Achilles’ Brutish Hellenism: Greek Identity in the Herōikos
2016; University of Chicago Press; Volume: 112; Issue: 1 Linguagem: Inglês
10.1086/689962
ISSN1546-072X
Autores Tópico(s)Classical Antiquity Studies
ResumoPrevious articleNext article FreeAchilles' Brutish Hellenism: Greek Identity in the HerōikosBenjamin McCloskeyBenjamin McCloskeyKansas State University Search for more articles by this author PDFPDF PLUSFull Text Add to favoritesDownload CitationTrack CitationsPermissionsReprints Share onFacebookTwitterLinked InRedditEmailQR Code SectionsMorePhilostratus' Herōikos depicts two anonymous interlocutors who meet and talk. One of the two, known as the Vinedresser, spends much of their conversation informing the other, the Phoenician, about the true history of the heroes, most of which he claims to have learned from Protesilaos. Central to his account are three stories of acts of violence the revenant Achilles commits against humans. This article argues that these acts of violence may be understood as coherent and compatible manifestations of Achilles' cultural identity, which is both violent in its defense of Greece and hostile toward Rome.Authors of the Second Sophistic were interested, to put it mildly, in defining what it meant to be a Greek. One must add, however, a necessary proviso: a Greek of the Roman empire. The processes of self-definition were polyvalent and could look to the glorious Greek past, the sometimes-glorious Roman present, or both.1 This text's two interlocutors, the Vinedresser and the Phoenician, each participate in two different types of Hellenism often discussed in literature of the Second Sophistic.The Phoenician, despite his name, participates in the culture of the cosmopolitan Greek pepaideumenos, whose behavior is defined primarily through acquired, sophisticated language and culture.2 Like Favorinus, he is born a foreigner but performs Greek elite culture by wearing Ionian clothing, speaking Attic, and advertising his classical literary education.3 An urbane pepai-deumenos, he succinctly characterizes himself by admitting that, although he is so erudite that he recently dreamed he was reading the Iliad (6.3), he stopped believing that heroes were real when he grew up (7.10).4 Homer's literary heroes supplanted his belief in genuine heroes.The Vinedresser, for his part, participates in an archaizing type of Hellenism. This sort of Hellenism, that of the isolated, rural traditionalist, is characterized by a rejection or innocence of the modern world and, sometimes, an inherent paideia.5 The Vinedresser, although raised a cosmopolitan Greek, rejected modernity in preference for a spiritual and physical communion with Protesilaos, his handsome and garrulous local revenant (4.6–10). The alleged purity of his Hellenism, facilitated by his rural isolation, recalls Herodes' Herakles or Dio's Euboians.6 In contrast to the Phoenician, who does not believe heroes exist, the Vinedresser actually lives with a revenant hero in a friendly, perhaps erotic (10.2–4), cohabitation. The purity that grants the Vinedresser access to Protesilaos grants him access to Protesilaos' memory of real history. The Vinedresser's revelation of this real history to the Phoenician occupies most of the Herōikos, which concludes with his biography of the revenant Achilles.The Vinedresser's stories about the dead Achilles, including one aside prompted by the Phoenician, comprise the last fifth of the dialogue. Their privileged position as the text's final stories and their unusual content underscore their importance. While their setting on Leuke is derived from Arrian's Periplus, Achilles' actions within this setting are Philostratus' innovation.7 The backbone of the Vinedresser's biography of Achilles are his three stories about acts of violence Achilles perpetrates against humans. In the first story, which ranges from the Trojan war to the early third century CE, the Vinedresser explains why Achilles destroyed his homeland, Thessaly. In the second, the Vinedresser describes an incident in which Achilles ripped a woman limb from limb. The third describes how Achilles annihilated an Amazon army. To my knowledge, there has been no prior attempt to understand these three stories as a coherent whole: this will be the focus of my argument.This