Notes

ABBREVIATIONS

The ancient sources are mostly identified in S. Hornblower and A. Spawforth (eds.), The Oxford Classical Dictionary, 3rd edn. (1996). Modern journals are mostly identified by the abbreviations listed in L’Année Philologique (2005), which is available online athttp://www.annee-philologique.com.

FGrH	F. Jacoby, Fragmente der griechischen Historiker (1923–)
IG	Inscriptiones Graecae (1873- )
LIMC	Lexicon leonographicum Mythologiae Classicae (1981– )
RE	A. Pauly, G. Wissowa and W. Kroll, Real–Encyclopädie d. klassischen Altertumswissenschaft (1893- )
SEG	Supplementum epigraphicum Graecum (1923- )

CHAPTER 1

1. Hom., Il. 15.79–83; Williams (1993), 179 n. 30; I used these lines to begin lectures in the USA in 1992/3: they are used as an epigraph by Dougherty (2001).

2. Hom., Il. 15.170, and Janko (1994), 237, on parallels to travelling ‘like a thought’.

3. Sharpies (1983), 1–7; Gaskin (1990), 1–15; Williams (1993), 21–58.

4. Morris (1987); Morris (1998), 21–36; Morris (2000), 257–306, for more ideas; Osborne (2004), 87–102, at 91–2, for a survey; de Polignac (2006), 203–24; Burkert (1992C), 533–51, a brilliant overview.

5. Tandy (1997); Hanson (1995).

6. Finley (1956), 140.

7. Popham, Sackett and Themelis (1980), appendix C by J. H. Musgrave, 439.

8. Ridgway (1992), 48.

9. Triantaphyllou (1999), 353–64, at 363.

10. Horn., Od. 20.383.

11. Bremmer (1987), 156–71, at 161.

12. Finley (1981), 157–71, at 161.

13. Majno (1975) is excellent here; Robertson (2002), 103–10.

14. Hom., Il. 11.265–6; see now Holmes (2007), 45–84.

15. Hom., Il. 13.599; Majno (1975), 143.

16. Hom., Il. 11.618–44; Ridgway (1997), 325–44.

17. Hom., Il. 11.740.

18. Hom., Od. 4.220–24.

19. Hom., Od. 10.302–6; Scarborough (1991), 138–72, esp. 139 and 141 n. 5. ‘Moly’ was certainly not our Galantbus (snowdrop).

20. Kourou (1988), 314–24; on Crete, Coldstream (1979A), 257–63.

21. Curt. 5.2.11.

22. Faure (1987); Panayota (2003), plates 130–33 on women buying scent.

23. Hes., Op. 70–95; Hes., Theog. 585–602.

24. Zimmerman (1989); Langdon (1993), 51–2, 60–66, 75–6, 81, 103–9, 176–7, 213–22, 225–31, with excellent bibliography; Zaphiropoulou (1999) for a cavalry battle on Paros; Morgan (2001), 195–227, esp. 200–202 and 215–18; Rolley (2007), 63–70.

25. Hom., Il. 15.679–84 and Od. 5.371; Hom., Il. 10.513 is less certain; Lorimer (1950), 504 n. 2.

26. Langdon (1993), 64–6; Hom., Il. 15.679–84, has one rider jumping across four horses, but it is decidedly similar. Was this Attic cup showing something Homeric, I cannot help wondering?

27. Athenagoras, Leg. 17.3: his source is unknown. Lubtchansky (2005), 1, also cites this neglected passage.

28. Himmelmann (1990), esp. 32, which I follow, despite Schmölder-Veit (2005), 29–42, at 34; Böhm (1990) and (2003), 363–70 on the Near Eastern figures. I am particularly grateful to Dr Annette Haug for detailed help with this vexed question.

29. Ahlberg (1971) for the change; Himmelmann (2000), 253–323, at 298; Osborne (1997), 504–28.

30. IG 7.52, with McDonnell (1991), 183 n. 2.

31. Thuc. 1.6.5 and McDonnell (1991), 182–93, with full bibliography and a slightly different conclusion from mine.

CHAPTER 2

Most (but not all) of the cultures I touch on here are discussed in detail in The Cambridge Ancient History, 2nd edn., vols. 3/1 and 3/2, edited by John Boardman, I. E. S. Edwards, N. G. L. Hammond et al. (1982 and 1991). The latest of many exhibition catalogues on the Phoenicians and their western contacts is La Méditerrannée des phéniciens de Tyr à Carthage (2007), a magnificent work which cites the previous major exhibitions and gives further scholarly references, especially to works on Phoenician craftsmanship which my notes to this chapter presuppose.

1. Bickerman (1980), 75–9.

2. Rawson (1996), 113 and 123–4.

3. Thapar (2000), 119.

4. Grenet (2005), 29–51, an excellent study, esp. 47 nn. 3–4.

5. Radner (2003), 37–64.

6. Tadmor (1994), 232–7 and 269–73.

7. Luckenbill (1927), vol. 2, p. 84, with Limet (1992), 37–55.

8. Meiggs (1982), 74–81.

9. Tadmor (1994), 105, translating Iran Stele II B 18–24.

10. Ponchi (1991).

11. 2 Kings 18: 34 with Hawkins (2004), 151–64; Gonçalves (1986) is fundamental, with Tadmor (1994), 273–82; Kuhrt (2002), 13–34.

12. Tadmor (1994), 81, translating Annals 23, lines 17–18; Oded (1979) on deportations.

13. Taşyürek (1975), 169–80.

14. Tadmor (1994), 177; Cogan (1974), 48–58.

15. Daniel 3:1, where I think that the gold statue of Tiglath Pileser underlies the story, transposed to Nebuchadnezzar near Babylon.

16. Bickerman (1986), 282–98, esp. 290–91.

17. Dalley (1985), 31–48.

18. Bickerman (1988), 9–12; Becking (1992).

19. Gonçalves (1986), no.

20. Isaiah 7: 14; and Caird (1980), 78–9, for a clear exposition.

21. Translation given in Kuhrt (1995), 629–31; Cannuyer (1995), 43–58, for contents.

22. Frame (1999), 31–57, and Redford (1999), 58–60, despite whom I opt for the simpler conclusion, that Shebitku (who handed over Yamani of Ashdod) ruled c. 715–695 BC, and Shabaku (who killed ‘Bocchoris’) ruled c. 730–715 BC, replacing Bocchoris in the (early?) 720s.

23. Oded (1974), 38–49; Kestemont (1983), 53–78, esp. 71; Tadmor (1994), 171 n. 16, however, for huge payments from Tyre.

24. Baurain (1986), 7–28, and Markoe (2005) for the names and identities; Niemeyer (2000), 89–115, with relevant bibliography; Lipinski (2004), 267–336, an admirable survey.

25. 1 Kings 9: 11; Briend and Humbert (1980).

26. Culican (1986), 549–69, though the lily in question is not the ‘Martagón’ (550); Caubet and Poplin (1987), 273–301, at 300, on elephant-ivory ‘brusquement utilisé’; Caubet, Fontan, Herrmann and le Meaux (2007), 205–15, a brilliant survey; on purple, Doumet (2004), 38–49.

27. Bordreuil (2007), 72–83, a lucid summary; for the increasing use of writing in eighth-century South Arabia, which my ‘China to Cadiz’ omits, Caubet and Gadja (2003), 1220–38.

28. Bikai (1983), 396–402.

29. Yon (1987), 357–74, esp. 366–7; Lipinski (1983), 209–34, with bibliography, although I do not accept his conclusion.

30. Text in Lipinski (2004), 46–9: I differ about the ‘Carthage’ in question and the attempted link with Hiram of Tyre, not Sidon. Katzenstein (1973) admits to a bias towards Tyre, eclipsing Sidon.

31. Bikai (2004), 302–11.

32. Joseph., Aj 8.324 = Menander, FGrH 783, F3, for Auza; Docter, Niemeyer, Nijboer and van der Pflicht (2005), 557–77, on Carthage.

33. Bafico, Oggiano, Ridgway and Garbini (1997), 47–54; Ridgway (2006), 239–52.

34. Van Berchem (1967), 307–38, a chain of brilliant speculation.

35. Walbank (1957), 665–9; Feeney (2007), 86–100.

36. Sagona (2002), 24–39; Lipinski (2004), 375–80, with due caution about an early phase.

37. Aubet (2001), 305–37, with map on 306.

38. Arruda (1999–2000), esp. 185–218; Habibi (1992), 145–53, esp. 151, and Lopez Pardo (2005), 46–60, esp. 49 n. 16; El Khayari (2007), 294–5, is important.

39. Diod. Sic. 5.22; Timaeus in Plin., HN 4.104; Penhallurick (1986); Cunliffe(1988).

40. Nuttall (2007), 300 and 303.

41. Frankenstein (1979), 263–94.

42. Brown (1960), 97–102; Markoe (1998), 233–41, suggests iron was imported from Crete, but 235 n. 5 also cites local iron in the Lebanon; Morris (1992), 132, over-emphasizes iron, I think, as a Phoenician import: Ezekiel 27: 12 cites iron as only one item from Tarshish.

43. Markoe (1992–3), 11–31; Ezekiel 27: 12 cites tin from Tarshish too.

44. Ps.-Arist., Mir. ausc. 844–18; Gill (1988), 1–12.

45. Gonzalez de Canales, Serrano and Llompart (2006), 13–30.

46. 1 Kings 10: 22, with Lipinski (2004), 225 and 226–65, for the controversies; Ezekiel 27: 12 and 27: 25, though later in date.

47. Ezekiel 27: 12; Diakonoff (1992), 168–93, a fundamental study.

48. Caubet (1983), 193–8; Savio (2004).

49. Gras (1989), 128–47.

50. Loud and Altman (1938); Caubet (1995); Reade (1995), 225–51.

51. Luckenbill (1927), vol. 2, p. 42; for his predecessor in c. 880–860 BC, who was ‘gathering fruit continuously like a squirrel’, the excellent text in Wiseman (1984), 37–43.

52. Parpola (1995), 47–77, a fine study; Fontan (2004), 456–63.

53. Stronach (1990), 171–80, at 172–3; Karmel Thomason (2001), 63–96; I thus reject Wiseman (1983), 137–44, at 138 n. 21: ‘KUR.Hamani could equally well refer to the Elamite region.’

54. Fuchs (1994), 340–41, text 37B.

55. Damerji (1995), 1–83.

56. Prag (1989), 159–66, with the (still controversial) redating summarized in Brixhe (2004), 271–89.

CHAPTER 3

The connections between Greeks and others in the Mediterranean are excellently illustrated through the essays and catalogue of objects co-ordinated as part of the Cultural Olympiad in 2003: N. C. Stampolidis (ed.), Sea Routes… from Sidon to Huelva: Interconnections in the Mediterranean, 16th-6th c. BC (2003). W. Burkert, Die orientalische Epoche in der griechischen Religion und Literatur (1984), remains a brilliantly concise and adventurous study of the possible impact of Near Eastern events, texts and images on the Greeks: the title of the English translation, The Orientalizing Revolution (1992), is a little misleading. T. J. Dunbabin, The Greeks and their Eastern Neighbours (1957), is a brilliant pair to it whose interest is enhanced by the passage of time. Ian Morris, Archaeology as Cultural History (2000), advances bold interpretations of the diffusion of myths, the so-called ‘Dark Ages’ and the arrival of writing. The essays in S. Deger–Jalkotzy and I. S. Lemos (eds.), Ancient Greece: From the Mycenaean Palaces to the Age of Homer (2006), give an invaluable, up-to-date regional view. The art of the Greek eighth century is memorably discussed by N. Himmelmann, Reading Greek Art (1998), accessible now in English. There are still many penetrating observations on art and crafts in L. H. Jeffery, Archaic States of Greece (1976), a tribute to the sharp eye of the great expert on early Greek inscriptions and the alphabet.

1. Fuchs (1994), 440, with references; Stylianou (1989), 8–15, is important; Lipinski (2004), 51–4; Na’aman (1998), 239–47; Yon and Malbran–Labat (1995), 159–79, are decisive on the stele’s original siting.

2. Stylianou (1989), 8–15.

3. Fuchs (1994), 440, with references.

4. Fuchs (1994), 319, lines 117–19; Elayi and Cavigneaux (1979), 59~75-

5. Parker (2000), 69–77, with bibliography: the translation is contested at minor points. Mark (2005), 104–14, importantly challenges van Doorninck (1982), 277–86, and the theory that Greek ships had rams by c. 900 BC.

6. Fuchs (1998), 124–31, with bibliography, but not the new evidence about Egyptian pharaohs’ dates.

7. Brinkman (1989), 53–71, has led the sceptics; but Rollinger (1997), 167–72, is one of those still rightly unconvinced.

8. Buchner and Ridgway (1993), 378–82; Ridgway (1999B), 143–52, wrote unaware of the new evidence bearing on Bocchoris’ dates in Egypt.

9. Hdt. 2.44; 6.46–7; Lipinski (2004) is still cautious about dating.

10. Boardman (1999C), 54–94, a masterly survey; Winter (1976), 1–22, and Gubel (1987), 20–34, on ivories, with my Chap. 2 n. 26 above.

11. Johnston (2003), 263–76, summarizes the present position; Ruijgh (1997), 553–603, a longer overview.

12. Brixhe (2004), 271–89, with excellent bibliography.

13. Powell (1991) vigorously enlarges Wade–Gery (1952), 11–14, but like the contributors to the review in the Cambridge Archaeological Journal, 2 (1992), 115–26,1 cannot believe him.

14. Csapo (2005), excellent on modern theories of ‘myth’; Hansen (1997), 463–88, on folk tale.

15. Antonaccio (1995A); Morris (1988), 750–61, and (2000), 267–73; Kistler (1998).

16. Demand (2004), 61–84; Forrest (2000), 280–92; Morris (1987); Malkin (1987), 261–2, for various views.

17. Parker (1996), 28 and n. 65, on early calendars; Forrest (1957), 160–75; Parke (1967) and (1985), on oracles; Burkert (1992C), 533–51, on religion.

18. West (1997), 61–106.

19. Culican (1986), 581–614, on the ‘Huntsman’s Day’ narrative and much else of fundamental importance; Hermary (1992), 129–38, not all of which I believe; Hom., Il. 18.570–72, the Linus song.

20. Hainsworth (1991), a fundamental study among many.

21. Graziosi (2002), 20–124.

22. Mitchell (1990), 183–93, at 184–5, for such days at Hadrianic Oenoanda.

23. Hom., Od. 17.518–20.

24. Janko (1998), 1–13, my preferred view, perhaps with a touch of writing helping an ‘orally derived’ whole, as in Foley (2002) and Dowden (1996), 47–61; Kullmann (1984), 307–23, and West (2003B), 1–14, esp. 1–14, (2001), 10–11, and (2003A), 479–88, believe in a literate, textually composing Homer: sadly, I cannot.

25. Hom., Od. 6.112–32; Verg., G. 2.88–9, with Mynors’ note ad loc; Lib., Or. 11.236; Ep. 1257; and Julian., Ep. 58, 401A (written to Libanius!); Ps.-Julian., Ep. 80.

26. West (2003A), 479–88, for brilliant surgery which I do not think to be necessary; de Romilly (1995), 103–13, on Homeric gardens.

27. Gould (2001), 239–40.

28. Malkin (1998), with full bibliography; Bérard (1957), still a fine collection of sources; I do not count the ‘Ionian Migrators’ as ‘returning heroes’.

29. Hom., Il. 2.455–79.

30. Wiegand and Schrader (1904), 12–13, on similar flocks in the delta of the nearby Maeander river in early 1898: P. J. Thonemann alerted me to this.

31. Hom., Il. 2.780–85.

CHAPTER 4

The fundamental studies on early Greek items in the Near East are by J. N. Coldstream, especially his ‘Exchanges between Phoenicians and Early Greeks’, National Museum News, Beirut, 11 (2002), with an acutely chosen bibliography. Joanna Luke, Ports of Trade: Al Mina and Geometric Greek Pottery in the Levant (2003), contains very helpful lists, but more has turned up already and a pendent semi-circle skyphos is announced near Pella in the Decapolis east of the Jordan: see the intervention by L. Nigro inMediterranea: Quaderni di archeologia etrusco-italica (2005), 647. I hesitate, therefore, to link ‘phases’ of such imports into the Levant with local phases of change in Euboea and elsewhere. This approach has been taken in very different styles by Irene S. Lemos, ‘The Changing Relationship of the Euboeans and the East’, in Alexandra Villing (ed.), The Greeks in the East (2005), 53–60, and Ian Morris, ‘Negotiated Peripherality in Iron Age Greece: Accepting and Resisting the East’, in P. N. Kardulias (ed.), World Systems Theory in Practice: Leadership, Production and Exchange (1993), 63–84. Recent finds of Euboean pottery at Sidon are not yet published but will surely fill out the picture.

On the Lefkandi connection, the excavator M. Popham gave a groundbreaking lecture in Oxford which was a cardinal point in my re-thinking of Chapters 4–7 of this book. It appeared as ‘Precolonization: Early Greek Contact with the East’, in G. R. Tsetskhladze and F. de Angelis (eds.), The Archaeology of Greek Colonisation: Essays Dedicated to Sir John Boardman (1994), 11–34. The site was then further illuminated by I. S. Lemos in The Protogeometric Aegean (2002), which is basic to my chapter. Like her, I was inspired by V. R. Desborough’s ideas on a ‘ceramic koine~’ between Euboea, Thessaly and relevant islands, set out in his essay in F. Emmison and Roy Stephens (eds.), Tribute to an Antiquary: Essays Presented to Mark Fitch by Some of his Friends (1976), 25–40. Typically, he was kind enough to give me a copy in typescript when I first joined him as a Fellow of New College, Oxford in autumn 1977.

1. Malkin (2003), 153–70, esp. 156, on ‘social and religious modalities of collective memory’. For sceptical rejection, which I do not share, Osborne (1998), 251–69.

2. Hom., Od. 14.290–97; 15.417.

3. Hom., Od. 13.272, not exploited by Winter (1995), 247–72.

4. Hom., Od. 15.417.

5. Hom., Il. 23.743–7; Crielaard (2003), 49–62, an important study: for a similar travelling object in the Levant, see catalogue entry no. 163 in La Méditerranée des phéniciens (2007), 340.

6. Snodgrass (1998) for the debate; Himmelmann (1998), 67–102, brilliant on narrative art in general; Coldstream (1991), 37–56.

7. Papadopoulos (2005), p. 577.

8. Karageorghis (2002B), 115–41, surveying this debated question.

9. Fantalkin (2001), 117–25; Coldstream (2003A), 247–58; Finkelstein (2004), 181–8; Gilboa, Sharon and Zorn (2004), 32–59.

10. Munger (2003), 66–82, and Gilboa, Sharon and Zorn (2004), 32–59.

11. Catling (1998), 365–78.

12. Lemos (2002), 197–212.

13. Gilboa (1999), 109–39.

14. Coldstream (1998A), 303–10.

15. Schreiber (2003), an exceptional study, convincingly challenging the proposed ‘Phoenician’ origin and Aegean factories of ‘black-on-red’.

16. Coldstream (1998B), 353–60, at 357–9, and (2003A), 247–58.

17. Bonatz (1998), 211–29.

18. Kopcke (2002), 109–17, on Tell Hadar; Bonatz (1998), 214–15: ‘a date at the beginning of Protogeometric, i.e. shortly after 1050 BC, best paralleled in the fill of the Toumba building, Lefkandi II.1.23 and plate 49, 166–7’. The piece was found in ‘Iron IB Level 7C, which could stretch on from the mid-eleventh to the mid-tenth centuries. Level 8 is dated, tentatively, c. 1050 BC (p. 137). The parallel piece at the Toumba belongs c. 960–950 BC. Bonatz suggests that the Syria piece is Argive, a prototype for a similar Argive import at Lefkandi. The piece is fragmentary and not distinctive, but I incline to an Attic–Euboean origin, c. 960 BC, as at Lefkandi too.

19. Courbin (1993), 95–114, esp. 104.

20. Coldstream (2003A), 247–58, at 253.

21. Coldstream, with Bikai (1988), 35–44; Coldstream (1989), 90–96.

22. Popham, Sackett and Themelis (1980); Lemos (2002); Lemos, Archaeological Reports, 52 (2006–7), 38–40, on the settlement which Dr Lemos and her expert team kindly showed me in 2007.

23. Popham, Sackett and Themelis (1980), 423–7, for a survey. The main candidates now are: (i) Argoura (Knoepfler 1981, 289–329; opposed well by Bérard 1985, 268–75); (ii) Lelanton (G. L. Huxley, as suggested to Jeffery, 1976, 69); (iii) Oichalia (Forrest, Boardman and many others: certainly wrong, as it was in ‘District 5’ of the territory on the north-east-facing coast: map in Knoepfler 1997, 402–3: was it Viglatoura, perhaps?); (iv) ‘Old Eretria’ (not Strabo’s, however, at 10.1.10; Mazarakis Ainian 1987, 3–23, summarizes the long doxography and the case against); (v) We do not know (though Lefkandiots afforced the (new?) Eretria c. 850–800, to the east of them).

24. Summarized in Lemos (2002), 226–7; the first ‘eastern’ jug was in Skoubris T.48, in Lefkandi I.347–8, plate 270.

25. Summarized, with big bibliography, in Lemos (2002), 161–8. The suggestion that the knife might signify the lady’s role as a priestess is mine.

26. The apt phrase is Peter Brown’s (1977) in a later context.

27. Hom., Il. 23.165–83.1 cannot agree with Poplin (1995), 253–66, that at 23.172 Achilles is ‘groaning’ at the need to kill horses, whose presence on the pyre is therefore skated over quickly by the poet. ‘Megala stenachizo~n’ is a formulaic phrase. The ‘groaning’ is for Patroclus and the sad occasion. If Poplin really believes that five living horses can be put on a bonfire, I would need (‘groaning greatly’) to see him do it.

