Marvelling at a Youth's Good Looks

Marvelling at a youth’s good looks The gaze and Classical pederastic culture in ancient Greece

MA thesis in Ancient History By: Nicky Schreuder (s1342460) Supervisor: Dr. K. Beerden Date: 26/07/2019

Cover: Drinking cup (kylix) with youth running, attributed to the Triptolemos Painter (c. 500 BC). Museum of Fine Arts Boston, inv. 13.81.

Contents

Introduction ...... 3 Historiography and inquiry ...... 4 Methodology and sources ...... 7 Chapter 1. Gaze theory ...... 10 1.1 The psychoanalytical approach ...... 10 1.2 The feminist take ...... 12 1.3 Criticisms and reactions...... 14 1.4 Relativity and application to ancient Greece ...... 15 Chapter 2. Catching the eye of Sokrates. Plato, Xenophon and the pederastic gaze ...... 19 2.1 Ancient theories of sight ...... 20 2.2 Plato and the youths of Sokrates’ time ...... 22 2.2.1 Charmides ...... 22 2.2.2. Lysis and Euthydemos ...... 27 2.3 Xenophon and dangerous beauty ...... 29 2.3.1 Symposion ...... 29 2.4 Conclusions ...... 31 Chapter 3. Gazing upon the youths on your cup. Pederastic scenes on Attic pottery ...... 33 3.1 The cloaked youth ...... 34 3.2 The ‘pin-up’ youth ...... 41 3.3 The affected erastḗs...... 49 3.4. Conclusions ...... 52 Chapter 4. The eye is the passage for love’s wound. Hellenistic literature ...... 53 4.1 Xenophon of Ephesos ...... 54 4.2 Achilleus Tatios ...... 58 4.3. Longos ...... 61 4.4 Conclusions ...... 64 Conclusion ...... 66 Bibliography ...... 68 Sources ...... 68 Literature ...... 69

Introduction

Lord Henry looked at him. Yes, he was certainly wonderfully handsome, with his finely-curved scarlet lips, his frank blue eyes, his crisp gold hair. There was something in his face that made one trust him at once. All the candor of youth was there, as well as all youth’s passionate purity. One felt that he had kept himself unspotted from the world. No wonder Basil Hallward worshipped him. He was made to be worshipped.1

The young man described here is Oscar Wilde’s (1854–1900) eponymous protagonist in The picture of Dorian Gray, and this is the moment where the adolescent gets introduced in detail to the reader. What is happening in this passage quoted is clear – a man is observing the beautiful Dorian in an almost voyeuristic way. Henry Wotton and his friend Basil Hallward walk into the latter’s studio and find him sitting at the piano. They get acquainted and the laudative description ensues. Establishing the radiance of Dorian’s beauty functions within the story as a contrast with the young man’s later sins and ugly nature, but it is also a prime example of the ‘gaze’. Wilde’s novel is imbued with homoeroticism, which in turn is associated with aestheticism.2 Dorian is subject to the (literal) gaze of Henry, that of Basil, but likewise the reader is forced to ‘look’ upon the supposed ethereal beauty of the protagonist through these characters’ points of view; in this moment Gray is being objectified as a marvel of beauty. His appearance, moreover, coincides with Western beauty standards of the time that were seen as symbolising the good and divine. So inevitably the work contains Wilde’s own gaze as well, which is culturally determined in relation to his own predilections of the ideal male youth. In Victorian times Greek culture was of highly inspirational value, and the focus on Plato (c. 427–c. 348 BC) shines through in Wilde’s work. The ‘upper-class male homosocial desire’3 is reminiscent of the ancient custom of pederasty, which gets featured in the ancient philosopher’s Symposion, for instance.4 Exceptions and other types of male-male desire aside, pederasty is generally understood as the elite educational relationship between an adult erastḗs (‘lover’) and a youth; the erṓmenos (‘beloved’). A similar relationship (though never explicit) can be recognised in the interactions between Lord Henry and Dorian Gray, the latter of whom is continually objectified by the gaze as he cannot outgrow his desirable adolescence and the allure that accompanies it. Looking and erotics are interlinked.

1 O. Wilde and J. Bristow (ed.), The picture of Dorian Gray. The 1890 and 1891 texts. The complete works of Oscar Wilde, vol. 3 (Oxford 2005) 19. 2 J. Carroll, ‘Aestheticism, homoeroticism, and Christian guilt in The picture of Dorian Gray. A Darwinian critique’ Philosophy and Literature 29 (2005) 1-19, at 3. 3 E. Kosofsky Sedgwick, Between men. English literature and male homosocial desire (New York 1985) 176. 4 I. Hurst, ‘Victorian literature and the reception of Greece and Rome’ Literature Compass 7 (2010) 484-495, at 488. 3

Historiography and inquiry

This thesis is concerned with the theoretical gaze and optic performance in relation to pederasty and therefore it will be an interdisciplinary analysis. The gaze, widely used within sociological studies, has rarely been applied systematically to homoerotic expressions of classical Greece in order to attempt to gain a further understanding of same-sex cultural patterns. Yet the study of the phenomenon of Greek pederasty itself does go a longer way back. Love between men had been recognized earlier by those such as Wilde, but it was in the beginning of the 20th century that it became a serious subject of scholarly interest and inquiry. Trailblazing, J. Beazley published multiple articles on Attic vases which also included those with (homo)erotic paintings and inscriptions, therefrom giving the first systematic analysis of pederasty in the visual arts.5 Notable scholars who advanced upon the study of male homosexuality in ancient Greece were M. Foucault and K.J. Dover, who wrote their highly influential works decades after Beazley did.6 Dover’s Greek homosexuality especially has achieved an iconic status within the study of sexuality in antiquity. Both Foucault and Dover characterised the institution of paiderastia on the basis of a dominant/active and submissive/passive dichotomy. In other words, domination was what defined the relationship between erastḗs, who took on the active and penetrative role, and erṓmenos, who took on the receptive role and was thus ever at risk of denigration. In a patriarchal society like the Athenian democracy, masculinity was valued. Taking on a passive role endangered this manly ideal in theory as passivity equaled emasculation. Hence it was the adult citizen male who actively pursued and loved, and the youth who was beloved; the boy was already socially inferior for he had not reached adulthood (i.e. manhood) nor acquired his citizenship yet. D. Halperin emphasises starkly the prominent role of domination within same-sex relationships. He sees sex in Classical Athenian society not only as

…[a] deeply polarizing experience: it effectively divides, classifies, and distributes its participants into distinct and radically opposed categories. Sex possesses this valence, apparently, because it is conceived to center essentially on, and to define itself around, an asymmetrical gesture, that of the penetration of the body of one person by the body – and, specifically, by the phallus – of another. Sex is not only polarizing, however; it is also hierarchical. For the insertive partner is construed as a sexual agent, whose phallic penetration of another person’s body expresses sexual ‘activity’, whereas the receptive partner is construed as a sexual patient, whose submission to phallic penetration expresses sexual ‘passivity’. Sexual ‘activity’, moreover, is

5 J. Beazley, ‘Some inscriptions on vases III’ American Journal of Archaeology 39 (1935) 475-488. 6 K.J. Dover, Greek homosexuality (London 1978); M. Foucault, Histoire de la sexualité (Paris 1976-1984).

thematized as domination: the relationship between the ‘active’ and the ‘passive’ sexual partner is thought of as that obtaining between social superior and social inferior.7

This sexual-role dichotomisation and the act of penetration has permeated scholarship ever since.8 However, more recently a countermovement has emerged and pederasty as a homosexual practice is consequently being nuanced in favour of highlighting its homosocial facets.9 W.A. Percy stresses that the continuous focus on (sexual and thus social) domination has hampered further meaningful research into the topic, and that there are still many facets left unexplored because of this ‘Dover dogma’.10 It is also becoming clear that the unambiguous dichotomy aforementioned might not have been the absolute standard, as T.K. Hubbard and C. Hupperts have sought to prove. Thus Hubbard sees it as actually masculinising instead of potentially effeminising for the elite boys to be a man’s erṓmenos during their younger years: the older man took on the role of a tutor and would instruct the boy about appropriate gender roles and their future role in society.11 Additionally, he undermines the dominant/passive scheme by highlighting literary examples of equal intragenerational partnerships or those where ‘switching’ was involved.12 In a similar vein Hupperts has identified age-peer couples on black- figure vases, showing that Greek homosexuality does not necessarily equal pederasty.13 Yet even when taking into account that paiderastia was an elite institution with political and social functions, that does not negate the simultaneous existence of any erotic or amorous feelings. Increasing attention is being paid to the emotional bond between erastḗs and erṓmenos, and the supposed frigid and unwilling behavior of the youthful lover is being carefully revised on the basis of sources like archaic poetry wherein their active participation and passions are articulated.14 J.N. Davidson has effectively but thinly argued for the existence of the intense emotion of passionate love (erȏs) that was initially and primarily felt by the pursuing erastḗs, which in turn could develop into philia – mutual love: ‘Erȏs is an ambition,

7 D.M. Halperin, One hundred years of homosexuality. And other essays on Greek love (New York and London 1990) 30. 8 W.A. Percy, ‘Reconsiderations about Greek homosexuality’ Journal of Homosexuality 49 (2005) 13-61, at 13- 14. 9 See e.g. T.K. Hubbard, ‘The irreducibility of myth. Plato’s Phaedrus, Apollo, Admetus, and the problem of pederastic hierarchy’ Phoenix 67 (2013) 81-106; Percy, ‘Reconsiderations about Greek homosexuality’. 10 Percy, ‘Reconsiderations about Greek homosexuality’ 13-17. 11 Hubbard, ‘Athenian pederasty and the construction of masculinity’ in J.H. Arnold and S. Brady (eds), What is masculinity? Historical dynamics from antiquity to the contemporary world (New York 2011) 189-225. 12 Hubbard, ‘The varieties of Greek love’ The Gay & Lesbian Review Worldwide 11 (2004) 11-13, at 12-13. 13 C. Hupperts, Eros dikaois. De praktijk en de verbeelding van homoseksualiteit bij de Grieken (Diss. Universiteit Amsterdam 2000). 14 Hubbard, ‘The varieties of Greek love’ 12-13.

5 philia is a relationship.’15 In fact, erȏs was principally used to denote the ardent love between men. Thus, looking at the gaze can prove to be a worthwhile tool for the study of pederasty as it may provide deeper insights of culturally defined predilections as well as emotions that were associated with this practice. This, in turn, is important considering that the ‘…interplay between personal emotions and political and social factors is an essential component to the understanding of erotic and sexual relationships in the Greco-Roman world.’16 A little over a decade ago, S. Goldhill already noted ‘[t]he erotics of the gaze’ to be a topic of broad and then current interest.17 Desirous viewing of the body and beauty have indeed been explored in multiple ways within classical studies, but research to the amorous (male) gaze is mostly conducted in relation to heterosexual expressions in either literature or art.18 Well- known, almost archetypical, examples are the Knidian Aphrodite of Praxiteles (fl. 4th century BC), or the gradually more scantily draped korai of earlier times that teased the male gaze.19 That does not mean the existence of a homosexual viewing has not been acknowledged, as indeed it commonly has. It has been pointed out that artistic objects were primarily centered on male reception and that it was initially the male body which provided an eroticised display and as such became objectified.20 The archaic kouros was such a display – statues of idealised youths who were potential erṓmenoi.21 Decorated vases and the so-called ‘courting scenes’ between man and boy depicted on them also allowed for desirous homosexual regards, yet these are rarely held under close scrutiny with the theoretic gaze in mind. Authors often remark that a male gaze was present, as A. Richlin did when claiming that instead of the woman the boy was object of the gaze, and give scant examples but do not delve deeper in the antique meaning and manifestations of it.22 However, doing so may reveal interesting paradigms of pederastic

15 J.N. Davidson, The Greeks and Greek love. A radical reappraisal of homosexuality in ancient Greece (London 2007) 23-33: Philia is not a clear-cut term, however. Philia is often translated as ‘friendship’ and it could be applied to virtually all close relationships, including those of lovers. This is the more rational side of love, though Davidson shows it can denote matters such as ‘making love with a boy’ and being overcome by desire as well. 16 L.R. LiDonnici, ‘Burning for it. Erotic spells for fever and compulsion in the ancient Mediterranean world’ Greek, Roman and Byzantine Studies 39 (1998) 63-98, at 63. 17 S. Goldhill, ‘The erotic experience of looking. Cultural conflict and the gaze in empire culture’ in M.C. Nussbaum and J. Shivola (eds), The sleep of reason. Erotic experience and sexual ethics in ancient Greece and Rome (Chicago 2002) 154-194, at 154. 18 As it is in Goldhill’s aforementioned chapter as well. 19 M.D. Stansbury-O’Donnell, ‘Desirability and the body’ in T.K. Hubbard (ed.), A companion to Greek and Roman sexualities (Malden, MA and Oxford 2013) 31-53, at 40-45; R.J. Barrow, Gender, identity and the body in Greek and Roman sculpture (Cambridge 2018) 40-41. 20 Barrow, Gender, identity and the body in Greek and Roman sculpture, 9. 21 T.J. McNiven, ‘Sex, gender and sexuality’ in T.J. Smith and D. Plantzos (eds), A companion to Greek art vol. 2 (Malden, MA and Oxford 2012) 510-524, at 520. 22 ‘…[W]e cannot read our own experiential categories onto a group of cultures that had sexually objectified young males for a millennium. In John Berger’s famous dictum about the male gaze, “Men look at women. Women watch themselves being looked at. This determines not only most relations between men and women but also the relation of women to themselves”... For “women” read “boys.”’: A. Richlin, ‘Reading boy-love and child-love in the

6 emotions and thought.. McNiven has in fact touched upon L. Mulvey’s influential theory of the gaze in relation to certain heterosexual erotica on vases, where a man could look at paintings of youths and their intimate relations with hetairai, but this is only one limited aspect of a possible pederastic gaze.23 One study that most clearly utilises the gaze as tool for researching pederastic culture is A. Fountoulakis’ research wherein perceptions and representations of erȏs in the epigrammatical Mousa Paidika are explored using said theory.24 He effectively shows that in the poems an important impetus for the establishment of an emotional connection between desiring man and desired boy is oftentimes the act of looking upon the latter’s body.25 Gazes of both the author and reader are directed towards the narrated bodies and their beautiful qualities, such as their plumpness or captivating eyes which instill in the poetic self a fire of longing.26 The Melic (lyric) poetry of the archaic age and the homoerotic eye within them has in part been explored previously by scholars such as C. Calame and Hubbard27 as well and are therefore not featured extensively. Instead this thesis is a sense complementary to these articles and shall thence investigate other sources besides poetry on the basis of the question of how the gaze and looking played a role within Attic pederastic culture as established in Classical Greece (5th and 4th centuries BC). Ergo, it focuses on how the gaze influenced (literary) depictions and its actors to give a more comprehensive view of the pederastic gaze.

Methodology and sources

The word ‘(homo)sexuality’ has been used several times already, though this is not altogether an unproblematic term. Much ink has been spilled on the discussion of how homosexuality should be defined and how it should (or should not) be studied in relation to ancient cultures, but for the purpose of this thesis only a brief overview and explanation of the usage of this term

Greco-Roman world’ in M. Masterson, N. Sorkin Rabinowitz and J. Robson (eds), Sex in antiquity. Exploring gender and sexuality in the ancient world (London and New York 2015) 352-373, at 360; Stansbury-O’Donnell, ‘Desirability and the body’ 47-48; McNiven, ‘Sex, gender and sexuality’ 519-522. 23 McNiven, ‘Watching my boyfriend with his girlfriend. The eromenos and the hetaera in Athenian vase painting’ American Journal of Arcaheology 105 (2001) 255-256. 24 A. Fountoulakis, ‘Male bodies, male gazes. Exploring erȏs in the twelfth book of the Greek Anthology’ in E. Sanders et al. (eds), Erȏs in ancient Greece (Oxford 2013) 293-311. 25 Fountoulakis, ‘Male bodies, male gazes’ 295-298. 26 Ibid., 297. 27 C. Calame, ‘The amorous gaze. A poetic and pragmatic koine for erotic Melos?’ in V. Cazzato and A. Ladrinois (eds), The look of lyric. Greek song and the visual. Studies in archaic and Classical Greek song, vol. 1, Mnemosyne. Supplements, vol. 391 (Boston and Leiden 2016) 288-289; Hubbard, ‘Pindar, Theoxenus, and the homoerotic eye’ Arethusa 35 (2002) 255-296.

7 suffice.28 When studying emotions and senses one deals with utterances or (artistic) expressions that at first glance seem to capture personal or individual passions as regards sexuality. Yet ever since Foucault it has been generally recognised that sexuality is a modern social construct which differs from perceptions and manifestations of ‘sexuality’ in premodern periods. This rests on the notion that the ancient Greeks or any premodern people did not think in terms of personal sexual identities, which supposedly only happened during the transition of modernity in western Europe.29 Sexual behaviour is thus shaped by cultural and social patterns.30 This is valid, and allows the historian to adequately study said utterances as part of a cultural frame. It likewise provides the opportunity to apply the theory of the gaze upon selected sources. However, claiming that sexuality is solely shaped by corresponding societies and their ideologies is both unethical and unlikely. Sexuality is both a mixture of nomos and fusis in the sense that individual predilections must have had a part in framing one’s sexual views and activities next to the undebatable influence of customs and mores. The same applies to emotions and attitudes pertaining to homoeroticism (and pederasty). With all this in mind, ‘homosexuality’ can be used as a term denoting the amatory facets of the pederastic custom while recognising that it is not limited to this. But most importantly, as mentioned previously, the current theory of the gaze will be applied to this certain aspect of ancient Greek cultural history. To the purpose of this the first chapter is dedicated to outlining the relevant theories regarding the gaze (namely psychoanalytical scopophilia, Lacan’s ‘gaze’ and Mulvey’s ‘male gaze’). Plato and a selection of his works take center stage in the second chapter. It concerns more specifically dialogues as his Symposion, Charmides, Lysis and Phaidros which are fundamental to the study of ancient Greek homosexuality. This is followed by a section on seductive Greek pederastic vases of the red-figure tradition.31 It is inevitable that some of the paintings discussed fall just outside the aforementioned timeframe of the fifth to fourth centuries, since the artistic tradition of depicting male-male desire on vases already reached its zenith prior to the dawn of the Classical era, yet it is part of a pederastic tradition that is still recognisable in the later vases as well as literary

28 For a more comprehensive outline, see e.g. M. Skinner, Sexuality in Greek and Roman culture (Malden, MA 2005) 7-10 and Hupperts, Eros Dikaios, 5-19. 29 Halperin, One hundred years of homosexuality, 25, 35. Halperin therefore, along with others, argues that ‘sexuality’ in fact was nonexistent in antiquity. 30 Hupperts, Eros dikaois, 5, 18. 31 Greek vases have been extensively researched within pederastic studies, see e.g. Dover, Greek homosexuality for some examples; H.A. Shapiro, ‘Courtship scenes in Attic vase painting’ American Journal of Archaeology 85 (1981) 133-143; G. Koch-Harnak, Knabenliebe und Tiergeschenke. Ihre Bedeutung im päderastischen Erziehungssystem Athens (Berlin 1983); M.F. Kilmer, Greek erotica on Attic red-figure vases (London 1993); A. Lear and E. Cantarella, Images of ancient Greek pederasty. Boys were their gods (New York 2008).

