craft similes and the construction of heroes in the iliad

Department of the Classics, Harvard University

CRAFT SIMILES AND THE CONSTRUCTION OF HEROES IN THE ILIADAuthor(s): Naomi RoodReviewed work(s):Source: Harvard Studies in Classical Philology, Vol. 104 (2008), pp. 19-43Published by: Department of the Classics, Harvard UniversityStable URL: http://www.jstor.org/stable/27809332 .

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CRAFT SIMILES AND THE CONSTRUCTION OF HEROES IN THE ILIAD

Naomi Rood

Three

conclusions have emerged in recent years about the subject matter of Iliadic similes. First, their content falls into three groups:

(a) weather and other natural phenomena; (b) hunting and herding; and (c) human technology.1 Second, contrary to the old idea that

similes provide relief from the relentless violence of war, the similes of

type (a) and (b) also depict violence, the kind inherent in nature and

animals.2 These similes bring only a change of scene, not of tone. Third, the similes of type (c), human technology, work through contrast with

the surrounding scene: "a peaceful act is unexpectedly compared to the

violence of war."3 These similes of human technology therefore remain

the sole representatives of the old idea that Iliadic similes offer the

audience a peaceful respite from the battlefield. While it is true that

Iliadic similes need not be confined to a single function, why would

the function of technological similes differ so sharply from that of the

others, which make up the vast majority of the poem's similes?4 This

paper considers the technological similes of the Iliad in order to show

that they do not contrast with the context of the poem but, on the

1 I cite this list from Edwards 1991:35. His list, as Richard Garner has pointed out to

me, is not exhaustive as it leaves out some similes, primarily those about children (e.g. 15.361-366,16.7-11), which do not fit into any of these three groups.

2 Redfield 1975:188-190. Edwards 1991:35-36 follows this view. The "old idea" that

similes afforded some respite from the battlefield is expressed in, for example, Bassett

1921:136-138; Owen 1946:186-189; Schadewaldt 1965; Taplin 1980:14-15; Cook 1984:41. 3 Redfield 1975:190. This view is shared by Edwards 1991:35-36; Porter 1972; Mueller

1984; Janko 1992:273. 4 See Fr?nkel 1921:98 for an early proponent of the idea that the Homeric simile has

not one but many functions. Edwards 1991:35 notes that the technological similes mostly

appear only once in contrast to the frequency of nature and hunting/herding similes.



20 Naomi Rood

contrary, enhance the cultural aspect of the war and the poem's func

tion of creating undying glory, kleos aphthiton. The argument of this paper depends on two fundamental concep

tions of the poem: first, that a beautiful death in battle is an ultimate

good for the young warrior; second, that the poem realizes this good

by memorializing the hero in a song that removes him from the cycle of nature and situates him within the permanence of culture. To

elaborate, a beautiful death, kalos thanatos, consists of a warrior dying

gloriously in battle at the peak of his youth and beauty and becoming a spectacle of admiration for others. When the Homeric hero dies in

"the flower of youth," he permanently attains all the "qualities that

make life worthwhile: vigor, beauty, grace and agility."5 Just as a flower

blossoms and quickly fades, these qualities do not stay fixed but soon

wither and vanish. A beautiful death saves the warrior from the horror

of inevitable decay, aging, and death. Since a beautiful death occurs in

battle, warfare provides the context for this ultimate good and so is

itself essentially positive.

Epic poetry memorializes the hero's beautiful death. Through the

cultural institution of epic song, a man may transcend the cycle of

nature wherein, like a plant, he briefly flourishes and then withers and

dies. The poem thus equates mortality with nature and, by contrast,

immortality with culture. Nagy has shown how epic opposes culture

and the natural cycle of plant life. He contrasts the diction character

istic of plant life, 'to wither' (phthi-), with that for objects of culture,

'unwithering' (aphthiton). A good example of this contrast occurs in

the difference between the tree in nature and in culture, the former

expressive of mortality, the latter of its transformation into immor

tality. Specifically, Apollo likens mortals to the leaves of a tree, which at one time come to fullness, bursting in radiance, and then wither

(cpOivuOouoiv II. 21.463-466). In contrast, Achilles swears his oath at the

beginning of the poem by the scepter, which consists of a tree shaped

by the divine craftsman, Hephaestus: the tree has been cut down, never to bloom again, transformed into a cultural object (1.233-237). As a result, this tree becomes 'always unwithering' (cccpGirov aid 2.46,

5 Vernant 1991:59.



Craft Similes and the Construction of Heroes 21

186), the opposite of what it once was. The adjective aphthiton implies "the cultural negation of a natural process" and characterizes both

the works of Hephaestus (14.238-239, 18.369-371), and the function

of epic poetry: "as compensation for the death that he cannot escape ... Achilles gets a kleos that is aphthiton (9.413)."6 This paradigm of the

craftsman/poet who creates immortality by transforming a thing of nature?trees in particular?into one of culture will inform our reading of the craft similes in the Iliad. At the same time, I hope that my discus

sion of the technological similes will further strengthen these funda

mental conceptions of heroic epic. Human technology can include a wide range of skills from farming

to fishing, hunting to herding.7 For the purposes of this paper, I define

human technology as activities that require the skills of a special ized craftsman: similes of the building of ships, chariots, and houses; the making of pottery, the dyeing of ivory, and the tanning of hides. I

include, as the exception to this rule, the skills of spinning and weaving. For although most women from slaves to noblewomen practiced these

domestic crafts, they are such well recognized images of the female

counterpart to male technology (e.g. Od. 7.108-111), and metaphors of cunning intelligence as well as poetry itself, that it seems negligent to omit them.81 do, however, exclude the other domestic technolo

gies that fall outside the realm of the craftsman: farming, winnowing,

threshing, fishing, cheese making, herding, and hunting.9 According to

these criteria, the Iliad contains thirteen similes of human technology:

shipbuilding (3.60-63,13.389-393 = 16.482-486,15.410-413,17.744-746);

dyeing ivory (4.141-147); chariot making (4.482-489); spinning and

6 Nagy 1979:183-184. The key to Achilles' immortality is the permanence of the

cultural institution, epic, into which he is incorporated; see further Nagy 1979:177-184. 7 Edwards 1991:35 includes "carpentry, weaving, threshing grain, irrigating a garden,

and similar activities, showing mankind working productively with nature." Sophocles' list of human technai (Ant 365) in his "Ode to Man" is more inclusive: sailing, farming,

hunting, fishing, animal domestication, speech, thought, law, and building (Ant 332-375). 8 On the implications of spinning and weaving, see, for example, Schmitt 1967:298