28. Hom., Il. 6.419–20; Il. 23.786; Il. 7.87–91.

29. Frederiksen (1979), 277–311, at 294, for this good phrase.

30. Lemos (2002), 140–46 and 216–17, for a survey.

31. Blome (1984), 9–21; Antonaccio (1995B), 5–28, not always accurate about the site; West (1997), 398.

32. Crielaard (1998), 187–205, at 189; Rizza (1979), 194–7; Reese (1995), 35–42; Hadjisavvas, BCH 124 (2000), 697.

33. For example, Coldstream (2002), 15–32, at 19, and (2003B), 36–8.

34. Carter (1998), 172–7, on the little jugs which she considers to be Egyptian ‘antiques’ and possibly brought over in the tenth century from the Levant.

35. Lemos (2002), 165, on T.39, with Coldstream (2002), 15–32, at 21–2.

36. Lemos (2007A), 275–80.

37. Popham and Lemos (1999), 151–7: a forthcoming study by J. H. Kroll shows, importantly, that the weights in this grave are local and varied: they are not Near Eastern, a point supporting Lemos (2003), 187–96.

38. Lemos (2005), 53–60, at 56, suggested a decline in Euboean imports to the east c. 900–850 BC, but the recent finds at Tel Rehov suggest caution, still, about any ‘gap’.

39. Coldstream (1979B), 255–69, and (1995A), 187–214; Crielaard (1999), 261–90, esp. fig. 2; Lemos and Hatcher (1991), 197–208.

40. Coldstream and Mazar (2003), 29–48.

41. Dorsey (1991); Schreiber (2003), 78–80.

42. Bikai (1987A) and (1987B), 125–8.

43. Bikai (1987C), 1–19; Masson and Sznycer (1972), 13–20, on the inscription.

44. Joseph., AJ 8.146 and Ap. 1.118, have a splendid textual problem in their manuscripts. I follow von Gutschmid in reading itukaiois, therefore ‘Utica’, and not the (emended) Kitiois. The problem is clearly and correctly set out by Bikai (1992), 241–8.

45. Coldstream (1969), 1–8; Steph. Byz. s.v. Melos; Hdt. 1.105, 2.44, 4.747, 6.47.

46. Coldstream (2003B), 70–71; Blandin (2007), vol. 1, pp. 90–91.

47. Coldstream (2007), 135–9, for the changing debate; I disagree with him about the implications of the Near Eastern seals in some of the women’s graves; for slave-jewellers, Meiggs–Lewis, GHI 79. A47 and p. 247; Hyp., C. Athenog. 23–5.

48. Mazarakis Ainian (2002), 149–78, and (2007).

49. Van de Moortel and Zachou (2003–4), 39–48; Archaeological Reports, 53 (2006–7), 40–41.

50. A huge bibliography, surveyed (with an independent viewpoint) by Papadopoulos (2005), 580–88; note also E. Scarlatidou and W. Constantinidou, AEMTh. 17 (2003), 213–21, on Gonna, about 7 miles south of Thessalonica; M. Tiverios, H. Manakidou, ibid., 195–9, on Kabournaki, and M. Tiverios, S. Gimatzidis, AEMTh. 16 (2002), 223–33.

51. Vokotopoulou (1996), 319–28.

52. Carington–Smith and Vokotopoulou (1992), 495–502; Papadopoulos (2005), 589–90, refers to Orientalia, not yet published, ‘some of which were thought to be Phoenician’.

53. I reject Hammond (1995), 307–15, and his attempts to place the ‘chalkidi-kon genos’ of Hdt. 7.185 and 8.127 back in the early post–Mycenaean period. My arguments are more or less those of Mele (1998), 217–28, at 221–4.

54. Thuc. 4.110.1 means that Torone is a Chalcidian–Euboean settlement: I agree with Hornblower (1997), 177–86. Knoepfler (1990), 99–115, is important on the calendar (despite Papadopoulos 2005, 587–8), but I hesitate to track it back here into the early ‘Dark Ages’. Vokotopoulou (1996), 319–28, is also still fundamental.

55. Coldstream (1996), 133–45, with esp. 142 on the oldest MG II krater, on T.Pyre 14; perhaps later texts linking Attica and Euboea are a memory of this, not just of Athens’ fifth-century ‘empire’; Pind., Pae. 5; Ps.-Scymn. 571–7; Strabo 10.1.8.

56. Coldstream (1995C), 391–405; Liston and Papadopoulos (2006), 7–38; Morris and Papadopoulos (2004), 225–42.

57. Coldstream (2003B), 79–81; the ‘Isis’ figurine cannot now be a main argument that those ladies were priestesses of Demeter. They may have been, but similar figurines occur in Lefkandi Toumba burials, not obviously with priestesses.

58. Coldstream (1982A), 261–75, is no longer convincing here.

59. Ion of Chios, FGrH 392, F1–3; Lemos (2002), 240, and items exhibited in the island’s Archaeological Museum.

60. Paus. 7.5.5–8, with Graham (1978), 61–98, esp. 90–91. There is a ‘chalcitis’, too, in Paus. 7.5.12 and at least by 340 BC a ‘harbour of the Chalcidians’ in H. Engelmann and R. Merkelbach (eds.), Die Inscriften von Erythrai und Klazomenai, vol. 1 (1972), nos. 41 and 151.

61. Crielaard (1993), 139–46, and (2006), 271–97, also discusses this well.

62. Blandin (2007), vol. 1, pp. 90–91, 101–7, 109–22, with bibliography.

63. Crielaard (2002), 239–96.

64. Coldstream (1983), 201–7.

65. Crielaard (1999), 261–90.

66. Ezekiel 27: 13; Diakonoff (1992), 168–93, at 185.

67. Riis (1970), 164.

68. Themelis (1980), 78–102; Schmid (1999), 273–93, esp. 278 n. 21 and 283 n. 48.

69. Theophr., De Odor. 28.

70. Schreiber (2003), 65–73; Faure (1987).

71. Hom., Il. 2.537; Thgn. 784 and 892; Walker (2004), 14 and n. 48, quoting Hiller von Gaertringen, A Lexicon of Greek Personal Names, vol. 1 (1987), 347, for oinos-names at Eretria, but note also ibid., vol. 3/B (2004), 321–2, for Thessaly.

72. Leake (1835), 53: ‘The chief produce of the island is wine; from Cumae and Kastrevala alone, 20,000 barrels of 54 okes are sent to Smyrna and the Black Sea’; Robert (1978A), 535–8, alerted me to this. For the volcano, Philippson (1951), 615–22, with repeated stress on the area’s fruits, crops and fine vineyards (615). I am extremely grateful to Sylvian Fachard for taking me to the region and sharing his detailed knowledge of it.

73. Brodersen (2001), 25–8, with earlier bibliography. However, (i) Steph. Byz. sometimes errs but he depends on informed, if varied, Hellenistic sources; Fraser (1996), 3–6, for a summary; Whitehead (1994), 98–124, discusses errors, but a total invention of a place is another matter; (ii) I cannot evade Strabo 5.4.3., as Brodersen has to: see my Chap. 9 n. 37 below; (iii) Scymnus 238 is not evidence for a first foundation of Italian Cumae by Aeolian Cumae: see my Chap. 9 n. 37 below. Ancient Cumae lies somewhere near modern Koumi, perhaps on or near one of the local Mycenaean sites overlooking Stomio Bay.

74. Sapouna–Sakellaraki (1997), 35–42, and (2002), 117–49; Lemos and Hatcher (1986), 323–37.

75. Ezekiel 27: 18–19; Millard (1962), 201–3, though he wrongly places Helbun about 15 miles north-east of Hama, following A. Musil, Paltnyrena (1928), 230–33. Dussaud (1927), 265–7, is preferable: he cites later testimony to fine grapes here (287), and notes that locals, according to al Bosrani, sold snow, serving it in the shops and even transporting it as far as Cairo in times without fridges.

76. Coldstream (1979B), 253–69, and (1995A), 187–214; Crielaard (1999), 261–90.

77. Murray (1995), 33–43, without, however, the important Pryor (1988), esp. 6–7, 94–6, 116–17 for what I discuss.

78. Ibn Jubayr (trans. 1952), 326–7.

79. Dem. 56.20, trusted (unwisely) by Casson (1988), 271 n. 3; contrast, however, Tammuz (2006), 145–62.

80. Crielaard (2000A), 51–63.

81. 2 Samuel 8: 18, 15: 18, 20: 7, 20: 23; 1 Kings 1: 38; Burkert (1992A), 25, with proper caution.

82. Wade–Gery (1952), 8–9 and 92: ‘The inscription makes it clear that Kyprios is intended as a person, not as an ethnic qualifying Eldios.’ I agree, having seen a squeeze copy with W. G. Forrest and the text in the Chios Museum, pace West (1997), 620.

83. Johnston (2003), 263–76, for the present position; among the vast bibliography see especially Powell (1991), Brixhe (2004), 271–300, and my Chap. 8 nn. 48–9.

84. Marek (1993), 27–44; I doubt Csapo (2000), 105–7, who favours multiple origins; Dr P. Haarer suggested to me a possible origin on board ship; Aupert (2003), 107–21, for early inscriptions from Amathus, so far no earlier than the sixth century BC.

85. Burkert (1992A), 29, and (2004), 19.

CHAPTER 5

The complex history and archaeology of Cyprus in this general period is brilliantly surveyed by V. Karageorghis, Early Cyprus (2002), a book for specialists and non-specialists, with excellent illustrations and many penetrating comments on recent theories and discoveries about the island’s past; O. Casabonne, La Cilicie dans l’époque achéménide (2004), is a very full study of the geography and topography; Claude Mutafian, La Cilicie au carrefour des empires, vols. 1–2 (1988), is a clear and penetrating study by a former normalien; J. D. Hawkins, Corpus of Hieroglyphic Luwian Inscriptions, vols. 1/1 and 1/2 (2000), is the masterpiece among recent studies touching on this area; A. M. Jasink, ‘I greci in Cilicia nel periodo neo-assirio’, Mesopotamia, 24 (1989), 117–26, is a recent, brief survey of the Assyrian evidence for this region and the gaps in our knowledge.

1. Hom., Od. 17.443; Hom., Il. 11.20; Baurain (1980), 277–308; Ribichini (1982), 479–500; West (1997), 57.

2. Iacovou (2005), 17–44; Iacovou (2006), 315–36.

3. Iacovou (2002), 101–22; Petit (1999), 108–20.

4. Chrestou (1998), 207–16, and esp. the discussion by Karageorghis and others, 229–320: ‘I put “tophet” in inverted commas’ (230).

5. Yon (1992A), 301–6, and (1999), 17–33; Coldstream (1986), 321–9, esp. 326–7; Karageorghis (1977), 61–4, for five fragments, Euboean to my eye, from pieces found at Kition, dating to SPG–MGI.

6. Karageorghis (1967–78) and (2002A), 19–29; despite Coldstream (2003B), 349–50, who still emphasizes the combination of so many ‘Homeric’ features.

7. Gjerstad (1979), 89–93.

8. Coldstream (1983), 201–7, and (1986), 321–9, at 326–7, noting parallels with Amathus T.194 and elsewhere; Crielaard (1993), 139–46.

9. Coldstream (1979B), 253–69.

10. Gisler (1995), 11–95; Coldstream (1994B), 77–86; Chrestou (1996), 165–82, important on the origin of Cesnola’s so-called ‘Kourion Treasure’, now in the Metropolitan Museum; Marankou (2000), on its ‘excavator’.

11. Coldstream (1994A), 155–9.

12. Xen., An. 1.2.22; Dagron and Feissel (1987), no. 109, pp. 188–9.

13. Dio Chrys., Or. 34.21.

14. Ozbayogou (2003), 159–72, at 165–71.

15. Robert (1963), 22–7, and Casabonne (2004), 32–3, on buffaloes; 1 Kings 10: 28 and Hdt. 3.90 on horses; Casabonne (2004), 34 and n. 91, on ‘Sizzu’ as a ‘land of horses’.

16. Hom., 11. 6.201.

17. Strabo 13.1.60–62; 14.4.1, with Leaf (1923), 305–16; Dupont–Sommer and Robert (1964), 52–3, with notes.

18. Bing (1973), 346–90, but Diod. Sic. 18.62.2; 19.56.5; and 20.108.2 all make topographic sense if Cyinda is Anavarza. It explains, too, why the treasurer Harpalus was lodged at nearby Tarsus in Theopompus, FGrH 115, F254A–B; at 14.5.10, Strabo’s‘hyperkeitai’ is inaccurate, as often in his work.

19. See Chap. 13, pp. 229–33.

20. Casabonne (2004), 79; Tac, Hist. 2.3; ApoUod., Bibl. 3.14.3; Fourrier (2003), 79–91, is too sceptical about the pottery.

21. Houwink ten Cate (1961), 127 and 130, for names; Kammenhuber (1990), 188–95, with bibliography.

22. Hawkins (2000), 3; Hawkins (1986), 363–76.

23. Tekoglu and Lemaire (2000), 961–1006, with bibliography and lists of the inscriptions at 992 nn. 59–63 and 1006 nn. 108–9.

24. Lemaire (1983), 9–19.

25. Hawkins (2000), 44, preferable to the earlier dating still canvassed by Lipinski (2004), 116–19; Röllig (1999), 50–81; Bron (1979).

26. Winter (1979), 115–52, at 138–9.

27. Sinclair (1990), vol. 4, pp. 277–82, a clear summary.

28. Çambel (1999), 20–23 and frontispiece, and plates 32–3.

29. Hawkins (2000), 53; Hawkins (1980), 213–25, and (1989), 189–98.

30. Mellink (1950), 141–59, at 144.

31. Dio Chrys., Or. 35.1–2; Bing (1971), 99–109, was even inclined, wrongly, to accept Tarsus as a colony of Lindos.

32. Strabo 14.5.8; Pompon. Mela 1.77, with Hind (1999), 77–84.

33. Arslan (2003), 258–61, for excavations so far.

34. Casabonne (2004), 41–2 and n. 114; 80–81.

35. Hom., Il. 23.186; it helps to explain Ar., Lys. 944 (the rhodion muron there is a typical funerary oil).

36. Dr M. Rix confirmed this to me from his own field work; twice-flowerers in Verg., G. 4.119, with R. A. B. Mynors’ Commentary, 274, unconvincingly considering it ‘probably a poetical expression for an unusually long season’.

37. Ridgway (1992), 60–63, for tne type.

38. Arr., Anab. 2.5.9.

39. Hdt. 3.91.7.

40. Hodos (2000), 145–53.

41. Sinclair (1990), vol. 4, pp. 309–11, on the ‘Little Gate’, portella, here; in antiquity, Xen., An. 1.4.9; Callisth., FGrH 124, F35; Hammond (1994), 15–26.

42. Hdt. 3.91.1, with Asheri (1990), 304–7, on the value of the list.

43. RE, vol. 22/1 (1953), 421–6, s.v. ‘Poseidion’.

44. Xen., An. 1.4.6; Arr., Anab. 2.6.2.

45. Sinclair (1990), vol. 4, pp. 309–12.

46. Pind., Ol. 7.19; Thuc. 7.57.6.

47. IG 12.9, 1189, 20–29; Vokotopoulou (1996), 319–28, esp. 326: ‘holy places of Poseidon, or Poseideia, which the Eretrians used to found on the coast close to their colonies’.

48. Heidel (1953), 117–88, at 146–51.

49. Abydenos, FGrH 685, F5(6), who quotes what ‘he says’, that is Sennacherib’s own text, surely known in Greek through Berossos; Berossos, FGrH 680, F7 c.31, known from Alex. Polyhistor.

50. Arr., Anab. 2.5.3; Casabonne (2004), 122–3.

51. Abydenos, FGrH 685, F5; I disagree with Momigliano (1934), 412–16.

52. Dalley (1999), 73–81, at 76.

53. Niebuhr already proposed to read ‘Athene’, rightly, in Abydenos, FGrH 685, F5(6). The problem of the ‘temple’ is wholly misunderstood by Burstein (1978), 24, his F2A and F28.

54. Arr., Anab. 2.5.1; Robert (1951), 256–9.

55. Houghton (1984), 99–110, esp. 102 and plates 12–13.

56. Arr., Anab. 2.5–2.7; Lane Fox (1973), 162–72.

CHAPTER 6

E. Lipinski, Itineraria Phoenicia (2004), deals in full with the main ‘Phoenician’ coast, and C. Doumet–Serhal (ed.), A Decade of Archaeology and History in the Lebanon (2004), has magnificent photographs of major sites and much else. The short chapters on ‘Les Sites’ in La Méditerranée des phéniciens de Tyr à Carthage (2007), 267–76, are importantly up to date with recent bibliographies. D. Bonatz, ‘Some Considerations on the Material Culture of Colonial Syria in the Iron Age’, EVO 16 (1993), 123–57, has much of relevance, but he does not distinguish correctly between ‘Posideion’ and Ras el-Bassit at this date and his sections on Al Mina are now out of date.

1. Bordreuil (1988), 301–14, esp. 310–11, for a ‘par ‘ar Hmn’ which I would explain as Pahri–Pagras at the foot of the Amanus range; Spuler, in RE, vol. 18 (1942), 9311; Sinclair (1990), vol. 4, pp. 266–71.

2. Bell (1928), 336.

3. Key Fowden (1999), 2.

4. Seyrig (1970), 290–311, at 297–8.

5. Waldbaum (1994), 55–8; Luke (2003), 34 n. 85, thinks the Ekron sherd ‘may have been part of a fill’.

6. Schreiber (2003), 160–62; Herrea Gonzalez and Balensi (1986), 159–71.

7. Coldstream (2003A), 247–58.

8. Coldstream and Mazar (2003), 29–48 and figs. 7–8.

9. Amos 6: 4 ff., with the important notes in Wolff (1973), 273–5, the essential guide; Eissfeldt (1966), 165–76, on party words.

10. Kelso (1948), 22–3, with fig. 2 showing handles, although Honeyman (1939), 76–90, at 82, denied them on Hebrew cups. I hesitate to accept the evidence of a modern’survival’ presented in Sukenik (1940), 59–61, although Prausnitz (1966), 177–88, approves it as explaining Jael’s ‘lordly dish’ at Judges 5: 25. His supposed Phoenician ‘kraters’ are, strictly, amphorae.

11. Boardman (2002B), 1–16, at 8–10; Isaiah 1: 22.

12. Saidah (1977), 135–46; Courbin (1977), 147–57, suggested an Argive origin, but Attic looks more likely; Bordreuil (1977A), 159–61.

13. Stager (2003), 233–48, an essential study.

14. Diod. Sic. 14.97.

15. Kroll (2003), 313–24, an excellent study.

16. Luke (2003), 33.

17. Frost (2001), 61–74; Raban (1998), 428–38.

18. Riis(1988), 315–24.

19. Riis (1970), 44–73.

20. Perreault (1993), 59–83, at 72–7; Boardman (2006B), 507–34, at 522; ‘some features of a Greek temple, without quite being one’. The tiles and the Greek inscription ‘might attest no more than literate and accomplished slaves’. Bonatz (1993), 123–57, at 132–3.

21. Yon (2006).

22. Yon (2000), 2.

23. Stucky (1983); Lagarce and Lagarce (1995), 141–54.

24. Jo. Malalas, Chron. 11.3 (ed. J. Thurn, 2000, 205); Frost (2001), 61–74.

25. Na‘aman (2004A), 33–9; I disagree with his suggested translation as ‘Cape of the Tyrians’, and I follow von Soldt (2005), 159. I also disagree with his location for it.

26. Courbin (1986), 175–204; Courbin (1990), 503–9.

27. Dionys. Per. 914–16, on ‘Posideia erga’, i.e. Ras el-Bassit; Diod. Sic. 34/5 F28; Le Rider (1986), 393–408.

28. Courbin (1978), 48–62, on the medieval names; ‘Pollcinum, Pomcin, Pocin’ derive, I suggest, from the Greek Polichnion, a ‘settlement’, not from the much earlier Posideion.

29. Courbin (1986), 175–204, but I reject his identification on 187–8; Luke (2003), 32–3 and 36, for a list of finds.

30. Seyrig (1970), 290–311, at 297–8 (important).

31. Stadiasmos Maris Magni, 140–49, esp. 145; compare Ps.-Arist., On Winds 973^a/15.

32. Dussaud (1927), 413–39, is still excellent; Strabo 16.2.8 on the ‘nymphaion’.

33. Seyrig (1970), 290–311, at 302–3; App., Syr. 63; Polyb. 5.58.4; Diod. Sic. 19.79; Dussaud (1927), n. 7; T. Reinach, Journal des Savants (1905), 556, called it the ‘Ptolemaic Calais’, very aptly.

34. 1 Kings 10: 28.

35. Ezekiel 27: 14.

36. Yenar (2005) for regional survey.

37. Reese, in Moorey (1999), 118; Caubet and Poplin (1987), 273–301.

38. Moorey (1999), 115: ‘it probably survived into the Iron Age.’

39. Fuchs (1994), 325, line 230, an important bit of evidence.

40. Grayson (1991), 217–18.

41. Hawkins (2000A), 400–405.

42. Lipinski (2000).

43. Lemaire (1977), 27–40, for Luwian names in Phoenician seal-inscriptions there; Melchert (2003) for local Luwian studies.

44. Hawkins (2000A).

45. Lemaire (2001), 185–91.

46. Hawkins (2000B), 400–401; Hawkins (1980), 213–25; Hawkins (1989), 188–97; Bonatz (2000).

47. Kohlmeyer (2001) and Hawkins (2000), 361–424.

48. Assaf (1990); Alexander (2002), 11–20; Zimansky (2002), 177–92.

49. Jasink (1995), with map on p. 142; Hutter (1996), 116–22.

50. Hawkins (2000), 576.

51. Mazzoni (1994), 319–39, and (1995), 181–91.

52. Hawkins, Hattin–Pattin, Reallexikon der Assyriologie, vol. 4, pp. 160–62.

53. Hawkins, Kinalua, Reallexikon der Assyriologie, vol. 5, pp. 597–8; against Harrison, I agree with Hawkins (2000).

54. Seyrig (1970), 290–311, at 298: ‘encore de nos jours fort dangereuse’, whereas Woolley (1953), 20, calls it ‘one of the few harbours on this rocky and inhospitable coast, a sheltered roadstead amply sufficient for the little ships of the ancient world’. Holleaux (1942), 281–309, and Pamir (2006), 535–43, at 536 n. 5, on ancient and more recent navigability.

