This article examines allusions to Greek poetry in two Greek verse inscriptions carved on public monuments for Lycian dynasts of the late fifth and early fourth centuries b.c. (CEG 177, 888). Scholarship on these epigrams celebrating the rule, achievements and outstanding qualities of the dynasts Gergis (Lycian Kheriga) and Arbinas (Erbinna) has largely focussed on the evidence they provide for Lycian history,Footnote 2 dynastic ideologyFootnote 3 and Lycia's relationship to Greece.Footnote 4 Less attention has been paid to the possible significance of their long-noted echoes of Greek poetry.Footnote 5 Literary analysis of these epigrams has been sidelined, it seems, owing to a prevailing assumption that they were composed and inscribed primarily for Greeks visiting or resident in Xanthus, the Lycian ‘capital’Footnote 6 where they were inscribed,Footnote 7 and so their literariness, unheard by Lycian ears, cannot add to our understanding of Lycia and Lycians.Footnote 8 Yet, a recent observation of Peter Thonemann suggests that the appropriation and manipulation of Greek poetry is in fact central to the dynastic intent of the epigrams: to assert Lycia's non-Greek, ‘Asiatic’ identity.Footnote 9
Building upon Thonemann's work, I contend that the poets of CEG 177 and 888 persistently allude to, and in so doing manipulate, Greek poetry in order to assert Xanthus’ position as a new, yet ancient, cultural centre of the oikoumenē with a distinctly Lycian identity. I challenge the assumption that these epigrams were not written primarily for a Lycian audience, suggesting instead that their allusions appropriate Greek poetry as cultural capital for the dynasts and their courts, providing them a new means to distinguish themselves from rival members of the local elite. In their allusivity, cultural appropriation and social function rooted in the court society, these Lycian verse inscriptions foreshadow the poetic production of the Hellenistic courts, most notably Ptolemaic Alexandria.Footnote 10
Literary analysis of these epigrams’ allusions is particularly timely, as scholars of Lycia, especially archaeologists, revise past orthodoxy about the region's engagement with Greece.Footnote 11 The relationship between Lycian and Greek art is well known and so strong, in fact, that Gerhart Rodenwaldt in 1933 could even argue that Lycian art was simply Greek art expressing Eastern ideas (‘am Orient der Gedanke, an der Antike die Gestalt’).Footnote 12 The early French archaeologists of Xanthus similarly described the history of Lycian art in terms of ‘Hellenization’,Footnote 13 a narrative of acculturation which in some guises bore mistaken notions of progress and Lycian passivity in the face of the cultural superiority of Greece.Footnote 14 Current scholars instead look for political, cultural and other motivations for Lycians’ engagement with Greek cultural products,Footnote 15 and there has been a concomitant emphasis on local Anatolian traditions in art and architecture.Footnote 16 In some cases, however, this epichoric turn has come with a rejection of Lycian engagement with Greek culture.Footnote 17 This trend has also informed recent approaches to Greek verse inscriptions in Lycia.Footnote 18 It is still possible, however, to focus on Lycian engagement with Greek culture without falling into the old trap of Lycian passivity. In my analysis of CEG 177 and 888 I seek to demonstrate how Lycian rulers and their courts, with the help of Greek poets, actively appropriated Greek cultural products for their own local profits.Footnote 19
The article is divided into four sections. The first provides an overview of Lycian engagement with Greek cultural products, chiefly art, up to the early fourth century and suggests that in the court of the dynast Arbinas we see clearly the emergence of appropriation of Greek products for use as a cultural capital. The second section turns to the epigrams and examines their allusions to Athenian epigram, tragedy, Homer and Hesiod as a literary mode of cultural appropriation asserting the centrality and distinction of Xanthus in the oikoumenē. In the third section, I suggest how these epigrams may have functioned as a cultural capital in Lycian court society, proposing Greek education and the dynastic symposium as exclusive social mechanisms by which dynast and courtiers came to understand these epigrams’ allusions and appropriate them as ‘social weapons’. Finally, the fourth section compares the Lycian epigrams’ allusive form and intercultural posturing to the court poetry of Ptolemaic Alexandria and underscores the determining influence that both the court context and the marginal location of Lycia and Alexandria in the traditional Greek world had on their poetics. I conclude with a suggestion about the social status of the Lycian poets seen in light of their Hellenistic counterparts.