article argues that the figure of the dead Achilles, as characterized in the Vinedresser's three stories of his violence, represents an experimental sort of Greek identity.8 The dead Achilles commits three acts of violence against humans: (1) against Greeks who threaten Greece; (2) against a symbol of Rome; and (3) against women who dominate men. These actions are not arbitrary but may be understood as manifestations of Achilles' cultural values that are in tension with the practices and beliefs of the Hellenisms represented by the Vinedresser and Phoenician. We must, however, remember the proviso mentioned above: contained within these three stories are clues that allow the reader to detect, as subtext, Achilles' attitude toward Rome. I end by arguing that this text uses Achilles to consider, but reject as problematic, the possibility of violent, cultural resistance to Rome.1. Anger at Greek TraitorsThe first of the Vinedresser's violent stories recounts the estrangement between Achilles and the Thessalians that results in their destruction. This section is often understood as a genuine exploration of the history of a cult.9 I would, however, rather focus on how Philostratus uses this passage to characterize Achilles. The estrangement between Achilles and Thessaly initially develops along religious lines: the Thessalians repeatedly deny that Achilles is a god. As the relationship develops, however, Thessalian disbelief in Achilles' divinity takes on a political aspect: Thessalian rejections of Achilles necessarily reject panhellenism as well because Achilles is increasingly revealed as the sole divine protector of Greece. The climax of this episode, the destruction of Thessaly, may thus be understood as Achilles' extreme violence in the defense of Greece from traitors to panhellenism. The ending of the story also introduces the question, without answering it, of how Achilles views Rome's relationship with the Greek world. In the beginning, however, Thessaly is respectfully panhellenic.At first, Thessaly is characterized by internal unity, both political and religious, as well as by panhellenism. All Thessalians happily obey both Protesilaos and Achilles and collaborate with the rest of Greece during the Trojan war (33.22). After the war, the oracle at Dodona demands that all of Thessaly "sail to Troy and burn and slaughter every year to Achilles some offerings as to a god, others as proper to burials" (ἐς Τροίαν πλέοντας θύειν ὅσα ἔτη τῷ Ἀχιλλεῖ καὶ σφάττειν τὰ µὲν ὡς θεῷ, τὰ δὲ ὡς ἐν µοίρᾳ τῶν κειµένων, 53.8).10 All of Thessaly obeys. Because it is later revealed that Thessalian cities have religious autonomy, one may retrospectively realize that this passage also shows Thessalian religious unity (53.14). Thus the baseline for Thessalian behavior is unanimous domestic cooperation, panhellenism, and duplex honor to Achilles as dead hero and god.The first disruption to this unity is religious. So long as the Aiakidai, Achilles' family, rule Thessaly, this happy unanimity persists. The rites to Achilles, however, were later suppressed "by the tyrants who are said to have ruled the Thessalians after the Aeacidae" (ὑπὸ τῶν τυράννων … οἳ λέγονται µετὰ τοὺς Αἰακίδας ἄρξαι Θετταλῶν, 53.14). The Vinedresser does not explain their decision. He only notes that some cities abandoned the ritual, that some abandon it but promise to renew it later, and that some even continue it (53.14). This sudden disunity not only reveals that the Thessalian cities have religious autonomy but underscores that they had unanimously decided to honor Achilles previously. The tyrants disrupt the unity of the Thessalians by rejecting Achilles: they must be strongly motivated to so controversially suppress the cult of their civic hero-god.11Examination of the Thessalians' motives suggests political self-interest. Although the Vinedresser does not explain why the rites were suppressed, he make it clear that the rites were suppressed "by the tyrants who … ruled the Thessalians after the Aeacidae" (53.14). Inasmuch as they are labeled tyrants, they are presented as dynastically unconnected to their predecessors (and, likely, as usurpers). The tyrants underscore their disjuncture with the Aiakidai by making this sharp break with them, as is typical of tyrannies.12 We must, however, admit