300; Snyder 1981; Nagy 1996:62-74; Scheid and Svenbro 1996. 9 This is not to deny these technologies their impressive use of techn?. Edwards

1991:35, as seen above, allots a separate category of similes to those of hunting and

herding apart from those of human technology.



22 Naomi Rood

weaving (12.432-438, 23.760-764); house building (16.212-217, 23.712

713); tanning (17.389-395); and pottery making (18.599-601).

Shipbuilding provides the most frequent and, as it turns out, the most coherent set of technological images. In fact, as Janko has

observed, the Iliad's five shipbuilding similes depict ship timbers at all

stages of production: (l) being felled; (2) being hauled down the moun

tain; (3) being worked by a shipwright.10 Specifically, in these stages we find: (l) the heart of Hector compared to an axe wielded by a ship

wright cutting down timber for ships (3.60-63); the Trojan heroes, Asius and Sarpedon, falling in battle compared to a tree felled by a

shipwright for ship timber (13.389-393 = 16.482-486); (2) Menelaus and

Meriones carrying the body of Patroclus out from battle compared to

mules dragging ship timber down a mountain slope (17.744-746); and

(3) the deadlock of battle as the Achaean ships are threatened with fire

compared to a shipwright's line drawn tight across ship timber (15.410

413). The coherence of these technological images makes them unique in the poem. Unlike the other craft similes, the imagery of shipbuilding forms a narrative of sorts. Of all the crafts, why does the poem choose to display in full the technology of shipbuilding? What is the poem's

implicit interest in this narrative of making a ship from tree to shaped timber?

Since shipbuilding similes form the greatest and most coherent set

of technological images in the poem, this paper will center its discus sion on them.111 will argue that for Homer, as for other poets, ships and seafaring have a metaphorical relationship to song. The work of

the shipbuilder parallels that of the epic poet. Both transform things of nature into culture: the shipbuilder turns a tree into a ship; the epic

poet turns a mortal man into an immortal hero. I will discuss this trans

formative process according to the three stages of shipbuilding that the

poem presents. The first stage of warriors falling like trees felled by a shipwright

shows both the sadness of young life cut down and the promise

10 Janko 1992:97, 273.

11 As a result, I will not discuss two similes of craft: the dyeing of ivory (4.141-147) and

the making of pottery (18.599-601). These similes could however easily be read in the

spirit of the present paper's argument.




inherent in such a death, provided it occurs under the aegis of a

craftsman: just as the similes intimate that the shipwright cuts down

trees for the cultural end of building a ship, so the warriors fall with a

sense of constructive purpose. These similes acknowledge and provide a response to the fragility of mortal life. In the face of the awfulness

of death, the craftsman's work of transforming a natural death into

something beautiful and cultural assumes all the more importance. All

of these similes of men falling like trees call attention to the warrior's

beautiful death and praise the fallen hero. This epic praise preserves a

man's beauty and lifts him up out of the herd toward a transcendence

of mortality.12 The second stage, of ship timber hauled down from a mountain,

corresponds to the transitional period between a mortal's dying and

his becoming acculturated into the world of the immortalized dead.

This transition constitutes the essential function of epic song. Thus

much of Books 17-23 presents the rituals devoted to translating the

dead?Patroclus in particular?into an immortalized hero: the burning of his body, lament, and funeral games.13 Appropriately, one of the

similes involved in this transitional process of bringing Patroclus into

the realm of culture likens his dead body to ship timber being carried

down a mountain.

The third stage, of a shipwright constructing a ship, occurs in

a simile of battle drawn tight like a shipwright's rule stretched to

straighten timber. One of several technological similes for the deadlock

of battle, it shows the fundamental relationship between warfare and

craftsmanship. These similes make clear that warfare is akin to craft

and so constitutes another kind of constructive activity. Thus, even with

all the acknowledged pain and grief of battle, warfare must ultimately be read as constructive, just as is the work of the shipbuilder or mason

or weaver. More importantly, the simile of the shipwright truing timber

brings to light the critical parallel between poet and shipwright.

12 I use the term 'praise' following Nagy's discussion of praise versus blame as a

primary epic function (Nagy 1979:211-276). 13 On the different rituals owed to the dead, see Garland 1982.



24 Naomi Rood

STAGE 1: THE FELLING OF TREES

Heroes fall like trees seven times in the poem. All these similes perform the primary epic function of praising the fallen hero. Three of them

specify the constructive aim of this woodcutting: shipbuilding (13.389 393 = 16.482-486) and chariot building (4.482-489). Two more of these

similes, I will suggest, imply the cutting of wood for making spears (13.178) and oars (5.560). While they clearly form a related group, these similes have not been deeply considered together as a type.14 Their relationship to craft has thus been overlooked. Instead they have

been read as adding pathos to a hero's death.15 Yet their connection to

craft, whether explicit or implicit, transcends that pathos by offering an alternative to the terrible sadness of death. By associating the fallen

hero with a tree felled to make a cultural object, these similes indicate a parallel process for the fallen man. The hero's death is not the abso

lute end of his story, but the end of his story as a natural being subject to time and death. Just as the felling of trees forms the beginning of

creating a ship or chariot, the similes reveal the hero's end in death as

truly the beginning of his transformation into a thing of culture. These

similes thus not only praise the hero superficially by calling attention

to his youth and beauty, but also more profoundly by removing him

from the realm of mortality and placing him in the realm of immor

tality. Similes of falling like trees praise three important Trojan heroes?

