Notes

Introduction

1Aloni (2009: 181).

2See Derderian (2001), Arrington (2015), Tentori Montalto (2017).

3Daux (1972: 503–66).

4Some clarifications about the meaning of these concepts (arete, agathos, aristos, kleos) in the world of Homer can be found in Adkins (1960, 1971, 1997) and Long (1970). In Spanish, see the interesting study of Lledó (1998).

5Burkert (1985).

6CEG 593; further information, Chapter 4.

1  The funerary landscape: a reflection of the world of the living

1I use the term ‘necropolis’ here in a generic sense. We also find examples of the ‘family plot’ (pantheons). The existence of cemeteries in a strict sense, even the Kerameikos itself, is debatable. See Patterson (2006: 56): ‘The Ceramicus itself was known in antiquity, as it is today, as the repository of many tombs, but it was not a cemetery. Both ancient evidence and modern archaeology establish that the area outside the city walls called the Ceramicus (and in the fourth century so marked by boundary stones) was a multi-use area, notable especially for the prevalence of tombs (Athenian and non-Athenian) and pottery workshops (as well as prostitutes and public gatherings).’

2The general information presented here is based primarily on the following studies, listed in chronological order: Kurtz & Boardman (1971), Morris (1992), D’Agostino (1996), Polignac (1996), Whitley (1996, 2001).

3I do not analyse funerary monuments of children in this book, and I only mention this generic difference between the burial of adults and children as a example of how funerary archaeology codifies age, gender and social class. A very interesting, detailed study about child burials in Athens can be found in Houby-Nielsen (2000), which deals with such questions as age distinctions (categorization of infants, small children and older children); modes of burial and grave goods for children; and the geography of child burial.

4The Kerameikos is not the only Athenian necropolis but has provoked the most interest among researchers, and is a well-established archaeological site. It was already a cemetery in the Archaic Age, and some of the memorials from that time were used in the construction of the walls of Themistocles; in the Classical period it was associated with public funerals for the war dead and from the late fifth century until the end of the fourth century BC, it acquired individual and family gravestones. See in this regard Mega de Andrade (2010). As the author indicates, the Kerameikos was always a ‘public’ place, not only as a demosios but also as a thoroughfare, a place of movement, of daily comings and goings. There is ample bibliography on archaeological aspects of the area of the Kerameikos; as a starting point, see the studies by Karl Kübler, especially Kübler (1976).

5Fundamental for the study of funerary customs at this time is D’Onofrio (1993).

6The notion of ‘formal burial’ was introduced by Morris (1987). Regarding the possibility of gathering certain demographic data from the study of such formal burials, see the well-documented discussion in Whitley (2001: 233–43), precisely in reference to seventh-century BC Attica.

7In this regard, see Whitley (1994).

8D’Onofrio (1993: 145). To identify these nobles, who so lavishly entertained themselves with funerary cults, with the elite of the political class (in contrast to the Athenian polis), see Valdés (2011).

9I will deal with these sculptures in the third section of this chapter.

10Houby-Nielsen (1995).

11Humphreys (1980: 106). Cf. also Houby-Nielsen (1995: 156–9). Morris (1992: 132) situates Mound G burials at 560 BC. There is also a reference to this tumulus in Lougovaya (2004: 14), reminding us that Kübler, who excavated the monument in the 1950s, thought even then of the possibility that it might be the grave of Solon. Knigge (1976) attributes G to the Alcmaeonidae.

12On this cemetery at Agora, see Immerwahr (1973), Bradeen (1974) and Papadopoulos (1996).

13D’Agostino (1996: 457–8). However, the extension of the city walls, and the precise limits of the expression intra muros, is the object of debate. See Young (1951), and more recently, Winter (1982).

14On the reuse of stelai in the Themistoclean wall, see Keesling (1999: 512–18), where the author speculates on the possibility that some cases were examples of processes of damnatio memoriae.

15Based on Thuc. 2.34.1–5 (τιθέασιν οὖν ἐς τὸ δημόσιον σῆμα, ὅ ἐστιν ἐπὶ τοῦ καλλίστου προαστείου τῆς πόλεως, καὶ αἰεὶ ἐν αὐτῷ θάπτουσι τοὺς ἐκ τῶν πολέμων, πλήν γε τοὺς ἐν Μαραθῶνι), the idea has been established of the Demosion Sema as a national cemetery reserved for honoured Athenian war dead. Patterson has questioned this identification and she argues that the concept of an Athenian national cemetery is a ‘modern invention’, Patterson (2006: 55): ‘it seems best to keep demosion sema just what it is – Thucydides’ own idiosyncratic term, perhaps meant to evoke a heroic or poetic model, for the public (paid for with public funds) tomb of the war dead’. Arrington refers to this place as a public cemetery and calls it the demosion sema, ‘even though it was used for other purposes in addition to burials at public expense’ (2010: 500, n.4). See Arrington (2015).

16Loraux (1981), Arrington (2015). On public monuments for war dead, not included in my study, see Tentori Montalto (2017).

17Arrington (2010: 529).

18Or Leokoriou Gate. See Arrington (2010: 500, n. 5).

19Houby-Nielsen (1996, 2000).

20The displacement of commemorative monuments from the private to the public sphere is not the only explanation for the gap in funerary monuments in Athens. See Keesling (2005: 396 n. 5). Keesling also mentions a sumptuary law dated after Solon’s reforms (see below), the dismantling of Archaic tombs for reuse in the Themistoclean city wall, and a fifth-century culture of restraint in public display.

21Boardman (1988).

22A detailed study on the use of loutrophoroi can be found in Sabetai (2009). Regarding the appearance of loutrophoroi in the grave offerings, Opferrinnen, we read the following: ‘The occasional inclusion of loutrophoroi in the trenches from the sixth century BC onwards indicates that these vases were considered essential symbols of an unattained ideal status, that of becoming a husband or a wife and founders of a new oikos’ (2009: 299).

23Langdon (2005).

24For example, IG XII, 3 781 (Thera, c. s. 700 BC), where we read: Ἐτεόκληια (fem.).

25Il. 11.371; 13.437; 17.434; 23.331.

26Richter (1961).

27Richter (1968, 1970). Another very recent joint study about the korai is Karakasi (2003), with excellent reproductions and a geographically ordered presentation of the material. Regarding the elaborate dress of the korai offered to Athena in the Acropolis and the nudity of the kouroi, see Iriarte (2007).

28With regard to the aristocratic nature of these statues, it should be noted that this can be stated with almost complete certainty for funerary statues. In the case of the votive kouroi and korai, these may also be dedications of banausioi; see Keesling (2003a).

29Whitley (2001: 219).

30On this matter, see D’Onofrio (1988). Along these same lines, Bruss (2005: 39) indicates that the funerary epigrams that we know make no reference at all to the cemetery or funerary complex in which they are located, but they do refer to being ‘along the road’.

31D’Onofrio (1982: 152–7). Ever since the idea of the kouros being a sculpture form that reaches its peak in the aristocratic society of the sixth century BC and declines along with that society, a complete map of Greek geography has been made with reference to the places where kouroi had been found, observing their correspondence to areas of the Aegean where aristocracies were prevalent. A critical presentation of this idea can be found in Whitley (2001: 219–20).

32D’Onofrio (1982: 164): ‘La giovinezza è un attributo della statua ed è anche naturalmente la principale qualifica del kouros epico, ma essa non va considerata come una “categoria analitica”, definibile in base ad una classe d’età fisiologicamente determinata, bensì come una “categoria storica”: in Omero i kouroi sono i giovani rispetto ai gerontes, dove kouroi e gerontes rappresentano insieme il gruppo socialmente attivo degli uomini’.

33Above all, I have followed Boardman (1978: 163ff.), but Richter (1961) continues to be a reference volume.

34Athens, Kerameikos, c. 540 BC, reproduced and discussed in Richter (1961: fig. 92).

35Thucydides I 93.2.

36National Museum of Athens, n. 29, c. 510 BC, reproduced in Richter (1961), figs. 155–8 and 180 for different details of the stele; figs. 211–12 for the inscriptions that indicate the name of the warrior Aristion and of the artist Aristocles, with commentary by M. Guarducci.

37Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York (n. 11.185) and Museum of Berlin (n. 1531), c. 540–530 BC. I will discuss this stele later, and the possibility that it belonged to the family of the Alcmaeonids. Appearing under the title of ‘Stele of the Alcmaeonids’, with commentary, see Bianchi Bandinelli & Paribeni (1976, fig. 308). Reproduced and discussed in Richter (1961), figs. 96–109 and 190 for the stele, fig. 204 for the inscription.

38Fragment of the Anavyssos stele, Attica (National Museum of Athens, n. 4472), c. 530 BC. Found in 1958.

39CEG 89 (= GVI 1600), c. 430–420 BC. Museum of the Kerameikos. See Richter (1961), n. 59, figs. 151–3.

40Boardman (1985 (1st ed.): 68ff).

41Acarnania, c. 460 BC. National Museum of Athens, n. 735.

42Staatliche Museum of Berlin, n. 1482, c. 460–450 BC.

43Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York, n. 27.45, c. 450 BC.

44Archaeological Museum of Icaria, c. 470–460 BC. Holtzmann (2010) considers it an exceptional work, comparable in Attica only to the Damasistrata stele, one century later.

45Louvre, Paris, n. 701, c. 470–460 BC. To be discussed in the chapter ‘Immortal remembrance of friends’.

46D’Onofrio (1982: 163–8) and Loraux (1975: 3–5).

47This aspect, which I will not address here, is analysed by Kosmopoulou (2001). Stelai from the fourth century BC are analysed, almost none of them in verse, indicating the professions of wet nurse, priestess, midwife and lanifica.

48Especially Solon 21, 1 and 5–7. See Manfredini & Piccirilli (1977). The texts on Solon’s laws are translated and discussed in Blok (2006). See also Leâo & Rhodes (2015). Also worthy of consultation is Garland (1989). Both studies analyse Attic funerary laws, but also the laws of other parts of Hellas. Morris (1992–3) is rather sceptical about any information of archaeological interest that might be drawn from our limited knowledge of the funerary law.

49The evidence concerning Epimenides can be consulted, with translation and commentary, in Colli (1978). Also see García Gual (1989) for a general, very clear introduction to this Cretan figure whom Diogenes Laertius and Plutarch include in the list of the ‘sages’. For more material of interest concerning this wise purifier, who slept for decades in the cave of Zeus, see Pòrtulas (1993–5). I will not cite the extensive bibliography regarding this important sage-shaman, but only that which relates to his time in Athens and his relationship with Solon, for example, Federico (2002) and Pòrtulas (2002).

50Plutarch, Solon 12, 8. About the destabilizing role of female lamentations in the funerary ritual – keeping the memory alive and instigating revenge – see Iriarte & González (2008: 209–27).

51Garland (1989: 4).

52D’Onofrio (1993: 167).

53This idea is developed in Blok (2006).

54Proximity to the corpse increased the risk of contamination, and the women received more exposure than the men, simply because they were women. In the words of Blok, they were already ‘structurally susceptible to pollution’ (2006: 232).

55The order for men and women to walk separately in the cortege is attributed to Solon in Pseudo-Demosthenes 43.62: βαδίζειν δὲ τοὺς ἄνδρας πρόσθεν, ὅταν ἐκφέρωνται, τὰς δὲ γυναῖκας ὄπισθεν, ‘that men should walk ahead in the conveyance of the corpse, and the women behind’.

56Having said this, there is no intent to minimize the political implications of these funerary practices. A clear description is offered in the final words of Valdés (2011: 65): ‘Meals held around the dead in their graves, constituting in this period a ‘public’ act and form of self-assertion for the aristoi, especially for the Eupatridae as opposed to the demos, manifest both the aristocratic cohesion represented by the banquet, and their tendency toward heroization. These realities legitimated their exclusive rule in the aristocratic polis of Athens (depriving the demos of their time, in Solon’s words), at a time when citizens (astoi) are the ones who have the prerogative to hold burials and celebrate banquets, both practices coming together in privileged fashion at funerals.’