8 sources. Lastly, the Greek novel and other Hellenistic-era passages from literature shall be addressed in the fourth chapter. Even though these writings clearly originate from a later date than the Classical period (they were composed roughly between the first and fourth century AD), it is highly likely that the authors of these works harked back to Athenian Classical culture when including instances of male same-sex love between characters. It therefore does not necessarily reflect any contemporary social realities and this makes the literature useful for the study of Classical pederasty.32 The aim of this research is not necessarily to approach the subject diachronically, but to present a comparative analysis between the selected sources that shall function as case studies. As to the geographical restriction (i.e. Attika), it is because of the clear predominance of Attic literature and art available to scholars that the focus will be limited to Athens and its intellectual tradition and influence. (Military) forms of homosexuality in Peloponnesian Sparta or Beoetian Thebes, for example, are thus excluded.

32 K. Haynes, Fashioning the feminine in the Greek Novel (London and New York 2005) 152; Jones has argued that matters like masculinity in the novels, for instance, do often reflect imperial period paradigms: M. Jones, Playing the man. Performing masculinities in the ancient Greek novel (Oxford 2012). 9

Chapter 1 Gaze theory

Gaze theory has garnered a lot of (popular) interest in recent times. Following the #metoo movement, but also before, Hollywood movies are being scrutinised with the concept of the ‘male gaze’ in mind: how does this result in the framing of women on the white screen as an objectified ‘other’? Film theorists have set out that this male gaze includes direct or indirect voyeuristic processes. Much the same has been acknowledged in visual arts of the West. The man looks and the woman is to be looked at; ‘[w]omen watch themselves being looked at…Thus she turns herself into an object–and most particularly an object of vision: a sight.’33 The concept of the heterosexual gaze has thus become an important tool within gender studies and feminist theory and scholarship to look at the position of women across several media. Yet desirous looking may not merely be directed at the woman, nor is the gaze as tool for research an invention of film theorists such as L. Mulvey. The derivation of aesthetic pleasure and appreciation of looking at the human body from a male point of view was already a topic of Sigmund Freud’s studies, and ever since his theorising the idea of the gaze has been adapted and advanced upon. This chapter shall concern itself with these advancements and will set out what the ‘gaze’ actually is and how it functions, as well as the criticisms it has received. It closes with an argument for its application to the ancient sources.

1.1 The psychoanalytical approach

When Freud published his Drei Abhandlungen zur Sexualtheorie in 1905, he introduced the term Schaulust/scopophilia to denote the (erotic) pleasure of seeing and being seen, encompassing respectively voyeuristic and exhibitionist urges.34 This Schaulust was observed to develop during the infantile years when children begin to get inquisitive and wants to know about the hidden and forbidden, preluding any voyeuristic desires during adulthood.35 This could consequently result in a disorder where a man perversely and obsessively desires to look upon the woman’s body and derives pleasure from this.36 To look is furthermore associated with the active/masculine, and to be looked at with the passive/feminine.37 Freud’s manner of

33 J. Berger, Ways of seeing (Harmondsworth 1972) 47. 34 S. Freud, Drei Abhandlungen zur Sexualtheorie (5th ed., Leipzig 1922) 23; J. Jagodzinski, ‘Scopophilia’ in R.L. Jackson and M. Hogg (eds), Encyclopedia of identity (California 2010) 660-662, at 660. 35 Freud, Drei Abhandlungen zur Sexualtheorie, 59; Jagodzinski, ‘Scopophilia’ 660. 36 Freud, Drei Abhandlungen zur Sexualtheorie, 23. 37 Jagodzinski, ‘Scopophilia’ 660. 10 psychoanalysis has received much criticism for its phallocentrism, but the notion of Schaulust proved instrumental in the formulation of the theory of the gaze by J. Lacan decades later, who in turn inspired (feminist) movie theorists. Indeed, scopophilia is denoted by some as one of several facets that creates the patriarchal sexual order.38 Lacan split his gaze, le regard, in two dimensions; one that connotates directly looking at something or someone, the eye, and being watched by the Other with a pre-existing gaze (‘I see only from one point – but in my existence I am looked at from all sides.’).39 This is reminiscent of the self-evident distinction between seeing and being seen as Freud had postulated, but Lacanian psychoanalytic theory puts forward the idea that a society possesses a culturally shaped gaze.40 To illustrate this he nevertheless reveals a rather gendered interpretation as well, for this all-seeing aspect reminds him of the woman who enjoys the fact that she is being looked at, but only if the one who observes does not reveal that they know that she finds satisfaction from it.41 Again, the woman is seen as subject of the gaze, but this is not the main quality of the le regard because in the end everyone is subjected to the gaze. Central to his thesis is the identity and identification of the self and the ensuing anxiety that accompanies it. This starts during the mirror phase when the individual is still a child and looks upon its own reflection, realising that it is distinct and different from the other while constructing an ideal image of itself. This self-image is in essence narcissism and misrecognition (méconnaissance) because the child initially identifies itself with the societal, and thus ideal/perfect, Other. Down the line an awareness of a gap between how others see him and the conscious self-image occurs.42 Because the subject becomes aware of the outside gaze, that is, the collective sight of all other people in society, he tries to adapt to it, yet will never know if he succeeds in his aim to adapt successfully and how he is perceived.43 Nevertheless, this stage of narcissism can be revived. Gazing upon exemplary, ideal objects or images could lead to narcissistic identification.44 This likewise results in the desire for the Other and to adapt to an ‘object’ that symbolises what one lacks in order to conform to the socio-cultural gaze by

38 C.T. Manlove, ‘Visual ‘drive’ and cinematic narrative. Reading gaze theory in Lacan, Hitchcock, and Mulvey’ Cinema Journal 46 (2007) 83-108, at 86. 39 J.A. Miller (ed.) and J. Lacan, The four fundamental concepts of psycho-analysis, trans. A. Sherican (London and New York 2018) 72-73. 40 Jagodzinski, ‘Gaze’ in R.L. Jackson and M. Hogg (eds), Encyclopedia of identity (California 2010) 302-305, at 303. 41 Miller (ed.) and Lacan, The four fundamental concepts of psycho-analysis, 75. 42 Stansbury-O’Donnell, Vase painting, gender, and social identity in archaic Athens (Cambridge 2006) 59. 43 Miller (ed.) and Lacan, The four fundamental concepts of psycho-analysis, 83; Stansbury-O’Donnell, Vase painting, gender, and social identity in archaic Athens, 57 44 Miller (ed.) and Lacan, The four fundamental concepts of psycho-analysis, 68-74.

11 adopting its qualities.45 Consequently, a person can form a social identity and act upon it through identifying with the object.46 Through the act of looking at the societal gaze, an identity is formed which in turn influences behaviour.

1.2 The feminist take

When discussing an erotic gaze, as is the intention of this present study, it is Mulvey’s pivotal47 theory of the masculine gaze in cinema that provides an invaluable framework for pleasured looking. Mulvey, film theorist, was influenced both by Freud and Lacan when she set out her ideas of the position of the man and woman in traditional Hollywood cinema. More specifically she researched how women are framed in the male (world)view. She found that the man is the domineering bearer of the look, and the woman is a spectacle, defined by her ‘to-be-looked-at- ness’.48 This reflects the structure of unequal power relations between man and woman.

Woman displayed as sexual object is the leit-motif of erotic spectacle: from pin-ups to strip-tease, from Ziegfeld to Busby Berkeley, she holds the look, plays to and signifies male desire. Mainstream film neatly combined spectacle and narrative…The presence of woman is an indispensable element of spectacle in normal narrative film, yet her visual presence tends to work against the development of a story line, to freeze the flow of action in moments of erotic contemplation.49 The woman is depicted in a voyeuristic way to satisfy the man’s desire and fantasy as the woman is framed according to the male gaze, therefore objectified. It is all about the body, and cinematography focuses on this by putting focus on parts that are (erotically) appealing like the breasts, backsides and legs but also close-ups of her face. There are no expressions of her agency or feelings which in fact get denied through this objectification. This notion is not exclusive to cinema. It is widely recognised that in (early) modern European painting a man’s gaze was likewise directed towards the voluptuous female bodies displayed for their pleasure.50 Literature, too, can describe desired objects in a picturesque manner and provide a platform for the gaze. This makes an erotic impact and momentarily keeps the plot from advancing.51 The gaze may thus affect the narrative pace while the interplay between narrative and

45 Ibid., 83-85; Jagodzinski, ‘Gaze’ 303; Stansbury-O’Donnell, Vase painting, gender, and social identity in archaic Athens, 57. 46 Stansbury-O’Donnell, Vase painting, gender, and social identity in archaic Athens, 58. 47 Thanks to Mulvey the notion of the ‘male gaze’ became a hot topic not just within film theory but also art history, literature studies and gender studies in general. 48 L. Mulvey, ‘Visual pleasure and narrative cinema’ Screen 16 (1975) 6-18, at 11-12. 49 Mulvey, ‘Visual pleasure and narrative cinema’ 11. 50 Berger, Ways of seeing, 45-64: The primary example is that of the early-modern nude. 51 Ibid., 11-12.

12 depiction/description affect the gaze.52 In this way, the eyes of men fix objects which P.B. Salzmann Mitchell aptly calls a ‘fixing gaze’.53 The male protagonist gazes at the woman and the camera along with him, which makes the viewer adopt such a male point of view as well. Hence the phenomenon is always threefold when studying source material, whether it be art or literature: creators gaze; personas gaze; audiences gaze, and this is all socially informed. One of the results of this is that the woman expects to be looked at and judged accordingly, making her act upon it by adapting to the reigning ideals.54 Through this structure of viewing man begets power.55 This aforementioned aspect of looking clearly harks back on Freud’s notion of voyeuristic scopophilia although she explicitly adds that this gaze is both curious and controlling.56 Lacan’s influence can be found when she discusses narcissism, which is also presumed to be part of the process and denotes the identification of (male) viewers with leading characters, or ‘ego ideals’ whom they are fascinated with and recognise themselves in.57 The protagonist is more often than not male and heterosexual, but he is not an object of the erotic gaze. He is the perfect, complete and powerful ideal of the ego who controls the action, reflecting ideas of (active) masculinity.58 These cinematic figures are essentially the objects Lacan describes to recreate the mirror phase and the image thence created, which is equal to the societal ideal. The female character, on the other hand, stagnates or freezes the action within the story in order to highlight the eroticizing and captivating impression of the woman before she ultimately gets woven into the narrative.59

52 P.B. Salzmann-Mitchell, A web of fantasies. Gaze, image and gender in Ovid’s Metamorphoses (Columbus 2005) 68. 53 Salzmann-Mitchell, A web of fantasies, 68. 54 This is called the ‘objectification theory’: B. Moradi, ‘Objectification theory. Areas of promise and refinement’ Counseling Psychologist 39 (2011) 153-163, at 154. 55 N.S. Rabinowitz, ‘Women as subject and object of the gaze in tragedy’ Helios 40 (2013) 195-221, at 195. 56 Mulvey, ‘Visual pleasure and narrative cinema’ 8. 57 Ibid., 10. 58 Ibid., 12. 59 K.G. Drummond, ‘The queering of Swan Lake’ Journal of Homosexuality 45 (2008) 235-255, at 246-248.

1.3 Criticisms and reactions

Clearly, Mulvey’s gaze reflects the patriarchal and heterosexual hegemony of modern society as only the woman can be looked upon through a desirous lens. But it has been recognised that the heteronormative scheme as explicated by Mulvey is not the sole existing one even if it is presently overrepresented. The homosexual or queer gaze has been coined specifically to denote the (culturally constructed) way of looking when it pertains to members of the same gender, and has primarily been applied within literary and film studies.60 With a queer gaze, the gender dichotomy is no longer as clear-cut or static. In essence the binary and heteronormative opposition and division between male and female gets problematised because it is not only the woman who is object of desire. Concepts like gender performance and gender performativity as propagated by J. Butler in her seminal work Gender trouble. Feminism and the subversion of identity can clarify more aptly how gendered behaviour and expressions emerge.61 In it, she argues that gender is constructed through acts, which are predetermined by (sub)cultural markers or the mores of a society.62 Power relations have an impact on matters as body image and makes one take on a (gendered) role. The idea of Man and Woman in gaze theory actually represent positions of power and are not necessarily related to biological sex. The queering of the concept of the gaze is only one of the reactions to Mulvey, however, as differing manifestations of gazes are also explored.63 T. Modleski and C. Glenn have shown that Mulvey’s concept is not always as straightforward as she proclaims it to be by revisiting the question of who derives power through the act of looking.64 Through reexamining protagonists in Hitchcock films, as Mulvey did, Glenn reveals interesting consequences for the way the gaze can be complicated when taking into account relations of power between observer and observed. At first glance, the leading roles in movies like Rear Window (1954) and Vertigo (1958) engage in controlling

60 C. Pullen, Straight girls and queer guys. The hetero media gaze in film and television (Edinburgh 2016) 41-64. 61 J. Butler, Gender trouble. Feminism and the subversion of identity (New York 1990). 62 Butler, Gender trouble, 9-10, 18-21. 63 Scholarship has attempted to expand on the essentialist view of Mulvey (i.e. active/male and passive/female) by indeed looking beyond the heterosexual scheme, but also by introducing the notion of the female gaze which made it possible to study the gaze more aptly from different perspectives. It is no longer assumed the pleasures of the female spectator are not catered to or that they enjoy media the same way as men, nor that viewings are confined to one’s own gender. Similarly some scholars are of the opinion that Mulvey casts women too easily into the role of the object. Nor does it take into account the experience and representations of people of colour. This female gaze shall not be addressed in this present study for it clearly focuses on male-male desire, though this does not necessarily negate that women had their own gaze in relation to pederastic culture. However, this is near impossible to trace and reconstruct. 64 T. Modleski, ‘Remastering the master. Hitchcock after feminism’ New Literary History 47 (2016) 135-158, at 136-137. This does not mean Mulvey was unaware of any possible nuances, but she simply did not discuss these.

14 voyeuristic practices regarding the female romantic interests. In both films, the man forms an erotic attachment through the gaze while in Vertigo he objectifies the graceful and captivating female character through ‘…fetishizing her image as the feminine ideal’.65 Yet, when examining how the protagonist is framed and how he acts upon his gaze, it appears that he himself becomes passive and powerless in the process. Many shots are dedicated to showing close ups of the protagonist and how he is watching. The audience, in effect, sees him gaze which makes him into an object as the story unfolds. This becomes even clearer as it is effectively the romantic interest, embodying the perfect woman, who is in control through her successful modes of seduction, entrapping the man in her schemes.66 Simpler put, the active and passive roles get blurred as the man ‘emasculates’ himself by being the object of the audience’s gaze and being under the proverbial spell of the woman, who in turn adopts a more commanding position through her to-be-looked-at-ness. 67 The man thus remains the bearer of the desiring look although this does not equal masculine dominance, but indeed the ironic loss of power and control.68 In the same vein, viewing an image can have the power to paralyze the looker, reversing the fixing gaze of Mulvey.69 This is a nuance with potentially great impact as this gives the presumed object of desire more agency and power than Mulvey’s theorem allows for.

1.4 Relativity and application to ancient Greece

Using modern theories in relation to the ancient world cannot heedlessly be done. The gaze, however, can prove to be a valuable analytical tool to approach antique sources with despite different patterns of gendered behaviour and ideas on the workings of vision.70 Mulvey’s theory has quite enthusiastically been received within academia and applied onto a variety of sources, both visual and literary, from different eras. Indeed, the existence of the gaze is not limited to the modern world, as everyone in every age observed others with their own socio-cultural framework. In particular, a male gaze also existed in the ancient Greek world with its societies patterned along male power and dominance.

65 C. Glenn, ‘Complicating the theory of the male gaze. Hitchcock’s leading men’ New Review of Film and Television Studies 15 (2017) 496-510, at 498. 66 Glenn, ‘Complicating the theory of the male gaze’ 499-500. 67 Ibid., 500-501. 68 Ibid., 502. 69 Salzmann-Mitchell, A web of fantasies, 68. 70 Ancient theories of vision shall be discussed in chapter 2 and used to complement the modern gaze theory with.

Pederasty and the desiring of young men was an integral part of Athenian elite society which resulted in a distinct imagery, visually and literary, associated with it. Subsequently, this means that one cannot purely speak of a male gaze as previously discussed when looking at homoeroticism in the Greek sources because of the heteronormativity inherent to the theory. Men are generally still the spectators, but they look at and revel in the sight of the adolescent male body instead of that of the woman.71 Other than the gaze being male, it is essentially a queer/homosexual one as the woman gets replaced with the youth. However, the queer gaze proper does not convey the assumed (unequal) power relation between (watching) erastḗs and (watched) erṓmenos, so it is more apt to describe it as a male gaze in a homosexual male context, or indeed a male pederastic gaze. As Fountoulakis also acknowledges, in the case of Greek paiderastia it is desirable to draw a distinction with Mulvey’s gaze which is why he brings forward the notion of the male pederastic gaze.72 He thus distinguishes it as a subcategory of the masculine gaze to be used when researching pederastic culture while it simultaneously connotates the queerness of it. Within this study, this means that the (potential) erȏmenos will be looked at as object of the male pederastic gaze and how he is seen and positioned in the experiential perspective of an erastȇs. Mulvey gauged that the woman was defined by her to-be-looked-at-ness, which ties in with Freudian scopophilia and fetishistic voyeurism. In the case of the erȏmenos this means that the role of beauty and criterions of attractiveness can be ascertained through the gaze and the importance that is ascribed to it vis-à-vis vision. How are physical features and behaviour of the youth described, like his hair or grooming and how does the sight of this affect the lover or observer? Furthermore, do such markers define the described youth, making him into a passive and eroticised object of spectacle fixed by the man’s eyes? The performative and controlling power of the male pederastic gaze is to be surveyed in relation to its assumed active and possessive (if not penetrative) capacity that leads to erotic reflection. A subsequent supplementary feature possible to discern is then whether the youngster is shown to acculturate to this gaze, like Berger explains when women get confronted with the omnipresent male gaze. It is assumed the object of the gaze internalises it and so plays along with the objectification of himself which, in turn, he might start to enjoy.

71 That is, in the outside social sphere where men were more likely to meet other men and youths than women. The visibility and presence of women outside of the home is actually a question that inspires ongoing debate, but clearly men came into more frequent contact with the female nude in the form of art. A woman’s ideal modesty (aidos) implied that ideologically she was in fact not to be looked at hence why she was draped in robes. 72 Fountoulakis, ‘Male bodies, male gazes’ 294. 16

But the bifurcation of the phallocentric active/passive dichotomy that has successfully permeated modern scholarship on Greek homoeroticism might well be nuanced through the gaze as well. As Glenn has pointed out, the male gaze may render the onlooker powerless instigated by the sight of the partner. Remaining the principal bearer of the desiring look, he does not necessarily gain experiential dominance as the object of desire is in effective control through her, or indeed his, (bodily) charm. The power dynamic of spectatorship gets blurred via an emotional reversal of power relations that is inspired and given shape by the gaze.73 Recognising such instances within the ancient sources might aid in turning further away from the Dover dogma with its focus on sexual domination in favour of appreciating the (emotional) pederastic experiences. Whenever possible, Lacan’s narcissistic gaze is also retraced. In general, Greece had no lack of ideal images such as statues or literary (heroic) figures and these could lead to narcissistic identification, or indeed a form of self-consciousness: ‘The desired object may become a projection or mirror image of the subject’s own idealized self.’74 With the source material used in this thesis, this applies principally to the paintings on pottery where there is a clear audience, most often the male symposiast, and the depiction with characters they gazed at. Through this Lacanian mode of identity-forming subsequently the (desiring) gaze of the symposiast, as well as that of the figures depicted on the earthenware, can be researched. In order to give a clear overview of the theoretical framework, a table is added with the criteria to analyse the sources with, which also summarises gaze theory as set out above:

Male pederastic gaze Act of looking o Scopophilia; pleasure in eroticised looking o The adult man looks; the youth is to be looked at Representation o Youth as sexual fantasy o Focus on face; (sexualised) body parts; eyes; cloaked, uncloaked o The youth as an image → Objectification

73 Interestingly, this seems to happen in Straton of Sardis’ (c. 3rd century AD?) laudatory Mousa Paidike whose work is commonly treated as an unrepresentative excess of the poet. Apparently an avid admirer and participant of pederasty himself, he expresses in his poetry that it is often the glances of boys that turn the older man into a prey of the desire he feels for the beautiful youths, rendering him powerless: P.G. Maxwell-Stuart, ‘Strato and the Musa Puerillis’ Hermes 100 (1972) 215-240, at 215; Fountoulakis, ‘Male bodies, male gazes’ 307. 74 And in addition, ‘[t]he lover comes into being only through confrontation with his own desire in the gaze of the Other.’: Hubbard, ‘Pindar, Theoxenus, and the homoerotic eye’ 286-287.