that these tyrants are in a special situation.13 Achilles was not merely revered by, but was the preeminent king of, the prior dynasty: he symbolizes them both religiously and politically. By allowing the ritual, the tyrants would annually risk evoking memories in the dēmos of their predecessors. The annual opportunity to be publicly evaluated against Achilles brings the tyrants risk with no clear reward. Thus, it seems, the tyrants suppress the rite to suppress the memory of Achilles. There is no religious justification for this move—as we shall see, it is criticized by a god—and it is hardly in the interest of Thessaly as a whole, since this Achilles undoubtedly has divine power. It is reasonable to conclude that the tyrants suppress the sacrifice in the interest of their legitimacy. Thus while this first disruption to Thessaly's relationship with Achilles is religious, it appears to be motivated by political self-interest. Such a motive will begin to characterize Thessalian decision-making.That political self-interest continues to motivate Thessaly's relationship with Achilles can be seen when a drought sends them to an oracle. The oracle commands them "to honor Achilles as was proper" (τιµᾶν τὸν Ἀχιλλέα ὡς θέµις, 53.15). Thessaly restores the rites to Achilles as dead ancestor but "removed from the performance of the ritual what they practiced for a god (interpreting 'as was proper' in this way)" (ἃ µὲν ὡς θεῷ ἐνόµιζον ἀφεῖλον τῶν δρωµένων, ἐξηγούµενοι ταύτῃ τὸ ὡς θέµις, 53.15). The oracle's demand that the ritual be restored must be considered divine criticism of the tyrants, yet Thessaly persists in its disregard for Achilles. Told to honor Achilles as is themis, the Thessalians decide that it is themis to honor him merely as a dead human—not as a god. No individual cities, moreover, are seen to resist dishonoring Achilles any longer. Thessaly publicly and unanimously denies Achilles' godhood, indicating that political self-interest—living tyrants over a dead monarch—continues to drive Thessaly. Their relationship, however, has not yet reached its nadir.Thessalian self-interest quickly ends this semi-reconciliation when Xerxes invades. The Thessalians unanimously medized and "abandoned once again their customs for Achilles" (ἐξέλιπον πάλιν τὰ ἐς τὸν Ἀχιλλέα νόµιµα, 53.15). This is because "a ship sailed from Aigina to Salamis, carrying the shrine of the Aeacidae to help the Greeks" (ναῦς ἐς Σαλαµῖνα ἐξ Αἰγίνης ἔπλευσεν ἄγουσα ἐπὶ ξυµµαχίᾳ τοῦ Ἑλληνικοῦ τὸν τῶν Αἰακιδῶν οἶκον, 53.15). Offered the choice to ally with Xerxes (and the Persians) or with Achilles (and the Greeks), all of Thessaly chooses to abandon Achilles.14 Naked political self-interest drives them. Yet because the Thessalians refuse to ally with Greece, they realize that they can no longer worship Achilles. Achilles, moreover, becomes sole panhellenic champion: Greece seeks aid from him alone.15 Achilles and Greece are now conjoined politically. The Thessalians recognize this, which is why these new enemies of Greece abandon him. They can neither reject Greece without rejecting Achilles nor reject Achilles without rejecting Greece. History will provide them with one last chance to align themselves with Achilles and Greece.After Alexander's capture of Thessaly there is a moment when the Thessalians seem to finally return to political unity with Achilles. Alexander conquers Thessaly and forces its participation in his expedition (53.16).16 At Troy, he declares his alliance with Achilles. For the first time since the Trojan war, the Thessalians find themselves, albeit involuntarily, in a panhellenic army, at Troy, allied with Achilles against Asia.17 Indeed, "the Thessalians took an interest in Achilles, and rode around his tomb all the horses which Alexander was bringing from Thessaly" (ἐπεστράφησαν οἱ Θετταλοὶ τοῦ Ἀχιλλέως καὶ ἵππον τε, ὁπόσην Ἀλέξανδρος ἐκ Θετταλίας ἦγε, περιήλασαν τῷ τάφῳ, 53.16). As they depart, they "shouted from their horses for Achilles, with Balius and Xanthus as well, to join them against Darius" (ἐκάλουν δὲ αὐτὸν ἐπὶ Δαρεῖον αὐτῷ Βαλίῳ τε καὶ Ξάνθῳ, βοῶντες ταῦτα ἀπὸ τῶν ἵππων, 53.16). The Thessalians underscore their shared love of horses to emphasize their kinship while they request Achilles' help.18 In one stroke, Thessaly reunites