Euphorbus, Imbrius, and Hector?which indicates the great solemnity inherent in tree imagery. Not applied to the ordinary, but reserved for those somehow extraordinary, to be compared to a fallen tree

imparts particular honor and recognition to one's death. Specifically, Euphorbus, as he himself reminds us (17.14-15), is important since it was he who first wounded Patroclus (16.806-816). In his defense of

14 See Muellner 1990 for a strong argument in favor of the thematic method of inter

preting similes, which groups similes by content as an expression of a larger theme. For

brief consideration of the tree similes as a group, see Krischer 1971:72-75; Scott 1974:70

71. 15

See, for example, Edwards 1991:68; Coffey 1957:117.1 do not disagree with this senti

mental reading, but see it as incomplete.




Patroclus' body, Menelaus kills Euphorbus, who, in dying, is compared to a beautiful, blooming olive sapling nurtured by a man in a well

watered pasture. When the breezes stir it up, it teems with white blos soms. But then a sudden tempest uproots it and lays it low on the earth

(17.53-58).16 The simile praises Euphorbus as the young tree reflects

two of the most important qualities of the hero: flourishing youth and

beauty.17

The death of Imbrius, a Trojan ally married to Priam's daughter

by a concubine, also merits a simile of a felled tree. Imbrius is preemi nent among the Trojans and lives in the house of Priam, who honors

him like his own son (13.175-176). The tree simile that describes his

fall acknowledges his prominence: he falls like an ash tree which is

cut down on the peak of a mountain seen from afar on all sides and

whose tender leaves fall to the ground (13.178-180). The detail of the

tree felled on a conspicuous mountain peak matches Imbrius' conspic uous high honor at Troy.18 The tenderness of the tree's leaves moreover

suggests both the fragility of young, mortal life and the beauty of a

death that compensates for that lost life.

A tree simile for a temporary fall of Hector also honors the great hero of Troy. When Ajax lays him low with a rock, he spins like a top and then falls like an oak tree uprooted by a blow from Zeus, which

takes away the courage from a nearby onlooker (14.413-417). The simile

16 The poem strikes a fine balance in its presentation of Euphorbus: he is at once

cowardly, striking Patroclus from behind, and boastful, but also dignified enough to

merit Patroclus and Menelaus as opponents. (Janko 1992:414 calls Euphorbus cowardly; on Euphorbus' boastfulness, Edwards 1991:67 observes that the "boastful Euphorbus is

fittingly wounded through the throat.") In light of the poignant death of Patroclus and

Menelaus' protection of his body, it seems unlikely that any audience would greatly regret the death of Euphorbus, who challenges but does not quite rise to both great heroes.

The tree simile that adorns his death thus upholds the dignity of this hero who first

hit Patroclus and whom Menelaus now vanquishes. Indeed, we see an implicit compli ment to Menelaus in the content of the simile. It seems likely that the first breezes that

strengthen the tree refer to the twenty men Euphorbus has killed since coming to Troy (16.810); while the tempest that destroys the young tree denotes Menelaus, a stronger

wind irresistible to the young Euphorbus. 17 See Vernant 1991 on the importance of youth and beauty for a beautiful death. The

simile furthermore makes use of the motif familiar from lament of the rearing of young life compared to the nurturing of a sapling in a garden (cf. 18.56

= 18.437, Od. 14.175). 18

Janko 1992:69.



26 Naomi Rood

suggests the difference between uprooting a sapling, as in the case of

Euphorbus, and an oak tree, as in this simile for Hector.19 A strong wind

suffices to fell the sapling whereas Zeus' thunderbolt blasts the oak.

The oak well represents Hector, mature and sturdy, reminiscent of the

oak tree that stands at the Scaean Gate of Troy.20 The simile leads one

to believe that Hector has died like the other heroes whose deaths are

accompanied by similes of fallen trees. In a sense, it anticipates the final

fall of Hector. Only Zeus can uproot his sacred oak tree; similarly Zeus

must ultimately allow Hector, whom he loves, to be killed (22.166-185). While the immediate effect of the simile may contain some irony since

it names Zeus as the agent of the tree's fall while he is at the moment

removed from the action, the greater force of the simile implies the

divine presence in the fate of Hector.21 Its acknowledgement of Hector's

status marks even his temporary fall with great praise. The tree similes we have seen so far?for the falls of Euphorbus,

Imbrius, and Hector?all clearly function as praise for the fallen hero.

The simile for Euphorbus highlights his youth and beauty. The one for

Imbrius brings out his high honor in society; and the one for Hector

shows his importance as a sturdy oak that only Zeus himself could

displace. The tree similes that culminate in shipbuilding likewise praise the fallen hero they describe. These similes function through their

promised result of shipbuilding, which suggests a parallel permanence in culture for the hero whom the poet will immortalize in his song.

19 Janko 1992:214 following Krischer 1971 notes that an oak tree is "the toughest to

fell" 20 An oak tree is mentioned in conjunction with the Scaean Gate six times in the poem

(6.237,7.22, 7.60, 9.354,11.170, 21.549). As sacred to Zeus, it takes on a sense of protecting the city at its vulnerable opening. It is interesting to notice how trees in the Iliad are

often associated with works of culture: not only is the oak juxtaposed with the Scaean

Gate, but trees are also several times coupled with, or function as, a funeral stele (11.166 167; 13.437-438; 23.331-332). See also 21.362-365 where Hera views the trees around the

river Scamander as firewood. Thus Nagy's example of the scepter as a tree removed from nature and transformed into an object of culture (1979:183-184) accords with the poem's

general sensibility of trees as close to culture. Cf. Forster 1936:102-103: "Again, trees and

plants are usually mentioned not for their own sake but in connexion with their useful ness to man, whether as food for himself or his animals, or for building his houses or for

making his weapons, ships and vehicles." 21

Janko 1992:215 interprets the presence of Zeus in the simile as ironic.