55. Grayson (1996), 17.

CHAPTER 7

Al Mina has sprung back into controversy but the studies by Boardman (2002A) and (2005) show that it has not all been without good effect. The chronology of the site (and my next two chapters) are partly linked with the vexed chronology of particular cups, the Euboean pendent semi-circle skyphoi (‘pss’). Heroic work was done on them by R. A. Kearsley, The Pendent Semi-circle Skyphos…, BICS Supplement 44 (1989), and also ‘The Greek Geometric Wares from Al Mina Levels 10–8…’, Med. Arch. 8 (1995), 7–81, trying to work out an orderly sequence, but her chronology is no longer convincing and it is important that I have not followed it here or in the west. Among the objections to it are the following: (i) She did not draw on the growing body of evidence from Lefkandi: M. R. Popham and I. Lemos review her schema from that angle especially in Gnomon (1992), 152–5. (ii) The growing body of evidence from Eretria does not fit her schema, either, and its classifiers there, especially C. Léderrey, explain to me that they have many pieces whose shapes and contexts do not fit the schema or the chronology of Kearsley’s work. So they have abandoned her datings and her ‘Type 6’, and started again with a chronology which will appear in one of the Swiss School’s Eretriavolumes. (iii) Kearsley’s chronology tends to bring down the foundation ‘date’ of Al Mina to the 730s BC (she suggests a link with Greek ‘mercenaries’ there after the main Assyrian conquest of 738 BC). There was, however, older Greek material on the site. Her Al Mina would then become a much later foundation than everybody’s foundation of Pithecussae (except that of K. de Vries: see notes to my Chap. 8 below). I cannot possibly believe that, (iv) Her schema conflicts with those (which are too low, if anything) in Iron Age coastal Italian sites at Veii and especially Pontecagnano, on which see the important judgements of N. Kourou, in G. Bartoloni and F. Delpino (eds.), Oriente e occidente: metodi e discipline a confronto, Mediterranea: quaderni di archeologia etrusco-italica, 1 (2005), 497–515, at 500–502: Kearsley Type 6 skyphoi ‘should be dated to the period 770–750 BC’, he concludes, ‘as suggested by the Al Mina material too’. (v) Her schema is also at odds with recent finds at Huelva: ‘Type 6’ fragments there occur with Phoenician and other Greek material dating c. 800–750 BC. In short, her important work is not valid for dating and its typology is not a secure guide. Nonetheless, as a major publication, it is still (understandably) being applied to Euboean finds, especially in Italy, but it should be dropped there too.

My suggestion that ‘Potatnoi/u Karon’ is a Greek attempt to render a non-Greek name matches a suggestion about the later ‘Koile Syria’ which had previously caused so many theories in studies of Alexander and his Successors. M. Sartre, ‘La Syrie creuse n’existe pas’, in P. L. Gatier et al., Géographie historique au proche-orient (1988), 15–40, correctly revived the explanation of A. Schalit in 1954: ‘Koile~’ is a Greek transcription of the Aramaic kul (‘all’, ‘the entire’). The crux at Arr., Anab. 2.13.7, is solved: Alexander appoints a satrap of ‘All Syria’, a previous entity. I suggest the Greeks’ ‘Karon’ is a similar rendering of non-Greek karu.

1. Woolley (1953), 19.

2. Boardman (2005), 278–91; Woolley (1937), 1–15; Woolley (1938), 1–30, 153–70; Robertson (1940), 3–21.

3. Woolley (1953), 178; Pamir (2006), 535–43, revisiting the site.

4. Woolley (1953), 192.

5. Poulsen (1912), 57–9, 74–82, 109–18; Homann–Wedeking (1950), 19–21.

6. Boardman (1957), 1–29.

7. Boardman (1990A), 169–90; Boardman (1999A), 135–61; Boardman (2002A), 315–31, with full bibliographies of the views he counters, also set out in Lehmann (2005), 61–92; he updates Kearsley (1995), 7–81, whose chronology I do not accept.

8. Boardman (2005), 284, suggests that the use of rectangular ‘bricks’ implies Greeks; however, Haines (1970), 45 and plate 117D, shows both square and rectangular bricks in the non-Greek buildings at Tell Tayinat.

9. Luke (2003), with bibliography.

10. Tadmor (1994), Stele IIB, lines 12–13 on p. 105. I nad noticed this before reading Zadok (1996), 11–13, who noticed it too. Boardman (2002A), 315–31, at 328, doubts it, but S. Dalley (whom he acknowledges at n. 28) was not so sceptical when we looked at the full context again.

11. Diod. Sic. 19.79.6: one manuscript reads ‘potamou’, perhaps correctly: ‘Trading Post of the River [Orontes]’ fits rather nicely. Dussaud (1927), 419, wrongly emends to ‘Potamous Hydaton’, which is Seleuceia-in-Pieria.

12. Zadok (2005), 76–107, with 80–95, a fine study of Carians in Babylon.

13. Before the new Tiglath Pileser text, ‘karun’ had been proposed by M. Astour, and reasserted by him in a letter to J. Elayi (1987), 249–66, at 263–4. S. Dalley doubts his attempted explanation of Potamoi by a putative Akkadian putamu: the name will have arisen later in the neo-Assyrian period. Greeks, I suggest, took over the word karu only, to which they added their own Greek potamoi, or better still potamou, giving the meaning ‘Trading Post of the River’. The words bit karani are also applied to Gaza and the Phoenician cities in the Assyrian texts: they do not mean that each place so called by Assyrians is Phoenician.

14. Saggs (2001), 166–7, on text ND 2737; despite Na‘aman (2004B), 69–70, the place is not Ras el-Bassit, whose eighth/seventh-century Greek contact was minimal. The site was not a Greek settlement (see my Chap. 6nn. 28–9 above).

15. Boardman (2002A), 315–31, at 323, for this much-discussed question: ‘the Red Slip of Al Mina is most probably local.’ So far as I can judge, the picture changes from Level 8 onwards, but, at first, only marginally (from the published material): Lehmann (2005), 83–4, is the most important summary so far. The ‘Red Slip’ at issue is not the ‘Samaria Ware’ which Bikai, in Coldstream with Bikai (1988), 37, summarized elsewhere: ‘there is no doubt in this writer’s mind that what was once called “Samaria Ware” is properly “Phoenician Fine Ware”.’ Boardman (2005), 278–91, at 285, insists: ‘the few other finds in the early levels seem wholly Syrian-Assyrian in origin. I know not one piece which could be proved Phoenician.’ Of course, the later levels, from 7 up, tell a different story (Level 3 had bronze coins from Arados), but they belong much later in very different circumstances.

16. Descoeudres (1978), 7–19, esp. no. 6 and p. 12. The table compiled by Boardman ( 2002 A) ,315–31, at 321, includes a tiny proportion of ‘East Greek’ before 750 BC.

17. Coldstream (2002), 15–32, at 17 n. 58, diagnoses JHS 60 (1940), 3, fig. 1, no. 1 as Attic MGI. Boardman (2005), 278–91, at 288, suggests the chronology may indeed need to be raised and if so ‘it relieves the odd situation of finding Euboean latest SPG pss cups being succeeded abruptly or even overlapping with production of pure LG skyphoi with quite different shapes and decoration’. Boardman (2002A), 315–31, at 327 n. 5, records his find on the site of a piece of a closed vase ‘which should be 9th c. at least’. Descoeudres (2002), 49–72, has a useful table of the various dates proposed for the settlement’s origins since 1938, but his insistence on p. 51 is certainly not cogent, that ‘thus, the date of 770–750 BC for the first settlement at Al Mina can now be considered as established beyond reasonable doubt, and will, hopefully, be adopted in due course across the Divide’ (his term for the discussions since 1986).

18. Donbaz (1990), 5–24; Ponchi (1991); Puech (1992), 311–34; Lipinski (2000), 215; Hawkins (1995A), 87–101, at 96, suspects the stele is a ‘pierre errante’.

19. Tadmor (1994), 56–8 and 186–7.

20. McEwan (1937), 8–16, at fig. 10.

21. Woolley (1953), 182, made bold use of Jo. Malalas, Chron. 8.15, on Kasos and Cretans, Amyke and Cypriots. Compare, earlier, Lib., Or. 11 (Antiochikos), 52–5 and 91; Steph. Byz., Ethnika (ed. Meinecke, 1849, 364), s.v. ‘Kasos’, quotes the Kasos mentioned at Hom., Il. 2.676, and links ‘Mount Kasios’, the Jebel Aqra above Al Mina, to his name. There were earlier Hellenistic ethnographers behind this link, but Stampolidis (2003), 47–79, at 52, actually believes the link was with Kasos, the island off Crete. Like ‘Amyke’ (for the Amuq plain) the name ‘Kasos’ is simply an eponym, brought into the story because of the existing Mount Kasios in north Syria.

22. Kearsley (1999), 109–34; Boardman (2002A), 315–31, at 319; Descoeudres (2002), 49–72, at 58.

23. Luke (2003) proposes this theory.

24. Luke (2003), 44, with bibliography.

25. Boardman (2002B), 1–16, emphasizes the presence of ‘handles’, but the skyphoi of this phase are not cups with pronounced feet.

26. Kearsley (1999), 109–34, proposes this theory.

27. Fuchs (1994), 325, lines 250–52.

28. Yu Treister (1995), 159–78.

29. Seyrig (1970), 290–311, at 298 and n. 1, is an important corrective.

30. Tadmor (1994), 57, Annals 25, line 10: ‘all types of herbs’.

31. Braun (1982), 25, on ku-mi-no, sa-sa-ma, krokos, kasia and so forth; Amigues (2007), 261–318, for the balsam-trees.

32. Lipinski (2000), 35–7, 51–4 (I do not accept the link with our Arimoi, however); Fuchs (1994), 423.

33. Boardman (1990B), 1–17, esp. 10: ‘the whole production might easily have been contained in a single sack’; Boardman and Buchner (1966), 1–62, esp. 61, on their non-Greek craftsmen, but ‘there were Greeks at Tarsus who could have helped on their way the many seals which passed to the West’; Huber (2003), 61, and especially Lemos (2002), 123–30, at 126, for Euboean finds; Poney, Casabonne et al. (2001), 9–38, esp. 11, for origins of the stone.

34. Momigliano (1975A), 7–8.

35. Braun (1982), 1–31, at 28: ‘most Semitic loan-words in Greek attest trading contacts only.’ Burkert (1992A), 33–40, inclines to a wider range of such words.

36. On loan-interest, Hudson (1992), 128–43, perhaps rightly; Szemerenyi (1974), 144–57, with 150 (‘agapē’) and 155–6 (‘kibdēlos’).

37. Boardman (1999B); Böhm (2003), 363–70; Kunze (1931).

38. Lebessi (1975), 169–76, at 173; Kotsonas (2006), 147–72.

39. Kantor (1962), 93–117, full of Near Eastern details; Kyrieleis and Röllig (1998), 37–75; Jantzen (1972), 58–62; Charbonnet (1986), 117–56; Held (2000), 131–4; see also now Luraghi (2006), 21–47, esp. 38–42.

40. Eph’al and Naveh (1989), 192–200; Bron and Lemaire (1989), 35–44.

41. Güterbock (1983), 155–64.

42. Lipinski (2000), 376–90, for the campaigns.

43. Lipinski (1994), 92–3, and (2000), 388–9; it went to Arslan Tash, for which see Thureau–Dangin et al. (1931).

44. Dussaud (1927), 232 and 434.

45. Charbonnet (1986), 117–56, for details.

46. Hdt. 5.99.

47. Hom., Il. 4.141–5.

48. Frézouls (1988), 15–40.

49. Ptol., Geog. 5.14.9, is simply wrong when he limits Pieria to the Amanus mountains.

50. Abel (1933), 147–58, esp. 155: ‘les colons retrouveraient aussi en quelque sorte la physionomie du pays qu’ils avaient quitté.’

51. Bell (1928), 335 and 329 (the ‘Bay of Naples’).

CHAPTER 8

The basic study is now B. d’Agostino, ‘The First Greeks in Italy’, in G. R. Tsetskhladze (ed.), Greek Colonisation: An Account of Greek Colonies and Other Settlements Overseas, vol. 1 (2006), 201–38. The main Greek evidence in this chapter is inevitably ceramic only, about fifty bits of pottery (cups, mostly) and thus no more than in the Near East in Chapter 4, down to c. 800 BC. There is not even the evidence of Lefkandi’s Toumba graves to compare with it, c. 800–760 BC. But I believe this pottery is a chance survivor, indicating other, bigger, exchanges, and in Italy too, if it is found in a tomb, it is an indicator of the dead person’s foreign Greek contacts.

An unresolved issue is the Early Iron Age chronology in Italy and adjacent regions. One view is that the most widely used schema should go ‘up’ by at least fifty years. The answers are not yet evident, but if the higher chronology prevails, the dates of the deposition of some of the Greek pottery in Italy which I discuss will go up well in advance of the settlement of Pithecussae. This dating suits the argument of this chapter very well. The main lines of the debate are set out in Gilda Bartoloni and Filippo Delpino, ‘Oriente e occidente: metodi e discipline a confronto’, in Mediterranea… Quaderni di archeologia etrusco-italica, 1 (2005), 497–660. Also in this volume, I have profited especially from Nota Kourou on the Greek imports (497–576), A. J. Nijboer on the dating problems of the Iron Age (527–56) and Massimo Botto on the dating of Phoenician settlement (‘colonizzazione’) in the central and west Mediterranean (579–630). The general discussions (631–50) are extremely helpful.

I have ignored the high dating for the inscribed ‘Nora Fragment’ on Sardinia, repeatedly urged by F. M. Cross but well re-examined by E. Lipinski, ‘The Nora Fragment’, Mediterraneo antico, 2 (1999), 667–71: ‘it confirms the Phoenician presence in Sardinia in the late ninth century, but it cannot be used as evidence that the Phoenicians were on the island in the 11th century bc.’

On the Greek side, I have not accepted Kearsley’s chronology of Euboean pendent semi-circle skyphoi although it remains current in most publications of ‘western’ material. My reasons are given in the introduction to the notes to Chapter 7 above. I accept, however, c. 780–760 BC as cardinal dates for the one-bird skyphoi (late Attic MG II to LG I), brilliantly advanced by J. N. Coldstream, ‘Some Problems of Eighth-century Pottery in the West, Seen from the Greek Angle’, in La Céramique grecque ou de tradition grecque au VIIIe siècle en Italie centrale et méridionale, Cahiers du Centre Jean Bérard, 3 (1982B), 24–7, subsequently confirmed with a Euboean origin by A. Andreiomenou, ‘Skyphoi de l’atelier de Chalcis’, BCH 108 (1984), 37–69, figs. 23–6.1 hesitate to call the type ‘exclusively from Chalcis’, because there are a few examples at Eretria. Importantly there is an (unpublished) ‘one-bird’ skyphos fragment from Al Mina now in Cambridge: Coldstream, op. cit., 25. It resembles others from Veii. As for the chevron skyphoi, Coldstream, op. cit., 22–4, set the terms of the debate, but again the pattern is now known at Chalcis too (Andreiomenou, op. cit., 37–69). The pattern is important in the west, but since Coldstream, op. cit., 22, pendent semicircle skyphoi(except on Pithecussae) are better known there too.

Uncertainties of dating mean that I have not dwelt on other Euboean pottery fragments in other parts of west Italy, which are probably datable c. 740–700 BC and thus after the first contacts in this chapter. For examples in Sabine country, see A. Guidi, ‘Cures Sabini’, in G. Bartoloni, Le necropoli arcaiche di Veio (1997), 237–8. For others at Tarquinia, M. Bonghi Jovine and C. Chiaramata Trere, Tarquinia: Testimoniaze archeologiche e riconstruzione storica… , vol. 3 (1997), 371–89.1 cannot judge links even further north, but H. V. Herrmann in ASAA 45 (1983), 271–94, esp. 281, argues that Etruscan-‘Villanovan’ items at Olympia include items also known from northern Italy, up to the Alps.

1. Hom., Od. 24.207–13.

2. Hom., Od. 24.387–90 and 366.

3. Hom., Od. 20.383.

4. Hom., Od. 24.303–7.

5. Hom., Od. 4.85–90; Dickie (1995), 29–56, at 44–5.

6. Hom., Od. 18.295–7.

7. Hom., Od. 1.52–3.

8. Pompon. Mela 3.8.

9. Hom., Od. 10.510–15, with Breglia Pulci Doria (1998), 323–36, and Antonelli (1995), 203–22, for other western-Italian theories, and West (2005), 39–64, at 55, for a Bosporan theory without, it seems, a fiery river.

10. Schulten (1922), 90.

11. Fear (1992), 19–26, at 26.

12. Tylecote (1984), 115–62, at 122–3, 129–30.

13. K⊘llund (1992–3), 201–14.

14. Lo Schiavo (2000), 141–58.

15. Matthäus (2000C), 41–76, esp. 64–9 and 64 n. 45’s bibliography; Matthäus (2001), 153–214.

16. Eder (2006), 549–80, at 568–70; Karageorghis and Lo Schiavo (1989), 15–29; Almagro–Gorbea (2001), 239–70, at 242–3, suspects the spit is Cypriot.

17. Crielaard (1998), 187–204; Almagro–Gorbea (2001), 239–70, an important study from the west.

18. Pacciarelli (1999); De Salvia (1999), 213–17; Mercuri (2004), 291–2, on (probably) Phoenician bowls in Calabria.

19. Lipinski (1999), 667–81, on the date (c. 800 BC) of the ‘Nora Fragment’. On the Nora Stone, Lipinski (2004), 234–46, rejecting Cross (1992), 13–19, although his own translation of lines 5–7 is speculative; the text may mention PMY, a god known at Kition and thus a Cypriot link; Bernardini (1996), 535–45, for other early Phoenician traces on Sardinia.

20. Bafico, Oggiano, Ridgway and Garbini (1997), 45–54; Ridgway (2006), 239–52.

21. Ps.-Arist., Mir. ausc. 838^b20; Paus. 10.17.1.

22. Malkin (1998), 64–7; Ps.-Scymn. 442–3, with Malkin (1998), 78–80, and Hammond (1998), 393–9, at 398, on Eretrians who ‘probably occupied the tip of the peninsula at Buthrotum on the Albanian coast so that they controlled the Corfu Channel’.

23. Malkin (1998), 70–72; Morgan (1988), 313–38.

24. D’Andria (1990), 281–90, and (1997), 457–508.

25. Descoeudres (1996–7), 207–31; F. Trueco and L. Vagnetti (2001), 290–91, for LG pottery later up near Sybaris.

26. Snodgrass (2000), 171–8.

27. Vosa (1978), 104–10.

28. Lo Schiavo (1994), 61–82.

29. Douglas (1928), 308, on the ‘enchantment of the straits of Messina when under certain conditions of weather, phantasmagoric palaces of wondrous shape are cast upon the waters – not mirrored, but standing upright, tangible, as it were; yet diaphanous as a veil of gauze’.

30. Bailo Modesti (1998), 367–75; Gastaldi (1994), 49–60; Kourou (2005), 497–515.

31. Brandt, Jarva and Fischer Hansen (1997), 219–31; Ridgway, Boitani and Derius (1985), 139–50.

32. Boitani (2005), 319–32.

33. La Rocca (1974–5), 86–103; La Rocca (1982), 45–54.

34. Verg., Aen. 8.95–6.

35. Ross Holloway (1994), 44–6, 68–80, for a survey.

36. Camporeale (1997), 197–9; Livy 1.14–15; Dion. Hal., Ant. Rom. 2.55; Plut., Vit. Rom. 25; Giovannini (1985), 373–87.

37. Markoe (1992), 61–84, at 71.

38. Naso (2000), 193–208.

39. Gras (1976), 341–69; d’Agostino (2004), 236, on the lagoon at Pontecagnano as a pirate-harbour; Strabo 6.2.2, citing Ephorus, for ‘ta lēstēria’ of Etruscans near Sicily before c. 740 BC.

40. Cygielman and Paganini (2002), 387–410, on Sardinians; Markoe (1992–3), 11–32, esp. 18, on the ostrich-eggs in Vetulonia T. VII (c. 750–720 BC).

41. Ps.-Arist., Mir. Ausc. 837^b3o; Serv., ad Verg. Aen. 10.172: first a foundation from Corsica, then from Volterra. Camporeale (2004), 29, on iron and Populonia.

42. Delpino (1997), 185–96; Bartoloni (2006), 375–82, and Botto (2000), 63–98, remind us of Phoenician wine-imports too.

43. Ridgway (1997), 325–44; Moretti Sgubini (2004), 150–65, adds an earlier grater in a tomb at Vulci c. 730–720 BC.

44. D’Agostino (2004), 236–51.

45. Gras (1981), 318–26, on the absence of Greek items from the main Etruscan metal-zones.

46. Ampolo (1997), 211–17; Ridgway (1996), 87–97; Bitti Sestieri (2000), 28–9, against the brilliant theories of Peruzzi ( 1992A), 459–68.

47. Dion. Hal., Ant. Rom. 1.84.5; Plut., Vit. Rom. 6.2; Plut., Mor. 320; Steph. Byz.,s.v. ‘Tabioi’; Ampolo (1997), 211–17, on the connection’s late origin.

