- Our speaker will be
introduced by Hugh Daschbach,
class of 1995.
Hugh is a director on the San
Antonio Alumni Chapter board
and by day, he is owner
and managing partner
of Ascent Recycling and Consulting, Hugh.
- Thank you Mary Kay.
Dr. Erwin Cook was born
in Edinburgh, Scotland
and attended UNC Asheville,
the universities of Zurich and Freiburg,
Columbia University, and UC Berkeley
where he received his PhD in 1990.
Upon graduating, Dr. Cook was hired
by the University of
Texas at Austin in 1990
as their Homer specialist
and was a visiting associate professor
at Johns Hopkins in '93 to '94.
Dr. Cook left UT for Trinity in 2003
where he was appointed the
T.F. Murchison Professor
for the humanities.
His appointment is in classics
but he also teaches the
HUMA Great Books seminar
and his courses are co-listed in history,
philosophy, and religion.
Dr. Cook's book, "The Odyssey
in Athens" was selected
as one of the outstanding
academic books of 1995
by Choice magazine
and was reissued in paperback
by Cornell University Press, 2006.
He is also the author of
over two dozen book chapters,
articles, and reviews.
One of his articles,
"Active and Passive
Poetics in the Odyssey"
has recently been anthologized
in "Oxford Readings in the Odyssey".
Dr. Cook has delivered
over 50 invited and
refereed public lectures,
that's 51 now, I suppose, today,
including a lecture
at the Leventis Foundation
conference in Edinburgh,
two Langford seminars at Florida State,
and the Cook Athenaeum
in Claremont, California.
Other honors include his
selection as a fellow
of Harvard's Center for Hellenic Studies
and the President's Associates
Teaching Excellence Award
at the University of Texas.
Dr. Cook was also recently asked
to write the introduction
to a new translation of the "Iliad"
for Johns Hopkins University Press.
Today, he will lecture on
the continued relevance
of the "Iliad" in the modern world.
As you can see, he's got
some great credentials
and I'll hope you'll join me
in welcoming Dr. Erwin Cook.
(audience applauds)
- Hope you don't mind if I close this up.
I need space for my paper.
I didn't realize what a big
deal this was quite frankly
until I was told I had to wear a coat
which I never did
but, in the spirit of rebellion,
I'm still wearing my
Birkenstock sandals so.
(audience laughs)
Okay, initially, I have to tell you,
I balked at the idea of lecturing
on the contemporary relevance of Homer
for a variety of reasons
but, mainly, because I'm of the camp
that maintains that
anything that is as powerful
and profound as the "Iliad"
is justified on its own terms
and doesn't require modern
relevance, whatever that means.
But I also realized that my
own self-justification here,
which also keeps me from
studying ancient graffiti
and medieval doorknockers,
does assume that, at some level of remove,
there are enduring
qualities to these artworks
that do indeed give them
contemporary relevance.
So instead of trying to sell
the "Iliad" on these terms,
I found I could do something
more in the spirit of the original request
and show how it allows
us to see certain aspects
of human nature and the human condition
with, what I hope will be clear to you,
is virtually shocking clarity.
In particular, I'll deal with
the Iliad's unvarnished portrayal
of the human will to power
and the psychological damage
that warriors sometimes
suffer on the battlefield.
As the "Iliad" begins,
Achilles has recently
sacked several cities
and, after the sack,
he is awarded a concubine named Briseis
and Agamemnon is awarded
another named Chryseis.
The father of Chryseis
soon arrives at the camp
and tries to ransom his daughter.
He bases his appeal on an offer of gifts
and his own authority
as a priest of Apollo.
Agamemnon brusquely dismisses the priest
who retires to the beach
and prays to Apollo for revenge.
Apollo hears his prayers
and causes a plague
that kills many Greeks.
On the 10th day, Achilles
calls an assembly
and asks if a prophet could explain
why Apollo is angry.
At that, Calchas stands up
and declares that the god is angry
because Agamemnon dishonored his priest.
So far, everything proceeds
according to a clear and orderly causality
and is, in fact, a model
of linear narrative.
But what follows is puzzling
in more than one way
and is sure to be misinterpreted
if we try to understand it
with our own cultural assumptions.
Agamemnon gives Calchas an evil look
and says to him, "Prophet of evil,
"never once have you
said anything good to me.
"All the same, I'm
willing to give her back
"if that's better.
"I would rather the army
be safe than to perish
"but you must straightway
make ready a prize for me
"so that I am not alone among
the Argives without a prize
"since that would be unseemly."
Achilles replies by asking
how the Achaeans can give him a prize
since they've already been distributed.
He, nevertheless, orders
Agamemnon to give the girl up
with a promise that the
Achaeans will repay him
with interest if and when
they sack the citadel of Troy.