with Achilles and Greece.Achilles is, moreover, still the only revenant who aids Greece. Of all those whom Alexander could have invoked, he singles out Achilles.19 As during Xerxes' invasion, Achilles is the only revenant who helps Greeks kill foreigners. At this moment, the story of Thessaly and Achilles has come full circle. After Troy, Thessalian self-interest caused centuries of estrangement, but back at Troy they re-accept Achilles as their ally. Unfortunately, they are lying—on account of political self-interest.The Thessalians do not even wait for Alexander's death to abandon Achilles and panhellenism again. Once Alexander reaches India, "the Thessalians cut back on offerings and sent only a black lamb" (ξυνέστειλαν οἱ Θετταλοὶ τὰ ἐναγίσµατα καὶ ἔπεµπον ἄρνα µέλανα, 53.17)—when they even bother to go. Once Alexander is distracted, they reveal that they had been merely placating him. Even in this—perhaps greatest—moment of panhellenic triumph over foreigners, even when they have no reason whatsoever to reject Achilles, the Thessalians honor Achilles only so long as it pleases their current overlord. Once Alexander crosses the horizon, they instantly and cynically cheapen the ritual, revealing their insincerity. Their pathetic attempt at the minimum—if they can even be bothered to go to Troy, they will not bother to sacrifice correctly—speaks of their profound disbelief in Achilles' divinity. Afraid of Alexander, the Thessalians feign Hellenism and respect for Achilles just as readily as they had rejected both for Xerxes.The Thessalians have no obvious reason to doubt Achilles: he ends a drought, repulses Xerxes, and crushes Darius. They are urged by two oracles and Alexander to ally with Achilles and Greece. Yet their behavior has been nothing but self-interested: whether shoring up the legitimacy of their tyrants, placating Persia, or placating Macedonia, their religious and political practices are guided only by political expedience. Their attachment to Achilles is as insincere as their attachment to panhellenism. This final insult crosses the line: "Achilles was enraged" (ἐµήνισεν ὁ Ἀχιλλεύς, 53.17).20 Achilles' carefully chosen punishment shows that he is well aware that selfishness has driven Thessaly.Achilles loses his temper in a curious inversion of Iliad Book 1: he asks his mother to harm Thessaly for their disrespect to both himself and Greece.21 Achilles has Thetis arrange for Thessaly to be destroyed by Rome in punishment for financial irregularities in its kochlos industry.22 The Thessalians' criminal greed has led them to break the law to obtain more of the extremely expensive commodity than is due to them (53.22). As a result of the Romans' punishment, "fines hang over [the Thessalians]" (λίθοι … ἐπικρέµανταί σφισιν, 53.23) which compel the sale of their homes, fields, and slaves.23 Finally, "many do not perform funeral offerings to their parents; for they had to sell even their tombs" (οὐδὲ τοῖς γονεῦσιν οἱ πολλοὶ ἐναγίζουσιν· ἀπέδοντο γὰρ καὶ τοὺς τάφους, 53.23). Achilles is well aware of what motivates the Thessalians. They have repeatedly sided with foreigners out of self-interest, so he arranges for foreigners to destroy Thessaly by punishing them for criminal self-interest. This last act of Thessalian selfishness is punished by the loss of all they had selfishly increased: their houses, fields, and slaves. Achilles also pointedly strips them of their ancestors' tombs. Since they will not honor him at his, they lose the tombs of all other ancestors.24 Thessaly has earned its destruction, at least in Achilles' mind.Achilles so loses patience with his own people that he destroys them. Although this passage purports to only address the hymns of the Thessalian ritual at Achilles' tomb (52.3), we can see that it goes far beyond its remit. It reveals that Achilles, the sole divine protector of Greeks, chooses an apropos annihilation for Greeks who offended him religiously and politically.In certain ways, this Achilles is conventional. Like his peers, he inhabits his tomb, helps his friends, and hurts his enemies. Yet, unlike his peers, who spend most of their time aimlessly haunting the Troad, Achilles repeatedly intervenes in the political trajectory of Greece. What causes him to stand out even further, however, is his