48. Colonna (2005), 478–83; the burial might even be pre-800 BC (484), with Bitti Sestieri also intervening at 485–7.

49. Bitti Sestieri (2000), 28–9.

CHAPTER 9

The dating of Pithecussae’s foundation has long been fixed at c. 770–760 BC by the heroic excavators of the site, especially G. Buchner. Arguments were elegantly set out by M. W. Frederiksen (1984), 62–4, and afforced by a very few of the further pieces discussed by Coldstream, ‘Euboean Geometric Imports from the Acropolis at Pithekoussai’, ABSA 90 (1995), 251–67. Nonetheless, K. de Vries, ‘Eighth Century Corinthian Pottery Evidence for the Dates of Greek Settlement in the West’, in Charles K. Williams II and Nancy Bookidis (eds.), Corinth, vol. 20: Corinth the Centenary, 1896–1996 (2003), 141–56, has mounted an interesting challenge from Corinthian evidence, trying to down-date Pithecussae to the 730s. He compares chevron cups and Thapsos cups on the island with examples found in wells in Corinth. The attempted revision is not convincing. We are still left with MG II fragments to explain on Ischia; he does not engage with the arguments Frederiksen advanced even before the discovery of these MG II pieces; he does not discuss the Aetos 666 cups dated to Ithacan contexts; he ignores Cumae; he is too confident from one (distant) counter-example that Ischia’s ‘one-bird skyphoi’ should come down into the 730s BC. He also compares Ischian evidence from graves which are not those of the first settlers with Corinthian evidence of the 730S-720S, an unilluminating match. I am not alone in rejecting his suggestion. Suppose it were true: then, there would be settlements in Sicily perhaps before Pithecussae; there might be a wave of settlers for Pithecussae in the first boats fleeing Assyrian control at Al Mina in the 730s; everything would become compressed in c. 735–720 BC. My ‘trail’ of myths and objects could live with the schema, although there would be quite a gap between Pithecussae and the first Euboean cups arriving c. 800 BC in coastal Italy. But I am not alone in thinking it wrong.

The scale of the settlement is also uncertain. I incline to a very low figure: I. Morris, ‘The Absolute Chronology of the Greek Colonies in Sicily’, Acta Arch. 67 (1996), 57, suggested 4,000–5,000; R. Osborne, Greece in the Making, 1200–479bc (1996), 114, writes of ‘5–10,000 within a generation’.

The basic studies of G. Buchner and D. Ridgway, Pithekoussai, vol. 1 (1993), and the good short survey by D. Ridgway, The First Western Greeks (1992), reviewed by Ridgway with hindsight, in D. Ridgway, F. Serra Ridgway, et al. (eds.), Ancient Italy in its Mediterranean Setting: Studies in Honour of Ellen Macnamara (2000), 179–91. G. Buchner and B. d’Agostino, ‘La “Stipe dei Cavalli” di Pitecusa’, AMSMG 3 (1995), 9–100, is an essential complement, as is A. Bartonek and G. Buchner, ‘Die ältesten griechischen Inschriften von Pithekoussai’, Die Sprache, 37 (1995), 129–231.

1. Braccesi (1993), 11–23.

2. Dougherty (2001), 149–50, for a possible ‘Euboean’ Odyssey, which I reject: see my Chap. 20 below.

3. Strabo 5.4.9; Livy 8.22.6, with Oakley (1998), 628–38, for the long bibliography and the controversies.

4. Hansen (2006), 1–39, esp. 33–4: he opts for Pithecussae as a polis.

5. Frederiksen (1984), 68.

6. Xenagoras, FGrH 240, F28B; Lycoph., Alex. 691–3; Ovid, Met. 14.90; I reject Pliny and follow his ‘aliqui’ at HN 3.82; Peruzzi (1992B), 115–26, at 123 n. 18, suggests the plural refers to the archipelago. I hope that someone will eventually sort out the origins of the many Greek island names in -oussai and trace them to particular Greeks; I cannot do it myself, but for the debate see Garus Alonso (1996), 105–24.

7. Strabo 13.4.6; Serv., ad Verg. Aen. 9.712; Hesych., s.v. ‘Arimoi’.

8. Peruzzi (1992), 115–26, with Gras (1994), 127–33, but see Coldstream (2000), 92–8, at 94 with n. 40.

9. Xenagoras, FGrH 240, F28; Lycoph., Alex. 691–3.

10. Coldstream (1995B), 251–67, esp. 266; de Vries (2003), 141–56, at 147, for further pieces and a discussion which fails to eliminate their early dating.

11. Strabo 5.4.9; Buchner (1979), 129–44, at 136.

12. Petacco (2003), 37–70, is important.

13. Cantarella and de Francesco (2001), 37–54.

14. Mazzella (1593), 22, credits a discovery of alum and sulphur on Ischia to Bartholomeus Perdicus, from Genoa, in 1465.

15. Plin., HN 35.184; Diod. Sic. 5.10; Strabo 6.2.10.

16. Strabo 5.4.9; Buchner (1979), 136, for the text; Mureddu (1972), 407–9, argued for chruseia as ‘oreficerie’, but this sense is not assured by the texts he cites.

17. Ridgway (1992), 91 and 99–100.

18. Buchner (1979), 129–44.

19. Thuc. 6.2.6.

20. Justin, Epit. 18.5; Scheid and Svenbro (1985), 328–42.

21. Kourou (2002), 89–114, esp. 93.

22. Feeney (2007), 98, with J. C. Quinn also suggesting a Carthaginian ‘source’, on different grounds from mine.

23. Docter, Niemeyer, Nijboer and van der Pflicht (2005), 557–77, on bones.

24. Kourou (2002), 89–114, is a fundamental survey; on the ‘Cintas Chapel’, actually a part of the tophet, Gras, Rouillard and Teixidor (1995), 272–82, and on its local pottery, Briese (1998), 419–52.

25. Ridgway (1999A), 301–8.

26. Ps.-Scylax, Periplus in; Lipinski (2004), 338, with full bibliography; Braun (2004), 287–348, esp. 330–33, a brilliant study; Treidler (1959), 257–83; Gras (1990), 87–93; Boardman (2006A), 195–200; Kourou (2002), 89–114, at 100 n. 70, an unpublished LG import at Utica.

27. Braun (2004), 331–2, esp. n. 77.

28. Diod. Sic. 20.58.2–5.

29. Rightly stressed by Boardman (2006A), 195–200, at 197.

30. Hom., Od. 4.85–90 and 18.295–6; Dickie (1995), 29–56, at 44–5.

31. Aubet (2001), 237–42; Fletcher (2006), 173–94.

32. Aubet (2001), 231–4: she cites the island settlements of Arwad and Tyre as predecessors, but why, then, wait till c. 725 BC to replicate them in this zone of the Phoenician presence? I prefer Pithecussae as a local model, if one was needed.

33. Boardman (2004), 149–62, at 155–60.

34. Albore Livadie (1986), 189–205, at 202–4.

35. D’Agostino (1999), 207–27, for the finds and the problem; Frederiksen (1984), 61–2, for the earlier state of the question.

36. Morhange et al. (2002), 153–66, canvass a harbour on the north, but I still incline to Frederiksen (1984), 70–71.

37. Strabo 5.4.4, with Livy 6.22.5–6 and Frederiksen (1984), 59–61; I reject the suggestion that the participating ‘Kyme’ is the Kyme in Aeolia; if Ps.-Scymn. 236 is Ephoran (Jacoby prints it as 70 F134B), that discredits its favour for Aeolic Kyme still more (Ephoran patriotism will have distorted the truth). Even then, Ps.-Scymn. only mentions ‘Aeolians’ as a second phase of settlers after Chalcidians (‘proteron…’, ‘eita…’). So I disagree with Mele (1979), 28–9.

38. Coldstream (1995B), 251–67, at 252 n. 1, and, for examples, Buchner and Ridgway (1993), 700.

39. Frederiksen (1984), 69.

40. Buchner (1953–4), 37–55, esp. 52–4 (suggesting a race); Coldstream (1981), 241–9; Payne (1940), 147–8, for the similar pose on LPC pottery, but not later; for Greek riding’s influence, Lubtchansky (2005), 38–41.

41. Plin., HN 19.11.

42. Niemeyer (1990), 469–89.

43. Neeft (1989), 59–65 and 309.

44. Kourou (1988), 314–24.

45. Ridgway (1992), 62 and fig. 12.

46. De Salvia (1978), 1005; Boardman (1994), 95–100; Ridgway (2000), 235–43.

47. Coldstream (1993), 89–107; Shepherd (1999), 268–300, is good on the evidence from Syracuse, but for Ischia the older view, to my mind, still stands.

48. Colonna (1995), 325–42.

49. D’Agostino (2006A), 201–37, at 219; d’Agostino (1994), 19–27.

50. D’Agostino (2003), 75–84.

51. Docter (2000), 135–48.

52. Docter (2000), 135–48, with Aubet (2006), 35–47, at 46.

53. Tronchetti (2000), 346–51; Bernardini (1991), 613–73; Kourou (2002), 89–114.

54. Strabo 5.4.9; Walker (2004), 142, thinks that the Eretrians stayed, but expelled the Chalcidians to Cumae. Pithecussae’s subsequent ‘Chalcidian’ tradition is against him.

55. Buchner (1982A), 275–88; d’Agostino (1999), 207–27, esp. 213–17.

56. D’Agostino (1994–5), 9–100, for the possible shrines; Coldstream (1998A), 303–10, and (2006), 49–56, on plates. See my Chap. 11 nn. 4–5, for stars.

57. Buchner (1982B), 277–306, still, I think, the right line of approach.

58. Ridgway (1992), 60–61.

59. Ridgway (2000), 235–43.

60. Lemos, Archaeological Reports, 52 (2005–6), 63.

61. In essence, I agree with Murray (1994), 47–54; bibliography in Buchner and Ridgway (1993), 751–8, with the early note, too, by Page (1956), 95–7.

62. Peters (1998), 584–600; Hansen (1976), 25–53.

63. Blandin (2000), 134–46, and exhibits in the permanent display in Thessaloniki Archaeological Museum, eleventh-eighth centuries BC.

64. Murray (1994), 47–54.

65. Powell (1991), 163–7; also Watkins (1976), 25–40.

66. Ridgway (1992), 50.

67. Markoe (1985), and (1992–3), 11–32.

68. Canciani (1974–5), 84, with Buchner (1979), 129–44, at 142: it was ‘associated with an unusual footed cup, also Euboean’.

69. De Simone (1972), 490–521; Colonna (1973), 132–50.

70. Doubted by Haynes (2000), 60–61, but accepted by de Simone (1995), 283–90, at 287.

71. Maggiani (1972), 183–7.

72. Ridgway (1997), 325–44, and now Moretti Sgubini (2004), 150–65.

73. Emiliozzi (2001), 315–34.

74. Frederiksen (1979), 277–311, at 290, on ‘Rutile Hipucrate’; Coldstream (1993), 89–107.

75. Bagnasco Gianni (1999), 85–106.

76. Hesych., s.v. ‘chalkidizein’; Plut., Mor. 761A; Hdt. 1.135, on Persians; de Simone (1970), 311–30, includes ‘katmite’ in his invaluable list; Ath. 13.601E–F, on Ganymede at Chalcis.

77. Buchner (1979), 129–44, at 130–33, important for dating; Frederiksen (1979), 277–311, at 290–92: ‘essentially Greek… established beyond reasonable doubt’, despite renewed doubts by Guzzo (2000), 135–47, who also notes the two horse-bits at 139 and 141.

78. Crielaard (2000B), 499–506, at 502–3: for the silver thread, compare Bedini (1975), 370–92, at 380, on T.132 at Castel di Decima and perhaps T.68B, at 348–9.

79. Huber (2003), 129–33, on Eretrian ladies’ clothes, perhaps in a ritual context; compare Blandin (2007), vol. 2, plate 198. Coldstream (2000), 92–8, at 94 n. 48 and fig. 8, admires the ‘full, flounced skirt, recalling representations in the Late Bronze Age’, more ‘retro’, then, than dowdy.

CHAPTER 10

J. N. Coldstream, ‘Greeks and Phoenicians in the Aegean’, in H. G. Niemeyer (ed.), Phonizier im Westen (1982), 261–72, was a landmark for precise contextualized examples of Phoenician impact in the Greek world. It is instructive how some of its main suggestions now need revision, about jewellery, for instance, or Phoenician ‘factories’ of ‘black-on-red’ in the Aegean. J. P. Crielaard, ‘How the West was Won: Euboeans vs. Phoenicians’, HBA 19–20 (1992–3), 235–62, suggested ‘considerable differences in socio-economic organization’ (246). In Phoenician cities, ‘trade was probably organized through mercantile “firms” of specialist traders, which were possibly kinship-based groups, which could be extended by the incorporation of slave or other dependent labour’. I do not think we yet understand the words and texts which may bear on this question. There is a great danger of anachronistic, or partisan, translations. Socially, phratries in the archaic Greek poleis might be not so dissimilar groups. I doubt if Greek traders were less ‘flexible’ than those in a Phoenician (royal) city. My Chapters 9 and 10 also aim to blur the impression of a ‘race’ or a ‘contest’ between the two peoples in Crielaard’s striking title: his winners, incidentally, are Euboeans.

Fascination with Phoenicians and all the exhibitions about them tend to pass over the travels of ‘Levantine’, non-Phoenician objects, east and west. M. Cristofani, ‘Un’ iscrizione cuneiforme su un vaso bronzeo di una tomba di Faleri’, Stud. Etr. 39 (1971), 315–25, publishes such an item, deposed c. 650–600 BC at Montanaro. Above all, A. Onasoglou, ‘Hoi geometrikoi taphoi tēs Traganas stēn anatolikē Lokrida’, AD 35 (1981), 1–57, publishes a bronze bowl inscribed with the name ‘Muwazi’ (a former owner) which is north Syrian, in a lady’s grave c. 800–750 BC. These circulating objects probably travelled by sea with Greeks (not north Syrians) in the ‘Euboean orbit’. Tragana is near Opuntian Locris, a reminder that a ‘penumbra’ of north Syrian imports also spread onto the nearby coastline, across from Euboea. But Euboea was the centre: I do not accept the radical proposals of J. K. Papadopoulos, ‘Phantom Euboeans’, JMA 10 (1997), 191–219, which have been very widely answered and are therefore omitted in my text.

1. Hom., Il. 2.536–41; Walker (2004), 43–6.

2. Buchner (1979), 138; compare Kahil (1980), 525–31, at 530: ‘sans aucun doute… les Eubéens furent les maîtres du commerce et des échanges…’

3. Hdt. 2.44, 6.46–7; des Courtils, Kozelj and Muller (1982), 409–17.

4. Hdt. 1.105.3, Paus. 3.23.1, with J. G. Frazer’s note.

5. D’Agostino (2006B), 57–69, is now fundamental.

6. D’Agostino (2006B), 57–69, at 61, on Tomb 82; Eretrian–Euboean pottery was diagnosed, too, in the cemetery at Exochi near Lindos by Boardman, AJA 63 (1959), 398–9.

7. Schreiber (2003), 221–80, is now fundamental on the (non–Phoenician) origins of ‘black-on-red’ and its examples on Cos and Rhodes.

8. Coldstream (1969), 1–8; Zenon, ap. Diod. Sic. 5.58.2.

9. Shaw and Shaw (2000), 12–24, 92.-3, 105, 302–11, 698–700.

10. Matthäus (1998), 127–58.

11. Kourou and Karetsou (1998), 243–54.

12. Matthäus (2000B), 517–49; Matthäus (2000A), 267–80; Coldstream (2003B), 401–3, for important details.

13. Kunze (1931); Hoffman (1997), a full study.

14. Matthäus (1999), 255–60, but Burkert (2003), 135–53, suggests other origins.

15. Kondoleon (1965), 1–45, and Walker (2004), 141–82, give Eretria the first prize, unconvincingly; Bakhuizen (1976), 78 ff., gives it to Chalcis.

16. Thuc. 1.15 implies the date c. 705 BC; an earlier good overview still in Jeffery (1976), 63–70, though she was too negative about eighth-century Chalcidic allies; Parker (1997) and Hall (2007) do not succeed in advancing the subject. I must admit to dating Archilochus, too, c. 740–680 BC, despite the counterblast by Jacoby, and so Archilochus F3 West is, to my mind, contemporary with the war. Theognis 891–4 certainly does not refer to the war: the verses imply social stasis, which I connect with Periander and Poti-daea, as does Wade–Gery (1952), 61. We are certainly not dealing with a ‘Hundred Years [Lelantine] War’.

17. Ducrey, Fachard et al. (2004) is excellent; Walker (2004), 73–140; Mazarakis Ainian (1987), 3–24, and the bibliography in Blandin (2007), vol. 1, pp. 15–20, which I have used and presuppose.

18. Close–Brooks (1967), 22–4, and Christiansen (2000), 1–17, on P. D. Bröndsted and the Villanovan belt he bought in Euboea and sold to the Bibliothèque Nationale in Paris. There are a few western items in the ‘aire sacrificielle’ of Artemis, discussed in Huber (2003), 172–4.

19. Huber (2003), 170–72, with glass ‘birds’, lyre-player seals and scarabs all together here. Kahil (1980), 525–31, tentatively proposed a small cult-site of Astarte–Aphrodite too, but the suggestion is not sound: Blandin (2007), vol. 1, pp. 38–9, for a refutation.

20. Le Rider and Verdan (2002), 133–52.

21. Kenzelmann Pfyffer, Theurillat and Verdan (2005), 51–82, with Wachter, ibid., 84–6. For no. 66 (pp. 76–7 and n. 69) they suggest cautiously ‘un communicant de passage à Erétrie?’, whereas I would think of an Eretrian in my Cilician-north Syrian triangle,c.800–780 BC.

22. Johnston and Andriomenou( 1989), 217–20, with SEG 47.1963, and West (1994),9–15, at 12, wondering if the graffito is magic and claims the ‘power to deal with feminine bad temper’. Regretfully, I cannot believe her.

23. Details in Ducrey, Fachard et al. (2004); on the Eretrian cemeteries, Crielaard (2007), 169–88, importantly.

24. Coldstream (1994B), 77–86; Gisler (1995), 11–95, but Coldstream (2003B), 388, now inclines to an origin at Chalcis.

25. Crielaard (1990), 1–12, at 4–19; Csapo et al. (2000), 109–10; I think, too, of the Macedonians’ use of double axes out hunting, in JHS 85 (1965), plate 20, 2.

26. Preliminary publication by A. Psalti, who kindly showed me fuller details at the Eretria Museum.

27. Sapouna–Sakellaraki (2002), 117–49; Strabo 10.1.10.

28. Plut., Mor. 392A–B, with Thuc. 6.3.2, Hammond (1995), 307–15, at 314–15, and Hatzopoulos, BCH 114 (1990), 639–68.

29. Mazarakis Ainian (2002), 149–78, for a summary and Mazarakis Ainian (2007) for relations with Euboea; Robert (1960A), 195 n. 2, for rivalries over Oropos persisting into the tenth century AD.

30. Mazarakis Ainian (1998), 179–215, esp. 210; Hom., Il. 2.948; Strabo 9.4.4; Arist. F613 (Rose). At Thuc. 2.23.3 we should probably read ‘peraikè’ not ‘graikē’: for the controversy, S. Hornblower, Comm. on Thuc. (1991), 218–19. In general, Schachter (2003), 45–74, at 46–9.

31. Fowler (1998), 1–19, esp. 14–15: ‘it would have been very easy for the Pythia to greet her southern enquirers as “Sons of the Hellenes” ’; Hall (2002), 125–53, although a role for Olympia belongs later, surely.

32. Arist., Mete. 352^a33; on the ‘downgrading’ of ‘Graikoi’ (and Makedones) as descendants of Deucalion’s daughters (not sons), Fowler (1998), 14–15; for the mentions of Graikoi in the Hesiodic Catalogue, M. L. West (1985), 54, and, with a different emphasis, Osborne (2005), 5–24, at 8–9. On [H]ellōpia-Hellopes around Dodona and also in Euboea, Hdt. 8.23, Strabo 10.1.3–4; on Helloi–Selloi at Dodona, Hesiod F240 (M.-W.).

CHAPTER 11

The localization of myths, and the travels and western destinations of the heroes, are subjects extensively treated by Italian scholars with a command of rare ancient commentators and scholiasts and a faith in their historical value which I cannot claim to match. The excellent study of Andrea Debiasi, L’epica perduta: Eumelo, il ciclo, l’occidente (2004), is particularly important, with a valuable bibliography of the many Italian studies on similar themes, several of which bear on those in this part of my book. I have not dwelt on the obvious later example, the Hesperides and the Isles of the Blessed, as they are excellently discussed by V. Manfredi, Le Isole Fortunate: topografia di un mito (1993). The Euboeans’ mental cargo is discussed well but differently, by L. Antonelli, ‘Sulle nave degli Eubei’, Hesperià, 5 (1995), 11–24.

1. Hom., Od. 9.322, the mast; Mark (2005) is an excellent study of the many vexed questions about Homeric shipbuilding and seafaring and a source of clear, usually convincing, answers.

2. Wallinga (1993), 33–65, is important, especially on the eikosoros and the (probable) changes in the eighth century; Mark (2005), 50–69, on sewn or ‘laced joinery’ and 143–5 on rowing which, I think, he underestimates: nobody wants to row far in a strong headwind.

3. Hom., Od. 12.286–90.

4. Coldstream and Huxley (1991), 221–4; Monti (1998–9), 115–32, a very valuable article.

5. Szemerenyi (1962), 19–20.

6. Hom., Od. 12.95–7.

7. Vermeule (1979), 179; Papadopoulos and Ruscillo (2002), 187–227.

8. Graham (2001), 327–48, at 347.

9. Hom., Od. 1.430–33.

10. Hom., Od. 17.248–50.

11. Hes., Op. 633–9.

12. Crielaard (1994), 45–53, for the Euboean social context.

13. Hes., Op. 493; Burkert (2003), 135–53, for an ‘Oriental’ origin which I cannot quite believe.

14. Frederiksen, Archaeological Reports for 1976–7, 59; Blazquez (1983), 213–28, excellent on musical instruments in the far west.

15. Erskine (2001), 140–41, for sources; Kleibrink (2006), pp. x-xi, with her further bibliography, brilliantly connecting the Epeios legend with the timber temples and fine carpentry of the local Oenotrians. Unlike her I still doubt that this ‘nostos-legend’ began pre-720 BC.

16. Dunbabin (1948A), 1–18, esp. 11–18, is still fundamental.

17. Gjerstad (1944), 107–23, for sources and Iacovou (1999), 1–28, at 11–13, for recent discussion; Mitford (1971), nos. 89, 104 with 25, 65 and 66, on Perseus in Cyprus: I do not think these mythical links were started as early as the eleventh century BC.

18. Malkin (1998), 94–119, a brilliantly clear interpretation; Malkin (1999), 243–61, on Odysseus the ‘protocolonisateur’.