Agamemnon replies, "Don't try to cheat me.
"You won't get past me nor persuade,
"or is it because you want
to have a prize yourself
"but me to sit around thus lacking one
"that you tell me to give her back?
"If the Achaeans do not give me a prize,
"I, myself, will take either your prize
"or the prize of Aias or Odysseus."
Achilles then asks Agamemnon
how anyone will follow him in the future,
for the Achaeans only came to Troy
to secure honor for him and Menelaus,
"But now," he declares,
"You are threatening
"to take my prize over
which I have labored greatly
"and the sons of the Achaeans gave me.
"Never do I get a prize equal to yours.
"Whenever the Achaeans
sack a prosperous city,
"though my hands manage the
bulk of the furious fighting,
"so now I will go back home to Phthia.
"I have no intention of gathering goods
"and wealth for you here."
Agamemnon bids Achilles to
flee, if that's what he wants,
for there are others who will
honor him, above all Zeus.
But he adds, "I threaten you thus.
"Since Phoebus Apollo has
taken Chryseis from me,
"I am going to come to your hut
"and lead off your prize, Briseis
"so that you will know how much
more powerful I am than you
"and another man would shudder
"to declare himself my equal."
Achilles deliberates killing
Agamemnon on the spot
but Athena descends from heaven
and instructs him to withdraw himself
and his men from the fighting
"For," she says, "you
will receive three times
"so many gifts on account of this hubris."
Achilles obeys.
Now, in the 25 years that
I've been teaching this poem,
I always dread this discussion
which always includes
variations on the following
from my students.
Agamemnon is being petty.
He is paranoid.
He is an idiot.
Achilles is acting like a spoiled brat.
They're both acting like spoiled brats.
If I'm really lucky, someone will ask
why did Agamemnon accuse Calchas
of never saying anything to his benefit?
Or how did Achilles realize so quickly
that Agamemnon wanted to take Briseis?
Or even, why do they keep
calling their women prizes?
(audience laughs)
Part of this, we can
dispose of rather quickly.
To begin with, Agamemnon's
supposed paranoia,
the poet tells us in his own voice
that Apollo caused Agamemnon
and Achilles to fight
because Agamemnon dishonored his priest.
He also said that Hera
put it in Achilles' mind
to call the assembly
because she was troubled that
the Achaeans were perishing.
We know that Agamemnon is at fault
and that Achilles is well intentioned
but this is plainly not
how Agamemnon sees it
and he is far from being paranoid.
It is, in fact, a fact of history that,
until World War II, more
soldiers died of disease
than in actual combat.
Dysentery, in particular,
was a constant threat.
Seen in this light,
Agamemnon sealed his fate
the moment he did not return Chryseis
since plague in the camp was inevitable
and would naturally be attributed
to Agamemnon's offense against Apollo,
who is the god of plagues.
Of course, it still remained
for someone to make that link
which may or not be real,
whatever that even means,
and which hardly matters
when the army is dying.
Agamemnon clearly thinks that Calchas,
who has a nasty habit of
making him lose young girls,
has invented the link
and he suspects he knows
who put him up to it.
When Achilles asks for a prophet
to explain the god's anger,
Calchas stands up and declares he knows
but demands that Achilles protect him
"For," he says "I believe
I will anger a man
"who powerfully rules over all the Argives
"and the Argives obey him."
Achilles replies at once, "Take courage
"and speak the prophecy you know
"for, by Apollo, dear to Zeus
"to whom you, Calchas, pray
as you reveal prophecies,
"no one will lay heavy hands on you,
"not while I live, not even
if you should name Agamemnon
"who now boasts that he is
much the best of the Achaeans."
"Why, it is Agamemon," Calchas exlaims,
"He dishonored the priest of Apollo."
Agamemnon is, then, not
the least bit paranoid.
It seems obvious to him
that Achilles has suborned the priest
in order to make Agamemnon lose face.
We're still left with
the issue of psychology
which is only sharpened when we recall
that Chryseis and Briseis are slaves
and that Achilles later declares
he wishes Briseis had, excuse me, had died
rather than caused the quarrel
that resulted in the death of Patroclus,
someone he plainly cares even
more deeply about than her.
Why then does he nearly
kill Agamemnon over her
in this scene
and how, to repeat the
question of my dream student,
does he so quickly realize
that Agamemnon intends to take Briseis?
Finally, why is Achilles'
love for Patroclus,
which is clearly nonsexual
in Homer, so intense
that later critics have
found it difficult to explain
except in sexual terms?
A full explanation involves us directly
in the continued relevance
of Homeric poetry
and to make my point,
I will take two radically
different approaches
to the scene,
one by comparing Homeric society
to inner city gang behavior,
and another comparing Homeric
warriors to Vietnam vets
suffering from post-traumatic
stress disorder.