Reflection – consequence for erastḗs o Empowerment/man as dominant and controlling o Fixing gaze (erotic contemplation) o Loss of power o Identification with/as ‘ideal’ image Reflection – consequence for erṓmenos o Internalisation of pederastic gaze o Empowerment through to-be-looked-at-ness o (Re)affirmed passivity

Chapter 2 Catching the eye of Sokrates. Plato, Xenophon and the pederastic gaze

Plato’s importance for the study of male homosexuality cannot be understated, and his works are often used when studying pederasty. The philosopher reveals his outright fascination for the custom by making homosexual erȏs subject of debate in several of his dialogues. That the (pederastic) gaze within Plato’s writings or surrounding the figures featured in them has not yet been carefully researched seems, therefore, odd. The cause of this is the philosophical nature of his works. It does not seem obvious that there is a gaze to research surrounding the practice of pederasty. Dover maintained that Socratic philosophy was not a source to be relied upon when investigating pederasty as ‘…eros for wisdom is more powerful, and more important to Socrates than eros for a beautiful youth.’75 All homoerotic interactions or expressions are for that reason assumed to centre on the ascent towards Beauty as aspect of the good.76 It is true that Sokrates’ (c. 470–399 BC) attitudes towards ‘base’ male-male desire as explicated by his followers differ quite drastically, ranging from disapproval of such intimacy to its celebration. Yet what is constant is the reoccurrence of expressed pederastic attraction and the situating of scenes at settings associated with courtship that was a vital component of the institution.77 Sokrates, in both Platonic and Xenophontean accounts, is indeed susceptible to the beauty of youths around him (even if, in Plato’s Symposion, Diotima urges him during his younger years to rise above interpersonal philia to attain direct contact with the true Form of Beauty itself).78 Additionally, both writers were familiar with the practice that was a significant part of their (aristocratic) culture and it is only likely that this is reflected in their writings when the topic of homoeroticism and desire is brought up. Even if Sokrates’ aspired endgame was to lure the boys in philosophical discussions.79 How these young men are described and what their effect on the man is subsequent to gazing at them is examined, without delving too deeply into any philosophical messages in the chosen sources. Plato is in this a

75 Dover, Greek homosexuality, 157. 76 Ibid., 161. 77 A. Lear, ‘Ancient pederasty. An introduction’ in T.K. Hubbard (ed.), A companion to Greek and Roman sexualities (Chichester 2013) 106-131, at 117. 78 Pl. Symp. 211c-212a; Hupperts, Eros dikaios, deel 2. Plato en Sokrates. De ware eros. Een analyse van het symposium van Plato (Diss. Universiteit van Amsterdam 2000) 312; See, however, P. Genest, Socratic eros and philia (Diss. John Hopkins University 1992) for a differing interpretation where (pederastic) love remains part of the Socratic acquisition of virtue. Summarised, he argues that ‘[a]n intimate personal relationship is necessary continuously through the ascent to the Beautiful’ (ii) as set out in the Symposion and other works. 79 Lear, ‘Ancient pederasty’ 117.

19 starting point, yet Xenophon of Athens’ (c. 431–354 BC) Symposion is also helpful to paint a more complete picture of the impact of the gaze within these elite circles. Otherwise, theories of vision within Plato’s treatises have been previously noted and studied. For the ancient Greeks, erȏs and the eye were inseparable.80 For a modern reader this does not strike as strange because of the familiarity of visual attraction. However, the experience of gazing at an attractive partner was vastly different in classical antiquity as it was assumed to contain an actual forcible, if not tactile, power.81 In order to understand the strong impact of the gaze as regards the ancient sources it is essential to provide a general overview of the Greek appreciation of seeing and the science of the eyes before the youths and Sokrates in Plato and others are discussed.

2.1 Ancient theories of sight

Significant concepts used to explain the action of seeing were intromission and extramission, which are recurrent in the visual theories of the 5th and 4th century. Demokritos (c. 460–c. 380 BC), figurehead of Atomism, brought forward the notion of vision being of a tactual and physical nature where the object of someone’s sight is being imprinted on the eye in the form of an image (eidolon).82 Thus this replicant image of what the seer observes settles into the eye and subsequently passes through to the mind and soul to make the seer reflect on it.83 Epikouros’ (241–270 BC) summary of Demokritos’ view explains it most clearly:

For particles are continually streaming off from the surface of bodies, though no diminution of the bodies is observed, because other particles take their place. And those given off for a long time retain the position and arrangement which their atoms had when they formed part of the solid bodies… We must also consider that it is by the entrance of something coming from external objects that we see their shapes and think of them.84

The result of this whole process was seeing. These ideas were also applied to erotics, and indeed frequently so. Someone’s beautiful appearance alone is in literature from the Homeric epics onwards often assumed to inspire great passion within the seer, making erȏs a deeply affecting force to the eyes that could even incite physiological effects on the body.85 This force was not

80 See e.g. Pl. Phdr. 251b. 81 B. Leyerle, ‘John Chrysostom on the gaze’ Journal of Early Christian Studies 1 (1993) 159-174, at 160. 82 Stansbury-O’Donnell, Vase painting, gender, and social identity in archaic Athens, 61-62. 83 Ibid., 62; S. Bartsch, The mirror of the self. Sexuality, self-knowledge, and the gaze in the early Roman Empire (Chicago 2017) 58. 84 Diog. Laert. 10.48-49. 85 See e.g. Hom. Od. 18.212 where it is described that desirous looking loosens the knees; Sapph. 31; Plin. HN 36.20; Leyerle, ‘John Chrysostom on the gaze’ 160-161.

20 uncommonly equated with violence, as Xenophon’s Sokrates remarks that a lovely face could wound the observer much like the maddening-poison sting of a scorpion would.86 S. Bartsch emphasises accordingly that such visions constituted an erotic penetration of the body by the eidolon of the desired body that enters through the eyes.87 Vision and emotion were thus closely connected.88 Plato was influenced by this Democritean theory, for in the Phaidros he relates not only that sight is the sharpest of the senses, but also that, when looking at a beloved, the man is warmed ‘…as the effluence of beauty enters him through the eyes…’89 More generally he also recounts in another text that erȏs flows in from without and that it is first and foremost introduced through the eyes.90 Looking upon such beauty in turn functioned as a stepping stone for the philosopher/erastḗs to reach the Form of Beauty.91 Extramission posits the eye as a more active agent when seeing, maintaining that rays flow from the eye in order to create vision.92 The eyes are in this sense light-bearing and the stream that emanates from them is like fire that touches the object one is gazing at. It is not visible because it is alike the light of the day. When this ocular stream touches the object, its perception gets carried back directly into the mind.93 These theories were not entirely mutually exclusive, as Plato referenced to both intro- and extramission, and so does Ploutarchos who in turn was influenced by Platonism. The latter recognises that the image flowing from the beautiful affects the seer and intensely so, but at the same time the glances (or rays) that come from the eyes of desire’s object can melt a lover and even hold the power to emotionally destroy him.94 Next to a certain way of eroticised looking and framing that is part of the pederastic gaze, ancient optics are an additional aspect to keep in mind as it helps explain the reactions men had (or were thought to have) when facing beautiful young men.

86 Xen. Mem. 1.3.13. 87 Bartsch, The mirror of the self, 58. 88 This is made explicit in Gorg. Hel. 17, for example, where it is explained that the sight of Paris’ handsomeness is caught by Helena’s eye, which directly influences her behaviour and brings love to her mind. 89 Pl. Phdr. 150d, 151c. 90 Pl. Cra. 420b. 91 Pl. Phdr. 151a-c; Bartsch, The mirror of the self, 81-82. 92 Stansbury-O’Donnell, Vase painting, gender, and social identity in archaic Athens, 62. 93 Pl. Tim. 45b-d. 94 Plut. Mor. 5.7.681a-c; Plut. Amat. 766e. 21

2.2 Plato and the youths of Sokrates’ time

Plato grew up in Athens’ upper-class environment and became a pupil of the infamous Sokrates during his adolescence.95 As such the man was intimately familiar with the elite custom and norms of pederasty, both because of him being a part of the higher social circles and his acquaintance with Sokrates. As previously stated, love is a theme featured often within the Socratic dialogues and this may very well reflect the latter’s interests, next to the ever present focus on ethics. In fact the philosopher claims more than once that he is an adept at love.96 Plato himself accordingly presents him in several of the dialogues as (having an image of) a man ‘…liable to fall in love with beautiful young men’ despite his supposed sexual abstinence.97 Nevertheless, Foucault, Halperin and others term the expressions of erȏs or homosexuality herein as ‘Platonic erotics’ or ‘philosophical (homo)erotics’ as it does not always conform to the traditional view of pederasty (sexual role reversal and reciprocity,98 for instance, are sometimes implied or set out and there is often a philosophical ulterior motive), but this puts away these sources too easily. Descriptions of attraction and reactions to physical beauty surely reflect contemporary pederastic paradigms, and can therefore be researched with the gaze in order to unveil expected/cultural patterns of action and thought in homoerotic situations.

2.2.1 Charmides

The Charmides is assumed to be one of Plato’s earlier works and centers on a typical Socratic- dialectical discussion the work’s eponymous young man and Kritias99 hold with Sokrates to come to an understanding and definition of the virtue ‘sophrosyne’, which pertains to matters as moderation, common sense or self-knowledge. This discussion ends in aporia, with neither of the interlocutors coming to a satisfying answer or insight as to what this virtue actually entails.100 Erȏs and the ascent toward the Form of Beauty are never seriously debated or explored in this dialogue, which makes Sokrates’ homoerotic actions in the narrative all the more striking.

95 A.S. Mason, Plato (Durham 2010) 9. 96 See Pl. Symp. 177d (‘I would hardly say no, since the only subject I can claim to know about is love.’); Pl. Symp. 198b; Pl. Theag. 128b; Pl. Men. 76c; Pl. Lys. 204b. 97 Pl. Symp. 216d, 219c. 98 See e.g. Pl. Alc. 1 where, towards the end of the dialogue, Alkibiades states he will act as a lover (not beloved) to Sokrates. 99 Charmides and Kritias would later become part of the Thirty, an oligarchic government after the Peloponnesian War. They were also related to Plato, coming from the same aristocratic family. 100 T.M. Tuozzo, Plato’s Charmides. Positive elenchus in a ‘Socratic’ dialogue (Cambridge 2011) 50. 22

The text commences with Sokrates’ return to Athens after a long military service during the Peloponnesian War. Straight away he goes to is a wrestling school in order to ease back into Athenian social life. But after exchanging pleasantries with acquaintances and sharing stories of the war and his life as a soldier at the battlefront he reveals the true purpose of his visit as he is in search of ‘…rising young men [that] had distinguished themselves for wisdom or beauty or both.’101 Clearly the philosopher wants to follow his passions, not only in finding youths to lure into his philosophical circle and to engage in debates with, but also to feast his eyes on their beauty. Already he reveals his (or indeed the pederast’s) scopophilia and that the handsome young are inevitably subjected to leering gazes of adult men judging them for their beauty.102 It is no coincidence either that he went towards the gymnasion’s palaistra for this, the stage for pederastic courting where the (athletic) male nude was exhibited and celebrated. This erotic focus was indicated and made explicit by the sculptures of the god Eros that generally adorned the architecture of these grounds.103 If anything, Sokrates’ presence there reveals the man’s underlying homoerotic interests. He does not have to wait long before the greatest beauty, Charmides, enters the grounds along with an undisclosed number of lovers. It appears not all that uncommon for the famous (and pretty) to have had multiple erastai. Alkibiades, too, could boast to have multiple admirers among whom Sokrates.104 In the Symposion, Alkibiades even forbids the philosopher to look at other good-looking men, demanding that the gaze be fixed on him at all times.105 Ploutarchos mentions in his biography of the politician that he was courted because of his ‘brilliant youthful beauty’ but also that he was subsequently ridiculed for his wanton walking.106 This wantonness frames Alkibiades as a kinaidos, or effeminate man, but it might also imply that he had been aware of the pederastic gaze and internalised it while subsequently objectifying himself in the sense of purposefully attracting sexual attention by manner of his strutting about. The erṓmenos could take pride in having an older lover to (ideally) guide and teach him so it was a good thing

101 Pl. Chrm. 153d-154a. 102 See also Diotima’s claim that ‘…beautiful boys and young men…now drive you and many others to distraction when you see them.’: Pl. Symp. 211d. 103 Percy, Pederasty and pedagogy in archaic Greece, 112. 104 See Pl. Alc. 1; Pl. Symp. 213c-d. 105 Pl. Symp. 213d. 106 Plut. Alc. 192-193: The aggressor, one Archippos, actually insults Alkibiades’ son, but does so by naming all the traits he mimicked from his father, like the wanton gait, but also his clothing and manner of speech (i.e. a lisp).

23 to be wanted.107 In turn this makes the lack of having a suitor potentially humiliating, which could prove an incentive to play to the pederastic gaze.108 The impact of the pederastic gaze is expressly highlighted when Charmides comes into view:

…the young man appeared to me a marvel of stature and beauty; and all the rest, to my thinking, were in love with him, such was their astonishment and confusion when he came in, and a number of other lovers were following in his train. On the part of men like us it was not so surprising; but when I came to observe the boys I noticed that none of them, not even the smallest, had eyes for anything else, but that they all gazed at him as if he were a statue. Then Chaerephon called me and said—How does the youth strike you, Socrates? Has he not a fine face?

Immensely so, I replied.

Yet if he would consent to strip, he said, you would think he had no face, he has such perfect beauty of form.

And these words of Chaerephon were repeated by the rest.109

Charmides is first and foremost characterised by his appearance, which is notably striking in both a figurative and literal sense. The men objectify him explicitly by directing attention to his perfect body or otherwise pointing towards other physical features as his face. In their eyes, he is a sexualised object and subsequently gets depersonalised. He signifies male desire and the described reaction to it must be similar to the pederast’s expected emotional experience. His presence leads to erotic contemplation or admiration to everyone present, even the boys. This is remarkable enough for Plato to emphasise and implies that they, as supposed object of the male pederastic gaze, were not assumed to possess such an objectifying gaze of their own. This reflects the inherent unequal power balance between seer and seen: the erastḗs actively looks and the erṓmenos is to be passively looked at. Of course, this passage also establishes the captivating allure Charmides must have possessed. Yet this gaze does not completely back up Mulvey’s theory. The young man is essentially presented as powerful, because the sight of his appearance overwhelms the men in the room and renders them in a petrified state of bewildered awe. In fact, they are struck dumb. When considering the profound force that was ascribed to erȏs in relation to the eye, this does not surprise. Power relations between lover and beloved are thus made ambiguous through the gaze for on the one hand the youth is made into a sexual

107 Pl. Ly. 206a. 108 T. Brennan, ‘Socrates and Epictetus’ in S. Ahbel-Rappe and R. Kamtekar (eds), A companion to Socrates (Chichester 2009) 285-298, at 294; Thgn. 1271 suggests much the same wherein Theognis accuses his boy of ‘slutting around’. 109 Pl. Chrm. 154c-d.

24 object for the pleasure of the adult man, but on the other hand this scopophilia weakens him and leaves him flustered and surrendered to love. Hence representation of the youth as an objectified image and sexual fantasy, as well as reflection of the erastḗs which results in a loss of power, are exemplified in this passage. Sokrates has, at this point, not shown the same intense reaction and asks if his soul is as fair as his looks, to which he gets an affirming answer.110 Initially it seems Sokrates is implicitly critiquing this passion-driven gaze and attitude of the men about. He wishes to engage in philosophical discourse with Charmides, so he is fetched to sit beside the man much to his ephemeral delight.111 It does not take long for the atmosphere to turn markedly sexual again, but this time it is Sokrates who becomes overwhelmed:

I began to feel perplexed, and my former confidence in looking forward to a quite easy time in talking with him had been knocked out of me. And…he gave me such a look with his eyes as passes description, and was just about to plunge into a question, and when all the people in the wrestling- school surged round about us on every side—then, ah then, my noble friend, I saw inside his cloak and caught fire, and could possess myself no longer; and I thought none was so wise in love-matters as Cydias, who in speaking of a beautiful boy recommends someone to “beware of coming as a fawn before the lion, and being seized as his portion of flesh”; for I too felt I had fallen a prey to some such creature.112 The Athenian feels perplexed, cannot control himself anymore and expresses he feels as if seized by Charmides, and violently at that when considering the analogy of a predator and prey. This is not unlike Xenophon’s Sokrates who exclaimed that the impact of a pretty face on the eyes was like a scorpion’s sting. More than once he puts himself in a passive perspective in relation to the beautiful youth but it is plain that Charmides remains subjected to the objectifying gaze. And emotionally, the adult or (prospective) erastḗs felt as if possessed or taken by the boy. In this case remarkably so because he catches sight of part of Charmides’ naked body beneath his cloak. Presumably, he saw his genitals which would mean that these body parts were highly attractive to the (adult) man, or otherwise merely a glimpse of skin that nevertheless inspired great passion. But more than that Sokrates claims to be aflame after glimpsing voyeuristically at the adolescent’s body, underlining the erotic force of vision. This metaphor also suggests aptly the intense emotional reaction in the form of suffering that gazing at the youth’s sexualised body could inspire. This is not merely a typical trait of Sokrates as boy-crazy113 but it seems to be a reoccurring theme within the expression of desire for a

110 Pl. Chrm. 154e. 111 Pl. Chrm. 155b-c. 112 Pl. Chrm. 155d-e. 113 G.A. Nall, for instance, sets Sokrates apart in his craze for beautiful young men, suggesting that his expressed desire is uniquely his: G.A. Nall, Forms of classical Athenian homosexuality in transhistorical, cross-cultural,

25 youngster, as it is also present in (late) archaic lyrical poetry.114 Additionally it can be tentatively inferred from the quoted poem by Kydias (fl. 5th century BC) that such a response and the accompanying emotions upon seeing an object of desire were indeed considered common and part of pederastic culture in the classical era, too. In the Phaidros, Sokrates explains to the eponymous interlocutor that such behaviour is driven by compulsion that makes the older lover want to appreciate his young partner with all senses – touch, hearing, sight – and never leave him. Therefore he does not mind serving him in all manners.115 Even though Plato does not describe the young man’s entrancing appearance, it is clear that he is still framed by the pederastic gaze and that his presence is defined by his (erotically attractive) body that is repeatedly focus of attention. However, not merely Charmides’ body has an affective quality. A bit earlier on in the passage, Sokrates mentions the look he gave him, and even though he does not describe explicitly if it has any (physiological) effect on him, the way he phrases it indicates that it indeed was a factor that plunged the man into his perplexed state. Desirability came from the eyes of Charmides, even if his look was, on his part, not intended as seductive. In an ironic inversion, it is actually the gaze of the youth that begets him power because it (partially) renders Sokrates insecure and overwhelmed. This, too, is a trope that can be found in lyric poems with phrases such as ‘Eros, melting me once more with his gaze from under dark lids…’ and Pindaros’ (517– 438 BC) exclamation that any who catches a glance of a boy’s returned gaze could (and should) toss one on the waves of desire.116 This actual gaze is vastly different from that of the older man, however, as the youth is not described to check out the man’s body let alone that his gaze objectifies him. Yet the result does subdue the older male because it is part of the boy’s charm if not erotic force that emanates from him. For Sokrates, the consequences for the adult man, which results in a loss of power in this case, is central to his experience with beautiful youths. Lastly a comment can be made about the modest behaviour that was encouraged in boys of the right age. Charmides naturally possesses it, indicated by his blushing when Sokrates compliments him, which made him ‘…more beautiful than ever, for his modesty became his years.’117 When out in public (aside from the gymnasion) boys wore cloaks to cover themselves

biosocial and demographic perspective. A response to Dover, Foucault and Halperin (Diss. State University of New York 2001) 154-157. 114 See e.g. Anac. Fr. 359 PMG: ‘I love Cleobulus, I am mad for Cleobulus, I gaze at Cleobulus.’; Ibyc. Fr. 287 PMG: ‘…I tremble at him [Eros] as he comes…’ 115 Pl. Phdr. 240d-e. 116 Ibyc. Fr. 287 PMG; Pind. Fr. 123 Snell-Maehler; see also Simon. Fr. 22.12: ‘And alluring desire from his eyelids…’ 117 Pl. Chrm. 158c-d.