19. Despite Malkin (1998), 118–19, I prefer the local theory which he discusses at 112–14.

20. Malkin and Fichman (1987), 250–58, excellent on Hom., Od. 3.153 – 85. On Ithaca, Paizis–Danias (2006) is magisterial.

21. Bérard (1957) gives all the sources; Hardie (1969), 14–3 3, at 15 n. 5 (Circeii) and 22 (Baiae/Baios); West (2005), 39–64, for quite a different orientation.

22. Hes., Theog. 1015–18, with West (1966), 435–6, with whose literary (not historical) reasons I agree; Jameson andMalkin (1998), 477–86, publish Latinos in a Greek inscription datable c. 550–500 BC, but unlike them I do not think it changes the eighth-century Hesiod and his poem.

23. Wiseman (1995), 47–8, unwisely uses Nonnus (c. AD 430) to decode the original Ps.-Hesiodic reference (c. 600 BC), in Theog. 1015–18.

24. Livy 1.56.2 with R. M. Ogilvie’s comments; Polyb. 3.22.11, with F. W. Walbank’s comments; Strabo 5.3.6.

25. West (2005), 39–64, in every sense a tour de force.

26. Hom., Il. 7.467–9, knows this.

27. Morgan (1994), 105–42, esp. 135–42, on possible contributions by Eumelus, and especially West (2002), 109–34, at 118–28.

28. West (1985), 145–54; Coldstream (2003B), 146–56.

29. Chares, FGrH 125, F5.

30. Boyce (1955), 463–77, with the bibliography.

31. Gera (1993), 221–44, on Panthea; Plut., Vit. Alex. 23.9–10; Arr., Anab. 4.19.5, on Roxane and Darius’ wife.

32. Arr., Anab. 5.3.2, with A. B. Bosworth’s comments (1995), 213–17.

33. Strabo 11.14.12–14.

34. Herzfeld (1968), 334; Lane Fox (1973), 296.

35. Bernard (1997), 131–216, a superb study; Ptol., Geog. 6.10.3.

36. Arr., Anab. 6.24.2–3. For similar alleged input, Arr., Anab. 7.20.3–5, on Icaros island (now Failaka), whose name derived from a Greek version of eastern ‘Akarun’. Strabo (16.3.4) also says the inhabitants of what must be Tylos claim that ‘Tyros’/Tyre is their colony: compare Hdt. 7.89. Again, ‘the inhabitants’ may be an exaggeration. The source is probably Androsthenes, Alexander’s sea-captain, and the (over-)interpretation is his, based on the similarity of Greek names. See also now Bernard (1995), 353–408, at 393, for much more, brilliantly, on this.

37. Bickerman (1952), 65–81, at 76.

38. Nonnus, Dion. 13.468–70, with Robert (1958), 137–44, at 139–41.

39. Eur., Bacch. 13–22 and 566–75, for Macedonian context; Bosworth (1996A), 140–66, for Dionysus and Alexander.

40. Curt. 7.9.11; Plin., HN 6.49; Bosworth (1995), 31.

41. Arr., Anab. 5.1–2, with Bosworth (1995), 200–207.

42. Arr., Anab. 5.2.5–6, with Bosworth (1995), 204, on Arr., Ind. 1.4–5. For the different case, a Persian who perhaps did know Greek, see Arr., Ind. 37.2–4, and Strabo 16.3.5–7, with Bosworth (1996B), 66–70:1 still wonder if the Persian’s ‘information’ is only another exaggeration by Nearchus, as in Anab. 6.24.2.

43. Arr., Anab. 5.2.2, where my emphasis would be slightly different from that of Bosworth (1996B), 122.

44. Holdich (1910), 132–3.

45. Holdich (1910), 134.

46. Arr., Anab. 7.13.

47. Xen., An. 4.4.16; Lane Fox (2004), 184–214, at 187 n. 11; Strabo 11.5.2 (Theophanes); Plut., Vit. Pomp. 35.3; Robert (1980), 192–201, on the territory.

48. Callisth., FGrH 124, F34, surely genuine; variant versions in Arr., Anab. 2.4.3; Aristob., FGrH 139, F9 and elsewhere.

49. I extend Dalley (2003), 171–89, at 186–7,to Assyrian monuments too.

50. Wörrle (1998), 77–83; SEG 48.1561 (with good notes on the name ‘Hellaphilos’, not irrelevant to my Chap. 13 n. 55 below); Isoc., Euag. 49–50.

51. Malkin (1994), 181–7, for sources.

52. Plut., Vit. Sert. 9.3–4.

53. Plin., HN 5.2–3; Strabo 17.3.8; Roller (2003), 54 and 154.

54. Ath. 5.221 C–E.

55. Mayor (2000), 121–6.

56. Mayor (2000) is brilliant, here; see my Chapter 18; Debiasi (2004), 81–98; de Polignac (1998), 23–30, though I am unsure, still, about Hera’s early role in the west.

57. Plut., Quaest. Graec. 56; Mayor (2000), 91–3, which I quote.

58. Valenza Mele (1979), 19–51; Chap. 18 below.

59. Hom., Od. 1.351–2.

CHAPTER 12

I have chosen myths which have been tentatively linked already to Euboeans and so I can economize somewhat on detailed references. The ways in to them are their LIMC entries, vols. 3/1, 313–21 (on Daidalos), 4/1, 728–838 (by J. Boardman and others, on Herakles), 4/1, 76–92 (by M. Robertson, on Europa) and 5/1, 661–76 (on lo). Morris (1992) is very wide-ranging and thought-provoking. Its underlying theories, however, are unconvincing, that Daidalos was formed through contact with the Levant (no Greek ever says so in a surviving text: contrast Cadmus; also, see my n. 5 below) and that the Athenians then ‘kidnapped’ this figure of Levantine origin and promoted him as an Athenian figure in their own great fifth century BC (this argument is mainly based on silence before the fifth century). The collection by C. Bonnet and C. Jourdain–Annequin (eds.), Héraclès: d’une rive à l’autre de la Méditerranée… (1992), has articles of direct relevance to my theme. Mitchell (2001), 339–52, connects lo and Euboeans in a rather different way without my eastern horizon. West (1997), 442–72, is a clear summary of the case for an eastern element in the names of lo and Europa and a wide-ranging tour of conjectures about Heracles.

1. Green (2004), 40–46, excellent on the flight-plan and ‘eponymous association’: I think it accounts for Daedalus in or near Euboea.

2. Hom., Il. 18.590–92.

3. Verg., Aen. 6.14–64; much elaboration in Zevi (1995), 178–92. I do not think Daedalus’ presence here is by transfer from the eponymous Cumae in Euboea, attractively proposed by Green (2004), 45.

4. Ridgway (1994), 69–76.

5. Morris (1992), 85 and 97–8, a brilliant attempt to derive the name ‘Daidalos’ (she renders him as ‘Mr Skilful’) from the Ugaritic craft-god ‘Kothar wa hasis’, whose adjectival ‘hasis’ she renders as ‘wise’ or ‘cunning’. She thinks a Greek translated this ‘hasis’ and through ‘transmission by a calque’ came up with the Greek ‘Daidalos’. I think the names do not quite overlap in meaning and I hesitate to accept this.

6. Bendall (2007), 17; I am grateful to her for expert caution about the meaning of this place name. Morris (1992), 76–7, also warns about jumping to a link here with our Daedalus.

7. Simon (2004), 419–32, at 422, contests Morris (1992), 257–268 and 386, who claims that Athenians ‘kidnapped’ Cretan Daedalus despite his (supposed) Levantine origin. I, too, doubt Morris’s theory.

8. Best in Simon (1995), 407–13, and (2004), 419–32.

9. Paus. 8.46.2, 9.40.3–4; Dunbabin (1948B), 318; Morris (1992), 199.

10. Higbie (2003), 33, on the Chronicle 27, with commentary at 109–11.

11. Hdt. 7.169–71.

12. Diod. Sic. 4.78.

13. Perhaps at Palma: Dunbabin (1948B), 138, with Morris (1992), 201 n. 22.

14. Diod. Sic. 4.30; in general, Pearson (1975), 171–95, esp. 182–3, an excellent study.

15. Frederiksen (1984), 75, rightly, with the important 83 n. 152 against attempts to give the early credit to Hera.

16. We can compare ‘Epeios the Trojan carpenter’ at Lagaria, explaining the excellent local Oenotrian wood-working: see my Chap. 11 n. 15. Morris (1992), 204–11, tries to involve Phoenicians rather too widely in pre-Greek settlements in Sicily.

17. Dunbabin (1948A), 1–18, at 7–9, on ‘Minoa’: he wonders if the name had a Megarian ultimate origin (8), my own view (Thuc. 3.51). He adds, ‘no one would now regard Minoa as a Phoenician name’, but Morris (1992), 208–9, tries to revive it: the later signs, pots and so forth of Punic origin prove nothing. Plut., Vit. Dion. 25.6–7, for Carthaginians there, later.

18. Diod. Sic. 4.79.

19. Baurain (1992), 67–109, at 73, listing all the passages in Homer; Hom., Il. 5.392, for the wounding of Hera.

20. Hes., Theog. 290–92.

21. Easterling (1982), 15, and the (lost) Capture of Oechalia;Hom., Il. 2.730; Strabo 10.1.10.

22. Burkert (1998), 11–26, at 18–19.

23. Burkert (1992B), 111 -27; Nergal is obviously important, here; Annus (2002).

24. Boardman (1998), 27–36.

25. Hes., Theog. 290–94.

26. Verg., Aen. 8.280–305.

27. Macrob., Sat. 3.6.12–17, citing Varro and others; also 1.12.28; Plut., Quaest. Rom. 60, with H. J. Rose’s notes; Sabbatucci (1992), 353–6, for problems of origins.

28. Brize (1985), 53–90, plates 15–24: an important discovery.

29. Jourdain–Annequin (1992) is very important.

30. Jourdain–Annequin (1992) and Yon (1992B), 145–63, at 150–54, on ‘le jeune dieu/homme au lion’ on Cyprus and at Amrith. It is clearly wrong to call him ‘Melqart’ as he has such a different iconography.

31. Bonnet (1988), 97–9.

32. Hdt. 2.44. It is guaranteed in Greek inscriptions much later; Yon (1992B), 158, and Fraser (1970), 31–6, on Heracleides names from Kition, with a bilingual text of Heracleides-‘bdlmlqart’ c. 200 BC. But this is only an accident of survival in the light of Herodotus and others.

33. Bonnet (1988), fig. 6 (the image) and 399–409, but the ‘colonizing’ Heracles is only a sixth-century BC phenomenon in Greek sources and I doubt this aspect of him led to the association with Melqart.

34. Hdt. 2.44, with A. B. Lloyd’s comments, ad loa; Bonnet (1988), 233–6.

35. Diod. Sic. 5.20; Sil., Pun. 3.31–2.

36. Braun (2004), 287–348, at 287–303, is now fundamental; Stesich., Geryoneis F184; Strabo 3.2.11.

37. Aesch., F199, with Plin., HN 21.57 and Braun (2004), 287–348, at 299.

38. Hecat., FGrH I, F77.

39. Phot., Bibl. 142B; Hecat., FGrH 1, F76.

40. Diod. Sic. 4.24.1. for Heracles’ favours near Leontini which included the great lake, the Arabs’ Biviere, drained later by Mussolini. It has needed a Borghese, a lady, to make a great garden there in Heracles’ wake since the 1960s.

41. Ps.-Scyl. 66; Damastes, FGrH 5, F4.

42. Hecat., FGrH 1, FF39, 41 and 35b.

43. Pind., Nem. 4.111; Braun (2004), 287–348, at 301–2, with Diod. Sic. 4.18.4–5.

44. Strabo 3.5.5–6, with Braun (2004), 287–348, at 302.

45. Chap. n.

46. Valenza Mele (1979), 19–51.

47. Hardie (1969), 14–33, at 17 n. 12 rightly dating the roadway after the foundation of Dicaearchia (c. 525 BC).

48. Sabbatucci (1992), 353–6.

49. Theophr., Hist. pi. 1.9.5: I say ‘where’ because the text says ‘epi’ (surely ‘by’, not ‘in’), yet Plin., HN 12.11, says ‘under’ (‘sub’). Le Rider (1966), 14 n. 1, for the controversy; van Effenterre (1961), 544–68, at 564 n. 8.

50. Mitchell (2001), 339–52, is important here; Steph. Byz., s.v. ‘Argoura’.

51. West (1985), 144–54, and Dowden (1989), 118–21, and (1992), 77, are decisive here.

52. [Aesch.], PV 645–57; Hes., F124 (West–Merkelbach).

53. Moret (1990), 3–26.

54. Aesch., Supp. 45; 313–15; 535; 1066, and West (1997), 443–5, for all sorts of their possible parallels; I agree that Jeremiah 46: 20 is only a coincidence.

55. Dowden (1989), 117–46, at 134, and (1992), 108–9; West (1997), 443.

56. Mitchell (2001), 339–52, at 345–8, with an interpretation which differs from mine.

57. Verg., Aen. 7. 789–92.

58. [Aesch.], PV 840–41; Mitchell (2001), 339–52, at 341–4, though the link with Dodona is rather different; Bonnafé (1991), 133–93, is good on Io’s route in this play.

59. Hdt. 2.41.2; [Aesch.], PV 814–15, where ‘makran’ is explained by 774 and 853; Asheri (2001), 27–38.

60. Strabo 16.2.5.

61. Lib., Or. 11.44–52.

62. Jo. Malalas, Chron. 2.29.

63. Eustath. on Dionys. Per. 92.

64. Burkert (1992A), 160 n. 18.

65. Ath. 15.678B; van Effenterre (1961), 544–68, at 564–5 n. 9.

66. Paus. 9.5.8 and West (2002), 109–34, at 126–8.

67. Ephorus, FGrH 70, F120.

68. West (1997), 448–50, for the suggestion made first in 1646; I do not believe his own ‘Phoenician’ theory (450).

69. Hdt. 7.91, for Cilix; Steph. Byz. is rich in local legends of this sort: s.v. ‘Itanos’, ‘Cythera’, ‘Melos’; Bunnens (1979), 258–61.

70. Callim. F11 and Nonnus, Dion. 44.113–18; Ap. Rhod. 4.516–18.

71. Arr., Anab. 2.24.2; Eur., Phoen. 291, for the syngeneia; Bickerman (1939), 91–9, brilliantly on Sidon’s view of it.

72. Pomtow (1918), 26–8, at 26, and corrections by Wilhelm (1974), 76–9.

73. Eur., Phoen. 1060–61; I have written at more length on this in an article ‘The First Hellenistic Man’, to appear in 2008–9.

CHAPTER 13

The Near Eastern sources known up to 1990 are excellently surveyed and discussed by J. Vanschoonwinkel, ‘Mopsos: Légendes et réalité’, Hethitica, 10 (1990), 185–211. In 1950 even M. J. Mellink, in BO 3 (1950), 149, was caught up in excitement about a Bronze Age Mopsus: ‘it is not difficult’, she wrote, ‘to predict what Mopsus’s pottery looked like’, envisioning typical LM III C pots as known in Cilicia. In fact, none existed. From the other pole of interpretation F. Prinz (1979, see below) concluded (25 n. 23) that ‘to identify MPS/Mks [known at Karatepe] with the Mopsus of Greek legend is wholly perverse’. But I equate the two again here, albeit in a different way. The nearest I have since found to it is R. Baldriga, ‘Mopso tra oriente e Grecia: Storia di un personaggio di frontiera’, QUEC 46 (1994), 35–71, but he is wrong about the role of ‘Callinus’ and wrong about Mopsus at Ascalon too.

The new Cilician inscriptions have been exciting. It is now believed that the Phoenician text of a trilingual inscription on a damaged relief of the Storm God, found in 1986 at Ivriz near Konya, north-west of the south Cilician plain, mentions Wrk/(A)warikku, possibly c. 730 BC. The initial publication was by Dinçol (1994), 117–28, and we wait for more detail on this member of the ‘house of Mopsu/Mopsos’. I am most grateful to H. C. Melchert for his philological expertise on the names involved. He kindly sent me a copy of a conference paper (to appear) by N. Oettinger on ‘The Seer Mopsos (Muksas) as a Historical Figure’, which concludes that in him ‘a ruler of the “Dark Ages” becomes historically manifest. Maybe he was part of the Sea Peoples’. From classicists I expect works on ‘Writing the Bronze Age: Cultural Poetics, Social Memory and Reception’, equating the deceptive ‘Hiyawa’ with Achaeans. But this chapter aims to refute them in advance.

1. Frei (1993), 39–65; Hom., Il. 6.155–205.

2. Hes., Theog. 285–6.

3. Robert (1977), 88–132, at 112; Jameson (1990), 213–23, for the Argive origin.

4. Dunbabin (1953), 1164–84; Haas (1994), 326, plates 53A–B.

5. Already suggested by Bossert (1952–3), 293–339, at 333; Frei (1993), 39–65, at 48–9, and now Hutter (1995), 79–98.

6. Katz (1998), 317–34, especially 325–6, for ‘[B]ellerophontes’ as a snake-killer.

7. Hogarth (1910), in; Malten (1925), 121–60.

8. Lalaguë-Dulac (2002), 129–61, esp. 130.

9. Casabonne and Porcher (2003), 131–40, at 131–3; Amandry (1948), 1–11, on fire-breathing monsters; Dunbabin (1953), 1164–84, still valuable on hybrid animal-monsters.

10. The earliest surviving text linking the chimaera and the Lycian ‘fire’ is Ctesias, FGrH 688, F45. Steph. Byz., s.v. ‘Tarsos’; Dionys. Per. 868–70.

11. Robert (1977), 88–132; Dio Chrys., Or. 33.1 and 47; Piérart (1992), 223–44.

12. Momigliano (1975B), 9–19.

13. Burkert (1992A), 46–52 and 75–9.

14. Hom., Od. 17.383–5.

15. Burkert (1992A), 52.

16. LIMC, vol. 6/1 (1992), 650–52, with evidence for ‘Mopsos I.’ Ap. Rhod. 1.1086, Paus. 5.17.10 and LIMC, vol. 6/1, 652 no. 6 (from Olympia); Hes., [Sc.] 191; Pind., Pyth. 4.189–91; Strabo 9.5.22.

17. Strabo 14.4.3; Paus. 7.3.2; Pompon. Mela 1.88; Scheer (1993), 164–8.

18. Strabo 14.4.3 where ‘Callisthenes’ is the correct reading, not ‘Callinos’, as has been established by the palimpsest text in Aly (1956), column iii.32 and p. 206. This cardinal point, repeatedly overlooked (e.g. Scheer, 1993, 177), is also seen by M. L. West in his edition of Iambi et Elegi Graeci, vol. 2 (1992), 50; also, as a source, Steph. Byz., s.v. ‘Pamphylia’.

19. Prinz (1974), 23–4, is excellent here; also Parke (1985), 113–21.

20. LIMC, vol. 1, 713–19; Hes. F279, on a death at Soloi, killed by Apollo; Strabo 14.5.16 cites Sophocles; Lycoph., Alex. 444.

21. Goetze (1968), 36–7 and 140; KUB 14, 1 reverse 75.

22. Hawkins (2000), 45–70, and Çambel (1999), 62–88; Bron (1979).

23. Euseb., Chron., ap. Jerome (ed. R. Helm, 1984, 60): ‘Mopsus regnauit in Cilicia a quo Mopsicrenae et Mopsistae.’ The underlying (Hellenistic) source took 1184 BC as the date of Troy’s fall. Jerome–Eusebius adopts the alternative ‘1182 BC’, giving the impression (wrongly) that Mopsus’ Cilician kingdom began before Troy fell.

24. Barnett (1953), 140–43; compare CAH, vol. 2/2 (1975), 363–6.

25. Otten (1969), 32–3; rightly dating this text before 1420 BC.

26. Hawkins (2000), 49: column II.7–11; in his ‘Karatepe 3’ (89) he is called ‘[M]ukatalas’ son’.

27. Lemaire (1983), 9–19.

28. Mosca and Russell (1987), 1–28.

29. Tekoglu and Lemaire (2000), 961–1006, esp. 973–4 n. 6; Dinçol (1994), 117–28, reporting ‘the Ivriz text’.

30. Arr., Anab. 1.26.4; Ps.-Scymn. 75; Polyb. 21.24; Strabo 14.667 and 671; Stroud (1984), 193–216, at 195 line 7.

31. Theopomp., FGrH 115, F103; Bossert (1957–8), 186–9, 461–3 and plate 22, arguing that it is ‘Pahri’.

32. Gurney (1976), 38–43.

33. Plut., De def. orac. 434D; Bossert (1950A), 122–5, with Abbildung 1, showing the spring.

34. Tekoglu and Lemaire (2000), 961–1006, at 968 paragraphs I, II, III and VII with 106; Brixhe (1976), 147–8 and 191, has an optimism about the Greek language in eighth-century BC Pamphylia which I reject. The allegations of ‘Argive’ origins there are all much later in date and tendentious.

35. Hdt. 7.91; Casabonne (1999), 69–88, at 71; Lebrun and de Vos (2006), 45–64, at 47–9, incline, wrongly, to the identification.

36. Otten (1988), 61–2.

37. Weiss (1984), 179–207, at 181–2. Scheer (1993), 187–98: the Magnificent Seven include Calchas, too, as a founder for whom Hdt. 7.91 is the source. They also include ‘Rixos’: attempts to identify him with ‘[A]warikus’ would be excessive; Scheer (1993), 196, notes the oddity of this person, however. ‘Rhakios’ is an even less plausible ‘[A]warikus’ in Greek: Scheer (1993), 182.-7, for his Greek origins.

38. Robert (1960A), 177–88, brilliant on Callim., Aet. F200A, with Pfeiffer (1949), 198. Brixhe (1976), 194–5, proposes a date after 400 BC, perhaps even 300 BC.

39. Houwink ten Cate (1961), 44–77, suggested a link between Azitawattas and ‘Estwedus’ (Aspendos). I doubt the link with Sanduarri proposed by Winter (1979), 115–52, at 146.