My discussion of the
sociology of inner city gangs
is largely based on Elijah Anderson's
"The Code of the Streets"
which I included on your handout
should you get interested in this.
It's also, he did an article version of it
in Atlantic Monthly which is much shorter
and you can read in less than an hour.
Inner city gangs form a
society within society
with clearly defined members and rules.
This society arises
from a variety of causes
which include a lack of law enforcement,
little or no support
from society at large,
a lack of institutional superstructures
to protect individuals,
internalized contempt,
and rejection of society at large,
general poverty, helplessness,
and hopelessness.
In short, it assumes that
general weltanshauung
or worldview of personal
abandonment in a hostile world.
It's effect is a general sense
that there's little respect to be had
and therefore, everyone
competes to get what he can
of the little that is available.
Its further effect is that
as soon as one decides
to gain respect by being
feared, structures emerge
leading to formation of
the code of the streets.
Features of the code include,
above all, an obsession with respect.
Respect serves as an
intangible coat of armor.
It is a form of intimidation
designed to produce fear.
The psychology of respect is not, however,
simply based on self-preservation
but equally, on the need to be compensated
for a sense of
insignificance, powerlessness,
and a lack of alternatives
in the wider world.
It is thus an oppositional model
in which a group is structured by respect
and turns its back on
the rest of the world.
Within this world, life
regains its meaning
and, in this world of seeking
and preserving respect,
negotiations go on at a symbolic level
that involve clothing,
grooming, gait, demeanor,
facial expressions, and looking.
It is thus a form of prestation
in which physical objects
assert the respect one is owed.
"I wear this jacket because I can."
Dissing is also a symbolic activity
but it can quickly translate
into physical action.
The insult does not need to be true.
All that matter is that the
speaker can make it stick.
The code may center on one
being granted deference
however, as people
increasingly feel buffeted
by forces beyond their control,
what one deserves in the way of respect
becomes more and more
problematic and uncertain.
As a result, the code provides a framework
for negotiating respect.
Whereas violence is a given,
the code simply seeks to regulate it.
A person's clothing and
so on is thus designed
to prevent aggression.
That is, the goal is
to perform an identity
that prevents others from
challenging your respect.
The code is thus based on
physicality and intimidation
and it is ruthless.
A person who does not command respect
may be in immediate physical danger.
Appearance is reality.
Respect must therefore be
negotiated in real time.
It is hard to obtain,
is defined by the group,
has a quasi-material
basis, is quickly lost,
and is constantly under negotiation.
People who live by the
code have thin skins
and they're trigger happy.
That is, they're super
sensitive to slights,
in part because they
are possible precursors
to actual violence.
This is only exacerbated
by their sense of alienation from society
which leads to bitterness and anger
and further shortens their fuse.
There can be no deferral in this system,
both because of the
possibility of violence
and, equally, because there are
no institutional superstructures in place
to offer deferred redress.
This lack of superstructures
creates a profound sense
that one must take care of
oneself and of one's loved ones.
As important, there can be no deferral
because your self worth is
based on the group's perception
of who you are.
You or I might well walk
away from being degraded
because of our self image
precisely because we do not
have a sense of identity
as a public, real time negotiation.
A gang member, by contrast,
must respond at once,
not least because if he loses respect
in the eyes of the
group, he is vulnerable.
That is, there will be instant pressure
by the rest of the group
to lower his status still further.
And so, if he loses an encounter,
he may feel compelled to seek revenge
to restore his honor.
The gang member thus faces a double bind,
high status invites challenge,
low status is worse however,
as it invites spite.
Gang members learn the
rudiments of the code
already on the elementary
school playground.
As children, they form small groups
that become their primary social bonds.
In these groups, they test themselves
against other kids in
a campaign for respect.
Respect is then a zero-sum system
and disputes are a primary mechanism
of establishing rank and
structuring the group.
The code of the streets
is thus, in a sense,
a more sophisticated
and more lethal version
of fifth grade playground.
Put differently, we are never
more authentically human
than we are in fifth grade.
(audience laughs)
Aggression has a social meaning.
That is, aggression defines
the boys as individuals
and structures the group
as one boy succumbs
to another's superior
mental or physical powers.
There is no place for humility
in this system, or mercy.
Again, we see that code
involves self preservation
and public identity is what matters.
An individual's sense of self
worth counts for nothing.
The code is thus a
performance of "I am strong,
"I can take care of
myself and I love to fight
"so don't even think about it."
To return to the role of objects,
wearing a pair of Air Jordans
is a direct assertion of status.
The symbology of physical objects
also requires a rhetoric of scarcity,
of material poverty.
On the other hand, if,
out of fear of having his sneakers taken,
a gang member wears a pair
of Keds, he invites spite
and could be assaulted
for that very reason.
