentication: the battle occurred only recently, and the audience may well have witnessed (and could confirm) the events he narrates. This difference between Simonides’ and Homer’s temporal point of view is also reflected in the Simonidean narrator’s knowledge in the Plataea Elegy. In Simonides’ poem, Homer is aided by the Muses and seems to speak freely about the gods (if West’s reconstruction is correct, Homer’s subjects are Apollo, Hera, and Athena, because their wrath had caused the war, [9–10]). In the narrative of the battle of Plataea, however, no gods are mentioned by name, and the narrator states only that the warriors trusted ‘omens’ ([
In what way, then, does the Muse help the narrator in the Plataea Elegy? West suggests that he asks her to [
3 Pindar, Olympian 10
In Pindar’s Olympian 10, the narrator exhorts the Muse to compose a song with him, but first asks the Muse and Truth to protect him from the reproach that his ode is late:
Olympian 10.1–6Τὸν Ὀλυμπιονίκαν ἀνάγνωτέ μοι Ἀρχεστράτου παῖδα ,πόθι φρενός ἐμᾶς γέγραπται· γλυκὺ γὰρ αὐτῷ μέλος ὀφείλων ἐπιλέλαθ᾽· ὦ Μοῖσ᾽ ,ἀλλὰ σὺ καὶ θυγάτηρ Ἀλάθεια Διός ,ὀρθᾷ χερί ἐρύκετον ψευδέων ἐνιπὰν ἀλιτόξενον .
Read me the name of the Olympic victor, the son of Archestratus, where it is written in my mind, for I owe him a sweet song and have forgotten, O Muse, but you and Zeus’ daughter, Truth, with a correcting hand ward off from me the charge of harming a guest friend with broken promises.44
In line 12, the narrator uses the first-person plural
The narrator begins and recounts how Heracles founded the Olympian games, and then mentions in catalogue style the six victors of the first Olympian games:
Olympian 10.60–64τίς δὴ ποταίνιον ἔλαχε στέφανον χείρεσσι ποσίν τε καὶ ἅρματι ,ἀγώνιον ἐν δόξᾳ θέμενος εὖχος ,ἔργῳ καθελών ;σταδίον μὲν ἀρίστευσεν …
Who then won the new crown with hands or feet or with chariot, after fixing in his thoughts a triumph in the contest and achieving it in deed? First, the winner of the stadion was …
The addressee is not named, but it seems clear that the Muses are again implied. First, there is the typical question form, directly followed by an answer. The question form is reminiscent of epic. Second, there is the position in the ode, at the transition to another part; in other Pindaric odes, too, a Muse marks the transition from one part to another.46 However, this is not uncontested. What follows is not poetic language, but rather a victory list of ancient victors. Pavlou for example, argues that ‘the catalogue’s lack of elaboration and aesthetic value’ suggest that Pindar has this information not from the Muses, but from a real victory list.47 Yet this catalogue is not that strange in combination with the Muse; such a question also introduces the Catalogue in the Iliad. Furthermore, more important than asking what Pindar’s source would have been is the idea that Pindar used the style of such a victory list. It suits the official character of the beginning of the ode, when he asked the Muse and Truth to ‘read’ him the name of the laudandus, representing an unfulfilled contract between victor and poet. By the repetition of the official character of the ode and the idea of “reading,” we see how firmly the Muse is embedded in this song.