57Iriarte & González (2008: 209–27), with bibliography.

58Seaford (1994: 83).

59Cicero, De Legibus II. 64.

60Plutarch, Solon 31, 3; see Richter (1945). There are also authors who attribute the reform to Themistocles, vid. the commentary on Cicero’s text in Dyck (2004), and Blok (2006: 240–3), with bibliography.

61For the history of Greek funerary monuments in Attica, despite the many years since its publication, Friis Johansen (1951) continues to be indispensable.

2  The literary form: tears of Simonides … and of Pindar

1A detailed catalogue of literary references can be found in Di Tillio (1969). Also, Gentili (1968) offers an appendix with a non-exhaustive series of loci similes between the elegiac inscriptions (burial and dedicatory) from the seventh to the fifth centuries BC, and the Archaic and Classical elegy. See also Ecker (1990).

2Wallace (1970: 100) affirms that the assertive and elegant nature of private funerary epigrams is never so apparent as in the Athens of the Peisistratids. Cf. also Day (1989: 17). The earliest extant metrical inscriptions are hexametric (Corinth and Corcyra), while the increased corpus of sixth-century epigrams is primarily elegiac and centred in Athens: see Derderian (2001: 70).

3In a technical sense, the threnos was a lyric literary genre whose purpose was lamentation for the dead. However, in tragedy it already had the additional sense of ‘lamentation’ in general.

4Bowie (1986: 24–6).

5Aloni (2009: 168).

6The reference work on this genre is Loraux (1993).

7Of course, private metrical epitaphs continued to exist in the Hellenistic and Imperial eras, but this study is limited to Archaic and Classical Greece.

8Loraux (1993: 45).

9Loraux (1993: 77–8).

10Loraux (1993: 78).

11Vid. later in this chapter, on the idea of ‘aristocracy’.

12In relation to the classification of different literary genres, see Harvey (1955). On origins of threnody see Derderian (2001).

13Harvey (1955: 170–1).

14Archilochus, Fr. 13 W. Translation by Podlecki (1984).

15Specifically, the distich formed by verses 10–11 of the Fr. 9W. Actually, there is a series of fragments from Archilochus, 8–13W, known as the ‘Elegy of the Shipwreck’, but it is not clear whether all of these form part of the same poem. Some authors defend the independence of Fr. 13W that I have reproduced above.

16Gentili (1968: 59). More bibliography and more arguments for and against the threnodic nature of this elegy in Cannatà Fera (1990: 20–2).

17On this poem, see Cannatà Fera (1988: 62–9), where, with regard to the contrast between the initial statement on not reproaching lamentation, and the final turn that encourages us to reject it, we are reminded of the polarity principle so common in Greek thought, examined in depth in the classical work by Lloyd (1966).

18See CEG 143, discussed in chapter 7.

19See the detailed commentary in Cannatà Fera (1990: 23ff.).

20Detienne (2006: 190ff.).

21See Bravi (2006). A recent, complete study on Simonides can be found in Nazaré Ferreira (2013).

22Simonides, 531 PMG. Trans. Bowra (1961). In 7–8 he follows the word order suggested by Wilamowitz: κοσμὸν ὁ Σπάρτας.

23Stehle (1996).

24Boedeker (1996).

25Johnston (1999: 20–1). On authenticity of this epigram, see Nazaré Ferreira (2013: 286).

26On patronage in the case of Pindar, see Kurke (1991) and Hornblower & Morgan (2007).

27Robbins (1997: 257).

28Cannatà Fera (1990: 28).

29Cannatà Fera (1990: 35–6).

30I will discuss this in the chapter ‘Immortal Remembrance of Friends’.

31Derderian (2001: 117–27).

32Gentili (1989: 153).

33Nagy (1996).

34The ‘male’ clarification is from the author himself.

35The same idea is found in an interesting article on the monument to the fallen in the battle of Marathon, Whitley (1994: 230): ‘There were simply no other symbolic forms available to the new democracy other than those that evoked aristocratic, and heroic, prowess. Aristocratic forms had to be ‘collectivized’, appropriated by the community as a whole for public, i.e., state, purposes.’ See also Keesling (2010).

36After having reviewed the ductility of ‘aristocratic values’, suitable for characterizing, as needed, any of the three forms of government known to the Greeks: oligarchy, democracy, tyranny.

37Nagy (1996: 591–2).

38Donlan (1999: 96).

39Donlan (1999: 58).

40Duplouy (2006: 22). See also Kurke (1991) on the ideology of megaloprepeia.

41Pindar, Isthmian 1, 67–8. Trans. Sandys (1978).

42Pindar, Nemean 1, 31–2. Trans. Sandys (1978).

43Plutarch, Cimon 10. 5.

44See below, chapter 3.

45The most widespread term for referring to the noble is ἀγαθός, but also ἐσθλός, καλὸς κἀγαθός, χρηστός or σπουδαῖος, Aristotle’s preference.

46CEG 68 (= GVI 1223).

47Gentili (1968: 55).

48For this formal reason for the domination of elegiac form in epigram see Aloni (2009: 170).

49CEG 27 (= GVI 1224). See chapter 3.

50On the ambiguities of this lamentation, see González González (2010a: 160–2).

51Euripides, Troades 1190–1.

52Regarding reading and the first Greek epitaphs, see Svenbro (1988), especially chapters 2, ‘J’écris, donc je m’efface. L’énonciation dans les premières inscriptions grecques,’ and 3, ‘Le lecteur et la voix lectrice. Statut instrumental de la lecture à haute voix.’ It seems clear that the epitaphs were intended to be read and in this case, we do not consider the open debate regarding votive inscriptions. See Day (2010), Livingstone (2011).

53Day (2007: 32).

54Angelos Chaniotis addresses emotions in Greek epigraphy in two recent studies: (2012a, 2012b).

55Chaniotis, in the studies cited in the previous footnote, scarcely addresses the study of Archaic and Classical epitaphs. His analysis is based on ample epigraphic documentation (decrees, votive inscriptions, funerary inscriptions), most of which is from the Hellenistic or Imperial era.

56The statistics can be consulted in Lougovaya (2004: 18), Archaic age, and (2004: 144), Classical age, and in Meyer (1993: 109).

3  Phrasikleia, forever a maiden. Kroisos, whom raging Ares destroyed

1See the statistics in Humphreys (1980: 104).

2Baumbach, Petrovic, Petrovic (2010).

3Schmitz (2010a).

4Sourvinou-Inwood (1995: 144). In any event, while we have noted and recognized the different origins of these terms, it is not always possible to detect differences in their use. Simondon (1982: 85) indicates that ‘alors que σῆμα désigne le tombeau sans rapport avec le mort, μνῆμα n’a de signification que par rapport à lui’, but she considers that this difference is only evident when both terms are used in the same epigram.

5Vernant (1990: 17–82, especially 57–8).

6Evidently, I am referring here to heroization in very general terms, always with reference of the Homeric epic. I will not address the problem of the hero cult, or even the definition of the term ‘hero’, both of which are very complex questions on which there is already an abundance of specific literature. See Antonaccio (1994), Ekroth (2002), Bremmer (2006), Albersmeier (2009).

7Hermary (2006). For information on the measurement of these kouroi and korai, see Kaltsas (2002a). Regarding the kouros and the Colossus, see also Ducat (1976). This same author offers data on the number of funerary korai and kouroi: four funerary korai (three from Attica) from a total of seventy-seven and twenty-seven funerary kouroi (twenty-two from Attica) from a total of 104. The data offered by Ducat is in turn taken from the well-known monographs by Richter (1968, 1970). The information provided by Ducat helps us see the small proportion of funerary statues in comparison to votive statues; along these lines, the catalogue presented by D’Onofrio (1982) is more up to date but does not substantially change the facts. This author catalogues thirty examples of funerary kouroi and seven korai. See now Meyer & Brüggemann (2007).

8This was articulated by Rohde (1925: 43), a pioneer in studies on the Greek idea of the soul.

9See Sourvinou-Inwood (1988: 28–30, 51–7).

10Friis Johansen (1951: 109–10). This same fact is pointed out by D’Onofrio (1988: 95): by the end of the seventh century, monumental stelai and statues share the characteristic of no longer being placed over the mound, but nearby, in a location clearly visible from the road, making them privileged objects of ostentation, part of the funerary space of a group, ‘secondo un modello che gli esempi precedentemente illustrati di Vourva, di Phoinikia, di Merenda, di Velanideza, illustrano con particolare evidenza’.

11See note 7. Of the four funerary korai noted by Ducat, two are only fragments: in one case we have the feet of a marble statue, found in the Attic deme of Vourva, with a fragmentary inscription (CEG 18), c. 550–540 BC (Richter 91) – the inscription is composed of an elegiac couplet and the statue is the work of Phaidimos; see the epigraphic commentary by M. Guarducci in Richter (1961); the other example is a marble torso, found in Moscato, Attica, in the first third of the sixth century (Richter 40). The kore of Berlin (Richter 42) is the only complete example of funerary kore that can be cited apart from Phrasikleia. This statue comes from Attica and is dated c. 570–560 BC. It presents very similar iconographic elements to those of Phrasikleia: a crown decorated with meanders and lotus flowers, a necklace with pomegranates, one pomegranate in her right hand. See the reproduction and commentary in Boardman (1978: 73, fig. 108). Cf. also Sourvinou-Inwood (1995: 250): ‘the “Berlin Goddess” and Phrasikleia may be seen as iconographical articulations of the metaphor that eventually crystallized into the “bride of Hades” metaphor’. Note 111 indicates that this list of korai had been updated in D’Onofrio (1982); the author distinguishes between examples where the place of origin is known, and their funerary use has been demonstrated, and others where this information is uncertain. In the former category there are three examples already cited by Ducat (the fragments of Richter 91 and 40 and the Phrasikleia statue) and she adds another fragment, a head found in Merenda, in a burial area from the Geometric and Archaic periods (now in the Brauron Archaeological Museum 1265). In the latter category is the kore of Berlin, already known to Ducat, and two others: Archaeological Museum of Piraeus 2530, from the first quarter of the sixth century BC, and the Metropolitan Museum of Art 07.286.110, 535–500 BC. Karakasi (2003) does not include any new discoveries in terms of funerary korai.

12Boardman (1978: 72–3).

13CEG 24 (=GVI 68); Attica, c. 540 BC, Epigraphical Museum, n. 13383, for the inscription; National Museum of Athens, n. 4889, for the kore.

14Jeffery (1990: 73). Although this is the communis opinio on the matter, see Keesling (2003b), who criticizes the assumption that any writing that ‘looks like’ stoichedon is stoichedon.

15Svenbro (1988: 25) and Benveniste (1969: 43–50). Svenbro also points to the parallelism of this epitaph expression with verses from Sophocles, Antigone, 917–18: οὔτε τοῦ γάμου μέρος λαχοῦσαν.

16They need not be exclusive references, as understood in Svenbro (1988), who is inclined to the former.

17Chantraine (1968–80, s.v. κόρος): ‘fille, jeune fille, assez souvent équivalent de θυγάτηρ, rarement équivalent de παρθένος; peut, d’ailleurs se dire de une jeune femme’.

18At earlier dates, this image is documented in very few cases, and almost never so explicitly. Out of Hansen’s large volume, CEG, only six epitaphs of maidens have images that associate death and marriage, all of them from the fourth century BC.

19Svenbro (1988: 13–32). Regarding the Alcmaeonids’ interest in art and the question of repeated names, see Lévêque & Vidal-Naquet (1964: 83–9, and 56, respectively).

