This book argues that Anatolian texts are of central importance to the prehistory of Homeric epic. Combining various strands of her previously published research, B. seeks to draw the attention of Classicists particularly to the rich and multilingual literature of the Hittite capital Hattusa in the mid to late second millennium b.c. Her aim is to demonstrate the influence of Syro-Anatolian narrative poetry on early Greek epic, and to explain how knowledge of Mesopotamian compositions (such as the Epic of Gilgamesh) reached Greece on indirect routes through the eastern Mediterranean. Special emphasis is placed on the contexts in which cross-cultural interaction occurred, and on the role of oral (as opposed to written) transmission.
The book can be divided into two larger parts. The first, comprising Chapters 1–8, reviews the Syro-Anatolian and Mesopotamian narrative poems attested at Hattusa that are argued to be precursors of early Greek epic: Chapter 1 defines Hurro-Hittite narrative song as a genre and argues for its formative influence on Homer, while subsequent chapters introduce in detail the texts from Hattusa that are at the core of B.’s argument, in particular the Akkadian, Hurrian and Hittite versions of Gilgamesh, the Hurro-Hittite Song of Release and legends of Old Akkadian kings. B. provides summaries and comparisons to early Greek epic and also reflects on the reasons why these literary compositions were imported to Hattusa and how they were used there. The second larger section (Chapters 9–16) is concerned with the means by which knowledge of Hurro-Hittite narratives may have reached Greek poets: B. discusses festivals as an opportunity for cultural contact, examines the contexts of epic poetry in Late Bronze and Early Iron Age Greece, and considers the possibilities of interaction and cultural continuity in Cyprus, Cilicia and western Anatolia. The final chapters (Chapters 15 and 16) offer a reconstruction of the prehistory of the Iliad and a detailed exposition of the ‘layers of Anatolian influence’ contained in it.
It is impossible within the confines of this review to give a full assessment of B.’s work, and I will comment only on her central proposition. While B. devotes much attention not only to the literary compositions as such but also to their ancient contexts and to the general history of the eastern Mediterranean in the Late Bronze and Early Iron Ages, the argument depends at its core on the strength of the literary parallels between the Near Eastern and early Greek sources. B. very often refers to these parallels as ‘striking’, but does not demonstrate their relevance: the argument leaps from perceived similarities, however vague and superficial, to the assumption of historical influence, without serious consideration of alternative explanations. In assessing an ancient Near Eastern parallel to a Homeric passage, it is necessary to pay close attention to the wider Homeric context: is it plausible to invoke influence from a Mesopotamian or Syro-Anatolian source, or are less far-fetched explanations preferable? For instance, B. compares the figure of Hector in the Iliad to narratives on the Old Akkadian king Naram-Sin, mainly on the basis that both characters choose to ignore divine portents, which has negative consequences for the people they lead (pp. 191–5). The more immediate comparanda to the key passage, Hector's dismissive comments on augury (Il. 12.231–43), can be found in the Homeric poems themselves, in which characters may reject or even fundamentally question the significance of portents but are usually shown by subsequent events to be overconfident in their ability to assess the ominous signs (e.g. Eurymachos, Od. 2.181–2; Penelope, Od. 19.560–9; Nestor, Il. 2.80–1, echoed by Priam, Il. 24.218–24). Such Homeric parallels are not mentioned by B., who concentrates instead on a ‘strikingly similar’ passage in a narrative on Naram-Sin (p. 194, where Hector's words at Il. 12.234–6 are mistranslated). A reader may be left with the impression that Hector's behaviour is so extraordinary that it has to be explained by means of a remote ancient Near Eastern parallel, which is clearly not the case. Nor is it accurate to describe the anger of Agamemnon at Calchas (Il. 1.106–20) and the lying dream sent by Zeus (Il. 2.5–47) as further examples of the supposed ‘theme of the ruler who fails to interpret omens correctly’ in the same way as Hector/Naram-Sin (p. 193), since Agamemnon in both cases heeds the message without question.
Another factor in cross-cultural comparisons is the consideration that two or more bodies of literature may, when read in parallel, be expected to show formal and thematic similarities, whether they are historically related or not. For demonstrations involving Gilgamesh, see the recent ‘influence-free’ comparative work by R. North and M. Worthington, KASKAL 9 (2012), 177–217, and A.R. George, KASKAL 9 (2012), 227–42. A broader perspective can help to assess how specific and meaningful a given parallel is likely to be. In discussing the tale of Polyphemus in the Odyssey, B. acknowledges the fact that the episode involves a widespread folktale motif; she also claims, however, that it is specifically influenced both by Sumerian Huwawa-narratives and (as suggested by ‘striking parallels’) Caucasian myth (pp. 55–6, 106, 298–9). No consideration is given to the date of the Caucasian sources or to the possibility that they may themselves be influenced by the Odyssey, and no attempt is made to explore the implications that the folktale-aspect (Enzyklopädie des Märchens, s.v. ‘Polyphem’; note also A.R. George, Bibliotheca Orientalis 69 [2012], 421–5) may have for the literary-historical argument. A similar unresolved problem arises in the case of the fragmentary and difficult Hurro-Hittite Song of Release, in which B. sees an important Iliadic parallel. The central aspect of the comparison is the fact that in the Hurro-Hittite poem the Storm-god demands the release of captives from the city of Ebla, whose king is inclined to agree but is overruled by the city assembly; the alleged parallels are the disputes over Helen and Chryseis (‘two humans argue before a human assembly over releasing a captive’, p. 133). B. later adduces ‘Greco-Aryan’ and Central Asian epic parallels on storylines of ‘retrieving an abducted wife’ and ‘marriage by abduction’, and concludes without further elaboration that the ‘Greco-Aryan storyline’ must have merged with a ‘Near Eastern epic storyline about the release of captives’ (p. 139). The reader is left wondering whether the widespread motif of marriage by abduction (Enzyklopädie des Märchens, s.v. ‘Brautraub’) might not naturally lead to tales about the release of captives. Or, since B. finds it legitimate to construct a link between the human assembly-scene in the Song of Release and the divine assembly in the (clearly unrelated) Babylonian epic Atrahasis, why not also consider a well-known early Greek divine narrative in which the snatching of a bride leads to wrath, withdrawal, attempted persuasion and retrieval (Hades, Persephone, Demeter)?
While B.’s aim to bring Hittite literature to the attention of a wider audience is admirable, her far-reaching claims should have been supported by a much more scrupulous treatment of the evidence. Her discussion presupposes, rather than demonstrates, the necessity of literary influence, and her argument does not improve the popular but ineffective method of accumulating (invariably ‘striking’) literary parallels. Among the many points of detail that also deserve criticism, it is particularly regrettable that B. has preferred to cite secondary literature written in English (as explained on p. xxii). In reading the book I continuously noted missed references to important works of scholarship in languages other than English (as well as to recent publications in English) that could have informed every aspect of her argument.