hard-line stance. Other revenants, as we will see below, grow angry at individuals; Achilles, however, is enraged by political and religious disagreements on an ethnic level. Other angry revenants kill individuals; Achilles, in his rage, destroys his homeland. Achilles becomes something akin to the political officer of Hellenism: the less panhellenism Greeks display, the more they risk annihilation. Achilles ultimately rejects negotiation in favor of unilateral violence.25 This first story of violence characterizes Achilles as the sole panhellenic champion who destroys anyone domestic or foreign who threatens Greece.A certain dissonance is, however, introduced at the end of this story: Achilles defends Greece from foreigners but uses Rome to destroy Thessaly. I would suggest that this dissonance—which remains unresolved for now—subtly problematizes where Rome rests on the spectrum ranging from Greek to not-Greek. In Achilles' mind, are the Romans: (1) Greeks; (2) less non-Greek than the Thessalians; (3) acceptable non-Greeks; or, (4) the tool of the moment? The reader may consider how this violent, panhellenic Achilles thinks of Rome but cannot yet hazard an answer. We may thus proceed with Rome in the back of our minds to the second story of Achilles' violence.2. Anger at RomeAs this episode ends, an interruption by the Phoenician diverts the Vinedresser onto a lengthy description of the revenant Achilles' lifestyle and poetry.26 After he has satisfied the Phoenician, he returns to his second story of violence, which narrates Achilles' killing of a slave. In analyzing this section, I make three arguments that build off one another. First, Achilles' motivation in killing the slave is concealed by Achilles and omitted by the Vinedresser. Since the meaning of this episode hinges upon Achilles' motivation, and since the Vinedresser has already criticized Homer for suppressing scandals through omission, I argue that the text problematizes the interpretation of this killing. Second, the modern interpretation of Achilles' motive—lingering resentment over his death—is not supported by the text. Third, the reader may use textual clues to discover anger at Rome behind Achilles' violence.The Vinedresser briefly recounts Achilles' killing of a Trojan slave (56.1–10). After befriending a merchant who stopped on Leuke, Achilles asks him to go to Troy to buy a particular slave. Achilles says he wants her "Because … she is from the same line as Hector and his ancestors and is the last of the blood of the children of Priam and Dardanus" (ὅτι … γέγονεν ὅθενπερ ὁ Ἕκτωρ καὶ οἱ πρὸ αὐτοῦ ἄνω, λοιπὴ δ' ἐστὶ τοῦ Πριαµιδῶν τε καὶ Δαρδανιδῶν αἵµατος, 56.7). When the merchant, believing that Achilles is in love, brings her to Leuke, Achilles insists she stay on the boat until the merchant departs. As the merchant and his crew sail away, "They were not more than a stade away from shore, when the girl's scream reached them—Achilles was tearing her apart, and ripping limb from limb" (οὔπω στάδιον ἀπεῖχον τῆς γῆς καὶ οἰµωγὴ προσέβαλεν αὐτοῖς τῆς κόρης, διασπωµένου αὐτὴν τοῦ Ἀχιλλέως καὶ µελιστὶ ξαίνοντος, 56.10). The Vinedresser abruptly ends the story and moves on to the last story of Achilles' violence. As scholars have realized, there is a major interpretive problem with this passage: why does Achilles kill this woman and why in this way? Two provocative omissions in this passage conceal Achilles' motive in killing the woman.The first omission is that Achilles does not tell the merchant why he wants the woman. When Achilles asks the merchant to go buy her, the merchant asks him the obvious question: why does he want her? Achilles' response is that she is the last member of the Trojan royal family (56.7). This explains who the woman is but not why he wants her. The merchant is aware that this answer is inadequate: as he leaves he interprets what he thinks Achilles means: "The merchant thought that Achilles was in love, so he bought the girl" (ὁ µὲν δὴ ἔµπορος ἐρᾶν τὸν Ἀχιλλέα ᾤετο καὶ πριάµενος τὴν κόρην, 56.8). The merchant, treating Achilles' mysterious statement as oracular in its opacity, interprets his words as signifying erōs. If he is thinking of Polyxena, the slave's death at Achilles' hands quashes his reading.27 This takes us to the second omission: the