26 up (see also chapter 3) which might recall the humble paragon woman who also had to be covered. E. Reeder hypothesises that women ideally had to keep their eyes downcast to avoid looking men in the eye because of the erotic force eye-contact would stimulate.118 Considering the arousing impact of boy’s gazes and the sight of their bodies it can be assumed that their modesty was meant to avert the male gaze in quite the same manner.

2.2.2 Lysis and Euthydemos

Other Platonic dialogues featuring and framing paides are less extensive in their descriptions and presence of pederastic gazing. Both the Lysis and Euthydemos are categorised within Plato’s early period and deal with friendship and the sophist-eristic argument as contrasted with the Socratic argument respectively. In both these works two desired boys named Lysis and Kleinias enter the stage, and this stage is appropriately and unsurprisingly the gymnasion. On his way towards the Lykeion,119 Sokrates encounters acquaintances who convince him to join them to spend time at a newly constructed wrestling school instead. He concedes not in the least because they mentioned that a number of handsome young men pass their time there.120 Sokrates wishes to know who is the most handsome, however, whereupon he soon gets his answer: Lysis. He has never heard that name before and does not know the boy, to which he gets a telling answer: ‘You must, I am sure, be anything but ignorant of the boy’s appearance: that alone would be enough to know him by.’121 Unsurprisingly, it is his looks that define him among the adult men and it is almost carried as a badge of pride and identity. When Sokrates eventually lays eyes on him when entering the palaistra’s grounds, he sees for himself that the boy is indeed ‘well-made’ but also ‘well-bred’.122 He is well-bred because of his manners but also bashful demeanour; he barely dares to approach Sokrates and his friends.123 Charmides was also shy, and this is indeed an assumed if not desired trait of the paidika. Kleinias, too, is easily flustered. When asked a question, the youth blushed which implicitly shows his modesty.124 Furthermore this boy is to be gazed at by his lover Ktesippos, who goes out of his way to keep him under his fixed stare which once more underlines that it generally is the lover who actively gazes while the beloved is the object of such a desirous look.125

118 E. Reeder, Pandora. Women in classical Greece (Princeton 1995) 123-126. 119 A gymnasion in Athens and a favoured spot of Sokrates. 120 Pl. Ly. 203b, 204b. 121 Pl. Ly. 204e. 122 Pl. Ly. 207a. 123 Pl. Ly. 207b. 124 Pl. Euthyd. 275d. 125 Pl. Euthyd. 274c.

The boy to be enjoyed as spectacle is addressed in Alkibiades I where Sokrates notes that all of Alkibiades’ lovers have abandoned him save for himself. All those ex-lovers, and more generally all pederasts, he dubs lovers of the body who leave when the flower of youth fades.126 Beard growth is, of course, a well-known terminus for such relationships but the emphasis on the importance of the (youthful) body makes the assumed objectifying eye of the adult men ever so clear. Indeed, when Alkibiades tells the tale of his failed seduction of the philosopher, he relates first and foremost about his youthful good looks and their intimate wrestling in the palaistra to lure him into an intimate relationship with him, to no avail.127 In the Symposion Alkibiades claims that the beauties Sokrates approaches, amongst whom he himself but also Charmides and Euthydemos, are eventually embarrassed by him because he publicly scorns their beauty in the end.128 This can be explained through Sokrates’ ultimate quest for virtue and the higher Form of Beauty; true beauty.129 Even though he is greatly affected by the alluring looks of the young men he meets, this is to him not the most important. Such beauty is merely a stepping stone towards ideas even more beautiful than the boy he is attracted to. The philosopher is not necessarily indifferent to (physical) beauty, but let this inspire him into more meaningful philosophical discussions that he values more than bodily appeal.130 T. Brennan takes this attitude even further, however, and gives a rather psychological explanation for Sokrates’ love-hate relationship with beauty. He suggests that it was his ugliness in the eyes of his contemporaries that engendered this attitude, because he himself, when young, might have been humiliatingly overlooked by the adult men considering their obsession with beauty of their (prospective) paidika, which he lacked.131 Even if this is conjecture, it is highly likely that Sokrates did not meet the requirements of the pederastic gaze with his famous ‘bad’ looks and it might attest the deep-seated internalisation of such a gaze among the Athenian youth which could result in self-objectification or self-consciousness. That they were (made) aware of such a gaze is indicated by the covering cloaks they wore and their imposed modesty, yet they also needed to show off their well-made bodies to attract and satisfy pederastic attention. This undoubtedly stimulated self-sexualisation such as Alkibiades displays. In these works, therefore, one can see to a lesser extent the representation of the boy as an image, as instead the focus lies with the

126 Pl. Alc. 1.131: Sokrates, of course, loves the soul of Alkibiades. 127 Pl. Symp. 217a-c. 128 Pl. Symp. 222b; assumably these were real events the reader would know of or could recall. 129 Pl. Symp. 211c-d; 218e-219a. 130 G. Danzig, Apologizing for Socrates. How Plato and Xenophon created our Socrates (Lanham 2010) 208. 131 Also there was the obsession with male beauty more generally: Brennan, ‘Socrates and Epictetus’ 293-294.

28 reflection for the erṓmenos as his internalisation of the gaze is reflected in the words and behaviour of the aforementioned young men.

2.3 Xenophon and dangerous beauty

Like Plato, Xenophon was an accomplished student within Sokrates’ circle and admired his tutor who features in the dialogues he wrote. But Xenophon’s Sokrates is not the same as Plato’s, especially when it concerns pederastic matters. The Xenophontean philosopher is more apprehensive if not hostile towards homoerotic desire and paints its consummation in a rather bad light, for instance by comparing the deed to a swine’s rubbing against rocks.132 Xenophon’s suspected discomfort for the Athenian practice is palpable throughout most of his Socratic works, wherein he makes of the philosopher a figurehead of restraint and moderation.133 But homosexual attraction is something the characters feel intensely and it does play a role even if the philosopher propagates not to give in to carnal pleasures and urges others not to do so either.134 Xenophon’s Symposion is especially interesting when studying the impact of youthful beauty and the effect of their objectification as well as sexualisation which is shaped by Sokrates’ (and the general) male pederastic gaze.

2.3.1 Symposion

The Xenophontean Symposion is a text that concerns itself with various themes, one of which is beauty and passion, or erȏs, which gets divided in a good (chaste) and bad (sexual) type. The discussions are variably serious or more light-hearted which is also reflected in the passages discussed. The conversations are set during a feast hosted by Kallias in honour of the youth he courted, Autolykos, who is one of the famous young beauties of his time. Another such boy is Kritoboulos who is also present at the scene. The descriptions of these striplings’ effect on the men and their framing in these men’s perspective as set out are used in this section. Already in the opening lines of the text there are men who are made to leer when the special guest of the party walked into the room:

132 Xen. Mem. 1.2.29-30; cf. Xen. Smp. 8.31-32. 133 Hupperts, Eros dikaios. Deel 2, 140-141; see however Lear, ‘Ancient pederasty’ 117-118 for Xenophon’s differing attitudes towards pederasty in his philosophical works on the one hand and historical works on the other. Furthermore it is noteworthy that Xenophon describes himself to be attracted to Alkibiades’ son Kleinias, not minding kisses from him (Xen. Mem. 1.3.). 134 Xen. Mem. 1.3.8-13, 2.6.32.

…[J]ust as the sudden glow of a light at night draws all eyes to itself, so now the beauty of Autolycus compelled everyone to look at him. And second, there was not one of the onlookers who did not feel his soul stirred by the boy; some of them grew quieter than before, others even assumed some kind of a pose.135

Mulvey’s characterisation of the gaze’s object as spectacle of beauty again seems apt as the men cannot help but to look at Autolykos because of it. Like Charmides, his to-be-looked-at-ness is highlighted which immediately implements a form of eroticism into the narrative and makes of the erṓmenos an image leading to erotic contemplation for the bearers of the look. Xenophon elaborates further and makes the self-evident remark that the men who look upon such (regal) beauty are possessed by the chaste god Eros, but he also mentions that this god shapes the gaze of the admirer, making it more affectionate.136 This is especially applicable to his lover, Kallias. Further on in the text he likens the gaze of a lover to the stare of someone who took an unfortunate look at the Gorgons, meaning that the sight of the beloved leaves one petrified and unable to tear his gaze away from him.137 This recalls again the effect Charmides had on the men in the room when he entered in Plato’s dialogue and stresses the erotic force of vision. More interesting, perhaps, is the effect such sexualisation through the pederastic gaze could have on the experience of being with a boy. Xenophon’s Sokrates insistently advocates for abstention when it comes to matters such as homosexual intercourse, but Charmides remarks that the philosopher in fact does not practice what he preaches:

“But why in the world, Socrates,” Charmides now asked, “are you trying to scare your friends away from the beauties, when you yourself—I’ve seen you, by Apollo,” he continued, “when the two of you were hunting down something in the same book at the school, sitting head to head, with your naked shoulder pressing against Critobulus’ naked shoulder?”

“Dear me!” exclaimed Socrates. “So that’s what affected me like the bite of some wild animal! And for over five days my shoulder smarted and I felt as if I had something like a sting in my heart. But now, Critobulus,” he said, “in the presence of all these witnesses I warn you not to lay a finger on me until you get as much hair on your chin as you have on your head.”138

Kritoboulous should not have touched the man while he is still in his youthful prime because this touch is highly arousing to the adult, which he dramatically associates with physical pain both in his shoulder that had come in contact with the skin of the boy, as well as his heart where erȏs could wreak its havoc. This shows concretely that the body of the pais was highly sexualised

135 Xen. Symp. 1.8-10. 136 Xen. Symp. 1.10. 137 Xen. Symp. 4.24. 138 Xen. Symp. 4.27-28.

30 and in fact objectified through its intense erotic power it has over the man, which ties in with the previous reasoning above of a youth’s modesty being enacted in order to repel the pederastic gaze as men were assumed to be greatly distracted if they could view or touch. It has to be addressed that this passage does come across as jesting in nature with the way Sokrates defends himself. However, he mentions this incident in the Memorabilia as well, stating that it was a bad thing that he did (namely the touching of his shoulder) and he felt obliged to rub his skin for days because it felt as if an animal had stung him. He could feel this into his marrow, even.139 An exaggeration, no doubt, but it does parallel the intense emotional reactions to male beauty and the gaze one would expect from the pederast as revealed in the preceding parts of this chapter. Additionally, it coincides with the comparison he makes between the scorpion’s sting and looking at a beautiful boy’s face and the more general ancient notion that erȏs can be a violent force. So here too, the focus of the male pederastic gaze seems to lie with the effect it had on the adult man (reflection) while the representation of the youth as sexual fantasy or object is mainly implied.

2.4 Conclusions

Mulvey’s theory of objectification applies quite easily to the Platonic and Xenophontean sources, but it also deviates from it as the effect of the gaze is not necessarily an experiential empowering one. Whenever famed adolescents get introduced into the narrative of both Plato and Xenophon, they are primarily characterised by their appearance and the subsequent reaction to this by the men around them. This conforms to the objectification that is part of Mulvey’s male gaze which sets out that the object of the gaze is primarily characterised by their to-be-looked-at-ness. Especially in Charmides it is made clear that the adult man possesses an eroticised gaze that the stripling is made subject to, which is a type of viewing the youth was not supposed to partake in himself as regards the older man. The representation of the boy by focussing on his face and body is indirectly made clear as these are often his (mentioned) defining characteristics and what makes the men react so intensely to his beauty. In Xenophon’s Symposion this notion is taken even further as Sokrates claims to have been in physical pain after touching the bare skin of the beautiful Kritoboulous. This underlines both the sexualisation of his body as well as the reflection for the erastḗs who is being overwhelmed, and thus subdued. Even though the division of (sexual) roles of erastḗs and erṓmenos are rarely questioned, the pederastic gaze does not

139 Xen. Mem. 1.3.12.

31 empower the man and establish him as a partner who is in control, as it instead suggests the opposite in the emotional experience of the adult man. Hence the men are petrified when looking upon the stripling or become overwhelmed, which Sokrates likens to being prey to a predator. Lastly the desired youths as described by Plato show an awareness to the pederastic gaze they were expected to be subjected to, which turns into self-sexualisation. This reveals the reflection of the erṓmenos through the internalisation of the gaze which urged the youths to cover themselves up with their cloaks to express their expected modesty. That adult men thought this necessary is made clear by the impassioned response to the sight of the body, and the accompanying erotic, penetrating, force of such an image to the eye of the man. Yet they are also shown attracting attention to their bodies in order to seduce a prospective lover. This schizophrenic relation with the gaze and their bodies – teasing and showing it on the one hand and averting and hiding it on the other – was all a product of the sexualised pederastic gaze of the Athenian man.

Chapter 3 Gazing upon the youths on your cup. Pederastic scenes on Attic pottery

‘The boy is beautiful’ (ho pais kalos) is a formulaic phrase that accompanies numerous paintings of youthful figures on the Attic earthenware of the archaic and early classical period.140 Indeed, pederasty is a prominent theme featured on both the black-figure and later red-figure pottery. As such it has been subjected to close scrutiny of scholars since Beazley’s publication of the vases in the first half of the 20th century. Dover naturally made use of the vase paintings for his seminal work and deduced from their iconography the ideal figure of the erṓmenos, with his musculature, broad shoulders, slim waist and plump buttocks and thighs.141 That the pictures show an idealised world is generally true and as such they do not necessarily reflect the historical reality of daily life.142 The reoccurring iconographic elements the painters used to give shape to the pederastic or erotic scenes are in part aestheticisation and artistic convention, and only indirectly represent the social actualities of pederasty as it was experienced.143 But when determining the pederastic gaze and the erotics of looking in relation to the paintings (of boys), this is not a hindrance. Viewing and the gaze are, self-evidently and inherently, scopological acts. The vase paintings made in the early 5th century BC are in this respect quintessential sources when inspecting the pederastic gaze in classical-era culture144 as it influenced the depiction of youths which, in turn, were to be enjoyed by the (adult) male spectator. Especially the portrayals of

140 Or otherwise a boy’s name accompanied the compliment; see e.g. BAPD 275938, accessed on 20/06/2019; BAPD 200371, accessed on 20/06/2019. 141 Dover, Greek homosexuality, 70: His stance that masculine boys were especially admired is, however, an exaggeration as there are also paintings featuring long-haired, more androgynous looking boys. See e.g. Fig. 7, BAPD 206314, accessed on 08/07/2019; BAPD 8839, accessed on 08/07/2019; BAPD 203751, accessed on 08/07/2019. 142 H.A. Shapiro, ‘Eros in love. Pederasty and pornography in Greece’ in A. Richlin (ed.), Pornography and representation in Greece and Rome (Oxford 1992) 53-72, at 55-57; Lear and Cantarella, Images of ancient Greek pederasty, 23-25; R. Osborne in fact vehemently denies their historicity: R. Osborne, ‘Imaginary intercourse. An illustrated history of Greek pederasty’ in D. Allen, P. Christesen and P. Millet (eds), How to do things with history. New approaches to ancient Greece (Oxford 2018) 313-338, at 336. 143 Lear and Cantarella, Images of ancient Greek pederasty, 23-24. 144 The pinnacle of (homo)erotic vase fabrication of the late archaic era continued in the early classical period, when red-figure took the place of black-figure, although their popularity apparently decreased during the later 5th century. Despite their date of manufacture being approximately half a century prior to that of the literary sources as discussed last chapter, the iconography and celebration of the youthful male nude (as exemplified by the kalos- inscriptions) of the red-figure paintings show similarities with the conventions of pederasty as reflected in the classical discourse (e.g. Plato’s dialogues).

33 boys and athletes that were produced for utensils of the symposion are deemed erotic and catered specifically to erastai.145 This is not contested, but how these images accommodated to and titillated the male (pederastic) gaze is less explored.146 Instead of browsing through and analysing the countless paintings on pottery,147 which would be an enterprise too grand for this thesis’ purpose and span, a selection of red-figure paintings is made. The chapter shall furthermore be divided on the basis of themes that are occurrent and have been recognised in the pederastic scenes of the early classical pictures: ‘the cloaked youth’, ‘the ‘pin-up’ youth’ and ‘the affected erastḗs’. D.M. Robinson and E.J. Fluck have shown in their 1937 publication on love-names (i.e. kalos-inscriptions) that many of the elite youths depicted and referenced to by name on the earthenware later appear to occupy important position in Athenian society, a conclusion based on the ‘social register of kalos-names’ and historical records of the polis.148 This urges Percy to argue that the pictures of idolised boys not merely functioned as eroticised pin-ups but first and foremost celebrated these accomplished young men.149 This does not take into account the many images of adolescents that are not accompanied by a name or even the epithet of ‘beautiful’. These must have been created primarily for the pleasure of the symposion-attendee’s gaze, and to an extent this is applicable too to the cloaked adolescent. The kylikes that are classified as featuring the affected erastḗs can additionally reveal (part of) the workings of the gaze as performed by the lover which must have been recognizable to the viewership of erastai at the banquet. 3.1 The cloaked youth

As F. Frontisi-Ducroux has since noted, the symposion ‘…was the moment, if ever there was one, to eroticize one’s own gaze, and Attic painters displayed a great deal of ingenuity and talent in inspiring their clientele.’150 One of the more famous pederastic paintings is one by the Briseis Painter (Fig. 1). It shows a lover and beloved gazing into each other’s eyes as they move

145 Lear and Cantarella, Images of ancient Greek pederasty, 38. 146 See however F. Frontisi-Ducroux’s article which explores the importance of the eye in relation to desire, also on vases depicting eye-contact or gazes among characters: F. Frontisi-Ducroux, ‘Eros, desire and the gaze’ in N.B. Kampen (ed.), Sexuality in ancient art. Near East, Egypt, Greece and Italy (Cambridge 1996) 81-100. The particular set of vases, and themes, as set out in this chapter are however not treated by her. 147 The online Beazley Archive Pottery Database (BAPD) allows one to search for considerable amount of black- and red-figure pottery as found and classified by Beazley. This database has been used for the selection of some vases, but not exclusively. See . 148 D.M. Robinson and E.J. Fluck, A study of the Greek love-names. Including a discussion of paederasty and a prosopographia (Baltimore 1937) 4; G. Hedreen, The image of the artist in archaic and classical Greece. Art, poetry, and subjectivity (Cambridge 2016) 160. 149 Percy, Pederasty and pedagogy in archaic Greece, 120. 150 Frontisi-Ducroux, ‘Eros, desire and the gaze’ 95.