I. LYCIAN ENGAGEMENT WITH GREEK CULTURAL PRODUCTS TO THE EARLY FOURTH CENTURY
Greek ceramics appear on the ‘acropolis’Footnote 20 of Xanthus as early as the seventh century and substantially increase around 550 b.c., the time of the Persian conquest (Hdt. 1.176.1–3).Footnote 21 This is the beginning of the ‘dynastic period’, in which Lycia was ruled by members of the stratified ruling elite known as dynasts.Footnote 22 Nor was pottery the only import: the head and leg of an East Greek kouros and a marble perirrhanterion, a kind of basin on a stand, found on the acropolis suggest a wide range of Greek dedications in the late sixth and early fifth centuries.Footnote 23 By the mid fifth century Greek imports seem to have been prominent in public life, when three peplophoroi, which scholars associate with Building G, are proposed to have been ranged outside it in the open air.Footnote 24
Amidst this abundance of Greek art, we should, however, refrain from jumping to the conclusion that the Lycians appreciated these imports for the sake of their being ‘Greek’ and should instead consider the possibility of Lycian participation in the international visual culture of the Aegean. This distinction is important when we consider the use of Greek iconography on Lycian monuments on the acropolis in the fifth century. The Harpy Monument (480–470), a pillar tomb larger and more finely decorated than those before it,Footnote 25 also differs from earlier pillar tombs in its use of motifs from Greek art. Catherine Draycott, however, describes this iconography as ‘modish’ and ‘Aegean’, and suggests that the dynast wished his family to be shown participating in international, rather than narrowly ‘Greek’, modes of prestige.Footnote 26 Her study of the building programme of the dynast Kuprlli (minting coins c.480–440)Footnote 27 on the acropolis extends this analysis.Footnote 28 On the one hand, Draycott suggests that Kuprlli's new buildings may have intentionally created the impression of an acropolis to suggest Xanthus’ place next to Athens, Delphi and other poleis as an important Aegean city. On the other hand, the architecture of the new Buildings F, G and H is conspicuously Lycian: this is participation, not acculturation. Thus we might be cautious of leaning too heavily on the Lycians’ use of iconography from Greek vases on the fifth-century buildings on the acropolis: the relief depicting a winged nikē,Footnote 29 another with wild animals lifted from Attic vase painting,Footnote 30 and so on may not have been seen and valued as Greek but au courant.
It is under the dynast Arbinas in the early fourth century that we seem first to observe the pointed appropriation of Greek art and architecture. The Nereid Monument (390–380), widely considered to be the funerary monument of Arbinas, belongs to a tradition of ‘house tombs’ or ‘heroa’ perhaps beginning in Xanthus with Buildings F, G and H.Footnote 31 Unlike these Lycian-style buildings, however, the Nereid Monument has the form of an Ionic peripteral temple,Footnote 32 and placed between many of its columns were Greek-style statues of women atop sea creatures. Given the patently Greek character of the monument, these figures are commonly identified as Nereids,Footnote 33 and the monument is argued to appropriate the myth of the Nereids carrying the body of Achilles to the Isles of the Blest in order to suggest Arbinas’ heroization.Footnote 34 Some have rejected this interpretation, claiming that the monument is Lycian, not Greek: Thurstan Robinson argues that the female figures are not Nereids but Lycian water deities, the Eliyana.Footnote 35 In light of the monument's novel use of the Ionic order,Footnote 36 however, Robinson suggests that it was intended to be ‘(mis)read’ as a Greek temple by Greeks. If Arbinas could intend a Greek (mis)reading, it seems that he too could enjoy and promote such a double reading among Lycians, which sees both Eliyana and Nereids bearing him off in Greek style as a Lycian hero. To insist on the Nereid Monument's engagement with Greek art, architecture and ideas is neither to misread it nor to deign it a ‘manifesto of triumphant Hellenism’Footnote 37 but to recuperate it as a Lycian triumph of Greek appropriation.
By the late fifth century members of the Lycian elite were speaking Greek, and some had even adopted Greek names.Footnote 38 Still, Arbinas’ enthusiasm for Greek culture was exceptional, extending far beyond art. Thanks to two verse inscriptions accompanied by poetic signatures at the Letoon, the extra-urban sanctuary of Xanthus, we know that he engaged both a Greek diviner (μάντις, CEG 888.ii.18) named Symmachus from Pellana in the Peloponnese and a Greek physical trainer (παιδοτρίβας, CEG 889.ii.7) whose name is lost. As Andrej Petrovic argues, the authors’ designation of their poems as δῶρα (‘gifts’) for Arbinas (CEG 888.i.19, 889.ii.8) suggests that they were not itinerant professionals but personally associated with the dynast and/or resident in Lycia for a longer period of time.Footnote 39 Arbinas’ approval of these epigrams and their signatures for inscription suggests that he wished to publicize his relationship with Greek professionals to all who came to the Letoon, Lycians foremost among them. In the terms of Pierre Bourdieu,Footnote 40 Greek cultural products were a cultural capital Arbinas was eager to appropriate and display to reap the symbolic profits of distinction, setting himself apart from other dynasts, his courtiers and other elites who either did not possess it or possessed less of it. Scholars have noted the apparent weakness of Arbinas’ rule:Footnote 41 developing and displaying a distinctive cultural capital seems to have been a strategy to set himself apart on the local stage. It is as a cultural capital that we shall examine the Greek verse inscriptions of Arbinas and his father Gergis.