40. Theopomp., FGrH 115, F103; Plin., HN 5.96; Scholiast on Dionys. Per. 850.

41. Callisthenes (not Callinus) in Strabo 14.4.3.

42. Xanthus, FGrH 765, F17A, and Nic. Dam., FGrH 90, F16; Lightfoot (2003), 65 and n. 166.

43. Bérard (1891), 556–62, a Moxoupolis in Cabalis, which has been linked with Lydia, although it is far from Sardis; Suda, s.v. ‘Moxos Lydos’; Houwink ten Cate (1961), 46, is not convincing.

44. Lipinski (2004), 116–30, especially 119–22; H. C. Melchert has kindly confirmed to me the philological obstacles to this connection.

45. Gauthier (2003), 61–100; Piérart (1984), 161–71, on Notion as ‘Colophon-on-Sea’.

46. Lycoph., Alex. 1047; Malkin (1998), 226–31.

47. Mopsus (surely from Claros) and Torrebus (for Lake Karios) on coins of Hierapolis in Phrygia in the second century AD: Robert (1982), 334–57, at 346–7; J. and L. Robert, Bull. Épig. (1967), 582 and Robert (1962), 314–16.

48. Philostephanus, in Athen. 7.297F-298A; Prinz (1979), 28–30.

49. Stroud (1984), 193–216, at 195 line 7; Polyb. 21.24; Strabo 14.667 and 671.

50. Callisth., ap. Strabo 14.4.3.

51. Theopomp., FGrH 115, F103; Callisth., in Strabo 14.4.4.

52. Arr., Anab. 2.5.8–9.

53. Stroud (1984), 193–216; the decree belongs in the context, I think, of Argos’s symbolic prominence in the new Argive–Argead era of Macedonian successor ‘kings’; I am tempted to connect it with the marriage at Argos of Demetrius and Pyrrhus’ sister Deidameia in 303 BC. Asian cities in the Antigonid sphere might well like to link themselves with Argos, the Macedonian ‘mother-city’, recently in the news after this Antigonid wedding: Plut., Vit. Dem. 25.

54. IG 4.480; Stroud (1984), 193–216, at 215–16, not, however, explaining the link with Perseus’ infancy.

55. Arr., Anab. 1.26.2–27.4; Strabo 14.667C; Eustath., on Dionys. Per. 852.

56. Lycoph., Alex. 444; Bossert (1950A), 122–5.

CHAPTER 14

Adonis has been massively studied by many scholars and I refer only to the clear and very valuable summary of his death and return in Mettinger (2001), 113–54, with a history of interpretation which has somewhat escaped recent classical scholarship. M. M. Fritz (2003) is a major work of value on the Mesopotamian background until the Assyrian era and I have been much helped by it. Burkert (1979), 105–111, has superb endnotes and is a masterpiece of concise insight. At 107 he remarks of Adonis on Cyprus that ‘probably matters were still more complicated than we suspect’. No doubt they were, but I stand by the local Cypriot connection I construct here, though the evidence is late and indirect. One approach is to emphasize flexibility, invented ‘tradition’ and change at every turn, hidden from us across two thousand years of cult. In this case I am more impressed by strong continuity which is not just an antiquarian illusion.

1. Apollod., Bibl. 3.14.4, with further sources cited by J. G. Frazer in the Loeb edn. of Apollodorus (1921), vol. 2, pp. 84–7.

2. Frazer, op. cit., 84 n. 1, with Suet., Calig. 57.9, and Joseph., AJ 19.94–5.

3. Parthenius F29, with Lightfoot (1999), 181–5; Zoilus, FGrH 758, F9; Catull. 95.5–6 and Wiseman (1974), 49.

4. Apollod., Bibl. 3.14.4, probably using Panyassis throughout; Ribichini (1981), 148–9, on Greek heroic elements; Theoc, Id. 15.153–6, with Gow (1950), 265.

5. Origen, Sel. in Ezech. 8.12 = PG 13.797–800; Jerome, Expl. in Ezech. III, 8.14 = PL 25.82–3; Will (1975), 93–105, tried to dismiss them as late ‘Christianizing’ readings of the cult, but I entirely agree with Mettinger (2001), 130: ‘nothing in these passages indicates that they contain a Christian misreading of the pagan material.’

6. Atallah (1966) with Weill (1966), 644–98, and (1970), 591–3; on the gardens, still Sulze (1926), 44–50, and (1928), 72–91; on the probable use of corn, Atallah (1966), 211–13; Baudy (1986) is wonderfully down to earth (Samenprüfung) but not the answer; Detienne (1970) is wayward and best left to one side. On the date, Cumont (1932), 257–64, and (1935), 46–50; I discount Ar., Lys. 3 8 7 ff. and therefore Dillon (2003),1–16; ‘topless’, Theoc., Id. 15.134–5, with Gow’s notes on the fall of the dress, but not on the breasts (except their dative case).

7. Sappho F140A (Campbell); Seaford (1994), 279–80, is excellent, here.

8. Dioscor. in Anth. Pal. 5.53 and 5.193, with Theoc, Id. 15.135: ‘stëthesi phainomenois’.

9. Ar., Lys. 387–95, with Plut., Vit. Ale. 18.2–3 and Vit. Nic. 13.7. So much is merged impossibly here (the ‘Zacynthian hoplites’ of Thuc. 7.31.2) and the context suits a totally inaccurate account by the (pompous) Proboulos. I thus disagree with Dover–Andrewes,HCT, vol. 4 (1970), 223–4; the lines do not show that the Adonia really coincided with this assembly in (?) late spring. The Plutarch passages are secondary.

10. Sefati (1998) and Fritz (2003), for evidence.

11. Kramer (1966), 31, and Alster (1996), 1–18, thereby refuting the lucid scepticism of Gurney (1962), 147–60.

12. Richter (1999), 133; Kutscher (1990), 29–44; Matsushima (1993), 209–19; Buccellati (1982), 3–7.

13. George (2003), 834.

14. Fritz (2003), 339–41, on dates; 354–9, women; 105–6, prostitutes.

15. Frazer (1913), 3.

16. Mettinger (2001), 141–3; Fritz (2003), 361–8.

17. Fritz (2003), 104–6, with bibliography on ‘Ishtar’s Descent’ and its final surviving lines.

18. Mettinger (2001), 125–8, a lucid summary; Ribichini (1981), 94–8, contested the reference to Tammuz, I think wrongly.

19. Fritz (2003), esp. 354–9.

20. Strabo 16.2.18, with a cautious Millar (1993), 275–8; contrast, rightly, Ribichini (1981), 145–59.

21. Bordreuil (1977B), 23–7, a very important study; Mettinger (2001), 140–41.

22. Cleitarchus, FGrH 137, F3.

23. Luc, Syr. D., superbly studied by Lightfoot (2003).

24. Luc, Syr. D. 6.

25. Theoc, Id. 15.13 5–6, and Lightfoot (2003), 319–26, admirably, on Luc, Syr. D. 6.

26. Luc, Syr. D. 8, with Lightfoot (2003), 316–18, on the date.

27. Frazer (1913), 28; Ribichini (1981), 159–63; I am very grateful to Matthew Nicholls for careful drawings and photographs of the site.

28. Melito of Sardis, Apology 5, an important text here; Lipinski (1995), 104–6.

29. Cumont (1935), 46–50.

30. Gaber (1994), 161–4; no early archaic finds have been made here.

31. Steph. Byz., s.v. ‘Golgoi’; Lycoph., Alex. 589; Paus. 8.5.2 (implying a very old shrine there); Hermary (2004), 47–68, an excellent study; Connelly (1988), 75–7;Karageorghis (2000), 106–3 3,708–20 and406–30,for superb pictures.

32. Hermary (2004), 47–68, at 51–2, with Text 68 in Connelly (1988), 17–20.

33. Ptol. Chennos, in Phot., Bibl. 190; Menardos (1908), 133–7, which I owe to Connelly (1988),17,and her advice. I merely differ from Menardos by deriving modern Arsos directly from the (lost) ancient Argos without the detour through ancient alsos which he proposed (234).

34. Theoc, Id. 15.97, with the Scholiast: ‘adëlon tis hë poiëtria autë’; Gow, commenting, correctly insists ‘Argeia’ is an ethnic.

35. Paus. 2.20.6 (an oikētna for Adonis, only).

36. Hermary (2004), 47–68, at 56 (very important, including her cult in Golgoi, surely in the Aphrodite temple); Anastassiades (1998), 129–40, for more texts; Hermary ( 2004 ), 5 8, on the new early Ptolemaic division of the territory, making a ‘“district” placé sous la protection d’Aphrodite’ in which ‘Golgoi joue désormais un rôle non négligeable’. I link this new role and new district to Ptolemy II, reflecting the importance of Queen Arsinoë; Reed (2000), 319–51, pursues a different line.

37. Schmidt (1968), 54, and Connelly (1988), 18–19.

38. Eissfeldt (i97o);Mettinger (2001), 124–7 and 140–41.

39. Pap. Petrie 3.142, with the bold tour de force of Glotz (1920), 169–222; Gow (1950), 262–4; Stol (1988), 127–8, andesp. Scurlock (1991), 3.

40. Paus. 9.41.2, a hieron archaion; Steph. Byz., s.v. ‘Amathous’; Pirenne–Delforge(1994), 3 31–2 and 3 63–6, stresses that evidence of Adonis on Cyprus only goes back to Roman-period texts, but not that those texts already remark that some of the shrines are ‘ancient’.

41. Torelli (1997), 233–91; Müller (2000), 26–41, arguing that Phoenicians brought ‘Adonis’ to Sicily; Balduin (1997), 107–37, a trace there.

42. Lee (1999)51–31, where I struggle to recognize even a Pulsatilla, the wrong flower, strictly, as the Adonis anemone should be the scarlet Anemone coronaria; sadly I cannot recognize it, either, in the sculpted crowns of the Cypriot priestesses in Cassimatis (1982), 156–63, although their flowers include narcissi.

43. Mettinger (2001), 146–8, trying to distinguish ‘death and sterility’ in the gardens in Greece from ‘green’ ones in the Levant: I disagree. I also distinguish (as many do not) the ‘short-lived’ gardens from gardens which were allowed to wither before being thrown out: the latter are implied, but not until Julian, Caesars 329C–D, a late and stylized passage.

44. Porphyry, on Euseb., Praep. evang. 3.11.12, is important. He contrasts Attis, a symbol of flowers which bloom before fruiting, and Adonis, who represents the ‘cutting of completed fruits’. Compare Amm. Marc. 22.9.15. Porphyry is not a literary fantasist on these cults. Burkert (1979), 107; Winkler (1990), 188–204, quite unsustainable.

45. Burkert (1979), 107: he also sees the lament as partly ‘counteracting the guilt of success in playacting catastrophe in order to avert it’ (121). I disagree.

46. Also seen by Davies (1999), 152–7: the ‘gap between the ideal and the mundane, the elevated and the trivial’. Fritz (2003), 354–9,onDumuzi-Tam-muz and, independently, female ‘Sehnsucht nach der Ideal’.

47. Euseb., Vit. Const. 3.55–6; Euseb., Triac. 8.4–6, exaggerated into a total ‘spying’ operation against all caves and shrines in Euseb., Vit. Const. 3.57.4, with Barnes (1981), 390 n. 20, for more. I am not discussing the ban on prostitution at Heliopolis, however.

48. Genesis 18:1–33, a great episode; Miller (1984).

49.Philostr., VA 1.7; Euseb., C. Hieroclem, passim; Dagron and Feissel (1987), 137–41, on the important verses inscribed on an architrave in this general period at Mopsuhestia, as they verify (140), not actually at Aigai itself. But they testify to Apollonius’ local fame.

50. Jerome, Ep. 58.3; Paulinus, Epist. 31.3 (blaming Hadrian); Koortbojian (1995), 49–62; Versnel (1993), 154.

CHAPTER 15

The material here is less familiar to classical historians, but is excellently discussed in scattered non-classical publications to which I am greatly indebted, although I add, I hope, a few extras to them. The studies cited below by C. Bonnet (1987), W. Fauth (1990) and K. Koch (1993) are particularly helpful. The article by P. Chuvin and J. Yoyotte (1986) is especially valuable for the contributions by L. Robert. I have gained above all from the local knowledge and linguistic expertise of P. Bordreuil in his studies which I cite. W. Djobadze (1986) is the indispensable hero of archaeology on the mountain, but not, as yet, of the ash-altar on the very summit which I was able to see briefly in 1997 in its militarized zone. Earlier studies of the Graeco–Roman evidence by A. Salač, ‘Zeus Kasios’, BCH 46 (1922), 160–89, and A. B. Cook, Zeus, vol. 2 (1925), 981–6, were valuable, but did not go back into the non-Greek roots or forward into Christian antiquity. In my view, the mountain’s district ‘Kassiotis’ solves simply and neatly the problem of the enigmatic ‘Alexandreia hē kabiôsa’ or ‘Kabissos’, lengthily discussed, without a solution, by P. M. Fraser, Cities of Alexander the Great (1996), 21–3. The corruption of the name is very slight: ‘Kassios’ or perhaps ‘Kassiotē/-tis’ (my n. 29). It then neatly matches, and explains, the ‘Alexandreia hē Kasos’ in the Chronicon Paschale which Fraser relates only to the island ‘Kasos’ off Crete (contrast my Chap. 7 n. 21 for ‘Kasos’ as the eponym of Mount Kasios). This solution is not unimportant. It would restore an alleged Alexandria to the Orontes plain (below Mount Kasios) as a ‘rival’ or counterweight to the great Seleucid Antioch. It would thus fit well with the (still controversial) theory of Fraser that the fictitious Alexandrias in these lists were Ptolemaic fabrications created in order to diminish the Seleucid achievement. One of the big gaps in this theory is the absence of evidence for a counterweight to the Seleucids’ great Antioch: ‘Alexandreia hē Kasos/Kassiotē’ fills it very well.

1. Buxton (1992), 1–15.

2. ‘Potamoi Hydatōn’, predecessor of Seleuceia, surely explains Chuvin (1988), 99–110, at 108 n. 19, and Jo. Malalas, Chron. 8.207.

3. Amm. Marc. 22.14.4.

4. Barker (1853), 273, and Amigues (2007), 261–318, on plants; Djobadze (1986), fundamental for the setting.

5. Bordreuil (1990), 257–67.

6. Ainsworth (1838), 305, calculated the mountain’s height with his barometer by climbing it and checking with Lieutenant Eden, RN, stationed at its foot; for problems with the barometer, however, pp. 10–11.

7. Stadiasmos Maris Magni, 143, and Dussaud (1927), 421.

8. Kapelrud (1952), 56–9; Koch (1993), 171–224, at 185–97.

9. Bordreuil (1991), 17–27, a brilliant study.

10. Rutherford (2001B), 598–609.

11. Schaeffer (1938), 323–7, and the superb plate 36.

12. Bordreuil (1989A), 273–4, and (1989B), 275–9; Koch (1993), 171–224, at 199–207.

13. Strabo 16.2.8.

14. Seyrig in Djobadze (1986), 203, with his 4–5.

15. Seyrig (1939), 296–301, and Antiquités syriennes, vol. 3 (1946), pp. v-vi, with a significant correction. Chuvin (1988), 99–110.

16. Polyb. 5.58; OGIS 245.

17. Seyrig, Antiquités syriennes, vol. 3 (1946), 28 n. 4.

18. Butcher (2004), 413–25.

19. Seyrig (1963), 17–19.

20. Seyrig (1933), 68–71, much discussed by Millar (1993), 1–15, but not with the (to my mind) likely connection to Zeus Kasios: Seyrig (1963), 19, was also cautious.

21. Robert (1963), 179 n. 9, (1969), 1583, and in Études déliennes, BCH Suppl. 1 (1973), 442–3. We can compare the names Kasiodoros and Kasios in A Lexicon of Greek Personal Names, vol. 2, giving three Antiochenes, an Apamean and a Milesian in Athens; Seyrig (1963), 31 no. 34, has a Bar-sephones; Bordreuil (1989A), 274 n. 41, has an Ali Nanu; Zadok (1978), 59, has a Harusapanu. ‘Orophoric’ mountain names here are ancient and long-lived: Richter (1998 A), 125–34, esp. 129–30, on earlier ‘Hazzi’-based names.

22. J. C. Baity in LIMC, vol. 8/1, 666–70, summarizes the problems well; the main sources are Nonnus, Dion. 25.135, 33.296, 41.236; Baity (1981), 95–106, and Daszewski (1986), 454–70, exploit a mosaic in Paphos; Bower-sock (1990), 51, slips slightly, concluding’the victory of Cassiopeia represents the triumph of the gods associated in particular with Cassios, the Mons Cassios in Lebanon [sic]’, but the general link is probably correct.

23. Varinlioglu (1986), 23–4: however, (i) ‘akrotatou’ rules out his preference for the (flat) Kasion in Egypt. The reference is to north Syria; (ii) ‘isamēria’ is not the equinox, but a day with equal halves, divided by the sun above Mount Kasios at midday.

24. Augustine, Ep. 26.

25. Anth. Pal. 6.332; Arr., Parth. F36A; Dio Cass. 68.25.5.

26. Haas (1982), 117, on offerings of ox-horns; Hist. Aug., Vit. Hadr. 14.3 (a suspect part, however, of this variable Life); Dio Cass. 69.2.1; Birley (1997), 230.

27. Amm. Marc. 22.14.4; Julian., Mis. 361D, and especially Lib., Or. 18.172, claiming a sighting ‘in broad daylight’.

28. Peeters (1909), 805–13; Djobadze (1986), 5–6 and 203.

29. Van den Ven (1962), esp. 200^∗-211^∗ and the valuable map at the end of vol. 2. At vol. 2, p. 139 n. 2, I disagree about the topography of the ‘pleura kassyotē’. It lay, surely, at the Jebel Aqra.

30. Brown (1995), 66, a cardinal insight: ‘Symeon stood on the limestone ridge as a highly personalised challenge to the ancient pilgrimage site on the top of Sheikh Barakat.’ My point is that ‘Symeon the Younger’, his avowed imitator, did the same with Mount Kasios, a point missed, however, by Van den Ven, vol. 1, pp. 170^∗-177^∗.

31. Bonnet (1987), 101–43, esp. 102–12; Koch (1993), 171–224, at 199–211.

32. Fauth (1990), 105–18, at 116–17.

33. Yon (1991), 284–8; Eissfeldt (1968), 53–7; Koch (1993), 171–224, at 185–9; Fauth (1990), 105–18, at 117, on the iconography (it does not show Seth).

34. Luckenbill, vol. 2 (1927), no. 587.

35. Bordreuil (1986), 82–6.

36. Aimé-Giron (1940), 433–60; Bonnet (1987), 101–43, at 12.1–2 n. 113.

37. Psalm 48: 1–2; Koch (1993), 171–224, at 173–82.

38. Bonnet (1987), 101–43, at 115–16, on Psalm 89: 13–14; for a later replacement of Yahweh by Baal (taking his revenge?), Nims and Steiner (1983), 261–74.

39. Exodus 14: 2; Numbers 33: 7; Lane Fox (1991), 78–80, with bibliography.

40. Chuvin and Yoyotte (1986), 41–63, at 42; Fauth (1990), 105–18, at 110–18; above all, Verreth (2000), 471–87.

41. Verreth (2000), 471–87, for the problem; Cazelles (1955), 321–64, and Dothan (1969), 135–6, for differing views on it.

42. Eissfeldt (1932), still a classic; Diod. Sic. 16.45.5 and 20.74.2–3, with 1.30.4–9.

43. Hdt. 2.6 and 3.5.

44. Hdt. 2.179.

45. Verreth (2000), 471–87, for full details.

46. Plut., Vit. Ant. 3.5–6.

47. Suda, s.v. ‘Kasiotikē amma’.

48. Chuvin and Yoyotte (1986), 41–63, at 50–51; Birley (1997), 235–7.

49. Chuvin and Yoyotte (1986), 41–63, at 59–61.

50. J. and L. Robert, Bull. Épig. (1972), no. 223; Kostoglou–Despini (1971), 202–6; Plin., HN 4.19.

51. Suet., Ner. 22.

52. IG 9.1 (2001), 845; the bibliography on 842–7 is all relevant.

53. IG 9.1 (2001), 844.

54. Procop., Goth. 4.22.25–9.

CHAPTER 16

I have not included three traces of Cronos in the eastern ‘triangle’ which I discuss because they are not directly connected with the Euboean trail of this chapter. However, they support Cronos’ local ‘image’. One is found at the future Flaviopolis (near modern Kadirli) in the north-east of the Cilician plain up the Pyramus river in the general area of the lands formerly ruled from Karatepe. Coins there show a veiled Cronos with a sickle, discussed by L. Robert in La Déesse de Hierapolis Castabala (1964), 25–6: they are surely an echo of the old themes of the ‘song of kingship’ and allude to Cronos–Kumarbi’s role in it. For the same reason coin-images of Cronos continued to appear in south-west Cilicia near the Corycian cave, noticed by T. S. MacKay, ANRW 18/3 (1990), 2102–3. Down in Phoenician Arados, Cronos is also honoured, probably because of his congruence with Phoenician stories of their gods: L. Robert discusses him and his grim overtones in his Opera Minora Selecta, vol. 1 (1969), 601–3, ‘le grand dieu phénicien mangeur des enfants’. A district of the city was even named after him.

On the dominant ‘golden age’ aspects of Greek Cronos, not relevant to my chapter, W. Burkert, ‘Kroniafeste und ihr altorientalische Hintergrund’, in his Kleine Schriften, vol. 2 (2003), pp. 154–71, wonders if festivals of Cronos were spread in the eighth centuryBC on an axis through Naxos, Samos and Colophon. Plato played from time to time with this alternative ‘golden age’ Cronos (most brilliantly in the Statesman 271–4). The most memorable allegory of Cronos and the grim succession stories occurs in his (neo-) Platonist followers, brilliantly explained by P. Hadot, ‘Ouranos, Kronos and Zeus in Plotinus’ Treatise Against the Gnostics’, in H. J. Blumenthal and R. A. Markus (eds.), Neoplatonism and Early Christian Thought: Essays in Honour of A. H. Armstrong(1981), 124–36. I am glad to be able to omit the Cronos sections of the text in the Derveni Papyrus, columns 13–15. Despite earlier vivid claims that it described Zeus swallowing Cronos’ penis (a novel twist to ‘Sex and Succession’), it is now clear that the true text was less dramatic and had no such meaning: T. Kouromenos et al., The Derveni Papyrus (2006), 133–4, and the comments on 25–8.