34 in to kiss. The boy wears a himation that seems to slide down to reveal his chest, a laxity (perhaps purposeful) he can get away with in the presence of his erastḗs, while this casts the observing symposiast in the role of voyeur. The returned gaze indicates their established relationship.151 This sentiment was later also expressed by Plato in the Phaidros where the erṓmenos knows he is loved through the reflection he sees of himself and his beauty in the man’s eyes as if he was gazing in a mirror.152 Even here, only the youth is subjected to the gaze as he in fact adopts that of his lover when perceiving his own beautiful qualities and appearance. This cannot directly be gleaned from the tondo, yet the ideal depiction of the youth and pederastic setting more generally appealed to the consumer. A degree of narcissism, as defined by Lacan and Mulvey, might have accompanied the pederastic gaze in relation to the cup as the viewer identifies with the ego-ideal of the erastḗs who reflects ideas of masculinity, in this case by having courted a young and handsome boy. Such exemplary figures are the objects Lacan describes as necessary to recreate the mirror phase in order to adapt to the societal ideal. Here this would have been, more specifically, an elite ideal. Observing a kylix-painting was a rather intimate affair when drinking. The picture was brought close to the symposiast’s face as he sipped from the shallow cup. In effect, it would have demanded all of his attention with the painting covering his full field of view, assuring his gaze was fixed on what was depicted.153 When considering that the kylix-decorations of youths were spectated in an eroticised setting, and thus with an eroticised (pederastic) eye, it is striking that a considerable number of paintings show modest young men securely wrapped in their concealing himation. On first sight such a picture does not strike as particularly erotic. In courtship scenes such as featured on the kylikes in figures 2 and 3, it aptly establishes the aidṓs (modesty) of a pais and hence the ideal picture of a courting situation where adult men approach the boys who are covered by their mantle from head to ankle. Additionally their gazes are lowered to avoid eye-contact and possibley inflame the male with passion. By covering themselves, they do not only guard themselves from the leering gazes of men, but also repel the pederastic gaze so that the man would not get overwhelmed by the sight of the stripling’s body, as was established in the second chapter.154

151 Mutual gazes are also very common in black-figure erotic scenes. 152 This happened after the boy’s beauty had entered the man’s eyes via streams: Pl. Phdr. 255a-b. 153 J. Grethlein, Aesthetic experiences and classical antiquity. The significance of form in narratives and pictures (Cambridge 2017) 191. 154 G. Ferrari, Figures of speech. Men and maidens in ancient Greece (Chicago 2002) 90-92.

Fig. 1. Tondo of an attic red-figure cup attributed to the Briseis Painter (c. 480 BC). Musée du Louvre, G 278 (BAPD 204415), © Musée du Louvre/Wikimedia Commons, accessed on 21/06/2019.

Fig. 2. Attic red-figure stemmed pottery cup depicting a courting scene ascribed to the Euaichme Painter (c. 470 BC). Ashmolean Museum of Art and Archaeology, AN1886.587 (BAPD 209671), © Ashmolean Museum, University of Oxford, accessed on 20/06/2019.

Fig. 3. Drinking cup (kylix) with men and boys conversing attributed to Makron (490–480 BC). Museum of Fine Arts Boston, 89.272 (BAPD 204883), © Museum of Fine Arts Boston, accessed on 20/06/2019. When setting the scene of homoerotic pursuit, such depictions make sense. Yet a number of paintings on the interiors of kylikes show adolescents wrapped in their mantle without a companion, of which figures 4 to 7 are examples. They grace the tondo as sole figures for the drinker to view when downing his wine. In this case, the picture encourages interaction as the single youths are subjected to the symposiast and his erotic gaze, so they do not cover themselves for the sake of the men illustrated around them, but because the man using the cup is staring at him. The boy in Fig. 4 even appears to turn away from the viewer to hide from his gaze and so displays his modesty. The string bag with astragaloi (dice) in the background represents a courting gift,155 but there is no erastḗs in sight, which further insinuates that the party’s attendee is actually fulfilling this role for the boy on the kylix while being in the intoxicating and merry realm of the symposion. Despite the self-conscious modesty, these pictures could still evoke eroticism, for what is concealed titillates the imagination of the audience. The figures central in the tondi of figures 5 and 6 appear to be more religiously preoccupied instead of concerning themselves with being looked at. The former holds his hands out in prayer, although a fragment (portraying an altar?) has not survived. Despite his demure wrappings, the shape and outlining of his backside and legs are accentuated, which reveals the

155 Lear and Cantarella, Images of Greek pederasty, 39.

Fig. 4. Attic red-figure kylix attributed to Makron (480–470 BC). Staatliche Antikensammlungen und Glyptothek München, Antikensammlungen 2658 (BAPD 204954), © Staatliche Antikensammlungen und Glyptothek München/R. Kühling, accessed on 21/06/2019.

Fig. 5. Red-figure kylix attributed to the Scheurleer Painter (500–450 BC). Allard Pierson Museum, 2262 (BAPD 203660), © Allard Pierson Museum, accessed on 21/06/2019.

38 male gaze the kylix is catering to by putting emphasis on the body.156 Something similar can be discerned from the decorated earthenware showing a juvenile bending over while covered as he smiles at the herm in front of him (Fig. 6). The sexualised ambiance is, in this case, heightened and highlighted by the erect phallus sported by the herm pointing towards the youth, who takes on a rather suggestive pose while the painter added a couple of strokes to determine the shape of his body for emphasis. The herm might represent the desiring symposiast himself, while it looks at the cloaked body.157 Even if the youth is modestly covered, he is represented as an erotic image to be consumed by the adult man who repeatedly leers at the erṓmenos when the cup is lifted to his face and into his sight. That these paintings are often situated at the gymnasion stresses furthermore the courtship-like-ambiance and affirms the symposiast as the gazing, if not courting, erastḗs during the intimate one-on-one between picture and man. This establishes an active-passive aspect of the male gaze, where the lover looks and the beloved is to be looked at.

Fig. 6. Fragmented medallion of a cup with red figures (c. 470 BC). Musée du Louvre, CP11753 (BAPD 211453), © RMN-Grand Palais/Art Resource, NY, accessed on 20/06/2019.

156 Cf. BAPD 211550 which features a rather exaggerated bent-over pose, accessed on 24/06/2019. 157 J. Bravo, ‘Boys, herms, and the objectification of desire on Athenaian sympiotic vases’ EuGeStA 7 (2017) 1- 67, at 14.

In the last tondo discussed within the framework of the cloaked youth, the mantle covers most of the youthful figure without simultaneously drawing attention to his body via additional lines or a tight fit (Fig. 7). Instead, he stands out by means of his long hair that gives him a more androgynous look, and because of the active pose as captured by the painter. A wreath is placed on his head and a flute cover decorated with heart-shaped leaves accompanies him in the background. The foliage might be related to the Dionysian ivy, as this god, together with Eros, presided over the symposion.158 This gestures of movement through the raised arms, the stance with spread legs and his body that twists around to look behind him suggests running but it also shows similarities with depictions of dancing women and/or maenads on other kylikes. The presence of a wreath and (the cover of) a flute decorated with the god’s vine is noteworthy and hints further towards the youth engaging in a dance or otherwise establishes an sympotic setting that the viewer also took part in.159

Fig. 7. Kylix attributed to Douris (500–460 BC). Medelhavsmuseet, 1960:011 (BAPD 205277), © Medelhavsmuseet/Ekberg, accessed on 20/06/2019.

158 Frontisi-Ducroux, ‘Eros, desire and the gaze’ 95. 159 cf. for the dancing BAPD 200504, accessed on 23/06/2019; BAPD 200569, accessed on 23/06/2019; BAPD 352423, accessed on 23/06/2019; cf. for the running BAPD 200527, accessed on 23/06/2019 and fig.9 and 10. See also fig. 10 which depicts a youth revelling in a suggestive pose while holding a kylix which makes the boy seem to partake in the symposion.

In fact, the allusion to the boy’s movement was likely enhanced by the wine, diluted with water, that swirled gently around the cup and distorted or sometimes obscured the picture.160 In this manner the picture and the creation of imagined movement could be enjoyed by the symposiast- erastḗs who regarded this alluring portrayal of a boy who exudes eroticism exactly for what he does not show, hiding his body in an attempt to dispel the pederastic gaze of the adult male by manner of his himation. Still the visualized motions would allude to the body beneath and as such actually attract the gaze. Even when cloaked, the youth represents a sexual fantasy for the symposiast, whose pederastic gaze the figure is reacting to by manner of his aidṓs. In essence, the youths are subjected to the gaze and erotic imagination of the drinker as they envelop his whole field of view when lifted to his face. Consequently, through this act of spectating, the symposiast is being urged into the role of the modest boy’s desirer or even erastḗs, hence looking at the painting of such a boy would affirm the identity of the viewer as being the (elite) man who was expected to desire the boy in the bloom of his youth.

3.2 The ‘pin-up’ youth

What can be considered as a follow-up of the paintings previously discussed, is the depiction of youths whose himatia have either been pulled aside or are left open to reveal their bodies. This is a category that is more straightforwardly in line with the established eroticised pederastic gaze that was catered to via the wine-cups the attendees drank from. The figures are no longer abashed or ideally modest as was expected from the erṓmenos in Greek society, as they instead make no effort to keep their mantles tightly wrapped around themselves to maintain their aidṓs. When such a youth is featured on a tondo, as is the case with most selected vases in this chapter, this creates an intimate setting where the boy is exposed to the symposiast in order to tease and satisfy the pederastic gaze, as has been previously set out. One vessel attributed to Makron (fl. 490–480 BC; Fig. 8a, fig. 8b) is almost completely dedicated to half-nude adolescents, safe for one bearded man who chases after a boy which establishes the scene as an expressly homoerotic one. At the same time, on the other side of the exterior side, a more remarkable pursuit is depicted as a youth chases after his age-equal. His desire for the other is unmistakable as can be discerned from the notable phallus and his stretched out hand to reach for the boy. Furthermore he possesses a gaze, and it is set on the fleeing lad’s body, while the other of the two looks straight towards his assailant’s eyes which

160 Stansbury-O’Donnell, Looking at Greek art (Cambridge 2011) 100.

41 could indicate a brash rejection, though Frontisi-Ducroux argues it may imply implicit consent.161 The latter explanation seems plausible as he appears to be taking off the cloak draped around his shoulders. This sets an almost humorous tone to the piece, and arguably the aroused state of the pais as well as the focus on their eroticised nakedness were factors to be enjoyed by the sympotic viewership.

Fig. 8a. Drinking cup (kylix) attributed to Makron (c. 480 BC). Museum of Fine Arts Boston, 89.272 (BAPD 204944), © Museum of Fine Arts Boston, accessed on 20/06/2019.

Fig. 8b. Drinking cup (kylix) attributed to Makron (c. 480 BC). Museum of Fine Arts Boston, 89.272 (BAPD 204944), © Museum of Fine Arts Boston, accessed on 20/06/2019.

161 Hubbard, ‘Pindar, Theoxenus, and the homoerotic eye’ 277; Frontisi-Ducroux, ‘Eros, desire and the gaze’ 87- 88. 42

On the tondo of the kylix, Makron painted a similar image with a youth moving to the left while clutching onto the mantle that is falling open to reveal his boyish body. Such a glimpse could be all the more striking or titillating to the symposiast exactly because the erṓmenos he visually engages with is holding onto the himation that still obscures part of him. Considering the theme of pursuit, the youth may even be represented to run from the man in possession of the kylix, fulfilling the role of the chasing lover as he keeps him close in his eyesight whenever he lifts the cup. The playful smile indicates consent not least of all because he allows the viewer a peek of his body inside the himation, making of the boy an objectified spectacle to be enjoyed during the communal event in honour of Dionysos. A red-figure kylix by the same painter shows similarities with the aforementioned tondo through its depiction of a running youth holding onto his courting gift while the loose cloak appears to slip off, urging the figure to raise his arm to prevent it from uncovering him further (Fig. 9). Quite plainly, the painting represents the pais as an object of male desire who allows himself to be subjected to the pederastic gaze, unlike the juveniles that are securely wrapped in their himatia. With no erastḗs depicted it is likely that this role was again reserved for the symposiast as he gazed. His body is facing outward towards the viewer and displayed openly. The running position especially allows a good glance at the thighs erastai are often expressed to desire. Makron’s balancing youth (Fig. 10) does much the same in exposing the body in full

Fig. 9. Red-figured cup attributed to Makron Fig. 10. Attic red-figure cup attributed to Makron (c. 480 BC). The British Museum, (c.480 BC). The J. Paul Getty Museum, 86.AE.292 1867,0508.1012 (BAPD 204945), © The (BAPD 275980), © The J. Paul Getty Museum, British Museum, accessed on 21/06/2019. bjectId=461480&partId=1&images=true> accessed on 20/06/2019.

43 frontal perspective to the drinking spectator, and allows an even better view of plump thighs in a pose that can be considered suggestive. The sympotic setting of this piece gives it an immersive quality. In the case of Fig. 11 emphasis is instead placed on the back of the single sprinting boy, and its situation on the interior of the cup, yet again, makes it clear that the painter intended with this image, focusing on desirable assets of the boy as his backside and thighs, to give the observer ‘…a private show of a naked boy, with no competing onlookers.’162 Additionally erotic intent or ambiguity could be highlighted by both gestures and objects, as is the case in Fig. 12 where a crouching athletic youth is looking intently at a jar of oil in his hand. Behind him is depicted a sponge. The manner of his nudity and the attributes reminds one of a gymnasiastic setting, and indeed the athletic nude in itself was celebrated and admired but the objects hint towards a specifically erotic meaning as given shape by the pederastic gaze.

Fig. 11. Drinking cup (kylix) with youth running attributed to the Triptolemos Painter (c. 500 BC). Museum of Fine Arts Boston, 13.81 (BAPD 203875), © Museum of Fine Arts Boston, accessed on 20/06/2019. Both the sponge and aryballos held sexual connotations in part because they were associated with the homoerotic setting of the palaistra, but also because these products were utilised

162 Bravo, ‘Boys, herms, and the objectification of desire on Athenaian sympiotic vases’ 21.

44 during, in the case of oil, or after sexual intercourse, in the case of the sponge.163 As such, it has been pointed out by M.F. Kilmer that the addition of such objects in paintings featuring couples represents the contemplation of coitus.164 That this is implied in the painting below is plausible especially when considering the gesture of the youth by pressing his fingers to his lips. This is generally understood to represent wonder and here it might showcase curiosity for what is to come (i.e. sexual intimacy).165 Here, too, through viewing the beloved on the tondo, the spectator was made into his lover possessing a desiring gaze and the preposition to be with handsome boys such as the ideal and sexually objectified depiction of one by the Scheurleer Painter. By looking at the beautiful youth and the attributes, his status as his lover is alluded to as gazing at the boy makes it so.

Fig. 12. Red-figure cup with a nude youth with an oil jar attributed to the Scheurleer Painter (c. 520 BC). Los Angeles County Museum of Art, AC1992.152.3, © Los Angeles County Museum of Art, accessed on 21/06/2019. The last examples to be examined within this category accentuate and sexualise the erṓmenos’ bodies in a similar manner with some noteworthy prominence for the backside of the youths. The clearest example of this is the psykter (wine cooler) of Fig. 13 that would have stood in the andrṓn where the symposion was taking place. It features pairs of couples and a kalos- inscription, revealing its homoerotic focus.

163 For the use of the sponge after intercourse: Ar. Lys. 912-913; Kilmer, Greek erotica on Attic red-figure vases (London 1993) 94-97 164 Kilmer, Greek erotica on Attic red-figure vases, 97. 165 F. Graf, ‘Gestures and convention. The gestures of Roman actors and orators’ in J.N. Bremmer and H. Roodenburg (eds), A cultural history of gesture. From antiquity to the present day (Cambridge 1991) 36-57, at 47- 48.

Fig. 13. Attic red-figure psykter attributed to Smikros (c. 510 BC). The J. Paul Getty Museum, 82.AE.53, © The J. Paul Getty Museum, accessed on 20/06/2019.

One figure in particular stands out by presenting to the external viewer a full view of the back of his body, while the placement of the strigil he uses directs the observer’s gaze towards the buttocks even more explicitly than happens in Fig. 11. This effectively presents the athlete as an object generating desire that was in line with the symposiast’s interests during the erotic setting of the party. Even though the backside of the boy on a cup designed by Onesimos (fl. 500–480 BC; Fig. 14) is also accentuated by his pose as well as the falling of his mantle, the frontality of his face is an unusual marker that would particularly add an immersive quality to the painting and engage the viewer.166 But instead of looking at the symposiast directly, the boy is directing his attention to the hare he holds in both of his hands. This love-gift, in turn, looks back into the eyes of the adolescent. Behind this mutual glance, symbolism is at play. As M. Haworth has convincingly recognised, ‘…[t]he hare is the boy, the boy is the hare.’167 In the eyes of the erastḗs, then, such a boy represented the idealised passive partner to be chased after. In another painting by the same artist, however, there is more direct interplay between illustrated boy and symposiast emphasised through frontality (Fig. 15). It shows a youth about to bathe, having put his belongings aside. On the basin is inscribed kalos which highlights that it concerns a boy to be admired, yet this is exactly what prevents him from actually getting to bathe. The frontal gaze of the boy indicates that he is being disturbed, and this is made even clearer from what he is saying: erkhetai, meaning either ‘[he] is coming’ or ‘[he] is going’. This would allude to the symposiast who lifted the cup to his face to drink before then lowering it again. So here, too, the painting of the boy is made to react to the gaze of the adult male. There is ample evidence of paintings of youths that were meant to titillate and cater to the erastḗs and his pederastic gaze. Just like the tondi with covered boys, these provided intimate visions of an erṓmenos and the man who utilised the cup, while his eroticised eye is not only satisfied by the focus on the body, but also with subtext alluding to sexual handlings. Such cups, then, were not unlike peep shows that would fit right at home at the symposion where adult men could indulge in (homo)erotic interests in a light-hearted fashion.

166 Frontisi-Ducroux, ‘Eros, desire and the gaze’ 85-89. 167 M. Haworth, ‘The wolfish lover. The dog as a comic metaphor in homoerotic symposium pottery’ Archimède. Archéologie et histoire anciennce 5 (2018) 7-23, at 12.

Fig. 14. Drinking cup (kylix) depicting atheletic combats attributed to Onesimos (490–480 BC). Museum of Fine Arts Boston, 1972.44 (BAPD 203287), © Museum of Fine Arts Boston, accessed on 20/06/2019.