II. LYCIAN ALLUSIONS TO GREEK POETRY IN CEG 177 AND 888
In this section I assume an implied reader to allow a maximal interpretation of intertexts as meaningful allusions.Footnote 42 In the next section I will suggest in what ways a Lycian audience could have come to understand these allusions and deploy the epigrams as ‘social weapons’.
A new hero, a new centre (CEG 177 = SGO 17/10/01)
Gergis’ pillar tomb, the ‘Inscribed Pillar’, was probably set up in the late fifth century on the Xanthian ‘agora’ north of the acropolis.Footnote 43 Sporting the first extant Greek epigram on a Lycian monument and crowned by a statue of the dynast himself, this monument would have awed all who saw it, but most of all those who understood its Greek allusions. Here is the text and translation:
From the time the sea rent Europe asunder from Asia, no one of the Lycians ever dedicated such a stēlē to the twelve gods in the pure sanctuary of the agora, this immortal monument of deeds and war. This Gergis, son of Harpagus, having beaten on all occasions with his hands in wrestling the Lycians then in his age group, and having sacked many acropoleis with the help of Athena, sacker of cities, gave a share of kingship to his relatives; for the sake of which things the immortals rendered him rightful thanks. He slaughtered seven hoplites, Arcadian men, in a day, and to Zeus he set up the most trophies of all mortals, and he crowned the house of Karika with most beautiful deeds.
The opening verse announces the poet's distinctive mode of glorification: the appropriation and refashioning of Greek poetry. The first line is taken whole from the beginning of a famous epigram attributed to Simonides (45 FGE) celebrating a Delian League victory over the Persians, probably at Cyprus (450/449).Footnote 44 Already in 1900 Otto Benndorf argued that this quotation was polemical.Footnote 45 The Delian League had compelled Lycia to join at some point in the fifth century, perhaps in preparations for Eurymedon.Footnote 46 By the beginning of the Peloponnesian War, however, Lycia had defected, and Thucydides reports (2.69) that in 430/429 the stratēgos Melesandrus was killed in Lycia and his troops routed on an expedition collecting funds. Now on display on the Xanthian acropolis, Benndorf suggested that Simonides’ image of the continental divide of Europe and Asia no longer prefigured the Athenians’ defeat of Persia but Lycia's defeat of Athens.Footnote 47
This Simonidean epigram made for fine spoils, indeed: judging from allusions to it in verse inscriptions on Athenian public monuments,Footnote 48 the poem was well known and highly valued. As if its first line were not enough, Paola Ceccarelli has shown that the first four lines of CEG 177 respond carefully to the first four lines of the Simonidean epigram.Footnote 49 I quote these here, emphasizing the parallels (Simon. 45.870–3 FGE):
From the time when the sea rent Europe asunder from Asia and rushing Ares held sway over men's cities, no deed of men took place upon the earth of such a kind, simultaneously on land and by sea.
Additionally, Ceccarelli makes the tentative suggestion that the description of Gergis’ wrestling victories (CEG 177.5–6) might recall Simonides’ image in the final couplet of Asia groaning as she is pummelled by the Greek ‘fists’ of naval and infantry battle (μέγα δ’ ἔστενεν Ἀσὶς ὑπ’ αὐτῶν | πληγεῖσ’ ἀμφοτέραις χερσὶ κράτει πολέμου, Simon. 45.876–7 FGE).Footnote 50 This echo is attractive, especially in light of how intently CEG 177 recalls its Simonidean model. On this reading, the poet of CEG 177 fashions Gergis as the avenger not only of Lycia but of all Asia, giving Athens the proverbial chair.
The Simonidean allusion of CEG 177 has received the lion's share of scholarly attention,Footnote 51 and so we turn now to two intertexts that have been largely ignored.Footnote 52 The first is to tragedy, the Athenian literary genre par excellence. The poet's description of Gergis’ wrestling talent (ἀριστεύσας τὰ ἅπαντα | [χε]ρσὶ πάλην, 5–6) echoes the conclusion of an important speech in Sophocles’ Trachiniae, where the herald Lichas reveals to Deianeira that her husband Heracles has fallen for Iole, princess of Oechalia, and taken her home with him. Lichas concludes his unfortunate news: ὡς τἄλλ’ ἐκεῖνος πάντ’ ἀριστεύων χεροῖν | τοῦ τῆσδ’ ἔρωτος εἰς ἅπανθ’ ἥσσων ἔφυ (‘As in other matters he altogether excelled with his hands, he was altogether defeated by his desire for this girl’, 488–9).