Vinedresser's.The Vinedresser abruptly ends the story without explaining, much less justifying, the killing. Yet the Vinedresser has revealed himself to be effectively omniscient about Achilles. Not only has he memorized Achilles' poetry (55.3), but he knows the details of Achilles' marriage with Helen (54.12), his emotions (53.17), and things Achilles has done that no human witness survives (57.12–17). Because the Vinedresser knows everything else about Achilles, the reader has every reason to believe that he also knows his motivation, yet he does not reveal it. In light of the Vinedresser's earlier attack on Homer, this omission is provocative.The Vinedresser's omission in this passage plays with his earlier criticism of Homer. He had attacked Homer on the grounds that he "knew the truth, but changed much of it to benefit the subject he had chosen" (τὰ ἀληθῆ µὲν ἔµαθε, µετεκόσµησε δὲ πολλὰ ἐς τὸ συµφέρον τοῦ λόγου ὃν ὑπέθετο, 43.16). The dead Odysseus told Homer the truth about Troy on the condition that he depict Odysseus sympathetically by suppressing his murder of Palamedes (43.15). According to the Vinedresser, Homer's poetry is dishonest—and in need of correction—as a result. Yet the lynchpin of the Vinedresser's story of violence is Achilles' motive in killing the woman: if the reader cannot understand this, the entire episode remains meaningless. This is to say, the Vinedresser's crucial omission of Achilles' motive in killing the slave—in light of his earlier attack on Homer's own omissions—may encourage the reader, piqued, to consider whether the Vinedresser is suppressing his own scandal.28Scholars have indeed been piqued by this scene. Graham Anderson labels the killing as "bizarre" and "un-Hellenic," while Andreas Beschorner speaks of the "überraschendes Ende" of the passage.29 The killing is troubling because it is neither justified nor even explained. If Achilles' motive can be understood, does it support his positive portrayal in this text or is the Vinedresser participating in his own cover-up? Several scholars, including Anderson, have suggested that Achilles' motive is revenge: he kills the last Dardanid to avenge his own death during the Trojan war.30 While this is plausible, I would argue that the text does not support this.One objection is that, unlike many of his colleagues, the dead Achilles is a model of reconciliation compared to his peers. For example, Ajax is still so hateful that the earth around his tomb is thronged with plants that sicken Trojans (18.3). His most memorable moment after death is when he gets into a screaming match with local drunks about the Trojan war (18.4–5). Hektor, in turn, kills an Assyrian for insulting his service in the Trojan war (19.5–7). Even as revenants their egos remain unhappily intertwined with the war. Achilles, however, has moved on: he regularly holidays at his Trojan tomb. While there, he "visits and holds conversations with a few people and hunts wild animals" (προσδιαλέγεταί τισι καὶ ἐπιφοιτᾷ καὶ θηρία διώκει, 22.1). Patroklos, who lives year-round at Troy in Achilles' tomb, even prevents the murder of a Trojan shepherd (22.3). He could have enjoyed the frisson of the death of a Trojan but prevents it. This relaxed attitude toward Trojans shared by Achilles and Patroklos is incompatible with an analysis that attributes his motivation to bitterness. Achilles, in the revisionist atmosphere of the Herōikos, loses his traditional hostility toward Trojans—contrast the revenant Achilles' implacable hatred of Trojans explicitly linked to his death in Philostratus Life of Apollonius 4.12.Not only is the reading that Achilles killed the slave because of her connection with the Trojan war inconsistent with his general behavior, but it is also incompatible with how he bungles his plot. Achilles' careful preparations signal that he wanted the killing to be a secret. He discreetly singles out and befriends a devotee capable of procuring this woman (56.6). He quickly indebts him so, it seems, he can exploit him for this favor (56.6). When pressed for his motive, his answer is vague and misleading (56.6). Once the slave arrives, he avoids meeting her in the presence of the merchant, avoiding the need to dissemble (56.7). By singling out and lavishing a devotee with attention, Achilles