20Jeffery (1976: 185); Rigdway (1977: 279).

21Brinkmann, Koch-Brinkmann, Piening (2010: 189–91).

22At least in the pre-democratic city. See Vernant (2004: 62): ‘[…] le jeu des échanges matrimoniaux obéissant à des règles très souples et très libres dans le cadre d’un commerce social entre grandes familles nobles, commerce au sein duquel l’échange des femmes apparaît comme un moyen de créer des liens de solidarité ou de dépendence, d’acquérir du prestige, de confirmer une vassalité ’ .

23Posidippus A–B 50, 55. See González González (2010b).

24Osborne (1994: 92). The author also indicates that the inscriptions on votive korai quite often include the term agalma (offering, adornment), nearly absent in inscriptions for the kouroi.

25Stieber (2004). This author understands the necklace to be made of lotus, not pomegranates as Sourvinou-Inwood believes, and she insists strongly on the symbology of the lotus, image of life and of death, appearing in the statue ‘in bud, in full flower, and in fruit’, in representation of the three states of existence.

26Sourvinou-Inwood (1995: 249–52). Also Vernant (1990), includes a mention of Phrasikleia at the end of his study: ‘Partie pour l’Hadès, comme Corè, fille de Déméter, avant d’avoir connu l’hymen, Phrasikleia s’est trouvée fixée par la mort dans sa condition de vierge. Le privilège que les dieux lui offrent et qu’exprime son image funéraire c’est d’être devenue pour toujours, dans son statut de défunte, cette corè virginale qui la figure sur sa tombe.’

27phrasi- would be an old dative plural of φρήν, while -kleía would come from κλέος.

28Stewart (1997: 115).

29Reilly (1989).

30Brinkmann, Koch-Brinkmann & Piening (2010).

31SEG 57.799. End of the sixth century BC. First publication in 2007. Two joining fragments of a cornice of white marble belonging to a funerary monument.

32On this expression see Bremmer (2014: 188).

33The study of reference for this image in tragedy is Rehm (1994).

34Kouros found in 1936 in Anavyssos, Attica, now in the National Museum of Athens, n. 3851. Regarding this image, see Philadelpheus (1935–6), and Stieber (2005–6). This kouros and the Kroisos inscription are exhibited together in the National Museum of Athens, and the literature on the subject contains frequent references to the ‘Kroisos kouros’. However, it is not absolutely certain that the base block belonged to this particular kouros. Other interpretations are given in Neer (2010: 24–7).

35CEG 27 (= GVI 1224).

36CEG 10 (public epitaph for the Athenians fallen in Potidaea) and CEG 112.

37Derderian (2001: 97). Epigrams dedicated to warriors use ὄλεσθαι, both in transitive and intransitive forms; this particular transitive use, with Ares as subject, is the primary usage.

38Tueller (2010: 42).

39Tueller (2010: 46).

40Il. 5. 30, 35, 355, 454, 507, 830, 904; 15. 127, 142; 21. 406; 24. 498. Regarding the use of formulas of this type in funerary poetry, see Di Tillio (1969).

41Tyrtaeus, Fr. 12 W.

42Vernant (1990: 57).

43Loraux (1993: 75).

44Stieber (2005–6: 4).

45Richter (1961: 67).

46D’Onofrio (1982: 168).

47Eliot (1967). Also, Anderson (2000) considers this kouros and the accompanying epigram as evidence for the presence of Alcmaeonids in modern Anavyssos, in southern Attica, between 540 and 530 BC. But not everyone agrees with this lapse of time between the death of the youth and construction of the statue; see Stieber (2005–6: 1).

48Young (1983: 40).

49CEG 13 (= GVI 1226), c. 575–550 BC, Attica, Epigraphical Museum, n. 10650.

50Loraux (1993: 67), expressly referring in a note to the epitaphs of Kroisos and Tetichos, affirms the following: ‘Discours indissolublement militaire et politique, l’oraison funèbre ne reconnaît pour siennes que les valeurs masculines et refuse du même mouvement le thrênos et les appels à la pitié si fréquents dans les épitaphes aristocratiques célébrant un guerrier.’ Guarducci (1987: 158) points to the suggestive Thucydidean echo that can be discovered in the last verse of the epigram dedicated to Tetichos: the idea that after mourning before the tomb, one should resume his daily labours, brings to mind the words of Thucydides (II, 46, 2) in Pericles’ funerary oration for the Athenians fallen in the first year of the Peloponnesian War (νῦν δὲ ἀπολοφυράμενοι ὃν προσήκει ἑκάστῳ ἀποχωρεῖτε). This political reading is accepted by Loraux (1993: 367).

51Ferrandini & Cagnazzi (2010).

52Gernet (1968: 339, chapter ‘Les nobles dans la Grèce antique’, originally published in 1938): ‘Les nobles sont des gens de la ville: dans l’ancienne Athènes, le mot ἀστοί, “citadins”, est synonyme d’eupatrides.’

53Aristotle, Politica 1278a. Regarding these questions, see Chantraine (1968–80, s.v. ἄστυ).

54CEG 112 (= GVI 321), Boeotia, c. 500 BC. There are only two other appearances of the term ἀστός in the funerary epitaphs collected by Hansen (CEG 123 and 172), both of them from the 5th century BC, and neither from Attica.

55Day (1989: 19).

56Tueller (2010: 51–4).

57Vegetti (1989: 16–17).

58CEG 25 (= GVI 148), with different proposed reconstructions. The stele is in the New York Metropolitan Museum (n. 11. 185), although a certain fragment is also preserved in the Altes Museum of Berlin (n. 1531).

59Richter (1961: 29): ‘The excellent preservation of the majority of the fragments points to an early burial […] Apparently therefore, the monument was broken up not long after it was erected, and for this the exile of the Alkmeonids after the battle of Pallene (dated between 541–538 BC) would supply a plausible reason; for, according to Isokrates (XVI, 21), not only were the houses of the Alkmeonids destroyed, but their graves were dug up. Furthermore, the exceptional splendour of the monument suggests its erection by a wealthy, prominent family – either by the Alkmeonids or some other.’ In the epigraphic appendix to the Richter work, by Guarducci, credibility is given to reconstruction of the name Megacles. Hansen rejected the restauration Me[gacles]. See Keesling (1999: 513).

60Friis Johansen (1951: 96–8), Boardman (1978: fig. 232). See also Richter (1961: no. 37), with epigraphic commentary by Guarducci. Shapiro (1993) also discusses this stele and the relative scarcity of funerary monuments dedicated to women.

61Sahin (1992).

62CEG 26 (= GVI 74). Brauron Museum, BE 838. See epigraphic commentary by Guarducci, in Richter (1961: 157–8).

63In Tsagalis (2008), accurate statistical graphs show us that in the Attic epitaphs of the fourth century BC, only on very rare occasions are the dead mourned as brothers or sisters.

64Originally published by Sigalas & Matthaiou (1992–8). Two dactylic hexameters. Thera, c. 550 BC. It is reproduced in SEG 48.1067, but with an error at the beginning of the second verse, where it reads Δαμόκλεια’.

65See the following chapter, CEG 174, ‘How to deprive the year of its spring’. Regarding the construction of this proper name, see Sigalas & Matthaiou (1992–8: 395–6).

66Johansen (1951: 109).

67CEG 37 (= GVI 58), c. 530 BC, Attica. British Museum, n. 935. It is a very curious piece, described and reproduced in Marshall (1909: 153–4).

68Il. 16. 450–7. Trans. Robert Fagles.

69CEG 40 (= GVI 156). Attica, c. 530–520 BC. Epigraphical Museum, n. 10645. Regarding doubts that arise from the end of the verse, between a final -ς or -ν, see commentary in Hansen ad loc.

70Bicknell (1971).

71Tentori Montalto (2017).

72CEG 14 (= GVI 159), c. 560–550 BC, Attica. New York Metropolitan Museum, n. 16.174.6.

73CEG 18 (= GVI 155).

74CEG 26 (= GVI 74).

75Apollodorus, Bibliotheca III 15.9.

76Jeffery (1990: 62–3).

77Boardman (1978: 74).

78On this question see Jeffery (1990). Also interesting is Wallace (1970: 100): ‘Sculptors rather than mourners, certainly, were sometimes responsible for the composition of the verse itself, as the praises of the sculptor Phaidimos show.’

79The term reappears in a stele recently discovered in Boeotia (see later chapter ‘Immortal remembrance of friends’).

80CEG 32 (= GVI 147), c. 530 BC, Attica. Epigraphical Museum, n. 13314.

81CEG 35 (= GVI 139), c. 530 BC, Attica. Kerameikos Museum.

82Κλέ[[β]]βολος : see Hansen. The first β at the end of the line had been erased, because in the next line, either by error or by incorrect syllable division, β is repeated.

83CEG 41 (= GVI 157), c. 530–520 BC, Attica. Epigraphical Museum, n. 10642.

84CEG 46 (= GVI 154), c. 525–520 BC, Attica.

85CEG 50, c. 510 BC, Attica. Kerameikos Museum, n. I 389.

86For the indicative οἰκτίρο instead of the imperative in CEG 51, see Hansen’s commentary on CEG 471.

87CEG 51, c. 510 BC, Attica. Kerameikos Museum, n. I 327.

88CEG 68 (= GVI 1223), c. 500 BC, Attica. Epigraphical Museum, n. 10641.

89Thus, Nicosia (1992), under the epigraph ‘Malgrado la bellezza’ translates ‘che era bello, eppure è morto’. In the same way, Duplouy (2006: 128): ‘… et pleure celui qui était beau et qui aujourd’hui est mort.’

90Gentili (1968: 75).

91Regarding these artists, in addition to occasional remarks in Jeffery, see Dimartino (2010). Aristocles made both funerary and votive monuments, see Keesling (1999: 523).

92Day (1989: 20).

93Day (1989) dedicates a brief part of his study to the interrelationship of literary and iconographic conventions in funerary monuments, that is, to how epitaph and image reinforce each other. Curiously, he takes the Tetichos epitaph as an example and ‘reconstructs’ what the accompanying monument must have been; by contrast, however, he says nothing of Phrasikleia or Kroisos, presently preserved in their entirety.

4  How to deprive the year of its spring

1Aristotle, Rhetorica 1365a 31: οἷον Περικλῆς τὸν ἐπιτάφιον λέγων, τὴν νεότητα ἐκ τῆς πόλεως ἀνῃρῆσθαι ὥσπερ τὸ ἔαρ ἐκ τοῦ ἐνιαυτοῦ εἰ ἐξαιρεθείη.

2One of the types of Greek ceramic vessels, with a very long neck, used for carrying water in ritual marriage and funeral ceremonies.

3While it is true that the death of children is also untimely death, I have excluded their epitaphs from this study in order to focus on youths, as I explain in the introduction.

4I will refer later to an epitaph from the first half of the fifth century BC, found in Sinope and kept at the Museum of Istanbul, where we find this motif (CEG 174).

5CEG 518 (= GVI 1654). Attica, c. 375–350 BC. National Museum of Athens, n. 3964. Clairmont 13, tab. 7; CAT 1283.

6This expression ‘so that all who pass by may see it’, as well as others that refer to the funerary monument being placed along the road, have to do with the desire of the elite classes to give visibility to their dead, and are customary references in memorials from the Archaic and Classical periods. See, among others, D’Onofrio (1988), Bruss (2005: 39), Mega de Andrade (2011).

7More recently, Bruss (2010: 400) expresses himself in similar terms. In his opinion, the correlation between text and epigram is relatively insignificant. As for the appearance of the mirror motif, he states that ‘taken perhaps as characterizing her unmarried state, the mirror may be reflected in the epigram in the second and third lines, where her parents – not a husband – are named’.

8See references in the previous chapter.