Scholars have long cited this passage as a parallel for CEG 177.5–6, as the rare phrase πάντ’ ἀριστεύω refers to wrestling only in these two passages.Footnote 53 Seeing as Heracles’ portrayal in Trachiniae was famous enough to be alluded to in an epigram of the fourth-century Daochus Monument in Delphi,Footnote 54 we might consider another intentional allusion to this play in CEG 177. As argued by Louis Robert,Footnote 55 Heracles was the interpretatio Graeca of the Anatolian rider-god Kakasbos worshipped in Lycia and thus worthy of dynastic emulation. Yet, the Heracles of Sophocles’ Trachiniae offers further attractions for Gergis. Heracles, we recall, had won an archery contest for Iole's hand and, upon being rebuffed by her father Eurytus, sacked the city and took her by force. If any Athenian tragedy were to be popular in Lycia, it would be Trachiniae: Heracles’ aretai, archery and city-sacking, were key components of Lycian excellence, and dynasts made a point of celebrating their achievements in them.Footnote 56 The Sophoclean allusion in CEG 177 thus models Gergis on a fittingly ‘Lycian’ Heracles. Further, for most of the tragedy Heracles is off-stage on Euboea consecrating altars and sacrificing to Zeus.Footnote 57 In this way too Sophocles’ Heracles is a fitting model for Gergis, who also prided himself on his piety to Trqqas, the Lycian storm god analogous to Zeus;Footnote 58 the Inscribed Pillar's Lycian Chronicle even celebrates Gergis’ dedication of altars in Trqqas’ sanctuaries, much like the dedications of Heracles.Footnote 59 As a result, on reaching the climactic boast of CEG 177 that no mortal ever set up more trophies to Zeus than Gergis (Ζηνὶ δὲ π<λ>ε̃στα τρόπαια β<ρ>οτῶν ἔ[στ]ησεν ἁπάν<τ>ων, 11), the reader, aware of the Sophoclean intertext, can appreciate that Gergis has even surpassed Heracles.Footnote 60
The sensitive fashioning in CEG 177 of a Lycian hero from the cloth of Greek poetry is also on display in an allusion to Hesiod's Theogony. When Gergis sacked many cities, his poet notes that the gods thanked him: ὧν χάριν ἀθάνατοί οἱ ἀπεμν<ή>σαντο δικαίαν (‘for which things the immortals rendered him just thanks in return’, CEG 177.9). Scholars have long cited as a parallel Hes. Theog. 503, οἵ οἱ ἀπεμνήσαντο χάριν εὐεργεσιάων (‘[the Cyclopes] who rendered him [Zeus] thanks in return for his benefactions’).Footnote 61 The possibility of meaningful allusion has not to my knowledge been discussed, but the context of Theog. 503 suggests the passage's attractions to a Lycian audience. At Theog. 453–506 Hesiod narrates Zeus's birth and defeat of his father Cronus, putting him on the path to rule the immortals. Gergis’ trajectory bears obvious resemblances to Zeus's: Zeus, for example, excels like Gergis in wrestling, with which skill he will defeat his father Cronus (βίηι καὶ χερσί, Theog. 490). The phrase ἀπεμνήσαντο χάριν occurs at the close of this succession narrative in the lines quoted below (Theog. 501–6):
He released from grievous bonds the brothers from his father, sons of Ouranos, whom his father bound in folly; and they rendered him thanks in return for his benefactions and gave him thunder and the flashing thunderbolt and lightning, which earlier huge Gaia had hidden; reliant on these he rules mortals and immortals.
In freeing his uncles, the Cyclopes, Zeus resembles Gergis, who after sacking many cities gave a share of power to his relatives (συνγενέσιν δῶκε μέρος βασιλέας, CEG 177.8). Moreover, this episode of Zeus and the Cyclopes would have strong appeal to a Lycian audience: a tradition first witnessed by Strabo (8.6.11) holds that the walls of Tiryns were built by seven Cyclopes summoned from Lycia; and this Hesiodic passage depicts the very moment at which Zeus, in receiving thunder and lightning, assumed the attributes defining his Lycian analogue, the storm god Trqqas.
Given our poet's careful choice of hypotexts, it is tempting to push this Hesiodic allusion a step further. Immediately before freeing the Cyclopes, Zeus places the stone regurgitated by Cronus at Delphi to be both a σῆμα (‘sign’) and a θαῦμα (‘wonder’) for generations to come (Theog. 498–500):
This [the stone] Zeus fixed in the earth of broad ways in most holy Pytho, beneath the hollows of Parnassus, to be a sign for future time, a marvel for mortal men.
Hesiod here offers an aetion for the Delphic omphalos which marked the sanctuary as the centre of the world. Might our poet, thinking of the Lycian monument on which his epigram was to be inscribed, have hoped his reader would reflect on the Delphic omphalos preceding the passage to which he alluded? He does not, to be sure, describe the Inscribed Pillar in explicitly omphalic terms as a sēma or thauma. But it was certainly both: as Gergis’ tomb it was a sēma, and its quality as a thauma is announced at the start of the epigram ([ο]ὐδές πω Λυκίων στήλην τοιάνδε ἀνέθηκ<ε>ν, ‘no one of the Lycians ever set up such a stēlē’, CEG 177.2). On this reading, the poet appropriates the Delphic omphalos for the Inscribed Pillar in order to identify Xanthus as a new, yet ancient, centre of the oikoumenē. While an allusion to this passage may seem tenuous on textual grounds alone, it becomes more plausible in light of an action of Gergis’ son, Arbinas. CEG 888 commemorates his consultation of none other than the Delphic oracle on the matter of the dedication of his statue in the Letoon (Πυθῶι ἐρωτήσας Λητῶι μ’ ἀνέθηκεν ἑαυτο[ῦ] | εἰκόνα, CEG 888.i.9–10).Footnote 62 Arbinas’ manifest interest in Delphi suggests that his father's court may likewise have been intrigued by a play with Hesiod's aetion of the sanctuary's emblematic monument.
