The World of Homer
"'Agamemnon hears the music of the joyous Trojan pipes and
flutes, and sees the reflected glow of their camp fires,
we must suppose, for he could not see the fires themselves
through the new wall of his own camp, as critics very
wisely remark' (_Homer and his Age,_ p. 260).
"'We must suppose.' But how can we suppose anything of
the sort? '_Many_ fires' are not a glow. If the point were
merely that the wall is ignored in this passage, let us say
simply that the poet forgot it. But the point is, that the
wall is ignored consistently throughout the Book, and that,
all about the poem, similar traces of ignorance respecting
this vitally important object are found from time to time.
If that is a phenomenon commonly observed in narratives
known to be from one hand, or otherwise designed for
continuity, let some of these narratives be produced for
comparison."
Mr. Verrall argues, we see, that I ask, in each case, "is this
discrepancy too bad for a single author?" but neglect the cumulative
weight of _all_ the discrepancies. That is not, consciously, my
method; that fallacy I seek to avoid. I try to prove that most of the
discrepancies which I examine are not really discrepancies at all--have
_no_ weight,--and a mass of such imponderable objections has no
cumulative ponderosity. I do argue that the actual inconsistencies are
comparatively few, not more or worse than the similar inconsistencies
in the _Aeneid_, or _Don Quixote_.
But Mr. Verrall thinks that my explanations, or defences, of the
alleged discrepancies "often seem hardly serious." He gives one example
of my deplorable flippancy from _Iliad_, Book x. Now I readily grant
to Mr. Verrall that I had no right to explain Agamemnon's view, from
bed, in his hut, of the Trojan camp-fires beyond the wall of the Greek
camp as merely the glow in the sky caused by these fires.[2] As Mr.
Leaf puts it, "the poet does not seem to have a very vivid picture of
the situation." In bed, in a hut (x. 11-14), Agamemnon could only see
the Trojan fires on the rising ground beyond the wall, _and_ the Greek
ships, "in his mind's eye."
But Mr. Verrall proceeds to give a fine example of what I call "an
imaginary discrepancy." "The wall is gone.... Nor is this a momentary
inadvertence; for through the whole of Book x., though its story is
such that the wall, if there, must be visible to the narrator (so to
say) constantly, though the camp boundary is passed several times,
never is there trace of anything but a ditch."
This is merely an inadvertent misstatement of fact. Not only the
new fosse round the Greek camp, but the gates of the new wall are
mentioned. No wall, no gates!
Let us examine the history of wall, gates, and ditch. "In Book ix.
69-87 the Greek camp has a wall." The nature of the wall is explained
by Nestor in Book vii. 337-343. The wall-making is similarly described
in 437-441. The wall has (1) towers, (2) gates (or one gate), "that
through them (or it) may be a way for chariot-driving," and (3) there
is "a deep foss hard by to be about it," with a palisade, to "hinder
the horses and footmen" of the Trojans.[3]
Now, even if only the fosse were mentioned in Book x., that fosse is
part of the fortification first made and mentioned in Books vii. viii.
and ix. 87, 88, where the advanced guard takes position "between the
fosse and the wall." Precisely there, Agamemnon, in Book x. 126, 127,
expects to find the advanced guard. The poet, in Book x., has certainly
not forgotten the fortification of Books vii. viii. ix., for he does
not merely, as Mr. Verrall declares, mention the fosse, though why does
he do so, if he forgets the wall which was made at the same time? By
a negative hallucination Mr. Verrall has failed to see that he also
mentions the gate. "We will find the advanced guard _before the gate_,"
says Agamemnon (x. 126).
Now no mortal can assert that when a poet mentions the gate, he
mentions nothing but the fosse! Both fosse and gates are _new_: the
gates are a necessary part of the wall; and only a critic on the search
for a discrepancy could overlook the fact that the poet of Book x.
knows all about the fortification of Books vii. viii. ix. The poet
has no occasion to say "the gates _in the wall_"; the gates could be
nowhere else. Had there been a wall with no gates, which is absurd, the
poet would have had to make the princes scale the wall; and, had he
known nothing about the new fortification, he could not have mentioned
the new gates and the new fosse.
I repeat, in ix. 65, 88, Nestor bids the advanced post take position;
and they do so, "betwixt fosse and wall"; and there, "before the gate"
(x. 126, 127), Agamemnon expects to find them. The "discrepancy" is due
to Mr. Verrall's imagination.
Before accusing Homer of extraordinary discrepancies, we ought to read
him with ordinary care.
Knowing the new fosse, and the new gate, both of them unheard of
before Book vii., the poet is beyond doubt acquainted with the whole
of the new fortification. "The analytic reader," for whom Homer did
not sing, catches him at another place. How did Dolon expect to creep
among the host, when there was a wall? How was he to enter? We can
only reply that if he found the advanced post drowsy, he must enter in
the darkness, by climbing up "where the wall was built lowest." The
host was suspected to be meditating flight, and, in their confusion,
_keeping no guard_, so Hector fancied (x. 310-312).