1. Gibson (1978) and, above all, Smith (1994), especially 1–116.

2. Haas (2006), 130–76, is now fundamental, replacing even the invaluable English translation by Hoffner (1998). Of course, these stories had an even earlier Hurrian life, but I have omitted it, for simplicity’s sake.

3. Barr (1974), 17–68, is still indispensable; Edwards (1991), 213–20.

4. Rutherford (2001B), 598–609, is essential; Haas (2006), 151–2 and 212–13; Akdojan and Wilhelm (2003), 214–31, esp. at 223–7, for the Hurrian background and offerings, too, to the nearby peak of ‘Mount Nanos’ in the Jebel Aqra’s range.

5. Rutherford (2001B), 598–609, establishes this point.

6. Smith (1994), esp. 63–9, doubting previous theories of a ‘seasonal’ connection; the local weather does make me suspect one, as it does, too, Yon (1989), 461–6. De Moor (1970), 302–27, at 306, even suggests a continuity of spring rites, extending to those in Jo. Malalas, Chron. 198.22.

7. Staudacher (1942); West (1966), 212–13.

8. Haas (2006), 170–72, for the well-known text.

9. Haas (2006), 134–40, esp. 139, for the latest translation.

10. Hes., Theog. 154–210 and 453–506, with West’s fine commentary.

11. Hes., Theog. 476.

12. Güterbock (1946) saw the detailed overlap; Osborne (1996), 142–3, incidentally, does not engage with the Hittite texts as they are now more fully understood.

13. Burkert (1987), 10–40, at 22.

14. Haas (2006), 133: Kumarbi as ‘Gerstengott’.

15. Nilsson (1951), 122–4, though opposed by West, on Hes., Theog. 205.

16. There are many sickle-like cutters in Near Eastern imagery and stories too: Bordreuil and Pardee (1993), 63–70, and especially Sahin (1999), 165–76, ‘der Gott mit der Sichel’.

17. Hainsworth (1993), 65, on Hom., Il. 9.37.

18. Karageorghis (2003), 353–61, and also Karageorghis and Karageorghis (2002), 263–82, postulating a ‘birth’ from Athart–Astarte, becoming ‘Aphtos, then Aphrodite’ in Greek. I accept this origin.

19. Hes., Theog. 192–5.

20. Hdt. 1.105.

21. Philo, FGrH 790, F2, 29.

22. RE, vol. 5/2 (1905), 1698; Leake (1830), 414: ‘the name was often applied by the ancients to low, sandy promontories which, by the action of currents in the sea upon the deposits of rivers, assume the form of a drepanon, or sickle.’

23. Thuc. 6.4.5; coins in Robinson (1946), 13–20, nos. 24–7, struck on a Euboic–Chalcidian standard.

24. Freeman (1891), 390.

25. Callim., Aet. F43, 57–75, with Pfeiffer (1949), and his exhaustive notes.

26. Fraser, vol. 1 (1972), and vol. 2 (1972), 1071 nn. 348–9, for this source. Ehlers (1933) did not engage with it, or with the high authority of the Aristotelian local sources; nor does Massimilla (1996), 339–48, still thinking that Callimachus ‘invented’ the Cronos-story at Zancle.

27. LIMC, vol. 6/1 (1992), 143–4; Ciaceri (1911), 66–76, is excellent here.

28. Vallet (1958), 59, the ‘problem’; d’Agostino (2006A), 201–37, at 221: ‘in truth [sic] the enterprise must have originated with Pithekoussai when Cumae did not exist’; Antonelli (1996), 315–25; Consola Langher (1996), 377–415.

29. Thuc. 6.4.5, specifying ‘Kumē en Opikiai’ as the first founder (‘archēn’) and the ‘Euboian crowd’ as later back-up (‘husteron’). Its foundation is later than the ‘first’ Naxos, emphasized at 6.3.1.1 reject the later Diod. Sic. 13.59, Ps.-Scymn. 283–6, and, in Sicily, Strabo 6.268, which lack Thucydides’ (undented) authority.

30. Callimachus’ ‘mowing’ echoes Archil. F138B; Hesych., s.v. ‘gypas’.

31. See Chap. 8 n. 17 above on ‘Essex castrators’.

32. Steph. Byz., s.v. ‘Drepanē’; W. Ruge, in RE, vol. 5/2, 1698; Mango (1994), 143–58; Vianu (2004), 78–86.

33. Paus. 7.23.4, with the acute Leake (1830), 414, and Philippson, in RE, vol. 5/2, 1698.

34. Hammond (1967), 418 n. 1.

35. Arist., F512 (Rose); Callim., Aet. F14.

36. Scholiast on Ap. Rhod., Argon. 4.984 ff.; Vian (1981), vol. 3, pp. 29–37, on Apollonius Rhodius archly reacting to Callimachus’ location of the sickle; Antonelli (2000).

37. Acusil., FGrH 2, F4; Alcaeus F441 (Campbell) would, if correct, take the idea back to c. 600 BC.

38. Ptol., Geog. 5.14.1; Hogarth (1889), 10–19; Bakirtzis (1995), 247–53.

39. Myres (1940–45), 99.

40. Lycoph., Alex. 869, with the Paraphrasis (P) and in E. Scheer (ed.), Lycophron, Alexandra, vol. 1 (1881), 75, and the Scholiast on Lycoph., Alex. 972.

41. Paus. 8.8.3; compare Plato, Resp. 377e-78a.

42. Wind (1968), 128–37.1 do not think that Botticelli owed any direct debt to the high theorizing of Ficino. Politian, Giostra 1.99, is nearer his level, and in the right milieu; for Politian’s learning, including Hesiod and Nonnus, Vian (2005A), 609–20, a fine study; on the roses, Wind (1968), 137 n. 27, without wondering what type of rose they are. The answer is probably a variety of Rosa damascena, current in the garden of the Villa Medici, at Fiesole (Galletti, 1986, 50–90, suggested ‘alba incarnata’, a name which is no longer in botanical use, but is nowadays our ‘Great Maiden’s Blush’; it is too double a rose to be Botticelli’s). As for the shell, it would be lovely to accept its identification with the ‘fossilised sea-shells’ which occur on Venus’ island of Cythera. They are strikingly similar, but despite Tsoukala (2001), 277–301, at 288–9,1 cannot believe that Botticelli knew this directly.

CHAPTER 17

Nobody, I think, has fully untangled Typhon before, but I was glad to find so much on the Cilician location in Houwink ten Cate (19 61). It was particularly gratifying on a visit to the recently opened Archaeological Museum on Ischia in 1999 to meet by chance on the steps Professor Giovanni Castagna, who kindly presented me with the most recent number of La Rassegna d’lschia, 20/1 (June 1999), containing his article ‘Pithekoussai “Testa di Ponte” del mito di Tifeo in Occidente’, 3–10, the nearest I had read to some of the views on Typhon which I brought with me. At home, in the benighted Cotswolds, such local Rassegne would merely contain articles on sheep-tracks and mullioned windows. It is a tribute to the persistent local patriotism and antiquarianism of these Italian regions. There may be more such local understanding in the books of S. Di Meglio, Ischia, storia e leggenda (1961) and I toponimi greco-latini dell’isola d’lschia (1960), unavailable in Britain.

Typhon is the ultimate origin of our ‘typhoon’, as is brilliantly explained by Bonnet (1987), 101–43, at 138 n. 222, with bibliography and a tour via the Far East.

1. Merlat (1960), 1–98; Vanel (1965); Speidel (1978), 3 n. 1, importantly corrected by Seyrig, Syria, 47 (1970), 93 n. 4; Hörig (1984), 2131–79.

2. Versnel (1993), 90–135, at 101–2; Leglay (1966).

3. Versnel (1993), 90–135, detects a fruitful ‘inconsistency’; I explain it, rather, by historical accretions to Cronos (originally a ‘golden age’ god) who also became a child-eater (through Kumarbi). Through this side of his persona, he was then the god who could explain the horrible non-Greek behaviour in the Phoenician world or the warlike cults in Anatolia. In the main Greek world, this horrible Cronos was not cultically prominent.

4. Robert (1978B), 3–48, a brilliant digression on peripheral cults of Cronos and Cronos the Titan as a ‘founder’ on the rocky Lycian heights of Tlos.

5. Haas (2002), 230–37, argues for the stone being set up and worshipped at Bronze Age Ebla. Even if so, other cults elsewhere would always be possible.

6. Butcher (2004), 413–25.

7. Djobadze (1986).

8. Day (1985), for a survey.

9. Hes., Theog. 304–7 and 820–81.

10. Watkins (1992), 319–35, more briefly than Watkins (1995); Katz (1998), 317–34, is full of interest.

11. Hoffner (1998), 10–14; Beckman (1982), 11–15; Haas (2006), 97–103, with more bibliography.

12. Haas (1994), 696–747.

13. Gordon (1967–9), 70–82.

14. Delaporte (1940), plate 22; Houston Smith (1965), 253–60.

15. Siegelova (1971), a groundbreaking study; Haas (2006), 153–6; Haas, Salvini et al. (2004), vol. 1, p. 19.

16. Houwink ten Cate (1991), 83–148, esp. 117–19, a fine study to which I owe much.

17. Oppian, Hal. 3.7–8 and 3.208–9; Houwink ten Cate (1961), 207andn. 2.

18. Nonnus, Dion. 1.137–2.712; Robert (1977), 88–132, at 113 n. 129, a classic which unfortunately left no mark on Hopkinson (1994).

19. Apollod., Bibl. 1.6.3, with Zuntz (1951), 12–35, esp. 31 n. 142, another neglected classic.

20. Oppian echoes Hittite Version 1, while Apollod. and Nonnus echo Hittite 2, as explained in Houwink ten Cate (1961), 209.

21. Vian (1978), 157–72, a brilliant overview of Nonnus. Nonnus’ Cadmus is traceable to a source, Pisander of Laranda F15 (Hutsch), but I also think there is a toponymie relevance: see n. 27 below.

22. Strabo 13.4.6; West (1966), 251; Vian (1960), 19–38, at 20; compare G. S. Kirk, The Iliad: A Commentary, Books 1–4 (1985), 243: ‘it is clear that ancient critics did not know which particular region this signified.’ By Chap. 19 nn. 1–2 below, my readers, I trust, will know better.

23. Xanthos, FGrH 765 F13; Strabo 13.4.6, with West (1966), 250–51.

24. Arundell (1828), 262, which I owe to the brilliant pages in Robert (1962), 287–317, at 304–5 n. 1, on the ‘Pays brulé’: his own photographs show it in plates 27–8.

25. Nonnus, Dion. 13.474–87, with Robert (1963), 297–312, and Robert (1958), 37–44.

26. Hdt. 1.93; Lycoph., Alex. 1353; above all, Robert (1982), 334–57.

27. Arundell (1828), 260: ‘I was much struck, I might almost say horrorstruck.’ I am also awestruck by Vian (1978), 157–72, on the digression suddenly inserted by Nonnus in Dion. 1.153: Vian acutely sees a separate local source-tradition and endorses the location of its cave, smoking and white-topped, with Hierapolis (modern Pammukale); note, too, Nonnus calls it the ‘Mygdonian Gorge’ and equates the general area with Phrygia. Cadmus’ role can, I think, be related to the local river Cadmos, the origin, therefore, of his presence in this episode (the Cadmos mountains nearby are also relevant). Pisander of Laranda certainly involved him, and may be the entire source, but Nonnus draws on Xanthus of Lydia elsewhere and I wonder if Xanthus is not the original source of this ‘Lydian–Phrygian’ episode too. Vian, commenting on Nonnus, Dion. 1.153 (Budé edn., 144 n. 153), is a starting-point for study of this typical Nonnian enigma.

28. Strabo 16.4.27: Arima is ‘tēn Surian autēn’.

29. Strabo 13.4.6 and 16.2.7; Scholiast on Hom., Il. 2.783.

30. Strabo 16.2.7; Jo. Malalas, Chron. 7.83C.

31. Bonnet (1987), 101–43, at i33~4; Tadmor (1994), 294; Fuchs (1994)5422.

32. Strabo 16.2.8, the ‘spēlaion to hieron’, for which see Dussaud (1927), 425. It needs an archaeologist.

33. Pind. F93; Pind., Pyth. 1.17 and esp. 8.16.

34. Callisthenes, FGrH 124, F33.

35. A clue to the name’s Hittite overtones, perhaps, in Otten (1988), column 1, 24–6: an Arimmatta is linked there to a ‘watery abyss’, for which see Gordon (1967–9), 70–82, and above all Hawkins (1995B), 45, brilliantly decoding the Hittites’ interest in the big sacred pool and pit (route) to the underworld at their complex at Hattusa. This is not Callisthenes’ Arima (which is far south, by the coast), but I wonder, or even suspect, that the same ‘Arima’ name may have been applied there too because of its remarkable natural ‘watery abyss’.

36. Garstang and Gurney (1959), 54, lines 40–48 of the Sanassura Treaty. I am grateful to O. R. Gurney for pursuing in detail the suggestion I put to him, one of the last such ever. He (not I) observed that Forlanini (1988), 145, had raised it, albeit in general terms. Casabonne (2004), 71 n. 243, considers ‘Erimma’ as Callisthenes’ ‘Arima’ to be ‘une hypothèse sujette à caution’ because the boundary given in the Sanassura Treaty is ‘Lamiya’, in his view the place Lamos, not the Lamos river. If ‘Erimma’ lies by the Corycian cave, he finds it hard that it is given by this treaty to ‘Kizzuwatna’ on the other (east) side of the boundary-line. Boundaries are not always logical, and in my view it shows the value the Hittites placed on this site with its ‘watery abyss’ and so, against geographic logic, they kept it. O. R. Gurney was still willing to accept the identification, on less elaborate grounds. The area needs prolonged excavation, after survey again around the cave’s well-known site. I believe it contains (neo-)Hittite evidence.

37. Keil and Wilhelm (1931), 214–18, well worth enjoying. Bent (1891), 206–24; MacKay (1990), 2045–2129, a good survey with bibliography and the cave’s discovery at 2104 n. 239.

38. Lucan, BC 3.226; Strabo 14.5.5 (‘krokos aristē’); Dioscor., Mat. Med. 1.26 (‘krokos kratistos’); Galen, On Antidotes 1.14 (he inspected it ‘akribōs’); also, interestingly, the tireless Dionys. Per. 387; prices in Dagron and Feissel (1987), 175, and, above all, Robert (1960B), 334–5 nn. 2–4, a tour de force. Ironically, in view of the ‘hunt’ for the cave, V. Langlois presented the winner, Tchihatchev, with a saffron crocus, but from the wrong Cilician ravine: Robert (1976), 190–91 and n. 42.

39. Bent (1891), 206–24, at 213.

40. Pompon. Mela 1.13; Bent (1891), 206–24, at 214.

41. Bent (1891), 206–24, at 2.12.) J. and L. Robert, Bull. Épig. (1974), 612.

42. Parth. F29, with Lightfoot (1999), 181–5. On Cinna, see Catull. 95.5, discussed remarkably by Leigh (1994), 181–95, who is unfortunately indifferent to the cave and its topography: it has nothing to do with Adonis or Virgil’s Old Man of Tarentum.

43. Wrongly copied as ‘Zeu Paphie’ by Bent, but corrected by Heberdey and Wilhelm (1896), 154.

44. Solin., Coll. Rer. Mirab. (ed. Mommsen), section 38.3 (pp. 162–3), gives a remarkably good description of the cave; I believe him, therefore, when he adds ‘in eo sacrum Iovis est fanum’; Dagron and Feissel (1987), 44–5 nos. 16 and 17, for Zeus Epineikios honoured nearby. Houwink ten Cate (1961), 212–13, for tne various honours locally for Hermes, too.

45. Feld and Weber (1968), 254–67; MacKay (1990), 2045–2129, at 2105–8; Keil and Wilhelm (1931), 214–19 with plates 50–54; Bell (1906), 7–36, at 30–31.

46. Pompon. Mela 1.13; Keil and Wilhelm (1931), 214–19; Casabonne and Porcher (2003), 131–40, at 131–2, with a diagram.

47. Callisth., FGrH 124, F33, shows he talked to locals; Curt. 3.4.10 where the cave (with crocuses) and other sites ‘monstrabantur’, perhaps by local informants as recorded in an Alexander-historian, not just in Curtius’ own rhetoric.

48. Houwink ten Cate (1961), 212–13, with 130–31.

49. Oppian, Hal. 3.7–14; Dagron and Feissel (1987), 45 n. 5, on his local origins; Oppian, Hal. 3.24–5, on bloodstains.

50. Gough (1976), 435; MacKay (1990), 2045–2129, at 2085–6. At the pre-Christian tower by the ravine, one priest was ‘Teucer son of Tarkyaris’: his patronym derives ultimately from Tarhunta the Storm God.

51. Imitating Hawkins (1995B), 45, and his sacred pool.

52. Houwink ten Cate (1961), 212, catches the right tone: ‘there is a strong argument in favour of the Illuyankas myth being the cult-myth of Corycus.’ He wrote, however, before the Hedammu story, an even better candidate, was known.

53. Bonnet (1987), 101–43, at 132.-43, but I doubt her derivation of the name from the mountain. The Semitic root sp‘- on her p. 136 is more promising (Houwink ten Cate, 1961, 210 n. 7, also endorsed a Phoenician origin for the name).

54. Strabo 13.4.6; Fowler (2000), 307; Pherecydes F54, with a possible detour through the Caucasus.

55. Pind., Pyth. 1.16–19; for mY translation here of ‘hyper’, compare, for example, Thuc. 8.95.5.

56. De Caro and Gialanella (1998), 337–53; Albore Livadie (1986), 189–205, at 202–4.

57. Strabo 13.4.6; Hesych., s.v. ‘Arimos’; Serv., ad Verg. Aen. 9.712; Bonfante and Bonfante (2000), 71 and 124 n. 35. I cannot agree with the derivation from ‘pithoi’ (‘Vaseburgh’) preferred by Ridgway (1992), 36. I also reject the ‘explanations’ given by Cerchiai (1996), 141–50.

58. Pind., Ol. 4.6–7; Pyth. 1.19–20 and F92.

59. Pind., Pyth. 1.16–17 (‘Pote’), 19–24 and 28 (‘melamphyllais’).

60. Duchemin (1956), 150–53, calls Pindar a ‘témoin oculaire’ and compares his poem with the eruption of 8 July 1955. I quote Duchemin (1995), 49–67, at 54–5.

CHAPTER 18

The identity of Giants’ bones is brilliantly pursued by Adrienne Mayor (2000), though without Euboeans and an eighth-century trail. In Macedon, Greece, my researches on the ground have been fortified by help from Professor Evangelia Tsoukala of Aristotle University, Thessaloniki and her scientific researches which have had such brilliant results. In myth and poetry, the studies by F. Vian (1952 and 2005) rise to the challenge of the subject. O. Waser’s remarkable article ‘Giganten’ in RE Suppl. 3 (1918), 655–759, is a superb collection of evidence. My trail connects the pieces available, from prehistoric teeth to fragments of Greek poets, in a new way.

1. Nonnus, Dion. 2.628–30; Vian (1978), 157–72, at 159, thinks aptly of local guides pointing out this monument.

2. West (1966) on Hes., Theog. 149 and 817–19; Scholiast on Ap. Rhod., Argon. 1.1165, is especially important, also citing Ion and Eumelus, on whom see West (2002), 109–34 at 111–12.

3. Solin. 11.16; Scholiast on Ap. Rhod., Argon. 1.1165; Steph. Byz., s.v. ‘Karystos’; Hesych., s.v. ‘Titanida’.

4. Ael., VH 5.3; Arist. F678 (Rose); Parth. F31; I quote Lightfoot (1999), 192.

5. Mele (1981), 138–9; Gras (1992), 27–44, at 34–5.

6. Callim., Hymn 4.143; Vian (2005B), 192–203; another gigantic Aigaion had a ‘tomb’ at the mouth of the Rhyndacos river in Mysia, for which see Ap. Rhod. 1.1165 and Vian, Notice in the Budé edn., vol. 1, pp. 28–31; on the landscape, but not the tomb, Robert (1980), 89–98.

7. Vian (1952B), 20–29 and 169–74; Hes., Theog. 185–6.

8. Solin. 11.16 calls Euboea ‘almost wholly the land of Titans’. West (2002), 109–34, at 117 n. 36.

9. Waser (1918), 655–759, at 737–59, a remarkable work. So is Vian, LIMC, vol. 4/1 (1988), 191–270, esp. 268–9, partly based on Waser.

10. Hom., Od. 7.56–60 and 204–6; 10.120–22.

11. Vian, in LIMC, vol. 4/1 (1988), 210–11.

12. Eur., Ion 215–18.

13. Ar., Av. 823–5 and 1249–52.5 with Dunbar (1995), 7–9 and ad loca; Bowie (1993), 58–66, rather adventurously on Ar., Eq.

14. Plato, Soph. 246–8.

15. Artem. 4.47.

16. Vian (1944), 97–117, and (1952A), 129–55.

17. Camassa (1986), 133–62; Strabo 1.2.12–17; 6.1.5.

18. Eust.,on Dionys. Per. 919; Paus. 8.29.4; Waser (1918), 655–759,31751–2.

19. Genesis 6: 1–4; Numbers 13: 33; Deuteronomy 3:11.

20. Robert (1960), 313 n. 2, on coins of Acmoneia and Brouzos showing Zeus with two Giants, explained by Robert in terms of two local mountains which show a ‘stream’ of big boulders (the work of Giants); for these, Philippson (1911), 75–6.