Taken together, the allusions of CEG 177 assert Xanthus and her dynast Gergis as central to, yet culturally distinct from, the inhabited Greek world. What was Greek has become Lycian: her Heracles is a Lycian warrior, her Zeus has become Trqqas, and even Delphi makes way for Xanthus.
Like father, like son, but better (CEG 888 = SGO 17/10/03)
The same allusivity characterizes CEG 888, a collection of epigrams inscribed on a statue base of Arbinas in the Letoon. In these poems, repeated allusions to CEG 177 and the Iliad fashion Arbinas as a Lycian Homeric hero who has even surpassed his father. The very monument on which CEG 888 is inscribed declares the son's desire to compete with him: although smaller than the Inscribed Pillar, it too is a monumental rectangular statue base inscribed in Greek and Lycian on all four sidesFootnote 63 which supports a statue of the dynast.Footnote 64 But the difference is obvious: instead of a twelve-line Greek epigram occupying part of one face, Arbinas’ monument boasts over fifty Greek verses inscribed on two faces all to themselves. The wide face presents a seventeen-line epigram in hexameters (CEG 888.i) followed by a sphragis, an elegiac couplet declaring the epigram to be the work of Symmachus of Pellana (CEG 888.ii). I shall refer to the verses of this side as Symmachus’ poem. The narrow face bears thirty-four extant verses, with perhaps eight to ten missing from the beginning, in a mix of hexameter and elegiacs (CEG 888.iii) without a sphragis. I shall call these the verses on the narrow face.Footnote 65
As CEG 177 took its structure from the Simonidean poem, Symmachus’ takes its structure from CEG 177. Both epigrams begin by describing the monument they accompany (CEG 177.1–4, 888.i.1–3); narrate the dynast's achievements, especially in youth (177.5–8, 888.i.4–7); affirm his divine favour (177.9, 888.i.8–9); and conclude with additional achievements and a statement of familial piety (177.9–12, 888.i.11–17). Borrowed diction reinforces structural similarity. In line 5, for example, the description of young Arbinas sacking three towns in a month (ἀ̣ρ[χῆι] ἐφ’ ἡλικίας πέρσας ἐμ μηνὶ τρία ἄσ[τη], CEG 888.i.5) combines reference to three passages of CEG 177: Gergis’ praise as best of his age-group (τῶν τότ’ ἐν ἡλικίαι, 6); celebration of his sacking many acropoleis with the help of Athena, sacker of cities ([πο]λλὰς δὲ ἀκροπόλες σὺν Ἀθηναίαι πτολιπόρθηι | [π]έρσας, 7–8); and his slaughter of seven Arcadians in one day (ἑπτὰ δὲ ὁπλίτας κτεῖνεν ἐν ἡμέραι Ἀρκάδας ἄνδρας, 10). At the same time as these echoes suggest Arbinas’ likeness to his father, they assert his higher order of magnitude. While young Gergis was busy wrestling, Arbinas was out sacking cities; although Gergis killed seven men in a day, Arbinas sacked three towns in a month.
Arbinas’ distinction from his father, however, is brought about even more through allusions to the Iliad. In his publication of the epigrams for Arbinas, Jean Bousquet noted copious echoes of Lycian portions of the Iliad; he did not, however, discuss the significance of the individual parallels that he observed.Footnote 66 Although in some cases Bousquet seems to cast too broad a net to gather such parallels,Footnote 67 several of his passages make compelling cases for Homeric allusion. I shall examine a selection below.
In one instance Symmachus pointedly appropriates the Iliad to elevate Arbinas over his father. Symmachus’ description of Arbinas’ sieges (πολλὰ μὲν ἄστεα ἔπερσε, CEG 888.i.12) recapitulates CEG 177.7–8 (πολλὰς δὲ ἀκροπόλες … πέρσας), but by substituting ἄστεα for ἀκροπόλες he alludes to the Catalogue of Ships, where Heracles is described as ‘having sacked many towns’ (πέρσας ἄστεα πολλά, Il. 2.660) in the same metrical position. Given that the Homeric passage appears to be the only other collocation of these words in a phrase,Footnote 68 allusion seems possible and would be of a piece with Arbinas’ iconographical programme strongly featuring Heracles.Footnote 69 Symmachus’ Homeric allusion thus dresses Gergis down: both may have sacked many cities, but Arbinas did so in Heraclean style.