The two similes of men falling like trees for ship timber are actu

ally a single simile repeated for two warriors, first for the Trojan leader, Asius (13.389-393) and then for the great Trojan ally, Sarpedon (16.482

486).22 The simile differs from the other tree similes we have seen only in its elaboration:

fjpiTce 5' cb? ore ti? 5p?? rjputev r\ ?xepooi?, r|? tiituc; ??ca?pr], xr\v x oupeai x?Krove? ?vSpe?

???tapov 7i???K8aai verjKEOi vrj?ov e?var

toc; ? ?ipoa?' vjtjig?v xai ?icppou ke?to ravuaGei?,

?e?puxax;, kovio? SeSpayp?voc; aipaTo?aori?.

He fell just as when an oak fell or a white poplar, or a high-growing pine, which in the mountains

craftsmen

cut down with newly whetted axes to be ship timber; so he lay stretched out before his horses and chariot,

bellowing, grasping handfuls of the bloody dust.

Asius is a Trojan leader of some importance. During the attempt upon the Achaean ships, he leads a contingent of men inside the Achaean wall

(12.88-175).23 As a figure of significance, Asius dies with a tree simile more elaborate than the one used some two hundred lines earlier for

the less known Imbrius.24 The details of shipbuilding add importance to

the image of a fallen tree. In the related tree similes we have seen previ

ously?for Euphorbus, Hector, and Imbrius?the image ends with the fall

of the tree. This is partly due to the agency of the fall, for Euphorbus' tree is blown down by the wind and Hector's is felled by a thunder

bolt. In these instances, there is no clear intention behind the felling of the tree. Imbrius, more along the lines of Asius, is 'cut down with

bronze' (xa^xco xapvop?vn, 13.180), indicating a human hand intent on

22 The Iliad repeats seven major similes; see Janko 1992:256.

23 There he encounters two Lapith spearmen standing firm like oak trees in the moun

tains (12.131-134). Here the tree simile praises their fixity in battle. See Scott 1974:71.

Generally, trees in the poem have positive connotations. 24 Moulton 1977:23 considers this simile greater than that for Imbrius, although he

does not elaborate.



28 Naomi Rood

felling the tree. Since the dying Imbrius is compared to a falling ash

tree (us?irj 13.178), the wood most commonly used for spears and so

a common name for them, one may suppose that this tree is cut with

bronze for the purpose of making spears.25 Another brief tree simile we

have not yet mentioned works in a similar way: the Danaan brothers

Crethon and Orsilochus fall at the hands of Aeneas like lofty fir trees'

(5.560). Here, too, the comparison to fir trees (eAdrrjaiv), whose wood

is used to make oars and often metaphorically refers to oars, suggests the constructive use for these fallen trees.26 The simile for Asius, which

tells in full the agent and purpose of the felling, gives reason to see in

those related, briefer similes a constructive end. Thus we may identify the elaborate simile for Asius as the complete, paradigmatic version of a

simile of a tree felled by a human hand, to which these related, shorter

similes may well allude.

The simile for Asius, of a tree cut down by a shipbuilder for timber,

suggests that the greatest praise a fallen hero might be given associ

ates his fall with the beginning of the process of constructing some

cultural good out of natural material. We must keep in mind that nature is not a benign force in the poem.27 Like war, it is violent and

destructive, a harsh realm subject to death and decay. The poet values nature transformed into culture. As one scholar has aptly put it, Homer

is not a naturalist but a gardener.28 Nature is good when it has been

organized, cultivated, and domesticated by man. Accordingly, tech

nology is an unambiguously positive achievement. A tree earmarked

for ship timber conforms to the Homeric sensibility of technology as

an admirable good. The death of Asius, a considerable hero, does not

end with his lying prostrate before his horses and chariot. Instead, the

simile indicates in its implicit endpoint of creating a ship that his fall is likewise the beginning of his transformation into something perma nent and cultural?ultimately, as we shall see, the memory the poet bestows upon his beautiful death. Asius dies for a purpose and with

25 SeeJanko 1992:69.

26 On fir as the tree used for oars, see Meiggs 1982:111. 27 Edwards 1991:35; Rauber 1969:101. 28 Forster 1936:103.




the promise of becoming greater and more lasting than he was in his

natural life. So it is plausible to see in the fallen ash for Imbrius and the

fir for Crethon and Orsilochus a subtle suggestion of the cultural use of

these woods: these heroes thereby receive greater praise and promise in their deaths.

The praise implicit in this ship timber simile for Asius becomes

more apparent when the simile is applied to the fall of Zeus' beloved

son, Sarpedon (16.482-486). The magnitude of Sarpedon's dreaded end

(16.431-438), honored by Zeus with a shower of bloody rain (16.459

460), demands a simile of great weight and power for the moment of

death. The poem's choice of a tree felled by a shipbuilder for ship timber

indicates the magnitude of honor inherent in this simile. Sarpedon gets his mound and stele in Lycia (16.457, 675); moreover, like a tree taken

from nature for the ends of culture, the poem gives him immortal glory in its account of his beautiful death.29

One final tree simile for a fallen warrior forms a parallel to the

shipbuilding similes for Asius and Sarpedon. Here a tree is again felled

for the purpose of cultural transformation when Ajax kills Simoeisius, one of the first warriors to fall in the poem. Due to his early death, he merits a tree simile: he falls like a poplar, which a chariot maker

(?ppaTOTtriYo? ?viqp) cuts down with iron in order to bend a felloe for

a beautiful chariot (4.482-489).30 This simile supports the idea that a

"full" tree simile for a fallen warrior includes a craftsman cutting down

the tree for the purpose of making some cultural object. The simile

for Simoeisius, like those for Asius and Sarpedon, promises a cultural

transformation of a tree into part of a beautiful chariot (TiepiKaAA??