He does not have the
luxury of wearing Keds
in a display of goofy
chic or I don't care.
In acquiring valued things therefore,
a person shores up his identity.
But since it is an identity
based on having things,
it is highly precarious.
Whereas some boys perform
their status so well
as to avoid being challenged,
those unable to command respect this way
are especially alive to
the threat of being dissed.
Conversely, the pressure on the person
to have goods required to
perform his identity successfully
will make him covet someone else's,
especially if that person is perceived
as weak and easy prey.
And if he does take someone else's stuff,
seemingly ordinary objects
can become trophies
imbued with symbolic value
that far exceeds their monetary worth.
That trophy can also be intangible,
a person's honor stolen by
dissing him, for example.
Women are among the most important objects
that can be acquired or lost.
Martin Jankowski, who's
also on your handout,
claims that disputes over
the possession of women
are a significant source
of tension within gangs.
"There is no area," he
declares, "more sensitive
"and none that could do more
to destroy the unity of a gang
"than arguments over women."
Finally, a way of gaining
respect from the group
is to display nerve
by performing an action
that puts your life at risk.
True nerve is thus a public display
of a lack of fear of dying.
Being prepared to die garners respect
and death is preferable to losing it.
Those who behave in this manner
often lead an existential life
that may acquire meaning
when they are faced
with the possibility of imminent death.
Now, I hope you've already made
some immediate and significant connections
between the situation in the "Iliad"
and Anderson's account of gang behavior.
In fact, I want to claim
that the code of the streets,
the heroic code, and the
rules of Homeric society
are almost identical.
For example, we see at once
that both societies are
obsessed with honor.
From the code of the streets,
we can infer that the
Greek obsession with honor
implies feelings of insignificance,
helplessness, and poverty.
More important, it leads
to the further inference
that this is a normal human
response to such feelings.
As an oppositional model,
we can see the heroic code is the product
of largely environmental factors,
noting that we, for the most part,
are insulated from nature
while ancient man felt himself subject
to vast and often hostile forces
that he proceeded to
personify and sacrifice to.
As for dissing, we see
that Achilles' eloquence
in insulting Agamemnon
is a fundamental part
of the symbolism of honor.
In other words, it owes
its importance, in part,
to the fact that honor
is a symbolic economy.
On the other hand, Achilles is so quick
to infer that Agamemnon will take Briseis
because it is a cultural assumption
that both will engage in such activity.
For the same reason,
Agamemnon wrongly infers
that Achilles has engaged
in a naked power grab.
It is also clear why it is
not important to Agamemnon
whether the prophecy of Calchas is true.
All that matters is that he delivers
an authoritative performance
that Agamemnon cannot refute,
though he can attempt
to nullify its effect
by taking Briseis.
We also see that honor is
very much a zero-sum system.
Agamemnon can only
understand losing his honor
in terms of Achilles gaining it
in relative or even absolute terms.
In that honor is negotiated in real time,
it is difficult, if not impossible,
for Agamemnon to accept
deferral of compensation
that Achilles offers him.
What is truly remarkable
and requires divine
intervention to achieve
is that Achilles defers revenge
for the insult Agamemnon inflicts.
This issue is exacerbated
by a complete lack of
institutional superstructures
that could be used to
manage their conflict.
Moreover, honor is concretely embodied
in physical objects.
Briseis is, in effect, a pair of sneakers
and Achilles and Agamemnon
are engaging in bloodsport
over who gets to wear them,
hence the insistence
on calling her a prize.
This, again, implies a rhetoric,
if not the reality, of material scarcity
and it is a bloodsport
because to lose honor
is not only to become vulnerable,
it is an outcome even worse than death
since honor is the only
thing worth living for.
Above all, we are allowed to see
what the stakes are for
Agamemnon and Achilles.
As Agamemnon sees it,
his entire enterprise
of being at Troy is at stake,
while for Achilles, what's at stake
is the meaning of his,
or even human, existence.
If, following Schopenhauer and Nietzsche,
we accept that the will to
power defines us as human,
then Homer is probing
a very central nerve.
In other words, the epics allow us to see
the basic drives that
exist within all of us
which Homeric society
simply attempts to regulate
rather than to disguise or to suppress.
Now that we've established its relevance,
and I hope we have done this,
we can add to our understanding
with a more detailed
anthropology of Homeric society
which is structured
through agonistic exchange
or, what's often called,
competitive reciprocity.
Specifically, what I hope to add is that
variations of the social
dynamics we have observed
can emerge under any egalitarian system,
including our own by the way,
although it may be disguised
by cultural sanction.
Marcel Mauss teaches us that all exchanges
are prestations of things integral
to the social construction of ourselves.
Trade is thus domesticated warfare
or, in Freudian terms,
capitalism is a sublimated
version of the heroic code.