4 Pindar, Isthmian 5
In Isthmian 5, the narrator asks which men defeated some of the warriors at Troy:
Isthmian 5.38–44ἔλα νῦν μοι πεδόθεν· λέγε ,τίνες Κύκνον ,τίνες Ἕκτορα πέφνον ,καὶ στράταρχον Αἰθιόπων ἄφοβον Μέμνονα χαλκοάραν· τίς ἄρ᾽ ἐσλὸν Τήλεφον τρῶσεν ἑῷ δορὶ Καΐκου παρ᾽ ὄχθαις ;τοῖσιν Αἴγιναν προφέρει στόμα πάτραν ,διαπρεπέα νᾶσον· …
Drive me now up from the plain; tell me which men slew Cycnus, which ones slew Hector, and the fearless general of the Ethiopians, Memnon of the bronze armour? Who then wounded noble Telephus with his spear by the banks of Caïcus? One’s mouth proclaims Aegina as their homeland, that illustrious island; …
The verb
The answer to all four questions is Achilles, as most people in Pindar’s audience familiar with the epic cycle will have known.50 The plurals in the first two questions and in line 43 are significant, as Achilles is only one man. They emphasize Achilles’ exceptional battle qualities, since he has single-handedly accomplished deeds that would normally be the work of many. The narrator mentioned earlier in the ode that Achilles has been a theme for poets (
5 Conclusion
I have argued, first, how lyric poets adopted and developed characteristics of the Homeric Muses. Collaboration between the Muses and the narrator occurs throughout the lyric corpus. This collaboration is sometimes expressed in a question-and-answer pair (Bacchylides 15.47–49, Pindar Olympian 10.60–63, 13.20–22, Isthmian 5.38–44), and may even be reflected in a metaleptic form (Pindar Nemean 5.26–27). Compared with Homer, some lyric narrators are more explicit about this collaboration (e.g. Stesichorus fr. 100 7–8, fr. 172). In addition, as in Homer, Muses are used as authentication device (e.g. Stesichorus fr. 90) and also their superior knowledge may come to the fore (e.g. Thgn. 769–772), while the narrator draws more attention to his own active role.
Secondly, I have shown that Muses are often associated with epic (e.g. Ibycus fr. S151, Pindar Pyth. 4), and given the more active role of lyric the poet, it is no surprise that lyric Muses can be associated with the immortalizing power of the poets’ own poetry and with the poets’ self-conscious role as dispensers of kleos, both that of their topics and of themselves; we have seen this in many instances.
Finally, we have seen how the narrator in Simonides’ Plataea Elegy does not use the Muse to authenticate his hearsay knowledge, but by invoking the Muse he self-consciously places himself in the tradition of Homer, drawing attention to his ability to guarantee a warrior’s immortal fame, as Homer did for the warriors of the Trojan War. Pindar’s Olympian 10 gave us an instance of a Muse who was firmly embedded in an ode. This ode started with the Muse, who was picked up later when the narrator turned to a victory list. In Pindar’s Nemean 5, as my last example, the narrator uses the question-and-answer pair from Homer, but presupposes his audience’s knowledge of these stories about Achilles so that, although the questions are posed to, and supposed to be answered by, the Muse, the audience, too, can supply Achilles’ name.
To conclude, this narratological analysis of the Muses has given us insight into some aspects of this important divine characteristic of archaic lyric poetry, and by using observations from Homer as starting point for this investigation, we have not only seen how similar narrative techniques occur both in epic and lyric poetry, but also that the way in which the latter poets adopted these techniques adds to our understanding of archaic lyric narrative itself.
I would like to thank André Lardinois and Lucia Athanassaki for their help and insightful comments. I also wish to thank my PhD supervisor Irene de Jong; this paper and the research behind it would not have been possible without her support.
See e.g. Ford (2019) 57–89.
E.g. Il. 4.374–375, 9.524, Od. 3.187–188, 12.372–390.
See De Jong (2004) 228–229.
The narrator’s foregrounded human perspective in Od. 6.42 arguably serves to emphasize the differences between the pleasantness of Olympus and the harshness of the human world. In Il. 2.783,
For this double motivation, see Lesky (1961) 30–31; Edwards (1987) 19 and 134–135.
E.g. Clay (2011) 14–37.
Also argued by De Jong (2004) 45–53.