Another parallel concerns the Lycians’ mythical king and lord of Xanthus, Sarpedon.Footnote 70 As the Iliad seems to offer an aetion for the hero's reception of cult on the Xanthian acropolis (Il. 16.676–83), his attractions to Arbinas are obvious.Footnote 71 Symmachus seems to allude to Sarpedon with the phrase πάντ’ ἐμ πᾶσι πρέπων (CEG 888.i.14), which echoes a description of Sarpedon's excellence in Iliad Book 12 (ὃ δ’ ἔπρεπε καὶ διὰ πάντων, ‘he stood out even among all men’, 12.104). Not only is this the only extant attestation of πρέπω διὰ πάντων or ἐν πᾶσιν before CEG 888, but also it occurs in the description of the Lycian contingent preceding the book's famous Lycian scenes, including Sarpedon's exhortation of Glaucus (12.310–28) and the Lycians’ attack on the Greek wall (12.329–441). Symmachus’ allusion to Sarpedon thus both likens Arbinas to his mythical predecessor and evokes some of his and the Lycians’ most memorable words and deeds.
We would be better able to evaluate the extent of the allusive programme in CEG 888 were the verses on the narrow face better preserved. There is, however, a tantalizing hemistich which merits attention: κῆλ̣[α] θ̣εῶν μὲν ἐγώ (‘I … the bolts of the gods’, CEG 888.iii.43). While the best-known κῆλα from the Iliad are Apollo's arrows of plague (κῆλα θεοῖο, Il. 1.53, 1.383), κῆλα figure prominently in a major simile at Il. 12.278–89, in which the stones volleyed across the Greek wall by both sides are compared to a violent snowstorm sent by Zeus, the snow figured as ‘those bolts of his’ (τὰ ἃ κῆλα, 12.280). This simile directly precedes Zeus's rousing of his son Sarpedon to fight (12.290–3). The poor preservation of CEG 888 here makes it difficult to tell the speaker's precise reason for invoking κῆλα θεῶν, but in light of his comparison of Arbinas to Achilles and other heroes, whose names are now lost, several lines later (CEG 888.iii.45), it seems possible that the ‘bolts of the gods’ may be meant to evoke the fierce battle between Greeks and Lycians in the Iliad.
III. ALLUSIVE EPIGRAMS AS LYCIAN ‘SOCIAL WEAPONS’
In no way, then, may we categorize the engagement of CEG 177 or CEG 888 with Greek poetry as ‘banal reminiscence’ or as ‘a superficial smattering of Greek’.Footnote 72 Rather, these epigrams allude intensely to Greece's vast poetic tradition to assert the distinctly Lycian identity of their dynasts and even, in the case of CEG 177, the city's central position in the Greek oikoumenē as an Athenian rival, a new Delphi, proudly her own. But is this how Lycians read these poems? Did they catch these references, almost Hellenistic in their surgical precision? Earlier scholars may have dismissed this possibility out of hand, but several considerations seem to make it plausible. As we have seen, these poets’ choice of passages relevant to Lycian culture suggests that they were writing with an appreciative Lycian audience in mind. Moreover, monuments and epigrams are exorbitantly expensive. Given that Gergis and Arbinas invested in bringing Greek trainers, diviners, artisans and poets to their courts, it is hard not to imagine their eagerness to appreciate these epigrams’ most valuable asset, that is, their allusive appropriation of the Greek poetic tradition.
How, then, could the Lycians have gained the knowledge of Greek poetry necessary to interpret such recherché poetry? Two social mechanisms suggest themselves. The first is Greek education. We have seen already that Arbinas had a Greek physical trainer (παιδοτρίβης) who composed an epigram for him inscribed in the Letoon (CEG 889); scholars have suggested that Arbinas likewise received an education in Greek mousikē.Footnote 73 Were this the case, we could reasonably assume that at least some in Lycia's dominant class adopted this fashion as well to keep up with their dynasts’ growing and ever more sophisticated appetite for Greek cultural capital.
A broader, yet still exclusive, audience of elites could have understood these epigrams’ allusions through their recitation and/or discussion at social gatherings of the court, especially dynastic banquets or symposia. Here the dynast would profit from putting to display his poet, an objectified cultural capital, to his courtiers, with whom the poet could discuss his latest composition according to Greek sympotic custom.Footnote 74 The possibility of Greek poetry's performance at dynastic symposia is established by the signatures of CEG 888 and 889, which reveal, as discussed in the first section, a personal relationship between the authors and Arbinas. As ritualized friends, these Greek professionals and poets would be welcome guests at his table. Still more intriguingly, a mid fourth-century verse inscription (SGO 17/19/03) on the monumental tomb of Apollonius in East Lycia, near Olympus, closely links dynastic drinking to Greek poetry. The epigram is inscribed below a relief depicting a funerary banquet, at which Apollonius reclines with a rhyton in hand, and complements the relief with sympotic themes:Footnote 75
Having died, here I lie, Apollonius, son of Hellaphilus. I did business justly, I always had a pleasurable life while living, eating and drinking and sporting. But go, faring well.