Let me repeat that.
In Freudian terms, capital
is a sublimated version
of the heroic code.
Moreover, even friendly exchanges
disguise agonistic exchange.
Egalitarian reciprocity
thus creates hierarchy
through being outsmarted,
simple errors of judgment, and coercion.
Georg Simmel call attention
to the tensions underlying
all social exchange.
Specifically, economic
exchange always involves
a sacrifice and resistance
and value, in fact, derives
from precisely this.
The social risks of exchange
are therefore enormous
while the nature of exchange
invites cunning and outright deception.
A gift is thus an imposition of identity
and even an unequal exchange
influences both parties.
Now, membership in Homer's society
is thus the result of performance,
of performing one's elite identity,
and having that performance
accepted by others.
Status is the result of
competitive exchange.
One establishes one's rank
by competing until meeting one's match.
To refuse to compete is to lose.
Goods are properly acquired
by competitive means,
including gift exchange,
marriage, and violence.
Athletic competition, viewed
as domesticated combat,
is another means.
Theft and trickery are also legitimate.
The thief has proved
that he is the better man
provided the theft remains unavenged.
Both warlike and peaceful
exchanges are designed
to transform equals into unequals.
No status can be acquired
by competing with someone
beneath you therefore.
Conversely, aiming too high is
a recipe for death or worse.
There is a relentless
pressure on the individual
to measure his abilities
and those of his possible opponents.
Such competition requires witnesses
since its function is social
in that the status one is given
by the very peers with which one competes,
the opinions that count
are the ones most grudgingly bestowed.
Risk is therefore greatly exacerbated
by the fact that honor
is a public construct.
Failure is immediately known
to everyone in the group.
So the "Iliad" then, on
this reading, is about rank,
about who is the best of the Achaeans,
and it exposes a problem at
the heart of elite competition.
Agamemnon believes he is
the best of the Achaeans
because he rules the most people.
Achilles believes that he is the best
because he is the greatest fighter.
Nestor reveals that his status,
that he is the best counselor
by not asserting that this makes him
the best of the Achaeans.
Agamemnon then uses his standing
within the political system
to deprive Achilles of status
won in the fighting system.
Achilles thus believes
he is owed compensation
that will acknowledge his true worth.
Agamemnon believes he cannot
jeopardize his social standing
by giving Achilles what he wants.
So much for the sociology and anthropology
of Homeric society.
Further light can be shed on the poem
by looking at modern combat veterans
suffering from PTSD, and I
want to argue vice versa,
that is to say we can understand
modern combat veterans
by reading the "Iliad" closely.
A breakthrough in this regard came in 1994
with the publication of
"Achilles in Vietnam"
by Jonathan Shay.
Jonathan, I use his first name
because he's actually a friend of mine,
is a doctor of clinical psychology
who has devoted much of his career
to treating Vietnam vets
suffering from the disorder.
In the book, Shay argues that PTSD
tends to arise from feelings of betrayal.
This results in shrinkage
of a soldier's social and moral horizons
until it only includes
a close friend or two.
If the friend is killed,
the soldier feels guilt
and often goes berserk.
If matters go this far,
psychological damage is real
and sometimes permanent.
Superior officers, referred
to endearingly as REMFs,
or Rear Echelon Mother Fuckers,
are comparable to the Homeric gods,
constantly interfering on the battlefield
in irritating and even deadly ways.
Ways of preventing and mitigating PTSD
include honoring the enemy,
proper grieving for the dead,
and communalizing grief and
trauma through narrative,
such as the "Iliad".
In all these ways, Shay
sees the Ancient Greeks
as dealing with PTSD more effectively
than the U.S. did post-Vietnam.
Part of this is due to what he finds
to be the tendency of
modern Western religion
to demonize one's opponent
and another, to the unfortunate fact
that war was a way of
life in the Greek world,
which had to therefore
have effective strategies
for dealing with psychological trauma
as a simple matter of survival.
That his audience consisted
almost exclusively of combat veterans
also ensured that Homer's description
was psychologically authentic.
Again, I hope that, at this point,
you're way ahead of me.
Agamemnon inflicts
moral injury on Achilles
by taking Briseis.
He does so by breaking
the social contract,
to which Achilles at once calls attention,
according to which soldiers
follow leaders into war
so that they can win status
by risking their lives in combat.
By reducing status as measured by prizes
to the whim of the leaders,
he has left Achilles with no reason
to risk his life by fighting.
Whereas Vietnam soldiers
withdraw psychologically,
Achilles does so physically.
But both do so because the
higher-ups have violated
the soldier's sense of what is right.
Any soldier, Shay claims,
and this, I find, just absolutely stunning
because he is making
a claim about cultures
that are 2,500 years apart
and continents apart, right.
Any soldier, right, will
respond with violent rage
and social withdrawal
under such circumstances.