Fig. 15. Red-figure cup attributed to Onesimos (c. 500–490 BC). Musée du Louvre, G 291 (BAPD 203286) © Musée du Louvre, accessed on 06/07/2019.

3.3 The affected erastḗs

The finely detailed kylix-painting of Douris (fl. 500–460 BC; Fig. 16) shows nothing quite out of the ordinary with its representation of a bearded man and the modestly clad youth he is attempting to court. As has been established, for the adult symposiast the actions and figure of such a desiring erastḗs-to-be presents the (elite) societal ideal-ego that he can relate to as a lover, or potential lover, himself. Yet despite the courting man’s assertiveness in approaching the adolescent in front of him, he appears reluctant to hand over the hare as he holds it behind him instead of presenting it to the boy. In line with this, his stance shows him taking a step back from the erṓmenos while he subsequently takes in the sight of him. This hesitation is not expressed by the youth who is in the process of reaching out his hand, still covered by his mantle, to accept the love-gift. The withdrawing of a gift is an established theme in vase painting and is an action of the erastḗs to urge the boy to reach farther and come closer.168 Nonetheless the reaction the man displays is interesting for the perceived impact the pederastic gaze could have on the adult man, as pictured by the painter. As it happens, such an artistic interpretation seems to echo the sentiment expressed by the archaic poets and later by writers as Plato and Xenophon in whose works erȏs is capable of rendering a man overwhelmed by desire when he looks at a youth’s body. The reaction of the erastḗs on the tondo may be explained when related to the expected reaction to eroticised viewing of the desired body as imbedded in Greek thought. The man not only has his gaze cast downwards to view the body of the boy, but he presumably catches a glimpse of the youth’s body inside the himation as the latter is about to extend his hand from the cloak to accept the gift. As a result, the erastḗs reacts by being delighted or overcome by what he sees, underlined by his pose and the hand he has raised to rest upon the upper part of his chest. The tondo in Fig. 17 manufactured around the same time shows an almost identical scene where the youth is reaching out to take the hare, but the bearded man moves back so that he is allowed a closer look of the youth’s naked body as he reaches out and moves closer to grab the gift. Here the reaction to the beauty of an erṓmenos is not made clear, yet it is evident that this male, too, fixates his gaze on the body of the youth in its naked splendor. The symposiast, in turn, can gaze along with the painted erastai and marvel at the ideal depiction of the erṓmenos on his cup.

168 Lear and Cantarella, Images of ancient Greek pederasty, 81.

Fig. 16. Red-figure kylix attributed to Douris (480–470 BC). Martin von Wagner Museum, L 482 (BAPD 205287), © Martin von Wagner Museum der Universität Würzburg/Wikimedia Commons, accessed on 20/06/2019.

Fig. 17. Red-figure kylix attributed to the Ancona Painter (470–460 BC). Musée de Laon, 371056 (BAPD 211537), © Musée de Laon, picture from C. Hupperts et al. (eds), Olympische spelen. Sport en opvoeding in de Griekse oudheid. Een bronnenboek (Leeuwarden 1989) 134, pl. 107.

The desire of an erastḗs, to the point of it resulting in the loss of his position of power, is humorously reproduced on a fragmentary pelike featuring the initiation of intercrural intercourse (Fig. 18). The adult is leaning against youth in a passionate attempt to relieve his sexual urges, but there is a curious addition of a hare and a dog in the picture. Just as the rabbit could be presented as a stand-in for the beloved, the wild hunting dog could do so in the case of the lover.169 Lykos (wolf) was a slang term used to denote the erastḗs, who, like a dog, chased after his prey.170 But that the man was not always so actively powerful and in control of his demeanor around the handsome young is mentioned in passing by Aischines (389–314 BC), who calls them hunters who are easily trapped.171 Such a situation is given visual shape on the pelike where a pet dog is held securely on a leash by the erṓmenos, which could metaphorically represent how this boy (emotionally) possesses the erastḗs who succumbs to his carnal desire. From these vases it can tentatively be postulated that the reflection for the erastḗs, in the sense of a loss of power generated by the pederastic gaze, is being envisioned by the painter through using imagery that played upon the lover’s experience. This would fit the atmosphere of the symposion, where matters such as love for boys and pederasty more generally could be discussed (or sung) in a carefree manner.

Fig. 18. Red-figure vase (pelike) attributed to the Triptolemos Painter (c. 500 BC). Archeological Museum of Mykonos, 7 (BAPD 203813), © Archaeological Museum of Mykonos, picture from M.F. Kilmer, ‘Painters and pederasts. Ancient art, sexuality and social history’ in M. Golden and P. Toohey (eds), Inventing ancient culture. Historicism, periodization, and the ancient world (London and New York 1997) 36-49, at 43, Pl. 6.

169 Haworth, ‘The wolfish lover’ 14-16. 170 Ibid., 15. 171 Aeschin. In Tim. 1.195.

3.4. Conclusions

The early classical red-figure vases that have been highlighted in this chapter are but a small selection of the thousands of artworks that survive. Yet, they show a clear picture of the influence of the pederastic gaze on the cups that were to be used during the communal gathering of the symposion. Erotic contemplation as consequence for the erastḗs is central to all paintings adorning the tondi of the kylikes men drank from, as most youths are represented as sexual fantasies and are therefore objectified. When lifting the cup to sip, the sight of the idealised boy, cloaked or (semi-)nude, or one of courtship would be all the man observed and would temporarily immerse himself in. The courting lover functioned as ideal-ego, but also reflected the emotional experience such a man could find himself in when confronted with a handsome youth. In the images discussed that were classified as showing ‘the affected erastḗs’, this emotion ranged from awe to the ironic loss of power as he was compared to a dog held tightly on a leash by the beloved he ardently desires. Even the paintings of youths wrapped tightly in their himatia did not merely display the ideal modesty they were expected to display in order to avert the male pederastic gaze in protection of themselves as well as the men who could get erotically overwhelmed, but engaged actively with the symposiast as they reacted to the gaze he was making the pictured boys subject to. Subsequently, the man’s identity as potential erastḗs was underlined via the depicted reactions of the youth whether it be turning away in shame or presenting his body to him alongside attributes that alluded to copulation. This reaffirms that ideally, the erastḗs possessed an eroticised look while the youth represented a spectacle that was to be looked at. And that the erṓmenoi on the wine-cups were intended to be a spectacle, becomes most clear when looking at the ‘pin-up youth’ who lets his body face outward or offers voyeuristic glimpses into the draped mantle he opens up or lets hang loose round him to titillate the symposion’s attendees.

Chapter 4 The eye is the passage for love’s wound.172 Hellenistic literature

Achilleus Tatios’ (fl. 2nd century AD) novel Leukippe and Kleitophon opens with a first-person scene of the narrator admiring a painting of Europa’s abduction. The depicted throng of awed women draw his attention. He leers at the bull-rider’s body in particular, making her into an objectified spectacle as his eyes glide over every part of the girl, leaving nothing to the imagination:

On the upper part of her body she wore a tunic down to her groin, and then a robe covered the lower part of her body: the tunic was white, the robe purple: and her figure could be traced under the clothes—the deep-set navel, the long slight curve of the belly, the narrow waist, broadening down to the loins, the breasts gently swelling from her bosom and confined, as well as her tunic, by a girdle: and the tunic was a kind of mirror of the shape of her body.173 This ekphrasis is a prelude to the meeting later on of Kleitophon and Leukippe, the latter of whom gets dreamily gazed at as well, seizing the protagonist with burning desire. In Platonic fashion and inspired by contemporary second century philosophic discourse, the author imbued his novel with the importance of vision in regards to erȏs and how it is on par, if not better, than actual intimate contact.174 Fictional prose in the ancient world is nevertheless a tricky subject for its many unclarities and the lack of context concerning the evidence. Merely five Greek novels have survived in their supposed complete form, dating from either the 1st century AD or the following two hundred years when the genre flourished.175 As indicated by the excerpt quoted above, the main focus of this genre is heterosexual love and desire, often in the form of a young couple that gets separated. The boy and girl subsequently encounter numerous other (life-threatening) obstacles during travels through foreign lands, only to be reunited in the end.176 Nonetheless, another reoccurring trope is the inclusion of pederast characters and their amorous adventures which occurs in three of the extant novels, as shall be discussed in this chapter. The gaze is deduced in the works of Achilleus Tatios, Xenophon of Ephesos (fl. 2nd– 3rd century AD) and Longos (fl. 2nd century AD) to uncover how pederastic patterns of thought

172 Ach. Tat. 1.4.5. 173 Ach. Tat. 1.1.10-12. 174 H. Morales calls the novel ‘profoundly ocularcentric… a scopophiliac’s paradise’, underlining its importance: H. Morales, Vision and narrative in Achilles Tatius’ Leucippe and Clitophon (Cambridge 2014) ix; Goldhill, ‘The erotic experience of looking’ 380-381; see e.g. Ach. Tat. 1.10.5: ‘When the eyes meet one another they receive the impression of the body as in a mirror, and this emanation of beauty, which penetrates down into the soul through the eyes, effects a kind of union however the bodies are sundered; ’tis something of a bodily union—a new kind of bodily embrace.’ It is the pederast Kleinias who speaks these words. 175 R. Rutherford, Classical literature. A concise history (Malden, MA 2005) 135. 176 Rutherford, Classical literature, 135-136.

53 are conveyed and how male-male erȏs and its emotions are represented in this deliberately classically-inspired medium. The novels thus constitute an interpretation of the perceived Athenian classical socio-historical conventions and literary past, while the inclusion of pederastic episodes appealed to intellectuals familiar with the Golden Age of Athens where homoerotic conduct was prevalent.177 This is exemplified by Longos when he indirectly relates that he is able to convey pederastic desire through examples learned from the symposion of the depraved.178 Additionally, contemporary literature from authors such as Lucius Flavius Philostratos (c. 170–c. 247 AD) wherein homoerotic thought is featured is used to complement the pederastic sentiment in the novels and to give a more inclusive image of the gaze in the Hellenistic-era source material.179

4.1 Xenophon of Ephesos

Xenophon’s180 Ephesiaka is thought to be the earliest of the aforementioned fictional works and is dated between the late Flavian and Antonine period (c. 86–c. 161 AD).181 Out of all the romances, Xenophon’s is appreciated least for its supposed unsophisticated and unemotive style, which caused scholars in the twentieth century to argue it constitutes an abridged version.182 Even though this argument no longer seems convincing as this clear style (apheleia) was not uncommon for contemporary Greek prose,183 it is important to take into account that changes were likely made during its transmission, leaving the narrative more bleak or incomplete than it originally may have been. Papyri imply all novels might have been ‘more varied and racier’.184 Still, enough narrative evidence clearly remains to look for gazing and its impact. Central to the Ephesian tale are the love and tribulations of Anthia and Habrokomes. The ephebe Habrokomes is the main protagonist and is famed for his ethereal beauty while having grown arrogant because of it. The author describes his handsomeness as well as intellectual and physical capabilities in the beginning of the book, whereupon the boy catches the admiring eye

177 A. Watanabe, ‘The masculinity of Hippothoos’ Ancient Narrative 3 (2003) 1-41, at 8, 10; Haynes, Fashioning the Feminine in the Greek Novel, 152. 178 i.e. Socratic dialogues: Long. 4.17.3. This likewise implies a pederastic gaze from the author does not mean he himself feels or recognises such desires but this makes it good material to study the culturally informed gaze. 179 These documents likewise show a general tendency of showing continuity with the Classical period of Athens: Lear, ‘Ancient pederasty. An introduction’ 120. 180 Likely a pseudonym that was in vogue among writers; next to nothing is known about the author. 181 Rutherford, Classical literature, 136; K.M. Coleman, ‘Sailing to Nuceria. Evidence for the date of Xenophon of Ephesus’ Acta Classica 54 (2011) 27-41, at 39. 182 K. de Temmerman, Crafting characters. Heroes and heroines in the ancient Greek novel (Oxford 2014) 118. 183 De Temmerman, Crafting characters, 119. 184 Rutherford, Classical literature, 138.

54 of the inhabitants of Ephesos: ‘…[they] turned their gaze to him, stunned185 at the sight and shouting “Handsome Habrocomes! Peerless likeness of a handsome god!”’186 The narrator emphasises that his attractiveness is of such a quality that sculptures and pictures pale in comparison.187 Habrokomes effectively holds power over all the others in his vicinity through his beauty and reaps the benefits of the authority that comes with it. Because the people’s gazes are reverently fixed on him in favor of Eros, and because the young man conceitedly refuses to even look upon the (statue of the) god, he angers the deity who takes revenge and inflicts the boy with devastating love for Anthia.188 But Habrokomes also attracts pederastic attention. A similar sentiment is found in Chariton’s (fl. 1st–2nd century AD) romance where the male protagonist is said to be more handsome than statues and pictures of the likes of Achilles and Alkibiades, making him a longed-for pederastic partner who had been erṓmenos to some prior to marriage.189 The role of the pederast in Xenophon’s story is fulfilled by Hippothoos, an aristocratic man fallen from grace who has turned to a life of piracy. The youth and the older male meet after one of the many lucky escapes from danger and eventually become loyal friends. As M. Jones has pointed out, Hippothoos appears devoted to the pederastic lifestyle as illustrated by his partnerships with other men and his attraction to Habrokomes when he first lays eyes on him, finding him ‘…handsome to look at and manly to boot.’190 Another indication is his wish to share his life and possessions with him, which echoes the bandit Korymbos’ infatuation earlier in the novel.191 The robber was inflamed with love because of seeing Habrokomes so often every day and likewise wants to make him master of his possessions.192 Even though Habrokomes is entangled in a passionate love affair with a girl, he is at times framed by the pederastic intra- diegetic gaze from Hippothoos or other minor characters, as well as by the author himself in the first book of the novel when relating about his ideal beauty that entraps both men and women

185 ‘stunned’ in this passage may be taken quite literally, taking into account ancient theories on vision as set out in chapter 2. 186 Xen. Ephes. 1.2.8. 187 Xen. Ephes. 1.1.6. 188 Xen. Ephes. 1.2.1., 1.2.9-3.1; L. Papadimitropoulos, ‘Eros’ paedeutic function in the Ephesiaca of Xenophon of Ephesus’ Philologus 160 (2016) 263-275, at 264-265. 189 Charit. 1.1.3., 1.3.6. 190 Xen. Ephes. 2.9.2; Jones, Playing the man, 195-196; cf. Philostr. Ep. 15: ‘…but now that you are showing your first down, you are more manly than you were and more nearly perfect.’ Manliness could thus be valued. 191 Xen. Ephes. 5.9.2. 192 Habrokomes vehemently refuses his advances, however, for he is already wed to Anthia despite his young age, and to go back to the status of erṓmenos (which would be more age-appropriate) could mean reverting back to a passive, non-masculine role that does not coincide with his status as active, married man anymore: Xen. Ephes. 1.14.7., 1.16.4; Jones, Playing the man, 203-204.

55 alike: if he were not enamoured with Anthia, it is made clear that he could have made for a perfect erṓmenos. More extensive ephebophile vignettes also center on Hippothoos. A. Watanabe characterises him as an anti-hero antithetical to passive Habrokomes who pines deplorably, while the bandit is an active and pursuing (masculine) erastḗs of elite status fitting the pederastic paradigm.193 However, upon closer inspection of his torrid love affair a different experience emerges. Within moments of meeting the protagonist, he bemoans his own unlucky fate in regards to love with tears of weeping:

…I fell in love with a handsome youth, a youth who was a fellow countryman; his name was Hyperanthes. I first fell in love with him when I saw his tenacious wrestling in the gymnasium,194 and I lost control of myself. When a local festival with a nightlong celebration was held, I took that occasion to approach Hyperanthes and begged for his pity. The youth listened, promised everything, and took pity on me. The first stage of love’s journey were kisses and caresses and many tears from me, and in the end we took an opportunity to be alone with each other, and the fact of our respective ages went unsuspected. We were together a long time, feeling extraordinary affection for each other, until some divinity took offense at our good fortune. Someone came to town from Byzantium…one of the most powerful people there, a man priding himself on his wealth and advantages, whose name was Aristomachus. As soon as this man set foot in Perinthus, as if dispatched against me by some god, he saw Hyperanthes with me and was captivated at once, marvelling at the youth’s good looks, which could attract anyone at all. Once in love he could no longer restrain his love, but started by sending messages to the youth, and when that was getting nowhere, since on account of his feelings for me Hyperanthes let no one approach, he won over the youth’s father, a bad man with a weakness for money.195 Hyperanthes is taken along with the rival-erastḗs, but Hippothoos vows to take revenge and get reunited with his lover. He concocts a plan to sail off to Byzantion and kill Aristomachos, which he does. The devoted lovers flee the scene and attempt to travel back per ship which tragically results in the death of the youth as the vessel capsizes caused by stormy winds. The gods took away Hyperanthes’ ‘illustrious blossom’, grief-stricken Hippothoos inscribes on the makeshift tombstone.196 The deceased is given the remarkable epithet of kleinos (κλεινός; ‘glorious’), an established Cretan pederastic term to denote the beloved.197 Its usage appears to be a niche reference to this especially because it is used in a pederastic context.

193 Watanabe, ‘The masculinity of Hippothoos’ 2. 194 Both Hippothoos and Hyperanthes are from a well-to-do city and belong to the elite as explicitly stated for himself by Hippothoos and in the case of Hyperanthes it is indicated by his presence at a gymnasion. This coincides with the elite nature of (classical) pederasty. 195 Xen. Ephes. 3.1.4-2.7. 196 Xen. Ephes. 3.1.8-13. 197 Xen. Ephes. 3.2.13; see e.g. Strab. 10.4.21.