In addition to the primary narrator, other professional singers mentioned in the Odyssey also have the privilege of access to the Muses. Thus, the Muses are mentioned before the primary narrator gives the contents of two of Demodocus’ narratives (Od. 8.73–92, Od. 8.499–520). The other professional singer, Phemius, claims that he is not only self-taught, but also that a god has planted in his heart ‘all ways of song’ (Od. 22.347–348). As the primary narrator’s alter egos, these professional singers receive help from the Muses as well. As to Demodocus’ narratives, it may be significant that the Muse is not mentioned before the narrative about Ares and Aphrodite (Od. 8.266–366), but only in relation to two narratives about the Trojan War. A possible explanation is that these two narratives concerned warriors’ kleos (cf. e.g.
For this topic, see Athanassaki (2022b).
See e.g. Kelly (2015).
I base myself here on Davies and Finglass (2014) 415–416 ad 7–8.
Text and trans. Davies and Finglass (2014).
See e.g. Feeney (1991) 15–16.
A large amount of secondary literature on Hesiod’s appeal to the Muses is summarized in Katz and Volk (2000), to which e.g. Clay (1988) 327–331 and E.L. Bowie (1993) 20–23 could be added.
Cf. e.g. the opening words of Sappho fr. 127. Differently, Davison (1968) 223 writes that
Trans. Campbell (1992), sometimes adapted.
So note e.g. Jebb (1905) 365 and Maehler (2004) 161 ad 47. Cf. Il. 11.218–219, 14.508–509, 16.112–113, for which see De Jong (2014) 50–51 and Fearn (2007) 283–287. For the poem’s intertextual relation with Homer (and Solon), see Fearn (2007) 257–337. Yet Fearn, in my view, goes too far in suggesting that these intertextual references are easily picked up by the audience. According to Fearn, Bacchylides’ audience would here have been reminded of Il. 11.218–219, but it is relevant to notice that there are two other Muse-invocations starting with
Trans. Fowler (2013) 81.
Fowler (2013) 81–83, who compares the passage to Plato’s Prt. 320b. Bagordo (2000) 197 interprets
E.g. Archil. 1.1–2 (
As Woodbury (1991) 490 comments on this passage, the poet’s art appears to comprise two basic elements, namely ‘his particular wisdom and his production of verses’, emphasis added. In this article (483–490), he also discusses many interpretations of the passage proposed by other scholars. Other interpretations are also discussed in Bagordo (2000).
For instances where the Homeric narrator refers to himself as a poet, see De Jong (2006) 188–207.
See further Woodbury (1985) 201.
So notes e.g. Morrison (2007b) 80. The Muses are also addressed at the beginning of Alcman fr. 3, but it is unclear again if this address was followed by a narrative, epic or otherwise, as we do seem to find at the beginning of fr. 1.
See Stehle (2009) n. 33; Wilson (1996) 158–171; Hardie (2005). Palmisciano (1998) 190–191 discusses previous secondary literature on this subject. Furthermore, it has been suggested that Aphrodite, who is invoked in Sappho’s fr. 1, functions as a double for the Muse, see e.g. Skinner (1991) 80–90. Yet, it is in fact the narrator Sappho herself who provides the information for which she asks.
For this passage, see e.g. Tarkow (1977).
Trans. Gerber (1999) 209.
Trans. Campbell (1992) 127.
As Maehler (2004) 86 ad 1–4 notes, her name ‘makes her particularly relevant for epinician poetry’.
In Bacchyl. 2.71, 92 and 5.1–4 too, as in 3.1–4, the Muse is not only mentioned in connection with the poet himself, but also in connection with the laudandus.
Young (1968) 84, n. 2; Pfeijffer (1999) 72–73; De Jong (2009) 103–104. Burnett (2005) 70 states that in Nemean 5 the choral narrator assumes the voice of the Muses, and that it is not possible to say where the Muses’ performance ends until Poseidon comes to the fore in line 38. She compares the passages with the mingling of the choral narrator’s voice with those of the choruses set up by the daughters of Proetus in Bacchylides Ode 13, for which see e.g. Carey (1999) 20.