His rage and withdrawal
leaves Achilles especially vulnerable
when his closest friend,
Patroclus, is killed
because Achilles himself sent him into war
but did not accompany him.
Shay's response to scholarly puzzlement
over the closeness of their bond
is that we classicists don't get out much.
(audience laughs)
And specifically, we are not vets, okay,
which is, in my case, completely true
on both accounts but never mind.
(audience laughs)
The result of that rage is a battle
in which Achilles so
dominates the fighting
that not a single other
Greek fighter is mentioned
for two full books.
He is, in short, berserk.
Yet his ability to share
his grief with Priam
at the end of the poem
restores Achilles to his humanity.
Shay also identifies a Homeric type scene
known as the aristeia,
or lone hero dominating the battlefield,
and that's on your handout,
as the formal, narrative
structure for berserking
or that is used to describe berserking.
Type scenes now are repeated
scenes, such as sacrifice,
that tend to follow the
same general structure.
The aristeia, or lone
fighter fighting at his best,
is used to structure all
the major battle sequences
in the "Iliad".
Its typical features include
the ones listed on your handout
and I won't read through them
but I'm going to take
you through an aristeia
so that you can see what it looks like
and actually also see Homer play a game
with our expectations.
So, to illustrate, I'll not use
Achilles' much longer aristeia
and more complex aristeia,
but the aristeia of his surrogate, really,
in many respects, Diomedes.
Diomedes aristeia includes the following
in which only element three is missing,
though even it could be included
if I wanted to get really ingenious.
So what I'll do is simply paraphrase
what he does on the battlefield
and show how it lines up with
the elements of the aristeia.
So element one, "Then,
in turn, Pallas Athena
"gave strength and courage
to Tydeus' son, Diomedes,
"so that he would be
conspicuous among the Argives
"and win noble fame."
Element two, "She kindled weariless fire
"from his helmet and shield
like the Star of Autumn
"which shines especially bright
"when it is bathed in Oceanus."
Element four, "Phegeus and
Idaios separate themselves
"from the ranks and face Diomedes.
"Diomedes kills Phegeus, other
Greeks kill their opponents,
"but," Homer says, "as
for the son of Tydeus,
"you would not know which side he was on,
"whether he consorted
with Trojans or Achaeans."
Element five, "Pandarus, the archer,
"stretched his curved
bow against Tydeus' son
"and struck him as he ran
on the right shoulder."
Element six, "Then, indeed, Diomedes,
"good at the war cry, prayed
"'Hear me, Child of aegis-bearing Zeus,
"'be kind to me Athena and
grant that I kill this man
"'and that he come
within range of my spear,
"'the one who struck me first
"'and then boasted over me.'"
Elements seven and
eight, "Athena stood near
"and addressed him, "Be of good courage,
"'I have put paternal might in your chest.
"'Moreover, I have taken
the mist from your eyes
"'which was formerly upon them
"'so that you may well
recognize both god and man.'
"Straightway, Tydeus' son went
"and mingled with the foremost fighters
"and though eager before at heart
"to fight the Trojans,
"then three times the
rage got hold of him."
Element eight, Diomedes
kills many Trojans,
including Pandarus and he wounds Aeneas.
Element eight now is set
up to look like our climax.
When Aeneas sees Diomedes
mowing down the Trojans,
he appeals to Pandarus for help.
Diomedes' charioteer, Sthenelus,
sees him advancing and declares,
"Come, let's fall back in our chariot.
"Do not rage like this
among the front ranks
"for fear you will lose your sweet life."
That line by Sthenelus is
meant to be pretty humorous
as it's tantamount to saying,
"Please don't fight, it's dangerous."
(audience laughs)
Diomedes replies in anger
that, of course, he will fight
and if he manages to kill them,
then Sthenelus is to
drive off Aeneas' horses
as a war prize.
In the event, Diomedes
kills Pandarus in revenge
and goes on to wound Aeneas,
whose fall Homer
describes with the formula
that normally indicates
the warrior, in fact, dies.
Aphrodite then tries to whisk
Aeneas off the battlefield
in a comic reprise of the rape of Helen
whereupon Diomedes wounds her.
When she ascends to heaven in distress,
the audience is prepared to believe
that the aristeia is now over.
He has, after all, just
wounded an Olympian god.
But the poet then
returns us to the battle,
to the scene of battle,
to find Diomedes still
attempting to kill Aeneas
even though Apollo is now protecting him.
"Back off," the god commands
and Diomedes does so, "a little bit",
the poet adds slyly.
Now, surely, we think,
the aristeia is over.
The god himself has marked the limits,
one might even say, of human striving.
But no, when Ares enters the battle,
Diomedes stands down as
Athena earlier instructed.