Their love commenced with Hippothoos’ observing of the boy who’s name suitably means ‘of excessive bloom’; a straightforward reference to the cliché of an erṓmenos’ desirable flower of youth.198 The narrative voice of the character expresses his desire as he gazes upon the (naked) body of the handsome Hyperanthes, contorted in the strenuous positions of wrestling. He loses his composure in the process, seized by longing for the youth who then asserts a certain control over him by rendering Hippothoos into a state of emotional timidity or forlornness. The erastḗs’ reflection thus stands central, which results in a perceived loss of power for him. But he does act on his gaze. The man approaches the male as is befitting of an erastḗs, yet does so with a lack of authority as he has to beg him for his pity; a self-humiliating act. Hyperanthes has essentially turned Hippothoos into a victim of desire (erȏs) enkindled by the vision of his handsomeness or his to-be-looked-at-ness. A similar sentiment is expressed in epigrams by Kallimachos (310–240 BC) and Meleagros (fl. 1st century BC) wherein both a man and the narrator gaze upon fair youths with both eyes which leaves them agonisingly overwhelmed or immobilised.199 That the impact of the visual sight of a boy is forceful is most directly related by Philostratos, however, as he compares the intrusion of a youth’s beauty into his vision to the siege of an army. He tries to counter it by closing his eyes, but it is too late. The ‘erotic force’ of the eyes has already taken place to plant within him the seed of desire.200 After the beautiful boy takes pity and promises his new lover ‘everything’, their relationship is characterised by excessive emotion and great mutual affection (philia). Hippothoos does not initially emerge as an authoritative and powerful actor for he resorts to beseechingness and surrenders himself to the potential beloved. The manner of their shared passion does not reveal asymmetry either and implies erȏmenoi were not affectionately or sexually frigid.201 Yet, when the bond is established Hyperanthes loses his voice and passively follows his partner in the choices he makes.202 Of importance in this fragment is how the erṓmenos, who only exists in relation to Hippothoos, makes his erastḗs feel or act. This applies all the more so to Kleisthenes, the adolescent who eventually replaces the previous erṓmenos and who is merely typified as a handsome partner sharing in Hippothoos’ possessions. It is noteworthy, however, that Kleisthenes and Hippothoos end up happily settling down together

198 Hubbard, Homosexuality in Greece and Rome. A sourcebook of basic documents (Berkeley 2003) 477. 199 Call. Epigr. 32; Anth. Gr. 12.126. 200 Philostr. Ep. 56. 201 J.E. Makowski, ‘Greek love in the Greek novel’ in E.P. Cueva and S.N. Byrne (eds), A companion to the ancient novel (Oxford 2014) 490-501, at 492. 202 Watanabe, ‘The masculinity of Hippothoos’ 6. 57 with the boy being his adopted heir, essentially establishing a lasting relationship in a circumvent manner that Xenophon mirrors with the union of the main heterosexual couple.203 Hyperanthes’ second suitor’s erȏs is of a different kind. What is similar is that he, too, is struck by his allure and that he becomes captivated with a single look which is enough to instill within him love for the youth. His beauty prompts the more powerful man from Byzantion to pursue an erotic relationship with the one he marvels at, making his looks the determining factor for the wish of a partnership. This effectively shows Hyperanthes to be a fetishised object which results in the representation of the youth, in this narrative, as an image albeit implicitly. Aristomachos succeeds because of his influence and insistent and persuasion of the father despite Hyperanthes’ rejection, which coincides with the pederastic ideal of the faithful and modest erṓmenos. Xenophon thus implements a variant of a same-sex relationship that is more emotional, equal and potentially long-lasting which runs counter to the mainstream idea of such bonds being asymmetrical and impermanent. Furthermore he contrasts this affectionate pederasty with the one of Aristomachos that is in fact more forceful, one-sided and negative.204

4.2 Achilleus Tatios

As exemplified by the excerpt quoted above, Achilleus utilises vision in relation to (physical) sensuality and love felt towards women. Unfortunately he does not apply the same theorem nor describes male’s bodies as sensually whether it be in relation to the male characters or homosexual themed episodes within his novel. This does not mean, however, that a societal gaze, pederast emotions and images of the ideal erṓmenos cannot be retraced. As a result of a papyrus find, the novel can be dated to the second century as terminus ante quem, much like the other romances, making Achilleus an author active during the ‘Second Sophistic’.205 This was a period characterised by renewed interest in Hellenic culture. Leukippe and Kleitophon embodies this interest clearest with its many references to the classics. One does not even have to look further than the homoerotic themed sections to notice: the merit of pederasty gets (jocularly) discussed,206 while the death of an erṓmenos reflects a story from Herodotos (c. 485–420 BC).207 Most obvious is a trial towards the end of the novel that is reminiscent of the

203 Xen. Ephes. 5.9.3., 5.15.4; Makowski, ‘Greek love in the Greek novel’ 494. 204 Jones, Playing the man, 195. 205 Morales, Vision and narrative in Achilles Tatius’ Leucippe and Clitophon, 5-6. 206 Ach. Tat. 2.35-38. 207 Ach. Tat. 2.34.1-7; Watanabe, ‘The masculinity of Hippothoos’ 9.

58 invective tribunal against Timarchos. This indicates that the beloved gets framed by socially informed viewing.208 The first ephebophile character the reader encounters is Kleinias, the protagonist’s cousin. He gets introduced as a young man completely in love and utterly devoted to the youth he loves in neglect of anything else. In fact, the first words he speaks reflect the emotional state of his partnership when he says that someday Kleitophon will be a slave (to love) too.209 The imagery of the beloved, Charikles, as master and Kleinias as slave permeates their partnership throughout the tale. This is expressed clearly by the erastḗs when his beloved brings unfortunate news as the latter’s father intends to wed him to an ‘ugly girl’, to give him ‘double agony’.210 The distraught Kleinias wants to do anything to help his lover, essentially being completely at his service, and exclaims that ‘[n]o one could tolerate such a thing—least of all a youth as fair as you. I pray you, Charicles, by all that you hold holy, do not allow yourself to become a slave.’211 The boy would become a slave in heterosexual marriage, but does not seem to be one in his pederastic union with Kleinias where the older of the two associates himself happily with that role, later calling Charikles the master of his heart in emphasis.212 His handsomeness the man connects to his blooming youth which he waxes lyrical about in an attempt to make his beloved fight against his father’s decision of arranged marriage:

…do not throw away untimely the flower of your youth; in addition to all its other disadvantages marriage has this, that it does away with the bloom of vigour and beauty. Do not wither yet, Charicles, I implore you; do not hand over a lovely rose to be plucked by an ill-favoured rustic clown.213 Flowers and their metaphors are irrevocably entwined with the image of the beloved, as it was in Xenophon’s work, while symbolic gifts of flowers were presented to the youth a man attempted to court.214 Charikles is in the perceived lovely flower of boyhood and the fact that Kleinias continues to stress his physical appearance coincides with his statement that having a lover in sight gives more pleasure than acts of intimacy in themselves.215 The youth is therefore represented as a sexual fantasy, even with this limited description. The boy, being in the flower of his youth, was generally seen as desirable. But before the marriage dooming their affair could take place, Charikles dies a premature death after getting trampled by the horse he had been,

208 Ach. Tat. 8.9. 209 Ach. Tat. 1.7.2. 210 Ach. Tat. 1.7.3-4. 211 Ach. Tat. 1.8.9. 212 Ach. Tat. 1.14.1. 213 Ach. Tat. 1.8.10. 214 Lear and Cantarella, Images of ancient Greek pederasty, 39. 215 Ach. Tat. 1.9.4.

59 ironically, gifted by his doting erastḗs. Kleinias subsequently curses the horse, lamenting that the beast is unable to recognise beauty for if he could it would not have killed the lad and mutilated him. In effect, when blaming the horse he reveals his own conduct around and in relation to Charikles. He took pleasure in the touch of his beautiful body, which the animal did not. In the same vein fair Charikles was a source of pride and he felt feelings of affection for him, unlike the horse.216 His deep love is again highlighted when another pederast, Menelaos, relates about his own tragic loss of his beloved. This reminds him of his own experience so ‘Clinias wept as the Trojan women wept over Patroclus.’217 With the position the youthful beloved takes in the life of the erastḗs, it is revealed that Kleinias too experiences a loss of power through reflection, either by feeling helpless or because he posits himself as a slave to him. An indirect pederastic gaze is lastly apparent in the trial against Thersandros, a man who had engaged in sexual affairs with other men during his younger years. Instead of beauty, what gets discussed is his seductive and sexual demeanour which reveals what titillated erastai even if it simultaneously describes the non-ideal, shameless, erṓmenos whose lecherous depravity could possibly taint his (adult) masculine image.218 The accuser relates passionately about his supposed sexual indulgence in the form of subjecting himself to his masters (i.e. teachers) and any who gave him the pleasure he craved while he concurrently assumed this would develop the powers of his soul.219 In order to attract desirous glances he would dwell in the gymnasion and meticulously massage the oil on his skin before nimbly entering the grounds’ sideline to draw attention to his (sexualised) body.220 Thersandros even went out of his way to wrestle with the youths who were almost men, not shying away from embraces that assured their bodies would press flush to one another.221 Furthermore the repeated euphemistic mention of his lips and their uncleanliness redirects the reader’s imaginary eye to the image of the erṓmenos performing oral sex on other men.222 These are deeply erotic images that Achilleus constructs. Young Thersandros was thus aware of him being an object of the gaze and acted on it by openly inviting men to leer at him. He unveiled himself literally when he reached the acceptable age. The mention of this moreover urges the mind’s eye of the reader to halt at the image of a pretty youth’s body, if briefly and possibly with obligatory reproach. This combines both

216 Ach. Tat. 1.14.3. 217 Ach. Tat. 2.34.7. 218 Explicitly implying someone was a so-called kinaidos (the pathic or sexually indulgent male) was a common use of invective. 219 Ach. Tat. 8.9.2-4. 220 Ach. Tat. 8.9.5. 221 Ach. Tat. 8.9.5-6. 222 Ach. Tat. 8.9.1-6: e.g. ‘[he] employed his lips for the grossest of purposes.’

60 representation of the youth by focusing on his sexualised body where the adult man is supposed to do the looking and the scopophilia that accompanies it, while the internalisation of the pederastic gaze by the stripling is made clear by Thersandros’ behavior that recalls that of Alkibiades in Plato’s Symposion.

4.3. Longos

Daphnis and Chloe stands out in more ways than one. The novel is a pastoral story that lacks the tropes included in the other romances. It does not feature grand tragedies or separations through travel to the same extent as in the other works for the whole of the story takes place on rustic Lesbos. Here the boy and girl grow up worry-free although their bliss gets momentarily threatened, yet never seriously, by suitors and pirates who abduct them and unsuccessfully attempt to violate both children.223 Instead the tale focuses primarily on ‘…growing up and learning…about sexuality and each other [i.e. Daphnis and Chloe]’, causing scholars to regard it more as a psychological novel.224 Longos has not included the technique of frame story vis- à-vis paiderastia, while instead the main character gets subjected to the gaze and desires of older men which makes of Daphnis an erotic object. The practice of pederasty moreover appears to get associated with the city and its corruptive influences and no pure or loving homoerotic relationships are featured, although there are pederast characters in the form of Philetas and Gnathon. While wandering around his garden, old Philetas catches ‘…sight of a boy with pomegranates and myrtle berries in his hands, as pale as milk, as tawny-haired as fire, gleaming as if just bathed.’225 The beauty ideals of white skin and light hair are evident, identifiable for the (male) reader. He tries to capture the naked youth with the silver voice disturbing his grove but fails as the lad is nimble and easily darts away from him to hide under roses and poppies. This is a fixing gaze meant for erotic contemplation and briefly halts the narrative as the man’s thoughts and eyes linger on the beauty of the youngster in the form of his light skin and fiery red hair. Both the reader and Philetas have a moment or erotic reflection here in a lurid scene of chase and blossoming desire. The youth’s playful behaviour charms the elder and subdues his initial anger, making way for yearning instead as he asks for embraces and kisses from the

223 Rutherford, Classical literature, 137. 224 Ibid. 137. 225 Long. 2.4.1.

61 boy.226 He does not receive them, partly because of his old age but also because the pais is none other than Eros disguised there to proclaim he will shepherd Chloe and Daphnis. Daphnis himself possesses alluring beauty as well. When city slicker Gnathon enters the scene of the countryside, it is his handsomeness that strikes him which is of a quality he has never seen before.227 Gnathon then commences to pursue the goatherder and takes every opportunity to be alone with him and feast his eyes on his beautiful figure, nor is he abashed about his intentions. When the moment struck him as right, ‘…he ran up and gave him a kiss and then asked him to present his backside the way she-goats do for he-goats.’228 Gnathon’s active gaze repels. Daphnis, startled, replies that it is never he-goats that conjoin with other he-goats and pushes him off. Nevertheless, this amusing passage emphasises that the rear of an erṓmenos is of erotic appeal and that penetrative intercourse might have been practiced between man and youth next to intercrural sex, which is the only manner of intercourse depicted on vases and assumed as the preferred form.229 Even if this reflects Gnathon’s forceful nature, it is noteworthy too that in Hellenistic poetry the backside is often focus of loving attention as

…no feature of the charms of the beloved boys seem to be as erotically attractive to lovers as the anal area, which is often described through metaphors of such a romantic kind as to signal unmistakably not only the lack of any social interdiction but also the absence of all vulgar connotations when thinking about anal penetration. Sometimes called a rose bud, sometimes compared to the sweetest of fruits, the fig, other times again equated with gold, the anus (proktos) is at any rate (together with the hinder parts of the beloved’s body (in general) irresistibly attractive.230

Despite the rejection, the city dweller cannot let go of his love for Daphnis which gets inflamed by the thought of his body and beauty specifically. In fact, he becomes so smitten that he is subdued into a state of desperation not unlike Hippothoos. Gnathon weeps as he shares his feelings with his friend whom he serves and vows to kill himself if he cannot get the boy.231 He suffers with desire. Once more he exclaims Daphnis’ beauty: ‘Do you see how his hair is like hyacinth, how his eyes shine beneath his brows like a gem set in gold, how his face is flush with pinkness and his mouth with teeth whiter than ivory? What lover wouldn’t pray to get sweet kisses from that mouth?’232 This is a fragmentary description by naming the body parts, akin to the use of close-ups in cinema to iconise the youth in a (Freudian) fetishistic way. It represents a

226 Long. 2.4.4. 227 Long. 4.11.2. 228 Long. 4.12.1. 229 Percy, Pederasty and pedagogy in archaic Greece, 119. 230 Cantarella, Bisexuality in the ancient Greek world (New Haven 1992) 26. 231 Long. 4.17.4. 232 Long. 4.17.5-6.

62 pederast’s lustful eye, and specifically how Gnathon sees him as eroticised object. Sparkling or shining eyes feature in contemporary prose and poetry too, and their provoking sight alone is often enough to instil within the man’s soul feelings of burning love.233 This, in turn, seems an echo of the idea that Ploutarchos (c. 46–c. 120 AD) sets out in which mutual glances shared between lovers are a destructive force of passion.234 It makes of the erṓmenos’ gaze and visual qualities a penetrating, sexual, force or (Platonic) sensual impression that does not merely work metaphorically, and causes an ironic active/passive role reversal.235 Here we thus see that scopophilia in relation to the youth as sexual fantasy or as an image turns into reflection for the erastḗs where he loses power and is made to suffer. By stressing his physical attributes the boy is moreover made into a spectacle of beauty for aesthetic contemplation with his curly and reddish hair,236 flushed cheeks signifying his youth, and bright eyes. The intra-diegetic gaze of Gnathon turns into an extra-diegetic one as the reader is invited to revel with him in the described beauty of the boy, sharing his pederastic vision that focuses on objectifying representation. But Philostratos additionally describes that the sight of such beauty of a beloved youth was thought to lodge itself into the eye of the lover.237 Beauty is akin to fire that blazes and makes the eye burn.238 Here, too, the visuals of an erṓmenos’ handsomeness is treated as a penetrative force that enters the body via the eyes to kindle the flame of love within the soul and body.239 Emotionally, Daphnis holds power over Gnathon through the erȏs he inspires with his good looks, which is a sentiment that is recurrent in contemporary prose and poetry too.

233 E.g. Anth. Gr. 12.127, 144, 196: ‘Thy eyes are sparks, Lycinus, divinely fair; or rather, master mine, they are rays that shoot forth flame.’; Philostr. Maj. Im. 1.21.324k: ‘Your [Olympos] eye is bright, and many a provoking glance comes from it…’ 234 Plut. Mor.5.7.681b-c; Bartsch, The mirror of the self, 70-71. 235 Bartsch, The mirror of the self, 68-69. 236 The hyacinth comes in various colors, including a tawny hue that would fit the coveted hair colour of the ideal beloved, yet it could also pertain to the wavy nature of his locks in the same manner the flower’s petals are curled. Moreover the link with the mythological Hyakinthos as the object of desire of Apollo cannot be ignored, whose hair also gets described as ‘hyacinthine’ in nature, see Philostr. Maj. Im. 1.24.328k. 237 Philostr. Ep. 10: ‘Nests are hosts to birds, rocks to fish, eyes to handsome boys…when beauty has once made its way into eyes it never departs again from the lodging it there finds.’ 238 Philostr. Ep. 8. 239 Philostr. Ep. 11: ‘How many times, do you think, have I unclosed my eyes to release you, even as hunters open their nets to give their quarry a chance to escape? And you sit fast… You are pressing ever further on, into my very soul!’ 63

4.4 Conclusions

In the sources a young man’s beauty works in stupefying ways for the observer. Even if it is not always described as extensively in the novels, it still becomes clear that the moment a man’s eyes catch sight of a boy’s physical features, pothos washes over him and leaves him intensely affected. Taking into account the assumed emotive power of sight, this intense reaction need not surprise and shows similarities with Sokrates’ reactions. The erṓmenos is thus typified by his handsomeness, or to-be-looked-at-ness, and his representation as an image whether implied or admirably described. Emotional desire is generated primarily through vision, resulting in a fixing gaze that makes room for erotic contemplation: attraction is visual. Hence Longos’ Daphnis gets characterised by his hyacinth hair, shining eyes and delicate blush on his cheeks which does nothing but render him an object shaped and to be consumed by the male pederastic gaze. This is the reason Gnathon’s heart is inflamed with love and the wish for a relationship. This experience is backed up by contemporary prose and poetry, where it becomes clear that the sight of a beloved’s eyes or handsomeness works as a penetrative and blazing force as it lodges into the eye, attributing to it a tactile nature. When it dawns upon the male that possessing what his eye desires is impossible, this can lead to frantic despair. But interestingly, and even though the youths never escape the status of fetishised object in the covetous male’s viewpoint, they do beget (active/controlling) power while the erastḗs loses it. In the case of Hippothoos and Hyperanthes this shows through the former suffering from love’s overwhelming force which making him resort to begging, leaving the fate of their partnership in the hands of Hyperanthes. And during their partnership, Hippothoos does not show signs of active domination either. Instead their passions and feelings are shared. In Achilleus Tatios it is remarkable that the erastḗs likens him to a slave to love which must reflect to some extent the emotional state of the lovers who found themselves lucky enough to bind themselves to a youth. Although the men are often explicitly portrayed as older and, in the case of Longus, as sexually dominating, the pederastic gaze reveals that these power relations get experientially blurred. This might well relate to, and be prompted by, the notion expressed by Aischines that beautiful youngsters ‘…become the subject of strife because of the passion they inspire’, indicating the hardships men had to go through to get their desired, beautiful lad.240

240 Aeschin. In Tim. 134-135: He moreover states that fathers pray for fair-looking sons so they might attract a good match, so these sons are represented to be expected to get judged primarily by their looks that had to attract the male pederastic gaze and titillate it. Certainly, pederasty was a homosocial practice that represented and established elite hegemony (if lust was the only factor boy prostitutes certainly would have been enough) but eroticism is shown to have ideally played an important role.

Gazing at a handsome boy would have inspired a sense of insecurity, as with Hippothoos and Gnathon, for possessing their instigator of pathos was not a given, resulting in a loss of power during reflection. Lastly the case of Thersandros reveals that the erṓmenos was assumed to internalise this objectifying male pederastic gaze and could act upon it, as Plato’s Alkibiades did. He invites the male gaze purposefully and directs it to him via the flexibility and gracefulness of his motions as well as his oiled body. He, and the writer, make of him an objectified spectacle, knowing the power of the gaze. This is remarkably also the only instance of pederasty where the dyadic pedagogical aspect is mentioned as impetus for such relationships, yet, as ever, the youth has to possess the gaze of the older man.