A similar phenomenon may be found at Bacchylides Ode 17.124–132, where the Cean chorus, the performers of the ode, blend with the paean-singing chorus of Athenian youths about whom they sing. See e.g. Maehler (1997) 167–168, 210; (2004) 173; Carey (1999) 20; Wilson (2000) 46, 330 n. 203; Kowalzig (2007b) 88–94; De Jong (2009) 103–104.
West (1993b) calls this proem a hymn, but e.g. Capra-Curti (1995) 30 and Lloyd-Jones (1994) 1 argue against this.
An address of Achilles is probable in fr. 10.5 and almost certain in fr. 11.19–20 (the passage quoted above). For Achilles’ presence and address here, see e.g. Luppe (1993) 3; Obbink (1996) 194. It is unclear whether lines 7–8 (not printed) refer to Achilles’ or Patroclus’ death.
See e.g. Morgan (2015) 147–150 for the singling out and prominent role of Pausanias in the Plataea Elegy.
West (1993b) 5. He furthermore suggests that the poem may well have been composed at the time of some festival or ritual in Achilles’ honour. See Shaw (2001) 164–181 for the status of Achilles as a cult hero. Lloyd-Jones (1994) 1, in contrast, states that the address to Achilles is explicable because the narrator is merely aiming to do for the warriors at Plataea here what Homer did for Achilles and the warriors of the Trojan War, and therefore the passage would not imply a cult. Yet this mere comparison of the narrator’s poetic aim to Homer’s does not explain why the narrator apostrophizes Achilles.
Boedeker (2001) 149–163; contra Bremmer (2006) 15–26.
So Obbink (1996) 200 states that there is a threefold analogy here: ‘1) What the Greeks of epic did in rites of burial and funeral cult for Achilles; 2) What Homer did in his divinely inspired poems for the heroes of the Iliad; and 3) What Simonides himself does in the present elegy for the near-contemporary subjects of the section which follows.’ As scholars agree, I do not think that it is important that the death of Achilles, if that is what the Plataea Elegy narrates, is actually not recounted in Homer’s Iliad; for Simonides Homer was also the poet of the cyclic epics, in which the death of Achilles was narrated. The quotation of Obbink should therefore better be corrected to ‘What Homer did … for the Greek heroes fighting at Troy’.
Trans. West. Full text and translation in Boedeker and Sider (2001) 13–29.
For Simonides’ use of military terms in the Plataea Elegy, see Stehle (1996), especially 210–211.
It might also remind one of Sappho in her Hymn to Aphrodite, asking the goddess to be her
See for this point also Aloni (1994) 16; (2001) 95.
Translations of Pindar are from Race (1997), sometimes adapted.
Cf. Pyth. 1.58–60 and Nem. 9.1–10, where the narrator also includes the Muse in the first-person plural.
E.g. Ol. 9.81 ff., 13.96 ff., Pyth. 1.58 ff.
Pavlou (2012) 106. Cf. Kromer (1976) 433.
A great deal of scholarly work has been conducted on the metaphor of the Muses’ chariot, which occurs frequently in Pindar’s odes: e.g. Steiner (1986); Asper (1997) 26–39; Nünlist (1998) 255–264; Calame (2012b).
E.g. Mackie (2003) 52–53 and Race (1997) 179 ad Isthm. 5.38 also state that these questions are addressed to the Muse.
The questions span the Cypria, Iliad, and Aethiopis. See West (2011) 61.
See Burnett (2005) 96: ‘[the chorus] challenge the listener with questions that force him to supply three battlefield contests to his own inner eye, then cap these with a fourth. “Who killed Kyknos? Hektor? Memnon? Who wounded Telephos?” the chorus cries, and each time the spectator responds with a silent shout, “Achilles!” ’ (cf. 242). Burnett (Ibid.: 96–98) goes further in saying that the audience, because of their knowledge of older poetry, will remember a different Achilles-killer each time: against Cycnus a young warrior, against Hector a mature one, against Memnon a warrior that will soon die. The name of Telephus will recall ‘the victory by which Achilles came of age, the one in which he made his first show of defensive courage, the one that foreshadowed all the deeds of his adult years’ (97–98).