21. Mayor (2000), a brilliant book to which I owe much.

22. Jo. Malalas, Chron. 8.16.

23. Mayor (2000), 198.

24. Riis (1970), 85–6; Moorey (1999), 118.

25. Paus. 8.29.4; Jones (2000), 476–81, for dating.

26. Strabo 5.4.6.

27. Hamilton (1776), 68.

28. Philostr., Her. 8. 15; Jones (2001), 141–9.

29. Waser (1918), 655–759, at 738–9.

30. Dio Cass. 66.23.1; compare 66.22.2.

31. Pisano (2003), a splendid study.

32. Frederiksen (1984), 354.

33. Schnapper (1986), 177–200, another brilliant study; de Toleto (1539).

34. Strabo 6.3.5; Pisano (2003), 40; Ps.-Arist., Mir. ausc. 97: ‘the smell is so bad that the sea is not navigable’; Lycoph., Alex. 1356–8; Timaeus underlies them, as Geffcken (1892), 15, also saw.

35. Cremonesi (1978), 9–10; Blanc (1958–61), 308–13.

36. Just., Epit. 44.4.1; Paus. 10.4.6.

37. Claud., De Rapt. Proserp. 3.332–50.

38. Hdt. 7.123; Apollod., Bibl. 1.6.1; Lycoph., Alex. 1404–8.

39. Vian (1952B), 180; 226 (‘aucune trace de manifestations volcaniques’).

40. Solin. 9.6; Philostr., Her. 10.28.

41. Tsoukala and Melentis (1994), 633–40: I am so grateful to E. Tsoukala for all her help with her remarkable discoveries which underlies nn. 42, 45, 46 and 47 below. I quote Mayor (2000).

42. Tsoukala and Bartsiokas (in press), kindly sent in proof to me.

43. Comiers (1692), 82–131, a remarkable contribution: the giant is mentioned by Schnapper (1986), 177–200, at 188–9.

44. Schnapper (1986), 177–200.

45. Tsoukala (2003), in full colour.

46. Tsoukala (2007), again in colour; Tsoukala and Lister (1998), 117–39, a straight-tusked elephant, and Tsoukala (2000), 165–91, a mammoth.

47. Tsoukala (1992), 79–92, with helpful distribution map.

48. Paus. 8.29.1 and 8.32.5, with Frazer (1898).

49. Mayor (2000), 99 and 298 nn. 36–7.

50. Already guessed, but at the wrong date, by Vian (1952B), 221: ‘les colons eubéens, après l’avoir localisé en Chalcidique, l’ont transplanté aussi à Cumes dès la fin du Vlème siècle?’ My role is to remove his question mark and change his ‘VI’ to ‘VIII’.

51. Vokotopoulou (1996), 319–28; Hammond (1998), 393–9.

52. Plin., HN 7.73.

53. August., De civ. D. 15.9.

54. 4 Ezra 5: 2.

55. Céard (1978), 37–76, a fascinating study.

56. Hom., 11. 21.407.

57. Deuteronomy 3:11.

CHAPTER 19

Odysseus’ lying Cretan tales have been much discussed. A historically plausible context is emphasized by T. F. R. G. Braun, ‘The Greeks in Egypt’, in Cambridge Ancient History, vol. 3/3 (1982), 32–56. I differ from the precision of W. Burkert, ‘Der Odyssee–Dichter und Kreta’, in his Kleine Schriften, vol. 1 (2001), 127–37, who considers (133) that the’lying tales of Odysseus, in so far as they show reality, fit through and through in the years between 738 and 664 BC’. The limits are rather more widely spaced, I believe.

1. Verg., Aen. 9.708–16; Ravaglioli (1985), 932; Hardie (1994), 224–5, is only rather general.

2. Hom., I1. 2.460–63.

3. MacLair Boraston (1911), 216–50, at 249–50.

4. Gialanella (1996), 251–68; Ridgway (1992).

5. Hom., I1. 19.96 and 416, with W. Teaf’s excellent comments.

6. Hom., I1. 24.615; Paus. 1.21.3; André Salvini and Salvini (1996), 7–20, with 9 n. 14 on the modern impostor, now shown locally.

7. Stinton (1976), 60–89, esp. 65: such a phrase ‘frequently introduces mythical exempla, the point being to invoke the authority of tradition’.

8. Hom., Od. 14.191–362, 15.389–484; Paizis–Danias (2006), 11–96.

9. Hom., Od. 14.199–245.

10. Hom., Od. 14.257–84; Gould (1973), 74–103, esp. 95.

11. Acts 12: 7 and Eur., Bacch. 442–7, with Celsus, in Orig., C. Cels. 2.34; Parker (2004), 131–53.

12. Hom., Od. 19.172–80; Hom., Il. 2.645–9; Burkert (2001), 127–37; compare Hom., Od. 19.188.

13. Hom., Od. 3.291–300.

14. Evans (1928), 88–92.

15. Shaw (2006), an excellent summary of the major excavation-volumes, esp. Shaw and Shaw (2000); for the sand-spit and a possible (later?) sea-wall, Shaw (2006), 55 and 57.

16. Shaw and Shaw (2000), 709–11 and 728 nn. 62–8; Amyclaion is also the suggestion of A. Chaniotis with Steph. Byz., s.v. ‘Amyclaion’, to support it; Kitchell (1979–80), 129–34, has refuted the supposed city-name ‘Lisse’.

17. Shaw (2006), 51, on ‘the largest waves… built up by an onshore west wind, usually during the winter months’: the Notos at Od. 3.295 is not, strictly, a due-west wind. Heubeck, West and Hainsworth (1988), 179, are not accurate in implying that the ‘Komo’ location requires Homer’s ‘smooth rock’, ‘cape’ on the left and ‘small rock’ to be all one and the same.

18. Gubel (2007), 111–17.

19. Aubet (2001).

20. Shaw (2000), 1107–19; Shaw (2006), 139–40 (important additions).

21. Lipinski (2004), 182–4, for an Egyptian reading of the text, a rather bold one.

22. Csapo (1991), 211–16, at 215.

23. Hom., Od. 13.256–86, 17.415–44.

24. Hom., Od. 17.420–44, with Emlyn–Jones (1986), 1–10, esp. 7–9, on the changes in the ‘pattern’ to suit the speaker’s social context.

25. Hom., Od. 4.228–32.

26. Hom., Od. 4.124–30, with Coldstream (1998C), 5–19, at 11 and 14 n. 63, on a similarity between Penelope’s throne and one from Nimrud, and a (questionable) tracing of its creator’s name, Ikmalios, to a Phoenician origin; better still, compare Karageorghis (2002B), 164, with fig. 341 from Salamis, T. 49.

27. Walcot (1977), 1–19.

28. Danek (1998), with bibliography.

29. Hom., Od. 15.397–487.

30. Hom., Od. 14.139, 15.490. ‘Ēpios’ is not discussed by Finley (1956), 136–57, among Homeric ‘morals and values’.

31. Moorey (1999), 79–81; Todd (1993), 236–48, at 236; Schaeffer (1939), 99–100, on ‘amber’ beads at Ugarit; Beck (1979), 15–17.

32. Lorimer (1950), 67, rightly rejected by Dunbabin (1957), 35 n. 2, but I cannot follow him in explaining Homer’s usage by biblical ‘parallels’ as if Tyre and Sidon are interchangeable.

33. Katzenstein (1973) was openly partisan about Tyre; Lipinski (2004), 17–36, and Fletcher (2004), 51–77, for elements in favour of Sidon.

34. Markoe (1985). Some of these bowls may be made by Cypriots, others by ‘north Syrians’.

35. Vandorpe (1995), 203–39, at 211 n. 52, on the name ‘Thebes’; Burkert (1976), 5–21, has been influential on supporters of a seventh-century Homer, but I do not believe it, nor (the author kindly tells me) does he any longer. Kelly (2006), 321–33, revives the case that Hom., Il. 9.381–4, is based on the Late Bronze Age.

CHAPTER 20

For a different view of Homer and his ‘debt’ to the ‘Oriental’ sources, M. L. West, The East Face of Helicon ( 1997), is essential. Its chapter on Hesiod (276–333) amplifies West’s brilliant commentaries on the Theogony (1966) and the Works and Days (1978). I can only offer a different emphasis, one which impressed me before finding that P. Walcot, Hesiod and the Near East (1966), had ended by considering Euboean connections, albeit with a different range of Near Eastern sources and in a different way. W. Burkert,Babylon, Memphis, Persepolis (2004), gives an admirably concise account of the main ‘contacts’ currently upheld by scholars between Homer and items in Near Eastern texts. Froma I. Zeitlin, ‘Apollo and Dionyos: Starting from Birth’, in H. E. J. Horstmanshoff, H. W. Singer et al. (eds.), Kykeon: Studies in Honour of H. S. Versnel (2002), 209, differs totally from me about Delphi’s claims to what she (mis)describes as Cronos’ ‘obstetrical feat’: she sees ‘an attempt to transform Delphi into a place of male maternity, especially considering the name Delphi itself as related to the word for “womb” (as are dolphins who figure in the Homeric Hymn)’. Actually, Cronos vomited up the stone.

1. Hom., Od. 7.54–63, 7.206, 10.120.

2. Hom., Il. 5.898, with Kirk’s comments.

3. Burkert (1992A), 92–3.

4. Hom., Il. 14.200–10.

5. Hom., Il. 1.590–94, 18.395–9; the rope, at 8.19–27.

6. Hom., Il. 5.898, with G. S. Kirk, The Iliad: A Commentary (1990), 3: ‘references to Kronos imprisoned below the earth show the Homeric tradition to have been aware of the Succession-myth describing the violent displacement of the first generation of gods’. Aware, yes – Hom., Il. 8.479–81 or 14.279 – but not explicit about it or emphatic about any of it.

7. Hom., Il. 20.385–92; Griffin (1986), 31–57, at 53.

8. Philippson (1911), 11–12, and Robert (1982), 334–57 at 341.

9. Radet (1893), 13: ‘très poissoneux’, and Philippson (1911), 11 and also 12: after an hour’s walk north to the ‘Kum Tschai’, he found a crystal-clear stream and spring ‘in dem zahlreiche Fische spielen’. The naming and course of the upper Cam Çay is a complex matter, hinted at by the Barrington Atlas, map 56, and I cannot pursue it here.

10. Chap. 17 n. 26.

11. Morris (1997), 595–623, at 623.

12. West (1997), 622–3.

13. West (1997).

14. Hom., Il. 7.445–63: West (1995), 203–19, and (1997), 377–80. When he asks ‘where did the poet of the Iliad get the idea of diverting rivers against a wall to wash it away? This could never be a natural idea in Greece’, he overlooks Xen., Hell. 5.2.4–7, where Agesilaus, at Mantinea, had not been reading Assyrian sources. For his other (‘Eastern’) example, the blocking of rivers with corpses, see the (Greek) Ptolemy, in Arr., Anab. 2.11.8.

15. Osborne (1993), 231–7, a very acute critique.

16. Högemann (2000), 183–98, with much else too which I do not believe; Latacz (2002), 98 and 146.

17. Raimond (2007), 143–62, at 144–5, for a summary of this debated topic; Mellink (1995), 33–43.

18. Hom., Il. 18.316–23, with West (1997), 334–47, esp. 341–2, and even Griffin (1992), 189–211.

19. George, CR 50 (2000), 103–6, an important review.

20. Hom., Il. 14.188–223, with Richardson (1987), 125–32, and on her ‘sexy brassière’ (R. Janko, The Iliad: A Commentary, 13–16 (1994), 185) see Bonner (1949), 1–6, an excellent insight.

21. Hom., Il. 5.318–430; Burkert (1992A), 96–8.

22. Hom., Il. 15.187–95; Burkert (1992A), 90–91.

23. Hom., Od. 7.321–6.

24. West (1988), 151–72, at 172: ‘the Odyssey might be a Euboean poem… But the poet of the Iliad, to all appearances, lived in Asia Minor.’ Dougherty (2001), 148–51, follows suit, claiming ‘the Phaeacians offer the Euboeans a model to think with’ (151). Firmly against West, Cassio (1998), 11–22.

25. Acousilaos, FGrH 2, F2: Hellanicus 4, F20 and now Malouchou (2006), 81–90, with a careful discussion; the approach and conclusion of West (1999), 364–82, were wondrously different.

26. Pind., Nem. 2.1–2; Plato, Phdr. 252B, Ion 530D, Resp. 599E; Isoc, Helen 65; Hippostratus, FGrH 568, F5, identifies the genos as the singers of Homer’s poetry ‘ek diadochēs’.

27. Ion, FGrH 392, F1.

28. Burkert (2001), 127–37; Hom., Il. 2.649, Od. 19.172–7, 19.188 and 18.177; West (1981), 169–75, for another possible ‘Cretan version’.

29. Hom., Il. 11.19–28, with Richardson (1987), 125–32.

30. West (1997), 628–9.

31. Karageorghis (2006), 665–75, on the precise word ‘allothrooi’ if (but only if) the ‘Temesa’ in Hom., Od. 1.183–4, alludes to Tamassos on Cyprus.

32. Hom., Od. 3.169–75.

33. T.397, for instance, in Pithekoussai 1.429.

34. Johnston (2000), 189–226, at 224; Coldstream and MacDonald (1997), 191–245, at 235.

35. Dominguez and Sanchez (2001), 12 ff., and esp. 88, where I do not accept the (widespread) view that ‘Greek artefacts dating to the 8th c… certainly were brought in Phoenician cargoes… and are evidence of Phoenician, not Greek, trade’. At Toscanos, we even have locally imitated Euboean ceramics, not for non-Greek use surely.

36. Wade–Gery (1958), still classic; Edwards (2004) is also to the point: I too have envisaged Ascra as ‘autonomous’ (67), a minority view.

37. Hes., Op. 640; Wallace (1974), 5–24, esp. 8.

38. Hes., Op. 633–40: I take ‘nassato’ to mean ‘he settled’ and, despite G. L. Huxley, CR (2005), 201,1 think Wade–Gery (1958), 5, thought so too when writing he ‘returned’ to Boeotia.

39. Hes., Theog. 306 and 820–80.

40. West (1966), 90: the Hymn to Hecate (Hes., Theog. 411–52) is a counter to extravagant talk of ‘Greek religion as polis-religion’. No cults of Hecate are attested, even later, in Boeotian poleis. Strauss Clay (2003), 138, even thinks the hymn attests ‘to the poet’s understanding of [Hecate’s] critical mediating function’.

41. Burkert (2005), 3–20, on the gendering of the first pairs; Veyne (1983), 28–9.

42. West (1966), 161–2, is still fundamental on Hes., Theog. 26–8, against views like Wade–Gery’s (1958), 7; Hes., Theog. 33–51, for the Muses’ own song.

43. Hes., Theog. 497–500.

44. West (2003A), 9–12, a lucid summary of the date; I still incline to the brilliant core of Forrest (1956), 33–52; Chappell (2006), 331–48, surveys the theories, but is too negative at 332–4; at 334 n. 3 Forrest dates the hymn after the institution of chariot-racing at the Pythia in 582 BC; I prefer 582 BC itself and thus explain Hymn. Hom. Ap. 270–71, with the clear hint that Telphusa is being deceitful at 375–81. Cassola (1975), 97–104, lists much more bibliography, none of which alters this cardinal point; Malkin (2000), 69–77, is positive about the poem but does not discuss the Cretans.

45. Hymn. Horn. Ap. 388–520, a marvellous passage; Philippe (2005), 241–54, on ‘Delphinios’.

46. Hymn. Hom. Ap. 392–6.

47. Huxley (1975), 119–24, at 122. Predictably, the archaeologically focused Morgan (1990), 145–6, runs out at this fence: ‘the presence of Cretans accords with the demands of sanctuary polities’! Contrast, rightly, Forrest (1956), 33–52.

48. Jeffery (1976), 191–2, a neat summary; Huxley (1975), 119–24. Rutherford (2001A), 24–5 and 205–7; Forrest (1957), 160–75, on tne origins of the cult.

49. Rolley (1977), esp. 145–6. Only secondarily was the name Crisa linked to Crete–Cressa: Servius, ad Verg. Aen. 3.32, is not primary evidence; Kolk (1963), 34 n. 33.

50. Hes., Theog. 497–500.

51. Coldstream (1979A), 257–63.

52. Hes., Theog. 477–82.

53. Steph. Byz., s.v. ‘Lyktos’; A. Chaniotis kindly helped me here; West (1966), 297–8, for other possibilities, to me less convincing.

54. Matthäus (2000B), 517–49; Hoffmann (1998); Matthäus (2000A), 267–80; Coldstream (2003), 401–3; Kunze (1931); Hoffman (1997).

55. West (1966), 290–93, saw it as ‘an account deriving from Minoan Crete’ reconciled by ‘the Greek theogonie tradition’. I would minimize the Minoan influence.

56. West (1978), 30, touches on this possibility, albeit more generally; compare West (1997), 627.

57. Hes., Op. 654–7.

58. Hes., Theog. 820–80, esp. 868.

59. West (1966), 379–83, a brilliant presentation; I also agree with West (1966), 397–9, on the poem’s ending; Kelly (2007), 371–402, does not persuade me at all.

60. Rowe (1983), 124–35.

61. Hymn. Hom. Ap. 305–74; I disagree with West (2003A), 11–12, that this episode is due to Cynaethus, honouring Hera, who was linked to Samos and his patron Polycrates. I regard it simply as a Delphic episode, originating there and annexing the Typhon-story into its own Python legend.

62. Hes., [Sc.] 32.

63. Hes., Theog. 860, suspected, however, by West (1966), 393: there did not need to be a full eruption, as West implies, for Typhon to be sited under Etna. He sends up smoke and noise very often: they sufficed.

64. Hes., Op. 106–201, with West (1978), 173–7; despite Sourvinou–Inwood (1997), 1–22, I think there is overall deterioration from age to age.

65. Daniel 2: 38–45; Boyce (1984), 68–85; Potter (1994), 188; Koenen (1994), 1–34, at 11–13, a major study.

66. Bickerman (1988), 24–5, on one reworking at this time.

67. West (1997), 306–33, for a brilliant array of parallel passages.

68. Thuc. 6.3.1, surely Delphic Apollo, not Delos’s.

69. Paus. 10.24.6; Hes., Theog. 498–500; West (1997), 294–5.

70. Callim., Aet. F43, 74–8 on (Delphic) Apollo; the ‘boy from Ascra’ is my forerunner of that ‘boy from Stratford’ who rounds off Nuttall (2007), 383, so memorably; for (later) Homeric traces on Euboea, Debiasi (2001), 9–36.

CHAPTER 21

1. ‘Contemporary’ is above all my point here. West (1997) distinguishes Oriental and ‘neo-Oriental’ and (except for Aphrodite, perhaps) it is the latter category I struggle to see in Homer. Burkert (2004), 31, thinks ‘Tethys’ was borrowed after the Bronze Age, but we do not know when. Koenen (1994), 23, argues more cautiously for a ‘broad cultural matrix’, and even a structure, shared with Egyptian and other texts, but considers it far from ‘contemporary’, though he accepts that other details may have arrived later (25–6).

2. Perennially controversial, of course: I incline to Janko (1998), 1–13, and Hainsworth (1991), 11–42, but nonetheless with a hint of text (did Homer note down a main plot?) to satisfy Dowden (1996), 47–61, but not the fully literate view of West (2003B), 1–14, esp. 14.

3. Rasmussen (1991), 57–78, for beginnings.

4. Kirk (1972), 83–102, among very many; Calame (1996), likewise.

5. Hom., Od. 13.162–83, esp. 172–8, with Od. 8.564–70.

6. Hes., Theog. 209, 197–200, 282–3; Op. 50–105; Theog. 521–616. J. T. Lightfoot kindly points out to me the frequent aetiological element in Hesiodic fragments: FF71, 125, 188A, 226.

7. Lane Fox (1991), 58–9, with bibliography; Fichtner (1956), 372–96, on name-aetiologies in J; Golka (1976–7), 410–28, and (1977), 36–47.

8. Genesis 28: 19 and 11: 9, with Westermann (1984), commentary: he is resistant to the frequently obvious inference that the aetiology gave rise to the entire story being told. Gunkel (1964) is still fundamental on this matter.

9. An ‘aetiological narrative’ is distinct from a narrative which also includes an aetiology – for instance Genesis 35: 20 on Rachel’s grave: Rachel died anyway, but an existing place gave (probably) the further embellishment, that Jacob ‘set up a pillar’.

10. Genesis 26: 18–33.

11. Genesis 47: 26.

12. Joshua 5: 2–9.

13. Lane Fox (1991), 229–30, using Bickerman (1988), 179, quoted here too; for ‘cult-aetiologies’ in the Old Testament, Soggin (1960), 341–7, at 341.

14. Deuteronomy 3:11.

15. Genesis 19: 6–19, 29: Westermann (1985), 297, remarkably claims that ‘the attempt to explain Genesis 19 as an etiological narrative’ is misguided: rather, he thinks, the essence is ‘the experience of a catastrophe’. But the origin of this episode is not explained by an ‘essence’ distilled by an empathetic modern reader.

16. Childs (1963), 279–92, for the biblical examples; Hymn. Hom. Herrn. 125; Lane Fox (2004), 184–214, at 212–14.

17. Hdt. 3.48 may be an example; Pagels (1927) looks for others, but they are embedded in tales told to Herodotus by oral sources. Hdt. 5.88–9 has an aetiological element (5.88), but it is also a complex chain of (alleged) historical causes.

18. Van Seters (1992), 28–32, well stresses the need to distinguish between a historian searching for ‘aitiai’ and what we call ‘aetiology’. Van Groningen (1953), 26, was wrong to describe the ‘flourishing historical science of Herodotus’ as ‘particularly rich in aetiological elements’.

19. My Euboeans’ (significant) names are chosen from a good stable, the excellent equine list in Bechtel (1900), 326–31; ‘Anas’ is in Hawkins (2000), 96: ‘my beloved wife’, at Carchemish. The Chalcidian month of Hippion is discussed by Knoepfler (1989), at 39–59; ‘Phosphoros’ is a horse-name in the excellent list in Toynbee (1948), 24–37, esp. 26–33. Hipposthenes showed Homeric ‘manliness’ (ēnoreē), not ‘excessive manliness’ (agēnoriē), so as to please Graziosi and Haubold (2003), 60–76. ‘Buried lives’ are derived from Matthew Arnold’s poem and ‘Life, as it were’, from the end of Henry James’s Washington Square.

Hipposthenes, Anas and Phosphoros lie buried, in my view, beneath the car park of the Green Land phytorio (Plant Centre) on the road out from Chalkis to Eretria.