9Leader (1997). As for the rest, the premise of her study (that funerary stelai from the late fifth and fourth centuries constitute an important source of information on the ‘visual construction’ of gender in Athens) is perfectly acceptable.

10Beginning, of course, with the introductory volume of the catalogue by Clairmont (1993–5), hereafter, CAT. Another essential work is Bectarte (2006a).

11Hoffmann (2006). A detailed inventory of female figures in funerary monuments according to age, position, attributes, hairstyles and clothing, can be found in Bectarte (2006b).

12Bectarte (2006a). The catalogue starts with the fifth century BC, when this motif makes its first appearance, and ends arbitrarily with the first century BC. To distinguish when we are dealing with a mirror or when it is a spinning wheel, the author follows the criteria set forth by Wasowicz (1989): not to consider the minimal formal unit a mirror but rather a spinning wheel, ‘l’objet rond ou allongé pourvu d’un manche’, which appears in a context of textile work.

13Frontisi-Ducroux (1991: 136).

14In support of this idea, she adds that while the mirror is systematically held by female figures, only once does it appear in a clear toilette context, in an Attic funerary stele where the woman holds the mirror with her left hand while arranging her hair with her right hand (CAT 2291a). We can also add to this catalogue a stele from the Calvet Museum of Avignon, which I will mention later.

15An assumption which we do not find in other scholars who, without making value judgements, limit themselves to indicating the mirror’s cultural value as being ‘female’. For example, Hoffmann (2006: 63), commenting on the Pausimache stele, states that the mirror is ‘un simple objet de toilette qui reflète sa féminité, voire sa coquetterie’.

16Bectarte (2006a: 179–80).

17A popular theme among Greek vase painters between the eighth and fifth centuries BC. See Dietrich (1997: 25), with bibliography.

18CEG 10.6 (= GVI 20).

19CEG 535 (= GVI 1755), c. 350 BC. Marble stele found in Piraeus, now in the Agora Museum I 1114.

20CEG 545.1–2 (= GVI 1757), c. 350 BC. Marble stele found in an unknown location in Athens, now in the Epigraphical Museum, n. 8842.

21CEG 558.2 (= GVI 595), c. 350 BC. Fragment of a marble base found in the Odeon of Herodes Atticus, now in the Epigraphical Museum, n. 9475. Practically, the entire epigram is a reconstruction from Kaibel. Hansen does not totally agree with the reconstruction, but he does accept the appearance of the term σῶμα.

22CEG 548.2–3 (= GVI 1963), c. 350 BC. Marble stele, broken at the bottom and on the left. On the left, a woman, seated, on the right a man, Demetrius, standing. Found in an unknown location, now in the National Museum of Athens, n. 1115. Clairmont tab. 21.42. Once again we are dealing with a reconstruction, in the case of the term σῶμα.

23The examples mentioned here are all that have been documented for the fifth and fourth centuries BC. Bectarte (2006a: 178) mentions three of those addressed here, ‘parmi de nombreuses autres épitaphes comparables’, an excessively optimistic statement if we limit ourselves to the Classical age.

24CEG 611 (= GVI 1781), c. fourth century BC. Marble stele fragment. Found in an unknown location, now in the National Museum of Athens.

25Vegetti (1989: 75ff.). For the concept of soul among the Greeks, which I only touch on here, the works of reference continue to be Rohde (1925) and Bremmer (1983a).

26Regarding the ‘immortal soul’, see supra ‘A note regarding the translations’, in the Introduction.

27This concentration of evidence should not cause us to lose the perspective that out of thousands of stelai produced, the present motif is not especially frequent, as compared to others such as dexiosis.

28I base myself on the previously cited catalogue from Bectarte (2006a), based in turn on CAT, which offers a total of 63 funerary monuments: thirteen in the fifth century BC, twelve in the fourth century, two in the third century, twenty-seven in the second century and nine in the first century BC. Geographically: thirty-eight from eastern Greece, nineteen from Attica, two from Rhenea, one from Rhodes, one from Thrace, one from Boeotia, one from Thessaly. For my study I have excluded the cases (a total of thirteen) that represent decorative mirrors and not a hand mirror. I have also omitted one of the examples from the fifth century BC, CAT 4190 (a funerary lekythos, National Museum of Athens, n. 2584, where four figures are seen). Even though Clairmont’s description speaks of a mirror in the hands of one of the young women represented in the scene, and Bectarte includes it in her catalogue, it is actually quite unclear. Neither the lekythos description in Kaltsas (2002), nor Welsh (1906), who published this piece for the first time, with good reproductions, says anything about a mirror.

29For a more detailed analysis of the stelai studied here, see González González (2013b).

30In the fifth century BC, they are as follows: CAT 1152, 1170, 1188 and 2187; for the fourth century BC, 1283 (Pausimache memorial) and 2209b.

31The following belong to the fifth century BC: 2590, 2670; in the fourth century only one is recorded, 2210.

32CAT 1471.

33CAT 2208.

34CAT 2255.

35CAT 2291a.

36CAT 1305.

37There are four more stelai with a mirror that are not reproduced in CAT, although they are described in the catalogue. Two of them are unclear (CAT 2266a and 2831); a third represents death in childbirth (CAT 3345b); finally, the fourth stele is very fragmentary (CAT 4378).

38CAT 1152, 1170, 1188, 1283, 2209b.

39CAT 2187, 2255.

40CAT 2208.

41CAT 2255.

42CAT 2291a and the one I have added from the Calvet Museum.

43CAT 2590, 2670, 2210. Bectarte (2006a: 171), also proposes a classification by age, but different from what I am using. According to Bectarte, the use of the mirror varies according to the age of the figure that holds it: girls with a mirror are female servants or close relatives of an older deceased female, and the mirror that they are holding is not for themselves but for the adult figure (with the exception of CAT 1471, a stele that Clairmont rightly considers to be Roman, in my opinion); however, the figures that actively use a mirror are adult women.

44Stears (1995) points to the link to sexuality, and more generally speaking, establishes that women appearing in funerary sculpture can be classified into five age groups: the swaddled baby, the little girl, the young unmarried teenager, the mature and married woman, the older, wrinkled and hunched woman.

45Cassimatis (1998).

46Cassimatis (1998: 346).

47Houby-Nielsen (1996: 239–40).

48See a presentation of these assumptions in Leader (1997).

49CEG 174 (= GVI 1960a), c. 475–450 BC. Museum of Istanbul, n. 3868. Reproduced in Clairmont tab. 36.

50In the Clairmont publication, the girl’s name is understood to be Parthenika; in CEG, the publication that I usually draw from, the lower-case letter indicates that the girl is unnamed, designated only by the name of her father. On this occasion, and taking into consideration the epitaph of the girl from Thera (see previous chapter), I prefer the reading Parthenika. The object that the girl is holding in her hand appears to be a mirror, and this is how it is interpreted in Bectarte (2006a), but Clairmont sustains the doubt as to whether it is a mirror, a fan or a flower.

51A discussion of the meter of this epitaph can be found in Clairmont, who observes more theatrical than lyrical elements, and in Fantuzzi (2010: 296, note 24).

52CEG 119 (= GVI 942). Another variant, ἡλικίας ἄνθος, in CEG 701 (= GVI 496), fourth century BC.

53CEG 4 (= GVI 14), from mid-fifth century BC.

54In the corpus published by Hansen, the verb ὄλεσθαι appears here and in the following epitaphs: CEG 4 (public monument to the war dead, 458 BC, Attica: περὶ πατρίδος ὀλέσατε h έβεν), CEG 5 (public monument to the war dead, 447–446 BC, Attica: ὀλέσατ’ ἐμ πολέμοι), CEG 13 (youth fallen in battle, c. 575–550 BC, Attica: νεαρὰν h έβεν ὀλέσαντα), CEG 27 (base of the statue of a youth, ca. 540–530 BC, Attica: h όν ποτ’ ἐνὶ προμάχοις ὄλεσε θ ô ρος Ἄρες), CEG 47 (Attica, male, the term πόλεμον appears), CEG 51 (epitaph of Smikythos, see chapter 3), CEG 82 (fragmentary epitaph, died for the homeland, c. 450–425 BC), CEG 99 (fragmentary epitaph, the stele represents a rider, and the term μάχηι appears, c. 400 BC, Attica), CEG 117 (epitaph for a boy dead before his time, dedicated by his mother, γο ô σα, c. 480–450 BC, Thessaly), CEG 132 (epitaph of Deinias, see chapter 7), CEG 136 (youth fallen in battle, c. 525–500 BC, Argos, ἐν πολέμοι [φθ]ίμενον νεαρὰν h έβαν ὀλέσαντα), CEG 143 (public monument of a man, c. 625–600 BC, Corcyra), CEG 145 (stele, c. 600 BC, Corcyra, seems to speak of a warrior who died near the ships, ὄλεσεν Ἄρες), CEG 154 (elegiac distich for a boy who died young, c. 450–425 BC, Amorgos), CEG 155 (base of a marble statue, perhaps a rider, public monument, 476/5 BC, Paros), CEG 488 (epitaph of warriors, c. fourth century BC, Attica, ὤλεσε θοῦρος Ἄρ‹ης›), CEG 635 (fragmentary epitaph, c. fourth century BC, Boeotia, died for the homeland), CEG 661 (epitaph for a youth fallen in battle, c. 300 BC, Acarnania, ὤλεο πατρώιην), CEG 716 (epitaph of a warrior, represented on the stele, ss. fourth–third century BC, Cyprus, ὤλεσα[ς ἡ]λικία[ν]).

55CEG 732, 400–350 BC. Histria Museum, n. 258.A-B.

56CEG 575 (=GVI 1697). Two fragments of a marble stele with relief, including a small part with two women, one seated and another standing, Attica, c. 350 BC. Epigraphical Museum, n. 9376. Reproduced in Clairmont tab. 28.62.

57CEG 573 (= GVI 1810). Two fragments of a marble stele, c. 350 BC, one in the National Museum of Athens (n. 2054), another in the Museum of Piraeus. Clairmont tab. 10.20, for the National Museum fragment.

58Loraux (1975) refers to CEG 13 (epitaph from Tetichos, that I have already studied) and CEG 136 (stele of a warrior fallen in battle, from Argos).

59She points to CEG 4 and 6 (public epitaphs of Athenians fallen in war, both of them from mid-fifth century BC).

60Loraux (1975: 21).

61Loraux (1975: 24).

62Loraux (1975: 13).

63Loraux (1975: 31): ‘Les épitaphes versifiées du IV^e siècle sont trop rares ou trop mal conservées pour que l’on puisse y suivre le destin de chacun des deux modèles.’ I understand that this refers exclusively to the two models of warrior accolade, focused either on ἀνδραγαθία or on ἀγλὸν ἥβην.

64Vérilhac (1978).

65Prior to this there are very fragmentary texts, such as CEG 43, c. 525 BC and CEG 45, c. 525–500 BC, where we read ἄ h ορος; or CEG 75, c. 500–480 BC, ἀ h όριον ἐς Ἀίδαο.

66CEG 154 (= GVI 889). Amorgos, c. 450–425 BC.

67CEG 67 offers a fragmentary example of ὡραῖον.

68CEG 477, c. 400–390 BC. Found in Piraeus. Museum of Piraeus. The inscription also includes the names of the three persons in the relief: on the left, a man with a beard, Littias, 100 years old; in the centre a girl standing, looking at the old man, Choirine; on the right, a seated woman, Lysistrate.

69CEG 102 (= GVI 1564). Marble stele with a loutrophoros, Kerameikos, in situ, c. 400 BC. Reproduced in Clairmont, tab. 31.79 and CAT 2215a.

70Loraux (1989: 40ff.). The author also indicates the similarity and possible etymological relationship with ὀδῖνες, a term that serves to designate both the pains of childbirth and their consequence, the child.