5icppa) 486). While acknowledging the poignancy of the death of the

blooming (Oa?epov 474) and short-lived (pivuv0?5io? 478) Simoeisius, the craftsman responds to the impermanence of nature by fashioning out of it a beautiful object of culture.

Significantly, all of these "full" similes of men falling like trees

felled for the purpose of building oars, spears, chariot wheels, or ships

go beyond a simple relationship of likeness. The parallel between tree

29 See Nagy 1979:183-186 on the difference between immortalization in cult and epic. 30 For the importance of Simoeisius' death, see Mueller 1984:109.



30 Naomi Rood

and man spirals into a sequential narrative that brings out the parallel between craftsman and poet as men who shape natural material into

something beautiful and cultural. The craftsman cuts down a tree and

makes it into a cultural instrument?oar, spear, chariot wheel, or ship that helps men fight the wars in which, in turn, they are cut down and

made by the poet into cultural heroes. The following diagram displays this sequence:

This group of technological similes is thus unique in the close and

sequential relationships it presents among trees, craftsmen, and war

instruments, on the one hand, and men, poet, and heroes, on the other.31 This uniqueness indicates that these similes convey a cycle of

particular significance, expressive, I suggest, of the poem's essential

function.

The poem further displays the privileged position of the craftsman

cutting down timber in a curious simile that Paris addresses to Hector.

After Hector reproaches Paris for his cowardice in battle, Paris accepts that blame:

tree

craftsman

31 I thank Richard Garner for sharing this observation with me.




aid roi KpaSfrj n?XsKvq qj? ?axiv ?teipri?, o? x e?aiv 5i? 5oup?? xm ?v?po?, ?? pd te r?xvr) vn?ov ?Ktduvnaiv, ?cp?A?ei 5' ?v5p?? ?pconv co? aoi ?vi axrj?saaiv dTdp?rjTOC, voo? sarr

3.60-63

Always your heart is just as an untiring axe, which is driven through timber by a man, who with

skill cuts down / hews out ship timber, and it strengthens

the motion of the man; So the purpose in your breast is undaunted.

Just as it is not unusual to find tree similes for fallen heroes, it is not

unheard of to find men's hearts compared to some hard material (e.g. Priam 24.521, Penelope Od. 23.103), but the elaboration of this simile

into an image of shipbuilding is striking. First of all, what does it mean

to have a heart like an axe? The simile suggests the material virtues

of an axe: it is hard, unyielding, untiring. Unlike a man, an axe has no

susceptibility to fatigue or, as the end of the simile suggests, fear. A

man possesses skill, but a tool possesses the durability to achieve the

goal aimed at with that skill.32 A man driven by a heart like an axe may become invulnerable to human frailty. Paris thus contrasts Hector with

himself, vulnerable to fear and inconstancy.33 But why does he specify that the woodcutter is a shipwright? One final image of woodcutting in the poem offers an answer to this question; let us turn to this last

image and then come back to the question of why Paris likens Hector to

a shipbuilder. In the funeral games for Patroclus, Nestor advises his son Antilochus

on how to win the chariot race by relying on cunning intelligence rather than the strength of his horses. Antilochus' competitors may

possess faster horses, but they do not rival him in cunning. Nestor then

elaborates on the value of such intelligence:

32 According to Kirk 1985:273, the man "has his own skill, but the axe's potent inde

structibility enables him to finish the task." 33

According to Coffey 1957:131, this simile characterizes Hector as a "steadfast,

persistent, and tireless warrior," to which he compares 6.444.



32 Naomi Rood

urjn toi 5puT6uo? \i?y ?usivcov rj? ?ir](pr

urju 5' auT? Ku?epvrjTriq ?vi o?votii tiovto)

vr\a Qor\v iGuvei ?pex?ou?vnv ?v?poior

urjti 5T rjvioxoc; nepiyiyvezai rjvioxoio. 23.315-318

With cunning a woodcutter is far better than with

physical force; with cunning in turn a helmsman on the wine-dark sea

steers straight his swift ship dashed about by the winds; And by cunning charioteer prevails over charioteer.

Nestor integrates the woodcutter into a surprising trio: woodcutter,

helmsman, and charioteer. The woodcutter assumes a status and a

significance that goes beyond that of a simple workman. Like Paris, Nestor turns to ships directly after his consideration of the woodcutter. In the spectrum of shipbuilding, the helmsman stands at the farthest

pole from the shipbuilder cutting down wood: the former occupies the

endpoint of the process, the latter the beginning. But Nestor's image of the helmsman straightly steering his ship through a storm eluci

dates the commonality between the two, which then culminates in

the elaboration on the victorious charioteer: the woodcutter, like the

helmsman and charioteer, must guide his axe aright. All three occu

pations demand straight steering: one must stay in complete control of his instrument?whether that be axe, ship, or horses?not wasting

strength in any unnecessary movement, but staying always focused on

the goal (23.319-325). In his juxtaposition of images, Nestor suggests a

fluidity throughout the entire process of shipbuilding to sailing. From

beginning to end?from woodcutting to navigation?intelligence prom ises success.

Returning to Paris' simile for Hector's heart, we recall that in his

image the shipbuilder possesses skill (r?xvrj 3.61), a quality related to

intelligence.34 Hector, like Nestor's successful woodcutter, guides his axe

with skill. Paris specifies that the woodcutter in his simile for Hector is

34 On the overlap of techne and metis, see D?tienne and Vernant 1978:272-273;

Holmberg 1997:10-12.




a shipbuilder since shipbuilding?from beginning to end?epitomizes an art requiring skill and intelligence. In his words accepting Hector's

reproach, Paris acknowledges the authority of Hector to make that

reproach. Indeed, Paris praises his brother through the image of a ship builder, portraying him as a model of focus, skill, and accomplishment, free from the foibles of human frailty. The language of shipbuilding evokes a network of associations, which Paris exploits to subtly and

eloquently accept blame and award praise, thereby diffusing a moment

of tension. Clever and straight steering, the shipbuilder in the poem

emerges as a paradigm of intelligence and artistry, a compliment to

Hector and, more generally, a fine image for the epic poet himself.

