39 pages • 1 hour read
Barry StraussA modern alternative to SparkNotes and CliffsNotes, SuperSummary offers high-quality Study Guides with detailed chapter summaries and analysis of major themes, characters, and more.
“Spectacular new evidence makes it likely that the Trojan War indeed took place. New excavations since 1988 constitute little less than an archaeological revolution, proving that Homer was right about the city.”
Strauss predicates his review of the Homeric account of the Trojan War on archaeological evidence that has come to light over the past twenty years. Not only has ancient Troy been discovered, but there is evidence of multiple strata of Trojan history, including evidence of substantial fires and violent conflict at the settlement level Troy VIi, circa 1210-1180BCE, around the time of Homer suggests that the Trojan War occurred.
“The Greeks were the Vikings of the Bronze Age. They built some of history’s first warships.”
The Greek facility with sea power allowed them to raid Troy’s allies and gradually weaken their opponents both in the Homeric epics and according to the archaeological evidence Strauss presents. Despite the majority of the action of The Iliad taking place on land, sea power is an essential force in the epic. The stalwart Trojan fortress contrasts with the mutability of the Greek seafarers. Strauss figures the logistics of the Greek landing at Troy in far more familiar terms, comparing the onset of the Trojan War with the D-day landings. Despite the trouble that the Greek warlords have in sailing home again, famously charted in The Odyssey, it appears that these sea raids contributed to the destabilization of Bronze Age citadels.
“But if the resulting picture builds on Homer, it differs quite a bit from the impression most readers get from his poems.”
The Homeric epics were scribed some 500 years after the actual Trojan War took place, so they are naturally focused on rhetoric rather than historical accuracy. Plot devices structure the tales, time expands and contracts, and the characters and events more often bear a symbolic rather than literal relation to events. This said, Strauss shows that there are many ways in which Homer’s story is strikingly accurate, preserving details of the conflict within the trappings of the epic form.
“The Bronze Age was an era that preferred to put things in personal terms rather than in abstractions. Instead of justice, security, or any of the other issues that would be part of a war debate today, the Bronze Age tended to speak of family and friendship, crime and punishment.”
One of the chief ways in which the Homeric epic preserves the customs that guided the original conflict is in the personal rather than collective focus of the narrative. The masses are eschewed for the valorous efforts of a handful of godlike heroes in The Iliad. Though this might seem an obvious piece of poetic license, in fact Bronze Age culture was characterized by this emphasis on the personal rather than the collective as we do today. This is true even on the level of language, with the words for army, “stratos,” meaning “encampment,” and the word for war, “polemos,” meaning “engagement of opposing warriors.”
“Paris’s Greek name—Alexander—might mean that he was descended from King Alaksandu, who forged Troy’s alliance with the Hittites.”
Strauss examines the origins of the Trojan War in light of the archaeological evidence. Even classical historians found the love affair story improbable, and it is clear that in Bronze Age culture, women were valued in the same way as slaves, cattle and possessions. Thus, Homer’s predication of the conflict on a flirtation between Helen and Paris belies the far more potent motivations supplied by her wealth (a sizeable dowry) and power (the legitimacy conferred through marriage). It may just be that Paris, aka Alexander, erred in a diplomatic exchange with the Hittites, and the Helen story arose in explanation.
“Maybe they are all fiction, but as a group they represent the Bronze Age art of war.”
Despite the possible nominal link between Paris and Alaksandu, many of the characters in the epics are clearly archetypes, whose traits are emblematic. Unlike modern literature, classical texts often rework known mythology without worrying about the notion of originality. This does not mean that Homer’s heroes bear no relation to the original proponents of the conflict, however, only that they portray them in a figurative manner. The Greeks were generally raiders by sea, with Troy a wealthy trade hub of the kind that gradually became extinct through such conflicts.
“Achilles. Linear B tablets refer to a group of royal officials as ‘followers’ and to the commander of the laos as the ‘man who assembles the warrior band.’This latter is, possibly, lawagetas in Mycenaean Greek, and some scholars think that the name Laertes, Odysseus’s father, is just a contraction of that word.”
It may be that classical audiences had far more sensitivity for linguistic inferences in Homer’s text than we do. Given the lack of emphasis on originality and the preference for types, tropes and figures in classical literature, it is unsurprising that many characters are simply named after these functions. Pantheism is based on the personalization of abstract events in much the same way. Heroes are characterized through their epithets in Homer, indicating once more that characters are emblematic of traits and qualities. Classical characters are far more objective than subjective.