71Tsagalis (2008: 201–2). Also Vérilhac (1978: 157): ‘Pour les filles, ce thème apparaît dès l’époque archaïque. Pour les garçons, il faut attendre l’époque hellénistique et les exemples restent moins abondants que dans les épigrammes de jeunes filles’. However, even though she does not take into account the iconographical evidence, the author recognizes their importance when giving this warning: ‘Mais souvent, à défaut d’une indication écrite, un loutrophore placé sur la tombe rappelle que le défunt n’a pas connu le mariage.’

72Boardman (1988). The author refers to the study by Kokula (1984).

73CEG 495 (= GVI 1738). Attica, c. fourth century BC. Epigraphical Museum, n. 9476.

74Tsagalis (2008: 155) remarks that it would be quite interesting to know whether it refers to that moving expression, οἰκτρὰ παθὼν. Further on, in a note (199, n. 209), he insists that images on a stele, which do not have to be realistic, are insufficient reason to conclude that the deceased died young. However, the presence of the loutrophoros is decisive in this case.

75CEG 587 (= GVI 1820), c. 350 BC. Marble found in the Kerameikos. Kerameikos Museum.

76A different interpretation is found in Tsagalis (2008: 202). Another possibility, suggested to me by one of the reviewers of this book, is that a distinction is established between the sphere of the house (no matter which house) and the ‘outside’ where the funeral rites and burial occurred.

77Euripides, Troades 605–6.

78Euripides, Supplices 1115–19. The influence of Euripides in this passage is discussed in González González (2013a).

79Benveniste (1969: 216–21).

80CEG 591, c. 350–325 BC, Attica. Marble gravestone, Brauron Museum.

81CEG 599, late in the fourth century BC, Attica. Marble gravestone, Brauron Museum.

82Regarding this epitaph, see Tsagalis (2008: 76): ‘She clearly stands out as an individual who is esteemed not simply as a family member but also as a citizen.’ This statement must be qualified, in the sense that the girl cannot be a citizen.

83CEG 648 (= GVI 1252), c. fourth–third century BC, Thessaly. Ogival stele.

84There is a long list of verbs with a generic value of ‘looking’: ὁρᾶν, ἰδεῖν, λεύσσειν, ἀθρεῖν, θεᾶσθαι, σκέπτεσθαι, ὄσσεσθαι, δενδίλλειν, δέρκεσθαι, παπταίνειν, to which we must add the post-Homeric βλέπτειν and θεωρεῖν.

85Snell (1953, 1–4): ‘To see something bright … It is clear, therefore, that this term too derives its special significance from a mode of seeing; not the function of sight, but the object seen, and the sentiments associated with the sight, give the word its peculiar quality.’ That this meaning continued to be the one intended is demonstrated by the fact that the verb λεύσσειν, out of all the carmina epigraphica collected in Hansen’s publication, appears only in this example and in CEG 595, φάος λεύσων.

86AP VII 507.

87CEG 527 (= GVI 544). Attica, c. 360–350 BC. Fitzwilliam Museum, Cambridge. Reproduced in Clairmont, tab. 17.33 and CAT 2297.

88Tsagalis (2008: 122).

89CEG 593 (= GVI 1889), c. 346/338 BC, Kerameikos, preserved in situ. Reproduced in Clairmont, tab. 31.76 and CAT 2408a.

90See Tsagalis (2008: 122ff.) on Ananke linked with Persephone.

91See Philippart (1930).

92See further discussion in Tsagalis (2008: 126ff.).

93The debate is still open on who might be able to afford an inscribed funerary monument. A well-balanced study of this matter can be found in Oliver (2000).

94See Murray & Rowland (2007: 18–21), Stehle (2001).

5  Immortal remembrance of friends

1In the detailed statistics of Tsagalis (2008: 193) it is noted that the mourning of friends is not reported when the deceased is a woman, and if it is a man, only on one occasion does it mention that parents and friends were left in mourning.

2Konstan (1997: 33). Konstan’s study is convincing in its methodological approach, in considering that a concept of friendship similar to our own did exist in the Greek world, differentiated from the connection between family members or more extensive groups, and also differentiated from the connection between citizens. See the entire discussion on pages 1–23 of the introduction, especially 6–8. See also Konstan (1996).

3The example of Achilles and Patroclus is covered extensively in Konstan (1997). See now also González González (2018: 62–9).

4Poland (1893: 192).

5Athens, Epigraphical Museum, n. 8852.

6CEG 97 (= GVI 1415). Attica, late fifth century BC. Epigraphical Museum, n. 8852.

7Poland (1893: 195–6).

8Chantraine (1968–80, s.v.)

9Benveniste (1969: 343).

10Poland (1893) indicated that Βιότη is feminine, although infrequent, in contrast to the masculine Βιότος; as for Εὔθυλλα, it makes its first appearance here.

11Barrio Vega (1992): ‘En memoria de tu amor dulce y fiel, Biotes, tu compañera Eutila alzó esta estela sobre tu tumba. Con lágrimas te recuerda y se lamenta por tu juventud perdida.’

12Calame (1996: 128).

13Poland (1893: 197 with n. 28).

14Calame (1996: 128).

15Calame (1996: 25).

16Fr. 404.2 (S. Hell.).

17AP VII 710 and 712. There are doubts about attributing these epigrams to Erinna, especially in reference to the second one. Many authors have expressed their well-founded reservations (Pòrtulas: 1984), although there is no lack of those who defend its authenticity (Cavallini: 1991). See also Gutzwiller (1998: 77), who defends that AP VII 710 was an original inscription, similar to the one that we are discussing.

18Thus, for example, CEG 527 (=GVI 544), Attica, c. 360–350 BC, where the loutrophoros on the stele indicates the youth of the deceased, well loved by his parents (μητρὶ φίλον καὶ πατρὶ) and mourned by sisters and friends (κασιγνήταις τε ποθεινὸν πᾶσί τε ἑταίροισιν).

19In one of the epigrams of the New Posidippus, n. A.-B. 53, already in the third century BC we again encounter the ἑταῖραι mourning the death of a friend. In this case as well there are authors who, against all evidence, interpret the subject as a hetaira-courtesan, because of the term ἑταῖραι in the epigram. See Bastianini-Gallazzi (2001); Benedetto (2004: 206).

20CEG 92 (= GVI 78), c. 420–400 BC.

21Clairmont, 146.

22Calame (1996: 128–9).

23Roisman (1983). See also Scott (1981: 12): ‘A companion who is pistos is one who can be relied upon to remain fixed among one’s philoi, friends’, and (1981: 14): ‘pistos is reserved for fixity in relationships between people and therefore it certainly comes within the co-operative sphere. A solid and certain bond between people is naturally of fundamental importance in relationships, and this pistos provides.’ D’Onofrio (1988), insisting on the affinity between epigram and elegy, indicates specifically that the topic of pistos hetairos is an obsession in the poetry of Theognis (vv. 74, 77, 79–82, 415–16, etc). On pistos hetairos in Theognis, see also Konstan (1997: 49–52).

24Observations taken from Iriarte (1990: 46–9), where the author analyses in detail how these pairs of heroes complement and contrast with each other.

25In this case, the extra metrum placement of the proper name is not due to meter difficulties, since Πραξῖνος could fit perfectly in a hexameter; see Fantuzzi & Hunter (2004: 296).

26CEG 532 (= GVI 1786), c. 350 BC, found in Piraeus. Museum of Piraeus. There is an interesting comment with respect to this epitaph in Ginestí Rosell (2012: 146–7), in relation to the adjective πιστός, where she points to its customary use in public epigraphy and in oaths of military alliances. In this case the stele’s location in Piraeus might mean that the person in question is not a politician, but rather a merchant who reached fame for honesty in his practices and transactions.

27Gentili & Catenacci (2007). The authors’ position is solid and well documented, of course, but I believe one of the arguments is too weak and does not contribute to the discussion. The recent papyrus discovery which completes the ‘poem on old age’ is wielded triumphantly in order to ‘demonstrate’ that Sappho was an elderly woman who addresses her poems to girls (παῖδες), and not, as the ‘politically correct’ criticism would have it, to women of her own age. This argument is untenable, if nothing more than because Sappho (in spite of everything!) was a real, historical woman, who like the rest of us, would pass through every stage of life.

28Sontag (1966: 6).

29M. de Montaigne, Essais, Livre I, Chapitre XXVIII: ‘Joint qu’à dire vrai la suffisance ordinaire des femmes n’est pas pour répondre à cette conférence et communication nourrice de cette sainte couture: ni leur âme ne semble assez ferme pour soutenir l’étreinte d’un nœud si pressé et si durable (…) Mais ce sexe par nul exemple n’y est encore pu arriver, et par le commun consentement des écoles anciennes en est rejeté.’ Although it seems that Montaigne changed his mind after meeting Marie de Gournay, these words form part of Western literary tradition.

30Pharsalos, Thessaly, c. 470–460. Acquired by the Louvre in 1863 and catalogued in this museum as n. 701.

31Rabinowitz (2002).

32Younger (2002: 188ff.). See Koch-Harnack (1989) for the erotic nature of the lotus. As for Boardman (1985: 68), the only comment he makes about this image is that it is mysterious. Some have also identified the two figures as Demeter and Persephone.

33Younger (2002: 188ff.). This idea does not contradict the common doctrine about dexiosis as posed by Friis Johansen (1951). Nevertheless, identifying the figures on this stele as Demeter and Persephone remains a possibility, since these two female characters are typically and distinctively represented as virtually indistinguishable doubles (see Foley 1994: 118).

34Younger (2002: 189 and note 93, with bibliography).

35Frontisi-Ducroux (1998: 209).

36Bradeen (1974: n. 215). Previously published by Meritt (1960: 70–1): ‘Euthylla is known as a name from the tombstone of Biote of the late fifth century (I.G., II², 10954). She and the Euthylla of the present text (the name is rare) may have been identical’.

37Another, new document can be added which was published more than a decade later, in 1973: the Gravestone of Teisikles and Euthylla, 400–350 BC. (SEG 29.207).

38Lougovaya (2004: 59) suggests a date rather in the early fifth century.

39Andreiomenou (2006: 50) indicates that the sculptor Philergos, whose signature appears on other Athenian works, is linked to the workshop of Endoios, to which Aristocles also belonged.

40In fact, it is ‘imperfect’ stoichedon. See Keesling (2003b).

41SEG 49.505. Archaeological Museum of Thebes, inv. 28200. The stele was discovered by A. Andreiomenou. After a brief advance in 1992, the discovery was published in Andreiomenou (1999). This article includes a detailed linguistic commentary on the inscription and an analysis of the iconographic aspects of the stele, which is reproduced only in part. See also Cassio (2007). On this stele, see recently Estrin (2016).

42Regarding the reading of Philorgos as a Boeotian adaptation of Philergos, see Cassio (2007: 10–11).

43Despite the fact that the stele was found near Thebes, I do not agree with Andreiomenou’s suggestion that it may be related to the famous Sacred Band, active in Boeotia until the battle of Chaironeia (Andreiomenou 1999: 108ff.). On the existence of this elite corps, one must also consult Rodrigues (2009).

44Cassio (2007: 5). The same article mentions the discovery (announced as an imminent publication from Mario Lombardo) of a mirror with a non-metric inscription from the late sixth century BC, found in a tomb in Metaponto, a gift from one woman to another. The inscription ends with the words μνᾶμα φιλεμοσύνας: Μακώνιον ἔδ ô κε Χσενοτίμαι δ ô ρον, μνᾶμα φιλεμοσύνας. In our corpus of metrical epitaphs, there is only one other appearance of this term, in a sepulchral inscription from a father to his two sons, CEG 32, already discussed earlier (see Chapter 3). A funerary inscription from Skiathos, c. 500–475 BC, the oldest one from this island to the north of Euboea, published in 1998, also ends its second verse with the expression μνῆμα φιλημοσύνης (SEG 48.1170): τῶ] ε Λυοφρο[ί]δηι Πελυεσ(σ)ίω [ἐ]νθάδ’ ἐθηκεν / [.]εύκων τῶι Σαμ[ίω]ι μνῆμα φιλημοσύνης. There are doubts about the name of the dedicant and the deceased, but it is certain that they were not related, see Johnston (1998).