STAGE 2: HAULING DOWN TIMBER FROM A MOUNTAIN

The poem's tree imagery suggests that most forest trees grew and were

cut down in the mountains.35 For example, Imbrius falls like an ash tree

cut down on the peak of a mountain (ueAir) u5?, / rj z ?peo? Kopu?fj 13.178-179); Asius and Sarpedon also fall like a tree which shipbuilders cut down in the mountains (trjv z oupeoi tiKtovec, av5pe? / ec^tauov 13.390-391 = 16.483-484).36 After felling a tree, the second stage of

using a tree for a cultural purpose then is to transport the hewn tree

down from a wooded mountain slope to the inhabited land below. This

very journey down from the mountain into civilization expresses the

transformation a shipbuilder imposes upon wood as he changes it from a part of nature to one of culture. For in terms of nature and culture, mountains stand outside the city as a wild, undomesticated area. If the

felling of a tree in the mountain constitutes the beginning of trans

forming nature into culture, the transporting of that tree down from

the mountain constitutes the transitional period as the tree moves

toward the realm of culture.

35 Meiggs 1982:40-41 explains in more scientific terms the mountains as the forest

areas of ancient Greece. 36 Note also that mountain nymphs plant elm trees for E?tion (v?ucpai ?pearidSe?

6.420); and the Lapith warriors stand like oak trees in the mountains (5pue? oupeoiv

12.132). See also 14.285. Not all the trees in the poem, of course, grow in the mountains

(e.g. 4.483-484; 17.54).



34 Naomi Rood

The transitional phase of hauling down felled timber corresponds to imagery in the poem of fallen men like logs. When Patroclus is still a

corpse?a man cut down but not yet translated into the cultural world

of the memorialized dead?the poem portrays him as a log or ship timber being hauled down from a mountain.37 Menelaus and Meriones

carry Patroclus' body out from the battle where he has fallen:

oi 5' ?j? 6' rjpiovoi Kparepov p?vo? apcpi?aAovreq ?'?Kcoa ?c; ?peo? Kara TtauiaAosoaav ?rapTi?v

rj 5ok?v rj? ?opu \i?ya vr\iov ?v 5? te Guu?? rdp?0' ?uo? Kapdra) zs Kai i5p? onev^ovxeooxv'

to? o? y' ?pp?paa)t? v?Kuv (p?pov. 17.742-746

Just as mules putting their strong force on both sides

drag from a mountain along a steep path either a wooden beam or a great ship timber; their

spirit within is worn away both with weariness and with sweat as

they hurry on; So they pressing eagerly on carried the corpse.

The transitional journey of the ship timber down from a mountain

perfectly represents Patroclus' state. Like the wood, he lies at the tran

sitional point in the process of moving from the world of the living to

the world of the dead, neither alive nor fully dead.38 His body is carried

from battle like a beam or a ship timber in particular. At this moment of some resolution to the great confusion that arose over the fallen hero

(17.233-425, 543-650), the poet signals through this simile a sense of a

return to order and meaning in the horrible loss of Patroclus.39

37 Cf. 23.69-74; on the process of changing a corpse into a hero, see Vernant 1991:68

69. 38 On the process of becoming dead, see Vermeule 1979:12-13. 39

Furthermore, as Janko 1992:380 has observed, Patroclus earlier kills Sarpedon who falls like a tree felled by a shipwright for ship timber (16.482-486); now, soon after, it is Patroclus' turn to become like a log for shipbuilding. Between them, Sarpedon and

Patroclus fulfill the first two stages of a tree moving from nature to culture under the

hands of the shipbuilding craftsman.




The poem depicts many of the rituals for the dead only in the case of

Patroclus: he illustrates the mourning, cremation, games, and memori

alization only touched on for the other heroes.40 He is the poem's figure for its work of carrying the hero across the transition of natural dying into cultural death and heroization. Thus Patroclus is the one carried out of battle like a huge ship timber down from a mountain: his death is not yet complete and not in vain but moving toward a great cultural consummation.

Much of the imagery we have been considering involving the felling and transporting of trees becomes actual in a long passage that initi

ates the funeral of Patroclus. Achilles, while he sleeps, encounters the

soul of Patroclus, who asks him to complete his transition into the

world of death (23.62-107). Achilles responds with wonder and lament, but Agamemnon turns to the practical needs for the dead: the cutting and transporting of wood for his funeral pyre. The poem elaborately describes men and mules going up into the mountains with axes and

ropes and then felling trees and splitting the trunks. The men bind this

wood behind the mules that strain toward the plain under their burdens

(23.120-122). The similarities are striking between this passage and the

simile that compares Menelaus and Meriones to hard laboring mules

carrying Patroclus' body from battle like a log or a ship timber down a

mountain path. Although not exactly parallel, the two passages reso

nate in imagery and idea: the pyre, which the men are constructing for

Patroclus, provides the means of his transition from one world to the

next, from the status of a changeable mortal to one immortally fixed

and remembered; the ship timber likewise promises his transformation into a permanent, cultural object.41 When woodcutting and hauling occur at the start of Patroclus' funerary rites?outside of similes in the

poem?they also represent the means of transforming a mortal man

from nature to culture. The representation of ritual reflects and rein

forces the poetic function implied in the shipbuilding similes.42

40 Garland 1982:70-72 observes that the rituals for the dead vary and are only accorded to "entitled" dead, not all fallen heroes.