Then Athena returns and takes the reins
as Diomedes' charioteer.
I mean, think of this.
Athena is your charioteer.
I mean, come on.
It doesn't get better than this
if you're a hero, right.
(audience laughs)
Okay, so, and the two of them
then take off and wound Ares.
So after two false closures,
each serving to heighten the
drama of the actual climax,
we get that climax
together with the double simile
that marks the formal conclusion
of Diomedes' aristeia.
There follows element nine,
a double simile in which Ares cried
when Diomedes wounds him
is likened to that of
10,000 warriors in battle
followed by likening his ascent to heaven
to that of a storm cloud.
From a psychological
perspective, as outlined by Shay,
Diomedes suffers a triggering event
when Pandarus shoots him with an arrow.
Note that archery is treated
as a sneaky and even cowardly
mode of fighting in Homer
precisely because one can
do so from a safe distance
while catching one's opponents unawares.
Note that Diomedes expresses outrage
at both the attack and the
presumptuous boast that follows
in which Pandarus claims
Diomedes will soon die from his wound.
Boy, did he get that wrong.
Among modern vets, such
events often involve
feelings of betrayal.
Their leaders issue stupid warriors,
ah, stupid warriors,
well, maybe they do that too.
Their leaders issue stupid orders,
their equipment malfunctions,
that was, apparently, a
really serious one in Vietnam,
and so on.
Frequently, during the
height of their battle rage,
soldiers suffering acute PTSD
say they feel invulnerable,
superhuman even.
This has a direct analogy
in Athena's appearance
and its effect on Diomedes
but note that Diomedes
already seems out of control
during his initial exploits
when the poets declares
that you would not have recognized
whose side he was really on.
Nevertheless, the poet clearly marks
Diomedes' acquisition of new powers.
The mist is lifted from his eyes,
his battle rage increases,
and he gets a special weapon
consisting of none other than Athena
as his own charioteer.
It is important to note, in this context,
that Homer seems to see
this as a good thing
or, at least, as an awesome thing, okay.
(audience laughs)
So I'll conclude by asking you to consider
Homer's technical achievement
and Shay's social or strategic victory.
First, the technical achievement
which I would, again, argue
already makes Homer relevant
to any modern reader
who appreciates such things.
Simply put, battles on the
scale of those in Homer
are massive, random, chaotic,
and all but impossible to describe
without, likewise, being
massive, random, chaotic,
and, as a result, boring.
(audience laughs)
Very few stories of actual warfare
are any good as a result,
yet war narratives
remain hugely attractive,
in part because of the
existential tragedy of man
and the drama and
psychology that accompany it
are ever-present on a scale
that can feel downright superhuman.
Homer's solution to the problem,
his way to impose order on the chaos,
was precisely the aristeia
which also makes an ideological statement,
namely, individuals matter.
What had largely eluded scholarship
until Shay came along
was that the aristeia is also
a psychological transcript,
the narrative of traumatic stress,
and the psychological
disorder that issues from it.
When Shay first started
treating Vietnam Vets,
in addition to their physical
and psychological injuries,
they had suffered from years
of neglect and indifference.
As many of you can personally attest,
this was, in part, a tragic consequence
of America's own conflicted
views on the war itself.
And this is another point
to which Shay calls attention.
"Whether you or I support a given war,
"we are morally obligated to
support the ticker tape parades
"when the soldiers return.
"It is enormously important
for their wellbeing
"and the wellbeing of all of society
"to help them feel that
they have truly returned
"and to give them instruments
"to communalize their
grief and their suffering."
In short, what Shay accomplished
was to tap into the
enormous cultural prestige
of Homeric epic
to show that the suffering of our veterans
is a universal human experience.
By relocating Achilles to Vietnam,
he made it possible for our own vets
to tell their stories and
for their voices to be heard
and it doesn't get more
relevant than that.
Thank you very much.
(audience applauds)
Any questions?
I've stunned you into silence.
(audience laughs)
(woman speaks faintly)
- (Woman at microphone)
I've heard a term recently
called moral injury
and making a distinction with PTSD.
Do you know about that
and how that would fit in with all?
- [Dr. Cook] Yeah, well,
the entire concept of PTSD
is now being renegotiated
because it's seen as far more complicated
than it was in 1994.
But moral injury is the
heart of what Shay sees
as causing the onset
of the disorder, if I can just use
the term that he used back then.
So this, I think the discussion is going,
in all honesty, is going
to look a lot different
in about a decade
because we're just now
really re-addressing
some of the basic
assumptions of what PTSD is
and even if that's the
appropriate term to use.
The biggest point that Shay would want me
to stress though
is that this is real psychological injury.
But, as I said, we're still learning
what we're talking about
and, unfortunately, we've
got an incredible opportunity
to study it right now.
So I suspect we're gonna know
a whole lot more about it
within this generation so.