“[…] a Greek coalition around 1200 might well have mustered hundreds of ships at Aulis—but not 100,000 men. Fielding an army that big in a protracted war seems beyond the means of a Bronze Age society.”
Ancient historians have questioned the numbers cited in Homer, who has a tendency to exaggerate the scale of the conflict for effect. Yet he is more accurate than one might anticipate, and while a ten-year period elapses in both his epics, it is clear that this is once again not intended to be literal so much as a figure of speech that can be taken to mean “a long time.”
“Where, then, did the Greeks land? Homer offers no clear answer, but the clues in his text point to the west side of the Bronze Age bay; the best Hellenistic and Roman sources agree; modern experts are divided.”
Historians have gone so far as to attempt to pinpoint the exact disembarkation point of the Greek army. Though the topography of the bay has shifted since the Bronze Age, Strauss conjectures that the sun might have been in the Trojans eyes as they looked out on the black ships.
“Both sides would have made an effort to get their heroes to the fore: that is, the nobles. This was a sound tactic as well as realistic politics, because the heroes were better armed, better trained, and better fed than the common soldier.”
Homer has his Trojan hero, Hector, kill the first Greek to land at Troy, which may seem improbable to modern readers. Strauss shows, however, that once again Homer is more accurate than it might immediately appear, given the role of champions in leading their men, and their superior training, armor and nutrition.
“When it comes to the rank and file, the silence of the sources and the clamor of reality are typical of the Bronze Age. Hittite and Egyptian texts, for example, often tell the story of a battle the same way: the Great King or pharaoh single-handedly defeats masses of enemy soldiers.”
Homer’s heroes are the center of the action in The Iliad, with little mention of the lesser ranks of the armies entering the narrative. The heroes carve their way through the field, slaying twenty men in one rampage and emerging unscathed, or recovering from near-fatal wounds within hours, with the help of their patron gods. The fate of the masses is figured in their champions, but also forgotten in the accounts of history scribed by the powerful. Once again, Homer’s account is in keeping with Bronze Age culture and literature.
“This would have been ‘disgraceful’ and ‘an outrage,’ as Agamemnon later put it. But it would have been a smart move. Killing Menelaus would not only have cost the Greeks a prominent (if not overly effective) leader, but it would also have stripped the war of its logic.”
After abducting Helen, the Trojans retreat behind walls of hospitality, or “xenia.” Their conservatism, in contrast with the underhand techniques and raids of the Greeks, characterizes their defensive approach to the war. In broad strokes, Homer may well have accurately represented the dispositions of the two armies.
“Troy itself had suffered civil war not long before in the 1200s B.C., forcing the exile of King Walmu, a Hittite ally. So Priam and his family had to tread carefully.”
Trojan conservatism in Homer’s epics may have been based on historical fact. The unrest embodied by Antenor in Homer was a reality in Troy not more than a generation before the Trojan War. Should the Trojan leaders have been contending with a precarious level of civil strife, their defensive approach to the war is all the more plausible.
“Men needed to believe that the deities cared about their fate because the alternative was the loneliness of death.”
Whilst Homer’s all-too-convenient divine interventions at times almost threaten to turn the Trojan War into a charade, their appearance on the battlefield may reflect the desperate reality in which many soldiers found themselves. The conditions in the Greek camp must have necessitated regular raids on neighboring Trojan allies in order to preserve morale. The seemingly gilded lives of the heroes have a poignant subtext.
“Achilles’ conduct during these raids says a lot about the laws of war, such as they were, in the Late Bronze Age.”
Though Achilles spares many captured nobles and negotiates with Troy for their safe return, his practice is also merciless, and in keeping with archaeological evidence of conduct at Bronze Age raids. Achilles may appear callous to modern readers, but he is no more so than the typical Bronze Age warlord, as documented in contemporaneous Hittite texts.
“Each man’s share was known as his geras, his “gift of honor” or “prize.” But sometimes it was a poison gift: fights over the division of the spoils are documented in later Greek history, and so were mutinies by sailors over their pay.”
Strauss confirms that the looting and fights that take place over booty on the battlefield in Homer accurately represent Bronze Age fighting practices. While honor and prestige may have been powerful motivators for soldiers, the spoils of war were clearly integral for maintaining morale.
“The Hittites blamed epidemics on the god’s anger. Western Anatolians were used to the connection between gods and illness, since the local war-god Iyarri was also the god of pestilence, and he was called ‘Lord of the Bow’— similar to Apollo ‘of the glorious bow.’”