Conclusion

To marvel at a youth’s good looks was part and parcel of the erastḗs’ conduct, and so the act and consequences of looking feature prominently in cultural expressions pertaining to pederasty. Applying the modern theory of the (male) gaze to the classical Greek sources is therefore a helpful tool to determine conventions and mentality in relation to the homoerotic custom. For the purpose of examining the (impact of) the gaze three types of sources have been studied: Socratic philosophy, red-figure vases, and the Hellenistic novel. By combining these cultural expressions this allows for a comprehensive insight into the pederastic gaze determined by Attic socio-cultural patterns of the Classical era. Mulvey was one of the first who put Lacan’s psychoanalytical gaze and Freudian scopophilia in a feminist framework, stipulating that the man is a powerful and active viewer while the woman represents the passive and powerless spectacle who is to be looked at. To a certain extent, this notion is straightforwardly applicable to Attic-classical culture where the handsome youth was subjected to an eroticised gaze from the adult man. This is especially evident from paintings on the tondi of drinking vessels used during the symposion. A substantial number of kylikes depict single youths exposing themselves to the drinking symposiast as he lifted the wine-cup up to his face, and so into his field of view. Conversely they could show boys modestly covering themselves as a reaction to the leering looks of the party’s attendees as they drank. In daily life, paides were likewise urged to be clad in a concealing himation to avoid attracting the gaze of the Other and consequently distract adult men. On such earthenware the artist has represented the youths as sexualised objects to be consumed by the male pederastic gaze of the symposiast. Moreover he could play to scopic desires and the passion for youthful beauty his customers held by including an interactive allusion to the paintings. From the kylikes can hence be deduced how the gaze of erastai was catered to via (sympotic) artwork and how vision and the image of the erṓmenos played a role in elite circles during eroticised settings such as the symposion. Similarly, whenever youths are introduced in the literary works as discussed in chapters 2 and 4, this happens primarily on the basis of their beautiful physical qualities, characterising them as objectified images for the enjoyment of the men around them or even to lead the ‘mind’s eye’ of the reader to erotic contemplation. It is maintained that the adult male is the bearer of a desiring look while the (prospective) erṓmenos is subjected to it at all times, but this need not necessarily affirm a domineering status for the former. Some paintings showcase a more emotional impact the visuality of a boy and his presence could have on the older male that does not coincide with the one-sided phallocentric domination

66 of the lover over the beloved as asserted by scholars such as Dover and Halperin. The erastḗs, whether through his gestures or through symbolism on vases, appears instead to be overcome or (humorously) subdued by his boy. This phenomenon becomes all the more evident from passages in Platonic and Xenophontean dialogues and in Hellenistic literature. In the philosophical works the pederastic gaze does not empower the adult male spectators, most notoriously of all Sokrates, as instead they are left stupefied in the presence of youthful beauty. In the romances all pederasts likewise convey a sense of despair or take on a subordinate position during the pursuit of illustrious youths and are one by one overwhelmed by the erotic force of the erṓmenos’ presence. The formalised societal roles of lover and beloved are rarely deviated from, indeed the adult citizen possesses the gaze whereas the adolescent is the sexualised object of desire and never the other way around. Yet, from archaic poetry onward the men express to fall prey to the temptation the beautiful sons of the elite present. With such culturally informed behaviour they are depicted not as being in control and dominant, but as struck passive and even timid in the company of their (prospective) erṓmenoi. Notably this is accompanied by the affecting if not penetrative force of erȏs to the eyes and body as supported by the ancient optic theory of intromission. For that reason Sokrates could empathetically claim to have felt a physical pain after touching the flesh of a handsome adolescent, or men could express to be immobilised or inflamed by desire as the sight of a boy penetrated their vision. For the community of erastai such patterns of thought as delineated in prose or poetry must have been deemed relatable. Emotionally, erṓmenoi hold power over their admirers through the erȏs they inspire because of the reveling sight they present. This problematises the continuous focus on the opposing divisions construed on the basis of phallic, penetrative, domination and might even make active/passive thinking as regards to homoeroticism inadequate if not redundant. While Hupperts and Hubbard have most prominently attempted to show a degree of reciprocity without a strict differentiation (in age) between partners within pederastic relationships, this thesis has revealed generally that the culturally-shaped emotional expressions of an erastḗs undermine his supposed all-dominant and active position as it only applies to the pursuit of a boy and to sex. But even then his active conduct can be nuanced. Groups of men following a favoured youth around wherever he goes as uttered in the Socratic text does not strike as domineering. It was the boy who had the final say in accepting a man’s advances. The adult male citizen dominated in Athenian society, but in a pederastic partnership this superior role was not as apparent. Men did not hold power over boys. If anything, it was the other way around.

Bibliography

Sources

Achilleus Tatios, Leucippe and Clitophon, trans. S. Gaselee, Loeb Classical Library 45 (Cambridge, MA 1969). Aeschines, Speeches, trans. C.D. Adams, Loeb Classical Library 106 (Cambridge, MA 1919). Anakreon, D.A. Campbell (ed.), Greek lyric, volume 2. Anacreon, Anacreon, Anacreontea, choral lyric from Olympus to Alcman, trans. D.A. Campbell, Loeb Classical Library 143 (Cambridge, MA 1988). Beazley Archive Pottery Database, . Chariton, Goold, G.P. (ed.), Callirhoe, trans. G.P. Goold, Loeb Classical Library 481 (Cambridge, MA 1995). Diogenes Laertios, Lives of eminent philosophers, volume 2. Books 6-10, trans. R.D. Hicks, Loeb Classical Library 185 (Cambridge, MA 1925). Gorgias, Laks, A. and Most, G.W. (eds), Early Greek philosophy, volume 8. Sophists, part 1, trans. A. Laks and G.W. Most, Loeb Classical Library 531 (Cambridge, MA 2016). Greek anthology, The Greek anthology, volume 4. Book 10. The hortatory and admonitory epigrams. Book 11. The convivial and satirical epigrams. Book 12. Strato’s Musa Puerilis, trans. W.R. Paton, Loeb Classical Library 85 (Cambridge, MA 1918). Homeros, Odyssey, volume 2. Books 13-24, trans. A.T. Murray and G.E. Dimock, Loeb Classical Library 105 (Cambridge, MA 1919). Ibykos, Campbell, D.A. (ed.), Greek lyric, volume 3. Stesichorus, Ibycus, Simonides, and others, trans. D.A. Campbell, Loeb Classical Library 476 (Cambridge, MA 1991). Longos, Henderson, J. (ed.), Daphnis and Chloe. Anthia and Habrocomes, trans. J. Henderson, Loeb Classical Library 69 (Cambridge, MA 2009). Kallimachos, Hymns and Epigrams. Lycophron. Alexandra. Aratus. Phaenomena, trans. A.W. Mair and G.R. Mair, Loeb Classical Library 129 (Cambridge, MA 1921). Plato, Euthyphro. Apology. Crito. Phaedo. Phaedrus, trans. H. North Fowler, Loeb Classical Library 36 (Cambridge, MA 1914). Idem, Laches. Protagoras. Meno. Euthydemus, trans. W.R.M. Lamb, Loeb Classical Library 165 (Cambridge, MA 1924). Idem, Lysis. Symposium. Gorgias, trans. W.R.M. Lamb, Loeb Classical Library 166 (Cambridge, MA 1925). Idem, Cratylus. Parmenides. Greater Hippias. Lesser Hippias, trans. H. North Fowler, Loeb Classical Library 167 (Cambridge, MA 1926). Idem, Charmides, Alcibiades I and II. Hipparchus. The lovers. Theages. Minos. Epinomis, trans. W.R.M. Lamb, Loeb Classical Library 201 (Cambridge, MA 1927). Idem, Timaeus. Critias. Cleitophon. Menexenus. Epistles, trans. R.G. Bury, Loeb Classical Library 234 (Cambridge, MA 1929). Philostratos of Athens, Alciphron, Aelian, and Philostratus. The letters, trans. A.R. Benner and F.H. Fobes, Loeb Classical Library 383 (Cambridge, MA 1949). Philostratos of Lemnos, Philostratus the Elder, Philostratus the Younger, Callistratus. Descriptions, trans. A. Fairbanks, Loeb Classical Library 256 (Cambridge, MA 1931).

Plinius Maior, Natural history, volume 10. Books 36-37, trans. D.E. Eichholz, Loeb Classical Library 419 (Cambridge, MA 1062). Ploutarchos, Moralia, volume 8. Table-talk, books 1-6, trans. P.A. Clement and H.B. Hoffleit, Loeb Classical Library 424 (Cambridge, MA 1969). Idem, Moralia, volume 9. Table-talk, books 7-9. Dialogue on love, trans. E.L. Minar, F.H. Sandbach and W.C. Helmbold, Loeb Classical Library 425 (Cambridge, MA 1961). Sappho, Campbell, D.A. (ed.), Greek lyric, volume 1. Sappho and Alcaeus, trans. D.A. Campbell, Loeb Classical Library 142 (Cambridge, MA 1982). Strabo, Geography, volume 5. Books 10-12, trans. H.L. Jones, Loeb Classical Library 211 (Cambridge, MA 1928). Wilde, O. and Bristow, J. (ed.), The picture of Dorian Gray. The 1890 and 1891 texts. The complete works of Oscar Wilde, vol. 3 (Oxford 2005). Xenophon of Athens, Memorabilia. Oeconomicus. Symposium. Apology, trans. E.C. Merchan, O.J. Todd and J. Henderson, Loeb Classical Library 168 (Cambridge, MA 2013). Xenophon of Ephesos, Henderson, J. (ed.), Daphnis and Chloe. Anthia and Habrocomes, trans. J. Henderson, Loeb Classical Library 69 (Cambridge, MA 2009).

Literature

Barrow, R.J., Gender, identity and the body in Greek and Roman sculpture (Cambridge 2018). Bartsch, S., The mirror of the self. Sexuality, self-knowledge, and the gaze in the early Roman Empire (Chicago 2017). Beazley, J., ‘Some inscriptions on vases III’ American Journal of Arcaheology 39 (1935) 475- 488. Berger, J., Ways of seeing (Harmondsworth 1972). Bravo, J., ‘Boys, herms, and the objectification of desire on Athenian sympiotic vases’ EuGeStA 7 (2017) 1-67. Brennan, T., ‘Socrates and Epictetus’ in S. Ahbel-Rappe and R. Kamtekar (eds), A companion To Socrates (Chichester 2009) 285-298. Butler, J., Gender trouble. Feminism and the subversion of identity (New York 1990). Calame, C., ‘The amorous gaze. A poetic and pragmatic koine for erotic Melos?’ in V. Cazzato and A. Ladrinois (eds), The look of lyric. Greek song and the visual. Studies in archaic and Classical Greek song, vol. 1, Mnemosyne. Supplements, vol. 391 (Boston and Leiden 2016) 288-289. Cantarella, E., Bisexuality in the ancient Greek world (New Haven 1992). Carroll, J., ‘Aestheticism, homoeroticism, and Christian guilt in The Picture of Dorian Gray. A Darwinian critique’ Philosophy and Literature 29 (2005) 1-19. Coleman, K.M., ‘Sailing to Nuceria. Evidence for the date of Xenophon of Ephesus’ Acta Classica 54 (2011) 27-41. Danzig, G., Apologizing for Socrates. How Plato and Xenophon created our Socrates (Lanham 2010). Davidson, J.N., The Greeks and Greek love. A radical reappraisal of homosexuality in ancient Greece (London 2007). Dover, K.J., Greek homosexuality (London 1978).

Drummond, K.G., ‘The queering of Swan Lake’ Journal of Homosexuality 45 (2008) 235-255. Ferrari, G., Figures of speech. Men and maidens in ancient Greece (Chicago 2002). Foucault, M., Histoire de la sexualité (Paris 1976-1984). Fountoulakis, A., ‘Male bodies, male gazes. Exploring erȏs in the twelfth book of the Greek Anthology’ in E. Sanders et al. (eds), Erȏs in ancient Greece (Oxford 2013) 293-311. Freud, S., Drei Abhandlungen zur Sexualtheorie (5th ed., Leipzig 1922). Frontisi-Ducroux, F., ‘Eros, desire and the gaze’ in N.B. Kampen (ed.), Sexuality in ancient art. Near East, Egypt, Greece and Italy (Cambridge 1996) 81-100. Genest, P., Socratic eros and philia (Diss. John Hopkins University 1992). Glenn, C., ‘Complicating the theory of the male gaze. Hitchcock’s leading men’ New Review of Film and Television Studies 15 (2017) 496-510. Goldhill, S., ‘The erotic experience of looking. Cultural conflict and the gaze in empire culture’ In M.C. Nussbaum and J. Shivola (eds), The sleep of reason. Erotic experience and sexual ethics in ancient Greece and Rome (Chicago 2002). Graf, F., ‘Gestures and convention. The gestures of Roman actors and orators’ in J.N. Bremmer and H. Rodenburg (eds), A cultural history of gesture. From antiquity to the present day (Cambridge 1991) 36-57. Grethlein, J., Aesthetic experiences and classical antiquity. The significance of form in Narratives and pictures (Cambridge 2017). Halperin, D.M., One hundred years of homosexuality. And other essays on Greek love (New York and London 1990). Haworth, M., ‘The wolfish lover. The dog as comic metaphor in homoerotic symposium pottery’ Archimède Archéologie et histoire ancienne 5 (2018) 7-23. Haynes, K., Fashioning the feminine in the Greek novel (London and New York 2005). Hedreen, G., The image of the artist in archaic and classical Greece. Art, poetry, and subjectivity (Cambridge 2016). Hubbard, T.K., ‘Pindar, Theoxenus, and the homoerotic eye’ Arethusa 35 (2002) 255-296. Idem, Homosexuality in Greece and Rome. A sourcebook of basic documents (Berkeley 2003). Idem, ‘The varieties of Greek love’ The Gay & Lesbian Review Worldwide 11 (2004) 11-13. Idem, ‘Athenian pederasty and the construction of masculinity’ in J.H. Arnold and S. Brady (eds), What is masculinity? Historical dynamics from antiquity to the contemporary world (New York 2011) 189-225. Idem, ‘The irreducibility of myth. Plato’s Phaedrus, Apollo, Admetus, and the problem of pederastic hierarchy’ Phoenix 67 (2013) 81-106. Hupperts, C. et al., (eds), Olympische spelen. Sport en opvoeding in de Griekse oudheid. Een bronnenboek (Leeuwarden 1989). Hupperts, C., Eros dikaios. De praktijk en de verbeelding van homoseksualiteit bij de Grieken (Diss. Universiteit Amsterdam 2000). Hurst, I., ‘Victorian literature and the reception of Greece and Rome’ Literature Compass 7 (2010) 484-495. Jagodzinski, J., ‘Scopophilia’ in R.L. Jackson and M. Hogg (eds), Encyclopedia of identity (California 2010) 660-662. Idem, ‘Gaze’ in R.L. Jackson and M. Hogg (eds), Encyclopedia of identity (California 2010) 302-305.

Jones, M., Playing the man. Performing masculinities in the ancient Greek novel (Oxford 2012). Kilmer, M.F., Greek erotica on Attic red-figure vases (London 1993). Idem, ‘Painters and pederasts. Ancient art, sexuality and social history’ in M. Golden and P. Toohey (eds), Inventing ancient culture. Historicism, periodization, and the ancient world (London and New York 1997) 36-49. Koch-Harnak, G., Knabenliebe und Tiergeschenke. Ihre Bedeutung im päderastischen Erziehungssystem Athens (Berlin 1983). Kosofsky Sedgwick, E., Between men. English literature and male homosocial desire (New York 1985). Lear, A. and Cantarella, E., Images of ancient Greek pederasty. Boys were their gods (New York 2008). Lear, A., ‘Ancient pederasty. An introduction’ in T.K. Hubbard (ed.), A companion to Greek and Roman sexualities (Chichester 2013) 106-131. Leyerle, B., ‘John Chrysostom on the gaze’ Journal of Early Christian Studies 1 (1993) 159- 174. LiDonnici, L.R., ‘Burning for it. Erotic spells for fever and compulsion in the ancient Mediterranean world’ Greek, Roman and Byzantine Studies 39 (1998). Makowski, J.E., ‘Greek love in the Greek novel’ in E.P. Cueva and S.N. Byrne (eds), A companion to the ancient novel (Oxford 2014) 490-501. Manlove, C.T., ‘Visual ‘drive’ and cinematic narrative. Reading gaze theory in Lacan, Hitchcock, and Mulvey’ Cinema Journal 46 (2007) 83-108. Mason, A.S., Plato (Durham 2010). Maxwell-Stuart, P.G., ‘Strato and the Musa Puerillis’ Hermes 100 (1972) 215-240. McNiven, T.J., ‘Sex, gender and sexuality’ in T.J. Smith and D. Plantzos (eds), A companion to Greek art vol. 2 (Malden, MA and Oxford 2012). Miller, J.A. (ed.) and Lacan, J., The four fundamental concepts of psycho-analysis, trans. A. Sherican (London and New York 2018). Modlesky, T., ‘Remastering the master. Hitchcock after feminism’ New Literary History 47 (2016) 135-158. Moradi, B., ‘Objectification theory. Areas of promise and refinement’ Counseling Psychologist 39 (2011) 153-163. Morales, H., Vision and narrative in Achilles Tatius’ Leucippe and Clitophon (Cambridge 2014). Mulvey, L., ‘Visual pleasure and narrative cinema’ Screen 16 (1975) 6-18. Nall, G.A., Forms of classical Athenian homosexuality in transhistorical, cross-cultural, biosocial and demographic perspective. A response to Dover, Foucault and Halperin (Diss. State University of New York 2001). Osborne, R., ‘Imaginary intercourse. An illustrated history of Greek pederasty’ in D. Allen, P. Christesen and P. Millet (eds), How to do things with history. New approaches to ancient Greece (Oxford 2018) 313-338. Papadimitripoulos, L., ‘Eros’ paedeutic function in the Ephesiaca of Xenophon of Ephesus’ Philologus 160 (2016) 263-275. Percy, W.A., ‘Reconsiderations about Greek homosexuality’ Journal of Homosexuality 49

(2005) 13-61. Pullen, C., Straight girls and queer guys. The hetero media gaze in film and television (Edinburgh 2016). Rabinowitz, N.S., ‘Women as subject and object of the gaze in tragedy’ Helios 40 (2013) 195- 221. Reeder, E., Pandora. Women in classical Greece (Princeton 1995). Richlin, A., ‘Reading boy-love and child-love in the Greco-Roman world’ in M Masterson, N. Sorkin Rabinowitz and J. Robson (eds), Sex in antiquity. Exploring gender and sexuality in the ancient world (London and New York 2015) 352-373. Robinson, D.M. and Fluck, E.J., A study of the Greek love-names. Including a discussion of paederasty and a prosopographia (Baltimore 1937). Rutherford, R., Classical literature. A concise history (Malden, MA 2005). Salzmann-Mitchell, P.B., A web of fantasies. Gaze, image and gender in Ovid’s Metamorphoses (Columbus 2005). Shapiro, H.A., ‘Courtship scenes in Attic vase painting’ American Journal of Archaeology 85 (1981) 133-143. Idem, ‘Eros in love. Pederasty and pornography in Greece’ in A. Richlin (ed.), Pornography and representation in Greece and Rome (Oxford 1992) 53-72. Skinner, M., Sexuality in Greek and Roman culture (Malden, MA 2005). Stansbury-O’Donnell, M.D., Vase painting, gender, and social identity in archaic Athens (Cambridge 2006). Idem, Looking at Greek art (Cambridge 2011). Idem, ‘Desirability and the body’ in T.K. Hubbard (ed.), A companion to Greek and Roman sexualities (Malden, MA and Oxford 2013) 31-53. Temmerman, de, K., Crafting characters. Heroes and heroines in the ancient Greek novel (Oxford 2014). Tuozzo, T.M., Plato’s Charmides. Positive elenchus in a ‘Socratic’ dialogue (Cambridge 2011). Watanabe, A., ‘The masculinity of Hippothoos’ Ancient Narrative 3 (2003) 1-41.