45Dettori (2010, 2017).

46Dettori (2010: 121).

47Andreiomenou (1999: 90; 2006: 46).

48AP VII 509. Andreiomenou (1999: 92). For Cassio (2007: 6), this is ‘probabilmente l’unico vero parallelo esistente’.

49Andreiomenou (2006: 46).

50Tsagalis (2008: 278–80), Estrin (2016: 195).

51Kéi (2007) notes the erotic function of the flower in both heterosexual and homosexual exchanges.

52For the specific case of Attica in the Archaic age, see D’Onofrio (1998).

53She is also referred to in Andreiomenou (1999: 118).

54This similarity was already mentioned in Andreiomenou (1999: 107 n. 208). See Estrin (2016: 209–10).

55Archaeological Museum of Rhodes G 1640. See Kaninia (1997). Also reproduced and discussed in Holtzmann (2010: 200).

56Kaninia (1997: 146–7) remarked on the high quality of this stele, an example of a Rhodes tradition upheld until the late fifth century BC, and which can also be detected in the famous stele of Crito and Timarista (Museum of Rhodes, n. 13638).

57This relationship was highlighted by Kaninia (1997: 148).

58Contra D’Onofrio (1998: 117).

59It appears as an epitaph in CEG, and this is the current communis opinio, but there was no consensus in earlier editions. In Kaibel (1878), it appears as funerary epigram number 19; Hoffmann (1893) includes it as number 407 and, along with Kretschmer (1891), takes it to be votive, and a marker of the place where Gnathias lost his life. It also appears among the votives in Geffcken (1916), as number 61. Whether memorial or votive dedication (the ancient Greeks were not thinking of our future cataloguing concerns when they wrote!), it is a highly interesting piece of evidence.

60For the expression ἱερόν εἰμι τοῦ θεοῦ, ‘I am the consecrated object of god X’, typical of votive inscriptions, see Day (2010: 6–7). However, in the case of the epigram under discussion, considered by some to be votive as we just indicated, note that there is no mention of any divinity as the object of the dedication.

61CEG 47 (= GVI 2042), c. 525–500 BC, Attica, Epigraphical Museum, n. 6730.

62This verse is extra metrum. Kretschmer (1891) recognized the possibility that there might be a reference here to the Attic deme of Ἐροιάδαι; however, he rejects this option in favour of a reading τοῦ Ἡρωιάδου, ‘son of Heroiades’, now commonly accepted, although a few translations (viz. Nicosia 1992) prefer the other option.

63Aristotle, Categories 10b7, says that the adjective to ἀρετή is σπουδαῖος. The σπουδαῖος, ‘serious’ or ‘thoughtful’, person is a sort of moral model in Aristotelian ethics (Jiménez 2014: 373).

64Anacreon, Fr. 2 West. Trans. Bowra (1961).

65Crönert (1910).

66This epigram is noticeably absent in Duplouy (2006: 138–43), where he collects the epitaphs that were commissioned by individuals with no family relation to the deceased. He does mention the recent discovery of the Mnesitheus memorial. No female epitaph is analysed under this epigraph entitled ‘Compagnonnage antique’. See Fantuzzi (2012: 223).

6  Wives and their masters

1Tsagalis (2008: 186 and 193 for the statistical figures).

2CEG 167 (= GVI 97), c. 400 BC. Chios.

3Friis Johansen (1951: 11).

4Clairmont, 117–19 and tab. 19.39 for this funerary monument. CAT 2406.

5CEG 530 (= GVI 1387). Museum of Piraeus, n. 20.

6Lefkowitz (1983: 36) mentions it in arguing that feelings of reciprocal love in marriage are exemplified, at least conventionally, in epitaphs such as this one.

7This has been the preferred aspect in the criticism. See, among others, Walsh (1991), Fantuzzi & Hunter (2004: 310), Tsagalis (2008: 260), Schmitz (2010b: 378–9).

8For some editors, beginning with Kaibel, φιλοῦντα was added at a later time, perhaps a marito (cf. Hansen).

9Daux (1972).

10Thus, Clairmont stands up for these influences, keeping in mind that both Plato and Aristotle are contemporaries of the date proposed for this epitaph, and in Aristotle’s case, similar formulas appear on more than one occasion.

11This parallelism is simply noted, without further comment, in Geffcken (1916), but it is not included in any of the earlier or later publications that I have consulted. Tsagalis (2008: 300) cites Geffcken, but does not join in the analysis or discussion of influences.

12Schear (1984).

13Chantraine (1968–80), s.v. μέλι, indicates anthroponyms derived from μέλι, Μελίτων, f. Μελιτώ, and derived from μέλισσα, Μέλισσα, m. Μέλισσος. Thus I have no certainty of an etymological derivation, but I have evidence that in fact, language speakers make this association. For example, in Hesiod’s Theogony 247, the scholiast writes about Melite, one of the Nereides: Μελίτη: τὸ ἡδύ, ἡδὺ γάρ τισι τὸ πλεῖν, making her name derive from the fact that, for some, sailing is sweet.

14See also Brown (1997: 76), regarding these verses by Semonides: ‘The bee-woman is an ideal wife. Owning to her efforts, the substance of the οἶκος flourishes and is increased, and she produces fine children. To these familiar feminine responsibilities is added a strong bond of affection with her husband.’

15I cannot agree with Nielsen-Bjertrup-Hansen-Rubinstein-Vestergaard (1989: 419), who assert that ‘the epithet χρηστός and the greeting χαῖρε are never used for citizens, very rarely for metics […] Inspection of the fourth-century monuments on which the terms χρηστός or χαῖρε occur seems to corroborate the assumption that they were set up by persons of low status and slender means. There are no aedicula, and only one lekythos. Almost all the inscriptions are cut on simple stelae without any relief or other forms of elaborate decoration.’ The authors use a corpus from 400 BC to 250 AD, although here they refer specifically to the fourth century BC, the same period that gives us the Melite stele.

16See a presentation of these assumptions in Leader (1997). The function of images in a culture is to present and promote desirable social norms, values that exist only imperfectly in real life. Generally speaking, the idea that these figured representations convey mental constructions more than they reflect daily life was defended in a book that became a turning point in studies on iconography and the classical world, AA.VV. (1984); and in the same line, Frontisi-Ducroux (2004).

17Hoffmann (1997: 26). The author adds, ‘L’épouse, assise au centre du groupe familial, paraît exprimer au mieux cette permanence d’un temps qui lie les génerations, sans sortir du cercle du foyer.’

18Amply represented in the Attic funerary stelai.

19A very detailed study of this gesture can be found in Llewellyn-Jones (2003). The author carries out a documented study for the purpose of distinguishing the ritual of ἀνακαλυπτήρια and its related images from another gesture that would indicate the contrary: covering oneself as a sign of αἰδώς.

20Llewellyn-Jones (2003: 103).

21Thucydides II 45.2. Trans. M.R. Hammond, Oxford, 2009.

22CEG 486 (= GVI 822), fourth-century BC Attica, found in Piraeus. Epigraphical Museum, n. 9262.

23CEG 493 (= GVI 891), fourth century BC, Attica. Museum of Piraeus.

24For a somewhat different interpretation, see Tsagalis (2008: 179): ‘The function of the two reference-groups is not the same: the formulaic expression ἐν ἀνθρώποισι denotes the entire society as the framework delineating the bestowal of praise. On the other hand, the second reference group (γυναικῶν) specifies the kind of recognition the deceased has received: passers-by and readers are left to infer that Chairippe’s virtue was based on certain female qualities she possessed.’

25CEG 513 (= GVI 1962), c. 380–370 BC, Attica. Said to be found in Velanideza. Glyptothek Munich, n. 491. Reproduced and discussed in Clairmont, tab. 15 and CAT 2286.

26Fantuzzi (2010: 300).

27On this term, see Janko (1981).

28CEG 536 (= GVI 343), c. 350 BC, Attica. Archaeological Institute of Leipzig. Reproduced and discussed in Clairmont 20.40 and CAT 2434a.

29CEG 573 is also dedicated to a young wife, but I have dealt with it supra.

30CEG 538 (= GVI 863), c. 350 BC, Attica. Museum of Laurion.

31CEG 539 (= GVI 495), c. 350 BC, Attica. National Museum of Athens, n. 722. Reproduced and discussed in Clairmont, tab. 23.

32See commentary in Tsagalis (2008: 191–2).

33CEG 542 (= GVI 596), c. 350 BC, found in Piraeus. Museum of Piraeus, n. 1625. Reproduced and discussed in Clairmont, tab. 27.

34Lamptreios is a demotic (from the Attic deme of Lamptrai) and must be an error in the translation suggested by Tsagalis (2008: 144): ‘daughter of Euphronios, son of Lamptreus’.

35CEG 543 (= GVI 1986), c. 350 BC, found in Piraeus. Museum of Piraeus.

36From the Attic deme Pithos.

37CEG 86 (= GVI 79), c. 430 BC, Attica, National Museum of Athens, n. 1680. Reproduced and discussed in Clairmont 11. tab.6.

38Such a pity that we cannot accept Peek’s reconstruction! It would make a very interesting epitaph, because of the appearance of the term εὐσέβεια, as well as use of the verb ἀνάγω in this context: [σῆμα τόδ’ εὐσεβί]ας ἐπ’ Ἀριστομάχης τάφωι h εμ[αι]· / [εἴθ’ Ἑρμῆς ἀνάγ]οι τὸς ἀγαθὸς φθίμενος.

39A detailed study of piety in ancient Greece and of the vocabulary that describes it can be found in Bruit Zaidman (2001), whose line is followed here. Another study that continues to be quite useful is Rudhardt (1992).

40Bruit Zaidman (2001: 109).

41Bruit Zaidman (2001: 111–12).

42CEG 592, c. 350–317 BC. Hadrian’s Library, n. M 1324.

43Masson (1986: 257), ‘on doit penser au babillage et au bavardage des femmes’. It is fair to add that the same explanation, the allusion to talkativeness, is proposed by the author for the name of young Tetichos, whom I have discussed supra.

44CEG 590 (= GVI 1790), c. 350–325 BC, Attica. Museum of Berlin, n. 741.

45CEG 603 (= GVI 1491), c. fourth century BC, Attica. Lost.

46On this formula, see last chapter.

47See Tsagalis (2008: 129–30).

48CEG 690 (= GVI 893), c. 360–350 BC, Rhodes. Three hexameters and two pentameters for Clairmont; however, Hansen takes the second verse to be a pentameter as in 493.

49In a prior epitaph (CEG 495), I translated δαίμων as ‘divinity’, while here I use the term ‘destiny’. The two meanings are equally common and I believe that the context justifies the choices I have made. In another later appearance of the term (CEG 586), I again translate it as ‘divinity’. In this regard, see Suárez de la Torre (2000), which differentiates the following meanings for the term: a) reference to a specific deity which one does not wish to identify or is unable to do so; b) based on the belief that each individual is assigned a personal or family daimon, it can mean ‘destiny’ or ‘fortune’; c) divine entities that are not necessarily Olympian and are generally negative; d) spirits of heroes, ancestors, and in general, the dead; e) in some philosophical tendencies, ‘soul’.

50An isoteles was a foreign resident in Athens; a special statute allowed him to own property and granted exemption from the foreigner tax.

51CEG 595 (= GVI 1689), c. 335 BC. National Museum of Athens, n. 856.