- Along the same line,
I have a acquaintance who was a,
he's a veteran of the Iraq
wars, he's still in the army.
He had to go on an assignment
to retrieve the bodies
of some of his colleagues
in the squad who had died
when their Humvee was blown up
and now he occasionally
sees them in formation
when they are lined up.
He states he sees them.
I wonder if Homer ever dealt with
people suffering from that,
where they've actually imagined seeing
their dead friends and colleagues alive.
- That's a great question.
I can take you to a passage that I,
well, let me describe the passage
and then see what you think about this.
In book 23, Achilles is
sort of in a restive sleep
and Patroclus actually appears to him
and says, "I need you to bury me," okay.
Now that's, you know, from
a sociological standpoint,
that's actually, what's called,
a cultural misrecognition.
What the society needs is to bury him,
not the deceased, right.
But he lays a serious
guilt trip on Achilles
and Achilles leaps out of bed
and tries to embrace him
and the guy just disappears
right through his arms.
So this is clearly a kind of waking dream
and it's arguably the only hallucination
that Homer describes in either epic.
There's one other passage in "The Odyssey"
that I would argue
could be a hallucination
but it's pretty strikingly hallucinatory
and it's precisely a vision
of a deceased comrade, okay.
- [Man] Thank you.
- You mentioned earlier
about the relationship
between Achilles and Patroclus
and how it has kind of been misread
in contemporary society
and I've gotta admit,
I was one of the ones
who misread it when I first read it
because they seemed a lot closer than,
I was, and I said "Oh wow," you know,
these soldiers are very close.
(audience laughs)
Can you give some more context
on how to view the relationship?
- Well, yes, Shay calls
particular attention
to the intensity of the
bonding that takes place
between combat veterans
who, especially when they've had
a lot of their fellows die around them,
they tend to, their space collapses,
and they are incredibly close
which, of course, makes the
stake of one of them dying
that much worse.
His conclusion, from having
interviewed all these vets
and talking about their
buddies and things like that,
was that Achilles' grief could
not have been any greater
if they were lovers
nor would it have been
any less if they weren't.
You know, in other words,
it's a complete irrelevancy
from the standpoint of the bonding,
that this is simply what happens
when you're in constant
existential crisis,
sometimes for months or
even years on end, so.
- [Woman] Just a sec.
- I heard that that movie,
"Brother, Where Art Thou?"--
- Oh okay, I thought you
were gonna say "Troy"
and I was gonna
(audience laughs)
disappear behind this podium.
- And if so, do you think so and how?
- Well yeah, the Coen brothers,
if I am correct on this,
have also disavowed ever
having even read "The Odyssey".
(audience laughs)
So I can believe that
having seen the movie.
But there are so many scenes in it
that seem to get some real traction
from knowing the Homeric, if I
can use this term, intertext.
You know, seeing it bounce off of Homer,
the radio station owner
for me is just flawless
in that regard
and the cyclops, I can't
remember, is that John Candy?
- [Audience Member] It's John Goodman.
- Okay, yeah, that was,
I thought that was just flawless.
I mean, that was just exactly,
handled exactly right.
So, but at the end of the day,
I mean, I don't think your
enjoyment of that movie
depends on your being
particularly familiar
with "The Odyssey".
(audience laughs)
- You had said something
about the use of archery
being ignoble and kind
of a dirty trick then.
Harper's Magazine which, for
some reason, is in my purse,
in the Harper's index,
the first two things
they have listed
are "Chance that a U.S. combat pilot
"suffers from a mental
health problem is 1 in 17.
"That a remote drone
pilot does is 1 in 12."
I think that seemed kind of put together.
- Yeah, yeah, that's,
yeah, there's no question that somebody
that is themselves a remote fighter
probably has a statistically less chance
of suffering from the
kinds of traumatic stress
that somebody that's
actually on the battlefield,
although Shay would come right back at me
when I say that
and say that, actually, by insisting
that your opponent is a fellow human being
that has dignity and honor,
you so dramatically lower the chance
of that person suffering stress,
there's probably no real
difference between the two.
It is, however, true that, in the "Iliad",
Paris, who's the most
notorious archer, and Pandarus
are complete flakes, you know.
So what you wanna do with
that, I'm not exactly sure
but one thing you can say without question
is that it's against
the ideology of Homer.
I mean, if the idea of going
out into that battlefield
is to try to take down the
biggest possible game you can
and you're going to acquire status
as a result of doing that,
then you gain nothing
by just taking an arrow
and shooting it up into the air.
Even if you took down Agamemnon,
it wouldn't do much for you.
It's precisely the risk
that makes this meaningful, so.
- [Woman] (speaking faintly)
very much, it was wonderful.
- Thank you, I appreciate that.
(audience applauds)