ensures that he will get his victim—discreetly.31Everything Achilles has done up to this point has worked to conceal the killing, yet he spoils his plans at the last moment. As the merchant sails away, he hears her scream: he is still within earshot (56.10). Anderson argues that the merchant hears her because "[s]uch an incident has to be provided with a witness."32 This is unpersuasive. This text almost entirely derives its authority from the (effective) omniscience of Protesilaos: this makes Philostratus' switch to a human witness significant.33 Had Philostratus need of a witness for the sake of a witness alone, Protesilaos would have been both obvious and better. Compared to Protesilaos, the merchant disappoints: his human senses prevent him from witnessing much. Yet inasmuch as he is the witness, it is precisely his human perspective that distinguishes him from Protesilaos. By showing the killing through his eyes, Philostratus subtly bounds its chronology in a way he could not have if he had used (the omniscient) Protesilaos. The killing occurs after the merchant casts off but before he sailed one stade, or six hundred feet: only a few minutes have passed. The merchant's humanity reveals Achilles' failure to restrain himself for even the short time necessary for the merchant to leave earshot. This suggests that the killing is explosively passionate.Yet it is precisely this passion that suggests Achilles is not angry about his death. Achilles is calm enough to plot the slave's death, yet he loses control once he sees her. Yet Achilles regularly vacations at Troy (22.1). The slave herself lived at Troy. Achilles has, thus, spent many days, weeks, or months—however long he stays each year—as neighbor to this last Dardanid (and all her ancestors) and yet, on each visit to Troy, he leaves her (and left them) alone. Yet when he meets her on his beach, he cannot stop from almost instantly dismembering her live. It seems that something new has caused Achilles to coolly plan her secret killing and yet to lose control once he sees her. All of these points, taken together, suggest that his anger must be traced back to a stimulus other than his death.Achilles kills the woman not because of her association with the Trojan war, but nevertheless because she is the last member of the Trojan royal family. I would argue that the text makes certain clues available to the curious reader that allow a different analysis. Aspects of Achilles' behavior can, alongside the probable dramatic date of this passage, point to another motivation behind the killing.If we compare this scene to similar moments, we may see that the woman did nothing to upset Achilles. Protesilaos punishes two adulterers who plot crimes at his shrine (16.3–4); Ajax punishes shepherds who insult him at his tomb (18.4–5); Hektor punishes an Assyrian who abuses his statue to its face (18.6); Achilles will himself punish crimes committed on Leuke (56.11–57.17). These moments share two relevant qualities. Revenants punish humans in response to specific offenses; second, the crimes that revenants typically punish are committed at their places of power. The Trojan slave, however, is not seen to act, much less against Achilles, much less at one of his places of power. One can conclude that Achilles does not target her because of anything she has done. While I agree with Anderson's argument that Achilles kills her symbolically, I disagree that he does so to avenge his death. In what follows, I argue that it is her connection to Rome that triggers the violence.If we understand how Achilles views her, we may understand why he kills her. He describes her as "from the same line as Hector and his ancestors and is the last of the blood of the children of Priam and Dardanus" (ὅθενπερ ὁ Ἕκτωρ καὶ οἱ πρὸ αὐτοῦ ἄνω, λοιπὴ δ' ἐστὶ τοῦ Πριαµιδῶν τε καὶ Δαρδανιδῶν αἵµατος, 56.7). He is thinking about her in genealogical terms. Her genealogy once led him to leave her (and her family) alone but now leads him to kill her (to exterminate her family). Some change in regard to her family, but outside the woman herself, prompts Achilles to view her ancestry, previously innocuous, as a capital crime.Two further clues may help reconstruct why Achilles targeted this sla
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