52In this case, I am not convinced by the translation of this distich found in Ginestí Rosell (2012: 350): ‘També jo vaig néixer d’aquest home, semblant en tot en el privilegi de la vellesa i en preocupació per la pietat.’ It is true that in the first line of the epitaph, we read the name of the deceased, Geris, of his wife Niko and son Theophilus, but I agree with Hansen in taking ὁμοί‹α› to be feminine, not neuter, and that the epitaph refers to the man and wife, both of them dying at an advanced age.

53CEG 662a, c. 350 BC Museum of Kamarina.

54CEG 96 (= GVI 167), fifth century BC. Attica.

55CEG 549 (= GVI 1779), 559 (= GVI 1686), 586 (= GVI 1638), 683 (GVI = 1688a).

56CEG 639.

57CEG 554 (= GVI 931).

58Loraux (1985: 55–7). I believe we can identify the epitaphs indicated by this author as CEG 493, 525 and 670.

59CEG 670 (= GVI 1690), fourth–third centuries, Amorgos.

60About the origin and function of these conditional clauses in the epitaphs, see Tsagalis (2008: 33–9).

61CEG 525 (= GVI 890), c. 360 BC Museum of Piraeus.

62Epitaph of Praxinos, see supra.

63Alcestis 614–16. In this case, overtones of Euripides are not noted by Tsagalis, who is always quite attentive to the influence of tragedy, but by Dover (1974: 68).

64Contra Bruss (2010). Cf. his translation of CEG 670, 399–400.

65CEG 509 (= GVI 894), c. 390–380 BC, Attica. National Museum of Athens, n. 1962. Reproduced and discussed in Clairmont, tab. 18.

66It would also be possible to interpret this in the inverse sense: with his remembrance the tribute of his father Olympichos increases.

67See Wilson (2007). A new reflection to support Wilson’s study is in Tentori Montalto (2009).

68Pausanias IX 12.5–6.

69Wilson (2007: 146) indicates that the exact coincidence of the opening words should be understood as a direct echo of the Pronomos epigram in the Potamon epitaph.

70AP XVI 28.

71Fritz Graf, privatim. West (1992: 366 n. 39) seems to reach the same conclusion implicitly.

72Schol. ad Pind. Pyth.3.137b: Ὀλυμπίχου αὐλητοῦ διδασκομένου ὑπὸ Πινδάρου.

73This is the general opinion, based on the fact that the name is inscribed extra metrum, below the epigram and with larger-sized letters. In Ginestí Rosell (2012: 183) there is a good photographic reproduction of the epitaph, where one may clearly appreciate the difference between the fifth verse and the rest of the epigram.

74CEG 512 (= GVI 1386), c. 390–365 BC, Attica. National Museum of Athens, n. 1016. Reproduced and discussed in Clairmont, tab. 30.

75CEG 586 (= GVI 1638), c. 350 BC Found in Piraeus. Epigraphical Museum of Athens, n. 13164.

76See Hansen for a discussion of the name of the protagonist, which is shown differently in lines 1 and 5.

77CEG 557.4.

7  Powerful enemies: childbirth, the sea

1Loraux (1989: 30).

2As indicated in Catoni (2005: 30), a soldier who had fallen in battle could be represented on a stele slaughtering the enemy, even though the real situation was evidently quite different.

3Burkert (1987: 13).

4See Stewart & Gray (2000: 263): ‘Of course, because the reliefs that carry these two kinds of scenes are the only ones that betray the cause of death, and because both ways of dying can plausibly be understood as the ultimate gender-specific sacrifice on behalf of the polis, it is not unreasonable prima facie to suggest that the Greeks may have associated the two.’

5This is the reading of the codex Seitenstettensis. The codex Laurentianus offers an identical reading except for the error of ἱερῶς instead of ἱερῶν.

6Brulé & Piolot (2002: 486). The details of the textual problem that I present here are taken from this article. The first to challenge Ziegler’s emendation in Plutarch’s text was den Boer (1954: 288–300).

7IG V 1, 713, 714, 1128, 1277. This evidence is not free of difficulties. The numbers 713 and 714 were those that supported the Latte emendation, and are probably from the Hellenistic age; later on 1128 was added, from the Roman era, and 1277, which presents a list of six women, three of whom were said to have died in childbirth. The latter is the most interesting inscription, as it demonstrates that the act of dying in childbirth cannot be the reason for recalling the name of the woman, considering that the names of other women who did not die in this circumstance are also included. Cf. Dillon (2007: 152–3).

8IG V 1, 701–10, 918, 921, 1124, 1125, 1320, 1591? Brulé & Piolot (2002) have added certain recent discoveries to this series, both published and unpublished, that are preserved in the Museum of Sparta. See also Papapostolou (2010: 493–500).

9Brulé & Piolot (2002) review the few instances of objections to the Latte emendation, and the arguments that have been wielded to silence them, always based on the idea that if the reading of the manuscripts is grammatically correct, the Latte proposal facilitates better comprehension of the text.

10Richer (1994).

11IG V 1, 1127, 1129, 1221, 1283, SEG 22.306.

12In a later inscription, from 92 BC, which reports the celebration of certain important and ancient mysteries (Pausanias IV 1. 5–9) in this city of northern Messenia. The most recent edition and commentary on this inscription is Gawlinski (2011). See Bremmer (2014: 86–96) on Andanian Mysteries.

13Brulé & Piolot (2002: 503–4, 513–14).

14Dillon (2007: 157–8). The author indicates that the emendation is not accepted by Ph. E. Legrand (Budé, 1954) but by C. Hude (Oxford, 1927) and H.R. Dietsch (Teubner, 1909). Regarding the life stages of the Spartans, see Tazelaar (1967).

15Gilula (2003: 84).

16Paus. III.21.7; 22.6.

17Le Roy (1961: 232).

18Paus. III 25.4.

19Paus. III 14.2.

20Paus. III 25.3.

21Teuthrone and Pyrrichos are located quite near each other, and Le Roy (1961: 228–31) established a relationship between the ἱεραί of one city and of the other: the sanctuary of Artemis Astrateia and Apollo Amazonius would have ἱεροί and ἱεραί due to influence from the sanctuary of Artemis in Ephesus (in both cases, the Amazons would have had a fundamental role in their founding). The author recognizes that their status is not easy to define, but that the presence of ἱεροί of Artemis in Ephesus is well attested in the inscriptions. He concludes, therefore, that the ἱεροί of Pyrrichos would come from Asia Minor. In the case of Teuthrone, their presence would be justified by its nearness to Pyrrichos.

22Loube (2013). On most occasions, the pertinent information is provided by Pausanias. See also Richer (2007) and Budin (2016) on Artemis and Sparta.

23See Chantraine (1968–80), s.v. λέχεται, λέχος, λόχος.

24See a critique of this expeditious procedure in Loraux (1989: 32ff.).

25Loraux (1989: 36).

26Euripides, Medea 250–1.

27Thus, the study by Catoni (2005) is based on a number of stelai and funerary lekythoi representing women who died in childbirth, where none of these cases are accompanied by inscriptions. Also to be consulted is Stewart & Gray (2000). The catalogue is made up of CAT 2457, 2917, 3282, 3340, 3375, 3422, 3463a, 4425 and 4470.

28CEG 576 (=GVI 548); Attica, c. 350 BC. Epigraphical Museum, n. 10442.

29Loraux (1989: 31).

30CEG 604 (= GVI 837). Attica, c. fourth century BC. Epigraphical Museum, n. 10531.

31Tsagalis (2008: 63–4).

32Cairon (2009).

33Cairon (2009: n. 85 = GVI 1606). White marble stele, Thessaly, mid-third century BC. Volos Museum. This stele is dated to between 200 and 150 BC by Salowey (2012: 251).

34Salowey (2012: 251–2).

35Arvanitopoulos (1909: 97).

36Stewart & Gray (2000: 250–3).

37Cairon (2009: n. 92). Stele with gable, Larissa necropolis, Thessaly, third century BC. As the editor of the text indicates, two forms of the deceased’s name are found in the epitaph, the Thessaly variant in the first line, Πουτάλα, and the form without a dialect marker in the epigram, Πωτάλα. For the translation I have preferred the latter.

38This is the opinion of Cairon (2006: 28). Later on, however, in the edition cited, Cairon (2009), she indicates something that we consider to be crucial, namely, the epitaph conveys that it is not marriage but maternity that converts a woman in γυνή.

39Cairon (2006: 29).

40Cairon rejects this reading, stating that if the epitaph had intended to refer to a terrible haemorrhage, it could have specified this much more clearly.

41Thesis defended in Cairon (2006).

42Brunnsaker (1962). In general, regarding the problem of the relationship between the narrative and the artistic representation, see Snodgrass (1987).

43Georgoudi (1988) draws passages from the Odyssey V 312 (λευγαλέῳ θανατῷ, the ‘wretched death’ that Odysseus comes to fear in one of the storms suffered in his return to Ithaca) and Works and Days 687 (δεινὸν δ’ ἐστὶ θανεῖν μετὰ κύμασιν, ‘it is a terrible thing to die amid the waves’).

44Georgoudi (1988).

45AP VII 291.

46Attic funerary stele from the early fourth century BC. National Museum of Athens, n. 752.

47CEG 132 (= GVI 53), c. 650 BC, Corinth, fragment of a limestone stele. Athens, Epigraphical Museum, n. 11517.

48Jeffery (1947).

49Chantraine (1968–80), and Beekes & van Beek (2010), s.u.

50Odyssey XI 598.

51The honorary title of proxenos could also be given to a citizen who looked after the interests of his homeland and his countrymen in another city (although this does not seem to be the case of the person in this epitaph).

52CEG 143 (= GVI 42), c. 625–600 BC. Round tumulus, Corcyra. Public monument.

53Guarducci (1987: 389–91). She indicates the appearance of the motif -μεν in the names of each brother (Menekrates and Praximenes), an example of the well-known consistency with certain lexemes in the onomastics of Greek families.

54Day (1989: 24–5).

55CEG 166 (= GVI 163), marble stele, fifth century BC. Found at an unknown location on the island of Sikinos (Cyclades).

56Gutzwiller (2010: 233).

57Bruss (2005: 31).

58Bowie (2010: 337).

59The term reappears in Nonnus, Dionysiaca 3.425 and 21. 182, but in a work that belongs to a late period, around the fourth century AD.

60Regarding these questions, see Chantraine (1968–80), s.v. ἀδελφός, and Benveniste, (1969: vol. II, 202–29).

61Bremmer (1983b).

62CEG 664 (= GVI 80), marble stone, c. 400–350 BC. Amorgos.

63Hansen (2002: 24).

64CEG 526 (= GVI 1985), c. 360 BC, Piraeus. Epigraphical Museum, n. 8894.

65I have done the same supra, CEG 543. When I have found the adjective ποθεινός or verbal forms referring to the deceased, in lieu of the noun, πόθος, I have opted for a translation of ‘longing’ (CEG 512, 527, 530, 539, SEG 48.1067).

66In Plato, Cratylus 420a we find this distinction: pothos indicates that it is not a desire for something present but for something far away and absent, ‘hence we now call pothos what was once called himeros when the object of one’s desire was present; having disappeared, it was called pothos’.

67Fantuzzi (2010).

68Fantuzzi (2010: 302–3).

69CEG 544 (= GVI 1250), c. 350 BC, Attica. Museum of Piraeus.

70CEG 722 (= GVI 929), c. fourth century BC, Neapolis (Kavala, Museum n. Λ 124).

8  Rewards for piety … next to Persephone

1CEG 482 (= GVI 1702), early fourth century BC, Attica. British Museum, London, n. 1816 6-10-184.

2Sassi (1981: 34). The author documents and analyses philosophic and literary texts that show affinities with this idea of ‘becoming earth’.

3Sassi (1981: 36), citing Guthrie (1954: 280).

4González González (2014a).