As Draycott notes, κεῖμαι in the first line refers not only to Apollonius’ eternal rest inside the tomb but also to his representation on it, reclining with drinking horn aloft.Footnote 76 In this way, the Greek epigram glosses Hellaphilus’ son as a Greek symposiast. Might this iconotext be evidence that in life as well as in death Apollonius enjoyed Greek poetry in the cups?
We need not assume, then, that Gergis, Arbinas and other Lycians had memorized thousands of Greek verses to be able to interpret such allusive epigrams: rather, their poets could interpret these poems for them. Thus, the group of Lycian cognoscenti would have been restricted in the first place to the dynasts themselves and their social circle at court. In this way these allusive epigrams could serve as social weapons, surgically sharpened to carve distinctions between the dynasts and their courtiers who invested in the cultural capital of Greek poetry and those who did not. We may, in fact, catch a significant glimpse of this competition of taste in Symmachus’ poem. At the beginning of his epigram, Symmachus praises Arbinas as συνέσει δυνάσει τε κ[ράτιστος] (‘most powerful in intelligence and strength’, CEG 888.i.4). Symmachus returns to the theme of intelligence in his sphragis: Σύμμαχος Εὐμήδεος Πελλανεὺς μάντις ἀ[μύμων] | δῶρον ἔτευξε ἐλεγῆια Ἀρβίναι εὐσυνέ[τω]ς (‘Symmachus, Eumedes’ son of Pellana, a [blameless] prophet, wrought these verses intelligently as a gift for Arbinas’, CEG 888.ii.18–19). Following his apparent use of the Homeric formula μάντις ἀμύμων, the adverb εὐσυνέτως here refers at least in part to Symmachus’ ‘intelligent’ use of Homeric allusion.Footnote 77 By a feat of skilled ring composition, Arbinas’ σύνεσις at the beginning of the epigram takes on a literary valence: like his intelligent poet, Arbinas embodies the Greek cultural capital necessary to appreciate and judge the value of this allusive epigram.Footnote 78 In effect, Symmachus cultivates a public image of Arbinas as a skilled reader of Greek verse, so that Greek poetic technē is asserted as a new aretē required of any Lycian who would compete with Arbinas for pre-eminence.
Courtiers take cues from the top, and so it is easy to imagine Gergis’ and Arbinas’ allusive Greek Muse forming a distinct taste for Greek poetry at their courts. Symmachus’ proclamation of Arbinas’ intelligence acts as a gauntlet thrown: Arbinas understands and values this poem; I should, but can I? Rolf Strootman has argued persuasively that in the Hellenistic courts allusive poetry kindled competition at symposia between courtiers vying to explain the text in the presence of the king, thereby displaying their cultural capital in hopes of winning royal favour.Footnote 79 Much the same can be imagined in the Xanthian court: seeing their dynast's investment in Greek poetry would prompt courtiers to do the same, keeping up with his taste in order to distinguish themselves from their own rivals.
IV. ANTICIPATING ALEXANDRIA: LYCIAN EPIGRAMS AS PRE-HELLENISTIC COURT POETRY
So far we have examined CEG 177 and 888 in their historical context of late fifth- and early fourth-century Lycia as marking an innovative engagement with Greek cultural products for local dynastic gains. In this final section I adopt a diachronic perspective to compare this Lycian court poetry to that of the Hellenistic courts, especially that of Ptolemaic Alexandria. It is my hope that a brief consideration of some remarkable similarities between these literary productions—in terms of allusivity, intercultural dynamics, legitimate judgement of taste, and the social position of poets—will shed new light on each of these courts’ poetry, separated though they are by over a century and differences in culture.
As scholars in recent decades have moved Hellenistic poetry out of the supposedly insular Museum into the court, the purpose of its poets’ famed allusivity has been re-evaluated. Encouraged by Gregory Hutchinson's observation that Hellenistic poetry is not all ‘scholarly quizzes’,Footnote 80 Gregor Weber suggested that all poetry, even the allusive, was suitable for performance at the king's symposia,Footnote 81 and scholars increasingly emphasize the royal symposium as an important venue for performing and/or discussing new poetry from the Museum.Footnote 82 In the previous section I mentioned Strootman's most recent argument that relates Hellenistic allusivity to courtiers’ social struggles at court. The Lycian epigrams offer a useful corroboration of this argument: composed as they were without the resources of the Museum, they suggest that the arte allusiva developed not solely as a reflex of the Library but rather as a poetic technique to draw social distinctions. At the same time, however, not all courts develop tastes for highly allusive verse: the Argead court of Archelaus, for example, contemporary with Gergis and Arbinas, seems to be a notable exception.Footnote 83 We should consider what other characteristics uniting the Lycian and Alexandrian courts may have motivated their poets’ development of similarly allusive tastes.