41 Vernant 1991:68-70. 42 The poem depicts nameless fallen heroes (and horses) as dry oak or pine trees swept

down a mountain into the sea by a river torrent (l 1.492-497). This simile suggests the



36 Naomi Rood

STAGE 3: TIMBER WORKED BY A SHIPWRIGHT

The poem provides a glimpse of the shipbuilder at work after a tree has

been felled and hauled down a mountain. After the Trojans, with the

help of Apollo, have driven the Achaeans to the point of fighting from

their ships, Zeus then intervenes and the battle reaches a stalemate. The

poem describes this evenness of the battle with a simile of shipbuilding:

?XX o3? te ordOpiq 56pu v?^?ov e^iQvvei T8KTovo<; ?v TiaA?pnai ?ar?povo?, ?? pd te n?or\q ev eiSfi ao(pin.? UTtoGripoouvnaiv 'AOr?vr??,

?? u?v rcov 87ii ?aa udxn. r?taro Tito?euo? te

15.410-413

But just as a carpenter's line makes straight a ship timber

in the hands of an experienced craftsman, who knows

well

all skill by the advice of Athena, so their battle and war was equally strained.

This simile makes use of the traditional image of the stalemate of battle as a tightly stretched cord (e.g., 11.336, 13.358-359, 14.389, 16.662,

17.401, 17.543, 17.736). It constitutes one of five related similes for

the deadlock or closeness of contest (12.432-438; 16.212-215; 17.389

395; 23.711-713; 23.759-764). Strikingly, all of these similes take their

imagery from crafts. Among them, the image most similar to the one of

the shipwright truing timber describes battle stretched tight in dead

lock like a woman carefully weighing wool in a scale to earn a meager

living for her children (12.432-438).43 As in the shipbuilding simile, we

find a related tool used (orocGuov 12.434; cf. ordOpri 15.410). In the simile

of weighing out wool, the imagery of tautness proceeds even from the

straitened economy of the woman and her family. Just as there is no

slack for the woman in her measuring and in her living, there is none in

fate of men whom epic does not memorialize by name: they remain part of mortal nature

and never become part of culture. 43

Coffey 1957:127 also joins these two similes.




the tightness of the battle. Let us look briefly at the other craft similes

that characterize the evenness of battle before we return to the one of

the shipwright straightening timber.

With the death of Patroclus, the idea of battle stretched tight becomes prevalent (17.400-401,17.543-544, 17.736-737). In a curious

correspondence, the tightness of battle characterizes its object: the

two sides strain over the body of Patroclus like men stretching (ravueiv 17.390; tavuouai 17.391; rdvuxai 17.393) the hide of a bull.44 Here the

craft of the tanner supplies the imagery for the contest over the body of Patroclus.

Not just warfare evokes imagery of craft and tightness but also the

battle of athletic contest. When Odysseus and Ajax meet in a wrestling match in the funeral games for Patroclus, they take hold of each other in a close grip like the gable rafters of a high house, which a famous

craftsman joined to defeat the might of the winds (23.711-713). As in

the deadlock of battle, neither side can definitively conquer the other; Achilles declares their contest a draw and awards them equal prizes (23.735-737). Another related simile repeats the image of a tall house

well built to avoid the might of the winds (23.713 = 16.213). This latter

image varies the theme of contest and tightness. It compares the closely packed ranks of the Myrmidon warriors to a wall a man fits together with closely packed stones (16.212-215). The similarity between the

description of the Myrmidons and the imagery for the wrestling contest

conveys the tightness of contest. Yet the transfer of that idea to just one side in the battle to come suggests that these warriors possess the

power of that taut warfare. That is, in their tight marshalling they will

break through any opposition and avoid a battle stretched tight. A final image of craft conveys the closeness of the footrace between

Odysseus and Oilean Ajax. Odysseus runs just behind Ajax as close as

the weaving rod is to the breast of a woman when she draws it in her

hands, pulling the spool past the warp and holding the rod close to her

breast (23.759-764). Again, a moment of deadlock takes its imagery from

44 Moulton 1979:290-292 associates all the imagery of tautness in this episode. He also

brings in the simile that likens Athena's descent to stir up Menelaus to Zeus stretching a

rainbow (17.547-552), and he understands this simile as an omen of evil.



38 Naomi Rood

craft, just as we have seen in the images of shipbuilding, wool weighing,

tanning, carpentry, and masonry. One must consider the implications of this consistent correlation.

As is evident in the climactic battle over the body of Patroclus, dead

lock constitutes warfare at a peak: the men strain in an equal balance, the gods are keenly involved, the outcome is most consequential.45 It is

neither glorious like an aristeia nor heroic like a tremendous defense. It is battle in its most concentrated form. The correlation between

this depiction of warfare and craft suggests that battle in its essence is

akin to the work of a craftsman. Warfare, this imagery communicates, constitutes a constructive, skillful activity. Thus these images support the reading of craft similes in the poem not as a divergence from the context of war but as a parallel to it in accord with the poem's overall

activity of constructing heroes from nature to culture. Now returning to the simile of the shipwright truing timber?in

the final stage of building a ship?we can understand the role of a ship builder in craft akin to battle. This shipbuilding simile refers to an early

phase in the construction of a ship: after felling the necessary trees

and splitting the timber with an axe, the next stage in Homeric ship construction is shaping the timber. This could be done with an adze or

a line (or?Gpn.). This line "consists of only a string coated with chalk, which is pulled tight over the surface to be marked and then plucked,

causing it to strike the surface, leaving a straight chalk line."46 The poem focuses on this stage of shaping the ship timbers primarily because it

suits the image of battle stretched tight. But the simile elaborates on

the skill needed to use the carpenter's line and thereby complicates the image. Beyond a straightforward parallel to the cords of war, the

simile evokes the care the craftsman put into the building of the ship now threatened with destruction. Readers have understood this as a

poignant contrast between the values of peacetime and wartime.47 But

the details of the simile suggest a more comprehensive and unified

understanding of shipbuilding, song, and war.