5SEG 38: 440 (1988). Thessaly, fourth century BC.

6Il. 14. 113–14.

7Rohde (1925: 176).

8Johnston (1999). See esp. Chapter 4, ‘Dealing with Those Who Die Violently’.

9See Rudhardt (1992: 34).

10Chantraine (1968–80), s.v. ὅσιος.

11On hosios, see also Bremmer (1994: 3–4): ‘Another key term in this area is hosios. It had a wide range with a basic meaning of “permitted by or pleasing to the gods”. For example, hosios could be contrasted with hieros in order to constrast civic funds with those of the gods, but could also denote purity because pollution is offensive to the gods. More strongly, the notion of “pleasing” included that of “justice”, as is illustrated by a recently published funerary epigram of a certain Sosikrates, who died “not in a hosios way but through an unjust death” ’. A recent study on hosios is Peels (2016), but she does not mention this epitaph.

12See SEG 28: 528 (1978), third century BC, Pherae, Thessaly. Museum of Volos, E 1238. This is the epitaph of Lykophron, analysed in Cairon (2009: 244). See also Avagianou (2002).

13Nussbaum (1972) convincingly analyses and explains the very few Greek texts where a soul is attributed to some divine being.

14Burkert (1985: 272–5).

15Rudhardt (1992: 15).

16CEG 543, 592 and 603, translated and commented supra.

17On ‘orthodoxy’ and ‘orthopraxy’ see Graf & Johnston (2013 (2nd ed.): 178). See Petrovic & Petrovic (2016).

18CEG 571 (= GVI 747), c. 350 BC, Attica, now in the British Museum.

19Undoubtedly there is an error in the English translation offered by Bernabé & Jiménez (2007), where in place of ‘nursemaid’ it says ‘father’: ‘I know that beneath the earth, if there is reward for the good, / the highest privileges await you, father, next to Persephone and Pluto.’

20Tsagalis (2008: 86–134) dedicates an extended chapter to this topic, to which I naturally owe a great deal.

21The ones we have already seen are CEG 513, 575, 592 and 593.

22CEG 75 (= GVI 2064), c. 500–480 BC, Attica, Epigraphical Museum, n. 10253.

23CEG 83 (= GVI 630), c. 446–425 BC, Attica. Two marble fragments, Epigraphical Museum, ns. 8887 and 13357. A detailed analysis of the Pythion epitaph can be found in Ginestí Rosell (2012: 163–6).

24CEG 84 (= GVI 95), c. 440–430 BC, Attica. National Museum of Athens, n. 3845. For the expression ‘house of Hades’, see Bremmer (2014: 188).

25CEG 120 (= GVI 1831), c. 450 BC, Thessaly. Museum of Volos, n. 650.

26CEG 121, c. 450 BC, Thessaly.

27CEG 163 (= GVI 1529), c. 500 BC, Thera.

28CEG 171, c. 475–400 BC, Egypt.

29CEG 178 (= GVI 2070a), c. 440–430 BC. Museum of Verona.

30CEG 490 (= GVI 1754), early fourth century BC, Attica. National Museum of Athens, n. 1115.

31Cf. supra, CEG 591.

32CEG 597, c. 330–320 BC, Attica. National Museum of Athens, n. 833.

33CEG 629 (= GVI 1186), fourth century BC, Euboea.

34CEG 640 (= GVI 170), c. 375–350 BC, Thessaly.

35CEG 645, fourth century BC, Thessaly.

36CEG 661 (= GVI 1458), c. 300 BC. Acarnania.

37CEG 694 (= GVI 1229), fourth century BC, Rhodes.

38CEG 699 (= GVI 111), fourth–third century BC, Rhodes.

39A possible exception would be CEG 640 (= GVI 170), but Hades appears in this epigram as a place for the dead, not as a divinity, and although no negative connotations are expressed, neither is the lexicon of eusebeia used: εἴ τις κἠν Ἀίδαι κειμένωι ἔσστι χάρις.

40CEG 511 (= GVI 1492), c. 390–365 BC, Attica, Epigraphical Museum, n. 10715.

41Tsagalis (2008: 96–8).

42CEG 489 (= GVI 1637), early fourth century BC, Attica. National Museum of Athens, n. 524.

43CEG 510 (= GVI 488), c. 390–365 BC, Attica. Museum of Lyon.

44CEG 513, translated and commented supra.

45CEG 575, translated and commented supra.

46CEG 592, translated and commented supra.

47Recent editions include: Pugliese Carratelli (2001); Bernabé & Jiménez San Cristóbal (2007); Tortorelli Ghidini (2006); Graf & Johnston (2013 (2nd ed.)). See also a joint review of the last two titles in Calame (2008). Of the recent studies on this topic, see Edmonds (2011). In general, Radcliffe Edmonds’s treatment of these documents, which are studied as mythical elaborations of a journey to the afterlife, is quite intriguing and goes beyond a narrow view of them as doctrinal texts. Very importantly, the second edition of Graf & Johnston, published in 2013, includes a new chapter (Appendix 1: ‘Orphism in the twenty-first century’) which clearly and concisely addresses the general problem of defining Orphism and the more specific problem of how the gold tablets relate to Orpheus. Regarding the latter, the dead are explained to be bacchoi or bebaccheumenoi (in line with the thesis defended throughout the essay). There are also convincing arguments against the scepticism about the antiquity (late sixth or early fifth century) of the Orphic-Dionysiac myth which explains and contextualizes the eschatology of the tablets. My references to Graf & Johnston follow the page numbering of the second edition.

48Betz (2011: 103, n. 7) mentions a series of epitaphs from the Werner Peek publication, Griechische Grabgedichte, Berlin, 1960 (208, 210, 250, 255, 266, 278, 287, 304, 306, 450, 451) which, in his opinion, ‘suggest an initiation of the respective person into a cult of mysteries’. Further on, 112, n. 67, he indicates that an encounter with Persephone is mentioned in three of them (208, 210, 266). Of the eleven epitaphs cited by Betz, 208 is from the third century BC, and 210 c. third–second centuries BC; the remaining nine are from our era, as late as the third century AD, and I believe they should not be considered indiscriminately, without giving thought to history and chronology.

49Lamellae from Thurii (6 Thurii 4, 7 Thurii 5), fourth century BC. Museum of Naples. Texts are cited using the numbering from F. Graf & S.I. Johnston.

50Lamella from Hipponium (1 Hipponion), c. 400 BC, Archaeological Museum of Vibo Valentia. Lamellae from Pelina (26 Pelinna a–b), late fourth century BC.

5116 Mylopotamos.

52On the important presence of women in these gold tablets, see Edmonds (2004: 65-69). Also Graf & Johnston ((2013 (2nd ed.)) pay special attention to this issue in their translation. See also Bremmer (2014: 69–70).

53Lamella from Rome (9 Rome), mid-second or third century AD. British Museum.

54Lamella from Thurii (3 Thurii 1), fourth century BC. National Museum of Naples, n. 111463.

55Cairon (2009: n. 70, 224–6).

56Lamella from Thurii (5 Thurii 3), fourth century BC. National Museum of Naples, n. 111625. Translation of Graf & Johnston (2013 (2nd ed.)). See commentary on this line on p. 128.

57CEG 633 (= GVI 1446), fourth century BC?, loco ignoto reperta. Museum of Thebas, n. 142.

58CEG 601 (= GVI 546), fourth century BC?, loco ignoto reperta. Attica, Epigraphical Museum, n. 5370.

59Lamella from Sfakaki, near Rethymno (17 Rethymno 1), between 25 BC and 40 AD. Rethymno Museum.

60Lamella from Eleuthema, on Crete (15 Eleutherna 6), second/first century BC. National Archaeological Museum of Athens.

61Lamella from Pella (31 Pella/Dion 1), late fourth century BC.

62More details in Rossi (1996).

63An idea that I have taken indirectly from P. Themelis, cited in Gavrilaki & Tzifopoulos (1998: 349, note 23).

64As mentioned, the bibliography on this subject is quite vast, but one clear explanation is found in Guarducci (1987: 320–5), regarding the lamellae, their connection to the Orphic religion and its gradual assimilation of elements from the Dionysiac and Eleusinian mysteries; as for affinities with Pythagorean philosophy, the author also indicates that in the lamellae corpus, one place of origin particularly stands out, Magna Graecia, and this ought to be considered in relation to Pythagoras’s presence in that region in the sixth century BC. Among the recent studies, see Graf & Johnston (2013 (2nd ed.)), with very illuminating chapters on the eschatology of the lamellae and on the myth of Dionysus that may be reconstructed as context for the gold tablets. See also Graf (1991, 1993). On Orphism and Orphic-Bacchic Mysteries, see Bremmer (2014: 55–80).

65CEG 579 (= GVI 498), c. 350 BC, Attica, Epigraphical Museum, n. 11113.

66Never out of date is the foundational book by Guthrie (1993, 1952 (2nd ed.)). In its initial pages it already states that ‘The influence of Orphic ideas on the mind of Greece was profound, but it is no mitigation of it to say that there may never have existed any body of people to whom it would have occurred to call themselves an Orphic community.’ It is heartening to let oneself be carried along by books like this: who else but a classical scholar of other times would dare to affirm, with no hint of silliness, that ‘It is no mere frivolity to remind ourselves that in Orpheus we are dealing with someone who has many of the qualities of the Snark and one important point of resemblance to the Cheshire Cat’? But, returning to our era, I again refer the reader to Graf & Johnston (2013 (2nd ed.): 187–94) for clear indications on how to understand ‘Orphism in the Twenty-first Century’.

67Cannatà Fera (1990: 204–9), in a commentary on Fr. 62.

68Edmonds (2004: 48).

69Calame (2008: 300).

70This is not a new idea: ‘The most important divinity of the Gold Tablets undoubtedly is Persephone’: so begins the article by Bremmer (2013).

71Of course, Persephone’s relationship to Orphism would serve to clarify the presence of the goddess on the lamellae and continue to call them Orphic. On Persephone and the Orphic literature, see Rossi (1996: 60), and, along with other titles, Bernabé (2008). On the importance of Persephone in the lamellae and on ascribing the tablets to Dionysiac rather than Orphic cults, see the interesting study by Calame (2011). The enlightening study by Calame focuses on the Derveni Papyrus and the lamellae of Pelinna, documents from the same time and place, providing the necessary solid basis for a proper comparison. On similarities between Dionysian and Eleusinian cults, see also Sfameni Gasparro (2003). On Dionysiac mystery cults and gold lamellae, see Graf & Johnston (2013 (2nd ed.): 137–66), and Bremmer (2014: 74).

72Woysch-Méautis (1982: 81–3).

73Od. 11. 633–5.

74Od. 10.521, 536; 11. 29, 49.

75Pythian 10, 46–8.

76Vernant (1989: 121). Dimakopoulou (2010: 42–3) explores this same idea in more depth.

77Vernant (1965: 74) uses the well-known example of Pandora to indicate that giving life to a stone or clay statue is to endow it with a voice: ἐν δ’ἄρα φωνὴν / θῆκε θεῶν κῆρυξ, ὀνόμηνε δὲ τήνδε γυναῖκα / Πανδώρην (Hesiod, Works and Days 79).

78Pindar, Pythian 12, 6–12, 19–24. Trans. John Sandys, Cambridge Mass., 1978.

79See supra, CEG 587.

80On this matter, reconsider the gold lamellae and the commentaries from the different publications that we have cited above.

81I have addressed the problem of the suitability of the adjective chloros in all these expressions based on an original meaning of ‘wet’ in González González (2005). The underlying opposition is life/death, and one must recall that Hesychius, as late as the fifth century AD, offered χλωρόν τε καὶ βλέποντα as an expression equivalent in meaning to ‘being alive’. For a more detailed study on this adjective, see Dimakopoulou (2010).