Bronze Age peoples discerned the influence of the gods in any human endeavor, especially one as risky as war. In this sense, their conception of the world as constantly influenced by the divine pertained more to storytelling than our modern one. Homer’s tale is once again more accurate than a modern reader might give the bard credit for.
“Homer’s account of what follows is amusing, but mutiny was serious business to Bronze Age commanders. With vicious wit Thersites expressed the misgivings that many must have felt about the king who had dishonored Greece’s greatest fighting man.”
Thersites is clearly a manifestation of the dissatisfaction of the Greek army. His scurrilous language and presumptuous attitude towards the Greek leaders is matched by an unappealing physical appearance. Thersites, though, may be an accurate representation of many disaffected members of the Greek army, whose hygiene, nutrition and armor would all have been inferior to that of the Greek generals.
“A contest between champions was standard procedure in the Bronze Age.”
Modern readers may wonder what happened to the thousands of men that Homer says the Greeks mustered when they read The Iliad. There are no more than a handful of warriors on each side of the war whose actions on the battlefield are recorded, while the reader is left to fill in their surroundings by inference. Yet dramatic contests, such as the showdown between Paris and Menelaus, are recorded in Bronze Age texts.
“Homer’s emphasis on duels between heroes is more likely to reflect Bronze Age literary style than actual Bronze Age warfare.”
The confrontations of the heroes on the battlefield at Troy that Homer’s narrative relates are far more gripping than the likely reality. The slow attrition of raids and the dismemberment of Troy’s allies more accurately represents the probable nature of the war, which would have been decided not by a few godlike heroes but by the masses, whom Homer overlooks. The problem here is that history is rarely transcribed for posterity in enough detail as to accurately represent the life of the common soldier.
“Dolon—the name is derived from the Greek dolos, trick—was the only boy among his father Eumedes’ six children.”
Dolon is one example of several etymological links identified by Strauss between characters and the traits that they embody. Often in Homer, we see that linguistic clues indicate symbolic resonance to the literal events. This symbolism is at times latent and at other moments prominent. Symbolism hovers behind the narrative at a linguistic level in the same way that the world of the gods hovers over that of men in Homer.
“Reading the omens was standard practice in Bronze Age warfare. Hammurabi of Babylon (1792–1750 B.C.), for example, announced that he would not have launched a major offensive without first consulting the gods.”
The appearance of signs and omens, and the pronouncements of the many seers in Homer’s story, confer a sense of sanctity on the conflict. In much the same way, ancient rulers must have looked to the divine to justify their martial expeditions and shore up their decisions in the face of the unknown. Homer’s seers are always accurate, and where his heroes contravene their advice, they pay for their actions. Homer validates his own poetic voice by association with these omniscient seers.
“These accounts were embroidered by such later writers of antiquity as Pindar, the Attic tragedians, Vergil, Statius, Dictys of Crete, Quintus Smyrnaeus, and Apollodorus—not to mention Herodotus and Thucydides. Where Homer is severe and restrained, some of these other authors revel in gossipy details.”
A variety of versions of a singular story is typical of classical literature, which was unconcerned with originality and authorship in the way that modern literature is today. Homer is tonally disparate from later versions of the tale, drawing a uniquely balanced picture of the war. The components of Homer’s fiction hang together with a unity that gives conviction to his account of the war.
“Deceit is not unique to the Trojan saga; it was a fundamental ingredient in Hittite military doctrine.”
The Trojan Horse is a mystery within a mystery. While Homer’s wooden horse is a vehicle for a secret bevvy of soldiers, it is also a figure for the deceptive methods used by the original Hittite warriors. The nature of this subterfuge is occluded by history, further compounding the mystery that the Trojan Horse represents. As a historical source, Homer’s epics are a Trojan Horse: they represent the events while allowing the actual events to slip through the cracks. Homer’s genius is to employ this Greek trickery in his assault on the events of history.
“Archaeology shows that after the burning and probable sacking of Troy VIi, the city was reconstructed—and in no mean way. Wherever possible, old buildings were repaired and streets were repaved, but new structures went up as well. Troy VIj (formerly known as Troy VIIb1)—to use the archaeologists’ ungainly name for this new Troy—was not poor.”
Just as Virgil describes in The Aeneid, the rebuilding of Troy into a thriving metropolis is an important phase of its history. The regeneration of the sacked city is a literary figure that has literal foundations, in the archaeological evidence of Troy VIj. Strauss shows archaeology in service of the classical epics’ reconstruction of Troy again and again from the ashes of history.