45 Janko 1992:92 observes that the rope metaphor signals divine involvement.

46 Mark 2005:82-83. 47

Janko 1992:273. Cf. above, n3.




The most interesting word in the passage is sophia, skill (oocpui? 412), since it and all the words based on its root do not occur else

where in Homer. Leaf attributes this uniqueness to the lateness of the

passage.48 But a form of the word occurs in Hesiod (WD 649), whose

work constitutes a roughly contemporaneous comparandum to Homer.

Thus it seems hasty to dismiss the word as late and worthwhile instead to consider the significance of its uniqueness. The related word in

Hesiod also occurs in the context of ships: ll will show you the measures

of the loud roaring sea, although I am skilled neither in sailing nor in

ships' (5ei?o) ?n, toi u?tpa TtoAucpAoia?oio GaAdaarjc;, / ou?e xi vauriAirjc, q?ao(piqu?VO? outx n vn,cov WD 648-649). Dougherty has shown that

this skill concerns both ships and poetry since the meaning of the terms

metra and sophia includes the expertise needed to master both sea and

song. "The broad semantic scope of these terms emphasizes profes sional training and skill?whether in shipbuilding or song-making? and Hesiod's careful word choice emphasizes potential similarities

between the two professions and suggests a figurative alliance between

them."49 In some respects, Homer greatly differs from Hesiod in regard to ships and sailing: unlike Hesiod, who associates ships with the end of

the Golden Age, Homer does not attach these negative connotations to

them.50 Additionally, in contrast to Hesiod's brief sea journey to Euboea

(WD 651), indicative of Hesiod's brief epic, Homer presents the great

Catalogue of Ships (2.494-877), representative of his great epic.51 Hesiod

alludes to Homer through sailing imagery when he describes Aulis, the

origin of his sea journey, as the assembly place of the Achaeans gath ered to set sail to Troy (WD 652-653). Homer also associates ships with

song, most conspicuously in the correlation between shipbuilder and

48 Leaf 1960:131. 49

Dougherty 2001:21. See also Rosen 1990. 50

Although see 5.63 for an interesting passage on Paris' ships as the origin of evil for

the Trojans. This passage, as Richard Garner has pointed out to me, seems to be connected

to a tradition of ships that enable romantic self-indulgence: cf. Eur. Medea 1-11; Catullus 64. For the poem's marked diction for the ships, see Ellsworth 1974. For the polyvalence of the sea itself in the Iliad, see Lynn-George 1988:262-265. On shipbuilding as a sign of

the end of the Golden Age for Hesiod, see Reckford 1958. 51 On the contrast between the ships and song of Hesiod and Homer, see Dougherty

2001:20-27.



40 Naomi Rood

poet embodied by Odysseus in the Odyssey, who builds a raft (5.233-261) and performs the song of his travels (Books 9-12). Moreover, in the very

passage we are considering, of the experienced craftsman who knows

all skill from Athena, there is also subtle indication that the work of

this craftsman relates to the work of the poet. The passage depicts a

skilled shipbuilder at the moment he straightens timber by tightly

stretching a string along the surface of the wood and then plucking it. This image subtly evokes the related activity of the singer accom

panying himself on the lyre, which Homer uses metaphorically in the

Odyssey to describe another moment of tightness?not the tautness of

battle but of the string Odysseus stretches on his bow:

cb? ?r ?vrip (popuiyyoc; ?Tiiat?pevo? xori ?oi?rj?

pn??foo? ?r?vuGGE veco Ttepi ko??otti xop5r?v,

aipa? ducpor?pcoOev e?orpscp?? ?vrepov oio?, co? dp' drep GTiou?fj? r?vuGev p?ya ro?ov 'OSuggeu?

?e^irepfj 5' dpa x&pi Aa?cav TreiprjGaro veupiq?* rj 5' uTi? KaA?v aeioe, x??i56vi eiK?Xr] av5r\v.

Od. 21.406-411

Just as a man knowing of the lyre and song

easily stretches the string about a new peg,

fastening on both ends the well-twisted sheep gut, so Odysseus without trouble strung the great bow.

Grasping it in his right hand he tried the string, which sang beautifully beneath his hand, like a

swallow in tone.

This passage from the Odyssey, with its similar diction of a string stretched tight, makes explicit what is implicit in the passage from

the Iliad of the shipbuilder plucking his line: the skill of stretching and plucking the bow or carpenter's string relates to the poet's skill of

plucking the lyre's string. The third stage of shipbuilding imagery in

the Iliad thus manifestly evokes the presence of the poet, standing in

parallel to the work of the shipbuilder.52

52 For more on the traditional associations between singer and shipbuilder, see

Dougherty 2001:29-37.




The simile of the shipbuilder shaping timber in the context of the

Achaean ships threatened with destruction contrasts their potential end with their beginning. The ship's beginning in the simile is specifi

cally the early stage of straightening the ship timber, ?^iQvvex (15.410), a word that recalls the shared cleverness of the woodcutter, helmsman, and charioteer (iOuvei 23.317). The poet thus finds his place among the

intelligent craftsmen and navigators. Like them, the poet will guide the

"wood" straight, in control of the finished product of his craft. More

than a simple contrast between the work of peace and war, the simile

of the shipbuilder evokes the power of the poet to shape nature into

culture, to shape men from mortals into objects of song. The poem's other images of the early stages of shipbuilding?men falling like trees

and carried out of battle like timber?share this sensibility of the poet's sure hand guiding the fallen men to permanence in song. The poem's simile for the third stage of shipbuilding, wherein the shipwright

shapes timber into a ship confirms the metaphorical reading of all the

poem's coherent shipbuilding imagery as an analogy to the construc

tive work of the poet as he shapes nature into culture, mortality into

immortality.53

Colgate University

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