First and most important, Xanthus and Alexandria initially shared marginal positions in the traditional Greek world, both geographically and culturally. With rising interest in geopoetics in the wake of the Milan Posidippus,Footnote 84 scholars of Hellenistic poetry have drawn attention to how Callimachus and others re-centre old Greece around Alexandria.Footnote 85 I have tried to demonstrate similar strategies in CEG 177 and suggested that a Hesiodic allusion may even appropriate the centrality of the Delphic omphalos for Gergis’ Inscribed Pillar in Xanthus. In fact, the first poet to move the omphalos explicitly is none other than Callimachus. In his very Hesiodic Hymn to Zeus, Callimachus replaces Hesiod's aetion of the Delphic omphalos with that of the Omphalian plain in Crete (Hymn 1.42–5), thereby relocating the omphalos, as Susan Stephens has argued, halfway between Delphi and Alexandria, the old centre and the new.Footnote 86 Manipulating more than just space, Stephens has demonstrated that some Ptolemaic poets incorporated Egyptian pharaonic ideology into their works, even to the extent of constructing parallel Greek and Egyptian narratives.Footnote 87 The allusive articulations of Zeus-Trqqas and a ‘Lycian’ Heracles in CEG 177 encourage a similar double vision. Both courts, then, not only appropriated Greek poetry to assert their own centrality, but at the same time inscribed their cultural difference into the very texts they took for their own.
Yet another commonality of the Lycian and Alexandrian courts related to their allusivity is their elevation of the king over the poet as the ultimate arbiter of poetic technē. It is well known that the Ptolemies promoted themselves as paragons of literary excellence: their children had world-renowned tutors,Footnote 88 they themselves wrote literary works,Footnote 89 they bested their intellectuals in their respective fieldsFootnote 90 and, most significantly, they appointed the head of their Museum.Footnote 91 Their poets, moreover, do not contest this claim but reinforce it. At Id. 17.112–16, for example, Theocritus declares that Ptolemy II always gives gifts to poets at the festivals of Dionysus in accordance with their works’ technē: Philadelphus is here portrayed as an impartial and objective judge of craft who makes cultural capital visible for all to see in the clear language of gifts. Then again, in Idyll 14, Philadelphus is lauded as εἰς ἄκρον ἁδύς (‘the pinnacle of sweetness’, 61), a claim which, by echoing Theocritus’ own programmatic term ἁδύ (Id. 1.1),Footnote 92 thereby praises Ptolemy as Theocritus’ best critic.Footnote 93 In late fourth-century Lycia, Symmachus’ sphragis does much the same in lauding Arbinas as the knowledgeable reader whose σύνεσις renders him best able to appreciate the value of Symmachus’ allusive verses.
In both Lycia and Alexandria, the elevation of the king to the top position in the field of cultural production seems to have grown out of not only their patronage of professionals in many cultural fields but also, crucially, these intellectuals’ extended stays at court. Archaic and Classical poets travelled the oikoumenē offering their services to a wide network of competing patrons;Footnote 94 the Hellenistic and Lycian poets seem instead to have put down roots. By acquiring a semi-permanent entourage of poets, entrance to which the ruler controlled, both Lycian dynasts and Ptolemaic kings elevated themselves to the pole position as arbiters of cultural capital. Theirs was the only opinion which mattered.
In closing, I would like to offer a final related suggestion regarding the social status of the Lycian poets. Scholars have recently emphasized that Hellenistic poets were fully fledged courtiers competing among the philoi for the king's favour.Footnote 95 A Hellenistic court poet such as Callimachus differs greatly in this respect from his Archaic and Classical counterparts, who like Simonides went from court to court seeking and accepting patronage where he went. What about Symmachus of Pellana? As I mentioned in the first section, Petrovic has argued that Symmachus’ and the anonymous trainer's designations of their epigrams as gifts for Arbinas reveal that both were personally associated with Arbinas; coupled with their professions as a physical trainer and a religious official of the Letoon,Footnote 96 we may reasonably assume that they resided in Lycia for some time. Being as they were in residence at courts of the powerful, these Lycian poets resemble the poets of the Hellenistic age far more than they do the Archaic poets. Were Symmachus and the παιδοτρίβης similarly enmeshed in the social world of court? At the very least we may say that Symmachus presents the value of his poetic gift in a strongly antagonistic spirit: he is a knowledgeable poet composing for a knowledgeable dynast, a claim which both distinguishes Arbinas and challenges his courtiers to prove their own distinction in his court. Symmachus is fully aware of the value of his cultural capital at court; in a way strongly reminiscent of Posidippus’, Callimachus’ and Apollonius’ lifestyles, I would suggest that Symmachus, too, carved out a position for himself as a genuine courtier.