Mr. Verrall says that in Book x. "the wall is gone, as it does go and
come throughout the fighting scenes of the _Iliad_." I have carefully
re-read Books xi.-xv., in which the wall is of importance, and find
no moment in which the wall is absent when, if present, it ought to
be mentioned. It is true that Mr. Leaf infers that it was absent in
a portion of the poem earlier than our present _Iliad_, but that is
merely a conjecture of his own. He also says (Introduction to Book
xiii.) that the _Aristeia of Idomeneus_ (xiii. 29-518) "altogether
ignores the wall." The whole passage is occupied with fighting
_within_ the wall, which the Trojans have entered _en masse_. The
reader or listener knows that, and the poet has no sort of reason for
mentioning the wall. But he remembers that the Trojan chariots, except
that of Asius, stopped and were arrayed at the ditch, so (xiii. 535,
536), the wounded Deiphobus, like the stricken Hector later, is carried
out of the fight "to the swift horses that waited for him behind the
battle, with the charioteer and chariot," and is conveyed to Troy.
The wall is never forgotten, though the description of simultaneous
confused fighting at several points is not a model of lucid military
history. So much for "the heavy and the weary weight of all this
unintelligible" wall. The alleged discrepancy in Book x., insisted on
by Mr. Verrall, is an imaginary discrepancy; a thousand such would,
collectively, be imponderable.
We now turn to what Mr. Leaf calls "a crying contradiction, a
contradiction perhaps the most patent in the _Iliad_, which can in no
way be palliated." Mr. Leaf's point is that "the words (and acts) of
Diomedes in vi. 123-143" are "in crying contradiction" with "the words
of Athene in v. 124-132, and the subsequent victories of Diomedes
over the gods."[4] In fact, Diomedes, in _Iliad_, vi. 123-129, doubts
whether Glaucus, whom he has not encountered before, be a man or a god,
and says that he will not, if the stranger be a god, fight against
him. He then adds (130-143) the story of the punishment of Lycurgus
by Zeus, when Lycurgus had beaten the Maenads, and driven Dionysus to
seek refuge with Thetis. The whole passage is easily detachable, and
may, Mr. Leaf says, be the work of "some pious revivalist; the Bacchic
worship was unknown to the Achaean heroes." We cannot be certain that
they did not know the _Thracian_ myth which Diomedes tells: this they
might know, though they did not worship Dionysus, who, like Demeter,
is scarcely alluded to in the _Iliad_[5]
But the point is, are the words of Diomedes to Glaucus in crying
contradiction with the words of Athene in v. 124-132, and with
Diomedes' "subsequent victories over the gods?" First, he had but one
such victory; encouraged by Athene, he wounded--the harmless Aphrodite!
We quote the words of Athene to Diomedes: "Moreover, I have taken
from thine eyes the mist that erst was on them, that thou mayest well
discern both god and man. Therefore, if any god come hither to make
trial of thee, fight not thou face to face with any of the immortal
gods; save only if Aphrodite, daughter of Zeus, enter into the battle,
her smite thou with the keen bronze."
The subsequent events are _(Iliad_, v. 330-340), Diomede scratched the
hand of Aphrodite with his spear-point. Much encouraged, he tries to
spear Aeneas, over whom Apollo has spread his arms. Apollo threatens
and terrifies him (434-442). Diomedes has now had enough of braving the
gods. He gives way; and bids his men give way when he sees Ares with
Hector (601-606). But Hera and Athene have the command of Zeus to stop
the fighting of Ares (765, 766), and Athene bids Diomedes attack the
god. He refuses, "You bade me fight no god but Aphrodite" (819-824).
Athene thrusts away Diomedes' charioteer, drives his chariot against
Ares, grasps and turns the spear of that god, and _herself_ drives the
spear of Diomedes into the belly of the god, and withdraws the spear
(825-859).
This is no victory of Diomedes', and he knows it. It is, says Homer,
Athene who has stopped Ares in his manslayings (see 909). Athene and
Hera now leave the field; Ares has fled, no god is any longer present.
It is after the retiral of all the gods, notably of her who had given
him, "for this occasion only," the gift of knowing god from man, that
Diomedes doubts whether Glaucus, whom he has not encountered before,
be divine or human. Having been terrified by Apollo, and remembering
Athene's command to fight no god but Aphrodite, Diomedes is naturally
cautious, in view of a splendid unknown antagonist, and asks, "Who of
mortals, sir, art thou, for never have I seen thee before? thou alone
darest to meet my deadly spear. If thou art an immortal, then I will
not fight with the gods of heaven."[6]
The gift of Athene, the discerning of gods from men, has lapsed when it
ceased to serve her turn, now that her task is ended. She has fulfilled
the command of Zeus, has stopped Ares, and has retired to Olympus;
while no god is left in the field to be discerned. To this is reduced,
when we look at the facts, "a contradiction perhaps the most patent in
the _Iliad_, and one which can in no way be palliated." The audience of
Homer would understand, naturally, but "the analytic reader," in hot
search of discrepancies, credits Diomedes with "victories over gods"
which he did not gain, and overlooks his caution, and his obedience to
the command of Athene. What must the other contradictions be when this
is "perhaps the most patent"?
A yet more scandalous discrepancy in the _Iliad_ remains to be noticed.
"It is a contradiction," says Mr. Leaf with manly indignation, "at the
very root of the story, as flagrant as if Shakespeare had forgotten
in the Fifth Act of _Macbeth_ that Duncan had been murdered in the
second."[7] If Shakespeare had made that error, and, like Fielding, had
told his manager that the public would never notice it; like Fielding,
when he heard the hisses and catcalls, he would probably have murmured,
"Damn them, they _have_ found it out!" But though Homer's error was as
flagrant as the suggested resuscitation of the gracious Duncan, for
three thousand years nobody "found it out." It was discovered by Mr.
Grote, an excellent banker, but no great poetical critic; and by a